#not going to hop on again tonight but !!!! very excited for when i will again

[yunniverse]

My Home

౨ৎ PAIRING— jeong yunho x reader

౨ৎ GENRE— angst, fluff, established relationship, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— little bit of angst, mostly fluff, yunho is a soft boy

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 3.6k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— it isn’t no way home. it’s one way home, and that way is yunho.

౨ৎ A/N— i just love yunho so much :( feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading, loves!!

You walk into your apartment, kicking off your shoes and placing your purse in one of the chairs at your kitchen counter.   When you finally take a seat on your couch, sighing in relief at the feeling of finally getting to sit down after a lot of standing today at work.   Suddenly, your phone buzzes, and you frown, grabbing it from beside you to look at it.   —Excited for tonight!! It’s my turn to pick a movie ;)   “Oh shoot!” you exclaim, jumping up as soon as you read the text, throwing the phone down and hurrying to get ready for a shower. Yunho can’t come over seeing you like this, even though he’s your boyfriend and he’s told you before not to worry about your appearance around him. You still like to feel good about yourself, though, as much as you can.   After grabbing a change of clothes, you head into the bathroom to hop into the shower, hoping you’ll have enough time to finish before Yunho arrives, not to mention you still have to make dinner.   Although, you might be able to convince him takeout is a good option to tonight. You find yourself lost in thought about the best way to convince him, when you hear your front door open.   Your eyes widen as you turn the water off, rushing to dry off and change clothes. It obviously isn’t the first time Yunho has let himself in, in fact he does it quite often, but you’re usually a little more prepared.   Leaving the bathroom once you feel presentable, you walk out of your bedroom and into the living room, looking around for your boyfriend.   Suddenly, you feel someone place their hands over your eyes, laughing. “Guess who?”

You smile once you’re over the initial jumpscare, “Oh, I don’t know… Maybe my boyfriend who’s trying to give his girlfriend a heart attack?”   “You barely flinched,” Yunho laughs, shaking his head as he spins you around, engulfing you in a hug, slightly lifting you off the ground.   “Yunho!” you scold playfully, laughing once he puts you back on the ground. When you regain your balance, you look up at him, taking in his appearance today.   His soft, chocolate brown hair frames his face, and he’d chosen a white, short-sleeved sweater, a choker necklace with the tiniest pearls all around it, finished off with black jeans.   “You look like you’re going to an office or something,” you comment, quirking an eyebrow. “Not a comfy movie night.”   “Sorry,” he pouts, his brown eyes softening, looking very puppy-like. “I just came from a meeting straight here.”   “Don’t apologize,” you smile up at him. “You look really good, just not comfortable.”   “It’s the jeans, right?” Yunho comments as you move around him to enter the kitchen, on a secret mission for your takeout menus. “I really need to ask if I can start wearing sweatpants to the meetings.”   “Hm,” you hum, digging through your menu drawer.   “Isn’t that the drawer of menus?” Yunho asks, taking a seat in one of your swivel chairs at the counter, watching you.   “Yeah,” you look up at him sheepishly.   “But babyyy,” Yunho’s shoulders slump as he whines. “You said you’d teach me to cook something today.”   “I know, I know,” you step around the counter to him, wrapping your arms around his middle from behind, your chin resting against his shoulderblade as he leans against the counter on his elbows. “But we can do that next time, can’t we?”   He turns around to face you, the small pout still visible on his lips, “You said that last time.”   “I’m just really tired today,” you sigh, lowering you head for a moment before meeting Yunho’s gaze again. “We can order your favorite.”   He pauses, thinking, “Alright, I guess. But next time?”   “Thank you, thank you!” you beam up at him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in a tight, quick hug. “And yes, of course.”   “I’ll hold you to it for real this time,” Yunho warns, making you nod quickly, overjoyed that he agreed so quickly.

When you try to remove yourself from his grip, he stops you, giving you another small pout. “No kisses?”   “Huh?” you question, slightly taken aback by his boldness.   “I’ve waited all day for kisses and cuddles, and I haven’t gotten any yet,” Yunho responds, giving you his puppy eyes that always make you fold.   “Hm,” you pretend to think, but ultimately smile, leaning in closer to give him a soft, quick kiss, which tastes a little different this time, but a good different. “Are you wearing the peach chapstick I gave you?”   “Yeah,” he breathes, looking a little shy. “I like it.”   “So do I,” you grin cheekily, making him roll his eyes playfully before tickling your sides a little, making you squeal, giggling.   “What do you wanna order?” Yunho asks once you’ve calmed down.   “I said we’d order your favorite,” you raise an eyebrow at him. “So we’re ordering your favorite.”   “We don’t actually have to, love,” he responds. “You’ve had a long day, and I’d like to make you happy.”   “You’re too sweet sometimes, Yuyu,” you feel a swell of happiness in your chest at his care for you. “But I honestly just want to eat whatever you want.”   “Honest?” Yunho asks, making sure.   “Honest,” you nod, sticking your pinky out, something you both do to prove to each other that you’re telling the complete truth.   He grins, linking his pinky with yours before lifting your joined pinkies to his lips, pressing a kiss to your finger with a wink that makes you swoon.   “I’ll order, then,” he grabs his phone, getting ready to call.   As he orders the food, you walk over to the living room, pulling out the plush, light blue blanket you usually use for movie nights.   Yunho walks over to you once he finishes the call, laughing as he engulfs you in a hug from behind. “Yuyu!” you complain as he rests some of his weight against you. “Why are you being so cuddly today?”   “You say that like I don’t do this every time we’re together,” Yunho scoffs, squeezing you once more before he releases you, plopping down onto the couch.   “I just felt like mentioning it today,” you shrug, smirking as you plop down onto his lap with no warning.   “Oof!” he grunts at the impact, shooting you a playful glare as he digs his fingers into your sides, tickling you until you give in, moving away from him to lay on the couch.   “Yunhooo,” you whine after a few moments of him paying attention to the game show on the TV. He glances over at you to see your pout as you make grabby hands toward him.   “What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, tilting his head to the side in question, resembling a puppy yet again.

“I want cuddles,” you respond with pleading eyes.   “The food will be here soon,” Yunho counters, and you know he has a point, but he looks so fluffy with his fluffy brown hair and soft gaze. You can’t help wanting to have him to yourself for cuddles.   “After we eat we can cuddle,” Yunho tells you, reaching for his phone to check his notifications. With a disappointed sigh, you look up at the ceiling, letting your arms drop onto your stomach.   After a few minutes of silence, you look back over at him, perching yourself up on your elbows. “Your hair looks so soft.”   He looks up from his phone to meet your gaze with a shy smile, “Thank you.”   “I love your natural color hair,” you continue. “I’m glad it isn’t dyed right now.”   “Yeah, I’m happy it isn’t dyed, too,” Yunho nods, agreeing.   “I wanna touch it,” you immediately resort to puppy eyes, even though you already know he told you no to cuddles right now.   “I know,” he responds cheekily, sticking his tongue out at you.   “Rude,” you gasp. “Especially coming from someone who’s gonna pick Spiderman again tonight.”   “Spiderman movies are good,” Yunho protests.   “You look like Peter Parker with your natural hair,” you point out, making him scoff.   “I’m not that good looking,” he responds, shaking his head.   You toss a throw pillow at him, “Liar!”   He laughs, tossing it back at you just as someone knocks on the door. Yunho jumps up to go get the food as you sit up, stretching.   “It’s here!” he exclaims once he pays the delivery person. “Ready to eat?”   After about an hour, you and Yunho finally make your way back to the couch, where you get settled to watch the movie.   You’re about fifteen minutes into the action when Yunho shifts, his arm moving to rest around your shoulders, coaxing you to rest yours against his chest. His other hand finds yours under the blanket, interlacing your fingers with his.   You pull his hand into your lap, glancing up at him with a small, sleepy grin, “I love you.”   “I love you too, sunshine,” Yunho responds, pressing a sweet kiss to the side of your head.   “I needed this,” you admit after a few moments, biting your lip as you absentmindedly play with Yunho’s fingers under the blanket.   “You did?” he asks, looking down at you with curiosity.   “Yeah,” you breathe. “I had a long day at work.”

“What happened?” Yunho asks, noticing your sudden shift in mood.   “I just…” you trail off, your chin quivering slightly. “Everyone kept telling me I was doing everything wrong, and I tried to make them happy, but it’s never enough. Everyone always has better ideas than me and I feel useless.”   “Baby,” Yunho frowns, sitting up more to turn you to look at him. “You’re anything but useless. And you can’t please everyone. You should know that.”   “I know… I’m sorry,” you suck in a wobbly breath. “I didn’t mean to start crying and ruin our night.”   “You aren’t ruining anything,” Yunho responds softly. “I want you to tell me when things are going wrong. It’s my job to be here for you, and I always will be. Alright?”   You simply nod, shifting to wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. He coos at you, one hand rubbing your back soothingly while the other cradles your head against him. “You’re amazing, y/n,” Yunho tells you softly. “Don’t let anyone get you down. Promise?”   You nod against him, too overwhelmed to say anything at the moment.   When you’ve calmed down enough, you let a small smile take over your features, “You smell nice.”   “Yeah?” he whispers, laughing slightly.   “I think my new favorite scent on you is peach,” you pull away from his neck to look at him.   “I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiles, his hands moving to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks soothingly. “Feeling better?”   “Yeah,” you nuzzle into his hands, your eyelids fluttering closed at his soft touch. When you open your eyes again, Yunho is gazing at you lovingly, a soft smile on his face. “What is it?” you whisper, feeling a little shy under his intense gaze.   “I was just thinking about how much I love you,” Yunho responds, making your face heat up.   “I love you too, Yuyu,” you tell him when you control the butterflies in your stomach somewhat. Yunho smiles, leaning forward to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss, which you melt right into. He has that effect on you.   “I missed you this past week,” you tell him once you’re both settled back in, eyes on the TV screen again.   “So did I,” Yunho responds softly, his thumb brushing against your knee under the blanket, making you shiver slightly before you snuggle further into his cozy sweater, letting your gaze fix back on the TV.   It’s about fifteen minutes later when you start to grow a little bored of watching the movie, taking a quick glance up at Yunho, who still seems fully invested, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration.   Sneakily, you carefully slip your cold fingers beneath his sweater, giggling when he jumps, his eyes darting to you in shock.   “Y/nnnn,” he whines, wriggling a little at the chill your hands have caused. “I was warm!”   “Exactly,” you grin cheekily. “And my hands are cold.”

Yunho shakes his head at you, trying to relax again and ignore your cold fingers. You watch him look back at the TV, and you sigh happily, sliding your hands up a little further against his toned stomach.   Yunho tenses for a moment and you hold back a giggle, knowing he’s struggling to stay put and not shove you off.   Feeling even more mischievous, you wiggle your fingers slightly, laughing when he immediately jolts with a small yelp.   “Sorry,” you mumble, though the smirk on your face that Yunho can’t see proves you’re not really sorry.   “You know I’m ticklish,” Yunho huffs, his muscles still tensed underneath your hands.   “I know, I know,” you respond, flattening your hands again, showing him you won’t tickle him again. “It won’t happen again, baby.”   “It better not,” Yunho warns, but slowly starts to relax again.   With a content sigh, you let your eyelids flutter closed, resting your cheek against Yunho’s chest, where you can hear his steady heartbeat. Soon, you find yourself growing sleepy, and you only feel more sleepy when Yunho’s fingers move to your head, softly massaging your scalp.   You find yourself being pulled deeper into the soft lull of sleep as Yunho’s heartbeat thumps rhythmically beneath you.   “Sweetheart,” you hear Yunho’s gentle, deep voice coaxing you awake.   “Hm,” you hum, snuggling further into him with a small sigh.   “It’s getting late,” he responds, much to your dismay.   “I don’t want you to leave,” you shift, your chin resting against his chest now, looking up at him with sad doe eyes.   “I don’t want to leave either,” Yunho replies, his fingers in your hair slipping down to cup the side of your head in his palm. You lean into his touch, nuzzling his hand. “But I have to, unfortunately.”   You huff, knowing you’re being difficult, but you’re sad you haven’t gotten to hang out with him much lately, and then you fell asleep for who knows how long.   “But I was asleep, and you didn’t wake me!” you protest, pouting up at him.   “You were so cute, though,” Yunho responds, sticking his lower lip out at you in a small pout. “I couldn’t wake you up.”   “You could’ve,” you mumble, slipping your hands out from under Yunho’s sweater, to which he sighs in content at the loss of contact with your freezing cold hands, although they had gotten a little warmer.   “How long was I asleep anyway?” you ask, yawning, as you move your hands to play with the little pearls on Yunho’s necklace.   “About an hour and a half,” he replies, bracing for your exclamation of shock.   “Yuyu!” you whine, tugging on his necklace a little. “We could have spent more time together if you’d woken me up!”   “You seemed like you needed the rest,” he responds softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. You sigh, knowing you can’t be mad at him when he’s being this sweet.   “And I know how hard you’ve been working, so I figured I’d let you sleep for at least a little bit,” he continues quietly, the softness in his gaze almost too much to handle.   “Yunho,” you sigh, shaking your head slightly.   “What?” he asks, worry suddenly flooding his features.

“You’re too sweet sometimes, you know that?” you finish, a cheeky smile growing on your face.   “You can’t do that!” Yunho pouts. “You scared me!”   “Aw, I’m sorry,” you giggle slightly. “It was the perfect opportunity.”   “To make me think you were breaking up with me?” Yunho asks, his gaze sad, with a small frown.   “What?” you exclaim, incredulous. “I’d never break up with you, Yunho. You know that.”   “Okayy,” he responds, the sad look still in his eyes.   With a playful eye roll, you lean forward, your lips meeting his in what was supposed to be a chaste kiss. Yunho has other plans, however, and moves his hand to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as you melt into him for the thousandth time this evening.   “I should go,” he mumbles against your lips as you sigh, disappointed.   “I know,” you pout, laying your head down once again, trying to delay the inevitable.   “I can’t get up unless you let me,” Yunho chuckles down at you, watching you with a fond gaze.   “So, if I don’t, you’ll stay forever?” you ask, looking up at him suddenly.   “Do you want me to?” he asks softly, and you blink up at him, your gaze flickering between his eyes, searching for his meaning.   “Of course,” you respond quietly. “You know I’d love nothing more.”   “So, if I asked you to spend forever with me, you’d say yes?” Yunho asks, his voice soft and full of love.   “Are you?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows a little.   “Am I what?” he responds, a small laugh escaping him.   “Are you asking me to spend forever with you?” you repeat, though you’re pretty certain he already knew what you were asking.   “If I was?” Yunho responds, voice almost a whisper.   “I’d say yes in a heartbeat,” you reply with no hesitation.

“Well,” Yunho laughs a little, shifting to sit up, forcing you to as well. “That’s good news.” You’re beyond confused now as he moves to stand, and your heart drops when you realize he must be getting ready to leave for the night.   “Yeah, it’s great news. What was the poin-“ you start, but cut yourself off when you see Yunho pulling something out of his pocket. “Yunho?” you question, heartbeat speeding up as he moves to one knee, holding a velvet box in his hands.   “Y/n,” Yunho starts, looking up at you, his brown eyes sparkling in the dim lighting. “I’ve never been happier with anyone then I am with you. It’s torture having to be away from you for any amount of time, especially when I’m on tour for weeks on end. I mean it with my whole heart when I say you’re the only one I’ll ever want. So, even though I know this isn’t the ideal place to ask this, and this isn’t exactly how I wanted to ask you… I can’t wait any longer. Will you spend forever with me and be my wife?” He opens the velvet box in his hand, revealing a beautiful diamond ring.   “Yunho,” you breathe, desperately trying to hold back the tears threatening to fall. “Yes, yes, yes!” you laugh, smiling as you throw your arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly.   He stands slowly, still holding you, as you loosen your grip, letting him slip the ring on your finger. It fits perfectly. Holding it up in the light, you admire the way it sparkles, matching the glint in Yunho’s eyes as he watches you.   “I love you,” he whispers as he reaches over to gently brush the stubborn tears off your cheeks.   “I love you too, Yunho,” you reply, grinning, as you wrap your arms around his neck again. “So much.” He returns your smile before placing a tender kiss against your lips, one you immediately return.   “How long have you had this?” you ask, gesturing toward the ring as you pull back.   “A few weeks,” he responds, laughing slightly. “I was waiting for the perfect time, but I couldn’t hold it in any longer.”   “I’m glad you didn’t,” you reply, still smiling, realizing you haven’t been able to stop smiling since Yunho proposed.   “Again, I’m sorry it’s in your living room with the credits to Spiderman playing in the background,” Yunho pouts, glancing at the TV.   You giggle, “Somehow, I think it’s perfect.”   “Are you sure?” he asks, suddenly looking worried.   “Yunho,” you cup his face in your hands. “The only thing I care about is getting to marry you. The time or place you asked me isn’t important at all.”   “Really?” he asks, sighing in relief.   “Obviously,” you respond. “Sometimes you’re such a dork, you know that?”   “Hey, you just called your fiancé a dork,” Yunho quirks an eyebrow, and you throw your head back, laughing.   “I’m sorry, fiancé,” you reply with a wink, watching as he playfully rolls his eyes at you.   “Seonghwa is gonna kill me when he realizes I asked you in such an unromantic setting,” Yunho sighs, shaking his head.   “We both know Hwa is a little too much of a romantic sometimes,” you laugh. “Besides, what could be more romantic than Spiderman?”   “Exactly!” Yunho lights up and you giggle at his silliness.   “You know, everyday I realize more and more why your Aniteez is a puppy,” you speak up, mostly to yourself, as you watch Yunho excitedly text the Ateez group chat.

When he sends the text, he throws his phone down, moving to scoop you up in his arms, grinning when you let out a small yelp from the unexpected action.   “Wanna watch one more movie before I leave?” he asks, and this time it’s your turn to light up even more than you already were.   “When would I ever say no to that?” you ask, letting him pull you over to the couch with him.   “The next Spiderman movie?” Yunho suggests, looking up at you from his position already seated on the couch as you stand in front of him.   “Why not?” you respond, laughing, as Yunho tugs you down with him, cheering at your willingness.   “We should have a Spiderman themed wedding,” Yunho wonders aloud as the movie starts playing.   “Absolutely not,” you respond, pinching his sides a little in warning.   He laughs, grabbing your hands to stop you, “Alright, alright.”   A few minutes pass in silence, but you should have known it wouldn’t last long with the excited man beside you.   “At least the cake?”   “Yunho!”

[mockerycrow]

I WANT IT (Soap x GN!Reader)

soap masterlist

summary; soap is on leave with the 141 and you’re visiting him. he invites you to meet the boys, and you get a little buzzed—he offers to take you home, but you get a little.. handsy.

authors note; i saw a tiktok video. that’s the excuse. i did not proofread this; i saw the tiktok and wrote it. and @kivino let me talk about this, blame them. /j

[WARNINGS; poor knowledge of motorcycles, alcohol ingestion (not enough to be drunk), extremely suggestive, groping, suggested exhibitionism, technically you did not ask for consent but Johnny enjoys every single second of this.]

“IT WAS NICE meeting you guys!” You grin, shaking Johnny’s Captain’s hand, and then his fellow sergeants. You and, what was his name.. Ghost? You two settled on waves. “Likewise, mate.” Price hums, a smile on his lips. “Wouldn’t mind seeing you again, you’re always welcome, yeah?” Price glances at Soap and then you, earning a laugh from your chest.

“You sure you want Johnny bringing you home?” Ghost teases lightheartedly—he knows Johnny is careful, but he also knows Johnny rides fast. You smile at his tease, and you can tell he’s being just a tad bit serious. Ghost elected to be the Designated Driver for his Captain and Gaz, but he wouldn’t mind if he had to take you home, too. You aren’t drunk per say, but you definitely should not be behind a wheel nonetheless.

You shake your head no in response before saying, “I appreciate the concern, but Johnny has gotten me home safe plenty of times.” Johnny. That’s one thing the 141 has noticed; the only person they’ve ever known to be given permission to call Soap that is Ghost—and you now, apparently. Guess it makes sense when Johnny said, “Only L.T. and someone else can call me that.”

“If you say so, love.” Gaz laughs and pats your shoulder, glancing over to see Johnny gearing up his motorcycle, two helmets hanging off of the handle grips. Guess he came prepared, and is eager to set off. You say your goodbyes and after making sure the two drunk men and their chauffeur get into their vehicle safely, you walk over to Johnny, who’s wearing his gloves and his unzipped protective jacket. “Ye ready t’ride?” He asks with an excited grin—he’s been away for a couple of months and you haven’t ridden with him in at least a year.

“Always,” You reply with a grin of your own. Johnny helps you slip on the helmet and adjusts the straps accordingly, biting at the corner of his lower lip as he focuses on making sure you’re safe. You can’t help but wonder if he does the same thing whilst defusing an explosive device. “There we go.” Johnny chuckles before slipping his own helmet on, adjusting his straps. He teasingly flips down your visor before doing the same with his own—the sun is setting, to be fair—and he hops onto his motorcycle.

Johnny holds out an arm, helping you get into the back of the motorcycle behind him. You grunt as you situate yourself, your hands grabbing his waist as you wiggle a bit. Once you deem yourself safe and comfortable, you wrap your arms around his abdomen and lean against his back. Johnny tilts his head back, bonking his helmet into yours; his way of asking if you’re okay for to him go now, considering you two can’t hear each other. Johnny doesn’t have those helmets with speakers and microphones yet.

You laugh a bit before bonking him back, causing him to rev his motorcycles engine and you feel him begin to drive off. The air feels nice against what skin is exposed as Johnny pulls out of the parking lot and onto the main road, slowly speeding up as there is no one else on the road with you two. Your eyes trace the purple-pink clouds and sky, the sun radiating a beautiful orange, the colors looking absolutely jaw dropping tonight.

Your mind begins to wander to the events of tonight; the drinking game that you ended up winning—you aren’t sure how—which is why you’re just a little buzzed. You think about Johnny’s teammates and how they all work together very nicely, even in a civilian environment.. and then your mind drifts to Johnny. Sweet ol’ Johnny in those fucking jeans.

God, you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or what, but something about Johnny in the outfit he wore tonight was making you feel so feral. He is wearing some dark blue jeans that mold to his legs so perfectly, showing off his thick thighs, as well as a white t-shirt and a biker’s jacket over the shirt. Nonetheless, you felt like a goddamn dog because you swore you nearly drooled over him at least three times during the course of the night.

You aren’t sure what demon possesses you to give you the confidence that suddenly surges in your veins, but honestly you can’t bring yourself to care. Your arms slowly unwrap from around his abdomen, and you feel Johnny’s back muscles—that you wanna drag your nails down all of a sudden—tense up. You know he’s probably wondering what you’re doing, but you don’t pay that any mind as your hands go to his sides, slowly sliding down to over the curves of his hips. You feel the material of his jeans underneath your fingers and how the muscle is pressing against the seams—you just can’t help yourself.

You feel the bike turn as you begin to go around a curve in the road. Your hands squeeze his hips before one of your hands presses down and slowly rubs over his thigh to the inner part of it, your fingers squeezing the muscle covered by his jeans. You feel Johnny straighten his posture and you grin underneath your helmet, light arousal flowing through your veins as your other hand slowly moves to his lower stomach, right above the belt buckle of his jeans. You’re suddenly grateful Johnny decided—or more likely forgot—to keep his jacket unzipped, because you can’t resist sliding your hand underneath his shirt.

You feel his skin and the soft hair trailing up to his belly button—his goddamn happy trail, which the acknowledgment of it makes a hot flash to flow through you. Johnny’s stomach muscles flex under your touch and you feel him tense as your fingers threaten to dip underneath the waistband of his jeans. Your other hand drifts dangerously close to his groin, your fingertips nearly brushing directly where you want them to—or, actually seems like where Johnny wants them to.

You didn’t even notice that you’ve come to a stop, and Johnny grabs the wrist of the hand where your fingers are dangerously close to his crotch and cold panic flows through you; is he uncomfortable? Did you go too far, despite the late night flirts and hot, needy kisses over the years? No, none of that. You made the right decision, you realize, as Johnny presses your hand directly against his crotch, pressing your palm into his hardened, clothed cock at the fucking red light.

The cold panic is quickly replaced with burning arousal, slapping you right in the face as you feel a vibration from Johnny’s chest—he’s fucking groaning and rutting his hips into your hand like goddamn dog. Your eyes flutter shut as your lungs stutter in your chest, your hand groping his crotch. Your fingertips scratch at his happy trail, making the muscles underneath his skin stutter.

Johnny’s flips up his visor and looks over his shoulder at you as he shamelessly grinds into your palm, which you’re pressing down onto his cock now. You make eye contact and jesus, he looks fucking delicious. His eyes are half lidded and you can tell his face is red, his pupils blown out—you can barely see, but you know they are—and something tells you this isn’t ending when he drops you off, especially when you feel his cock twitch beneath his jeans when a car rolls up next to you at the red light.

[vampmattsbae]

Coffee Kisses

pairing: grumpy!Luke! Matt x sushine!Lorelai! reader

summary: Every morning you come to your favourite coffee shop, which happens to be owned by your boyfriend, to tell him about everything.

warnings: very fluffy, no smut (yet 😈), established relationship, gilmore girls!au

a/n: this is just a love child of two things I love very much. I'm super excited abt this one hehe

It's another beautiful day in Stars Hollow. The leaves are changing colour and falling from the trees. Pumpkins litter the town, waiting to be bought and carved. You can smell fall in the air as you walk into your favourite coffee shop, which happens to be owned by your boyfriend. The bell jingles as you open the door. Matt hears the sound and looks up to see you walking towards him with a huge smile on your face. He instinctly grabs the coffee pot as you take a seat at the counter.

"What's got you so smiley?" Matt starts in a monotone as he grabs a mug and starts to fill it for you.

You thank him and take a sip of your coffee before answering his question. "Alright, ya know how my microwave literally never worked? Not that I make my own meals that often, but sometimes i just want microwave popcorn or something and I couldn't cus I have a janky microwave but, now I don't!" You ramble on while Matt nods, listening intently to your words.

"Thank god I won't have to come over and try to fix that thing anymore." Matt mumbles.

"Yeah, you could never get it to work and you always fix things. So there was definitely something deeply wrong with that thing." You say before taking a long sip of your coffee.

"So, did you get a new microwave or..?" Matt asks, leaning in as you start to ramble again about how the new microwave is like a literal robot and how the microwaves are going to take over. He's fascinated by how much you can talk but also how good you look doing it.

"Baby you're staring." You cut yourself off with a smirk. Matt's eyes widen once you catch him.

"No, I wasn't" He says firmly, looking in your eyes.

"Ok, whatever you say. I'm sure you weren't even listening to me about-" You're cut off by Matt leaning over the counter to put his lips on yours, shutting you up. He pulls away and shushs you, lightly sighing when he sees your coffee cup is empty. You're left in shock as he walks over to grab the coffee pot once more. The kiss was very brief but it left you wanting more. Matt tries to pour more coffee in your mug but you stop him, lightly pushing the pot away.

"I don't think I need a whole 'nother cup" You whisper, looking up at him with a slight smirk.

"You sure you can't wait till tonight? Look around, this my busiest hour" Matt states, motioning to all the tables filled with customers. It is late morning in a coffee shop, so lots of people are waking up to get their breakfast.

"Ok fine, you win" You smile before grabbing your purse to pay for the coffee.

"Oh, don't worry Y/n, it's on the house" Matt says like it's the most obvious thing ever.

You look up and stop digging in your purse with a small smile. "Matt, you can't do that everytime I come in" You say as you zip up your purse.

"Um, yes I can. Alright, I'll see ya tonight?" He says, leaning over then counter for another kiss.

"Yes you will, I'll meet you here" You says giving him a small peck before hopping off the barstool and walking away. Matt watches you through the window as you walk down the street. his attention theb turns back towards the customers. His waitress, Lane, looks like she's struggling a bit with all the tables so he decides to help her out. He won't admit it but he is very excited for the night ahead.

Tags: @sluts4matt @franticroads @fratbrochrisgf @khalei-20 @stete-ss

[nottsbitch]

My Star- Theo Nott

Harry potter au singer girlfriend X theo nott Italics are flashbacks

✩✩✩✩

"June it's almost time for you to go on"

Since you were younger you had always known that you wanted to be famous. Whether it came from acting in front of a camera or singing on stage. While most people thought that was an out-of-touch dream you knew it was exactly what you wanted.

"I'm almost ready!" That was a lie.

You weren't ready. Tonight was the last show of your first tour and you were supposed to be excited but for some unknown reason, you couldn't be. Of course, that reason wasn't actually unknown.

Your long-term boyfriend, Theo, had been your biggest supporter and your biggest inspiration. You were so blindly in love that every milestone in your relationship had become a song.

Your first song that took off was called "Spring into Summer" which you wrote after your first fight.

"All I'm saying is you could've told me. You know gave me a warning instead of me being blindsided when my friends are texting me telling me that they see my girlfriend out to lunch with her ex-boyfriend who she told me stopped bothering her." In all of their relationship June had never seen her boyfriend this upset before.

She went to try and explain herself but before you could get her mouth open Theo was talking again.

"You know I love you but when you do things like this I have to wonder if you feel the same way about me."

A shot to the heart was all that June felt.

"Theo... Don't say that." You paused "You know I love you"

"So you have a good reason for why you were with your ex?" You stayed silent. "That's what I thought"

With that your boyfriend stormed out with a slam of a door leaving you with his scent and your thoughts.

That night you wrote the lyrics

"If I could jump into the past I'd only change one thing, I'd never hurt you first, I'd never let you leave"

Your next song that blew up was called "So American" and once again your boyfriend was the center of that one. This one was written about your first day all those years ago.

"So you're saying that every morning you wake up and choose to eat beans on toast?" Maybe not the best thing to say on a first date but you were so stunned you couldn't hold that in.

"You're so American and it's showing. Yes, I wake up and eat this." He muttered while chuckling "And yes I enjoy it very much."

After breakfast, you guys walked London getting to know each other. And when you were getting dropped off back at your aunt and uncle's house Theo handed you flowers he had bought just moments before and kissed your cheek. Once inside you quickly whipped your phone out texting your best friend:

"Oh god I'm gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up"

"So it went good then?"

"He laughed at all my jokes"

After many years together and many songs written, He had become a safe place for you. When you decided that you were going to go on tour Theo was almost as excited as you. Swearing that he would be at every show. But when his mom got sick he had to take a flight home missing over half the tour, and you couldn't be upset. But in moments like the one you were currently in you selfishly wish that your boyfriend could be right there with you.

"Okay, June you've got this. It's just the biggest show you've ever played. Don't let this psych you out." You looked a little crazy talking to yourself in the mirror like that but that was the least of your worries.

"Wow, Lucky Star. I haven't seen you for a few weeks and you're going crazy, Talking to yourself and all. Should we have you checked out?" Theo had been standing behind you for longer then you had noticed and decided that he should make himself known.

You turned around hopping out of your chair knocking it over in the process as you ran to your boyfriend. You jumped into his calming arms in silence just to make sure this was real.

"what are you doing here?" You uttered just loud enough for him to hear

"You think I would miss your last show?" He raised his eyebrows, smirking, like something was funny.

"what about your mom?"

"She'll be fine for a night although she wishes she could be here" He set you down moving his hands from your waist to your face "Enough about me how do you feel?"

No matter how long they had been dating he never failed to make your heart flutter.

"I'm a little bit nervous"

"I brought you something maybe this can help you calm down" He pulled something out of his pocket

"A keychain?"

He rolled his eyes "Flip it over"

YOU ARE MY LUCKY STAR

"Just so you never forget" He started quickly noticing the tears forming in your eyes "Don't cry you just got your makeup done. What youre gonna do is go out there and kill it like you always do"

✩✩✩✩

"Send her up" You heard in your earpiece as you started getting raised to the stage.

As you came into view all you could hear was cheers.

"Hi! Everyone!"

