#there’s always something more to sell you

[systlin]

I've got a question about beekeeping that I think is probably dumb, but I couldn't really find a definite answer anywhere online. And you keep bees, so I figured you might know. Some background:

A friend of mine recently told me she doesn't eat honey because she was told beekeepers kill their bees at the start of winter because it's more lucrative to start the new year with a fresh hive, apparently because the one they used that year is supposedly to exhausted from being overworked or something.

now from what I know about bees, that is probably bullshit. I think someone somewhere might have confused the thing about all the drones getting chased out at the start of winter maybe? But the point was made that maybe hobby beekeepers don't, but industrial beekeepers do. I can't find anything anywhere about how industrial beekeeping works and if it's any different from hobby beekeeping apart from in scale. And I do always think it's weird how cheap honey in stores can be if I look at the work that goes in honey and the fact that I think you can harvest honey from a hive 2 times a year or so?

basically, I think she's very wrong about this and want to be able to convince her otherwise. (or be very very surprised and learn she was right but I doubt it) I don't want to be a bitch about it to her because you can't really fact check everything you hear all the time. but this is just. such a weird idea to me.

(this may have turned into more than one question and I'm now interested in bees a lot, so if you wanted to infodump about a ton of bee related info I didn't ask for too I certainly wouldn't mind)

It is 100% prime bullshit

Bees are fuckin expensive. A package of 3 pounds of bees is $160+. A nuc is $200+. New hives usually don't even produce honey the first year. The first year is letting them settle in and build up. Hives that have wintered over at least once are the ones you can actually harvest honey and wax from.

No beekeeper is going to kill their bees. Even if they're utterly amoral profit driven weirdos, that's simply not how it works. It would be absolutely absurdly expensive.

Most beekeepers who do it professionally don't make money from honey. They make their REAL money from pollination services and from selling bees. AKA, swarms. AKA, those things you only get from overwintered hives. See prices of a new colony above.

The older a colony is, the more valuable it is!

[l4ndonorizz]

first date gone wrong / lando norris x reader

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: videoclub - roi

summary: a chaotic first date with Lando Norris—from spilled wine to fire alarms—turns into an unforgettable night, proving that sometimes, disaster leads to the best moments

wc: 1.5k

You had been waiting for this night for what felt like forever. After months of playful banter, lingering looks, and not-so-subtle flirting, Lando had finally asked you out. When he suggested dinner at a trendy new restaurant in the heart of the city, your excitement had skyrocketed. You spent far too long getting ready, agonizing over what to wear, how to do your hair, and if your nerves were showing.

This was Lando Norris, after all. Charming, witty, and undeniably attractive—not to mention one of the most talented drivers in Formula 1. The thought of this date being a disaster hadn’t even crossed your mind.

But perfect was far from how things were turning out.

The first sign of disaster came when Lando texted you, telling you he was running late. Something about getting stuck in traffic after a last-minute sim session. Typical. Still, when he finally showed up, his sheepish grin and casual apology had you forgiving him instantly.

“Sorry, love. I swear, the city just conspires against me,” he said, pulling you into a quick hug before stepping back to give you a once-over. His eyes widened, clearly impressed. “You look...wow.”

Your cheeks heated at the compliment, but before you could respond, the maître d’ cleared his throat, reminding you both that you were, in fact, standing in the entrance of a fancy restaurant, blocking traffic.

Once seated, things seemed to fall into place. The restaurant was beautiful—dimly lit with a warm, inviting atmosphere. The soft glow of candlelight flickered between you, and the background noise of clinking glasses and murmured conversations created the perfect ambiance. Lando, dressed in a casual suit jacket and his signature charm, leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, clearly ready to dive into the night.

“So,” he said, flashing you a grin, “how have I managed to convince you to actually go out with me?”

You rolled your eyes, playing along. “Convince me? More like I was waiting for you to finally get a clue.”

Lando let out a bark of laughter, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Fair point. I guess I’m a bit slow off the line sometimes.”

The conversation flowed easily, as it always did with Lando. He made you laugh without even trying, and before you knew it, you were both swapping stories about your lives, joking about past experiences, and sharing little pieces of yourselves that you hadn’t before. It felt effortless—like you’d been doing this for ages.

That is, until the drinks arrived.

As the waiter set the glasses down, one of them tipped slightly, sending red wine spilling all over your lap. You gasped, pushing your chair back in shock as the cold liquid seeped into your clothes.

“Oh, no,” you muttered, trying to dab at your dress with a napkin.

Lando was instantly on his feet, grabbing napkins and doing his best to help. “I’m so sorry! I’ll—uh, I’ll get them to bring something else. Can we get some towels?” he called out to the waiter, who looked equally mortified.

You couldn’t help but laugh. It was a ridiculous situation—your carefully chosen outfit now stained with wine—but the way Lando was scrambling to fix things made it impossible to be upset. “Well, at least I didn’t wear white.”

Lando grinned, though his eyes were full of guilt. “I swear this never happens…except for that one time I spilled water all over my steering wheel during a stream.”

You chuckled. “You’re not exactly selling yourself here.”

“Stick around. I promise I get better,” he said with a wink, his teasing easing the tension.

Once the wine debacle was resolved, things seemed to settle again. The waiter brought fresh drinks, and you resumed your conversation, laughing about the incident. But as the evening continued, so did the mishaps.

Just as your food arrived, the fire alarm went off. You stared at each other in confusion, until one of the waiters rushed over, explaining that someone in the kitchen had overcooked a dish, and the smoke had set off the alarm. The entire restaurant had to be evacuated.

You and Lando found yourselves standing outside in the chilly night air, arms crossed as you waited for the chaos to die down. The sight of him, bundled up in his jacket with his hair slightly tousled from the wind, was somehow even more charming.

“Well,” Lando said with a wry smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is going well.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Is this part of your plan? To make this the most chaotic date ever?”

Lando grinned sheepishly. “What can I say? I like to keep things interesting.”

The restaurant staff eventually got the situation under control, and you were allowed back inside. Your food was still warm, surprisingly, and it looked delicious. For a few blissful moments, it seemed like things were back on track.

Until, of course, Lando knocked over his drink. Again.

The glass tumbled across the table, the contents spilling everywhere. You reached out instinctively, trying to catch it, but it was too late. The drink splashed onto the floor, and in a comedy of errors, the waiter—already flustered from the earlier fire alarm—slipped on the liquid, sending the rest of the meal crashing down with him.

You and Lando sat in stunned silence for a moment before both of you burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Well,” you managed between giggles, “at least the food didn’t end up in my lap this time.”

Lando leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m officially the worst date ever. Like, this is rock bottom.”

You wiped away a tear from laughing so hard and gave him a sympathetic smile. “I don’t know, I think this is pretty unforgettable.”

“Unforgettable in the worst possible way,” he groaned, though you could see the humor returning to his eyes. “I swear, I’ll make it up to you. How about a second date? One where we don’t destroy an entire restaurant?”

You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest. “Only if it ends with a McFlurry.”

Lando chuckled, nodding. “Deal.”

By the time you both finally finished the salvaged portions of your meal, the restaurant staff had given up on trying to maintain any semblance of order. You could feel the eyes of the other patrons on you, some clearly entertained by your evening’s chaos, while others just wanted you both out of there before another disaster struck.

When you left the restaurant, the air was cool and crisp, the city buzzing quietly around you. Lando reached for your hand as you walked down the street, his fingers lacing with yours as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“This is turning into the weirdest night,” you said with a laugh, glancing up at him.

He smiled, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “I don’t know. I think it’s one of the best.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Even after everything that went wrong?”

Lando shrugged, his gaze softening. “Yeah. Because I’m with you.”

You rolled your eyes at the cheesiness of his comment, but your heart still skipped a beat. You had to admit—there was something charming about the whole mess of a night. It was chaotic, unpredictable, and far from perfect, but somehow, it felt like exactly what you both needed.

As you continued walking, the conversation turned light again, the easy rhythm between you returning as you joked about the disaster of a date. But there was an undercurrent now—something deeper that hadn’t been there before. The casual touches, the lingering glances—it all felt like more than just playful teasing now.

By the time you reached your car, the energy between you had shifted. Lando stopped, turning to face you, his hand still wrapped around yours.

“Thanks for not running away mid-date,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You smiled, stepping a little closer to him. “Hey, I like a bit of chaos. Keeps things interesting.”

He chuckled softly, his gaze dropping to your lips for just a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again. The playful banter from earlier was gone, replaced by something heavier—something that made your heart race.

“I guess…chaos works for us,” Lando murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could respond, Lando closed the distance between you, his hand gently cupping the side of your face as he leaned in. His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, like he was testing the waters. But when you kissed him back, the hesitation disappeared, and the kiss deepened, warm and full of the unspoken feelings that had been building between you for months.

The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing there, lost in the moment. His other hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily.

“Well,” Lando said with a breathless chuckle, “I’d say that was the best part of the night.”

You smiled, your heart still racing. “Yeah. I’d say it was worth all the chaos.”

[gilbertscurls]

Crispy Beginnings ➵ Matt Sturniolo

summary: you and matt spend the first day of fall together.

The first day of fall had always held a special kind of magic for Matt. Something about the crispness in the air, the changing colors, and the cozy vibe of the season made it his favorite. He had spent most of the morning excitedly preparing, and now, as the sun dipped lower in the sky, he stood at the edge of the park, waiting for you.

You had planned to spend the entire day together, and Matt couldn’t wait to show you why fall meant so much to him.

You arrived, bundled in a soft, oversized sweater, your breath visible in the cool afternoon air. Your smile lit up the moment you saw Matt, who was already holding a cup of hot apple cider for you.

“You came prepared,” you said, taking the warm cup from him with a grateful smile.

“Of course,” Matt grinned, pulling his hoodie tighter around himself. "Fall is my season. I’ve got to do it right."

You wandered down the path, surrounded by towering trees that were beginning to shed their green for vibrant shades of orange, red, and gold. The air was fresh, with just the faintest hint of wood smoke wafting from somewhere nearby.

“Is this why it’s your favorite season?” you asked, watching as Matt took a deep breath, clearly content. “The smell of everything?”

Matt chuckled. “That’s part of it. But it’s more the feeling of it, you know? The way everything feels more… Alive, somehow. Like, everything slows down but feels richer, more meaningful.” He glanced at you, his voice softening. “It’s hard to explain.”

You nodded, understanding what he meant even if you couldn’t put it into words either. You loved fall too, but seeing it through Matt’s eyes gave it a new kind of charm.

You stopped at a small stand selling fresh caramel apples and bought a couple to share, laughing as you bit into the sticky sweetness, caramel clinging to your lips. Matt wiped a bit off the corner of your mouth with a teasing grin, and you playfully swatted his hand away.