Cheers

"Thank you all for coming tonight. I know most shows I've stayed true to my setlist but tonight we're gonna switch it up a little bit. As most of you know most of my songs are written about my lovely boyfriend Theodore Nott."

You paused while everyone cheered as you put your guitar on

"Well, he's here tonight for the first show in a little bit so I'm gonna sing his favorite song I've written about him... So this one is called So High School."

With that, you started playing your guitar as the crowd got silent. Looking over to the VIP tent you saw your boyfriend smiling at you with his phone out recording like a proud mother.

"I feel so high school every time I look at you"

✩✩✩✩

[somethinginthewayiam]

The girl behind the bar (Part 4.2)

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: banter, bad pick-up lines

words: 3.6k

Summary: After Penny allowed you to open the bar for the few navy pilots, you hang with your group at the pool table since you weren't actually working and you challenge Hangman to a game of pool...

a/n: I hope you have as much fun reading this chapter as I had writing it. It's probably one of my favorites. All the pick-up lines used in this chapter are courtesy of the instagram page of jimmyandnath. Check them out, they're really funny.

Link to my masterlist

“Who’s ready for the first round?”, you called out and everybody basically ran towards the counter. By now, you were used to those kinds of rushes, they didn’t scare you anymore. You collected their credit cards and opened the tabs before you placed a few bottles of beer on the counter and opened them in a row. Then you filled the glasses with the beer from the tap and handed out a few tumblers with Whiskey, Bourbon or Jack Daniels. Everybody spread out across the bar, someone put some money in the jukebox and filled the room with music. Counting yourself, there were 13 people in the bar but they managed to make it sound like thrice the amount.

Since you weren’t actually working tonight, you grabbed a beer and walked over to the pool table where your typical group of people had settled for now. It was nice to get the chance to sit down with them for a change. Normally you were working and didn’t have time for a real chat, only some small talk or, in Hangman’s case, a little back and forth of jokes and banter.

“Hey Y/N, up for a round of pool? We’re playing two against two”, Fanboy asked you. You found Hangman and Coyote on the other side of the table, revealing who your opponents were going to be. You always wanted to play against Hangman and this was your chance. “Sure”, you simply said and hopped off the bar stool at the wall. Bob handed you his cue as he walked past you and took your seat.

“I always see you play every time you’re in here. Let’s see how good you really are”, you challenged Hangman when you stepped up to the table. “Oh, I am good, I’m very good”, Hangman assured you.

You put the end of the cue down on the floor and it slipped from your hand. “Whoops”, you said in surprise and picked it back up. When you stood straight again, you caught Hangman and Coyote exchanging a look like it would be the easiest thing in the world to beat you at this game.

“How we’re gonna do this, Fanboy?”, you asked and tried again to lean on your cue. “Uhm, okay, we’re playing team against team, meaning every time it’s our turn we take turns playing the ball”, he explained to you and didn’t look so excited about forming a team with you anymore.

“And do we play with the fully colored ones or do we play all and just see who’s quicker?”, you asked and had trouble holding down your giggle. Even to your own ears you sounded stupid. “That is determined by the break”, he answered. “Who’s taking a break?”, you asked bluntly. “I mean when we shoot the first shot, we’ll see which we sink first and we play the rest of that color”, he explained and almost looked pained.

“Okay, then let’s go”, you said enthusiastically. Hangman had a wide smile on his face. He couldn’t wait to start playing and wipe the floor with you.

“Wanna make it interesting? How about a little bet?”, Payback stepped forward. You looked at Hangman and he looked at you, challenging you with his eyes. “I don’t think we need to put a bet on it”, Fanboy chimed in, sounding nervous. “Alright. What do you suggest?”, you asked but looked at Hangman.

“When I win, you have to serve me every drink with a bow and a ‘here’s your drink, my master’ for a week”, Hangman suggested, his look dead on you. The fact that he used when and not if didn’t go unnoticed by you. You let your tongue run along the inside of your bottom lip as you contemplated.

“Okay. And if I win you have to work a shift at the Hard Deck, call me boss all night and literally do anything I tell you to. You’ll be pretty much my bitch”, you countered his bet.

You saw how his jaw stiffened, his teeth grinding and you had to bite down on the inside corners of your mouth to keep them from curling upwards.

He extended his hand and you took it. “The bet is on”, he almost grunted. His grip tightened around your hand. “Nervous?”, he asked, not letting go just yet. “Only about the many glasses you’re gonna drop during your shift”, you threw back at him with an equally low voice.

Coyote and Fanboy stood off to the side, exchanging looks and already regretting being your team mates.

“Alright, let’s do this”, you said, walked back to where you were first sitting, pushed your cue into Bob’s hands and took a sip of your beer. You used the hairband you had on your wrist to tie your hair back up into a ponytail. Meanwhile, Coyote set up the balls in the triangle on the other side of the table and after doing so, placed the plastic triangle on the little table behind him.

You took your cue back from Bob’s hands and walked back to the table. “Who’s starting us off?”, you asked in the round, looking at Fanboy, Coyote and then Hangman, who was smiling, confident of victory. “Ladies first”, he said and placed the cue ball on the marked spot on the table.

“I can take the first shot”, Fanboy came a step closer, whispering, looking as concerned as can be. “I got this, don’t worry”, you whispered back and winked at him.

“Gentlemen”, you announced with a loud voice, focusing everybody’s attention on you and you took the two steps to stand directly in front of the cue ball. “We’re playing 8-ball on a 9-foot-regulation table. I will start us off with the break”, you said, bent forward, aligned your cue with the cue ball and took the first shot.

You watched as the balls spread out on the table, a solid and a striped one disappeared in the pockets. “Table is open”, you announced and walked around the table to where the cue ball had landed and aimed your next shot. “Solids, number 2, right side pocket”, you announced your shot and after a second of aiming, you sank your next ball.

“Fanboy, you’re up”, you told him and looked up from the table. You found everybody looking at you with dumbfounded expressions on their faces. Your face lit up with a confident smile.

“Wait, what?”, Fanboy called out and said what everybody was thinking. “What the hell just happened?”, Payback asked. “I played a lot of pool in my twenties”, you simply said and shrugged your shoulders.

“Why did you act like you haven’t seen a pool table from up close before?”, Coyote asked. “And miss out on the stupid looks on your faces? No way!”, you told him and shot a big smile at Hangman, who was suspiciously silent.

“Come on, Fanboy”, you called him again, nodding at the table to take his shot. He walked to where the cue ball had landed and started to aim at the number 5. “Take the 7, over the head rail”, you advised him and motioned the way the cue ball had to travel with your finger in the air. He breathed out loudly, indicating that that wasn’t an easy shot for him. “You got this”, you patted his back.

Fanboy took a beat to think about the shot. “Number 7, left side pocket”, he announced, aligned his cue and took the shot over the head rail like you had told him. The ball came a bit slow but he managed to sink it. “Yes!”, he called out and you high-fived.

It was your turn again. You grabbed the chalk and gently wiped it over the tip of your cue, holding the eye contact with Hangman, a sugary sweet smile on your face. You blew the dust off the cue tip, still looking at him. Only after that, you took a look at the table and decided on your next shot.

“Number 1, bottom right corner, over the long rail”, you announced the shot and executed it perfectly which earned you a few Ohs and Ahs from your little audience.

Fanboy was up again and despite his best efforts, he didn’t manage to sink the ball and now it was, finally, Hangman’s turn. “Okay, let’s get this over with”, he said, rolled his shoulders back and bent his neck to either side as he stepped towards the table.

“12, upper left”, he said and quickly sank the ball. You took a sip from your beer, not getting nervous. His cockiness will ultimately be his downfall, you could only hope that the time has come tonight. You did everything in your power to make that happen.

Hangman went on to immediately align his cue with the cue ball again. “Hey, it’s Coyote’s turn”, Rooster called out Hangman’s little cheat. Jake presented Rooster with a death-glare before he rose up again and took a step back. You and Fanboy exchanged a little smirk as Hangman seemed a bit nervous.

Coyote, sadly, couldn’t handle the pressure and missed his shot. “Come on, man”, Hangman called out in frustration. “Oh, is it me again?”, you asked with playful innocence and walked towards the table. You heard Rooster chuckling behind you.

The cue ball had landed on the opposite side of the table and you had to walk around to where Hangman was standing. “Excuse me”, you said and looked up at him from under your lashes. If you weren’t mistaking, you heard him growling at you before he reluctantly took a step to the side.

You scanned the table. For the solids, the numbers 4, 5 and 6 were left before you had to sink the 8-ball and would, ultimately, win the game and the bet with Hangman. But with how your balls were set on the table at the moment, every shot was tricky.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you went through the possible shots in your head, visualizing them. “Okay, number 6, left side pocket”, you announced and bent forward to place the cue on the edge of the table. “How?”, Phoenix asked confused as the cue ball was nowhere near placed for that shot to be possible in her eyes. You extended your arm and let the cue shoot forward, hitting the cue ball, which bounced off the opposite long rail from where you were standing, hitting the short rail and coming straight for the number 6, not only sinking the ball but also stopping in a perfect place for Fanboy’s next shot.

“Like this”, you said to her and stood up straight again. You turned to look at Hangman and said, “Geometry, baby!”, and shot him a sly grin. When playing pool, your cockiness could match his and you weren’t the slightest way sorry about that because you knew you were good at it. Hella good!

Fanboy sank the number 5 with ease and now only the number 4 was left. But it was an impossible shot and everybody saw it. And if you weren’t sure already, you only needed to take a look at Hangman’s face which lit up like a child’s face on Christmas morning.

“Okay, we all see it, I’m gonna say it. There’s no way I’ll sink that ball, but here goes”, you said. Since you knew it was about to be Hangman’s turn, you at least tried to place the cue ball as shitty as possible. He still had a lot of balls on the table though, so it wasn’t impossible to hit something.

“Oh, is it my turn again?”, he asked cheerful and came up to the table after taking a sip of his drink. “13, upper left”, he announced and sank it. “10, right side pocket”; Coyote stepped up and sank his ball too. Now they had finally found their flow and sank ball after ball. Your hopes of beating Hangman at something died little by little with every ball he and Coyote sank.

Hangman was about to sink his last ball before the 8-ball. “It was nice wiping the floor with you two”, he said with a slimy voice and bent forward to take his second to last shot.

He indeed sank the last ball but he also sank the cue ball and therefore immediately forfeited his turn to you.

Everybody gasped including you. The expression on Hangman’s face was a picture for the gods. “Oh my!”, you called out and hopped off your chair with big eyes. Fanboy still had to sink the number 4. It was a hard shot but not impossible. Like a real fighter pilot, he withstood the pressure and sank the ball.

Now, only the 8-ball was left on the table. They only thing you had to do was sink it and you could call sweet victory our own. You emptied your bottle of beer and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

You stepped forward towards the table and stood next to Fanboy. Everybody’s eyes were glued to the table while you studied the placement of the ball and whispered to your team partner about the ways to sink it, all while swiping the chalk over the tip of your queue.

“Okay, how about you shoot the cue ball here, not too hard, have it hit the second diamond. Then it should go into the bottom right”, Fanboy suggested as he walked halfway around the table and placed his finger on the spot where he suggested for you to aim.

“Stop helping her”, Hangman called out, looking increasingly more nervous. “They’re on the same team, Bagman”, Phoenix said before she took a sip of her beer.

“Everybody shut up”, you said in a loud voice and bent over to take your shot. You aligned your cue and took a deep breath, focusing on the spot where Fanboy still had his finger placed.

You took another deep breath and when you exhaled, you pushed your cue forward and took your shot. It got really silent as everybody watched the white ball hit the spot at Fanboy’s finger than rolling back into your direction, hitting the 8-ball just enough to have it roll towards bottom right pocket. It moved slowly but consistently and your grip on your cue got tighter as you watched it for every long second until it finally fell into the pocket.

Hangman looked at the pocket in disbelief with big eyes and let his head hang in defeat.

“AHHHH!”, you screamed out in surprise that it actually worked just like the people around you. You threw the cue onto the table and ran towards Fanboy, who was coming at you equally excited and threw yourself into his arms. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we won”, you told him with big eyes as you pulled back at an arms-length. “It was all you, Y/N. That was amazing”, Fanboy congratulated you.

You felt hands on your shoulders that were squeezing and shaking you. When you looked over your shoulder you found Rooster looking like a kid on Christmas morning. He was just so happy that Hangman just got it handed to him. “That was awesome”, he congratulated you. “Thanks”, you said with a bright smile that you just couldn’t wipe off your face.

Your eyes fell on Hangman who was coming towards you. He extended his hand. “Congrats! I didn’t think you’re gonna make that shot”, he said as he shook your hand. “Are you gonna be a sore loser?”, you asked. “I don’t know, I haven’t lost until now so we’ll see”, he said and the cocky tone in his voice was back. That didn’t last long. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Well, then I’ll make sure you don’t forget this moment so you get a LOT of practice”, you said and it sounded like a promise.

“Let’s raise our drinks to Y/N, the defeater of Bagman”, Phoenix called out and everybody raised their bottles and glasses to toast to you. Even Jake managed to grab his beer and give you a little toast while you smiled in the round and bathed in your victory.

A little later, everybody was sitting in little groups at the tables, the jukebox was playing in the background. You were sitting together with Fanboy, Payback, Rooster, Phoenix, Bob, Hangman and Coyote after handing out more drinks and somehow you had arrived on the topic of stupid pick-up lines.

“Are you my pinky toe? ‘Cause I bang you on the table seven times a day”, Fanboy said and some of the guys nodded, other’s laughed, you and Phoenix rolled your eyes.

“Is that a phone in your back pocket? ‘Cause that ass is calling me”, Coyote said. “I like that. That would work on me ‘cause my ass is great”, you said and clinked the neck of your bottle against Coyote’s. You must really be a bit drunk to just say stuff like that to everybody.

“Okay, I got one. Are you a shark? ‘Cause I’ve got some swimmers for you to swallow”, it was Paybacks turn to be gross. “Come on”, you called out, pulled a face but laughed anyway.

“My dick is so polite, it stands up so you can sit down”, Bob suddenly spoke up. The table got quiet and everybody looked at him with big eyes, seriously surprised that those words had just come out of his mouth. “Ma man”, Coyote leaned forward and patted Bob’s shoulder. The whole table erupted in laughter “Dude, you’re making me blush”, you said and in return made him blush. “That’s a good one, I gotta write that down”, Fanboy said and jokingly pulled over a napkin like he was actually taking notes. “Yeah? Let me know how that works out for ya”, Rooster commented with a chuckle and took a swig of his drink.

“Are you a washing machine? Because I have a load for you”, Hangman said and everybody groaned. “Hangman, don’t make me ring that bell. You know the rules”, you warned him and pointed at the sign hanging in the middle of the bar circle. “What did I do?”, he asked surprised. “You’re bordering on disrespecting women”, you told him. “Your whole existence is a disrespect to women”, Phoenix chimed in. “I just said what everybody else said. Why is it gross when I say it?”, he asked honestly offended. “Because everything sounds gross when you say it”, Phoenix lectured him. “Whatever”, he said and threw some empty peanut shells at her which made her laugh.

“Why is it always about banging and swallowing your stuff? What happened to ‘Hello, my name is…Can I buy you a drink?’ or ‘You look beautiful, I would like to get to know you’”, you asked into the round, honestly irritated. Phoenix nodded agreeingly while she took a sip from her drink. “Those phrases have been worn out, they don’t work anymore”, Payback waved it off. “Works when you haven’t heard it that much”, you mumbled at the rim of your beer bottle before you took a sip. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hangman looking over at you.

“You have to be clever, creative or those chicks won’t give you any attention”, Fanboy chimed in and pulled everybody’s attention on him. “And you wanna tell me that a cheesy pick-up line talking about your jizz will earn you more numbers than an honest ‘Hello, how are you’?”, Phoenix asked and shook her head. “Works on the right girls. I like ‘em freaky”, Fanboy answered her and wiggled his eyebrows.

“No wonder, you never get laid”, Rooster commented and made everybody laugh.

“You guys need a new round?”, you asked to change the topic. “I think we’re good for the night”, Rooster said and finished his beer. “We’ve got an early call tomorrow”, he added and got up from his chair.

“Hey, everybody! Pack it up”, Phoenix shouted and earned a few groans. It was already past 10 PM.

Not only did everybody collect their things, ready to go, but to your surprise, they all brought their bottles and glasses to the bar, placing them on the counter.

“Wow, thanks guys. Why don’t you do this every time?”, you jokingly asked as you closed the tabs and started handing back all the credit cards.

“Do you know how you get home? You shouldn’t drive”, Rooster asked as you handed him his card. “A bunch of you shouldn’t drive home anymore”, you countered. “We all Uber home and get our cars tomorrow”, he replied. “Oh okay, sounds reasonable”, you nodded and collected the glasses off the bar. “You should come with us, we get an Uber pool anyways”, Phoenix leaned on the counter, resting her head in her hands.

“I still have to clean up, you don’t have to wait for me”, you shook your head and smiled at her begging face. “Just come in earlier tomorrow”, Fanboy suggested. “It hurts my heart leaving you here”, Phoenix added and it made you chuckle.

“Alright, just let me put all the glasses in the baskets and wipe down the counter real quick”, you yielded your protest. “Yay”, Phoenix said and came around the bar. “I’m helping you. Come on, guys”, she waved over her colleagues.

“I’ll get us the Uber”, Payback said and got out his phone. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Coyote and Hangman leaving through the front door.

With the help of the others, it only took you a few minutes to clean up most of the bar before the Uber arrived. The six of you got in the van and got dropped off one by one at your houses and apartments. You were the last one in the car and it was 11 PM when you finally walked through your front door.

Next chapter: Part 5.1

[hgfictionwriter]

Maybe This Time - Part Six

Jessie Fleming X Reader

Summary: Jessie’s on top of the world and simply cannot wait to see you. She can finally hold you in her arms and call you hers. Final confessions as you reunite.

Warnings: Nothing but Fluff (capital ‘F’) and emotions, folks.

A/N: Romance! Slow burn finally pays off! Hope you all enjoy. I loved writing this. Other parts are available here.

Jessie's body felt like it was buzzing as she rode down the street. She cleared her throat as she tried to fight off an impending smile, but was only half successful.

She got to her destination and hopped off her bike, walking it to a nearby rack to lock it up. Her phone vibrated and she smiled before even looking at it. She unlocked it and read the last few messages in your conversation.

"Made it back to my apartment 👍 Are you done work?"

"I'm glad! I hope you're planning to take a nap. And do absolutely nothing this evening other than rest. I know you slept on the plane, but still. Sorry for the delay – I just got out of a meeting. I'm logging off for the day. Hallelujah lol."

"No worries at all. I know you're a busy and important lady lol. And no naps just yet, but I did laundry! What are you up to this evening?"

"Of course you did laundry already lol. Why am I not surprised haha. Promise me you won't do chores all evening. I'm not up to much tonight. TBD, I suppose lol."

Jessie smiled to herself furthermore as she called you.

"Hello?" You said, a curious laugh in your voice as you greeted her.

"I promise I won’t do chores all evening," Jessie replied, pulling a laugh out of you.

"Very good," you said in approval. "Cause, you know, I'd hate for our first fight to be about laundry. That would just be silly."

"First fight?" Jessie inquired. "That seems like something that usually requires more than one date, so that sounds promising."

You laughed. "True. Well, if you play your cards right we'll have enough dates that we'll eventually hit the 'first fight' milestone. Where are you anyway? It sounds like you're outside."

"Yeah, just finished biking," Jessie relayed, smiling into the phone. "Are you done work yet?"

"Yeah, I've shut everything down. I'm just looking for something to watch. I'm too lazy to start dinner just yet," you explained. "Wait, hold on, I'm getting another call. Oh, it's my buzzer. That's weird."

"Maybe you should answer it," Jessie suggested. You gave a weary sigh, that made her stifle a laugh.

"Fine. Okay, hold on."

Jessie stood there as the call on her phone went silent and your voice came through the buzzer speaker.

"Hello?"

"Hi," Jessie said, voice cheerful as she tried to tamp some of her excitement.

"Jess? Wait. Hold on, I thought I switched over to the buzzer. Just a sec."

Jessie stifled another laugh and waited patiently as you sorted things out. She finally laughed while you muttered to yourself.

"Buzz me in," Jessie said.

"Wait. What? I'm confused."

She laughed again. "Y/N. I'm at your apartment. Buzz me in."

"What?" Your voice was high with surprise. "You're kidding me."

"I'm not," Jessie chuckled. "I mean, if you want me to go..."

Instead of receiving a rebuttal, Jessie simply heard the click of the door along with the tone to alert her that the door was unlocked. She stepped inside and headed up to your apartment. She was about to knock on your door when it swung open to reveal you standing there with a scrutinizing look.

Jessie wore a complacent smile on her face as she held up a bag of take-out in front of her.

"I brought you dinner."

"What the heck," you exclaimed as you stepped out, bypassing the bag and pulling Jessie into a tight hug, which she readily returned.

Jessie tucked her head against yours and couldn't resist the content sigh that escaped her as you fit into her arms and pulled her close. It felt new and yet entirely familiar and natural at the same time. The hug lasted several, long moments until you pulled back, though only enough to look Jessie in the eye, arms still around her waist and sending further jolts of electricity up through her body.

"I didn't know you were coming," you said, eyes bright with wonder. Your smile widened. "I didn't think I'd get to see you until next week."

"I know." Jessie nodded. "We were landing and I just..." She paused, gaze flicking away as heat built in her face before she felt something click inside of her and she looked to you, a sudden feeling of ease and comfort coming over her as she took you in. "I just kept thinking about how much I wanted to see you. I know our date's only a week away, but we've waited long enough. I've wasted enough time and don't want to waste any more."

Jessie nearly beamed at the way your cheeks reddened and the way you looked at her. She'd waited years for you to look at her like this. And, well, while maybe she'd seen hints of it years before, now it was unhindered and there were no 'maybes' left.

Jessie's posture straightened and her breath hitched momentarily as your soft hand came to rest on her cheek.

"You're incredible. You know that, right?" You asked, eyes gentle and warm.

Jessie swallowed. She could hear her pulse pounding in her head as she held your gaze.

"I'm just being honest," she eventually managed to say.

"Well, I love it. And I agree, we've waited long enough," you said as you pulled back and led her into your apartment by her hand.

She followed wordlessly, watching you the whole way through and eventually jerking her head to the side when you finally turned back around. Despite her attempt to hide her staring, she caught the smirk that had snuck across your lips as she turned away. You took the bag of food from Jessie and set it down on the counter, releasing her hand in the process and leaving her missing it immediately.

"If I had known you were coming by I would've tried to look a bit more presentable. You know, not immediately changing into my worst sweats and t-shirt immediately after work finished," you said with a chuckle as you leaned back against the counter. Jessie's head immediately snapped back to you with a deep frown etched on her face.

"What are you talking about? I love it," she said unequivocally. She hesitated momentarily before relaxing into the moment. “You always look good,” she said assuredly. She frowned deeper as you gave her a look that was both disbelieving and affectionate. Eventually, you relented with an eye roll and a faint smirk.

"I suppose you've seen me in worse states than this," you admitted. A wry grin crossed your face as you folded your arms across yourself. "Remember the night after Teagan's year-end party?"

Jessie practically snorted a laugh. "Remember holding your hair back while you puked your guts out all night and morning? Running all over getting whatever remedies for you? Yeah, I remember."

"Yeah, it was like the exorcism," you said plainly before turning haughty, holding your head high. "Well, I learned to never try to out-drink an Aussie."

Jessie laughed and a moment later she smiled wider. "Oh, and remember when you had that extreme flu for like two weeks?"

"Oh yeah, let's not forget that," you deadpanned, giving her a comical stare before slipping back into a smile. "I get it, you've seen me in some very unflattering states."

"And I still-" Jessie caught herself, smile tightening and she cleared her throat. "I'm still interested."

You held her gaze, smiling softly at her before dropping it momentarily as you gently pushed off the counter and took a step towards her. "I'm glad."

The room was silent and the air around you began to infuse with anticipation and brightness. Your smile grew as you held her gaze.

“And I’m still super glad I got up the nerve to tell you about my delusional moment years before.”

Jessie let out a breathy laugh though she didn’t break eye contact. “Not delusional at all. I would’ve done anything to take you on a date.”

“Anything except ask me out,” you replied with a wink. Jessie blushed and her gaze dropped momentarily before she smirked up at you.

“Well, I’ve asked you out now,” she said. You took a step towards her and nodded with a quiet smile.

“You have.”

“And I’m really excited for it,” Jessie added. Her blush deepened a bit despite herself. She didn’t let it stop her this time though. “So excited in fact that I just couldn’t wait the few days to see you again.”

Your smile grew and you closed the space between you, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck. Jessie beamed before quieting her smile while she wrapped her arms securely around your waist.

“Well I'm glad I'm not the only one,” you told her. “Because I didn’t want to wait either.” You swallowed your hesitation. “I missed you. I know it’s silly, b-”

“I missed you too,” Jessie cut in, smiling brightly at you. “All the time. Janine’s always making fun of me because I check my phone way too often to see if I missed anything from you.”

You chuckled and sent a shiver down Jessie’s spine as you began to caress the back of her neck.

“You are far too cute. I love that you do that. I’m the same,” you confessed. "It's hard to believe now that there was a time - too long - when you weren't a constant in my day."

Jessie’s face hurt from trying not to smile too much. She gave you a nod. "I know the feeling."

She took you in, the softness in your eyes as you stood in her embrace. One that wasn't fleeting or masked as something it wasn't. She could hold you, truly hold you. Emotions began to rise in her throat and she let them out in a rush.

“I just can't believe this. I can! But I can't. I just-" She lost her words and shook her head affectionately at you. "I’m glad it’s not too much. You know, me calling you in the middle of the night. Me showing up unannounced. If it’s ever too much, just tell me. I’ve never really dated, so I don’t really know if I’m coming on too strong. Not that I think we’re dating. I know you didn’t agree to that, but-”

Jessie’s words ceased as you brought a single finger gently to her lips. Her breath stilled in her lungs and her heartbeat pounded in her ears as you slowly leaned in, dropping your hand to rest delicately on her shoulder and suddenly your soft lips were upon hers. The kiss lingered and Jessie’s eyes fluttered shut as you leaned subtly into her.

No thoughts registered in Jessie’s mind and she belatedly realized that you’d slowly drawn back, though remaining in her arms. When she gradually opened her eyes she saw you looking at her in what she couldn’t help but interpret as adoration. It made her feel weak in the knees.

“For the record, that’s confirmation that you’re doing great,” you said with a soft laugh.

Jessie was stunned. Elated. She’d pictured kissing you countless times, countless ways, but no dream of hers, no matter how vivid, lived up to this. It wasn’t even a heated, passionate kiss, but it was everything and she felt it down to her toes.

Jessie leaned in and kissed you once more. Deeper this time. Longer. Pulling you closer in her arms, feeling the shape of your body fitting perfectly against hers.

When she finally broke off the kiss, she smiled upon seeing you breathless, a dark pink tinge colouring your cheeks. She wished she could take a picture of you like this.

“Wow,” you breathed. Jessie beamed before tamping her excitement and ultimately just looking smug instead. You gave her a soft shove as you rolled your eyes, but leaned into the embrace further.

“So, dating, huh?” You asked, cheeks still pink.

Jessie’s smugness immediately shifted. She was about to speak, but you beat her to it.

“Don’t get me wrong, it sounds amazing. But I want to be really clear. I know we’ve shared a lot recently, and I don’t know if it’s like this for you, but things feel so natural and right and such a long time coming, but I also know you have your career and you’re at a really special and important time during it. You weren’t exactly looking for a relationship - you have a lot of obligations you need to balance. I don’t want to take you away from anything or be the reason you don’t do the things you want to do. That would never be my intention and I’d never ask you to sacrifice anything, but I don’t want you to make different decisions because of me.”

Jessie waited patiently, ensuring you got everything off your chest before she spoke.

“Y/N, I’ve been searching for this for years. How I felt for you all those years ago, it felt right. And it feels unequivocally right now, too,” she gave a breathless shrug and felt her throat constrict under the strain of her emotions. "And now that you're back in my life. I don't know how I managed without you. And I don't ever want to do it again. It’s you. It’s always been you.

"And I hear you - you don’t want me to compromise my career. But I don’t have to. You have your career as well. We both have obligations, but we already make time for each other. I’m going to keep playing, but if I��m not on the pitch - I’m yours. That’s what I want. And if you’re okay with it, then that’s how it’ll be.”

Jessie’s chest tightened exquisitely as you captured her lips once more.

“I am more than okay with that,” you told her. You narrowed your eyes playfully at her. “So did we just skip the first date and go straight to girlfriends?”

Jessie’s heart jumped into her throat in the best way possible.

“I am perfectly okay with that,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice steady despite the excitement that coursed through her. She couldn’t help herself.

“If I’m being honest, I’ve pictured you as far more than my girlfriend many times.” She paused. “I saw how your exes were with you. I saw how they disappointed you and frustrated you. I’m human and we’re new to this, so of course I won’t be perfect, but I know I can and I do love you better and more than they ever did. I know how to make you smile when you’re feeling your worst, I know how to make you laugh when you’re trying so hard to be stern and serious with me, I know you so well, even after all this time. You’re a part of me. And I want nothing more than to make you so happy.”

She watched your reaction. She expected herself to be blushing, but the things she said were so deeply rooted inside of her it seemed second nature to say. She waited as you stood there speechless, staring back at her with shimmering eyes.

“So, head over heels really did mean you loved me,” you said with a gentle laugh. Jessie didn’t waver.

“Yes. And still do.”

You swallowed, but immediately kissed her once more.

“I know it’s a lot,” she said when the kiss ended, but you spoke before she could go on.

“It is. But it’s real. You were my person all those years. And here you are again. You’re perfect for me. So you’re silly if you think I don’t love you, too.”

“Then say it properly,” Jessie challenged teasingly. “I’ve been waiting a long, long time to hear it.”

You cupped her face in your hands and smiled affectionately at her.

“I love you so much, Jessie,” you professed softly, your words followed up with another kiss from her.

When she pulled back her eyes were bright.

“Let’s get through date #1,” you laughed. “And if the topic of rings comes up at some point over the next few months, well,” you kissed her softly, "so be it."

[thehighladywrites]

— “Let’s try something new.”

pairing: professor eris x reader, feyre makes an appearance

summary: Eris surprises you with a little surprise before your exam. After a fun session you insist on going home, so your friends won’t see you. But what happens when he’s nowhere near?

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smutty scenes, fem reader, professor x student relationship, both are obviously of age,semi public sex, remote controlled vibrator, eris both slightly degrading and praising (love that),kidnapping oop👀

amara’s note: this is kind of a wild one, we also get new info of eris’s background👀 this is especially dedicated for all the eris haters and antis💗 if u find any typos, your eyes are deceiving you. Also yes I know reader getting kidnapped is SO 2014 wattpad y/n with her orbs getting sold to a mafia boss coded but it’s for the plottttt🫡🫡

part 1 part 2 part 2,5 part 3

The sound of the loud fan and random coughs echoed through the silent lecture hall, the only sounds where the clicking of mechanical pens and the rustle of turning paper.

The literature exam wasn’t really something you were worrying about since you were dating eris so you just sat there looking pretty, thinking of ways to have fun with him later on. Life really was more beautiful when you didn’t have to worry about stuff like exams and hard work.

Eris always taught you the night after anyways. And it was much more fun being in his bed as he’s teaching you things, giving you rewards if you answer correctly and punishments if you answered incorrectly.

Your thighs clenched at the idea and you subtly bit your thumb at the thought of tonight.

You felt a zap in your lower stomach, clenching your legs even harder as you remembered that you had a vibrator in you. That’s right, you nearly forgot about the way Eris had slutted you out on his desk before asking if you wanted to try something new today.

He had pulled out an oval shaped, bright pink little vibrator. It was shapes like a U so that it was nestled deep against your g-spot while stimulating the clit at the same time.

At first you were a bit embarrassed at the way he just casually put it in your palm for you to examine. His eyes had darken at the way your cheeks had heated. The goosepumps, indicating your excitement, almost made him pounce on you again.

“It’s not very big. You sure this will feel nice?”

He smiles, gently pushing your hair behind your ear before planting a soft kiss on your plush lips.

“I assure you, you will feel pleasure.”

You decided to be petty, stirring the pot a little.

“Interesting. And how exactly do you know that this feels nice? Have you tested it on other girls?”

His lips twitch in a smirk.

“I’ve tested it on myself.”

Your eyes widen at his casual answer. Eris in bed playing with himself sounded like grade A masturbation material, holy fuck.

His smirk only widened at your shocked face.

“Why deprive myself of such pleasure?”

You nodded, your mind feeling a bit fuzzy.

“Uh-huh. You really shouldn't. And neither should I. So, please put it in me.”

“Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

You obey, lolling out your tounge as he puts the toy in your mouth for you to wet.

You hop of his desk and turn around, bending over as you push your skirt up. His hand massages your ass before slapping it, enjoying the way you yelp.

Eris glances down at his F.P. Journe, clicking his tongue at the amount of time remaining before his hall fills with bothersome students.

He can’t wait for the day you graduate and he can finally leave this fucking place. There’s really nothing keeping him here anymore except you. He finally found a legal business he can use as a front so there was really no need to keep playing professor.

It really fucking irked him that teaching a bunch of hormornal idiots was the job his father had decided to use as a front for the business. But money had to come legally from somewhere right?

Convincing people that the mansion was an ancient family estate passed down through generations proved ridiculously easy. Despite the entire place being new, the idiots didn't bother checking the details.

You wiggle a bit, trying to get him out of his thoughts before the doors infront of you opened. Eris quickly put the toy in with a grin, not surprised by how easy it slid in considering how many times he had you finishing on his tounge.

You rise and shift your weight between your feet, ensuring everything feels just right.

“Oh, i just feel light pressure. Will people hear it?”

“No, not at all. Do you want to try it out before you sit down?”

You nod then almost fall to your knees at the strong vibrations. Letting out a sharp gasp you grab onto his shirt, curling your fist in his shirt.

“How do you feel, my love?”

You take a step closer, resting your head on his steady, beating heart.

“Good. I feel really fucking good.”

Once again, he slaps your ass and this time it feels so much better.

“Mind your language.”

Grabbing his shoulders, you jerk him down and kiss him hard, licking and biting his lips before grabbing your bag and using the side entrance to leave the hall, only to come in with the other students through the big doors.

—

Class started 5 minutes late because Eris needed his hard on to calm down. He was for sure getting you back for it. So when he opened the doors, he told everyone you had assigned seats because of the exams when in reality, he wanted you to have the last row to yourself. There was no one sitting in the back except for you so there was plenty of room for some fun.

The test, a multi-page character analysis and study on one of the course books, was handed to you by Eris along with a few extra pens to occupy yourself. But you still tried your best. He was still your professor and you really wanted to show him that you belonged in his class, you wanted to make him proud of you.

All that flew out of your mind when he started the toy, making your whole body tense before relaxing.

Eris started explaining everything to the class and asked if anyone had any questions before starting.

Then the bastard looked dead into your eyes and asked while he upped the speed,

“Any questions in the back?”

You clenched your legs together and gripped your pen so hard it started to crack,

“No professor.”

He nodded, a ghost of a smile on his and told everyone to start.

Seated, you struggled to answer the questions, constantly distracted by him and the pesky remote tucked in his slacks. Squirming in your seat, your face warmed, attempting to swallow with a dry throat.

It felt so good, having every part of you stimulated. Your entire body was always on edge, goosebumps and heat flaring your body. The onlu thing you hated was that during these two hours of pure ecstasy, he didn’t let you cum once. You were only brought to the knife sharp edge and had pleasure taken away. You considered just fixing it yourself had it not been for your nerves and the other students there.

Finally the exam ended and everyone left to discuss their answers at the cafeteria but you stayed put in your chair, convinced that if you moved, there would be a big stain. When the last student left and Eris locked the doors, you stood up, grabbed your things and tried to leave the room. If he didn’t allow you to cum then you wouldn’t allow him to touch you.

Seated in his chair, he observed your every move until you reached the door. Just as you were about to leave, he pressed the highest setting, causing your knees to wobble.

“Tell me, dear. Why are you so angry at me?”

He approached, crouching beside you, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Okay, maybe he could touch you.

“I’m- wait, it’s too much, Er, please.”

Eris looked at you with mock sympathy and simply went on.

“Did you want to cum? Is that it, hm? My beautiful girl is angry because I didn’t let her cum in a classroom full of others? Are you truly that needy?”

His words mixed with the intensity of the vibrations had you seeing white. You came with a cry, head thrown back and hands grabbing his forearms in a steel grip.

“May I have some more?” you asked with a smile. In response, he mirrored your smile and gladly fulfilled your request.

—

After spending time with Eris in his office, he offered to drive you home, but you opted to walk to avoid being seen by friends at a nearby party.

You should have just let him fucking drive you home

The crisp autumn evening turned unexpectedly traumatic as you strolled home with your AirPods in. An eerie sensation of being followed grew, fueled by a black sedan trailing a few feet away. Heightened paranoia set in, prompting you to quicken your pace.

The car halted, and a tall, red-headed man emerged, his footsteps thudded against the dark sidewalk behind you. As he approached, tension heightened until an unsettling silence fell. Your fight-or-flight instincts peaked, and you turned to confront him, only to find no one there.

Annoyed and frightened, you turned around, only to encounter a wall of muscles but before you could scream, everything went black.

—

Feyre’s pov:

“The number you have dialed is not available right now-”

She tosses her phone onto the couch, wondering where you are. The plan was to get ready together before heading to the party she insisted on attending. She was informed if TA Rhysand's presence, and she couldn't resist checking it out.

She was starting to wonder where you were. You mentioned being ‘busy’with Eris after class, but this was dragging on. Maybe you just decided to bail, but it's odd since you're usually stuck to your phone, and she didn't get a text or anything.

Feyre got a bad feeling in her stomach and decided to pay Eris a visit. She knew it wasn't really appropriate to show up at his place, but that gut feeling wouldn't let go.

And if you were at his house, she’d simply murder you for ignoring her.

You had given her Eris' address a few weeks back, just in case she needed to get in touch with you urgently. Now, she really hoped this wasn't turning into an emergency.

She rolled up to Eris's place, this big gate in the way. Hit the intercom button, started talking.

“Hi professor, it’s me, Feyre Archeron in your AP lit class. Listen, I know this might be inappropriate or whatever but is Y/N in there? I just really need to know since she’s not answering her phone and I haven’t seen her since the exam. If she’s there it’s fine and I understand and I will get outta here but-”

Eris buzzes her in and bolts out to the courtyard before Feyre can even ask about his fancy estate.

Feyre's eyebrows furrow as only Eris appears.

“ Wait, where is she?” she questions.

Eris looks at her with panic, revealing that you left nearly an hour ago.

“Well, if she isn't here, then where the hell is she? Do you think something happened?” Feyre demands.

Eris's eyes harden, jaw clenching.

“Trust me, I'll find out,” he grits out before instructing Feyre to come inside.

🏷️ taglist: @danikamariewrites @daycourtofficial @teenageeggscissorslawyer @jeannineee @natashachelsea @candyjaypoppins @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @acourtofbatboydreams @nocasdatsgay @cyrygher @amara-moonlight @fell-in-luvs @hanitastic @culiehua @daughterofthemoons-stuff @itsphoenix0724 @vanserrasswife @rowaelinsdaughter @redbleedingrose @acourtofwhatthefuck @clairebear08 @hieragalbatorixdottir @rromani-witch @vellichor01 @mischiefmanagers @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @icey--stars @alysena2 @loneliestluvr @meshellexplosionmurder @whatthefuckshappeningrn @thelov3lybookworm @eminvelaris @v3lv3tf0x

[size0forhollywood]

Metafiction

Pt 3.

Content Warning: 21+, NSFW, Smut, Depression, hate fucking, public sex, starvation.

A/n: I think we’re finally starting to like it here. Or at least…our sweet little kitties do..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I..hate..you.”

“I..know.”

~

Something changed after that night in the library. There was something different about Sylus but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

Just like the last two times you were a wreck under him. And yet, instead of leaving you alone he carried you back to the bedroom and tucked you into bed.

You don’t know what to make of his hot and coldness. Why hasn’t he killed you or let you go? Why does he insist you stay at the base? And why does he insist you stay in his room?

You’re curled up under the blankets, tears staining the pillow below. You don’t have the energy to get up, you don’t want to get up. Because you know if you have a disagreement with Sylus it’s going to end with you having an earth shattering orgasm and then him making a derogatory comment that makes you feel sick to your core.

Instead you opt to just lie in bed, wishing and longing for home. You often find yourself thinking about your roommate and best friend. What were they doing right now? Were they looking for you? How long has it been since you’ve vanished off the face of the earth. Did Mephi come through the wormhole too?

So many questions and no way to get answers.

Sylus comes and goes in the room. Usually to drop off a tray of food and some water for you. But he doesn’t linger.

You don’t touch the food but you do drink the water. You want to avoid getting dehydrated again.

The wall and the ceiling was starting to feel like they were closing in on you. It was making you feel numb inside.

You hopped out of bed and sat by the large window. Darkness expands across the land. There really was no sunshine here. You didn’t realise how much you missed the sun until this very moment. You missed its warmth.

You decided this was going to be your new spot. You lift your knees to your chest and rest your chin on them. Staring out the window into nothingness but at least it was different from the wall.

~

Sylus had been keeping himself busy. Not only was he trying to figure out this whole messed up situation he was also fighting back feelings he’s never had to deal with before.

He doesn’t know why fighting with you fills him up with a burning desire to fuck you. He’s never really thought about sex in general. Being the leader of Onychinus, he’s never really indulged in those pleasures. But with you. You do something to him which makes him crave you and it turns him animalistic.

After returning from another trip he goes to the bedroom to check on you. There you are still seated by the window in the exact same position you were in when he left.

He looks at the desk and the food is still there untouched, again. This pains him but also angers him. Why must you be so defiant?

Why can’t you see that he’s helping you? Protecting you? He realises he needs to be able to just talk to you. Get you to understand just how much danger you’re in.

~

You were so lost in your own mind while looking out the window you didn’t hear Sylus calling out to you multiple times.

When you do finally hear him he’s standing right beside you. He’s holding more shopping bags.

“We’re gonna go out tonight. Have a shower and put these on.” He places the bags on the bed.

You straighten up. “We’re gonna leave the compound?”

You just wanted to make sure you heard that right.

“Yes. I’m tired of watching you whither away by the window like a damn house plant.”

Sylus walks towards the door.

“You have 30 minutes.”

You can’t help but feel a little rush of excitement. Finally you get to leave this place, even if it’s just for one night. The idea of seeing other people, a sense of normalcy. You can feel happy tears well up in your eyes.

You hurry to the bathroom to start getting ready as fast as you can.

Your shower was fast but efficient. You’re now standing in the room with a towel wrapped around you looking at the new clothes Sylus got for you.

It was another dress but it was a going out dress. Very elegant, black and red, sylus’ signature colours. There were fancy heels to match and already pinned to the dress was a very familiar looking crow brooch.

There was also a matching set of bras and undies. They were black lace and definitely not what you’re used to wearing but at least it’s something.

You can’t help a little smile form on your face. You get dressed as quickly as you can. Just as you get to putting your heels on Sylus comes back into the bedroom. He’s wearing his signature look with the black jacket draped over his shoulders. He looked quite handsome. Like he always does right y/n?

He takes a moment and looks you up and down. If he’s thinking anything he doesn’t let it show on his face.

“Want some help?” He gestures to your bare feet.

You feel your face go hot but you shake your head. “I’m fine.”

Sylus scoffs and walks over to you.

“Sit.”

You reluctantly sit on the chair, he gets down on one knee and he helps put your heels on. His fingers lingering around your ankles as he fastens the straps. A moment which causes an ache between your legs. After he’s done he stares up at you. He doesn’t move, doesn’t break eye contact. You feel a bit uneasy.

“So where are we going?” You just want to break the aching silence that had fallen between you two.

Sylus smoothly stands back up. “We’re going to a restaurant.” He holds his arm out as an offer for you to grab.

“I’m really not asking.” He warns.

You feel a frown on your face but you begrudgingly take his arm and you walk out of the base together and to one of Sylus’ many cars.

The drive to the restaurant was mostly silent. You spent most of the time looking out the window seeing the outside world. It was nice.

Sylus pulled up in front of a very fancy looking restaurant. He walks around the car and opens the door for you. You’re cautious about his behaviour. Was this just a front for the people?

you enter the restaurant and are greeted by a waiter in a tuxedo. You’ve definitely never been to something as exquisite as this. The inside was beautiful and to be honest pretty romantic looking. Twinkling fairy lights and crystal chandeliers hanging from the white and gold ceiling.

The waiter leads you to your table and once you’re seated you look around. You and Sylus are the only customers.

“Whats going on? A place like this should be filled to the brim.”

“I booked out the whole restaurant.” Sylus was quick to answer.

You bite your bottom lip. “Why would you do that?”

Sylus noticed you biting your lip and his jaw clenched a little.

“I need to talk to you without the risk of being overheard.”

You scoff and pick up your menu and start looking at what you’d like to try. A lot of this stuff you’ve never heard of before so you decide to play it safe and pick a salad.

“You couldn’t just talk to me back at the compound?”

“You were becoming a mindless zombie at the compound. I need you alert and listening to what I have to say.”

You furrow your brows at him. His red eyes not breaking eye contact with you.

The waiter comes back and asks for your drink order.

“Your most expensive bottle of wine, two glasses.” Sylus says before you can say anything.

“And as for the food I’ll have item 70 and she will have item 53”

“Very good sir.”

You start to chew the inside of your cheek trying to not let your anger come out.

“Why did you just order for me?” You ask Sylus through gritted teeth.

“Didn’t want you to make a fool of yourself.”

“You!”

“You’re wine sir.” The waiter interrupts and places a bottle of red wine and two glasses.

“Shall I fill them for you sir?”

All Sylus does is flick his wrist, the waiter nods and then leaves.

“Wine?” Sylus asks while smirking.

“Oh you’re not just gonna do it anyway?” You snap back.

Sylus scoffs, he pours wine into both glasses.

“Let’s try to have a good night.” He retorts.

“With you? That’s impossible.”

Sylus clenched his hand into a fist. Frustration clear across his face.

A tension was starting build in your core as you stare the red eyed man down. His demeanour unwavering.

“Do you remember what I said a few nights ago?”

You feel your own hands ball into fists as you think about that night, how he claimed you on the bed and in the library. How he felt so good ramming himself inside you.

“About the protocores?” He continues.

“Yeah? People want to find them, what has that got to do with me?”

Sylus sighs and squeezes the bridge of his nose.

“They want to find the source of the protocores. Everyone knows something came through that wormhole. They’re all after it.”

There’s silence as you try to understand what he’s saying.

“You. They’re after you.”

Your eyes widen.

“But I’m just a regular person, I don-”

“I don’t think so.” Sylus cuts you off.

“You survived a wormhole. You’re immune to my…charms. You’re connected to Mephisto somehow.” Sylus sits back in his chair as he takes a swig of wine.

“You’re…something..” he say into his glass.

You stare it him for a moment. Trying to make sense of what he’s saying. You’re not anything special, you’re just a regular person. You grab your wine glass and take a few sips. Maybe the alcohol might help.

“So do you understand now why staying with me is your safest option?”

You scowl. “How do I know you’re not lying.”

“I am many things sweetie but I am not a liar.”

You shiver at that pet name. “Don’t call me that!”

Once again, you’re both staring at each other through clenched jaws and fists. The tension building between you two was getting so thick.

The waiter returns carrying two plates of food, he places down a steak and salad in front of Sylus and a seafood pasta dish in front of you, two fresh oysters adorn the plate and you scoff.

“Oysters?”

“They’re a delicacy here. So enjoy them.”

“Where I’m from they’re an aphrodisiac, if I didn’t know better I’d say you’re trying to ply me with alcohol and make me horny.”

Sylus chuckles “we both know I don’t need any of that.”

He stares at you intently while holding a fork and knife in his hand. “Now eat.”

“I don’t like seafood.” You protest. It was a lie of course. You just didn’t want to eat it because he ordered it.

Sylus slams his cutlery down making the table shake.

“Eat.”

You shove your plate to the middle of the table.

“No.”

His red eyes burning into yours but you were not going to back down. He doesn’t get to control you like this. If he was really worried about your safety and protecting you he’d let you keep some autonomy.

“Eat, please.” He was sitting up straight and his eyes flaming with desire, it almost sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.

“No, thank you.”

Something snaps and black and red mist envelopes the table and sends it flying across the restaurant.

You don’t flinch, you stay in your seat staring down the silver haired man in front of you.

The waiters and the kitchen staff stay hidden in the kitchen. As if they’re used to something like this happening.

Sylus stands up from his chair and approaches you.

“Always so fucking stubborn.”

He grabs you by your hips and lifts you up. You smack at his shoulders.

“Put me down!”

He sits you down on another table, hands still on your hips, your dress bunched up, bodies pressed together. His face inches away from yours.

You are both breathing heavy in frustration, the smell of wine intoxicating you further.

You look into his eyes and there you see it again. Even though there was animosity between you two right now there was no hate. There was a want and need. A feeling that could not be squashed down.

You feel your breath quicken and something happens that has never happened before.

Sylus kisses you. It was hungry and passionate. His hands squeeze at your hips as if he’s trying to ground himself.

You return the kiss, your hands running through his hair as you pull him closer to you.

Tongues in cheeks, teeth nibbling lips. Breathy moans escaping between the lip locking and it doesn’t stop there.

His hands run down your exposed thighs, feeling their way to your inner thighs till he reaches your now clothed pussy. He slides the lace under wear to one side and starts swiping at your wet folds. He groans at the feeling of it.

All of this was different now. He didn’t need to use his evol to hold you in place. Every part of you was accepting of him and he was getting drunk off it.

He releases your swollen lips and starts kissing down your jaw and neck, you tilt your head back to give him as much of your neck to explore. All the while his long fingers explore your hot, dripping cunt.

You didn’t care you were in the middle of a restaurant, that the staff could see you through the kitchen. That there were windows putting your lewd acts on display to anyone who may pass by.

You both needed this, to feel each other, to make each other feel so good. To relieve that angry tension that’s been building since before you left the compound.

You needed to release it all right here, right now.

“Ngh..Sylus..” you moan as you feel him insert two fingers inside you.

He’s kissing and biting your shoulder breath shuddering as he takes in the feeling of your gummy walls around his fingers. How they’re so wet and hot and clenching around him. He starts a rhythm of sliding his fingers in and out. Noticing how your legs start spreading further apart to take more of him in.

He starts kissing back up your neck and finds your mouth again, loving the way your soft lips feel against his.

“Are..you gonna start…listening to me?” He says almost breathlessly.

A moan escapes as you feel his finger curl up, hitting that lovely sensitive spot that sends waves of pleasure through you.

“..No..” you moan. His other hands snakes up your back, your neck. He weaves his fingers through your hair and grabs a fistful but he doesn’t hurt you this time.

“So fucking stubborn.”

As he repeatedly starts rubbing that sensitive spot inside you his thumb finds your clit and starts massaging it.

Your moans start to echo in the restaurant.

“Ah! Mm yes!” The pleasure completely overwhelms you and an orgasm hits you hard and fast, you try and squeeze your thighs together as you try and ride your orgasm out on his fingers.

“Fuck..” he whispers.

He pulls his fingers out, as much as he wants to savour that moment he’s desperate to feel your soaking wet walls around his cock. He unbuckles his pants and unzips them as fast he can. Pulling them down just enough to get his massive hard cock free from restraint.

“Spread your legs for me.” He demands, and you do it. Still blissed out from your orgasm.

He grabs your hips and pulls you closer to the edge of the table. The tip of his cock already leaking with precum. He smears it between your now dripping folds and starts pressing himself into you.

He slides in so easily, so soft, warm, welcoming and so fucking wet for him.

Your hands now on his chest gripping his shirt for dear life, moaning sweet delicious sounds as he enters you. You wrap your legs just above his hips to give him as much access to you as possible.

Sylus doesn’t hold back, pistoning his cock in you. The sounds of your moans spurring him on to go faster and harder. The table rumbling underneath you. Threatening to break.

“Are you going to behave?” His voice low and grumbly.

“N.No!” You’re struggling to speak with how good it feels to have him slamming inside you. Your knuckles turning white with how hard you’re gripping his shirt.

“Fuck.” The hot anger seeping through only adds to the burning flames of desire. He wants more. One hand hand stays on your hip while the other fondles your breast through the dress. Squeezing and massaging.

You can’t help but throw your head back, so lost in pleasure but Sylus grabs your chin and brings you back.

“Look at me. I wanna see your face as you cum again for me.”

And you do. Making heavy eye contact as your face contorts with pleasure.

He finds that spot again with his cock and starts thrusting faster into you, hitting that spot to make you come undone.

“I..mmhngg..hate… you..ah!”

He moans as he feels your walls tighten around him.

“I…know..!”

He captures your lips once more as you both orgasm at the same time. Riding out every ounce of pleasure together. Ecstasy replacing every other emotion.

Your sweaty foreheads are pressed together as you collectively try to catch your breath.

You’re still joined at the hips, feeling his cock throbbing inside you, his cum seeping out. Your hands still gripping his shirt. Both of you not wanting to let go of each other.

He does pull his cock out eventually and as he goes to readjust your underwear he swipes a finger in your cunt one more time, collecting your combined juices on his finger.

He then brings that finger up to your mouth. He doesn’t need to say anything, you know what he wants you to do and you do it.

You take his finger and start licking and sucking on it. Tasting the both of you. He looks at you hungrily and kisses you as he pulls his hand away. Wanting to taste the both of you as well.

His tongue aggressively attacking yours, trying to get as much of the flavours as possible. When he pulls away a string of saliva connects both of your lips.

Again you’re just staring at each other, breathing heavily.

“I take it you’re not ordering dessert then?” A waiter from the kitchen chimes in.

~

The car ride home was silent once again. This time with a completely different energy. You’re staring out the window as you mull over what had just happened inside that restaurant. You expected Sylus to call you ugly, pathetic or disgusting but he didn’t. He didn’t say anything. He just helped you off the table and escorted you back to his car.

Where he still continues to stay silent. One hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the centre console, eyes straight ahead focused on the road. His hair was still dishevelled and the top of his shirt also looking a bit stretched around the buttons. Most likely from your death grip you had on him.

You squirm a bit uncomfortably as you feel Sylus’ sticky cum drenching your underwear. A constant reminder.

“Keep squirming like that and I’m gonna have to pull this car over.” He finally speaks his voice low, gravelly and somewhat sparked with arousal.

You look at him, his eyes are still on the road but you can see he’s clenching the steering wheel.

You scoff and look away. Honestly you’re too tired for his antics. As you’re looking out the window you feel your eyes getting heavy, you can’t fight the exhaustion taking hold of you and you drift off to sleep.

Sylus makes sure to keep the car steady and avoids all the potholes so he doesn’t wake you. He glances over your sleeping form. You finally looked peaceful while sleeping.

Once he gets back to his home, he carefully gets you out of the car without waking you. Now you’re in his arms, bridal style and he carries you all the way to his bedroom. He hates how frail you feel in his arms, like you’re wasting away and he can’t help but blame himself. After all, he kept you cuffed to your bed for three whole days with no food or water while he was doing his initial investigations.

And now when he wants to take care of you, your refusal feels like a punishment.

He gently lays you on the bed. His fingers softly caress your cheek. In truth you were never ugly or disgusting to him. He just lashed out because you make him feel things he’s never felt before. And he wanted to hurt you, to punish you for it.

Sylus makes his way to the kitchen and grabs an apple and an orange. Something simple, something sweet and he hopes that when you wake you’ll finally put aside your stubbornness and eat.

He leaves the fruit on the desk in his room before he goes to the study to talk with Luke and Kieran about what to do next and how to get you back home.

But do we really want to go home y/n?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[jerzwriter]

I was inspired by this OTP Question from @kyra75 : How would they react to someone flirting with them? Flirting with their significant other. Kyra asked for all four of my pairings, and I decided I'd write a little fic for each one. Tobias x Casey's can be found here. If inspiration hits, I'll write one for Trystan x Carolina (CoP) and Eli x Zoe (WTD), too. Thanks so much for the inspiration, Kyra!

Book: Open Heart (Book 3 Timeline) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Kaycee MacClennan (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 2,005 Summary: Ethan and Kaycee are on their way to the first conference they're attending together since making their relationship public. But it seems that everyone didn't receive the memo. Fortunately, they don't get jealous.

A/N: Participating in @choicesprompts Flufftober #7 - Acceptance.

The sun was just starting to peek through the Boston sky when Ethan and Kaycee emerged from the lobby of their apartment building, causing the befuddled doorman to do a double-take as Ethan nodded his way. Seeing him up at this ungodly hour (for a morning jog... of all things) was commonplace, but a Kaycee spotting this early in the day was almost unheard of. Still, she was all but glowing as she hopped into their waiting cab.  

Once nestled in the back seat, she leaned over and planted a kiss on her boyfriend’s cheek. “Finally! We're attending a conference where we don’t have to pretend we're not together anymore!"

Ethan smiled, but there was a hint of judgment in it. “Why is that so important? It’s not as if we intend to put on a soft porn performance in the reception area?”

“Which is really a pity,” Kaycee laughed. “I’m sure some of the old fuddy-duddies in attendance could use a pointer or two. It would be a public service, really."

This time, he smiled genuinely, pulling her under his arm with a chuckle. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

“Oh, I have some ideas,” she teased. “But seriously! Aren't you excited? We can hold hands, acknowledge each other, and we don’t have to pretend we’re unbothered when others flirt with us.”

“Well, that was never an issue," Ethan insisted. "I don’t get jealous. Jealousy is for people with trust issues, and I trust you.”

Kaycee raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smile. “And you should trust me, but, babe, you do get jealous sometimes."

“No," he insisted. " I don’t."

“All right,” she smiled with amusement. She didn’t push further, but in her mind, it was game on.

Santa Monica was beautiful at this time of year, and their resort was already bustling when they arrived, filled with tourists and conventioneers alike. Doctors from all over America were milling about, networking over cocktails and hors d’oeuvres. It was an atmosphere that Kaycee thrived in, but Ethan did his very best to avoid. But one thing was certain: the atmosphere was ripe for flirtation, and Kaycee was already thinking of the long game.

She was the first to experience it, only moments after they arrived. As they headed toward the registration table, a tall, handsome surgeon from New York spotted Kaycee and all but jogged over to greet her. His hazel eyes were alight as he neared her. “Dr. MacClennan, correct?” he grinned with a bit too much confident charm. “We met at the cardiothoracic symposium in Chicago last year, and I’ve been looking forward to running into you again ever since.”

Kaycee politely returned his smile but stepped closer to Ethan, trying to give the suave surgeon an easy way out.

“That’s so kind of you to say,” she replied. “And you are?”

“Dr. Barrington from NYU-Langone,” he smiled, so taken in with Kaycee he never even saw Ethan standing by her side. “I was wondering if you’re free tonight. My hospital is hosting a private dinner, and most of the convention’s keynote speakers will be there. I’d love for you to join me if you can.”

Kaycee opened her mouth to reply, but before she could get a word out, Ethan spoke calm, but direct. “We have plans,” was all he said, but Kaycee swore his tone brought the temperature in the crowded room down ten degrees.

Suddenly aware of Ethan, the surgeon blinked. “Oh. Well, I see.” He turned to Kaycee, undeterred; there may have even been a wink. “Well, next time?”

Ethan cursed under his breath as Dr. Barrington walked away, and Kaycee stifled a laugh. “But you don’t get jealous, right, hon?”

“I’m not jealous,” he shot back. “I was just doing my part to save you from an extremely boring dinner when you have much better plans with me.”

“Oh, that's what that was,” she grinned, straightening the collar of Ethan’s linen shirt. “And what do those plans involve?”

He dropped his lips to her ear, whispering in a way that made Kaycee forget all about this little game. “It involves you, me, a bottle of champagne, our bed, and very little clothing.”

“You’re right,” she giggled, looping her arm in his. “Your plans sound much more appealing.”

Throughout the conference, there were many more flirtatious encounters, each more entertaining than the last. At one of the panel sessions, a beautiful conference organizer set her sights on Ethan. A statuesque woman with long, dark hair and dazzling blue eyes moved to Ethan’s side. The compliments she bestowed on him were flowing faster than the wine, and she leaned in just a little too close.

“Dr. Ramsey,” she beamed. “I’m Dr. Monica Rivera. I’ve been dying to meet you in person.”

“Have you,” he replied. “Then I hope you won’t be disappointed.”

“Doubtful,” she simpered, eyeing him from head to toe. “I’ve always found your research to be so inspiring,” she said, brushing her hand against his arm. “I’d love to discuss some thoughts I have with you. Perhaps over a drink later?”  

Ethan, who was entirely focused on his presentation, didn’t have the time for this. “I don’t drink,” he stated flatly.

Dr. Rivera’s face faltered, but she recovered quickly. “Well, then, over coffee?”

Ethan glanced at her, annoyance etched on his face. “I don’t drink coffee either.”

Kaycee, who had been observing the exchange from a few feet away, bit back a laugh as the woman walked away, clearly confused and discouraged. Ethan, focused as ever, was already looking over his notes when Kaycee appeared at his side.

“You don’t drink alcohol or coffee?” She laughed. “Are you about to tell me you aren't really a doctor? You don't like opera? Because that’s all that’s left of your identity, sir!”

He turned to her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Were you jealous, my dear?”

“What?" She laughed. "Not at all. Entertained? Yes. Amused? Without question. But jealous, nah. She’s got nothing on me.”

Ethan leaned over, the scent of Kaycee’s perfume intoxicating as he surreptitiously placed a kiss on her cheek. “Now, that’s the truth.”

As dusk began to fall, they met up at a cocktail hour by the pool. They had spent the majority of the day attending separate workshops, and Kaycee was looking forward to catching up with Ethan. But before they could enjoy a drink together, another attendee, this time a young doctor from Johns Hopkins, slid up next to her.

“You must be Kaycee MacClennan,” he said, flashing a bright smile. “You’re even more beautiful than I heard.”

Kaycee raised an eyebrow. “It's Doctor Kaycee MacClennan,” she retorted. “And, really? That’s what you heard? We’re at a medical conference with our peers, and that’s what you’ve heard about me?”

“Well, among other things,” he replied smoothly, his eyes lingering on her. “I also hear you’ve been doing some groundbreaking work at Edenbrook. Perhaps you could fill me in over dinner. What do you say?”

Kaycee crossed her arms, amazed the man couldn’t see how annoyed she was. “Well,” she began when she felt a strong arm encircle her waist.

“We’re not available for dinner,” Ethan declared, his steel blue eyes daring the charlatan to say another word.

The young doctor blinked, clearly thrown. “Oh, uh, I didn’t realize—”

“Well, now you do,” Ethan said dismissively as the doctor scurried away.

Kaycee couldn’t help but chuckle as they walked away. “Thanks for the save, babe. But I had it under control.”

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Ethan replied.

“But you had to step in,” she grinned. “Because you might have been a little jealous?”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “He was wasting your time, and I wanted to be with you."

“Right,” she teased, nudging him playfully. “Jealousy had nothing to do with it.”

The day continued the same way, with Ethan maintaining a stoic front as others flirted relentlessly with Kaycee, and she quietly relished watching him jump in every single time. She couldn’t wait to tease him about it later, but that would have to wait until after the final reception – where everything was about to change.

Dr. Allison Porter was the star of the conference, the main keynote speaker, and a world-renowned cardiologist with a smile that could light up a room. She was holding court tonight, and everyone wanted her attention, but she was only interested in one doctor from Boston. When she spotted him alone at the bar, she knew it was time to make her move.

“Dr. Ramsey, I presume,” she grinned, extending a well-manicured hand as she approached.