Later, you found a cozy bench tucked away from the main path. As the sun started to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and purple, Matt wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close.

“I get it now,” you murmured, your head resting on his shoulder. “Why you love fall so much.”

He glanced down at you, his smile soft and full of warmth. “It’s even better when I get to spend it with you.”

You looked up at him, your eyes shining in the fading light. “Maybe fall is my favorite season now too.”

You sat there in comfortable silence, watching as the leaves gently fluttered to the ground around you, the world feeling both vast and intimate in the glow of fall’s embrace. For Matt, fall had always been special, but now, with you by his side, it felt like the beginning of something even more magical.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom

[fannyyann]

Matthew Tkachuk on friend, former teammate Johnny Gaudreau: ‘I’m going to keep his memory alive’

FORT LAUDERDALE, Fla. — Matthew Tkachuk, reigning Stanley Cup champion and prince of South Florida, was bouncing off the walls at the Baptist Health IcePlex on Tuesday. He delivered light cross-checks to his Florida Panthers teammates and led the pack in conditioning drills, and his mouthguard received its customary chomping.

It appeared to be business as usual for the young star who is always occupied with something, whether it be selling the sport in Florida or partying with the Stanley Cup all summer.

Right now, that might be for the best.

Tkachuk’s dream summer turned into a nightmare when he learned of Johnny Gaudreau’s death on Aug. 29.

Gaudreau and his brother, Matthew, were killed in a traffic crash in Oldmans Township, N.J., outside Philadelphia. Police said the brothers were riding bicycles when they were hit by a driver trying to pass an SUV on a two-lane road.

Tkachuk and Johnny Gaudreau played together for six seasons with the Calgary Flames, a couple of American kids taking western Canada by storm, often on the same line. The two left the Flames in the summer of 2022, Gaudreau signing as a free agent with the Columbus Blue Jackets, while Tkachuk was sent to the Panthers in a blockbuster deal.

Tkachuk, whose life has been a whirlwind for months, hasn’t had enough time to process Gaudreau’s death in the month since it happened.

“You put so much work into a season, that’s where all of your energy goes,” Tkachuk said. “Then you make the playoffs. You make the Final. And then, when it was over, we got to celebrate this summer. It was the greatest summer of my life, and some of the most incredible memories were made. But then, right at the end of this amazing summer, the unthinkable happened.”

Gaudreau took Tkachuk under his wing in Calgary, and a forever friendship was formed. Understandably, Gaudreau is on Tkachuk’s mind every day, but that was already the case long before Gaudreau was gone.

“Ever since I left Calgary and came to Florida, all I ever do is tell stories about Johnny,” Tkachuk said. “At one point, I was probably telling the guys down here a Johnny story once a week. I was always talking about him, about something funny he had done, something he had done in practice, whatever. He was the kind of guy that you could never get out of your mind, and I hated being away from him.”

Gaudreau and Tkachuk talked all the time after leaving Calgary, and while they badly missed playing together, they looked forward to having another opportunity to wear the same jersey and maybe even play on the same line.

The NHL 4 Nations Face-Off — a tournament among the United States, Canada, Finland and Sweden — will be in less than five months in Boston and Montreal. Then, in 2026, NHL players will return to the Olympics for the first time since 2014. Between the NHL balking at its season being delayed and COVID creating havoc with the 2021-22 schedule, NHL players have not participated in the Olympics for a decade.

“You have to understand that Johnny and I talked about being in the Olympics together a lot,” Tkachuk said. “In 2022, when they canceled us from being in the Olympics, we were so upset. We were both playing really well together in Calgary and we thought we were going to be so good in the Olympics. We talked about it all the time. That was a tough one. He had played for Team USA in so many big events, and I know it meant a lot to him. Obviously, we would have been together this time. It’s tough to think about right now. But I know he would have been excited for those tournaments and he will be on my mind during those times even more than he usually is.”

Tkachuk doesn’t require nor ask for any sympathy. He simply misses his friend.

“Trust me, I feel like I’m the luckiest guy in the NHL,” he said. “I get to play a sport that I love, and it’s my job. And I get to play it (in Florida), which, in my opinion, is the best place in the league. The lifestyle. The fans we’ve developed down here. The way our fan base is growing and growing every day. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere other than this place. It really is the best, and I’m so lucky to have this life. I came here to win a Cup. I looked at this group of guys and I knew it could be done. I knew something special could happen. I guess I was right.”

Tkachuk’s emotions will surely peak in a few weeks, when the Panthers play on Oct. 15 in Columbus for the Blue Jackets’ home opener. In lieu of typical opening night ceremonies, the Blue Jackets will honor the memory of Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau.

“I really haven’t thought about that night too much just yet,” Tkachuk said. “But I have a feeling that it’s going to be pretty tough to play that night. It’s not just me that’s feeling it, obviously. The whole league is feeling it right now. Anyone who knew him is feeling it even more.”

Tkachuk is busy preparing his Panthers for a chance to claim back-to-back championships. Dynasties aren’t much of a thing in the modern-day NHL, but the Panthers have won the Cup once, have been to the Final two years consecutively, and their core remains in its 20s.

“We can do something special,” Tkachuk said.

Even still, a small part of his mind remains focused on the international tournaments, where he’ll never get the chance to play with Gaudreau again. But he does have a chance to honor Gaudreau during those tournaments.

“It’s been a really, really, really tough few weeks,” he said. “I still can’t even believe it. It’s just so sad. All of it.”

While sitting and looking down at the Panthers practice facility, Tkachuk’s face alternates emotions, his mind churning.

“You know, the thing that’s getting me through this is those stories I was telling you about,” he said. “Those stories about him I tell all the guys constantly. I’m going to keep those stories with me forever and I’m going to keep his memory alive in everybody by continuing to tell those stories.”

He hopes to generate another story involving Gaudreau when the Olympics arrive.

“He would have been there and wearing that Team USA jersey meant a lot to him,” Tkachuk said. “It means a lot to me, too. When I’m there, he will be on my mind the whole time. Even more than usual. And I’ll be telling stories.”

[belqva]

₊˚⊹౨ THE MORNING (R.C.) ৎ ₊˚⊹

warnings: drugs, alcohol, toxic friends, intoxication, language, dealing, one mention of reader skipping meals

summary: At a wild party, you confront a tense reunion with Rafe Cameron, your best friends ex, while reluctantly buying drugs for a friend. The events of the night leave you more confused than ever.

pairing: rafe cameron x female!reader

word count: 1.6k

a/n: I definitely wanted this to be longer but oh what can I do 😔🖐️ it’s becoming a habit of mine to write fics and leave them on a cliffhanger lol sorry !! I feel like it gives me motivation that I’ll write a sequel in the future yk? Anyway the reader is in a really toxic female friend group and two of the girls are named Taylor and Anya but you can just ignore that if u want to <33 as always I hope u enjoy!!🤍

The overwhelming smell of weed, alcohol, and expensive, overly lavish perfume filled the dimly lit room of the massive mansion hosting another one of the infamous Friday night parties. A party isn’t a party without booze and molly, right? Some spoiled rich kid was celebrating nothing in particular, just throwing a party because they could. The entire house was packed with girls in their skimpiest outfits and boys flaunting wristwatches that probably cost more than your monthly salary. You could barely hear yourself think as loud trap music pounded over the constant chatter and drunken shouting. The dim house flickered with occasional strobe lights, the only real illumination being from the ceiling light, modified to shift between dark blue and red.

It wasn’t really your scene. You weren’t a party animal or particularly popular. You hovered somewhere between the Pogue and Kook worlds. Your family wasn’t exactly poor, but they didn’t have enough money to land you the "full Kook" status either. However, most of your friends were full-on Kooks—girls who got Range Rovers for their sixteenth birthdays. You had known them since kindergarten, and despite your differences, you’d tagged along with them throughout middle and high school. You fit in well enough, thanks to your natural looks and careful attention to fashion—even if it meant skipping meals to buy a nice dress.

So here you were, like many Friday nights before, out with the same group of girls. Most of them were either drunk, high, or both. The only one who wasn’t fully wasted was Anya. She was the closest thing your group had to a leader and the main reason you hadn’t been kicked out of their tight-knit circle. Anya was smart and stunningly gorgeous, with her silky blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. She was effortlessly perfect in a way that made everyone want to be her. And, as you’d noticed tonight, she was completely off her game.

She sat beside you on the expensive beige couch, her mood noticeably different from usual. She’d had a few shots and maybe smoked a little, but nothing more—uncharacteristic for her at a party like this. Concern tugged at you, and you leaned toward her.

"Is everything okay, Ani?" you asked, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders and resting your chin on her.

She shrugged, her icy blue eyes avoiding yours. Anya was wearing a pink tube top, a mini leather skirt, and platform heels—an outfit far too gorgeous for a casual party. It was obvious she was dressing to impress someone. You knew her well enough to see that something was wrong.

"Come on, tell me," you pressed, trying to lighten the mood. "Future Anya will be mad if I don’t cheer you up because, as you’d say, 'we only have a limited number of Friday nights in our short youth.'"

Anya cracked a small smile. "Yeah, you’re right," she said softly, "she would be mad."

"So, what’s going on?" you asked again. "You can tell me. I won’t say anything to the others."

She hesitated, fidgeting with her fingers. You watched her closely, sensing her inner turmoil. Finally, she sighed. "Did you see who's selling the sugar tonight?" she asked quietly, referring to the drugs.

You shook your head. "No, I haven’t really walked around much." You felt uneasy. The last thing you wanted to get involved in was drugs, even if most of your friends were on a first-name basis with dealers.

Anya bit her lip. "It’s Rafe."

Your heart skipped a beat. Rafe Cameron. The name brought back a flood of memories. He was the golden boy, the heartbreaker, and for a while, he was Anya’s. They had dated for a few months during senior year, and she had been head over heels for him. But Rafe had shattered her heart, and she had never fully recovered. Now it made sense why she was acting out of character tonight.

"Rafe’s here?" you asked, not sure how to feel about the revelation.

Before Anya could answer, Taylor—one of the drunker members of your group—stumbled over and collapsed into your lap, giggling uncontrollably. You caught her before she fell completely, but the interruption was enough to break the moment between you and Anya.

Anya’s expression hardened immediately, her walls going back up. "Great," she muttered under her breath, getting up from the couch abruptly. "I’m going to get a drink."

"Anya—" you started, but she was already weaving through the crowd.

Taylor, oblivious to the tension, grinned up at you. "Why so serious, babe?" she slurred, patting your cheek playfully. "Come on, have some fun!"