“Dr. Porter,” he nodded politely while shaking her hand. “It’s lovely to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, I’m sure. And please, call me Allison." Her eyes twinkled as she assessed Ethan, though he didn't seem to notice. “I’ve been watching you from afar for some time now. The work you’ve done at Edenbrook is truly awe-inspiring.”

“Well,” Ethan laughed softly. “I’m very proud of the work we've achieved, but awe-inspiring may be a bit of hyperbole.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Dr. Ramsey. You should hear how others speak of you at the conference.”

“Really?” he smirked, raising his glass of Scotch to his lips. “I’m usually better off not knowing what my colleagues are saying about me when I’m not in earshot.”

Allison tossed her head back, laughing much too enthusiastically, and that caught Kaycee’s attention from across the room. Amused, she grabbed a flute of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and shifted positions so she could get a better view of the show taking place. She wondered how long it would take for Ethan to become flustered or have that familiar scowl take over his face. But as she continued to watch, it never occurred. Instead, he seemed taken in by the conversation, which was fine... until Dr. Porter placed her hand on Ethan’s arm.

“Excuse me,” Kaycee said with a plastered smile as she turned on her heel and made her way across the crowded room. Allison’s voice was lithe, almost sultry, as Kaycee approached from behind.

“Ethan, I think you and I should definitely...collaborate... sometime. I have no doubt that we could...accomplish great things together.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Kaycee announced as she took her place at Ethan's side. “I’ve been looking for you! I should have known to check the bar first!”

“Yes,” he replied. “I’m surprised that wasn’t your first thought. Kaycee, this is Dr. Allison Porter, Dr. Porter, my teammate and partner, Dr. Kaycee MacClennan.”

“Oh,” Dr. Porter said, attempting to hide her surprise. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’ve read your work as well, Dr. MacClennan...  didn’t realize that you two were...”

“Yes, we are,” Kaycee beamed confidently. “Very happily so.”

Allison’s eyes narrowed slightly before she took her leave, and Kaycee turned to Ethan with a sarcastic smirk. “Collaboration, huh?” She said, taking a sip of Ethan’s drink. “Collaboration, my ass. She wanted... something else.”

Ethan cleared his throat, obviously amused. “Are we... what’s the word... jealous, Dr. MacClennan?”

“What? Me?” Kaycee replied. “Absolutely not! I don’t get jealous. I trust you!”

“OK,” Ethan smiled softly. “Whatever you say.” He moved in closer. “Why don’t we get some fresh air? I'd like to get away from all these people lusting after us.”

"Hmm. We do have that effect on people, don't we?" She smiled. "But you can be honest. You just want to get me alone. Don't you?"

"Always," he growled in her ear.

They left and walked along the beach hand-in-hand, their footsteps mingling with the sound of waves crashing against the shore. As they recounted the day’s events, Kaycee nudged Ethan with her shoulder.

“Admit it,” she said, smiling. “You got jealous. More than once."

He glanced at her, his face still stoic but his eyes warm. “Jealousy is beneath me. But you, you may have turned a slight shade of green when you saw Dr. Porter speaking to me. But don't worry, I think it’s kind of cute.”

"What! I was not jealous!" Kaycee insisted, contemplating kicking sand at him if it wouldn't have made her look like a child. "I was not jealous at all!"

Ethan gave her a long look, and finally, a ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Kaycee's mouth. “All right. Maybe... a little," she grinned. "But admit it, you got a little jealous today, too."

"Fine," he surrendered. "I did."

Kaycee grinned, slipping her hand into his. “Thought so.”

Kaycee shook her head as they continued to walk. "What is it about these things? The minute the lectures are over, it's like someone pumps an aphrodisiac into the air."

Ethan laughed but agreed with her assessment. "I never understood it," he said. "These are professional events. People should act... professionally. I would never lower myself to behaving that way."

Kaycee's eyes flicked to his, the moonlight showing the shadows of her smile. "Seriously? Do you remember Miami? I was there, you know."

"That's different," he insisted. "That was... you."

"Mmm-hmm. But you had been with me in Boston plenty of times, but it took Miami for you to finally come to - then quickly take loss of - your senses."

Ethan stopped in his tracks, his hands finding Kaycee's waist and pulling her near. He kissed her so passionately, so intensely, that she forgot what she was saying - which may have been the very point. He pulled away with a playful grin.

"Enough of this. What do you say we head back to our room and remind ourselves why no one else here stood a chance?"

"Sounds good to me," she said, jumping into his arms. "And Ethan?"

"Yes?"

"I really wasn't jealous."

"All right, Kaycee," he winked. "Whatever you say."

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[tojisbbygworl]

My Wife is a Stoner and a Bitch and it’s Driving Me Crazy - Toji Fushiguro x Black!Reader ~ FFL Series

Summary: Megumi is finally out of the house which means it’s time to spark up. Toji - 33, You - 30, Megumi - 12

Characters: Toji, Megumi, Yuuji, Sukuna, Gojo

Words: 6,215

Tags: 18+, 2nd person, Fluff, Established Relationship, Marijuana, AU-No Curses, SMUTTTT, Car sex, High Sex, Cunnilingus, Toji is Whipped, DILF, Toji is a Good Dad, Soft Toji

Disclaimer: This work is part of a Black!Reader x Toji series I started called Fushiguro Family Life. It's basically a slice of life series with you, Toji and Megumi. None of them are in order and can be read on their own unless stated otherwise.

AO3 Version

My AO3

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

author’s note: So basically the great AO3 DDOS attack of 2023 sent me into a panic and now I’m considering cross posting all my stories. I mayyyy post my other darker Toji stories here but I’m not sure. Probably not.

This is inspired by a reddit post I saw a while ago and couldn’t find again with a similar title. This work is the 1st part of a Drabble series called Fushiguro Family Life (great name Ik shut up). All the stories are cute, fluffy, and/or smutty and will be mostly one shots. A couple may have two chapters. Okay I’m done talking now. Enjoy!!!🩵

Toji was very excited to get back home tonight.

He had just dropped off Megumi at his best friend Itadori Yuuji's house. The kid's birthday was tomorrow and he practically begged Megumi to come to his sleepover. Megumi was a quiet and introverted kid who liked being alone. It's hard to get him out of his shell which makes Toji wonder how the hell those two even became friends in the first place. When Toji overheard Yuuji pleading for Megumi to spend the night while they were playing in his room, he knew he had to get Megumi to go. He loved the kid but God, Megumi was home way too often. Yes, he was only 12, but he had ample opportunity to leave the house. Megumi never joins his friends in walking to the DQ by their middle school after school lets out for the day. He never wants to carpool with Yuuji and Nobara to the nearby high school's games where Yuuji's older brother Sukuna is the football captain. He doesn't go to the fair when it's in town, or Six Flags on the weekends. He would much rather stay at home and have his friends come over. Which means Toji has to constantly deal with at least 3 little shits fucking up his house. It's a situation that's less than ideal.

Megumi has a habit of asking Toji or his stepmother to say no to the prospect of him going out because he doesn't want to hurt his friends' feelings. Sometimes he would come into their room and hold up his phone while it's on speaker. Usually either Yuuji or Nobara will be asking if he could go somewhere and Megumi would be mouthing 'NO' and shaking his head. Toji would repeat the word aloud and that would be the end of that. Well, not this time.

When Yuuji asked Megumi to come to the sleepover, Toji quickly jumped into action. He hopped, skipped, and jumped over to his room where he pretended to be on his phone waiting for Megumi and Yuuji to come through the door. When they did, he looked up.

"What?"

"Mr. Fushiguro, can Megumi come to my sleepover next week? It's gonna be the day before my birthday." Yuuji asks, slightly melancholy from expecting a firm 'no' like usual. Megumi was standing behind him, his face completely relaxed. By this point, his parents should know how this works. A friend asks if Megumi can do something and they say...

"Sure thing."

Megumi's eyes burst wide open while his friend jumps for joy. Yuuji immediately turns around and hugs his best friend who is still frozen in shock and staring bug-eyed at his father. Toji is grinning cheekily. Yuuji starts to guide them away from his room and Megumi takes two of his fingers, points them at his eyes then points them right back at Toji. The door shuts.

Toji immediately texted you, his lovely wife, about the great news.

babe guess what

Wifey

what

i hope u ready to have the house to ourselves next week

Wifey

???

sir what are u talking abt

the little shit is finally out of the house dammit

Wifey

!!!

say on god

on my mom

Wifey

u dont even fuck wit her

i dont fuck with no one but u baby

Wifey

...what abt ur son

what abt him?

Now why are you and Toji celebrating the absence of your amazing son? Well to put it simply, to get high as a fucking kite. You two have never really gotten a good opportunity to do so since you started dating so many years ago and Toji even longer before that. Having a kid put a hold on indulging vices. Not that Toji or you minded, Megumi is a wonderful kid. But before having and gaining custody of Megumi when he was 3, he had always anticipated the days he could sit down and light a blunt again.

The last time you and him had smoked frequently was when you two had started dating. Toji was very fond of you so he strived to see you all the time. His baby mother was willing to watch Megumi while he went on dates with you despite how often they were. And he attempted to impress you with his smoking skills. Unfortunately, it had been a long time since the last time he smoked and on the 4th date he ran out of weed and backwoods. Imagine his surprise when he pulled up to your house and you pulled out an airtight jar that was packed full.

"What-what the hell is that?" He exclaimed.

You looked at him with a concerned face, wondering what had gotten him so shook. "Huh? It's Bubba Kush." Toji had never even heard that strain before.

He proceeded to watch you roll the most beautiful blunt he had ever seen in his entire life. You took two large hits and handed it to him. All he could do was look at you. You thought he was cute, but he was taking too long to take it from you. You scrunched up your face and shook your hand. "Take the shit before it goes out, stupid!"

He was smitten.

When he asked you to move in is when the smoking sessions came to an abrupt stop. Something that you completely understood. Megumi was 6 at the time. He was still a pretty young kid so you or Toji always had to be around. And you were. And you both raised a great kid together. And when he finally reached the age of 11, you both thought he would be leaving the house much more frequently like other kids his age were doing. This is when they start going home on the bus together and hanging out at arcades or small restaurants. How could you have known that Megumi would grow an attachment to his parents and never want to leave the house? How would you know that he enjoyed spending time with his dad and stepmom? What preteen likes hanging out with his parents?

Now as it stands, it had been pretty much 8 months since the last time you and Toji smoked and he was tired of it. He prides himself on successfully hiding weed from his son, but if the only thing holding him back was because his son never fucking left the house, then something had to change. This would be the start of many 'yeses' to come.

The day came and you were coming home from work when Toji dropped Megumi off at Yuuji's. Megumi had let his displeasure with the situation be known all week and he was still irritated while Toji drove.

"You know I like being at home."

"Yeah. You're a damn hermit and the shit is weird."

"You're weird."

"I'm not the one who likes hanging out with his parents."

"That's only because grandma and grandpa suck. Your whole family sucks. Mom and Y/N's families are cool."

"What, so you're saying I'm cool? Is that why you like hanging out with me?"

"So you want me to think you're lame?"

How could Toji answer that truthfully without explaining why? "No, I just want you to hang out with your friends. They really like you. Even if you are a loser."

"You're the loser!"

This bickering continued until Toji finally pulled up to the Itadori household. He almost had to force Megumi out of the car and practically pulled him to the front door where he rang the bell. Itadori Sukuna answered and Toji scowled down at him. He didn't like the 17 year-old asshole.

Sukuna looked down at Megumi and grinned. "Hey, my little brother's emo friend arrived. He won't shut up about how your dad finally let you out of the house for once. What changed, Mr. Fushiguro? Huh?" He raised his brow while his smile grew. Toji's face remained stoic although he was starting to get ticked. He tapped his finger against his thigh.

"Just let the kid inside. I don't have time for your nonsense." Sukuna obliged and moved to the side so Megumi could enter the house. The kid turned and waved at his dad before getting jumped by Yuuji and Nobara.

Toji would have chuckled at the scene if it wasn't for Sukuna straining his neck to look past him. Toji realized he was trying to look into his car. "What, do you want a kiss or some shit?" He teased. He raised a bag that had Yuuji's present and put it to his chest. "Here if that's what you're looking for."

Sukuna's face didn't falter. "Y/N couldn't deliver it herself? That's a shame. It's always nice to see her."

Toji scowled. He doesn't know when, but you had become the designated gift giver at some point over the years. Every gift from the Fushiguro household was from you. You made it or bought it with your own money and always delivered it yourself. Toji hated it for this exact reason. He knew this little shit Sukuna had a crush on you. And you just thought it was the most adorable thing in the world as if he wasn't almost a grown man. You would never go for him so it was hilarious, but Sukuna didn't see it that way. He genuinely believes he has a chance of taking you away from Toji and it fuels his already massive ego.

"No. She told me she's tired of you always trying to flirt with her, so I'm gonna be the delivery boy from now on. So get used to it." He lied. Sukuna called his bluff and laughed heartily.

"Yeah alright. Just tell her I missed her today and that I can't wait to see her at the championship game. I'm assuming she's finally taken that stick out of your ass so you can let Megumi go to my games now."

"I'm not gonna tell her shit. You stay the hell away from my wife, delinquent." Toji spat at him through gritted teeth. He turned and walked away before he could respond, but of course, the teenager just laughed and shut the door. Toji was still fuming when he got back in the car, but then he remembered what awaits him at home and he relaxed.

im omw babe

Wifey

okay bby. i just got home

hungry?

Wifey

always

let's go get sum to eat

Wifey

what we getting

idk

Wifey

well figure it out

maybe

You don't respond, most likely trying to figure out what you want to eat. You still hadn't decided on what to eat when Toji pulled back up to the house. You came outside and got in the car. You got out of your work clothes and put on something comfy and casual. You had on a white graphic tee that you cut into a crop top and black cotton shorts. Your gold anklet accentuated your pink crocs and your bleached locs were in a high ponytail. All you brought was your phone and house keys. Toji sped back off when you entered and didn't give you time to adjust causing you to lose your balance and fall back against the door.

"Um, excuse you?" You exclaimed. Toji put his hand on your thigh.

"Sorry babe. I didn't mean to." he said while trying to hold back his laughter. You glared at him.

"Stop laughing." He let out a snort.

"I wasn't laughing at you, baby."

"You just did, liar." You finally put on your seatbelt and sat back. Toji's hand still didn't leave your leg while he drove to your designated smoking spot. As much as you two would love to smoke at home, you didn't want your house to reek and the neighbors were nosy assholes.

You put on your favorite music during the drive. Toji loved listening to your playlist. You always managed to surprise him with the raunchiest and most explicit songs you could possibly think to put on. Every time he thinks he’s heard them all, you have a new one to show him, such as the one that was playing now.

Boy this pussy talk,

English, Spanish, and French

Boy this pussy talk,

Euros, Dollars, and Yens

He kind of recognized the voice. This was that group you really like called City Girls. You’ve played their songs a couple times before. He might have to add this one to his playlist, though. They’re really riding the beat.

You lift your head up when Toji stops the car. He rolls the front windows down a bit and turns it off. You reach into the glove box to get all the materials, the grinder, the papers, the rolling tray and, of course, the weed itself. Toji watches you intently as you work your magic.

He doesn’t just stare at your hands as it breaks the buds apart and stuff them into the grinder, he also looks at your face, your hair, your jewelry, and your body. You were such a beautiful woman.

”You could really be unwrapping the woods and dumping out the tobacco but you wanna sit there and look at me like you stupid.”

And you were such a bitch. Not that he was complaining.

~

When you and Toji met, it was his day off and he wanted to spend it working out. Most people don't really choose to spend the day at work, Toji didn't really have a choice in this case. Plus, he owned the place, so he could really do whatever he wanted.

You walked into the gym just as he was finishing his last set. He was all sweaty and gross and you looked really cute with your locs in pigtails. You had on a matching gray set that he's seen on a number of girls. It never looked this good on any of them, though. He prides himself on not being a creep, but he stole plenty of glances at you when you were checking in. Your butt looked really, really good. It was when you had walked into the women's locker room when he realized he hadn't taken his eyes off of it. He blinked, then looked to his left to see Gojo Satoru smirking at him.

"You're such a weirdo." He joked.

"Fuck off." Toji had the smallest blush on his face and he grimaced in embarrassment. He really hadn't meant to be checking you out, but he couldn't help it. You were pretty.

It took you only a couple of minutes to come out of the locker room with nothing but a water bottle and Airpods. Toji wasn't paying attention as he had refocused on finishing his workout, but you caught his eye again when he turned around to leave. You were punching in settings on the treadmill.

Toji paused with his towel and water in his hand and deliberated what his next moves should be. He was tired, wet, and smelled gross. He had been here since he dropped Megumi off at daycare and he wanted to spend some time relaxing at home before he had to get the little menace. But then you started speed walking and your boobs were bouncing so nicely that he just had to get on the treadmill next to you.

Toji is no better than every other man.

He successfully ignored the look that Gojo had thrown at him before unsuccessfully pulling off a casual walk over to where you were. Toji purposefully walks into your line of sight, sweating inwardly knowing that he caught your eye. You look away when he gets on the treadmill right next to yours. He gives you a nod and a smile expecting a small one back. Instead, the aloof look on your face remains and you look him up and down. Then you go right back to speed walking.

He blinked. Okay, he wasn’t expecting that. Maybe he was coming on too strong by choosing the treadmill next to you. It’s too late now. He punches in the same stats on your treadmill and starts walking as well. He’s taking glances at you but you don’t look over to him even once. Or maybe you’re looking when he’s not looking. From how annoyed your face is, he doubts it.

After a couple minutes, you increase your speed to a jog. Toji decides to play a little game for your attention, and does the same, ending on the exact same speed you’re on. He can’t tell if you notice, but it doesn’t matter to him one bit. He could do this for ages.

Every time you increase your speed, he does the same, and Toji knows he’s gotten you when you increase it significantly and you’re full on running. He’s impressed that you’ve gone this long, but he’s gone longer. He follows suit, as expected. And that's when you give him a glare. And it only gets more sinister when you see the cheeky grin on his face. You turn up the setting to the point where you’re full on sprinting. Toji, and some onlookers, has never seen a woman more determined to outperform a man in his life. And he’s had his fair share of lovers. And despite the deeply confused and slightly frightened look on his face, he's having a lot of fun.

And your reaction to him keeping up with your very impressive speed was worth the strain on his body. You press the stop button on the machine slowing you down to the perfect yet quick stop. You stare at him with your hands on your hips. He smiles and does the same. You’re both staring each other down.

“Yes ma’am?” he grins.

“You think you’re cute?” You say, panting heavily.

“No. I think you’re cute.” He responds, smoothly. You jerk your head back and blink.

“Hmph. Well I don’t.”

“How could you not think you’re cute?”

You roll your eyes. “You know what the fuck I meant.” You grab your water and start to walk away. Toji, even though he doesn’t want to look desperate, follows you. You head to the paper towel dispenser and begin to wipe away your sweat, Toji standing behind you ready with the excuse that he needed the paper towels too. You were very frustrated, so you were punching the dispense switch very aggressively.

Toji couldn’t help himself. “I thought I was the one who pissed you off. Don’t take it out on my dispensers. I’ll have to replace them.”

You paused for a second, then turned to look at him. “...You own this gym?” He nods. “Oh hell no. This is the last time you’ll see me here.”

Toji grabs his heart. “You’re breaking my heart, miss…?” He lets the sentence linger so you can finish it for him.

But instead you almost look offended. You really are cute. “I’m not giving you my name!”

He grabs his heart with his other hand and pretends to stumble back. “Agh! You’re breaking it even more.” He leans his hand on the wall and holds himself up, then looks at you smiling. He managed to catch the end of a slight laugh that escaped you. You cover your mouth, but it’s too late. Toji knows he’ll see you again.

And he does the week after while sitting at the receptionist desk filling out some paperwork. Just when he was starting to think you weren’t joking, you walk right in with your Airpods and duffel bag wearing a different matching set, but it looks just as good on you. He puts on a huge grin and watches your face fall as you walk up to him.

“Good morning, are you sign-”

“Getting on the treadmill again today, sweetheart?” He rudely interrupts his employee, who just rolls her eyes and goes to the back room to get on her phone.

“I don’t know who the hell ‘sweetheart’ is, but I’m not her." Ah. And you brought your attitude with you as well. More fun for him.

“Me neither. Maybe if I knew her name, I wouldn’t have to call her that.” He smiles widely.

“Well I hope you figure it out one day.”

“Oh, I’m about to right now.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“She has to give me her name to sign her in. That’s how.” He got you looking stuck and somewhat embarrassed. And that fuck ass smile has not left his face.

“Oh, shut the fuck up…” Your eyes shift downwards slightly and you meet his gaze again. “Toji.” You tell him your name afterwards and he signs you into the computer.

“Have a good workout…sweetheart.” He immediately lets out a boisterous laughter seeing the daggers your eyes are shooting at him and he makes it his life mission to annoy you until you say yes to a date and annoy everyday afterwards.

~

And he has. So, how can he complain about his wife being a bitch when he chose you because of it?

He does what you request, and hands you the leaf so you can finish rolling. Watching you bring it to your lips and start to slick the wood down with your tongue was always a spectacle. Not just because it look cool, but because he never failed to joke about it. “Why can’t you do that to my wood?”

You rolled your eyes. “Not this shit again.” The both of you stared at the flame from your lighter while you used it to seal the leaf. “Are you always gonna make that joke?”

Toji grinned stupidly. “Yes.” You tried, but failed to hold your laughter.

”I hate you, babe,” you giggled. Toji laughed with you and the both of you proceeded to get super duper high.

You guys were halfway through it and you were in the midst of discussing the new drama in your girlfriend group chat when he interrupted you. “Hey. Hey. Hey-“

”What? You see I’m not done talking.”

Toji pauses and just stares at you, making you even more irritated. “Man, what?”

”Let’s have sex.”

You looked at him like he was crazy then shifted your gaze to his crotch. There, in all of its glory, was a tent in his pants. Typical. He always does this. He becomes very talkative when he’s high, so whenever he goes quiet, you knew something was up.

Toji was staring you down ever since he took the first hit. He looked at your breasts and smirked upon seeing your nipples poking through your shirt. He saw how smooth your neck looked and thought abt how nice it feels to sink his teeth into it. The sounds you make are absolutely gorgeous.

Then he stared at your hair. It was so soft and pretty. The blonde was extremely cute, but he liked them the most when they were ginger. He thinks the color is called Cajun Spice or something like that. It matched well with your skin tone.

At some point while you were talking he put his hands on your thigh and started stroking it with his thumb. You didn’t notice, you subconsciously put your hand on top of his grabbing his fingers. The action filled his heart with warmth, smiling at you while relaxing his head on the seat. Just listening to you talk.

Okay, maybe he wasn’t listening. He was imagining how loud you would be if he opened up your door and bent you over the passenger seat. Hm, that sounds like a really good idea.

You look back into his eyes after seeing how hard his dick had gotten and you couldn’t help but smirk. You were clearly trying to keep your smile down, but it wasn’t working. “So you’re not hungry?”

”I am. For something else.”

“…You’ve charmed me,” you say, making Toji laugh.

”Oh, I have?” He takes off his seat belt.

”Yeah, you have.” You say, following suit.

”Then come here.” Toji grabs you as soon as your seatbelt snaps back, pulling you over the center console to kiss you passionately. It’s kind of uncomfortable for you, you have to kneel onto the seats from the way he pulled you over. You would have said something about it, but you were already so wet and he was grabbing you so tightly that the thought left your head.

Toji was moaning in your mouth so much you could feel it vibrate through your body. You could tell he was really getting into it from the way he shifted himself forward to grab your ass and thigh. He decides that he’s had enough. He needs you now. “Take off your shorts.” He opens up his door to come to your side of the car. You can feel yourself becoming giddy while slipping off your bottoms and shoes.

When Toji opens up your door, he sees you in all of your glory. You were bare from the waist down. Your legs are so shapely and smooth, they look beautiful in the moonlight. So were your perfect thighs that he desperately wanted to grasp and never let go. Your glistening cunt tied the whole thing together. He could only imagine how soaked your panties must have been.

But the best sight was the bright and excited smile that stretched across your lovely face. He was falling in love all over again.

”You look happy,” he teased, kneeling onto the hard ground.

“Speak for yourself.” Toji’s smile was just as wide as yours. He made it very clear that he absolutely adored eating you out. He once described it as his favorite pastime. And he was fucking good at it.

Toji took sometime to rub your legs, leaving kisses leading up to your hot center. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. He savored every single smooch as if it was the last time he would get the chance to kiss you.

He spread your legs the closer he got. The fucker slowed down as well, leaving you to whimper pathetically. He smirked and chuckled at you. You had a mouth on you yet when he made you wet you were like puddy in his hands. He gave you a small, but firm bite, his dick twitching when he hears you hiss.

When Toji finally tasted your sweet center, he moaned. He gave it a small kiss, then tenderly licked it, spreading your lips slightly with his tongue. He looked up at you and saw your head fall backwards along with your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your mouth refused to close, a sound of satisfied pleasure leaving from it. You were so beautiful.

Toji encloses his mouth around your pussy in an extremely sloppy kiss. His mouth is covered in slick and he finds that he likes it so much that he continues making it sloppier by the second. The little squeaks that you’re making in your throat are really cute, but he wants more. He takes his thumb and begins to rub your clit up and down, making sure to get your wetness all over it. It was effective in making you even louder.

”Oh, shit.” You whine. Toji removes his hand just to replace it with his tongue. “Fuck, baby.” You get even louder and your hips begin to grinding into his mouth. You grab his hair in an attempt to keep him still even though you love what he’s doing. Toji loves it and he goes even harder. “Mm, Toji it feels so good.”

He removes his mouth to suck on his fingers. After he wets them up, he inserts on of his digits into your wet pussy. It goes in with ease. You feel his thick finger enter you and as much as you love it, you want more.

”Put another one in, baby.” Toji smiles and bites his lips.

”Anything you want.” He yields to your request, inserting a second finger and pumping them. That makes you moan even louder.

”Yeah, just like that.” He doesn’t take his eyes away from yours. Yours are lidded but he can still see the want in them. The longer he looks, the more he wants you. His fingers pump you harder and harder and you get louder and louder, all while staring him in the eyes. The familiar feeling of release builds up in your abdomen. Your breathing picks up.

”Oh, Toji…Toji…”

”Yes baby?” He starts to smile at you. Your cunt starts getting wetter. He knew what was about to happen.

”I’m gonna cum,” Your voice is so breathy it’s beautiful.

”Go ahead and cum on my fingers, baby.” You do exactly that. As much as he loved keeping eye contact with you, watching you throw your head back and curse while feeling your cum drip from your pussy onto his seats was a much better alternative. He couldn’t wait any longer.

Toji removed his fingers from you and held them up to your face. You flick your tongue out before wrapping your mouth around it. You look at him while maneuvering your head back and forth sucking them dry. Toji stares down at you smiling.

”God, you’re a slut.” He tells you. You release his fingers with a pop and nod your head, smiling.

”What am I going to do with you?” He takes his shirt off before pulling down his pants and briefs, his thick and throbbing member slapping back onto his stomach. He looked amazing. His face was glistening with cum. You took your time to stare at him and his body. His muscles and abs were on display for anyone who had the misfortune (or let’s be honest, fortune) to pass by with their headlights on. His pants and underwear pooled at his ankles and you can’t help but think about how nice his butt looks right now. Just sitting out in the wind. You giggle.

”What’s funny?” He asks, tugging on his dick preparing to lean over you.

”Your ass probably looks so good right now.”

”Why you wanna bite it?” He holds himself over you and pushes your legs up. You lick your lips.

“A little bit. It’s not like I haven’t done it before.” Toji smirks then kisses you sweetly. Without even warning you, he pushes himself into your pussy refusing to let up from the kiss when your mouth instinctively opens wide. The feeling of Toji sinking into you is euphoric, and it gets even better when he’s fully inserted inside of you. He sighs. The two of you are connected at the hip and it feels just as good as the first time.

Toji looks down at the two of you. Your stomach is so beautiful when your thighs are pressed against it. Your ankles were laying on his shoulder pushing your abdomen down and making you feel full. He can’t stop looking at it as he slowly begins to pull himself out of you. You start to whine desperately, grabbing at his back to keep him inside of you. But Toji slams himself back into you making you practically scream. He starts a steady pace of fucking you into his seats. You sound delicious grunting into his ear with every thrust.

“You like that, don’t you?” Obviously.

“Oh my fucking God, yes.” You respond looking at him. He’s holding your hip with one hand and brings the other behind your head putting his body weight on your elbow. Toji pulls your head up to his to kiss you once more. You swallow each other’s moans and his thrusts become more intense. You scratch at his back leaving new scars amongst his old ones.

“Does my pussy feel good, Toji?” You whisper into his ear. He groans into yours and you clench your cunt around his dick.

“So fucking good, baby girl.” It’s his turn to sound breathless. It tickles your ear.

“Will you moan for me? Will you say my name?” You ask. He nods and begins to whine. He sounds desperate for your pussy, as if it he would die if he stopped fucking you for even one second.

“Ngh…(Y/N), I fucking love this pussy.” He whimpers. He sounds so hot, you can feel your release coming soon.

“I know you do baby.” You taunt. Toji weakly lifts his hand from your hip and it crawls up your torso between your breasts to grip your neck. You can’t talk and your head remains still. Toji’s breath is hot on your cheek while he turns his head.

“You’re a dirty fucking bitch you know that?” He tells you. Toji thrusts into you one more time and stops. You look at him in desperation while he pulls himself out of you. “Open your mouth.” As soon as you do, he drools onto your tongue then leans down to make out with it. It ends with your tongue being sucked into his mouth.

“Turn around, bitch.” He commands. You twirl around and hike your ass into the air, twerking a little bit while smiling at him. He grins and slaps your cheek hard. Then, Toji lines himself up with your pussy once more, and pushes himself into you from behind.

He can’t even hear how amazing you sound, he’s so focused on how wet you are. He tilts his head back wards and groans. “Oh, shit.” He begins to fuck you from the back, getting even more excited seeing your ass clap on his stomach.

He holds onto your hips as if it’s a lifeline. At some point, you turn to look back at him and you look so fucking slutty it’s not even funny. Toji can’t help himself when he reaches for your hair then yanks your upper body towards him, causing you to arch your back. He reaches over to grab one of your tits knowing that they probably looked amazing bouncing from him fucking the shit out of you.

You’re loud and spewing curses, but so is Toji. He can feel your pussy clenching around him again. “You’re about to cum again, aren’t you?” All you can do is nod too busy screaming his name. “Then cum on my dick, baby. Come on.”

“Okay daddy.” Toji smacked your ass again.

“Fuck, say that again.”

“Okay, daddy.” You say while releasing on his member, leaving a white ring of cream around his base. Toji pushes himself down onto you grabbing his seats and ramming himself into your pussy. You’re already slumped, not even trying to lift your head up and just letting your cheek squish into the chair. Your moans are quick and desperate. Hoping that it never ends. But from the speed at which Toji thrusts inside of you, his breath picking up and his moans becoming more wild and loose, you knew it would end soon.

“I’m gonna cum, baby girl. Where do you want it?”

You gather enough strength to tell him, “On my face, Toji. Please cum on my face.”

Oh, he was so glad you said that. He fucks you for a little while longer before ripping himself from you. You immediately turn around and kneel down, face lined up right underneath his balls. Toji pumps his dick and looks at you staring up at him in anticipation. You look so fucking beautiful, he releases a guttural and intense moan while his thick, white seed spills all over your face. You accept it gracefully, then when he’s done you lick the remaining cum from his dick. He shudders.

“Damn, babe.” He laughs. “You’ve never looked prettier.”

You would bat your eyes if he didn’t cum on one of them, so you opt to giggle and pose cutely. “You should take a picture.” You joke.

Well, he takes it seriously. Toji pulls up his pants and underwear to find his phone, snatching it up and snapping as many pics of you as he can. You go along with it and actually start to pose while his semen drops down your face and onto your body, mainly your tits. He makes sure to take a picture of that too.

“Yeah, this is going in the vault.” He puts his phone away, gets the paper towel roll he keeps in his car for this very reason and wipes your face for you. When you’re all clean you look so fucking gorgeous he can’t help but to kiss both of your cheeks.

“What was that for?” You ask, pulling your shirt down and putting on your shorts.

Toji shrugs. “I love you. So much.”

You give him a slight glare and his stupid smile falls. “What?”

“You just saying that because I let you cum on my face.” Toji feigns offense and dramatically puts his hand to his chest and scoffs and gasps.

“How dare you. I love you for you are AND you let me cum on your face.” He says. You roll your eyes.

“Take us home so you can do it again, loser." You slam the door shut and start to light the unfinished blunt once more.

Toji looks at you through the window and can’t help but stare in absolute infatuation. You really are perfect for him.

“Can you come the fuck on?” You open the door to shout at him.

“Yes, baby.”

ending a/n: I started this series to take a break every once in a while from all the angst I write, lmao. I have quite a few story ideas, but none of them are fully written just yet. Be sure to check back for the next installment in the series🩵🩵🩵

Pics are from Pinterest btw

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[nb-octopus-writes]

once you’re in the hive, the other bees assume you’re supposed to be there

[Masterpost]

Chapter 7: How They Kept Him Very Well

Wordcount: 1.1K

~~~~

“You know, if you keep feeding me like this, I’m going to gain weight,” Virgil says, settling back in his chair with immense satisfaction.

“No offense, but you look like you could use it, Jack Skellington,” Roman tells him.

“Hey!” Virgil protests, though he isn’t actually particularly offended. Roman’s not wrong, for one thing. Virgil certainly doesn’t have the time and energy—or skill, honestly—to make as good food as Patton does. These last couple days have been the most well-fed he’s been since he moved out to be an independent adult.

Roman pushes his chair back and hops up. “Ready for movies?” he asks eagerly, already heading for the doorway.

“Roman Augustus Sanders, do not leave your plate on the table,” Logan says tiredly, but without heat. Roman freezes mid-step, shoulders raising guiltily. Slowly, cartoonishly stiffly, he spins back around.

“Oops.”

“I can’t stay anyway, remember?” Virgil asks. “I gotta get going so I can bike home before it gets dark.”

Roman's eyes go wide. “I. Forgot,” he says with a grimace.

“It is well past sunset,” Logan informs Virgil. “I am afraid that ‘before it gets dark’ is no longer possible tonight.”

“Oh.” Well, fuck. What's he supposed to do now!?

“Sorry,” Roman says. “I did not take the passage of time into consideration. I'll make it up to you. Do you want me to drive you home? I'll drive you home right away. Or you could spend the night again, and I'll take you to work in the morning?”

“I have tomorrow off, actually,” Virgil says, which is the first thing he can think of in response to that extremely generous offer. Roman brightens.

“Oh, perfect!” he says. “That means you can stay the night and then take your bike home tomorrow when it's light out!”

Virgil hesitates, glancing at the others. “Are… you sure that's okay?” he asks.

Logan shrugs. “Unless you have plans for your day off and would prefer to be taken home tonight, that would seem to be the most expedient method,” he says.

“No, I… No, no plans,” Virgil says.

“So you’ll stay?” Roman asks. Virgil hesitates, then nods. Roman whoops, bouncing. “So can we watch Unfortunate Events then?” he asks hopefully.

Virgil can’t help smiling, Roman’s excitement contagious. “Sure, soon as you take care of your dishes,” he says.

Roman sticks his tongue out at him, coming back to gather them up and take them into the kitchen. 

Virgil takes care of his own, and Logan puts the leftovers away tonight. The instant their dishes are rinsed and in the dishwasher, Roman whisks Virgil off to the theater again.

One episode follows another, as they eagerly discuss, theorize, and refuse to stop on cliffhangers. They pause, once, because Roman wants to make popcorn, and once more a few episodes later for a bathroom break, but otherwise they continue watching episodes back to back.

Eventually, Patton interrupts their marathon. He’s wearing his grey cat onesie again, and yawns as he opens the door.

“Are you coming to bed soon?” he asks.

Roman pauses the episode and glances at his wrist, on which he is not wearing a watch. “What time is it?” he asks.

“Midnight-thirty,” Calico says, and yawns again. “Logan’s already asleep.”

Roman catches Virgil’s eyes and makes a wide-eyed whoops expression at him. “Stop after this one?” he suggests, and glances at the screen again. “I think we’re almost done.” He presses a button on the remote and pulls up the time bar thing. “Yeah, ten minutes left,” he says.

“Sounds doable,” Virgil says, glad that he doesn’t have to get up for work tomorrow. It’s going to take him a while to wind down enough to fall asleep, and if it’s already past midnight, he would have had no chance of getting anywhere near enough sleep. Hopefully they won’t mind him sleeping in, because otherwise they're going to have to literally drag him out of bed in the morning, and that might spoil their weirdly good opinions of him. “Probably another cliffhanger though.”

“Probably,” Roman agrees. He sucks in a breath, drawing himself up. “We shall have to be strong and resist the siren’s call of another episode.”

“Ten minutes?” Patton asks.

“Ten minutes, beloved,” Roman promises.

“Okay,” Patton says sleepily, and closes the door again.

Ten minutes later, they are indeed left on a cliffhanger. It takes real effort not to continue despite their promise, but Roman visibly gathers his strength, screws up his face, and points the remote at the tv. “For love and cuddles,” he says, pressing the power button.

“Where should I sleep tonight?” Virgil asks as Roman leads him tiredly up the stairs.

Roman shrugs. “Same room as last time unless you’d rather join us,” he says. “We can share Paddy Bear.”

That’s… that’s a joke, right? Roman didn’t just seriously invite Virgil into his bed, invite him to cuddle with his boyfriend. Right? Virgil chuckles uncertainly. He’s even tireder than he thought, to not catch the jesting tone. Or maybe Roman’s too tired and deadpanned too hard.

Probably a combination of both, Virgil decides. It is late. “I think I’d better not,” he says, trying to match Princey’s levity. “I don’t know if you snore.”

Roman gasps in pretend offense, pressing his hand to his chest. Then he leans forward and relates in a conspiratorial tone, “You didn’t hear this from me, but Logan snores like the most adorable rumbly kitten purr.”

“Does he?” Virgil says, grinning. Roman nods happily.

“He does,” he says. “It is adorable, but it does take some getting used to, so I can’t blame you for wanting your own room.” Roman yawns, then reaches up to pat Virgil’s shoulder. “Night, Spoops,” he says. “See you in… I dunno, prolly not the morning. See you tomorrow. Sleep well.”

“Good night, Princey,” Virgil answers. “Sleep well.”

Roman pats Virgil on the shoulder again, then shuffles off into his bedroom.

The room they had put Virgil in last time is nearly as he left it, except that the pajamas have been moved to the nightstand. Virgil carefully does not touch the bed as he changes, knowing that if he had been unwilling to leave it the first night, the exhaustion he can feel in his bones will make it a veritable black hole of comfort tonight.

Pajama-clad, Virgil turns off the light and climbs into bed. He sinks into the softness, comfort claiming him, and is asleep faster than he knew was humanly possible.

~~~~

Chapter 8: One Could Get Used to This

[another-supernova-girl]

Bleed American - Wyatt Walker ("Ida Red" 2021) x Fem OC

* Part 1 : Salt *

I'm taking a short break from my Cooper Abbott fic to indulge in another Hartnett character that I had actually started writing for before I watched Trap. This is canon divergent from the last, oh, 30 minutes of the movie (where Ida gets paroled as agreed upon, so Wyatt and Dallas don't have to do the violent plane theft job, and Dallas doesn't have to die, and Wyatt doesn't have to go to prison 💙). Feel free to check out my Josh Hartnett masterlist for all my writing of his characters so far. Comments and reblogs with unique are very appreciated (I'm sorry if I don't respond, I do see them and read them all and they give me about the only serotonin I have left these days). Gif is mine .Also...I really hate onions.

(( word count ~ 6,800 ))

“I'm...I know, I'm sorry, just...can't you just come pick me up?” Darla whined into the phone, to her older brother, knowing that calling up her so-called 'mom' or 'dad' was more than she was ready to deal with, after the events of the night so far. She glanced over to the woman at her side, sitting on the edge of the stage, an apologetic look on her face as she waited for the voice on the other end to speak up. After a few moments, she started nodding, spewing thank you's and more sorry's, and disconnected the call, letting out a breath. “My brother an' my uncle are gonna come pick me up,” she confirmed as she slipped her phone into her pocket. “I'm sorry for makin' you wait.”

“It's okay...I just wanna make sure you get home safe.”

* * *

“Alright, baby girl, I can't wait to hear an explanation,” Wyatt Walker's voice rang out as he stepped into the mostly empty building, his uncle, Dallas Walker, at his back, the two of them glancing around for signs of life.

“I didn't do nothin' wrong,” Darla vocalized her defense, Wyatt and Dallas following her voice until they reached the main room of the establishment, featuring a bar, several tables pushed back toward the walls, and a small stage for live music, serving as a perch for Darla, and a young woman neither of her relatives had ever laid eyes on.

“No, 'course not, someone else-” Dallas spoke up, but Darla's nervous voice piped up again.

“Ask Lex, she'll tell you! I didn't...it wasn't my fault,” she huffed, crossing her arms and looking to the non-relative at her side for back-up. “Lex?”

Wyatt and Dallas both directed their dark eyes to the stranger, who suddenly looked quite nervous herself. “I...well, it's true,” Lex uttered, and Darla threw her arms up as if that were the end of the conversation, hopping off the edge of the stage and walking toward one of the tables to grab her bag, leaving the stranger alone with the two men before her. Dallas watched as she wandered away, his gaze quickly gravitating toward the bar, which he began to approach, leaving his nephew alone with the stranger.

“Lex, huh?” Wyatt spoke up as he eyed her casually, reaching his hand out, and carefully grasping hers when she took it and hopped down.

“Alexandria,” she mumbled, her eyes darting toward the teenage girl as she snagged a bar stool and sat upon it to grab a beer she was definitely not legally old enough to drink next to her uncle, who grabbed a bottle of the same.

“Alexandria,” Wyatt repeated, nodding as she extracted her hand from his, and following her as she walked across the empty room to join the other two. “So what excitement did we miss tonight that you couldn't call your mama about-”

“She ain't my mama-” Darla murmured, and Wyatt closed his eyes, his expression becoming momentarily tense as he sat down.

“You know what I mean,” he answered, but his gruff demeanor quickly faltered as he glanced at his little sister. He couldn't stay mad at her, not for much of anything. “Well, we ain't gonna get the truth outta this one,” he declared, shifting his gaze instead to the new acquaintance. “How 'bout you?”

Lex opened her mouth briefly before closing it again without a noise. She hadn't expected a conversation, just a confirmation that the girl was in safe hands so she could head back to her motel room.

“Well, damn, Wyatt, you're makin' her nervous,” Dallas spoke up, and Lex followed the voice to the man farthest from her. “What was your name, sweetheart?” he asked, reaching out a hand that Lex tentatively grasped.

“Lex,” she mumbled, and the eldest of the quartet nodded.

“Well, I'm Dallas, I'm Darla's uncle, and this is Wyatt, her brother. He ain't usually this rude,” he concluded, and Wyatt let out an audible breath. “Why don't you tell us what went down?”

“Well...,” Lex began again, licking her uncomfortably dry lips, not even slightly more at ease than she had been before she knew their names. “We were on stage-”

“We?” Wyatt asked immediately.

“Yeah, my band and I-”

“You're in a band?” Dallas inquired, surprised, though he supposed the vibrantly dyed purple hair and calloused hand he'd shaken made more sense in retrospect.

“Yeah, we suck. Anyway,” she continued before she could be cut off again, “we were playing, and I saw this girl,” she quickly indicated Darla, “getting groped by some guy in the crowd, and it was pretty obvious she wasn't about it, so I stopped the show and had security pull him on stage, and...”

There was silence for a few seconds before Wyatt's voice sounded, repeating her last word, “And?”

“And, I...tased him in the crotch,” she admitted, shrugging her shoulders at the male grunts on either side of her.

“Twice,” Darla added, Wyatt looking to his youngest sister, Dallas taking another swig of beer.

“I asked him if he knew how old she was, and he said something about how she was dressed, and it was pretty clear the message hadn't sunk in,” she continued, “so I electrocuted him until he couldn't stand up.”

“Well, that's...not what I expected,” Dallas declared, setting his bottle down, glancing to the musician, and his nephew beside her. “And where's this guy now?”

“Um...no idea? But, uh...” she paused, shifting her weight on the stool and reaching into one of her back pockets to pull out a government-issued piece of plastic, and placing it in Dallas' hand when he reached out for it. “I snagged his license, in case she decided to press charges, after all, and I asked security to remove him. I figured it was safest for Darla, here,” she acknowledged, reaching to grasp the teenager's hand, “if she had someone trustworthy come pick her up, just in case.” She heard the seat beside her squeak under the brother's weight, and glanced his way reflexively.

“Well, that's awfully upstanding of you,” he drawled, his face seeming a bit kinder than it had the last time she'd looked his way.

“Well, we...try to make sure wherever we play if a safe space for the girls and the gays, so...” she shrugged again, finding it harder this time to look away from him.

“Well, on behalf of the girls, and, uh...” he motioned to his uncle, who raised his beer in acknowledgment, before taking another drink, “ the gays, that's much appreciated.”

Lex glanced Dallas' way and let out a light chuckle, eyes drifting back to Darla, who seemed more at ease after the vocal explanation. “Well, anyway, you're here now, and I'm sure she's in good hands, and I really should be go-”

“Well, hold up, now. Where do you think you're going,” Wyatt cut in before Dallas could, the two men clearly on the same page as they caught each other's gaze.

“...Away?” Lex hedged, easing off her bar stool.

“Nah, we can't have that,” Wyatt stated as he reached out, snagging a belt loop on her jeans with one finger. “You saved our girl, here. Least we can do is buy you dinner,” he offered, though with his digit clinging to the loop at her hip, it seemed more like a demand. “You hungry? Dallas, you hungry? Darla?”

“Starved,” Dallas declared, Darla nodding, looking to Lex for her answer.

“I...I guess.”

* * *

“Are they always that intense?” Lex asked the teen at her side as she drove behind Dallas' car, toward the 24-hour diner they had suggested, having declined the offer to ride along in the same vehicle as both of the men.

“I guess...I mean, not really...sorta,” Darla mumbled, playing with the charm on her necklace as she watched their surroundings from the passenger seat. “Dallas is always kinda crazy...Wyatt was actin' kinda weird, though,” she admitted.

“Like he expected you to be the cause of the trouble?” Lex ventured, glancing briefly to her side, before her gaze flitted back to the road.

Darla let out a soft laugh before answering, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“You run to them for help a lot?”

“Wyatt, mostly. He was my favorite uncle, and then I found out he's actually my brother, and...it's just confusin', I guess. He still backs me up, though,” Darla continued. “He ain't mean, or nothin'. I think he's just been stressed out. Guess I ain't exactly helpin'.” The conversation dwindled to a mostly comfortable silence as Lex's car continued to follow Dallas', the restaurant finally coming into view, to her relief.

* * *

“Ah, not the salad. Don't tell me you're one of those girls,” Dallas chided as Lex flipped through the menu and landed in the health-conscious section of the laminated booklet. “Get some meat on them bones, girl!”

“Do you have any idea how much fast food I get stuck eating on the road? I am cheeseburger-ed out,” she retorted, glancing to the elder of the two men, before returning to the description to figure what she'd need to have left out. She wasn't about to sit and pick out onions from her greens in front of these people.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled, taking a swig of beer from a new bottle provided by the diner, another reason she'd chosen not to ride with the men.

Somehow, she'd managed to find herself in the middle of a round booth, in much the same layout of group members from the bar : Wyatt, herself, Darla and Dallas. How it kept happening this way, she wasn't sure, and regardless of how obnoxiously handsome both of these men were, she couldn't shake her discomfort.

“You spend a lot of time on the road?” Wyatt spoke up, and Lex glanced his way before shifting her eyes back to the menu. His presence had felt intimidating in the shadowy bar that doubled as her band's venue for the night, but in the florescent light of the diner, he was even harder to look away from. It took a conscious effort not to stare, and his arms outstretched, resting along the upholstered edge of the booth seating, and nearly at the back of her neck, wasn't helping.

“We mostly do local venues, but when we leave the city, we try to schedule as many stops as we can to get the most out of the trip,” she answered, taking a drink of water.

“And what's local?” he continued, reaching with the hand not inches from her shoulder to push his hair out of his face.

“Um...Oklahoma City,” she confirmed, and he nodded, as did Dallas.

“ 'Bout a hundred miles away,” the older of the two acknowledged, and she nodded. “How you like it, down there?”

“I don't,” Lex uttered immediately, which earned her glances from both men, before the entire table lifted their gaze at the approaching, elderly waitress, each guest proceeding to rattle off their order, ending with Lex, who specified what she did and didn't want on her salad, and feeling the eyes on her from the inhabitants of the table, finishing off her order with, “and a banana shake.” After the waitress disappeared again, Lex glanced to Dallas' smirking face. “Happy?” He shrugged in response.

“Sure...I'm gonna judge you on those onions though-”

“My mother made it her mission to put onions in almost everything she could, okay? I hate them. I'll always hate them, and you can't make me feel bad about it,” she cut in defensively, Dallas' smirk widening, Wyatt remaining silent as his limbs shifted slightly, his tanned arm brushing against her neck, the ends of her purple ponytail tickling his skin.

“Alright!” Dallas exclaimed, throwing his hands up in defense. “So, anyway...what's it like, being a rock star?” he inquired, receiving an eye roll from Lex, though Darla's attention perked up at the question.

“I...couldn't tell you,” Lex admitted with a small laugh, shaking her head slightly.

“Not the fake modestly,” Dallas protested, but Lex shook her head, firm in her convictions.

“No, really...I mean, you saw how tiny that stage was, right? How small that venue was? No, if you wind up at one of our shows, it's probably by accident,” Lex explained, taking another drink.

“Well...you look the part, at least,” Wyatt suddenly spoke up, and Lex felt his hand graze the back of her neck, playing at the ends of her dyed hair.

“Yeah, I guess,” Lex murmured, unsure how she felt about the physical attention. He still unnerved her, maybe even more than the older man at the other end of the booth.

“So...” Dallas spoke up again, his eyes shifting to his nephew, and back to the new acquaintance, “what's the deal? Can't play your instruments of somethin'?”

“Because we're a girl band?” Lex asked suddenly, head tilting, eyes slightly narrowed. “Because girls can't play their instruments?” When Dallas shrugged, she shook her head slightly and relaxed more fully against the upholstered seating, Wyatt's arm drifting back around the edge again, the nape of her neck against his sleeve. “We currently have three guys, and me, by the way. I'm the only girl.”

“Currently?” Wyatt's voice again.

“Yeah, that's, uh...that's kinda part of the problem. We're constantly losing and gaining and swapping members. I think I've been with them the longest at this point. We mostly do covers, though, so it doesn't really matter who's playing or singing or whatever,” she finished.

“And that doesn't bother you?” Wyatt asked suddenly, Lex turning to look in his direction, to the chocolate brown eyes that hid in the shadow of his brow.

“Um...some days, I suppose. I guess I...I was never really a songwriter. I mostly just wanted to learn to play the songs I already loved, from other bands. Certainly not itching to get famous or anything.”

* * *

The conversation carried on steadily until their meals came, and a mostly comfortable silence filled their corner of the diner as they ate, Dallas and Wyatt finally shifting some down the booth so everyone could stretch their arms and eat comfortably. In the midst of finishing their meals, Lex cleared her throat and mumbled an “excuse me”, indicating for Wyatt to move so she could exit the booth, the younger man slipping out and stepping around to the other side to sit by his uncle until she returned. As soon as she slipped through the women's bathroom door, Lex put her weight against it, and the back of her shirt slid against the glossy wood until she sat on the tile floor, taking a deep breath.

When she'd pulled the creep on stage to humiliate him and zap him with her taser-like stun gun, she never expected the rest of her evening to turn into this. She certainly had no regrets in saving Darla, of course, as she'd hope that anyone on stage who saw such behavior would do the same, but...she had not signed up for this, sitting at a table in some secluded diner in the middle of the night with a couple of 'good ol' boys'. Regardless of how admittedly attractive both of them were, they were intense and intimidating, and she had not felt comfortable since the moment they'd walked into the venue that night. “Just a little longer...it's almost over, I'm almost free,” she mumbled to herself as she sat with her face in her hands, cross-legged on the floor. She wondered briefly how much charge was left in her little stun gun.

Deciding she might as well make the most of her time away from the group, she quickly used the facilities and rinsed off her face, swished some water around in her mouth to loosen any spare bits from the salad, checking her reflection, taking her hair down to redo it...and wondering why she was taking the time to groom herself at all, given the situation. With a last glance in the mirror, she stepped toward the door and pulled it open, and nearly yelped at what she found waiting for her.

“Jesus, fuck, what is with you two?!” she exclaimed in as hushed a tone as she could manage, confronted with Wyatt, waiting just outside the door in the narrow hallway.

“You were gone so long-” he began in his cool demeanor, but she quickly cut him off.

“And?! I don't...I don't fucking know you. I haven't done anything to you, or your uncle, or your sister. I did a nice thing, and ever since you two showed up, I feel like I'm being sized up and interrogated and shit,” she huffed, letting out the frustration she'd kept locked inside the last few hours. “What is with all this,” Lex continued, looking around to make sure there weren't more strangers approaching, “all this intimidation crap?”

Wyatt slumped against the wall behind him, though it put little distance between them, watching her thoughtfully. “Didn't realize I was-”

“Really?” Lex challenged, reaching for his waist to snag a finger around his belt loop and giving it a tug, as he had done to her at the bar. “Grabbing me like this, and hovering and touching me, that doesn't...” her words faltered as he dipped his chin to drop his gaze from her eyes to his waist, where she gripped his jeans, staring for several seconds before he extended his own hand to carefully grasp hers and draw it away.

“You're right,” he admitted, running his free hand over his chin and cheek to scratch lightly at the facial hair that decorated his skin. “It's, uh...it's been a tough year, and I suppose it's made it hard to trust people, and my own instincts. And that's got nothin' t' do with you,” he explained, running his thumb absently over her knuckle. “I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It weren't my intention. I guess it's just...habit,” Wyatt continued, and Lex's gaze finally shifted from their connected hands, up to his face again, his pretty brown eyes framed by those charming brows. “Can we start over?”

* * *

Another half hour had passed by the time Dallas stood up to give his arms a stretch, glancing over at Wyatt and shifting his head to indicate the younger man follow him, the two of them leaving the booth to walk across the diner, toward the register to pay the bill.

“He ain't with nobody,” Darla whispered as soon as she presumed them out of earshot, and a smile spread across Lex's lips, shaking her head as she let out a breath of amusement.

“I wasn't planning on asking,” she answered, glancing over at the two men, oddly huddled together, as if in a secret conversation of their own.

“Oh, come on. You two've been making eyes at each other since...well, at least since you got back from the bathroom,” Darla protested, but Lex continued to dismiss her.

“We live a hundred miles apart-”

“So?” the teenager's voice took on a whiny tone in protest.

“And he's gotta be close to twenty years older than me-”

“Sooo?” Darla continued, as if she were speaking to one of her schoolmates.

“Annnd...” Lex whined back, a little exasperated. “We don't even know each other.”

“Well, I can give you his phone number,” Darla offered eagerly, and Lex put her elbows on the table, her face in her hands, covering her eyes as she leaned forward.

Meanwhile, across the diner, Dallas leaned on his own elbows against the varnished surface of the bar counter, his voice hushed as Wyatt leaned against the same counter at his side.

“She sure is somethin',” the older man muttered, staring at a rogue menu, considering whether of not to get a dessert to go.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Wyatt answered, staring at nothing in particular.

“I noticed you noticin',” Dallas responded, thumbing through the laminated pages. “So, you want me to...pop outside and kick her taillight in or somethin'?” When Wyatt finally looked directly at him with an indignant stare, Dallas continued. “She can't go home with a busted taillight...someone's gotta fix it so she don't get pulled over...and damned if you don't just happen to own an auto shop-”

“Yeah, Dallas, I get your meaning. I'm not an idiot,” he answered, shaking his head. “And how exactly do you think that's gonna look after the night we've had?”

“Hey, I'm not the one that decided to spend half the night acting like a dick-”

“Fuck,” Lex's voice sounded from across the diner, and both men shifted their gaze in the girls' direction.

“What's wrong?” Darla piped up, sliding out of the booth and walking toward Lex, standing directly in front of the glass entrance door. Heavy rain drops plopped down from the sky, soaking everything in sight, coating the windows of the cars in the parking lot and giving them a sheen of fog. Dallas and Wyatt had crossed the restaurant by the time she answered.

“My windshield wipers are...pretty much useless,” she huffed, leaning her forehead against the glass, water vapor collecting where she breathed against it. “I didn't exactly plan to be out until...fuck, almost 2am,” she sighed as she looked at her phone. She knew rain was on the way, she just thought she'd be able to beat it, easily.

Wyatt and Dallas were already exchanging glances by the time Darla's voice sounded again. “Well, Wyatt's got an auto shop just a couple miles away,” she explained, and Lex lifted her forehead from the glass to turn and glance over her shoulder at the two Walker men who had gathered.

* * *

“Thanks for this,” Lex mumbled as she watched the rain through the passenger window of her car, Wyatt in the driver's seat, having split up from Dallas, who'd agreed with absolutely no complaints to take Darla home.

“It's nothin',” Wyatt answered, tempted to sneak a glance at the young woman beside him, but thinking better of it with the rain coming down as hard as it was, the rubber squeegees of the wipers uselessly flopping around like spaghetti noodles as they swiped noisily across the windshield. “You saved our girl...that's worth a lot more than a salad and a milkshake.”

Lex was quiet for several moments before she spoke up again, leaning her head to the side against the upholstery of her seat. “I half expected you to lecture me for letting them get this bad,” she confessed.

“Yeah...you get this one, lecture free. I'm not your daddy. Just don't let the new ones...what?” he glanced over for the briefest second when he noticed an odd expression on her face in the periphery of his vision. She shook her head, but continued her silence. “Did I say something funny?”

“Don't worry about it,” she mumbled, glancing out the window again, a crooked smile on her lips.

True to Darla's word, not ten minutes of driving passed before Wyatt's combination auto shop and car lot came into view, Wyatt pulling in when he was near enough and driving around the back to the dock doors, Lex breathing a sigh of relief.

“See? Told you I'd get you there. I ain't got an umbrella though...can't promise you won't get wet,” he stated as he got out of the parked car and closed the door behind him, walking around the front as Lex watched him, stepping out when he opened the passenger door. “What?” he asked as he glanced briefly to her face, but stating nothing else as she followed him with narrowed eyes back around the other side to the front door. When they stepped inside, Wyatt quickly locked the door behind himself, and walked past her as she stared at him, wandering toward his office. He stopped suddenly in his tracks at the unmistakable sound of angry electricity, swerving around to look upon the young woman, still situated near the front door, grasping the device she'd zapped the creep at the concert with, earlier.

“Just testing it,” she stated simply, sliding it back into the purse she carried.

“Right...how about you find a place to sit and get comfortable, and I'll get your car in here and take a look,” he offered, wary of the small but powerful weapon, resuming his walk toward his office. Lex didn't take a step until he'd disappeared from view.

* * *

“So what do you do, when you're not playing, uh...what was it you said you played?” Wyatt's voice rang through the shop as he gathered various tools and bottles of fluid, the wipers swapped out for new ones without issue.

“A little bit of everything, mostly bass though...I didn't ask you to do that,” Lex spoke up as she realized her car was slowly rising into the air, Wyatt activating jacks underneath.

“No, you didn't...but your oil is filthy,” the mechanic declared, drawing out the dipstick to show her, Lex waving her hand as she approached.

“That's okay, I believe you,” she mumbled, putting her hands on her waist as she watched him pull up a rolling board to lie on and disappear beneath her car. Before he even touched metal with his hands, he felt himself being pulled back out, and he found the musician crouched beside him when he reappeared, her hand firm on the molded plastic his weight lay upon. “Why are you doing this?”

“Like I said, your oil is-”

“Good enough to get me home,” she cut him off, shifting her legs until she sat on the cement floor beside him. “I'm grateful for the new wipers, but you don't need to do all this.”

“It's really no big deal,” Wyatt shrugged, and vanished again when Lex loosened her grip.

“So, is this what passes for flirting up here? Topping off a girl's fluids?” she asked, leaning forward to balance her elbow on her leg, her cheek against her palm as she glanced around at her surroundings.

“You make it sound so dirty,” Wyatt's voice floated out from underneath the car.

“I saw your finger nails, you're way past dirty,” she mumbled, sliding back a bit when the little wheels beneath his body began to move and he reappeared before her, fresh grease stains on his cheek and forehead. “Definitely dirty,” she observed, but her smile was a pleasant and welcome sight to behold. “Do you need anything?”

Wyatt looked thoughtful, and he stuffed his hand in his pocket and pulled out some change, dimes and half a dozen quarters. “Why don't you go grab a drink from the vending machine.”

“That's not what I meant-”

“I know what you meant. I've got this handled, darlin', you just relax.” When she wandered off for a few minutes, and reemerged, it wasn't the sound of a can opening that met his ears, but a box full of something loose inside. “What'd you get?”

“Sour Patch Kids,” Lex declared, tearing at the thin cardboard as Wyatt slid out into view again. “What?”

“You took my Sour Patch Kids?” he asked, and she glanced down at the box. “Those are my favorites.”

“You gave me the money,” she mumbled, easing open the plastic bag inside and dumping a few pieces into her own hand.

“I said a drink,” he reminded, but there was no edge in his voice, or on his face. “Everybody around here knows the Sour Patch Kids are mine.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn't keep them in the vending machine,” she shrugged, watching as he started to reach for the box in her hands. “No, your hands are gross...here.” She plucked a piece out of the bag and hovered it over his lips, which he immediately parted, accepting the tangy treat. “Are you about done under there?”

Wyatt chewed briefly and swallowed, turning his head to glance back at her elevated car. “I guess I'm just stallin',” he finally admitted.

Lex nodded and glanced up at her car, freshly serviced and in much better shape to hit the road. “Yeah, I kinda guessed that.”

“You gotta drive home tonight?” he inquired suddenly, and something about the question felt more like a sort of invitation. She dipped her slender fingers into the box and drew out another piece of candy, offering it to him when he opened his mouth again.

“In the morning. I have a motel room, tonight...that I will be going back to, alone,” she clarified when he raised his thick brows.

“Now, did I say anything about-”

“No, but you said, yourself, that you're stalling,” she reminded, dropping another sour-coated gummy into his mouth, his larger, grease-stained hand grasping hers suddenly when she started to pull it away. He was quiet for several seconds, content to stare into her dark green eyes, before he finally spoke up.

“You gonna electrocute me with that zap stick if I try to kiss you?” he whispered, his eyes trained on hers.

Lex watched the mechanic thoughtfully, his body practically sprawled out on the floor, before her. “God, this has been such a weird fuckin' night,” she finally declared, and his lips twitched in response.

“That ain't exactly the answer I was looking for,” he retorted, and Lex leaned away again as he slid out completely from beneath the car and sat up on the rolling board. “You got a boyfriend at home, or somethin'?” She glanced away, shaking her head, the loose strands of violet hair by her ears swaying. “Or a girlfriend?”

“No, I...I'm not seeing anybody,” she admitted, looking back at him as he lifted himself off the board and rose to his feet, reaching a dirty hand out that she stared at for a few seconds before accepting.

“Anybody waitin' for you back at that motel?” he asked abruptly, and she suddenly wondered if it had been a bad idea to leave her stun gun in her bag. “Or can I convince you to stay a little longer?”

“I, uh...” she began, but her words faltered.