You sighed, helping her sit up properly. "Maybe later," you mumbled. Your mind was still on Anya, on Rafe. You couldn’t just let it go. If he was the one dealing tonight, no wonder Anya was upset.

As if reading your mind, Taylor handed you a crumpled hundred-dollar bill. "Can you grab something for me? He won’t sell to me anymore, I’ve been back too many times."

Normally, you would’ve refused. But this was your chance to figure out what was really going on. "Yeah, sure," you said, standing up.

"Really? You?" Taylor blinked, surprised at your sudden willingness. "Well, okay! Don’t get lost, babe," she teased, giving you a playful shove.

Ignoring her, you made your way through the crowd toward the back of the mansion where the drug deals usually went down. Your heart pounded in your chest as you neared the area. And then, there he was — Rafe Cameron.

Rafe was seated at a table surrounded by his usual entourage. His shirt was crisp and white, his hair neatly shaved, and he looked more muscular than you remembered. He had a dark, commanding presence, the kind that made it hard to look away. He was cutting lines of powder, expertly dividing them into neat little baggies.

You swallowed hard, your nerves on edge. This was a bad idea, but there was no turning back now.

As you approached the table, Rafe’s sharp blue eyes locked onto you, freezing you in place. He raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting you.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was cold, and for a moment, you wished you could disappear.

"I—uh—I’m here to buy," you stammered, your voice barely audible over the music.

Rafe’s eyes narrowed, scanning you from head to toe. You felt vulnerable under his gaze, like he could see straight through you. After a tense moment, he leaned back in his chair, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Since when do you do this shit?" he asked, his tone dripping with skepticism.

"I don’t," you blurted. "It’s not for me. One of my friends asked me to—"

Rafe cut you off, holding up a hand. "Let me guess. Taylor?"

You nodded, feeling even more ridiculous. Why was he making this so hard?

Rafe let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Of course. Always sending someone else to do her dirty work." He leaned forward, his eyes still trained on you. "You shouldn’t be mixed up in this, Y/N."

His use of your name surprised you. You hadn’t thought he even knew who you were. "I—I’m not. I’m just doing a favor," you muttered.

Rafe reached for the hundred-dollar bill you were holding out, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief second. His touch was electric, sending a jolt through you that you weren’t expecting.

"Here’s the thing," Rafe said, his voice low and dangerous. "I don’t want to see you coming back here again. Got it?"

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift in tone. "What?"

Rafe leaned in closer, his gaze piercing. "This isn’t your scene. You don’t belong here, and trust me, you don’t want to get involved with people like me. Stay away from this stuff, Y/N."

You didn’t know how to respond. There was something unsettling about the way he was looking at you, something that made your pulse race for reasons you couldn’t explain. Was he really concerned about you? Or was this some twisted game he was playing?

Before you could say anything else, he handed you the tiny baggies. "Take this to Taylor. And remember what I said."

You nodded quickly, snatching the drugs and turning on your heel, eager to escape the intensity of his gaze. As you weaved your way back through the crowd, your mind was racing. What had just happened? Why had Rafe Cameron, of all people, decided to lecture you? And why did it feel like he cared?

Back at the couch, Taylor greeted you with a sloppy grin, grabbing the drugs from your hand. "You’re the best!" she slurred, not noticing the dazed look on your face.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about Rafe. The way he had looked at you, the way his voice had dropped to a low, dangerous whisper—it all left you feeling more confused than ever. You shouldn’t care about him. He was trouble, the kind of trouble you had no business getting involved with.

Yet, deep down, you knew this wasn’t the last time you’d find yourself in front of Rafe Cameron.

-

The night drew on, but you couldn’t shake the encounter with Rafe. His words echoed in your mind, conflicting emotions pulling at you. You should have been worried about Anya, about her unresolved feelings for him, but your thoughts kept circling back to his piercing gaze, the way he warned you. It was almost as if he had seen you, really seen you, beyond just another party girl.

And that was dangerous.

© COPYRIGHT BELQVA 2024

SHARING THIS, ANY OF MY OTHER WORKS OR A TRANSLATION OF THEM WITHOUT CONSENT ON THIS OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN !!!

THE PLOT OF OUTER BANKS OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS, EXCEPT FOR THE ONES CREATED BY ME, DO NOT BELONG TO ME THIS IS JUST A WORK OF FANFICTION !!!

tags:

[hunnyswift]

pogue!reader x dealer!rafe headcanons

cw: profanity , use of drugs / drug abuse , sexual innuendos , abusive household

18+ minors dni

◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟

♡ dealer!rafe knew who you were before you both met ; you met him through barry and did not know who he was until barry explained he was country club and then you recognized him. this was season 2 rafe in my head

♡ dealer!rafe is the one who’s pining harder in this situation forrrr sure. he sees a beautiful girl who has it rough and is pushing through — he wished people saw him like that

♡ you did. once you started hanging out with rafe and barry more , it moved to one on one’s and him meeting your best (only) friend

♡ you live in the trailer park , right across from barry, and that just meant you started smoking at an early age

♡ you live with your mother , little brother , and dog. your mother was terrible ; she was absent unless she needed something from you , she ignored you , she refused to accept that your little brother was gay , she hardly spent the time to stock the kitchen for your family , and she always said how much she regretted having you.

♡ dealer!rafe was one of the few people that you spoke about your mother with — one too many late night smoke sessions and you were both confiding in each other and confessing things you never had before

♡ you end up dating rafe for awhile the majority of season 2 and it was really good up until the end when you found out he hooked up with some kook girl at a party

♡ “it’s not my fault you don’t fuck me!” that was rafe’s excuse when you flipped out on him. “do you not understand that maybe i don’t want to lose my virginity to an asshole that fucks everything? no wonder i didn’t fuck you , dude!” you were both coked out , but those were the last words you said to him

♡ you didn’t see him again except for in passing at barry’s ( who became your plug once again )

♡ dealer!rafe is the one trying to talk to you every time and you always brush him off

♡ it’s when you had nowhere to go on a particularly bad night at home with your mother. barry was out of town , your best friend was visiting her cousins , and you had no one. so you called him

♡ dealer!rafe was in the middle of throwing a party , selling his newest product when he got the call. he saw your number flash across the screen. he didn’t hesitate to pick up , listen to what you said , and shut down his own party despite it only being around midnight

♡ as soon as everyone was gone , he was speeding to the trailer park to pick you and your brother up

♡ he always said “we take care of our own,” whenever you apologized for asking for help

that’s all for now <3 but i wanna get insight to how you all see dealer!rafe too , so send me some ideas! i def get inspiration from lola the movie for reader here

[daydreamerwoah]

Family Tree (Chapter 3)

Simon x Y/n <3

If you all read my "Bourbon" one shot, this chapter is somewhat based off that, but I changed some things to fit with the story.

After another week had passed, Colonel Williams and his team had finally completed all the necessary paperwork, and you were finally able to get the keys to your father's home. The awkward silence between you and him as he placed the keys in your hand made him rub the back of his neck. He was at a loss for words; you were as well. The two of you stood outside on the sidewalk, glancing up at the townhome. The brick exterior almost reminded you of the dingy apartment you had back in the States. It was old. And from the looks of the bay window that faced the street, you could make out a crack in the corner of it. 

"Thanks, Colonel Williams," you smiled. Well attempted to through the furrowed eyebrows on your face. 

"Course. Let me know if y'need anything yeah? Always a call away," he said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. His small grin did nothing to ease your slight anxiety, but you accepted it nonetheless. 

After he got in his car and left, you glanced back at the house for another moment before taking a deep breath and walking up to the front door. Placing the key into the lock, you slowly turned it to the left before hearing the click of the door unlocking. The moment you turned the handle and opened it, you were hit with the awful stale scent of a home that hadn't had a window open in months. The dark, long hallway made you feel like you were walking into the unknown - which technically you were. You had no clue what was going to be on the other side of the wall, but you had an idea as you got to the end of it. And that idea was unfortunately correct.

The living room - while seemingly a decent size - was filled with so much stuff. Books, clothes, hardware, and anything else you could think of were scattered all over the floor and chairs. The only thing you could make out a little was a pillow and blanket that laid on the couch, like your father had been sleeping there. You turned your head to the left, looking into the adjacent room and seeing a huge dining table that had more junk stacked on it. You walked closer to it and couldn't help the deep furrow of your eyebrows. Newspapers dating back from a couple of weeks to years were just there, along with documents that looked like past due bills. It made you somewhat cringe about what you'd find in the kitchen, but you swallowed the small lump in your throat as you continued walking toward the back of the house. 

To your surprise, the kitchen was relatively clean. Only a few things, like canned goods and unopened tea bags, sat on the counters. More papers that seemed to be bills and letters also scattered along the countertops. When you opened the fridge, you were also a bit shocked to see the only thing that was in there was a shit ton of beer. What the hell had your father been doing? You could have taken a wild guess, but it seemed ridiculous; you didn't know the man. How were you going to judge someone you had never met before? 

Once you had walked through the entire house, you found there were three bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs, all similar to how it looked on the ground floor; old, dusty, and semi-abandoned. It seemed that the man had spent the majority of his days and nights downstairs and would only use the bathroom when needed, as you saw his toothbrush and razor laying on the sink. 

What the hell were you going to do with all of his stuff? After all, the house was now in your name, but you felt weird at knowing you were going to have to do something about it. Some children always took the low road of selling their parent's home,' taking the money, and moving on with their lives. But you didn't want that. Did you? You obviously packed up everything you had to move to England, so why would you sell something that was left to you? 

"Shit," you sighed. 

That entire weekend you spent cleaning out all of the clutter that was in the townhome. From the old newspapers to the canned goods, it was all dumped in the garbage can outside on the curb. You even picked up supplies to deep clean the kitchen and bathroom since you needed to use those areas the most. While you still had access to the hotel room that was paid for by Colonel Williams's team, you didn't want to keep bugging them for longer than you needed. Even though he reassured you it was okay. He even offered assistance to come help you with cleaning out the house, but you declined. While it definitely would have helped make things easier, you were just as stubborn as the man you never met. Not accepting help was something that was the norm for you. 

As you were taking out another bag of trash to the curb that Sunday afternoon, a woman - probably in her late 60s if you guessed - walked out of the townhome that was next to your father's. 

"Oh, hi dear," she greeted.

You softly smiled at her, "Hello."

"I thought I heard something going on over here this morning," she stood close to the fence that divided you two, "I'm Alice," she said, holding out her hand. 

You sweetly took it, "Y/n."

"Lovely name," she smiled, "Did you just buy the home?"

You quickly glanced at the front door, wishing she wasn't asking you questions right now, before looking back at her. But it didn't really matter at that point, did it?

"Uh no no... it-it was my.. dad's."

Alice's eyebrows furrowed for a second before the shocked look ran across her face, "You're Charles's daughter?" You quickly nodded, "Oh my goodness dear. I'm so sorry for us to meet under the circumstances. Your father and I had been neighbors for over 20 years." She explained, giving you a sad smile, "If you need anything. Or just want to come over for tea, I'm always home. Me and Misty don't often get visitors." You wanted to ask who was Misty, but before you could, you heard the low sound of a meow down by Alice's feet. You looked and saw an orange and fluffy cat glancing up at you, its tail flicking side to side slowly. Alice looked down and giggled at the animal, "She's a big fuss, but she's friendly."

You smiled when another meow came from the cat before Alice bid you farewell and walked back into her home, letting you go back to cleaning. Looking around the living room, you still had a lot to do, but at least for now, you had made some progress.

************************************************************************************

"Okay. Make sure you don't get the stitches wet for a week. Come back when they're ready to be taken out, alright?" You told the young patient, who had taken a nasty fall while skateboarding. Her mother, while a bit worried, thanked you before they walked out of the room. 

So far, the week had been pretty easy.. at least at work. Every day after your shifts, you would stay up at least until a little after midnight, cleaning out and organizing the house. It was now Wednesday, and exhaustion felt like it was about to hit you the moment you clocked out.

As you typed up your notes on the computer, Ella's cheerful voice popped up beside you as she sat down in the seat, "Soo.... what're you doing after work?" she smiled. 

You glanced at her, slightly giggling at her question before focusing back on the monitor in front of you, "Ella-"

"Oh come on! You don't even know what I'm gonna say."

You couldn't help but side-eye her, making that sly smirk of hers turn into a huge grin, "Okay... humor me. What were you going to say?"

She tried her best not to laugh, but it was obvious as she pouted, "We can go get drinks.... and food?" she asked. 

That made a chuckle bubble up your throat. Usually, she always asked you to go for drinks, but maybe she thought adding the food part was such a huge difference. Yet, you couldn't help but consider finally giving the girl a chance to have a drink with you. Maybe then she'd stop asking you constantly about it if you went at least once. 

Sighing, you turned and looked at her again, "Okay fine."

The squeal that left her lips made you laugh, "Yes yes yes! I promise it'll be fun yeah?" she exclaimed before grabbing a paper chart to head and see her next patient. When she got down the hallway, she turned around facing you, "You can't back out!" she shouted. 

Shaking your head, you smiled and continued to type up your notes before seeing your next patient.  

Ella left 15 minutes before you did, and she made sure you were still coming before she left. You promised you would be there, but as you walked out of the hospital and got on the bus, you almost regretted agreeing to go out. It wasn't that you didn't enjoy her or anything, but the thought of being out when you really wanted to just go to sleep sort of made your head hurt. 

One drink. That's all you'd have, and then probably tell her you were tired and were going to head home. 

When you walked into the pub, the scent of beer and greasy bar food filled the place with its aroma. It made your stomach slightly growl since you hadn't eaten since lunch and that was barely a real lunch - chips and a bottle of water. 

"Y/n!" Ella's voice yelled out as she stood up from her seat in a booth off to the side. You glanced her way and smiled, walking towards the booth and sliding in. "You made it!"

You giggled and playfully rolled your eyes, "I told you I was coming."

"I know.. but- I thought you'd change your mind or something," she said as she pouted. 

Did you really give off the impression that you would go back on your word? Maybe. It was obvious that Ella didn't know anything about you, but you felt a twinge of guilt run through you as you looked at her. 

"I like keeping my word," you said before a knowing grin spread across your lips, "Besides... you were going to ask me until I eventually said yes," you teased, making her laugh. 

"Oh shut it," she said before a waitress came over to the table and took your drink orders. You also got an appetizer to share. 

It was odd. Well no.. good. Ella was a sweet person, and the more you got to know her, the more you realized you and her could be friends. Even with you dodging a lot of the questions she asked. Anything about family was an immediate "they're all back in the States" except for the one you moved over to England for. When she asked if it was a cousin or something, you just said no before switching topics. But she wasn't stupid... you dodged those questions like it would kill you if you answered them. It was a difficult subject - that she was certain of - so instead of pressuring you, she followed your lead. Surprisingly, you two had a lot in common - music, food, even some of the books you liked to read. The only difference you two seemed to have was the type of alcohol you liked. While she settled for vodka, you fancied a bourbon over anything. 

"Reminds me of one of my boyfriend's friends. He loves bourbon," she giggled. 

"Sounds like he's got good taste then," you joked. 

A full laugh escaped her mouth as she pulled out her phone, "Speaking of boyfriend. I'm gonna see if he wants to join us. Maybe you can meet him," she said, typing away on her phone. By that point, you were two drinks in, and somehow, the sleepiness that once plagued you vanished. Maybe it was because of the distraction of getting to know Ella. Or maybe it was because you had some food in your system. But either way, you didn't mind meeting the boyfriend she always talked about so lovingly. She glanced up at you and then back to the phone before setting it on the table, "You alright with him bringing his friends? They had a shit day at the range, so they're all needing a drink apparently," she giggled. 

Meeting more people? You internally cringed, "Maybe I'll head out. Let you guys chill-"

She instantly cut you off, "Oh come on. You don't have to leave. I know they wouldn't mind. Plus you have to meet Kyle anyway," she tried convincing you. 

You couldn't help but slightly groan. Looking down at your attire - nurse scrubs that had a tiny stain from the food that dropped on your top - you shook your head, "I'm not dressed to be meeting anyone, Ella."

She all but barked out a loud laugh, "Look at me. I promise you they won't care about that. They're really cool. Probably gonna come in here with dirt on their clothes from being outside most of the day, so we'll all look tired," she joked.  

A sigh left your mouth, "Fine fine... geez you know how to convince me now that we had two drinks together," you teased. 

"We're so gonna be besties," she beamed, making you playfully roll your eyes. 

"I'm heading to the restroom," you said, standing up before making your way to the back of the pub. At least you'd try to look half-decent and fix your hair a bit. 

They're about to meet... cue the awkwardness lmao!

Taglist: @simp-4-masked-men @dayrin085 @jessicab1991 @kylies-love-letter @kalypsoox @brownlee-22 @firefoxkairan

[mephistopheleswasrobbed]

Right so, I currently feel a very strong urge to cut open my stomach like Chef Hong, but let's put that aside for now and focus on all the new evidence that Peaceful Property is very much gay, actually:

(somehow in light of the end of this episode all of this feels so shallow but well, I got this far, I'm not giving up now)

1

Peach is wearing THE shirt. The infamous "more than friends less than lovers" shirt.

And as is usually the case when this shirt appears, it perfectly describes the current state of Peach and Home's relationship.

2

I'm not really attentive enough to analyse colours in these shows, but even I noticed that Home's shirt is pretty blue at the beginning of this episode

Looks like both of them are (not so) subtly expressing their feelings through their clothes this week

3

We didn't really get confirmation either way about Peach's relationship with Best. Though judging by this little interaction between them, if there was something between them, it was probably initiated by Best. He's full-body reaching more than half-way across the frame, trying to get Peach to fistbump him while Peach only half-heartedly raises his fist towards Best's a little. (I admit I might be somewhat biased against him because of Pangpang, but I almost get the vibe that he kinda tried to get close to Peach to siphon off some of Chef Hong's attention. So he was using him from the beginning, first for his cooking skills then for his exorcism skills. But tbf it might have also just been innocent excitement.)

Anyway look at Chef Hong frowning at their interaction. She knows this is not the right man for her son favourite student.

4

Home, deepely and sincerely, wants to help Peach.

As soon as he finds out about Peach's trauma his first priority becomes helping him, not selling the property and not exorcising the ghost.

He even goes all alone to meet the ghost of Chef Hong and asks her to help Peach.

This is kind of a parallel to the second episode where Home went to confront Rak alone (with Suradech and Kan) after Peach refused to help him anymore. Except this time he actually goes alone and instead of asking the ghost to leave so he can make some more money, he sincerely asks her to help Peach. Character growth. But also. Doing it for the guy he likes. And this is why he gets the mother in law approval and not Best.

But helping someone is not always easy, so:

This is the face of a man who's desperate to help the person he loves even if that person doesn't think he can be helped. And he's willing to play the bad guy to get him that help.

It so clearly hurts him to talk to Peach that way but he doesn't know what else to do.

And Peach is also hurt because he thought that he and Home had gotten close enough that Home would care about his wellbeing more than making money. And he's right, too because Home IS actually doing this FOR his wellbeing and NOT for money. Peach just doesn't know that, yet.

(Quick aside about Peach: Shouting at someone while clutching their shirt. That's 'I love you so please understand me' level of fighting)

Classic tragic romance shit (in preparation for later things to come?). Especially with their next conversation happening through a glass pane. (Star Trek anyone? and many more that I can't think of right now)

And Home gives him hope. Hope that maybe his mentor didn't kill herself, hat maybe he's not responsible for her death. And with that he gives him the strength to face his fear. Good (not yet) boyfriend.

5

It's love, your honor!

He litterally takes over the job of taking care of Peach from Peach's mother figure

and then holds him while he breaks down. And not only does he hold him, he PULLS HIM IN so Peach can cry into his shoulder.

And Peach lets himself fall apart in Home's embrace, to let out all of the grief and guilt he had been carrying mixed with the relief of realising it wasn't his fault she died, and she never blamed him for any of it.

(I know I've said it before but man, Tay and New are really blowing this out of the water. They're just so good. Everything about this show is just sooooooo good.)

6

Is that jealousy I smell, Peach?

Don't worry. Home has already admitted that he's flirting with Kan as a bit not with any real intention. The real is reserved for you.

7

He fully plans to give it to Peach, doesn't he? Simp.

8

Between all the real talk, raw emotions and vulnerability, they're right back to bickering and teasing each other.

9

Now there's a classic BL trope. (And also again a callback to Chef Hong taking care of Peach, making it even more meaningful.)

10

Its LOVE, your honor!!!

But seriously:

Peach has fully fallen in love with Home at this point. And how could he not, after Home fully proved his kindness and selflessness and care for Peach this week. Peach had already started to really trust and be comfortable around Home last episode, but with this he's fully brought down Peach's walls. (too bad it's going to end up hurting them both soon)

And Home knows it, too. Speaking it out while also giving the plausible deniability of a joke. And note how Peach denies on behalf of Kan but not of himself.