“You don't have to,” he stated, loosening his embrace of her hand. “But, I sure wouldn't mind if you hung around a bit longer.” When she swallowed noticeably, her face visibly flushed, even in the dim light of the empty shop, Wyatt nodded with a hint of a smirk, dropping her hand completely. “Why don't you think on it, and I'll go get cleaned up.”

In his brief absence, Lex began to wander around the auto shop, eventually finding her way to what was clearly his office, leaving the door open behind her. Small, cheaply framed pictures of Hot Rods and other classic cars hung against ugly, yellow ochre walls. To her relief, there were no sleazy calendars of scantily clad women draped across muscle cars in sight. Ignoring the distance slaps of rubber-soled shoes against smooth concrete, she continued her casual inspection, glancing over pinned-up receipts and finally rounding the desk, finding brightly scrawled coloring pages full of cartoony cars, taped to the walls. Darla's name was written in crayon on both of them. “Don't tell 'er I still got those up. It'd just embarrass her,” Wyatt's voice sounded from the doorway as he observed his office invader.

“I won't,” Lex answered, a gentle smile on her face as she observed them, the mechanic stepping around the desk from the opposite direction and dropping down into his swiveling chair.

Reaching into a desk drawer and pulling out a canister of grease-cleaning wipes, Wyatt popped open the container and handed one to his guest, placing her car keys down on the glossy surface as she wiped away the stains he'd left on her hands. “Whatcha thinkin' about?”

“About how much of a hypocrite I am,” she mused, glancing over her shoulder before shifting to rest her weight against the edge of his desk. When Wyatt said nothing in return, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms across his chest instead, regarding her with curious eyes, she continued. “Preaching to your little sister to take care around dangerous men...and now, here I am, doing something impulsive and stupid,” she explained, shrugging her shoulders, placing her palms against the rounded edge of the desk.

Wyatt was silent for several seconds as he considered her, only serving to add to her hesitance. “I take it Darla's been tellin' stories about me,” he finally stated, and Lex simply raised her brows in response. “So...am I still makin' you nervous,” he guessed, his gaze, directly into her eyes, ceaseless.

“I don't think 'nervous' is the word I'd go with,” she mumbled, glancing away from his intense stare.

“Then why do you keep doin' that?” Wyatt asked suddenly, and Lex's brows knit together in mild confusion. “Lookin' away from me like that...Do you just not trust me, or-”

“I don't trust me,” her voice was barely above a whisper, and Wyatt tilted his head to the side, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward in his chair, a strange smile forming on his lips.

“That so?” he asked, and Lex pursed her lips, as if she were wary some other uncomfortable truth might slip out. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk tighter as Wyatt finally stood up from his chair, stepping so casually in front of her, and so her body sat sandwiched between his own and the heavy, sturdy piece of furniture below her. “Know what I think?” he asked, his body looming, and Lex shook her head as her eyes focused on his. “I think you're a little sweet on me,” he murmured, his large hands finding her smaller ones and uncurling her fingers to weave his own betwixt them.

“Against my better judgment,” she whispered, glancing down to where their hands joined.

“You know, I...just 'cause I ain't exactly on the straight an' narrow...doesn't mean I ain't a good man,” Wyatt did his best to assure, his hands maneuvering hers up to his shoulders, and letting go to grasp her waist when her fingers scrunched up the fabric of his button-up. “Ain't nothin' t' be nervous about, sweetheart,” he rasped as her digits clutched at his shirt, his large, calloused hands traveling down her sides and gripping her outer thighs when he reached them to lift her up onto the edge of his desk. The tiny metal bits of her jeans scraped against the smooth wood as he stepped even closer and situated his thighs between her open knees. “Alexandria,” he breathed as her fingers worked their way up his neck, to the chestnut hair at his nape, his own hands gliding over her bare arms, her shoulders, finding their way back up to her jaw, tilting her chin back with his thumb until she had no choice but to look into his eyes. “If you're gonna tell me no...you better do it, right now,” he warned as her fingers worked through his dark mane, Wyatt finally descending over her to capture her lips, the tiniest moan sounding in Lex's throat.

Wyatt's lips were just as soft as they looked, careful and gentle as they caressed her own, the accumulation of his short whiskers scraping lightly against her skin. His mouth worked so delicately against her own, as if any hint of over-ambitiousness might divide their bodies from one another, that it was Lex who finally took some initiative. Parting her lips against his, gripping a fistful of his hair as his hands began to descend down her body again, she took advantage of the opportunity when a sigh escaped him, prodding against his tongue with her own until his mouth practically latched over hers. A muffled groan rumbled in Wyatt's throat as he felt legs wrap around his waist, slender fingers at his shirt again, groping along his clavicle and shoulder, Lex's blunt-cut nails gripping the fabric as his own hands worked under the hem of her tee. When her body gave a light shudder at the contact of his rough fingertips against her bare skin, but showed no sign of displeasure, he eased higher, mouth still working against hers as his calloused digits met fabric-wrapped underwire, traveling higher still, cupping the soft mounds of flesh through the light padding of her bra. It wasn't enough.

Finally drawing away from her mouth, leaving lighter kisses against her cheek, her jaw, his hands slid around her to pluck at the clasp keeping her soft flesh from his hands, pausing when her whole body seemed to noticeably still. “Is this okay?” he breathed against her skin, his scruffy chin against her temple, open palms against her shoulder blades. Wyatt felt her breath on his throat, her hands meeting at the top button of his shirt. “Is that a yes?”

“I...I'm sorry. It's just been a long-”

“Don't apologize,” Wyatt quickly cut into her words, his hands descending to the small of her back, her unhooked bra still clinging to her chest. “You got nothin' to be sorry about.” His large hands still at her back, his thumbs gently caressing her sides, Wyatt's mouth found Lex's once more, following her lead as she descended against his desk, legs still at his waist. His fingertips eased her shirt up over her stomach, grazing a bit too lightly over her ribs, making her squirm for just a moment before his hands slid higher, pushing back multiple layers of clothing up to her collarbone, and grasping gingerly the soft mounds he'd uncovered.

“Wyatt?” he heard her whimper as his mouth followed in the wake of his hands, ghosting his lips over a taut peak as he palmed at the other side, his tongue dancing over her supple flesh as his free hand weaved between their bodies, toward the button of her jeans. It was enough to snap her out of his spell, and Wyatt found his face being lifted off her chest from her grip in his silky hair.

“Too much?” he mumbled as her fingers loosened, pushing his fallen hair out of his face.

“A little,” she managed, rising up on her elbows, her legs unlocking to fall away at his hips.

“I just wanted a little taste,” he whispered, abandoning her breasts in favor of her parted lips.

“I think you've tasted enough for one night,” she answered, but her smile was still present when he granted some distance between them. “What time is it?”

Glancing at his watch as Lex began to pull and clasp her clothes back into place, Wyatt proclaimed it nearly four in the morning, and surprise and an edge of panic took over Lex's features. “Oh, shit, I didn't...God, they're probably freaking out,” she mumbled as she scrambled off his desk, disappearing from his office before he could ask whom she was talking about. “Fuck!” he heard her exclaim as he stepped out of his office, following her voice across his shop, finding her holding her phone up to her ear as she waited for a voice on the other side of the call. “I know, I know, I didn't have my...yeah, I'm okay, I, uh...kinda lost track of time,” she spoke into the receiver, glancing at Wyatt as he stepped closer, his features tinged with concern and a dash of frustration. Frustration with himself for keeping her out so long, or pushing a little too far, or just the thought of not getting to see her again after tonight, he couldn't decide. Maybe a bit of all of the above. “Right, yeah, I'm about to head that way...yes, I'll text you when I get to my room...goodnight.”

“Your band?” Wyatt ventured, and Lex nodded as she ended the call.

“Yeah, I guess they've been blowing up my phone for an hour, now,” she confirmed, pushing her mobile into her back pocket. “You're not the only one that worries, I guess.”

“I guess,” he repeated, a weak half-smile across his lips. “I suppose I gotta let ya go, now.”

“Um...yeah,” she agreed, though she didn't look any happier about it than he did.

“I don't suppose I'm gonna see you again,” he spoke, not even trying to fake a smile anymore.

“I, um...I'd like to...I don't know when, exactly, but...I-” Lex's words ceased as Wyatt closed the distance between them, his hands finding her jaw as his lips met her own, his kiss as gentle as their first.

“We'll figure somethin' out,” he assured as he put the slightest distance between their mouths, his hands descending to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her in closer. “You ain't gettin' away from me that easy.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

tagging : @one-of-thewalkingdead , @gissellec1 , @rainingrabbits89-blog , @pinkflowerwombat , @sashimeep , @strangererotica , @the-butchers-baby , @callsign-fangirl , @hibiskooks , @jessy02 , @charliehoennam , @pinastrihaven , @amethystblackkchaos , @bleeding-heartz , @lucy-sky

If I forgot anyone, I apologize, and please let me know if you want to be tagged in the next one

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS AND TAGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED. 💙

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 7: Help the Bear

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: “If you ever see me fighting in the forest with a grizzly bear, help the bear, cuz that bitch gon’ need it.” Usually, you’d say this phrase describes you. You’re tough, and your enemies are the bear, but you might be more fragile than it seems. You might have to put aside some of your issues for the night, in favor of helping a friend.

Word count: 6,722

Content/warnings: Swears, punching, anger, deception, mob themes, crying, yelling, broken promises, mood swings, pet and nicknames, nice Bucky???, everyone lowkey walking on eggshells around decks, high stress, kidnapping, a bar fight, mentions of knives, misogyny

Author’s Note: I feel like this is a long awaited climax which lines up with Ch. 10 of YCMBWH and Ch. 3 of Handiwork. Anyway, I’m very excited for you to read it. I’d appreciate your feedback in all forms!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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It was early Saturday morning when you stood outside of your apartment building, waiting for Gio to pick you up like you had instructed Steve. He’d sent you several calls and texts since, but you stayed radio silent, until finally, it all stopped. You didn’t have doubt, though, that he’d come through, and you wouldn’t have to drive that distance in your current state. The chance of a crash was far too high. Hm, maybe you should’ve taken Steve’s car then. No, no, you weren’t that mean. You shamed yourself for even having the thought.

The sky was full of nice shades of pink, orange, and purple, the air lacking the humidity that usually came with the rising sun. It was the rainy season, and had been for the last month, but for some reason, the conditions seemed almost drought-like, since Tuesday. How uncharacteristic.

You were pulled from your thoughts by a black SUV pulling up in front of your building, and tried to squint to see who was in the driver’s seat. You had only seen Gio once before, so you assumed it was him by the dark hair you could just barely make out through the tinted window. Good, that meant it wasn’t Steve, even though the vehicle had an eerie resemblance to his. The trunk popped open and you threw your bag in. You weren’t going to be there long, anyway. All you had packed was a change of clothes for the game tonight, pajamas, and clothes for when you left in the morning. Simple as that, and it meant you could wear whatever you wanted right now, which was the comfiest thing you had: sweatpants and your old hoodie, despite the uncharacteristically warm weather.

You closed the trunk and hopped into the back seat, barely having the time to get buckled as the car lurched forward and started on its way out of the city. You looked through the window at the passing buildings as they turned into trees, on the route that was becoming familiar once again.

Bucky grumbled as he tossed and turned in his oversized leather desk chair, arising from the short sleep he had found there after a late night of business dealings designed to be front loaded for him to have this weekend open. He moved to stand, only for his feet to be met by something soft, that was definitely not the hardwood floors, under his loafers.

“Ah, fuck! Steve? What are you doing down there? Why didn’t you fall asleep on the couch, like a normal person?”

Steve groaned, rolling over just enough to look at his best friend above him. “Couch is too comfy. Floor keeps me on edge, just barely asleep. I deserve that. And now I’m up so we can go immediately. You’re welcome, I did this for you and your future wife.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and stepped over the lump of blond and muscle on the floor, creeping towards Sam, who actually was on the couch, while grumbling, “We don’t know if she’s my future wife. We hardly have a label.”

Bucky flicked Sam’s ear for him to rise, met with an, “ow! I’ve been up since you have, boss man!”

Bucky rolled his eyes again, walking over to the closet in the corner of his home office and grabbing his and Steve’s go bags that they had packed the night before.

“Okay, we’ve gotta get there soon. Sam, you still good with holding down the fort here?”

Sam nodded, having sat up fully, unlike Steve, who was still laying on the floor, face down. “Yeah, although, I’m not sure about our buddy over there. Stevie, rise and shine,” he sang out softly.

Steve stood after taking a sharp, deep breath, his eyes red and face puffy just barely, that it looked like allergies from sleeping on the floor. “Okay, I’ll drive my car, and Bucky, you’ve gotta go get Decks.”

Bucky stopped all movement, going still as a statue from where he was double checking the contents of his bag, before turning around slowly. “I’m sorry, what? You want me to go pick up Decks? No. Your girl, you pick her up.”

Steve’s head dropped as Sam let out an audible wince at the whole thing, before explaining, since he knew Steve had very little desire to be verbal right now. “Boss, Decks hasn’t talked to Steve since Tuesday. Steve can’t go pick her up, I think it’ll just make her more mad. And look at him,” he gestured to Steve, hair in a mess and head still pointing towards the floor as he rubbed his eyes, “poor puppy is gonna be broken if he has to see her this early in the morning. She’s gonna eat him alive. At least you’ve got Honey waiting for you on the other side. Steve sure as hell doesn’t.”

The help from Sam had morphed into something a little hurtful, albeit true, but Bucky still huffed. “If Decks doesn’t want to see you, why’d she agree to a ride from us?”

Steve shook his head, finally looking up. “She didn’t. She agreed to a ride from Gio, who’s in Italy currently because you were trying to be a nice boss, or whatever. So you’ve gotta drive her.”

In an instant, Bucky’s features grew soft. He switched from boss mode to friend mode. “Okay, okay. Just…get going so you can start talking strategy with Bee and Peter early. I’ll pick up Decks and meet you there.”

Steve gave a short, grateful nod and grabbed his bag, heading out.

So Bucky found himself driving you like a chauffeur out to the farm as the early morning sun was lighting up the landscape. He was used to being up this early, and he was sure you were, too, but just in case, he’d brought some breakfast.

Once he’d gotten far enough from the city that he knew you wouldn’t try and escape once he revealed himself, he rolled down the partition. He could see you curled up in the corner of the backseat, almost cuddling, clinging to the hoodie you were wearing. It was all too familiar, as Bucky knew Bee had the same one, but the last time he had seen one of them was that time he was at your apartment and Steve had worn it. And that’s when Bucky caught a whiff. Unmistakable with how often he was around it. Steve’s cologne. The corner of his lip upturned slightly. Maybe there was still a chance for the two of you.

You were pulled from your daydream by the sound of the partition lowering, but didn’t move your gaze from the passing scenery. Maybe Gio was going to ask you if you needed a bathroom break in the long drive, or to make sure the air flow and temperature were alright, but you were surprised when you heard the voice in front of you.

It was deep, and a little familiar. “So, uh… you want a croissant?”

It was Bucky. You watched as he fished around in the passenger seat, grabbing a bakery box and handing it back to you, shaking it as a signal when you hadn’t grabbed it after a few seconds. You pulled it into your lap before looking into the rear view mirror and catching his slate eyes, watching you expectantly, yet cautiously, for a response.

You looked at the label on the box. It was a French bakery. One you’d never heard of before, especially not from the list of businesses Steve had rattled off to you when you asked what all he owned. Good.

You spoke up softly, not one much for words so early in the morning. “So’s this place yours?”

Bucky looked between your image in the mirror and the road, trying to figure out what you were referencing. “The bakery? Yeah, one of many places. And one of my favorites. Try the chocolate croissant if you haven’t had breakfast yet. It’s good.”

You nodded, sighing and gingerly opening the lid to be met by one of the best smells probably ever. You carefully pulled out a chocolate croissant and took a bite, holding in a moan at the deliciousness, but Bucky could see the enjoyment on your face, no matter how brief, due to the overwhelming weight of today sitting on your shoulders.

“Told you.”

You simply hummed in response, setting down the pastry and waiting to swallow to speak up.

“So, Bucket. I thought Gio was supposed to pick me up, but it looks like Steve lied again. Why you? Don’t you have better shit to be in charge of?”

Bucky was changing highways, so he kept his eyes on the road. He had half a mind to defend his best friend, but he didn’t want to open up that can of worms when you still had a couple hours of driving left. Plus, he knew it went farther than that, and it wasn’t technically his fight. Touching on your self-deprecation probably wasn’t a good idea, either. He’d leave that to Honeybee, much better versed in seeing you like this, he assumed. But from what he could tell, this seemed far from your normal self-assured, resigned state that he quite appreciated. He opted to comment on the dissection of your sentence that mainly had to do with him. That was probably a good domain to stay within for now. “You don’t have to call me that, y’know.”

You took another bite and shrugged. “What am I supposed to call you, then? James?”

“Bucky is fine.”

You let out a dry laugh. “No, that’s weird, what are you, a hick? -wait, actually, no. Forget I said that.”

Definitely not a good idea to make a distasteful joke such as that with where you both were going right now.

You shook your head looking down at the box. “But you still didn’t answer my first question.”

Bucky spun the wheel around the clover leaf and effortlessly merged on the open roads. “Gio’s on vacation in Italy, so you’re stuck with me. But don’t worry, Steve’s already on the road ahead of us.”

Well, he did what you asked, but you left his answer unacknowledged, besides a huff as you set the box aside. So much for trying to tread lightly.

“What? Decks, sweetheart, are you mad at me for bringing up Steve?” You crossed your arms and legs, glaring at Bucky and hoping it would set him on fire, sadly unsuccessfully, through the mirror. It was a good thing you weren’t a witch, anyway, though, because Bee would’ve killed you if it had worked.

“Ugh! What is up with that!? Everyone calling me ‘sweetheart?’ You, Sam, Steve! I’m not some little token helpless woman.”

Bucky opened his mouth defensively to reply, before closing it and furrowing his brows in thought at your full statement. “Wait a second, Steve called you ‘sweetheart?’”

You rolled your eyes yet again, and decided you weren’t done with that croissant quite yet, so you grabbed the box from your side and took another bite, not bothering to swallow this time before talking with your mouth full. “Yeah, like a few times, and then Sam did when he drove me home, and you did just now. What’s the deal?”

Bucky wished you weren’t sitting directly behind him, because he would’ve fully turned to look you in the eyes for this. He didn’t realize how serious it all was between the two of you, but he should’ve, considering how enamored he was, too, with his own girl. Obviously Steve was capable of the same thing.

“Swee- Decks. For Sam and I, that’s just how we were raised. I mean, Steve was raised the same way, but…” He stopped to think for a second so it came out the right way.

“Sure, you’re right, ‘sweetheart’ is a term of endearment for anyone in our community. Any guy will call pretty much any woman that, but not Steve. Ever since we were young, he refused. Said he was saving it. That it deserved to be used for someone really special. Someone with the sweetest heart. At least for him.”

You scoffed and questioningly shook your head. “Bucket, that is not me.”

He shrugged once again. “Maybe. And maybe that’s what you try to show, but to him it is. That’s you. He doesn’t take those things lightly.”

You grumbled, taking the last bite and licking your fingers before Bucky handed you a napkin. “I had it under control.”

He smirked, catching another whiff of Steve’s cologne when your arm reached up towards him. “Sure, ya did. Hey, when’s the last time you washed that hoodie? Surprised you wouldn’t wanna use that old thing as a napkin,” he said in a playful tone, laughter almost emerging from his voice.

Evidently you didn’t want to wash it. You wanted to keep it clean, let it have this scent as long as possible. After you crumbled the napkin, you threw it up towards him in the front seat before pulling your hood up.

Bucky swerved slightly, but not enough to cause concern. “Hey, watch it. I’m in charge of your safety up here. I’ve gotta deliver us both unharmed. It’s paramount.”

You’d just about had enough of this oddly chipper attitude from him. Bucky was very obviously excited to see Bee again and you couldn’t blame him. Their relationship was honest from the start. The small tinge of normalcy you’d had for a second started to wear off again, though, as that weight began to sink back onto your shoulders. You pulled your hoodie strings tight around your face, letting the smell and the comfort fully engulf you, and hoping to catch just a little more sleep before the long day ahead.

“Okay, whatever. Fuck off, Bucket.”

When you pulled up to the farm, you were gently shaken awake by someone who had climbed in the back seat with you so that they didn’t open the door you were leaning against and make you fall out. When your eyes fluttered open, though, you were met with a face you hardly recognized, causing you to spring into action and punch him right in the nose, not that hard, but also not that lightly.

The young man in flannel in front of you clattered into the back of the passenger seat, holding his nose, when you finally recognized him. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! You’re that kid who works for Bucky. Are you okay?”

He nodded, backing away and out the other side of the vehicle, scrambling to get away quickly, not sure if you’d hit him again, just based off association. “Yeah, yeah, all good.”

You could hardly hear him, voice fading as he ran into the house.

You took his words at face value, finally reorienting yourself to where you were now, seeing the green and gold landscapes and red barns outside your window. Right. Bee’s farm. For the bet. With the mob bosses. Gone was your concern as your angry face, or really more of an attempt of a flat affect came back.

You slid across the back seat, empty of the bakery box that was once there, and moved to get out of the door that was left open. When you emerged, you were met with the sight of Bee and Cherry picking through the pastries you had left behind, their nervously smiling faces lit up by the mid morning sun.

“Decks! Good morning! It’s so good to see you.”

Bee gave you a side hug you didn’t return and Cherry gave you a little wave before giving Curtis a little bite of her croissant. Gross.

Curtis thanked her with a kiss on the cheek before coming over to you and giving a bear hug, despite the way you tried to push him off. Eventually, you relented, relaxing in his hold, that of a long-time, good friend. He rubbed his hand against the top of your hood, messing up the hair underneath, before returning to Cherry’s side, grabbing his own pastry out of the box.

A small “hi” was all you could muster up to use to greet the three of them, but it was enough. You pointed over your shoulder to indicate you were going to grab your bag from the trunk, finally pulling the hood off your head and turning around. When you pivoted, though, you were only met with Steve there, your bag over his shoulder like it had been so many times before, his glassy eyes taking you in.

His voice was small and scratchy like you’d never heard it before, like he’d been silent for weeks, as he mustered up a, “Hey, Decks.”

You promptly spun back around and stomped into the farm house and up the steps, passing Bucky on the way to your usual room. When you opened the door, though, you were met with the sight of a young man sitting on your bed, ice against his face and a jolt when he saw you bust in.

“Uh, hi Miss Decks. Can I help you?” You groaned at the weird formality, but were in no mood for something like this to throw you off on such an important day.

“Yeah. You can get out of my room. You’re gonna share the other spare with Steve. No questions, okay?”

He simply nodded, beginning to grab his stuff as you stripped the bed of its sheets. He was actually complying very nicely, so you felt bad for being so assertive with him…and punching him in the face.

“So what’s your name and what’s your job?”

He stopped and looked at you, confusion and fear riddling his face. “I-I’m Peter, miss. I was assigned to stay here to help with shipments and watching over miss Honeybee. I just go wherever they say. Sometimes do tech, sometimes intelligence. Really anything.”

You nodded and hummed, pulling a new set of bedding out of the top of the closet. “So what exactly does that make you, Peter? Fourth in command?”

He cocked his head to the side, zipping up a bag, before helping you put on the new sheets. “I guess I never thought about that, but no. Technically I think I’d be fifth at least.”

You nodded along, grateful for the acquiescence that seemed to run through this organization and his kindness you were evidently not returning. With all the stress, though, you didn’t even really have the time to wonder who was number four. He finished gathering everything in his arms and sprinted out the door, across the hall to Steve’s room, before realizing there were three guest rooms and he might be able to take the last one, depending on where Bucky planned to stay. Out of indecision, he just dropped everything at the end of the hallway and went back downstairs, leaving you to lay over the comforter in contemplation. Peace wasn’t something that would come to you today.

It was early afternoon when Cherry finally came up to find you, not the person you would’ve expected to do so. She knocked on your door with a sweet smile.

“Hey, Decks. I know you’re probably in game mode, but Bee thought it might be a good idea for you to come over to my place. We can pick you out a nice outfit for tonight. Eat something, maybe? It’s my understanding you haven’t had anything since early this morning and apparently, from what I’ve been told, ‘the good stuff’ is waiting for you at my apartment. And it’s no boys allowed for this afternoon. You get to do whatever you need to get in the zone without distraction. How does that sound?”

You groaned before you nodded, launching yourself up out of the bed quickly to a seated position. “Yeah…that’s good. I mean, I already have an outfit, but that’ll be good. Let me just hit the bathroom real quick and I’ll meet you in the driveway, okay?”

She nodded with another soft smile and went back down the steps.

Soon after she was gone and you’d gathered what you needed, not even bothering to consider how your bag had made it to the corner by the doorway of your room, you shuffled over to the bathroom in your socked feet and washed your face. When you were all dry, you looked at your reflection in the mirror. It was you, but it was different. Not unrecognizable, but maybe barely.

Exhaustion laced your features. Dark bags had settled under your eyes from the lack of sleep. You were in a perpetual state of puffiness from all the crying you’d kept to yourself, yet everything just looked…sunken. Like, saggy with sadness. You smiled, trying to boost your mood, make it feel like you weren’t going through hell. Trying to put on a brave face for your friend and her world. Everything this whole week was a lot, and as much as you were trying to ice out the terror, you could feel it seeping through the cracks. One final smile and one final wipe of your nose, and you were ready to go, galloping down the staircase and out to Bee’s truck where she was already waiting for you. You slid up in the seat, squeezing Cherry between the two of you, and went on your way towards town.

When you got to Cherry’s apartment, there were bowls of pasta sitting on her small dining room table that must’ve been for you. Ah yes, that was probably ‘the good stuff’ she was referring to. Cherry immediately went to the kitchen to grab bowls and utensils, handing them to you and Bee, as you took in the scent of the the still-steaming arrangement.

Despite your feelings toward everything Steve lately, the gesture and nostalgia still warmed you. The three of you sat, as you savored every bite in silence, Bee and Cherry holding soft conversation on the side and respecting your wishes until the meal was done and you felt just a little bit better. A little bet fuller in your heart and your stomach.

You didn’t have to worry as Bee and Cherry assured you that they’d clean everything up, directing you towards the bedroom where you’d found something else sitting there, waiting for you to find it. It was a record player, just like the one in your apartment. The one you’d promised Steve you’d play the song on before you’d fallen asleep to that old movie. And next to it was a stack of vinyls, some you recognized as the same as your collection, plus some new ones you’d mentioned you liked before, but never got the chance to acquire. On the stack was a small sticky note that said:

“You got this, Decky. -SR”

You couldn’t help the way a smile crept onto your face at his thoughtfulness. Sure, you were mad at him, but this was far from a cheap gesture. It was just what you needed to fully lock in, and maybe raise your spirits to get through tonight and do this for someone besides yourself. You put on a record, mood brightening by the minute, and began swaying through the room until Cherry and Bee came in to meet you.

Their faces lit up seeing your slightly improved mood, this moment acting like a brief reprieve from a day constantly growing in intensity. The two of them began rifling through the closet, pulling out a bunch of outfits for you to try, and throwing them into a pile on the bed. At least you had your music.

When Cherry’s shift at the bar was set to start, the three of you drove over, you wearing a short, flouncy tennis dress that was far from what you were used to. The clothes you had packed for this evening were just jeans and a tee, but according to your friend, that wasn’t good enough, so here you found yourself in something completely out of character. At least it had shorts underneath.

You were about an hour early for the match, but the bar was already buzzing with patrons. As Cherry went to clock in, you could see the group of guys already sitting in the booth, talking in hushed whispers until you and Bee approached. Bee instantly gravitated towards Bucky’s lap with a kiss, and you were going to sit next to Curtis, but he stood up, passing you with a nod and heading straight for the bar with Cherry. So much for having a buffer.

You were left to sit next to Steve, your already nervous state making you shake and avoid eye contact, whether you wanted to or not. Bucky sat up, saying something about checking with guards and Bee followed him, leaving the two of you alone, sitting too close for how much room the booth had now gained.

You took in a shuddering breath, looking around the crowded room, seeing the pool tables and envisioning the event that was about to go down. You felt so isolated in that moment, before you felt a large, warm hand on your thigh.

“Decks, sweetheart. You there? You alright?” You looked up and to your side at Steve, the seclusion of the tall seats allowing him to be the only one who could see the tears in your eyes. Here you were, all dolled up at the hands of Cherry, about to ruin it, but that was the least of your worries. The pressure was about to crash over you and Steve needed to seal those dam walls before a flood broke out.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Why don’t you and me take a second to go into the break room or something? We have the time.”

You simply nodded and scooted out of the booth. Steve grabbed the hat off the top of his head, placing it on yours to hide your distraught face from any possible prying eyes before grabbing your hand and rushing the two of you across the dance floor.

He’d seen most of your range of emotions. He’d seen you playful, he’d seen you focused, he’d seen you happy, he’d never get enough of that, he’d seen you mad, probably more than enough for a lifetime, but he’d never seen you quite like this, with tears threatening to spill over.

Before you knew it, you were on an old couch in a back room you had never seen before, crying into Steve’s chest as he held you closely, hand rubbing your back, and shushing you gently.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You got this. Hey, look at me. You can do it.”

You pulled your hands up to wipe your eyes as Steve searched the room to find you tissues, dabbing away the wetness as you sniffled.

“Tell me what’s going on, sweetheart. What can I do to help? What’s on your mind?”

You tried to speak, but you were gasping for air. The farthest thing from your mind was anger at him, or the pet name. You just wanted comfort. Steve began demonstrating deep breaths in front of you, helping you to calm down until it worked. He started to blow a cool stream of air towards your face, drying more of the wetness, and rubbing his large, warm hands up your arms, redirecting your focus to the gestures. Finally you were almost fully settled and ready to talk.

“I’m just so…scared. Sure, I’ve dealt with things that were high-stress before, but never with this high of stakes. I didn’t ask to be dragged into all of this, but now the whole mess hinges on me. This entire thing. Legitimate lives are riding on me. That’s a lot.”

Steve nodded along. He got it. This was hard, and it was a lot of pressure, especially since it all came crashing towards you at once. He wished there was something he could do to fix it, to take some of that off of you, but he couldn’t. He felt like he was the reason it was all hitting so hard in the first place. All he could do was try and keep you pumped up, and ready to go for tonight. He knew you had a game face, maybe he could help you put that on so you could beat these pricks once and for all. Maybe that would be enough for him. He knew you were giving him a chance, just for tonight because Bee was mostly what mattered, and he was going to make the most of that opportunity while it lasted.

He ran his hand over your hair, pulling you close one last time and planting a kiss to your hairline before sighing and slapping his hands on his knees to get up.

“Alright, up we go. C’mon.” He held out his hand for you, but all you did was sit there and look at him confused.

“Unfortunately, you don’t have all night, Decky. Stand, or I’m dragging you.”

You must not have moved fast enough, because before you knew it, your floppy body had been pulled to its feet and Steve was slowly manipulating each part. He kicked your one foot back, widening your stance, and bent each arm, curling your fingers into fists. He moved in front of you, holding up his hands, flat and open, just like boxing practice. He bounced between his feet on the ground, shifting back and forth.

“Alright, go for it. Let’s see what you got.” You huffed, landing a weak punch against his palm, and Steve laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think so. Let’s go, Decks. I know you’re better than that. Harder. Get angry.”

And you did, you punched harder, you punched faster, and you were relentless, raging in a rain of fists, jitters long gone and replaced with a fire of fury. Fuck Cole. And fuck Lloyd. And fuck this whole fucked up mess of misogyny that threatened the livelihood of an innocent woman.

Steve grabbed your fists, snapping you out of it as you stood there, chest rising and falling with deep breaths. “There it is. Use that.” He looked at you intently, imploring you to be yourself, the confident, driven, capable woman he knew. You were back, if only for a few hours, but that was all he needed.

You settled yourself with a single breath, hands falling to your sides after you smoothed your dress and grabbed Steve’s hat back off where it had fallen onto the couch when you threw your head at his chest. You stood there with your eyes closed for a second. “Steven, do I still look okay? Bee said I have to look hot to distract these pieces of shit, and I’d hate to know that I’ve got a hair out of place. Please fix it before I go back out there.”