They're inching their way towards each other, neither of them willing to say it without beating around the bush but both of them fully aware of what's happening between them. (too bad there's a big storm coming for them that's going to wreck this puppy love bliss)

11

And this, ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between and beyond,

is the face of realisation that you did irreconcilable harm to the man you love and you didn't even know it. That the man you love just said a most sincere and heartfelt "Thank you" to his killer. To you. That all your newfound happieness is about to come crashing down around you and it's all your fault.

Seeing them be happy and flirty in the credit scene hurt. Because how long will they still have this? And either way, any blissful moment from now on is going to feel hollow for Home. And Kan knows, too. Will Pangpang find out before Peach? Will Home get to tell Peach himself or will Peach have to find out from someone else?

Major angst is incoming and honestly? That's pretty gay. Silver lining and all that, I guess.

Anyway I don't want to leave us off at a complete downer so have a quick

Lesbian Corner

The focus was very much on Peach this episode and Kan was mostly off doing her own thing so there's not much but there is this:

Pangpang felt quite betrayed when Kan didn't take her side against Home. She's clearly aware that they should hook team up seeing as the boys are busy with each other.

Don't worry girl, you'll get there eventually.

[starboye]

What about dealer!rafe with femboy reader scenario? Rafe has his eyes on the femboy all the time but doesn't want to scare him away. That all changes when the reader is getting heckled by some bad guys and Rafe steps in and protects him

i like this... a lot

it's not like rafe afraid hell no, the kook prince ain't afraid of nothing but something about you just made him more cautious, you knew the kind of person rafe was from the things others told you so you kept your distance from him

but he didn't like that, always seeing you at parties but never approaching you knowing he'd say something stupid and make you run off so he just stuck to selling his product while trying to keep his eyes away from your flattering, intoxicating, pretty self i mean... whatever

one night when he was supposed to be focusing on selling he noticed you were gone for a little to long, getting up from the couch he searched for you everywhere until he stepped outside and say you getting harassed by some drunk who wouldn't let up

"get the fuck off me"

"c'mon just one little kiss"

the nasty perv had you pinned against a wall, his hand trying to find it's way up your skirt, that was until you heard rafe run over and punch the guy, beating him up for even thinking about touching his crush, kicking him in the stomach numerous times before the drunk scurries away

"thanks for the help"

rafe nods and soon you're off to leave but in a moment of desperateness rafe calls out and stops you, walking towards you while writing something down on a piece of paper

"if you maybe wanna get some food or something"

it was his phone number and then he was off back into the house, after a couple days of thinking you did end up texting rafe to go out, him somehow convincing you to get high with him on the first date

just a little something something

[ducktoo]

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

11. Gym-selle life

Note: Enjoy the fluff!

It was a rare, calm afternoon at SM’s gym, and Y/n found himself with some unexpected free time. After that incident, he decided that his small frame wasn't cut it for this line of work. So, he started hitting the gym.

And it was always best to do a workout on a free day.

No schedules, no urgent texts from the group, and no chaotic last-minute changes—just peace. But peace didn’t seem to last long, not with Giselle around.

“Hey, boss baby,” Giselle’s voice rang out as she walked into the gym, a sly grin plastered on her face. She was dressed in her workout gear, hair tied up in a messy bun. “I heard you were looking for someone to train with.”

Y/n, who had been lazily scrolling through his phone while sitting on a bench, raised an eyebrow. “…Was I?”

“Well, you are now,” she declared, grabbing a mat and plopping it down next to him. “Come on, let’s do a workout together. I’ve got some steam to blow off, and you could use the exercise.”

Y/n snorted. “I do exercise, Aeri”

“You walk us from the van to the stage. That doesn’t count.”

“Hey, there’s a lot more to my job than that,” Y/n shot back, standing up to stretch. “Besides, I’m not that out of shape.”

Giselle crossed her arms and eyed him suspiciously. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure the last time you ran, you were dead after a flight of stairs.”

Y/n’s mouth opened, ready to argue, but he couldn’t exactly deny the truth. “Okay, fine. But that doesn’t mean I can’t keep up.”

“Prove it then,” she said with a challenging glint in her eyes. “Let’s do some cardio, weights, and maybe a bit of core. Think you can handle it?”

“Oh, don’t test me, Uchinaga” Y/n said, rolling up his sleeves and drove both of them to the gym.

-

The first few sets went as expected.

Y/n kept up with Giselle through the warm-up—jumping jacks, a bit of light jogging, and stretches. He felt confident. Too confident.

But as soon as Giselle cranked up the intensity with high-knees and burpees, Y/n quickly realised he might have bitten off more than he could chew.

“Fcking hell, you... do this... often?” Y/n panted, trying to catch his breath between sets. His legs were already feeling the burn, and they hadn’t even started with the weights yet.

Giselle, barely breaking a sweat, looked over at him with a smirk. “I’m fine, Y/n. You good?”

“Never better,” Y/n grunted, wiping the sweat from his brow and forcing himself to keep up. He wasn’t about to let Giselle think he couldn’t handle it.

The next part of the workout involved weights, and Y/n felt slightly more confident. He had done some weight training before—how hard could it be?

The answer: very.

Giselle lifted with ease, moving through reps with the kind of strength that made Y/n wonder if she had secretly been training for a boxing match. Meanwhile, he was struggling to maintain his form without collapsing under the weight.

“Come on, Y/n, you got this!” Giselle teased, watching him wobble as he tried to do a squat with a barbell. “You’re not gonna let me out-lift you, are you?”

Y/n gritted his teeth, determined to push through the pain. “Hell no.”

But by the time they got to the core workout—planks, sit-ups, and leg raises—Y/n was just about ready to tap out. He collapsed onto the mat, staring up at the ceiling as his abs screamed in protest.

Giselle, still full of energy, laughed and nudged him with her foot. “Tired already?”

“Damn…right I….am..,” Y/n wheezed, still flat on the ground. “Just... Gonna catch my breath.”

“Sure,” she chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Let’s cool down, then.”

-

After finishing up the workout, Giselle led Y/n through some stretches, and thankfully, they were much more manageable than the burpees. The two of them stretched in comfortable silence for a while, the intensity of the workout replaced by a relaxed atmosphere.

“I gotta admit,” Y/n said, still a bit breathless, “you’re in way better shape than I thought.”

“You expected me to be weak or something?” Giselle asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not at all,” Y/n replied quickly. “It’s just... I didn’t expect you to be that strong. I’m impressed.”

“Well, we do have to keep up with choreography and performances,” she pointed out, grinning. “Plus, I like staying fit. Makes me feel good.”

“I can see why,” Y/n mumbled, rubbing his sore arms. “You almost killed me out there.”

Giselle laughed. “You’re just out of practice. But don’t worry, I’ll whip you into shape in no time. You’re gonna be running laps around the rest of us soon.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “You sound like you’re planning to make this a regular thing.”

“Of course I am,” Giselle said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re officially my new workout buddy. So, no more slacking off.”

Y/n groaned but couldn’t help smiling. “Great. I’m doomed.”

Giselle just grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “You’ll thank me later.”

“Sureeeee” Y/n remained sceptical, but complied nonetheless.

-

After their workout, the two of them decided to reward themselves with a cheat meal. They headed to a nearby café, ordering some well-deserved food to replenish their energy.

As they dug into their sandwiches, Y/n leaned back in his chair, finally feeling the soreness in his muscles set in. “I’m not gonna be able to move tomorrow, am I?”

“Probably not,” Giselle replied nonchalantly. “But that’s how you know it’s working.”

Y/n rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help but smile. “You’re evil, you know that?”

“Hey, you agreed to this.”

“Regretting it already,” Y/n muttered, taking a bite of his sandwich. “But thanks, Aeri. I do need to train after that happened.”

"I should say thanks instead, Y/n" Giselle smiled. "You looked surprisingly cool back there."

"No it wasn't. But at least it drives me to hit the gym" He chowed down his well-deserved burger.

She waved him off. “No problem. It was fun.”

The two sat in comfortable silence for a while, the post-workout exhaustion settling in. It was moments like these—just relaxing and sharing a meal—that reminded Y/n how much he appreciated his job. Sure, it was chaotic and exhausting at times, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

As they finished their food, Giselle glanced over at him, a mischievous look in her eyes. “Same time next week?”

Y/n groaned, but the smile on his face gave him away. “Fine. But next time, I’m picking the workout.”

“Deal,” Giselle grinned, already looking forward to their next session.

-

A few months had passed since Y/n’s “death by burpees” workout with Giselle. He had committed to their regular gym sessions, despite his initial reluctance. Cardio, strength training, and core work had slowly started to pay off. His stamina improved, muscles grew, and even his posture became more confident. However, Y/n didn’t give much thought to his own progress. To him, it was just about keeping up with the girls and doing his job better.

But aespa had definitely noticed.

One afternoon, while Y/n was grabbing some water bottles for the group, Winter’s voice broke through the chatter.

“Wait—when did this happen?” she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion as she stared at Y/n.

“Happen? What?” Y/n responded, blinking in confusion.

“This!” Winter gestured dramatically towards him, like she was pointing out something obvious. “Idiot. You’re... like... buff now.”

Karina, who had been mid-stretch, stopped and glanced up. “Oh my God, she’s right.” She sat up straighter, her eyes scanning his form. “Wow, you’ve definitely been working out.”

Giselle, not one to miss a chance to brag, gave a smug grin from her spot by the mirrors. “Told you I’d get him in shape.”

Y/n shrugged awkwardly, not used to being the centre of attention. “It’s just a bit of working out,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “Nothing crazy. Just training to get stronger, you know?”

Winter stood up, her eyes scrutinising him with exaggerated intensity. “No, seriously. When did you get all... strong? What are you eating?”

Ningning, having missed the start of the conversation, wandered over. “What’s going on?”

“Y/n’s been hitting the gym,” Karina explained with a chuckle. “And apparently, he’s swole now.”

Ningning raised an eyebrow, walking up to Y/n and poking his arm experimentally. “Whoa. You’ve been hiding this under all those hoodies?”

Y/n groaned, quickly becoming flustered. “It’s just some muscle, nothing worth—”

“Nope, this is big news,” Ningning interrupted, laughing as she continued to poke him. “You’re all buff now, which means you’re finally ready for me to set you up with someone.”

Y/n blinked, taken aback. “…Dafug? You what now?”

Ningning grinned mischievously. “You know, now that you’ve had a glow-up, I can totally help you get a date. I know tons of cute girls. Heck, we can set you up with Seulgi-unnie for the lols.”

Karina and Giselle burst into laughter, clearly entertained by Ningning’s playful matchmaking attempt.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Karina teased, sitting back to watch the chaos unfold. “Let’s see who she has in mind.”

Y/n felt his face heat up, shaking his head vigorously. “Ok, please don—”

“Come on,” Ningning pressed, clearly enjoying his embarrassment. “I’ve got connections. You won’t have to stay single forever.”