Steve smiled, just a little one he knew you couldn’t see, as he took a walk around you, tugging down the back of your dress and gently combing his fingers through your hair, taking his thumbs to swipe over your cheeks and fix the slight run of makeup from your tears. He gently grabbed the hat out of your tight clutch, playing with the brim. “You, uh…you want my hat? Would that make you feel better? Preserve an air of mystery and make you not have to look directly at the ‘pieces of shit?’”

You revealed a small, soft smile he thought he’d never see again and nodded, opening your eyes as he placed it back on your head, straightening it just so. He smiled just as sweetly when he saw you, actually saw you for the first time in awhile. Then, you weren’t sure what was happening as he squatted down in front of you, closing his eyes just like you had before.

“Okay, now it’s your turn to fix my hair before we go back out there. You messed it up when I gave you my hat.”

You strutted back out into the bar, face stoic, and stride powerful, your skirt flowing from the speed. Steve was a few steps behind you, surveying the area to see Bucky and Bee had returned, chatting with two men by the pool table.

You clocked them as well, not recognizing the two, but seeing one in an oddly crisp brown jacket, common for the area, but usually more beaten up on the folk around here, and the other in a knitted, collared shirt, nose pronounced by the neatly trimmed mustache underneath. Far too fancy for a place like this. These must be the men.

You walked up to Bee’s side, noticing her tight-lipped smile. “Decks, this is Cole, and this is Lloyd. He’ll be playing against you.”

You simply nodded, taking a step back. These men obviously had no desire for handshakes, only giving you a curt nod as well, as Lloyd stepped away, pulling a pool cue out of a case.

You rolled your eyes under the brim of the hat. Of course this rich prick had his own cue. You walked over to where Steve was at the rack of cues on the wall, looking at each and evaluating which one looked the best after years of wear and tear in the old joint. He pulled one down, wordlessly asking if it worked and you nodded, handing him a little block of chalk.

“Will you hold this for me throughout the game? And a glass of water please?” He nodded and headed to the bar, ready to be at your service.

When you returned to the table, negotiations had already been made and Lloyd was starting. That already put him at an advantage, but it would be fine, as long as he couldn’t get all the balls in on the first try.

His break was successful. Sharp, forceful, and precise: something that seemed mimetic of his pristine and obnoxious appearance. With two striped balls in the pockets, he went for the next one, and the next one, of your favorite suit. It was bad enough that you had to play solids, but he was surprisingly doing well. On his attempt for a sixth sink, though, he missed, giving you the chance to step in.

You took a sip of the water in Steve’s hand, rubbing the tip of your cue with the chalk in his other. You took a deep breath, leaning over the table for your first shot. It was the furthest thing from your mind, but Steve, and hell, everyone around, took notice of you bending over for it. Steve’s eyes quickly averted, though, going straight to Lloyd and Cole, as they were shamelessly gawking, doing what you’d said they would, and hopefully losing their if focus because of it. Your jaw ticked. You were angry, and you were focused, and you were fed up, and you were ready to go. There was no way you were going to mess up. You took your shot. Sunk.

That was followed by four more, easy angles, at least for you. You didn’t even look at the two men your were competing against. The only other person you could see in your zone of focus was Steve, if that, mostly because he was holding the materials you needed to win. Anyone else, anything else, was the enemy. Blocked. This was about winning, just like the years of swindling this game had set you up for. Seven hits, seven successes, one left, so you called the pocket. It was intense, and your face was unreadable. You took the shot, not even looking to see it go in, because you knew it would. Instead, your face was turned towards the two out-of-place men, your lips slowly growing smug as small crowd that had gathered around the table erupted in cheers.

You dropped your cue on the table, waltzing up to Lloyd as Bee stood in front of Cole.

You pointed a finger into the expensive fabric on the man in front of you and looked up into his eyes, dark like the deepest, deadest ocean.

“A deal is a deal and you just lost. Now hop off from my friend’s and all the other businesses I hear you’ve been harassing. Aren’t you guys all about your word?”

You were taken aback by the dark chuckle you were met with. “Oh, cupcake, that’s cute. You think I got this far on my word? No way. You may have won this fool’s game, but you all have yet to start mine.”

After gesturing over to Cole, he put his hand over his chest, dramatically gasping in a mocking manner.

“Oh no. Where’d your precious cheese curd go?”

Your head whipped over to the bar where you’d last seen him, but were met with the sight of an empty stool. Curtis was missing.

At this point, you didn’t care about the scene you were about to make, because that crossed a line. Curtis hardly had anything to do with this entire situation and they kidnapped him? Fucking why? Before you could even register what was going on, you lunged for Lloyd, trying to punch and scratch at him, but only hitting air. Something had caught you in the middle of your movement, picking you up, leaving you kicking and clawing at nothing, but you still had your voice. Curtis was innocent, and like a brother to you, and he didn’t deserve whatever this was. So you screamed, flailing in Steve’s arms, you’d know his arms and the smell of his cologne anywhere, but that wasn’t really what you were focused on right now.

“FUCK YOU, LLOYD! FUCK YOU AND THAT UGLY ASS MUSTACHE!! FUCK YOU FOR BREAKING A PROMISE!!!”

Out of the corner of your eye, even as you were backed away, you could see Cole shift and hold his hands up. “I swear. This wasn’t part of the deal. I was just doing what I was told. I didn’t know about any of this.”

You knew how much it sucked to be left out of the loop, but you still didn’t feel sorry. Cole was literally trying to commandeer the farm. He was far from innocent. You wiggled and turned as much as you could in Steve’s tight hold.

“And fuck you, too, Cole!! You ruined chocolate milk for me!”

The last thing you could see before the crowd descended was Bucky delivering a swift blow to Lloyd’s jaw, followed by him grabbing Cole by the collar.

Your attention was pulled to something else, though, by Steve’s hands on either side of your face once he had set you on a bar stool. “Decks, Decks! I need you to look at me.”

His nose was almost to yours. “I need you to watch Cherry. I have to go and check on the guards. See what happened out there and if Curtis is really gone. You need find out what happened in here. Take this.”

He slipped something in your hand that you had no idea how he concealed in the simple button-up denim shirt and jeans he was wearing. “Take out anyone who comes at you that you don’t know.”

You looked down at what was in your grasp: a small throwing knife. Without waiting a second, you snapped into survival mode, jumping behind the bar with Cherry. No one was around the two of you right now, luckily, as a full-on bar brawl had broken out.

You turned your body towards Cherry, but your head was on a swivel watching your surroundings. “So tell me what happened. When did Curtis disappear? Did you see anything?”

She frantically shook her head. “No, a-all I know is that some girl asked me to pour her a drink. She had a bunch of specifications, and when I made it and turned back around, Curtis was gone, and so was she.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What did she look like?”

“I don’t know? Kinda short, dark hair? Annoyingly fit? Now that I think about it, kinda like the female version of the guy you were playing pool against. That’s not a coincidence, is it?”

You threw your head back. It definitely wasn’t a coincidence. It was probably Lilian.

“Ah, shit.”

Next >

Bonus A/N: The moments between Decks and Steve here were much softer than I’d anticipated them to be, but there are so many different ways to act under stress, and I think it means a lot that she’s not necessarily able to stay in her normal cold manner of upsettedness when there’s so much at stake beyond just her. Things change when others are depending on you.

Taglist: @evie-119 @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @thedonswife13

[vermillionsappho]

Miss Americana | Ellie Williams x Reader

MISS AMERICANA | CHAPTER ONE

"They whisper in the hallway, 'She's a bad, bad girl.'"

-Y/N has always been a good girl, practically the picture of what it means to be an all-american girl, with her perfect, all-american boyfriend and life. She's never strayed from the path others expect of her; but after meeting Ellie Williams, the girl the people in her town whisper about, her life begins to change dramatically.

1.8k Words | sfw

Content Warning: cursing, drug use, sexual harassment, mentions of anxiety, threats, lmk if I left anything out!

Semi-proofread <3

You grin when you hear the loud bass of music coming from the Charger as it pulls onto the field. Grayson, your boyfriend hops out of the car, wide smile on his perfect face.

You giggle and take off, dropping your pom poms and running into his strong arms, as he lifts you up.

“What’s up baby?” He asks against your ear, and you giggle again before pouting.

“Missed you these last couple of days…how’s your training going?” You ask as he puts you down and he crosses his arms with a cocky grin.

“I mean, it’s going fucking good! Just can’t wait for the damn season to start.” He says, excited and you smile.

“We have a long summer before then.” You say simply and he nods.

“A long, hard summer. How’s your pom pom throwing and girl catching practice going?” He asks with a goofy grin, and you playfully push him.

“You’re so silly! But it was going well until you showed up and started distracting me.” You say, grinning up at him and he shrugs his shoulders.

Your best friend, Olivia, walks up behind you two with her hands on her hips.

“What are you even here for anyways?” She asks and he dramatically leans against his car.

“Well, since I’m the all-powerful, very famous and talented future quarterback for the biggest college in the state…I just thought I should invite my very pretty and talented girlfriend to this super awesome college party tonight.” He says, voice tinted with a drawl in a dramatic way, and you squeal.

It’s not like you haven’t been to a couple of small-town college parties before, but Grayson wasn’t lying- he truly is the one of the most famous football players in the state, already on the road for college football fame before his first official college game could even start. Not to mention, the university was huge and super freaking famous because of sports, so you definitely had a reason to be excited.

“Wow, that’s so cool! Thanks for inviting me.” You chirp, happily hugging him and he chuckles.

“I couldn’t show up to the hottest party of the year without the hottest girl by my side.” He says and you smile at him before turning to Olivia.

“Okay…practice is so canceled.” You say and she gasps, putting her pom poms on the ground.

“You can’t be serious! We need to whip these girls into shape or they’re gonna be a mess when we leave for college…you can’t cancel the rest of practice!” Olivia complains with a whine, and you fold your arms in fake annoyance.

“I mean, we need time to get ready since it’s almost six already.” You say and her jaw drops.

“What do you mean ‘we’?” She asks and you smile coyly at her.

“There’s no way I’m going to that party without you…girl let’s ditch this practice.” You say, pleading a little bit and she rolls her eyes. 

“Fine, I can never say no to you. Losers, go home, the rest of practice is canceled!” She calls out, and the rest of the cheerleaders begin to disperse, grabbing their things.

You both walk back towards Grayson, who’s still leaning against his car.

“Fancy giving us a ride?”

Your hair is put up into a pretty ponytail, a few misplaced hair gracing your forehead. Your lips are pronounced from the cherry red lipstick, and when the car finally parks, you turn to the back where Olivia and another friend of Grayson’s sits.

“Do I look pretty?” You ask, a shy smile on your face when Olivia gives you a thumbs up.

“Always! Come on girl, let's go.” She says, and you both get out of the car. 

The warm, summer air hits your skin like a kiss, and you pull down your mini skirt and slightly cropped t-shirt. Grayson and his friend, Jack finally get out of the car, and Grayson wraps his arm around your shoulders as you begin to walk towards the steps of the frat house. Outside, there’s crowds of people outside, smoking, drinking and talking, and Grayson notices a few familiar faces as he stops to talk to them.

“Gray…I’m gonna head inside, get a soda or something.” You inform him, and he barely even nods at you. You walk inside by yourself, the loud music, sounds and smells hitting you. You immediately try to push your way into the kitchen, trying to find something other than shitty alcohol. In the corner of your eye, there’s a girl leaning up against the counter, red solo cup in her hand. She’s…pretty, in a masculine way; sporting a short, mullet-like haircut. She’s wearing a wife beater and a red button up, the sleeves rolled up to show off her toned arms and intricate tattoo.

As you survey her, her eyes meet yours, and a weird feeling flows over you. You break eye contact and bend down, dipping your hand into a cooler to pull out a cold water. As you start to stand up straight, you feel a presence behind you, and you whip around, startled as your face to face with an unknown guy.

“Nice panties.” The guy snickers, and your face heats up. You start to speak, but your words come out in a jumbled mess, so you just ignore him and push past the guy, but his hand yanks your arm back.

“Hey, bitch, I’m talking to you, don’t walk away from me.” He says, and your body grows cold as you try to yank your arm back.

“I don’t want to talk, I have a boyfriend, please let go!” You whimper in pain, and the guy grips harder, before stepping closer to you.

“Yeah? And where’s he at? ‘Cause he’s pretty fuckin’ stupid for leaving his pretty little girlfriend here all by herself.” He mutters and you yelp and try to yank back again. “Want me to take you home? I’ll treat you so good.” He whispers, and you don’t notice the pretty girl move from her place on the counter because you’re so fucking terrified.

“Back the fuck off, dude. She said she’s gotta boyfriend.” A raspy, low, but feminine voice says, jolting you out of your fear.

“And what are you? The boyfriend? Get the fuck outta here, we’re talking.” The guy says, voice gruff and the girl comes from around the Island, leaning against the counter. As she leans against the counter, you can see a small metallic glint peeking out of her pocket.

“Don’t be fucking stupid, asshole. Leave the girl alone.” She says lowly, a dangerous tilt in her voice and the guy finally let's go of your arm, to your relief and you back up against the wall as you watch him step to the girl.

“Or what? You gonna hit me?” He asks sarcastically and she smoothly reaches into her pocket and flips out a switchblade and your eyes widen.

“C’mon, dude. It wasn’t even that serious.” The guy says frantically and the girl chuckles, before closing the blade.

“Hmm, yeah, that’s what I thought. You better get out of here…” She says, and the threat hangs in the air, even as she slips the knife back in her pocket. The asshole walks away tensely, sneaking another gross look at you before stepping away finally.

You exhale heavily, feeling the anxiety melt off of you as he leaves, and you finally meet the girl’s eyes again.

“Thanks…for that.” You utter softly and she smiles, a crooked smile, before tilting her head at you.

“It’s nothin’, the dude was a creep.” She says simply and you nod, twiddling with your perfectly manicured fingers.

“You alright?” She questions and you sigh and shake your head. There are a million things running through your head right now, and you’re completely perturbed by that creepy ass guy so you’re definitely not feeling the party anymore.

“Do you wanna…do you want to get some air with me? I came here with my boyfriend, but I haven’t seen him since we came and…I feel weird.” You ramble nervously, and she brushes one of the many stray auburn hairs from her face, face unreadable.

“Yeah, why not.” She says, shrugging her shoulders, walking past you and you follow behind her like a little puppy.

Once you're outside, she props herself against the hot brick wall, and you watch her as she reaches into the pocket of her button up to pull out a joint. She wordlessly lights it and places it between her scarred, pink lips; you watch her as if you’re under a spell, looking away when she finally exhales the smoke and glances at you.

“Wanna hit?” She offers and you awkwardly chuckle and look down, embarrassed.

“I don’t- I’ve never…smoked before or anything like that. I wouldn’t know how.” You say, voice quiet and she walks over to where you’re standing and holds the joint out. 

“It’s okay, I’ll tell you how to do it. It’ll calm you down.” She says and you blink up at her. She gently moves your chin up, before tapping on it. “Open…and you just breathe it in, real easy. Then you hold it, like you’re taking a deep breath, and exhale it out.” She whispers, placing the joint in your open mouth, to which you struggle, but manage to follow her instructions, successfully taking a hit of the joint.

“Atta girl…” She smiles, before taking the joint from your lips and putting it between her own again, looking in your eyes as she does so, and for some reason, it makes you feel dizzy; or maybe that’s just the weed talking.

Then, the back door opens, revealing Grayson, who’s eyes widen.

“Shit, Ellie, you got my girlfriend high?” He complains and Ellie (?) shrugs her shoulders.

“We were just talking dude, can’t have just anybody smoking my shit.” Ellie says casually, blowing smoke out and Grayson has a look on his face that you can’t decipher.

“Talking about what?” He questions, coming to pull your arm gently, his body and jaw tense.

“Just small talk. I came out here for a smoke, and she came out here for some fresh air…nothing deep or serious. Anyways, I’m heading out, I got some shit to handle.” Ellie says, meeting your eyes and giving you a small smile before heading out of the door. When she’s finally gone, Grayson drops your hand and turns to face you, eyebrows furrowed.

“You shouldn’t hang around people like her, Y/n. Ellie’s not good company to keep.” He says hardly and you stare at him in confusion.

“It was just one small conversation…and why not? She’s just some girl.” You say, a little irritated but intrigued.

“She’s a low life drug dealer, that’s what she is…and she’s a freak and I don’t want to catch you hanging around her anymore, got it?” He mutters angrily and your lips move into a hard line.

“Yeah, got it, Grayson...fine. Can we go now, please?” You ask, voice tired, and he swings his arm over your shoulders.

“What? No, are you insane? The party just freaking started.” He says with a chuckle, leading you back into the party, much to your dismay.

This was going to be a long night.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Tbh not sure how I feel about my writing on this chapter so far :( but I'm excited about where I'm heading with this story, and it's my first attempt at a series soooo I'm being positive lol

But chapter 2 should be otw soon, let me know if you enjoyed chapter one!

As always, likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

#Ellie Williams x reader##Ellie Williams smut#lesbian#the last of us fanfiction#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie x reader#ellie x you#ellie williams #wlw fiction#ellie x fem!reader #bisexual #vermillionsappho #vermillionsapphoworks

[fairlyang]

Death of me 🏹

w/c: 2.2K

pairing: kate bishop x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. teasing, strap usage, sucking her strap, fucking, daddy kink, orgasm denial, somno mention

notes: my text series💔💔 could only save this one bc I actually wrote it down on wattpad</33

Y/n💕

whatcha doingggg

Katie💜

watching hallmark movies w lucky

Y/n 💕

ew-🤢🤢

Katie💜

why:(

Y/n💕

they're corny af

Katie💜

but but romance:(

Y/n💕

we can find you better romance movies baby...

Katie💜

Well what are you doing?

Y/n💕

nothing much

wanna see something?

Katie💜

sure angel<3

Y/n💕

:D

You quickly snapped a picture of yourself in a purple matching set with a white cardigan. You sent it and she immediately responded.

Katie💜

NOT AGAIN

FUCKING SHIT

speechless

Y/n💕

I love leaving you speechless <3

Katie💜

You won't keep getting away w this...

god you're killing me

Lucky is looking at me weird for groaning

I'm getting on my knees for you rn

Y/n💕

love the sound of that..

but I wanna see it fr

Katie💜

yeah really?

want me to come over huh?

Y/n💕

maybe...

I want your head between my thighs eating me out desperately like you always do and I wanna pull on your hair to feel you moan against me

Katie💜

that's what I wanted to hear

good girl

I'm coming over

Y/n💕

lucky????

Katie💜

he'll be fine

he already ate his pizza and I walked him

Y/n💕

Actually y'know what nvm

maybe tmrw

Katie💜

you're fucking joking right?

no no no no we're doing this tonight

Y/n💕

I'm tired

Katie💜

I'm tired:(

my ASS

THEN WHY DID YOU TEXT ME

AND SEND ME THAT PIC

you were not tired at all

Y/n💕

well now I am:(

Katie💜

you better be fucking joking

do you want me to beg?

Y/n💕

I wouldn't be opposed...

Katie💜

HA YEAH RIGHT

I'm five mins away

Y/n💕

??????

——

You were lying in bed when you sent that last text and you were petrified of the thoughts, ideas, Kate was thinking of right now.

You've been teasing her for days on end lately and she hasn't been playing too much with you because of it.

In general anyway.

But now, she was coming over.

Lord knows the things she has in mind now.

You took off the cardigan you had on and threw it on to your dresser before getting up and opening your bedroom door.

Excited but also anxious to see what Kate comes up with tonight. Or the type of mood she's in.

Giving or taking.

You plopped back onto your bed and calmed your nerves, laying down against your pillows and made yourself think she'd go easy on you.

Suddenly your thoughts are washed away when you hear the front door of your apartment open. "Oh you think you're so funny don't you?" Kate's voice echos through the apartment, waltzing in before making her way towards your room as you sat up and watched her.

You bit the inside of your cheek and gulped, the raised eyebrow was seen from afar and with just that you knew this wasn't going to go like you wanted.

She walked into your room wearing a hoodie and grey sweatpants, the bulge of her strap making a very noticeable indent that had you salivating. "C'mere, you tease." She says and you move to the edge of the bed.

She shakes her head and takes a step back, you hop off the bed, getting on your knees in front of her. You look at her crotch, her purple strap barely being visible through the light grey sweats she loves to tease you with.

"Look at you already acting like a good girl as if you haven't been bratty all fucking week." She mocks making you shiver, eyes still on her bulge.

"Look at me." She says and you bite your lip, slowing looking up to meet her pretty blue eyes.

She bucks her knees down a bit and brings a hand down to cup your cheek softly, the opposite of her tone when she spoke, "Tell me how desperate you've been for my attention."

She sounded so demanding, so bossy, so fucking hot.

You were unsure on if you should just keep up with the brattiness or not. Deep down you knew you weren't going to give her what she wanted.

That was too easy.

And you were technically already in some deep shit for the amount of teasing you'd been doing.

She promised some 69 last night and it didn't end up happening so you wanted to tease her again today.

Didn't work out as expected and now you didn't know how to play this.

Suddenly she pulls her hand away and snaps her fingers in front of your face, "Tell me."

You gulp and right there decide your fate and slowly shake your head no.

Her eyebrow arose again and her eyes went wide, nearly falling out as soon as you moved. "Ah so that's how we're playing it tonight huh angel?" She scoffs and moved a hand down her body, leaving it right on top of her bulge.

Your mouth watered and you watched with amusement and excitement in your eyes as she slowly started stroking it through her sweats.

You kept your mouth closed and your heart was racing just looking at her hand stroking her strap, the ultimate tease.

A silent rule to watch and that you weren't allowed to touch.

Mostly to see how long it'd take for you to break. Then she'd decide where to go from there.

An endless cycle from the amount of times you've had the urge to be bratty.

And it happened very often.

But she never complained. She secretly loved it if anything. She loved the so called "challenge" of testing you.

Seeing how far you could stick with your decisions before you beg for her to do something. Or let you do something.

Like right now where she could tell you wanted her cock. The way your lip trembled, eyes darkened, and the biggest indicator being how you squeezed your thighs together.

She wasn't going to break.

She never did.

If Kate was anything it was stubborn and in a situation like this, it always worked in her favor.

And you always broke.

"Kate please-" you burst out and she only scoffs, then clicks her tongue before speaking.

"That's a new score angel." She teases softly before bringing both hands on the waistband of her sweats and pulls them down.

Her cock springs up and you immediately put your hands on it but she shakes her head. "Stick your tongue out for me."

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out while letting go of the strap. She grabs it and smacks the tip on your tongue one time then again and again.

You flutter your lashes at her making her groan and tilt her head back. "God you look so fucking hot." She moans and looks back down at you.

"Gonna take my cock like the dirty girl you are, aren't you?" She murmurs and you nod.

You open your mouth and she thrusts her hips forward, making you instantly gag until she pulled back. She continued thrusting into your mouth but did it slowly.

She grabbed a fistful of your hair and made you take all of it until you were gagging on it again. You closed her eyes and felt her hands on the back of your head leaving no chance for you to escape but just accept your fate.

You take the entirety of her cock until she finally felt nice enough to let go of you and lets you pull away. A string of saliva dripped down to your chin then to your tits. "So fucking hot." She groans and wipes the saliva off your lips and puts her hand on her cock.

She strokes it, adding the saliva she picked up turning you on so much more than you were before.

You stick your tongue out and she slaps the tip on it again while you make direct eye contact with her.

"That's my pretty girl. So perfect and good when she wants to be." She coos making you squeeze your thighs together.

Your wetness seeping through your panties because you just couldn't help yourself.

"Let me use that mouth of yours angel." She murmurs before lowering her strap and placing it in your mouth.

You start sucking on it and stroking what you can't fit at first until you slowly but surely take all 8 inches. That's when Kate starts thrusting her hips forward purposely making you gag on it. You close your eyes and she continues, slow at first but then gradually increasing her pace.

She's moaning as she's fucking your face and you so badly want to see her face. So you open your eyes and look up at her, ignoring the tears that are forming and take the throat fucking she's giving you.

She looks down at you and her eyes rolls back. Her hands went back down to your head, making you stay still while she thrusts her hips faster.

The room is filled with the sounds of your gagging and Kate's moans and praises.

You not so secretly loved when Kate would do this, because she's definitely not forcing you, she just knows you too well to know how much you love this.

Suddenly she lets go of you and you take a deep breath before she quickly pulls you up from the floor and pushes you to the edge of the bed. She makes you lay down flat on your stomach with your feet still on the floor.

She lets go of you and takes a few second to admire you. Looking at the pretty purple lacy panties you wore with the matching bra, just for her.

Her hands go down to the thin waistband of the panties and slowly slides it down. You spread your legs a little and feel cold air against your slit as she brings it all the way down.

Your wetness completely drenched the panties and she didn't have the patience for more foreplay. You looked just about ready to take her and she desperately wanted to fuck you.

And she was luckily feeling nice and didn't feel the need to ask you to beg for it.

So she first rubbed the tip along your folds, wanting to lubricate it with your juices. She then slapped it from your slit and even down to your clit making you squirm.

"Fuck-" you moan and lift your ass up, desperately needing her inside you.

She then pulled back a bit and liked the tip to your entrance. At first making it seem like she'll take it slow and right when you were gonna complain about the torture she slammed into you.

"So tight for me huh pretty girl? Been needing daddy's cock?" Kate groans pulling out before pounding into you.

"FUCK — F-Fuck yes- yes daddy." You moan out and she moans, hands now gripping onto your hips while she thrusts her hips into yours.

"Dirty fucking girl." She groans and fucks you harder.

You let out a cry and nod your head. You bring your arms up and leave them in front of your face then place your head on them so she could hear your moans properly.

"Fuck daddy- always f-fucking me s-so good." You whimper making her moan.

"Sound so pretty angel. Just for me huh?" She purrs and you feel yourself clench around her cock.

"Only for you baby." You mumble and she starts slamming her cock into you harder.

You choked up and let out cries while she now starting hitting your g spot. "Holy fuck- oh god please-" you cried out and stuck your ass up.

Not even a second later her hand connected to your left cheek and you felt a hot sting before feeling it on the other side as well. "Shit!" You hissed then sighed when she massaged it.

"Taking my cock so well baby girl." She groans and smacks one cheek after the other.

"Fuck daddy." You cry and grip the blanket on your bed with one hand while the other is keeping your head up.

You felt that all too familiar feeling in your abdomen and you were trying your hardest to not fall because your legs were starting to shake.

It felt so good and it was like she hasn't done this in months but in reality it's only been a week maybe a little more but that was too much time without her fucking you.

Pure torture but all the brattiness paid off.

Until she stopped.

You whined and turned around when she pulled her cock out. "Kateeee-"

"You think you were gonna get rewarded for your bratty attitude all week? You're crazy." She says and smacks your ass again.

She then grabs your legs and helps you on the bed making you glare at her. She shrugs and gives you a face before she hops in next to you.

You were so fucking close and she just stopped????

What kind of psycho does that???

You faced away from her but that didn't stop her from first taking your bra off then from wrapping her arms around you.

You still felt her cock against your ass so you had a feeling she was plotting.

And oh was she.

She grabbed her cock and lined it up to your entrance making you gasp. "Maybe I should just cockwarm you all night... bet you'd love the feeling of being stuffed while you're asleep." She purrs into your ear and you felt goosebumps all over your body.

"Yes please- fuck please." You cried and she slipped it in.

"Maybe I'll move once you start falling asleep..." she trails on and you instantly closed your eyes.

"Do I have your consent?" She asks making you scoff.

"Absolutely- the least after what you did to me." You mutter and she smacks your thigh before wrapping her arm around your stomach.

[spectralscathath]

Tour Guide to the Unexplained- A Gravity Falls Fanfiction

Chapter 2- Blue Light Fright Night

Stan and Ford didn’t expect much when getting shipped up to Gravity Falls to stay with estranged family. Not a party-hating ghost, not new friends and new enemies, and definitely not the Mystery Shack and their lying uncle who runs it. But with Ford’s smarts and Stan’s punching, there’s no mystery they can’t solve.

Ao3 Link

"I can't believe it," Ford scowled as he restocked the snowglobe shelf. Little mini Mystery Shacks mocked him as they sat beside glass-encased Waddleses. How did Grunkle Dipper even get question mark-shaped glitter for these? "Gnomes on our first day- then we don't see jack!"

"Maybe we fought the gnomes so well they told the rest of the forest to be scared of us?" Stan polished the body parts jars on the other side of the aisle. 

"I think you're giving yourself too much credit."

"Hey-" Stan kicked him in the shin. Ford kicked back without thinking, focused on trying to get all the snowglobes lined up perfectly. "Maybe we're just looking in the wrong places? It's only been three days since gnome-pocalypse."

"We're not calling it 'gnome-pocalypse'. It was only a hundred or so gnomes. An apocalypse would require at least a thousand." He was rounding down as well. 

"Fine. What are we gonna call it then?"

"Uh-" 

"So are you guys coming to the party tonight?" Carla interrupted as she came around the corner, her nametag pinned to the front of her pink shirt and a flower in her hair. 

"Party?" Ford looked at her, setting down the final snowglobe. 

"Yeah!" Carla beamed and did a little dance in place, hopping from one foot to the other. "It's at the high school gym- the local sheriff sets up one every month for all the teens and it's super fun. You should totally come and meet all my friends- it'll be awesome!"

Ford's breath caught in his throat, an indescribable mixture of wonder and excitement filling him from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. A real invitation to a real party. They'd never had one before! And here Carla was, offering an invitation like they were normal . Like it didn't matter that Ford had six fingers and Stan had the school record for detentions. 

"Yeah, we'll definitely be there!" He blurted out immediately, unwilling to let the opportunity of a lifetime slip by. "Wow, this is so exciting- Stanley, our first party!"

"Have you… never been to a party before?" Carla's face fell. 

" Pfft - of course we have," Stanley jumped in, waving a hand. "He just means in Gravity Falls, yunno. Jersey parties are really different so-"

"Oh, totally. But get ready, a Gravity Falls party is gonna knock your socks off!" Carla was all smiles again. Ford could see the reason why Grunkle Dipper had her as a cashier, she had a very upbeat demeanour that seemed popular with the tourists. The way she talked to them, able to get them smiling and laughing and telling her stories about their travels, she made it look so easy. Like talking to people was easy. Ford wondered how she did it. 

Maybe if he asked, she'd let him observe and record her interactions for science?

"Earth to Sixer-" Stanley poked him in the face and Ford spluttered, swatting at his hand. "You okay in there?"

'I'm fine!" Ford looked around and adjusted his glasses. "Where'd Carla go?"

"A tour finished so she's gone to do her charm offensive on getting them to buy junk," Stan shrugged. "Are you sure you want to go to a party?"

"Yeah!" Was that even a question? "Don't you? Why did you lie to Carla? We've never been invited anywhere before."

"Listen, Fordsy," Stanley put an arm around his shoulders. "When people invite you to do stuff you haven't done, you gotta pretend you have, or else they'll think 'wow, what kinda losers are those guys, never going to parties'. You wanna be in the in-crowd, go along with the popular decision if you don't wanna stand out."

"How do you know that?" Ford scrunched his nose. It seemed unnecessarily complicated, wouldn't honesty be the best policy in any conversation?

"Just makes sense," Stan shrugged. "Now Carla won't be thinking, 'those guys must be lame', she'll be thinking we're cool dudes back home."

"But we're not?"

"Yeah, but you shouldn't say that." Stan patted his back. "Do you really wanna go?"

"Of course! This is a chance to meet the wider population of Gravity Falls, and I bet with all the anomalies in this area, I won't even be the weirdest thing anyone's seen today!" He'd always wanted to go to a party. Like a regular kid. Maybe Gravity Falls wasn't so bad. 

"You're not weird," Stan scowled. "If any of them give you trouble I'll hit them."

"Stanley, mom said one week. You still have three more days." Ford reminded him. 

"Blegh-" Stanley stuck out his tongue. "Now we just gotta convince Grunkle Dipper to let us go."