Before Y/n could protest further, Winter, who had been watching the entire exchange with an unreadable expression, suddenly spoke up.

“He doesn’t need your help, Ning,” Winter said, crossing her arms and stepping forward. “He’s fine as he is.”

Everyone turned to look at her, the room going silent for a moment. Winter’s tone was oddly defensive, and it wasn’t long before Karina and Giselle exchanged knowing glances, their lips curving into mischievous grins.

“Oh?” Karina said, eyes glinting with amusement. “Minjeong-ssi, are you... jealous?”

Winter’s eyes widened in alarm. “What? No! I’m just saying—he doesn’t need her to—”

“Yeah, sure,” Giselle cut in, smirking. “That sounded totally platonic.”

Winter’s face turned pink as she struggled to find the right words. “I-I didn’t mean it like that!”

Ningning, ever the troublemaker, immediately pounced on the opportunity. “Ooooh, I see what’s happening here,” she teased, her grin widening. “Minjeong-unnie doesn’t want anyone else setting Y/n up because *she* wants to do it herself.”

“Stop twisting my words!” Winter protested, her blush deepening as she glared at Ningning.

Y/n, caught in the middle of the teasing, could only stand there, his eyes wide as the girls ganged up on Winter.

“Ya, this isn’t—” he started to say, but his words were drowned out by the escalating laughter.

“You’re blushing,” Karina pointed out, clearly enjoying the show. “It’s cute.”

“I am not!” Winter huffed, her arms tightening across her chest defensively. “You’re all ridiculous.”

The teasing only got worse from there.

“Don’t worry, unnie,” Ningning said with a wink. “If you want Y/n to stay single, all you have to do is ask.”

“I don’t want that!” Winter groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Can we just move on?”

Giselle, still laughing, patted Winter on the back. “Hey, no need to be shy. It’s okay to admit you care.”

“Ugh, you guys are the worst,” Winter muttered, her voice muffled behind her hands.

Y/n, meanwhile, was doing his best to keep his own blush under control. He had never seen Winter get this flustered before, and while he didn’t want to make things more awkward for her, the situation was undeniably hilarious.

After a few more minutes of relentless teasing, Karina finally took pity on Winter and waved her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, let’s give her a break before she explodes.”

Winter peeked out from behind her hands, her face still red but visibly relieved. “Thank you.”

But Ningning wasn’t done just yet. “So, if Winter doesn’t want me to set Y/n up... does that mean she’s volunteering?”

“Okay, that’s it,” Winter groaned, grabbing a pillow from the nearby couch and tossing it at Ningning’s face. “We’re done talking about this!”

Laughter erupted once again as Ningning dodged the pillow, her grin as wide as ever. “Fine, fine! But just know, I’m always available for matchmaking if you change your mind, Y/n.”

Y/n let out a sigh, shaking his head with a chuckle. “I think I’ll pass.”

-

After the chaos of teasing finally died down and everyone had settled back into their routines, Y/n found himself replaying the conversation in his head.

He knew the girls liked to mess around, but the way Winter had reacted earlier... it left him with a strange, fluttery feeling in his chest. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. Was it just the usual banter, or was there something more behind her defensiveness?

As he helped pack up the practice room for the day, Winter approached him, her expression noticeably less flustered now that the teasing had subsided.

“Sorry about earlier,” she said quietly, glancing away. “They can be a bit... annoying sometimes.”

Y/n smiled softly. “Ehhh… I’m used to it by now. Got that every day.”

Winter nodded, her gaze still avoiding his. “I just didn’t want them making things weird for you. Ningning has a habit of taking things too far.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassured her. “Thanks for stepping in.”

She glanced up at him then, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Anytime.”

For a brief moment, the two stood there in comfortable silence, the noise of the others packing up in the background. And while neither of them said anything more, there was an unspoken understanding between them—one that Y/n couldn’t quite put into words but felt all the same.

As they left the practice room that evening, Y/n couldn’t help but wonder if things between him and Winter were changing.

Maybe. Just maybe.

And if they were? Well... he wasn’t entirely against it.

-

The next workout session was supposed to be business as usual—just Y/n and Giselle hitting the gym like they had been doing for months. It had become a routine, something Y/n had grown to not only accept but almost look forward to, despite the occasional grumbling when Giselle pushed him a bit too hard.

But today, something was different. Or someone was.

As Y/n and Giselle entered the company gym, stretching and preparing for another gruelling session, a familiar face strolled in behind them—Winter.

“Wait,” Y/n blinked, watching as Winter tossed her bag down by the mats. “Jeong, what are you doing here?”

Winter shrugged, acting nonchalant, though there was an unmistakable determination in her eyes. “What? Can’t I join you guys? I don’t always want to be the homebody, you know.”

Giselle smirked, clearly entertained. “You? Winter? At the gym? Voluntarily?”

Winter rolled her eyes but smiled, crossing her arms. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’ve worked out before.”

“Yeah,” Giselle teased, “but your ‘workout’ is walking to the kitchen for snacks.”

“She’s right, you know?” Y/n chuckled, stretching his arms behind his head. “I’ve never seen you step foot in the gym before.”

“Well,” Winter huffed, glancing between the two of them, “today’s a new day. I figured I should at least see what all the fuss is about since you two keep talking about it.”

Giselle raised an eyebrow, amused by Winter’s sudden enthusiasm. “Uh-huh. And this doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that everyone was teasing you about Y/n yesterday, right?”

Winter’s eyes widened, her face flushing as she shook her head. “No! It has nothing to do with that! I just... wanted to try it, okay?”

Y/n bit back a grin, not wanting to embarrass Winter any further. “Well, if you’re serious about joining us, uhhh welcome.”

“Great,” Winter said, a little too quickly, as she avoided eye contact. “Let’s do this.”

-

“Why do I feel like I’m dying?” Winter panted, clutching her side as she bent over, trying to catch her breath.

“That’s because you are.” Y/n deadpanned.

“Shut…up, Jung Y/n.”

Giselle, barely breaking a sweat, glanced down at Winter with a smirk. “Told you it wasn’t going to be easy. Welcome to gym life.”

Y/n tried to suppress his laugh as he wiped his forehead with a towel. Winter had gamely joined in on their usual warm-up routine, but it was clear she wasn’t used to this kind of intense exercise. While she might have been an idol, used to dancing and rehearsing for hours, the focused, relentless pace of their workout had caught her off guard.

Winter shot him a look, narrowing her eyes. “You think this is funny?”

Y/n raised his hands in mock surrender, still smiling. “Damn right, it is.”

“You’re such a piece of bull,” she muttered, straightening up and stretching her arms over her head. “I thought I was in good shape... but this is torture.”

Giselle grinned, tapping her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. Besides, it’s good to switch things up every now and then.”

Winter groaned but nodded. “I guess.”

Y/n couldn’t help but admire her determination. Despite her complaints, she hadn’t given up, and in a way, it reminded him of his own early days at the gym—awkward, out of breath, but still pushing through.

“Alright, let’s get back to it,” Giselle said, clapping her hands together. “Next up, we’ve got some core work. You ready, Winter?”

Winter hesitated, glancing at Y/n. “Do I have a choice?”

“Nope,” Y/n said with a grin, grabbing his water bottle. “You’re stuck with us now.”

-

After a gruelling session that left even Y/n feeling the burn, the three of them finally headed back to the dorm. Winter had survived—barely—and while she complained the entire walk back, Y/n could tell she was secretly proud of herself for sticking it out.

As they reached the dorm entrance, Winter paused, stretching her arms again. “I’m never doing that again.”

“Oh, come on,” Giselle teased, unlocking the door. “You loved it.”

Winter shot her a glare. “My body says otherwise.”

As they stepped inside, they were greeted by Karina and Ningning lounging on the couch, looking far too comfortable for Y/n’s liking.

Ningning was the first to notice their return, her eyes lighting up with mischief as she sat up. “Well, well, well. Look who’s finally joining the fitness squad.”

Karina raised an eyebrow. “Minjeong, you? At the gym?”

Winter groaned, flopping onto the couch beside her. “Yes, and I regret every second of it.”

Giselle snickered, tossing her bag aside. “She did pretty well, considering she’s not used to it.”

“Used to what?” Ningning asked, looking between them.

“Working out with us,” Y/n explained, grabbing a seat in the nearby armchair. “Minjeong joined our gym session today.”

Karina blinked in surprise, then smirked. “And lived to tell the tale?”

“Barely,” Winter muttered, slumping against the cushions. “I don’t know how you guys do that every week.”

Ningning’s eyes lit up again, clearly not about to let this opportunity pass. “You’re just trying to keep up with Y/n, aren’t you?”

Winter immediately sat up, glaring at Ningning. “No! I just... wanted to try something different.”

Ningning’s grin only widened. “Suuuure. You weren’t worried about someone else setting him up with a date or anything, right?”

Winter’s face turned red as she scrambled for a response, but before she could defend herself, Karina and Giselle burst out laughing, joining in on the teasing.

“Not this again,” Winter groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

“Nope,” Ningning said cheerfully, patting her on the back. “But hey, at least you survived the workout.”

Y/n, watching the chaos unfold, couldn’t help but smile. It was good to see Winter come out of her comfort zone, even if it was for something as simple as a workout. And despite all the teasing, there was a warmth to the way the girls interacted—an unspoken understanding that they were all in this together, through thick and thin.

As the laughter died down and everyone settled into their usual spots, Y/n found himself glancing over at Winter. She caught his eye for a brief moment, and though her cheeks were still pink from the teasing, she offered him a small smile.

Maybe she wouldn’t become a gym regular like Giselle, but the fact that she had joined them—even if just for a day—was enough.

“Next time,” Y/n said, raising his water bottle, “I’ll go easy on you.”

Winter groaned again but smiled. “You better.”

“Actually. Nah. It’s funnier seeing you suffer.”

“YA-“

[milliesfishes]

⋆౨ৎ𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻 𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵 (𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮)⋆౨ৎ

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ [fem reader] contains: kidnapping, blood, angst pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: troubles throw a wrench in yours and billy's plans author’s note: tagging @phantomamor because <3 babes you really helped me with this last part and with this entire au <3 thank you all for being so lovely and supportive of this series! my apologies for the wait on this last part <3 enjoy! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The fascination anybody felt with you was everlasting, bound to stretch the eternities just like you.

Billy could feel it now as you spoke to the vendor before you, the diamond he'd so dangerously retrieved in your hands. The man had given him a decent price, but you'd stepped in, starting to speak to him in a language Billy only knew bits and pieces of. Your tone was firm, but still with a tint of sweetness to it. You were still you after all.