"Why would we need to convince him? Surely he'll understand how important this is to our preteen social development."

#

"Not a chance." Dipper didn't even look up from the pasta sauce he was stirring. 

"What?!" They yelled in unison, Ford looking like all his dreams crashed and burned and Stan slamming his hands on the kitchen table. He hid a wince. Toughen up, Stan. Be a man. 

"It's a cop party, no nephews of mine are going to a cop party." 

"Grunkle Dipper, do you have something against cops?" Stan had to ask.

"I didn't agree to more questions."

So the answer was a yes. Cool. 

"But Grunkle Dipper-" Ford whined. "We've never been to a party before and we told Carla we'd be there. Please?"

"Okay, here's the thing." Dipper turned around and pointed his pasta spoon at them, pajama pants and a threadbare sweater on. It was silly. It had a puppy on it. "Grenda throws these parties once a month for all the teens in town, and because everyone's kids are there, all the townsfolk treat it as a social event. It's loud, annoying, and seriously not worth your time."

"But we could be party rocking in the house tonight." Ford said it with all the sincerity in his soul and Stan wanted to know how his nerd of a brother had found out about songs that weren't from the 1700s or whenever.

"What?" Dipper's face scrunched before he shook it off and went back to mixing pasta sauce and spaghetti. "Let me explain: I don't 'like' or 'trust' most of the people in this town, and the feeling's pretty mutual. Why don't you just have a party here? This is a house, it can- it can 'party rock'."

"Can we invite people?" Ford perked up.

"No."

"Grunkle Dipper!"

Stan hid a snort-laugh as he watched, studying Dipper more so than Ford, head tilted to make sure he didn't miss anything. There had to be a magic word of some sort to get him to agree. He didn't trust the townspeople, hey?

"If you don't like anyone here-" he cut off Ford's rant about the 'psychosocial development of twelve-year-old brains' before it really got going- "then the smartest option is to bring us into town when everyone's gonna be there." Stan shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world, playing up the casualness. 

Dipper looked at him with suspicion. "What's your game, kid?"

"That way you can point out who to avoid and who we should keep an eye on so we can recognise them. I mean, we're gonna need to go into town eventually, might as well get it over with."

"... Alright, that's not a bad point." Dipper nodded, brow furrowed. Stan gave him an absolutely angelic smile, well practiced for when mom busted out the camera for family photos, and Dipper's brows furrowed harder.

"So can we go? Carla invited us as well, it would look bad if we went back on our word. And you said you wanted us to have a good summer."

"Okay, okay, okay." Dipper groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, serving up three plates of spaghetti as he joined them at the table. "You can go, but if Sheriff Grenda asks about me, tell her I'm dead or whatever."

"Yes!" Stan punched the air. "Yes!"

"What?! How is that the conclusion of this?" Ford looked stunned, mouth hanging open.

"Your brother drives a hard bargain, kid," Dipper pointed with a plastic spork. All his cutlery was plastic and Stan thought it was weird, no metal, no forks. But  it was the durable, colourful kind used for camping. "Eat your pasta and we'll get this over with."

Stan shoveled the pasta into his mouth, enjoying the taste of victory. Whaddaya know, for once Stan got them the win. That was never gonna happen again.

#

Ford's excitement only grew as they drove into town, staring out the window and trying to see anomalies in the dark. Stan kicked the back of the empty passenger seat and tossed his head back with a groan. "Why are we listening to BABBA?" 

"Because I love this song." Grunkle Dipper turned it up a notch and sang along, badly. Ford winced at the falsetto of "Dis-co Girl! Coming through! That girl is you!"

"Get me outta here!" Stan's next kick used both feet. "If you're listening, save me, Paul Bunyan!"

"Calm down, Stanley, we're almost there!" Ford could see all the cars parked outside the high school, and a giant RV with GIDEON across the side that towered over everything else. "What's that?"

"First people in this town you need to avoid: Gideon Gleeful and his lil b-" Dipper growled, cutting himself off before continuing- "Bud Gleeful. Gideon's the worst, they're just a creepy pair. Just got back from touring America with their fake psychic act."

"Okay." A fake psychic. Just like their mom. Ford missed her, she promised she'd call every week but it didn't feel like enough. "Anyone else?"

"Preston Northwest is about your age and a piece of work?" 

"I thought you'd have more enemies." Stan grinned mischievously.

"Those are just the child ones." Dipper hooked an elbow over his seat and looked back as he reversed into a parking space, wearing one of the baseball caps from the gift shop with a pine tree logo. His denim jacket and pajama pants clashed terribly with his 'dog playing basketball' sweater. Ford hadn't seen him wear the same sweater twice, but they all looked decades old, handknitted, and far too irrational for him. Perhaps he had some ancient sweater collection?

"How many adult enemies are there?" Stan unclipped his seatbelt as the truck stopped. 

"Don't you have a party to go to?" Dipper waved a hand at them. "Have fun and don't die or something. I'll be here when you want to leave."

"Thanks, Grunkle Dipper!" They chorused and hopped out, Stan racing around to Ford's side of the truck. 

"You ready?" He took Ford's hand for a second, and Ford snatched it back, trying not to think about his hands. It was gonna be fine, this wasn't Jersey. People here would like him. 

"Race you in?" He offered instead, shoving his hands into his pockets just in case. 

"You're on." Stan grinned and took off. He might have been better at punching, but they were both pretty fast from a childhood of dodging bullies. Usually it was a tie. 

This time Ford got there first by mere seconds and paused, able to feel the thud of the music inside in his ribcage. Of course- soundwaves were physical, that only made sense. He was about to lift his hand from his pocket before hesitating. His first party. Did he want to start off with a bad impression?

Stan caught up and pushed open the door. "After you, Sixer."

Ford smiled gratefully at him, stepping in as the smell of dry ice and cheese flavouring hit him. The gym was big, all the bleachers tucked away, and while there was no disco ball, someone had set up projector lights that sent rainbow shapes and lazers everywhere. The room was surprisingly full, and Ford had a sinking feeling they arrived late. "Were we meant to be here earlier?"

"Don't worry- it's cool to arrive late, I heard." Stanley stuck by his side as they stood in the doorway. "Should we find Carla? She's the only person we know here, I think."

Ford had a thought. A bit of a mean thought. Did he want his first impression on people to be Stanley as well? Not that Stanley was bad, Ford loved his brother more than anything, but his nicknames might give people the wrong idea, and the other way around- Maybe Stan would want to meet people without having to talk for Ford as well?

"We can split up, do a sweep on each side, and meet on the other end of the gym." He felt guilty saying it, but he couldn't help being interested in what would happen if he made introductions on his own for once. It was an experiment. 

"See who spots her first so we can talk to her, good idea." Stanley nodded. "Race you there."

He took off through the crowd to the right, leaving Ford to his own business and taking the other. He didn't move as fast as Stanley, keeping his hands in his pockets as he avoided the major crowd and skirted the edges. His head swivelled like an owl's as he looked around, trying to see anyone who might be safe to talk to. 

He saw something sparking near the wall and immediately remembered the various dangers of electrical hazards, resolving to check it and report it to the nearest grown-up- oh, but if that was Sheriff Grenda, Grunkle Dipper said not to talk to her-

Ford didn't really want to do what Dipper said, but… what if he got angry at them for disobeying?

More sparks. He blinked, regaining his focus, and sped up, noticing they were tucked beside the folded bleachers, hard for people in the crowd to see, hidden by the fog of dry ice. 

There was someone there. Two someones. Ford drew closer, in time to see a blowtorch light up and be lowered to a piece of metal. 

"What are you doing?" He blurted out, the two teenagers looking at him. It was hard to make out clear details in the dark hall, but the one leaning against the wall held a plastic bag of sliced bread, and the boy on the floor had a welding visor over his face. 

"Hi there!" The boy stood and flipped his welding mask up, revealing round glasses, a thin face, a long nose, and a friendly smile. "I'm Fiddleford McGucket, local inventor."

"You're an inventor?" Ford smiled. "Me too! I mean- I'm branching out into the field, I'm currently working on a magnet gun."

"Well that sounds mathematically feasible, I reckon." Fiddleford offered a hand to shake, absolutely covered in bandages.

Ford stared at it. "Uh- won't that hurt if I touch it?"

"I've got an un-nat-ur-al-ly high tolerance to pain, doctors say," he laughed, singsonging each syllable in a playful Tennessee twang. "Don't mind the bandages, all from my thingamajig building."

Ford hesitated just a moment longer before he pulled his hand from his pocket and shook Fiddleford's hand.

"Why, that is a mighty fine case of polydactyly you got there." Fiddleford complimented. 

"Th- thanks." He stuttered, in utter shock. No one had ever actually complimented him on it before. Most people didn't even know the term. "You too- I mean- not polydactyly, just thanks?" 

"Thank you kindly, and this here's my friend, Tad."

"Hi, I'm Tad Strange." The deepness of the other boy's voice had Ford reeling. Was that natural? He looked barely older than Ford, with shiny black hair and very neat clothes. He had to be the most nondescript person Ford had ever seen. "Would you like some bread?"

"Uh- okay?" Ford took some of the offered bread. Plain white sliced, from a grocery store. Was he meant to eat this without anything on it? Well- okay, he could try. "Do you carry this everywhere?"

"Of course. It's my emergency bread."

"Oh. Cool?" It didn't seem normal, but maybe it was for Gravity Falls? His hypothesis was correct, he was an anomaly in a town of anomalies! He could fit in here! "I like your voice."

"Thank you." Tad smiled. Ford liked his diction, how deliberately he spoke, how even his voice was. It seemed so calm. "It broke when Tad Strange was seven."

"If we're talking about weird body things, I'm double-jointed?" Fiddleford offered and pulled out a pair of black goggles, a matching pair to the ones Tad had pushed up into his dark hair, hard to see. "Here, put these on, I'm working on improving Tad's phone. I reckon I can really spruce it up."

"Tad Strange would like jetpack capabilities." 

"Yeah! I'd love to help!" Ford's smile was so wide it hurt at the edges, so excited he feared he may explode. Not that it was scientifically possible. 

Was this how easy making friends could be? 

#

Stan plunged into the crowd like a superhero charged through henchmen, keeping his head cocked in case he heard Ford get in trouble. He had to be always ready for bullies, Ford could have all the hope he wanted, as long as Stanley protected him. 

He squinted through the dark, not able to see too much in the weird party lights, lots of pinks and blues and kinda dark. He didn't really like his glasses much when he had to wear them, they were nerdy and made bullies throw stuff at him. He could see most things anyway, just blurry, and as long as he could get the gist he could work with the rest. 'Sides, no point in him having glasses anymore, amount of fights he got in.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and he swung without thinking, catching air. Carla's laugh was bright and cheery. "Easy, tiger! Didn't mean to surprise you."

"Sorry." Stan mumbled. He wasn't as noble as some of the boys back home, who didn't hit girls. Seemed insulting to Stan, if they wanted to fight they should get to fight. But Carla wasn't like the girls back home, he didn't want to hit her. 

"C'mon, my friends are this way." Carla took his hand and pulled him through the crowd. Her hand was warm around his, and she didn't even hesitate. Known him four days and still took his hand. Wow, she was nice.

She pulled him to the snacks table, piled high with chips and chocolates and one very big lady in a cop uniform serving punch. Carla let go of his hand and spun around to face him, her skirt twirling as the lazers made the sequin design on it sparkle, and Stan suddenly got why Shermie used to get so weird around girls. Holy Moses.

"Stanley Pines, meet my besties!" Carla gestured at the group. One girl was spinning in place with an eye closed, two boys were having a string cheese war that looked more like flirting than fighting, the other girl was filming, and the last boy was cheering everyone on. "That's Shandra, Susan, Daryl and Edwin, and Tyler! Everyone, this is Stan!"

"Hi." Stan nodded at them, getting a nod back from the girls and Tyler. 

"And- wait, where's your brother?" Carla looked worriedly at him. "Didn't he come?"

"Course he did! Just went to scope out some of the party," Stan played it off, even as he looked around. What if Ford was already getting picked on? "He'll catch up."

"Okay, cool!" Carla looked up over the crowd and brightened. Didn't seem possible but she managed it. "There's Bud! Hold on, I'll get him." She dove into the crowd again, leaving Stan with her friends and no idea what to do.

He grabbed a random bar of candy to eat to avoid having to make conversation, shoving it all in his mouth in one go. He accidentally made eye contact with the cop and looked away too fast. That was probably suspicious. What was it Grunkle Dipper said? Don't speak English to cops?

Carla came back to the group with a wave, her hand entwined with another boy's. "Okay everyone! I need to introduce you all to my new boyfriend, Bud Gleeful!"

Stan was real dumb. Shoulda seen that coming, obviously Carla had a boyfriend. Little weird that it was one of Grunkle Dipper's enemies, but it was Stan's own fault that he got all weird just because the prettiest, nicest girl he ever met thought he was worth being kind to. No point being disappointed because he got stupid. 

"What a delight to meet you all," Bud smiled cheerfully, his brown roots visibly showing through white hair dye. Stan turned his back and started eating more candy.

The other teens offered a chorus of uninterested 'hi's, still focused on their cheese fight. Looked like Blubs was winning, if the goal was to spray as much cheese as possible in his mouth? 

Stan was starting to get why Grunkle Dipper didn't bother with the town, he was not impressed so far. Except by Carla, but she worked in the Mystery Shack so she didn't count. 

"And who might you be, lil fella?" Bud drawled from behind Stan, which had his hackles up and his fists clenched, ready for a fight. Bud was twice his size, but so was Crampelter, and Stan had won that last fight. He wasn't weak and useless anymore, he wasn't the wimp that cried after just one hit, not now that he could fight.

He turned around, feet shifting into the stance from his boxing lessons as he looked up at the bigger teenager. "I'm Stan. Who wants to know?"

"Why, just 'lil ol me'-" he spoke it like a quote- "it's merely just- well, small towns, I tend to know near-everyone. But I don't recall seeing you here before."

"He and his twin are Dipper's nephews and they're in town for the summer," Carla smiled, clinging to Bud's arm. "They're here all the way from New Jersey, how cool is that?"

The other teens looked a bit more interested hearing that, looking at him like he was an oddity, something to gawk at. Was this how Ford felt? All the time? 

"Yeah, what about it?" 

"That's quite a distance," Bud whistled. "Would I be right in assuming you're staying in that old shack in the woods?"

"Where else would I stay, smart guy?" Stan mouthed off, focus narrowing to who else might be coming in for a sneak attack. Crampelter had friends, maybe Bud did too. "My Grunkle lives there."

"Yes, a so-called man of mystery," Bud clicked his tongue. "He's quite a shameless fraud, wouldn't you agree?"

"Coming from someone who's dad is a fake psychic?" Stan aimed for what would hurt, because it hurt when he thought about it. "What a liar, bet you can't trust anything he says."

Everyone gasped. But they didn't know. He loved his mom so much, so much , but she lied so much, just because, even when there was no reason. She didn't mean any harm, but… 

"Hey now, that's not true!" Bud snapped, getting angry, and Stan regretted saying anything when he saw the look on Carla's face. She looked at him like he said something bad. He did say something bad. He was a bad kid, everyone knew it. 

What was he doing? He was ruining the party, he was making everyone upset, and Ford wasn't here, Stan needed him and he wasn't here, and why did he instantly make it a fight? Because Dipper said not to trust someone?  What was wrong with him?!

He had to get out of here. He pulled a smoke bomb from his pocket and hoped and prayed he got it right- got something right- and threw it at the ground. 

It shattered with a flash and a POP! and sent up a cloud of smoke and sparkles that had everyone coughing, and Stan bolted. 

He ran, sticking to the walls and the shadows, passing a supply closet as he looked for Ford. Where was his brother? 

He was rounding the bleachers when he heard Ford laughing. At what? He slowed his steps, peeking around the corner to see Ford holding a blowtorch and soldering something, laughing and talking with two other boys. He looked like he was having a great time. Without Stanley.

Stan felt the bottom drop out of his stomach, fists clenched tight and shaking with that energy he got in fights. Ford had some sciency name for it that Stan couldn't remember right now. 

Ford was fine. He found people who liked him. Just like he wanted. Stan was tempted to go over there and say hi- but if Ford wanted that wouldn't he have come and got Stanley? Ford always wanted to show off cool things he found, he dragged Stanley all over Glass Shard Beach, so this must mean Ford didn't want to show off his new friends. 

Stanley could take a hint. Heck- Ford would probably be better off with friends who were smart like him. Stan just caused trouble, everyone knew it. 

He backed away, genuinely considering sneaking out to go sit with Grunkle Dipper. Even if that meant listening to girly pop music. 

Actually-

Nah. Still not desperate enough for that. He still wasn't sure if Grunkle Dipper even wanted them around, Shermie had been the one to push for the trip. Even brought the bus tickets. 

Everyone else kept making decisions and Stan kept having to deal with them. He scowled and found the supply closet again, because at least Carla and Bud wouldn't find him in here if they wanted to get mad at him for causing problems. 

He closed the door behind him and shoved over the nearest thing, sending janitor supplies clattering to the ground as he yelled, just to get the energy out. "I never even wanted to come here! Ford did, not me!" 

He turned and punched the drywall. "I hate stupid parties!"

The drywall cracked. Cracked more. Fell away to reveal a big boxy safe hidden behind the plaster, rusted and covered in dust and cobwebs. Stan had a suddenly cold feeling, a looming sense that he'd done something very stupid. 

A girl's voice whispered in his ear.

"Me too."

#

The screaming started as Dipper chewed a pen, brainstorming new attractions for the track. He caught the smell of ectoplasm in the air, able to recognise it instantly, and shoved open the door to his truck, sprinting towards the gym as a pale glow began to surround the building. 

He could hear the panic of the townsfolk,  his focus set on the door as he raced the ghostly energy, trying to get in before it cut off the gym from the outside world. The boys were still in there.

"No, no, no, no-!" The ectoplasm covered the door right as he reached it, the handle chilling his fingers as he failed to yank it open. He kept trying to jiggle it open before he switched to banging his fists against the glass. "Kids!"

"My lil Buddy-boy!" He heard from behind him, Gideon Gleeful running in his bedazzled suit, his white pompadour bouncing with each step of his wingtip shoes.  Dipper ignored him and braced his shoulder against the door, trying to shove it open. Now wasn't the time to start fighting his nemesis. Maybe? He could multitask.

"Hold on, son!" Gideon panicked before turning to the crowd, hand on his bolo tie. "Everyone, please! I need you all to step back and let me use my psychic abilities! Step back, everyone!"

Dipper felt himself step back before he could snap at Gideon to back off, watching Gideon raise his hand to the building.

"Spirit! I compel thee! Release our children and be banished from this place!" Gideon's voice boomed out bombastically, bringing his TV psychic bravado to the real world.

Nothing happened.

Obviously.

"Oh no! Something's blocking my powers! My innate abilities! That I definitely have!"

"Yeah, yeah," Dipper snarled and pulled a glove from his pocket, yanking it on as he stomped to the door. "Hey, ghost! Open up!" 

He drew back his fist and punched the door, the ectoplasmic coating jiggling like jello before it started to wobble faster, energy building up. Bad sign.

Dipper had enough time to swear for real before the ghost blasted him away from the building and into darkness.

#

One minute Ford was helping solder an ignition wire, the next the walls were glowing and tables and chairs were floating in the air. Snacks were flying, aimed at people's heads as screams filled the air, and Tad had to struggle to hold onto his bread as it threatened to fly away too. 

"What's happening?" Fiddleford clutched his hands together, rubbing at his spindly fingers. The rest of the party were freaking out, some rushing the doors, others trying to hide, some freezing in fear. 

Ford? Ford felt alive . This was it, the weirdness he knew was here. 

"Hold on, I may have an answer-" but the diary was so uncool-looking, what if his new friends didn't want to be his friends because of it? 

"Ford!" That was Stanley! "Ford, Ford, Ford!"

"Over here!" He responded without hesitation, because that was his brother calling and Ford would always answer. 

Stan rounded the bleachers and skidded to a stop, worn sneakers nearly losing traction on the smooth gym floors. His eyes were wide and he almost looked scared. Couldn't be true though, Ford had documented Stan's phobias and fear responses. Paranormal activity wasn't meant to register. "It's bad! It's really bad!"

"Wait-" Ford adjusted his glasses. "Stanley, did you do this?"

"I didn't plan on it, Sixer!" Stan flipped a switch into anger, shoulders hunched defensively. "I think it's a girl! I heard a voice!"

"A voice? So not only is this clearly paranormal activity of some form, but it's aware enough to manifest vocals and self-identify? Fascinating!"

"Uh, Ford? Who's this?" Fiddleford tapped him on the shoulder.

"Oh!" He'd completely forgotten they were there, so caught up in the supernatural. "Fiddleford, Tad, this is my twin brother, Stanley. Stanley, these are my friends, Fiddleford and Tad."

"Hi. I'm Tad Strange. I like bread."

"Yeah, great to meetcha, the nerd book , Ford, what does it say ?" Stan made a swipe for Ford's jacket, where he knew the book was. 

Ford backed up. "I don't- I haven't looked yet!"

"Why not?!"

"Because-" laughter, vicious and dark, rang out around the room, and Stan whirled, hand out like he was protecting Ford and his friends. Ford stared as Carla lifted into the centre of the room, her eyes glowing white from within and her arms outstretched.

She spoke with a voice that wasn't hers. "Sixty years I've watched you all party! Now tonight will be your last!"

"Hey!" Sheriff Grenda stomped forward and pointed at her. "You're under arrest for possession! Get outta that teenager!"

"Adults," the ghost scoffed, crossing Carla's arms. "You threw this party? Then I'll throw you!"

Carla pointed as Grenda was enveloped in pale light before she seemed to- rip apart? But it looked wet? But there was also no blood or anything, her matter was just rearranged? That was so cool! Oh- and bad too, right.

"Sheriff!" 

"Where did she go?"

"It turned her into a disco ball!"

It had. Ford had never seen a disco ball with a face before. He wanted to take so many notes.

"Back behind the bleachers, c'mon!" Fiddleford dragged both the twins to the corner he and Tad were hiding in, sitting them down as they hid in the shadows. It wasn't much of a hiding spot, but the panicking crowd likely drew more attention. 

"Poindexter!" Stanley grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "You gotta focus! How do we stop this?"

"Okay." He pulled out the diary and started flipping through, face burning. He hoped Fiddleford and Tad didn't laugh at the sparkliness of it. "Ghosts, ghosts, I know I saw something- here!"

He cleared his throat and began reading the sticker-covered page, googly eyes pasted onto a drawing of a happy ghost.

"Dear diary,

I fought a ghost today! It was crazy! He was really cute, definitely dreamy, but he was also a major meanie who wanted to destroy town, so dateability: questionable. 

Good thing I saw some of her ghost hunting tapes, otherwise I wouldn't have kicked ghostly butt! I bet this one would have counted as a Category 5, so kind of a ghost wimp. Lemme list the categories before I forget! Womp womp!"

Ford scanned through the categories before he found it. "This must be it! 'Category 8: Haunted Buildings- these ghosts are stuck in one place and make reality go all whoa! But they can't actually hurt people permanently and you can totally work things out with them by talking about their feelings, awwwwww' and then there's a heart drawn in? And people hugging?"

"We're all gonna die," Stan decided. 

"Stan, you have to tell me how this happened. Maybe there's a clue there."

"I just hit a wall." Stan shrugged, looking away. "Same as always."

"Perhaps we should ask the ghost what it wants?" Tad offered as a solution, looking abnormally calm while Fiddleford was having a silent freak out next to him, rocking back and forth and carding his hands through his hair. Ford felt a bit bad to see him so nervous, he must not have encountered an anomaly before. 

"I think it's pretty easy to tell what the ghost wants, Strange." Stan snarked.

"I WILL DESTROY ALL THE PARTY SPIRIT THAT HAS EVER EXISTED!"

"Yeah, that bit's obvious," Ford agreed. "It says that Category 8s aren't unreasonable, so maybe we can convince it to leave everyone alone?"

"We have to get it out of Carla," Stan agreed and took Ford's hand. Ford blinked at him in surprise. Stan must have really been scared, they hadn't held hands in a while. His fingers were trembling. 

Ford didn't let go this time. Not if Stanley needed it. He squeezed his twin's hand and pulled them both out of hiding, the room nearly empty from everyone being turned into party favours and posters and stuff. Carla's body floated, items swirling around her like a tornado, her flower missing from her hair. 

"Hey, ghost!" Ford yelled as he and Stan stepped up. "We wanna talk!"

"Oh?" Carla's body raised a hand and they were both floating. Ford felt Stanley's hand go tight in a death grip, hard enough to hurt. His fear of heights, Ford had to do something. The ghost continued, making Carla's face angry in a way that didn't look right. "What do you possibly have to say? Here to defend parties like everyone else?"

"I- we wanted to ask why you're unhappy!" Ford blurted out. "We want to try fix it!"

"How can you fix it? You were invited to this party like everyone else, I bet you've been to lots of them, everyone has! Everyone but me!"

"No we haven't!" Ford tried to convince her. "Tell her, Stanley!"

"I-" Stan's eyes were scrunched shut, face pale and sweaty. "We haven't! Look at us, we're losers! Who'd invite us anywhere?!"

Everything in the gym stopped spinning. Then it all crashed to the ground, Stan and Ford included. Stan immediately dropped to his knees and pressed his face to the floor, while Ford landed a little steadier. He placed a hand on Stanley's back and looked up at Carla, or, more accurately, at the ghost that had appeared, holding Carla up by the shoulders.

She looked like a normal teenager in retro clothes, just with thick glasses like Ford. 

"You're losers like me? But you don't look like it!"

Ford held up his hand and wiggled his six fingers. "I'm definitely a loser. And my brother…"  they both looked at Stanley, currently muttering 'sweet Moses, I love you ground'. 

"But if you're losers, then why are you at a party?" She scowled and adjusted her glasses. "Especially when one of you hates them."

"Huh?" Ford looked at Stanley, feeling betrayed. Stanley didn't like parties? But he was the one who convinced Grunkle Dipper, and said they'd been to lots to Carla, and-

And, Ford suddenly remembered, dodged the question about wanting to go in the first place.

"Stanley?"

Stanley looked away and swiped his nose with his wrist brace. "Whatever. So what if I do?" He pointed at the ghost. "Why do you hate them?"

The ghost gave a very big sigh and Ford braced for backstory. "No one in this town ever invited me to anything."

"Even all of the parties that were meant for everyone, I would get an anti-invitation. An unvitation ." The ghost floated just above the ground, looking sad.  "So one day, I decided that I would ignore my unvitation and go to a party meant for everyone."

She tilted her head. "Unfortunately, that party was to celebrate Gravity Falls' Annual Heavy Object Tossing Competition, and a safe landed right on me."

"That can not be a real thing-"

"It's real!" Sheriff Grenda, in disco ball form, yelled out. "I've won it eight years in a row!"

"Okay…?" Ford shook his head, resolving to ignore that. "So you've been here ever since?"

"Yes. I've watched people party for sixty years here!" The ghost began to turn red and catch fire. "And still! No invitations!"

"What if we invited you?" Ford offered.

"Or Carla!" Stan blurted out. "Carla over there, you just possessed her. She's super nice and will invite anyone. She invited us, for cryin' out loud."

"Oh. Okay." The ghost floated over to Carla, sitting on the floor staring blankly into the middle distance, hugging her knees to her chest. "Hi Carla! Can I come to this party?"

"Uh…" Carla looked over at them, frazzled and ruffled. Ford nodded as hard as he could while Stan gave her very emphatic thumbs up. Carla looked back to the ghost. "Sure...?"

"Great!" The ghost snapped her fingers and everything went right back to normal. People turned back into people, Grenda was no longer a disco ball, and the music started up again. "I've always wanted to go to a party! Whoo-hoo!"

"Can I ask you a million questions about being a ghost?!" Ford asked now that the danger was gone, pulling out a spare notepad and pencil, not noticing Stan walk off.

#

Stan picked up Carla's plastic flower and held it out to her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure?" Carla accepted the flower, putting it in her hair. "I think my whole worldview just changed."

"Yep." Stan hesitated, fidgeting with his wrist brace. "I'm sorry I said mean things to Bud."

"Oh. Well- thanks, but I think you need to apologise to him, okay?" Carla smiled at him and stood up, brushing off her skirt.

Stan nodded and scuffed his shoe against the floor. "I will."

"Thanks. You're a good kid, Stan." She patted his shoulder. "And for the record: I don't think you're a loser, you or your brother. Jersey doesn't know what they got."

"Kay." Stan agreed because how was he meant to argue that? Not when Carla was smiling at him like she believed it, like she wasn't so cool. "Thanks, Carla."

"Carla!" Bud shoved through the crowd, flowery shirt looking a bit rumpled. "Are you alright, dearest-darlingest?"

"I'm fine, really!" Carla beamed, taking Bud's hands. "Stan and Ford saved me."

"I can see that." Bud shot Stan a filthy look. 

"Hey, Bud." Stan shoved his hands into his pockets, having to drag the words out of himself. He didn't like apologising much. Usually it didn't help things. 

"Can I help you, Stanley?" He made it sound utterly frigid. 

"Sorry for what I said about your dad and stuff. It was mean." Stan looked away, looking at Ford, who was introducing the ghost to Strange and McGucket. At least he was having fun. 

"I… suppose I'm also sorry about what I said about your great uncle. It was uncalled for." Bud tugged at the collar of his shirt. "Perhaps we should call a truce?"

"Sure. Truce." Stan stuck out his hand, too late realising it was his braced hand. 

Bud took it, squeezing way too hard and making the bones hurt. Stan didn't flinch and dug his nails in as an answer. 'Truce'. Sure. When Carla was around, at least.

"Yay!" Carla did a happy dance. "The power of friendship wins again!"

They both put on a smile for her, immediately shooting daggers at the other the moment she wasn't looking. Looked like they'd be hating each other in secret. Stan could live with that.

"I'm gonna go check on my brother." Stan yanked his hand back and walked off, already sick of Bud Gleeful. He was joining his Grunkle's rivalry on the side of his Grunkle. 

#

They found their Grunkle Dipper snoring in the back of his pick-up truck, having one of those old people naps he usually had in his armchair. Ford poked his face with a pencil, not expecting him to bolt upright and immediately fall out of the truck with a surprisingly girly scream.

"Augh! Dipper down! Dipper down!"

"Grunkle Dipper, we met a ghost!" Surely he saw the building glow, right? He'd believe Ford now!

"Huh?" Dipper rubbed his head, accidentally showing off the birthmark on his forehead of the Big Dipper constellation. He picked up his cap and set it down, blinking blearily up at Stan and Ford. "You what a what?"

"Met a ghost. Fought her, invited her to a party, whole shebang," Stan yawned. "Can we go home now?"

"I made friends!" Ford already had so many plans. "Can they come over for a sleepover tomorrow? They already called their parents and asked!"

"Sure and sure?" Dipper dusted off his pajamas, surprisingly dirty for a nap in his truck, and Ford noticed something.

"What's that glove?"

"Glove?" Dipper looked down before he noticed the blue glove on his right hand. He made a weird face before he pulled it off. "Uh, it's a- a compression glove? Yep! That thing! For my old man arthritis. Flares up sometimes. 'Cause I'm old."

"Aren't you fifty-seven?"

"I'm whatever age a senior's discount at the movies is," Dipper snarked, and Ford scowled. That felt sorta illegal. Definitely unethical.

"I like your moxie, Grunkle Dip," Stan complimented as he clambered out of the back of the truck. "So did you see any of that?"

"Any of what? I've been sleeping." Dipper blinked innocently.

"Oh, come on!" Now Ford really had to find proof of the supernatural. Time to build a gnome trap.

He reached for Stanley's hand again, resolving to talk to him later about stuff. Stanley squeezed his hand back, smiling at him before he yawned again. 

Ford yawned in response. Okay. Tomorrow. They'd talk tomorrow. Stanley shouldn't have to feel like he needed to hide things, not from his brother. 

Mystery twins forever, after all.