The second you'd begun to speak, he'd stepped aside, unsure exactly what you were doing but trusting you anyways. The vendor looked a little taken aback, but he finally nodded, saying something begrudgingly. You smiled and turned to Billy. "He's gonna give you eighty instead."

His eyebrows shot up, lips parting. "Eighty?" That was twice the original price, three times what he'd expected to get.

You stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "You worked so hard to get the diamond, you risked your life. The least you could get is more money for it."

Billy laughed a little in disbelief, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "You're a wonder darlin', honest."

While waiting for Billy's reward to be counted out, you leaned back into his chest, his arms around your collarbone. He'd been hesitant about taking you outside the ship given the status of you with his gang, but figured this was an early enough time of day that it wouldn't do any harm.

You were no longer wearing one of his shirts- the first thing he'd done upon landing was go find a kiosk selling dresses and fetch one for you. He had to admit that he missed seeing you in one of his button downs, but you were ethereal in the blue, flowy thing he'd picked out, as radiant here as you would have been wearing a ball gown. Just peeking out the slit of the dress when he looked down, there was pretty garter hugging your thigh, the point of a glass dagger restrained by it.

Billy had presented it to you just before leaving today, and the excitement in your eyes was a lovely thing to behold. He'd smiled as you tucked it under your dress, telling you it was "Just a precaution, angel." He wasn't going to have his girl walking the streets unarmed, even though he wouldn't be letting you out of his sight for a second.

He was glad he'd brought you out- the way you were looking around so excitedly was worth it alone. The way you bounced excitedly on your heels and squeezed his wrist whenever you saw something you liked was ecstasy. There weren't enough words in any language to emphasize how much he loved you.

Indeed it had been a time for firsts.

Before last week you had never kissed before, had someone to lie down with. These were beautiful things he got to teach you about.

He didn't consider having to teach you about bad things too.

One night you'd sprung upright in bed, clutching your chest and gasping, eyes blown wide for someone who'd been asleep a few seconds ago. Always a light sleeper, Billy had woken with you, seen your distress and pulled you into him. He wrapped his arms around you like wings and held you tight into him. "Shh. Baby, you're okay. You're safe, you're okay."

"I was having...a...dream," you hiccupped, fisting his shirt. "And then...it...turned...bad."

"Slow down, sweetheart. Deep breaths." Billy rubbed your back, breathing deep in and out so you would do it too. "You're gonna work yourself up." He kissed your hair, scratching your side gently.

You slowly but surely began to calm down, holding his wrist in your hand. Billy rocked you back and forth, watching the storm within you quell. "Shhh, sweet girl. It's okay."

When your breathing was steady again, you looked up at him with wide eyes, and he knew what you were asking. "'S a nightmare," he whispered, barely disturbing the quiet of the ship. "Like a dream, but scary."

Brow knitting, you cuddled back into his chest. "I've never had one before. It felt real."

"'F course it did, sweetheart," he murmured, carefully lying back down with you. Billy lifted the hem of his shirt, maneuvering it around you until it was off, tossing it away. You pressed your cheek to his chest, the sensation of his skin on yours untensing your muscles. He slid his hand under the shirt of his you were wearing, settling a warm palm on your lower back. "D'you wanna tell me what it was about?"

You were quiet for a moment. "You. You were gone." The confession shredded his heart in two, and he buried his nose in your gold-streaked hair.

His stomach dropped. Truthfully, when he'd imagined what scenarios would play out in your subconscious, he'd imagined something like your kidnapping, what the Seven Rivers had done to you. He didn't even stop to think you might be worried for him.

"'M right here, baby." Billy reached down to your waist, pulling you to rest between his legs with your head on his chest. You let out a little sigh, shifting to get comfortable. He was content that he had been able to calm down. But it terrified him that he couldn't protect you from everything.

Reaching up now, you touched his arms, thumbs rubbing him there. He kissed your temple. Ever since the day he'd been injured, you'd been clinging to him like he was the last thing in the world, trying out what he'd taught you. Your lips had touched every bit of his face and then some, every kiss setting his heart blazing. He loved that you wanted to have him near like this.

As he looked at you now, light as the air and happy as always, just watching the surrounding crowd, there was such an air of innocence about you.

You were glowing in the light of day, a goddess in your own right. Billy couldn't help staring- it didn't matter how many times he woke up next to you or even looked at you. He would always be enchanted by every little detail you exuded. The best of the universe gathered together in your shape.

Turning in his arms, you kissed him lightly, smiling adorably afterward. Billy's own smile was sparked by yours, and he lifted you up by the waist, letting you stand on his boots so you could reach. "Hi angel," he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. In the sunlight you shimmered like glitter, and he swore whenever you walked a trail of magic followed like fairy dust.

When the vendor passed him his money, Billy shoved it in his pocket, turning his attention back to you. You clung to his arm, squeezing him there and smiling adoringly up at him. "Everything okay?"

"Perfect." He took your hand, unable to stop touching you for more than a few minutes. "C'mon sweetheart. I owe you some cuddles."

You bounced on your heels, a spark lighting in your eyes. Billy was about to lead you away, wishing the walk was faster. He could practically feel the mattress under his back already, his hand maybe sliding up your skirt-

There was a shout from nearby, and he froze mid-step, startled by it. You squeezed his hand, and he pushed you a little behind him, protective instincts flaring like a fire.

A crowd was forming a little bit away, and you stood on tiptoes, trying to see what was going on. He smiled. His curious girl.

"Let's see what all the fuss is about," he said, rubbing your fingers and letting you lead him over to the crowd. When you were still craning your neck, he slid his arms around you, lifting you up to his eye level. A smile bloomed over your face at the motion, and he pecked your cheek, turning to the scene finally.

What he saw made his veins freeze like ice.

A woman restrained, her hair golden and loose, struggling against the surely rough hands of an officer wearing the official patch of the IJF. He was shouting, but the brazen remarks fell blurry on Billy's ears.

There was a man standing a few feet away, his yelling adding to the chaotic swirl. He was holding his arm, a gash dripping crimson onto the cobblestone. "She stabbed me. Did you see? She stabbed me-"

"My blood isn't yours to take," she snarled, shiny freckles catching the light as she whipped her head to look at him.

"Both of you shut it," the officer barked, restraining the woman in handcuffs. Now her chest was heaving, and he could see the fear in her eyes. It reminded him of-

Turning to you, he saw your round eyes and stiff limbs. You slowly lifted your gaze to his, a wild desperation in it. That was a woman just like you, another person of the stars, the same blood running through her veins. She was practically a sister. He could knew what you wanted to do before you moved.

Billy's arms tightened around you, and he swung one down to lift your knees, anticipating your next actions. "Let's go."

You struggled, looking over his shoulder as he began to walk away, boots clunking rudely. Tugging on his shirt, body twisting in his arms, your breathing sped up, voice nearly tearful. "We have to go...we have to help her-" Billy shook his head once, and your fist pounded his chest. "Billy. Billy put me down-" your voice was as serious as death, and you sounded mad.

"You can't do anything for her now...honey..." He patiently held firm to you, sucking in a breath when you tried to undo his hand from your waist, nearly making him drop you. "Don't do that, sweetie."

There was a tear on each of your cheeks like sunspots, and his heart broke. Your breath hitched and you began to cry, taking his face in your hands and trying to turn it back toward the scene. "Take me back...please..." Every syllable was broken, like a crumbling bridge.

Painstakingly, he ignored your words, not pausing once in the journey back to the ship. Having been involved in a crowd often targeted by the law, he knew if not anything that in the heat of the moment, two people in the same group would be seen as one. He wouldn't risk the officer seeing you and finding some reason to take you away too, especially if you tried to help the other star-woman he was detaining.

No matter how right you were to try.

Billy only put you down when he was in the ship, shutting the door quickly. But at that point, the fight had been taken out of you, and you stood in front of him, eyes trained on the ground ashamedly.

He moved cautiously to you, reaching out to grasp your hands. You still wouldn't look at him. Taking in a breath, Billy was about to say something comforting maybe, when you rushed forward, burying your face in his chest.

Warm tears bled into his shirt, and he secured an arm around you, pressing the other to your head. There was no need to say anything.

In all his years collecting bounties, he'd never held anything near as precious. For all the places he'd travelled, his eyes had never taken in anything as beautiful. You were the reason the word treasure was invented.

And he was no fool. He knew what he had and he knew to keep you safe.

You made his lap look like a throne.

Sitting with your legs on either side of his on the mattress, skirt pulled up your thighs, kissing him slowly, he could have mistaken you for a deity. Your hips were rocking slightly back and forth into his, as if you weren't aware of it. One of his hands was tangled in your soft hair, the other on your thigh, rubbing up and down. You liked those little comforts during kisses, he'd learned, and it only made him love you more.

He kissed your nose, pulling back for a moment. Wrapping his arms fully around your waist, Billy rolled you over, making you laugh as he held himself up above you, dipping his neck to kiss your forehead. Then your cheek. Then your nose again, just because you were so cute.

Neither of you had spoken about the day in the market since, although it had shaken you, he could see. Knowing you didn't want to bring it up, he showed you he cared instead, giving you extra loving day and night.

Both of your arms was flung above your head atop your hair, which was spread out like a halo. Billy gave you a fond look, kissing your collarbone and letting his chin nestle between your breasts. The dress you were wearing was cut deep in the neck, and so he had plenty of access to your skin.

You hummed, your chest vibrating under his chin. "Billy?"

He kissed your tummy. "Yes, angel?"

That got a little smile out of you, and you slid a hand into his hair, scratching his scalp gently. "Don't you have to be to the other ship in twenty minutes?"

"Ah-" Billy kissed your tummy again with a smack, sliding his arms under your waist and rolling you over, making you dissolve into giggles. "But that's in twenty minutes." Your hair fell on either side of his face like a curtain, and he stroked your cheek, nudging your face closer to his. "So gimme some more kisses, darlin'." He knew how much you loved them.

You giggled again and pressed your lips to his, eliciting a satisfied hum from him. He blinked lazily at you, gathering some of your hair and pressing it behind your ear just so he could touch it. Where you had been hovering over him a bit before, now you let your body nestle in, chest pressed to his as you rested your chin on folded arms. "I don't want them to suspect anything."

"They won't suspect a thing." Billy sat up, his big hands under your arms to steady you. He pressed one, then two kisses to your nose. "Ain't the first time I've been late cause I was kissin' you."

"Yeah?" Your knees were bent, positioned under his arms as you sat facing him between his legs.

"Yeah." He stroked your thighs, and you smiled sweetly before untangling yourself from him and standing up, leaving him with his legs sprawled out on the bed. Billy made a disapproving noise, reaching for you again.

You straightened your dress that he'd artfully messed up, adjusting the top back over your chest. "You should hurry and get it over with."

Billy held out his arms, playing his final card. "You sure? We could have some cuddles 'fore I leave." He said it in a tempting way, shifting comfortably on the bed.

When you bit your lip, he could practically hear you considering. You loved cuddling more than you loved kisses, which was saying something. He'd never met anybody who liked physical affection as much as you, and it heartened him. That was something he could give in abundance.

For a moment he thought he had you, but then you shook your head. "No. I wanna have longer cuddles later."

Sighing, Billy dropped his arms, swinging his legs to the edge of the bed and reaching for his boots. "Alright, alright." He stood, stopping right in front of you. You were giving him a look that suggested you were expecting him to pull you back into bed for just a few more minutes.

Instead he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, reveling in your glow for just a brief second. "I'll hurry, angel. Won't be gone longer 'n an hour."

The stars in your eyes were a supernova.

They were burned into his vision the entire walk to the Seven Rivers ship, and he kept your imprint on his heart close as he handed over the dealings to Jesse. "You get a good vendor this time?"

"No, just decided to take more blood." The words were foreign in Billy's mouth, and they felt strange coming out. He reminded himself that he was just playing a part, even though it made him feel awful. He'd repent with extra kisses later. "There's another job I took a little out of bounds. Figured I'd get you the money for a few weeks' worth for while I'm gone."

It was a half-lie. Billy was planning on going out of bounds, but really he was spiriting you away for a little while. Some time with his girl without the looming threat of the gang hanging over your heads.

Jesse raised an eyebrow, but nodded, looking back down at the money. "Seems right. Y'know, prices for this stuff've been goin' up. Don't know why." Billy swallowed, remembering the incident in the market.

His eyes lifted to a healing scratch on Billy's arm, one he'd obtained while stealing the diamond. "You have some trouble gettin' it?"

"Gettin' what?"

"The blood." Jesse gave him a funny look, nodding at his arm. "She scratch ya or somethin'?"

Billy followed his eyes. "No, ah...shirt caught on a corner. Got me bad."

His friend looked wary, leaning back in his seat. Jesse's makeshift office on the ship contained nothing but two chairs and a large crate that acted as a table. Right now it was strewn with papers and coins. Still, Billy felt himself shrink back, feeling as though his mind was being read.

Jesse clicked his tongue. "Y'know...after we had her aboard and got blood out of her the one time our fingers were stained for weeks with gold." He looked pointedly at Billy. "Ya'd think for all the blood you're gettin'...your hands'd be shinier 'n silver."

Billy couldn't help looking at his clean hands even though he knew what he'd see. Roughened but not dirty. He bit the side of his cheek, scrambling for an answer. "Well...I had to figure out a new way, y'know? Didn't want blood all over me all the damn time." He was playing defensive and he hoped it wouldn't come across as fake. Jesse was better than a hound when he wanted to be.

Holding his breath, Billy watched the other man watch him, eyes boring in. He could have beamed a hole through Billy's chest with that stare. Mind racing, he prayed he would take the bait, be satisfied with his money and not bother to discover how he got it.

Finally Jesse stood, holding out his hand for a shake. "Well, good on ya for figurin' it out. Ain't that somethin'?"

Withholding a sigh of relief, Billy smiled, nodding and standing, clasping his friend's hand. "It is."

But the conversation didn't leave his mind for a long while as he meandered back to his ship, cutting through the marketplace. Maybe Jesse had let it go for now...but what if he decided to come check up just in case? What if you were alone when he did? Billy's blood ran cold as he imagined you defenseless against the same group of men who'd attacked and kidnapped you.

He drummed his fingers on his thigh, looking around. The crowd wasn't as thick as it usually was whenever he walked through here. He could clearly see the vendors and their wares, their tables of goods. The memory of you raising his pay for the diamond rose up, and he smiled, remembering how impressed he'd been. How he'd wanted to shout to the world that that was his girl.

Then he remembered the look on your face as you'd watched the woman arrested for protecting herself. The way you'd cried quietly after you thought he'd gone to sleep, his arms wrapped around you.

Suddenly the desire to get back to you was paramount. Billy was about to move forward when something caught the corner of his eye, making him pause and turn to look at it fully.

Red boldened letters stamped to a piece of paper already worn by the climate. When he turned back to the side, he saw dozens more plastered to walls and even the poles of vendor stands.

Billy's brow furrowed. Was there a new policy he was unaware of? Something that would limit his comings and goings? He thought anxiously of how he'd been planning to take you away. His permit to travel so far wasn't valid for at least a few more days, and he wondered if whatever was posted all over the city would prohibit it.

Tearing the poster from the clumsily hammered nail, he scanned the contents of it- one enormous headline and fine print scrawled underneath.

Something doused him like a bucket of ice water, the hair on his arms standing at attention. Billy could feel his heartbeat in his ears, and he crumpled the paper into his pocket, breaking into a run for the ship.

Star People To Be Apprehended

"Anyone fitting the description of a Star Person will be detained upon sight. Citizens are encouraged to alert the authorities if they see a person or persons they suspect may be of this variety in exchange for a monetary reward. The punishment for harboring a Star Person is detainment for life."

By the order of the Intergalactic Justice Forces

"Fifteen minutes?"

"Fifteen minutes."

You pouted, folding your arms and giving him doe eyes. "Why can't I just come with you? If it's not even going to be that long?"

Billy gave you an exasperated but fond smile. "Because I've gotta stop for a few things on the way back. Can't have you in the market out in the open, sweet girl." He looked down at you, head in his lap. He'd been absentmindedly playing with your hair, braiding a strand the way you taught him how. There was a flower in your hair, stem woven around your ear, completing the vision. You were heavenly, even when you were frowning so adorably up at him.

"Maybe I can go to the market while you're getting the permit," you said, looking up at him hopefully. The messy bedsheets pictured you so perfectly.

He rubbed his thumb over your cheek, watching you melt into his touch. "No."

Huffing, you sat up, giving him a longing look that pulled at the loose threads of his heart where he'd stitched it up from the last time you'd pulled that face. "I haven't left the ship in three days Billy. I wanna go outside."

"I know, honey," he soothed, hand on your thigh stroking gently. "But we're gonna be outta here as soon as I get back 'n then we'll go far, far away from. We'll land somewhere real pretty." He said the last part hopefully, wanting to placate you for now.

But if you were a flower, your petals would be wilting. He could see your spirit dissipating like a misty cloud. Even on the road you'd been able to come outside provided you stayed in the vicinity of the ship.

But Billy wasn't about to take a single risk now.

He clasped one of your hands, meeting your eyes. It felt like every time he did he was starstruck by your sheer beauty. There wasn't a way to turn it off and he didn't want it to. "We'll be gone soon. It'll all be okay. Yeah?" Billy cupped your cheek in one hand, his palm shadowing your golden freckles.

You looked tired. He felt a pang of guilt, the emotion chewing at the corners of his organs. It had been a constant weight like a stone in his core ever since he'd seen the notice.

Asking around, he'd found out it had been triggered by the incident he'd seen with you. The Seven Rivers member he'd talked to had made it out to be a good thing, like your people were a vermin to be exterminated. "Lotsa folks’ e been feelin' the same way," he'd said proudly, adjusting his holster. "'Bout time someone did somethin' bout it. Filthy bastards."

It'd taken a massive amount of self-control to walk away.

The notice angered him beyond belief. It was well-known, if not acknowledged, that the Star People were treated as less than all because of the value of their life source. And now the law was using one incident to determine the fate of your entire species.

There had been whispers of the IJF selling blood in the past on secret markets. But Billy hadn't subscribed to it-he'd had no reason to. Now his only reason for anything was being threatened because of it.

He was grateful that the two of you were planning to leave anyways. Only he was damn certain that wherever he was taking you, he wasn't coming back. He'd wire Jesse and tell him that you had passed from blood loss (though the thought made him sick) and the two of you would be free forever.

There had only been the matter of his permit, and now, on the day he was set to pick it up, liberty was so close he could taste it.

Even though it was for a brief period of time, Billy couldn't stand the thought of you being miserable. He felt like a jailer, keeping you hostage aboard this ship even though it was for the best.

You never said anything of the like about him. No, you were too sweet, too good. It wasn't in you to resent him. But he resented himself for it.

The instinct to get you off this planet as soon as possible was surging within him now, and so he reached for you, relieved when you let him pull you into his chest. Your arms wrapped around him, warming a fire in his chest like always. Billy dug his nose into your hair, kissing your part. "I'm sorry. It's been tough, huh?"

"Yeah," you breathed, your fingers trailing up and down his back. His lips nudged your hair once more, and you looked up, a tiny smile on your face. "It's okay though."

Billy shook his head. "We can do better than that, angel." He framed your face in his hands, growing your smile a little bit more. "We will. There's lots of flowers where we're goin'."

"Lots of flowers?"

"Lots," he promised, thumbing your cheeks. "'n they're all growin' there, waitin' for you, sweetheart."

Now your smile had spread tenfold, and you tilted your chin up, your darling way of asking for a kiss. He indulged you with a smile of his own, and you muttered against his lips, "You should get going then."

"There's my girl," he chuckled, giving into the urge for one more kiss and standing up. You fluttered your fingers at him, and he tipped his hat as he put it on his head. "I'll be back soon, angel."

"Mkay," you hummed, rolling over onto your stomach and playing with a strand of your hair. He let his eyes linger on you before he left, your memory following him like perfume.

The exchange for the permit was fairly quick, and he whistled as he went about his business in the market, ignoring the guards blatantly stationed at the edges. They were eagle-eyed, scanning the perimeter and clutching their weapons. Always wary of the law, Billy kept his eyes down as he made his purchases.

He had been about to make his way out of the area that was now so tainted in his eyes, when a circlet with a simple star affixed to it caught his eye. Stopping to examine it, he nearly lit up from the inside out. Oh it was perfect for you. Something pretty to mark the start of your new life together.

Unfortunately, the line for that particular stall was long, and Billy thought about backing out a few times before ultimately deciding to stay. You deserved something nice after the hard few days you'd had. Besides, he knew you would love the bracelet. Jewelry was something you were utterly fascinated by, and he'd have you dripping with it if he could.

Finally he was able to pay, pushing through the hot crowd in a hurry. Where he had said he'd be gone fifteen minutes it'd now been nearly forty. Billy could only hope you weren't worried, that maybe you'd fallen asleep and he'd be able to crawl into bed with you in a few minutes.

Turning the bend into the grove where his ship was parked, Billy shifted the bag on on his hip when the scene before him made him freeze cold.

The door to the ship was open. And Jesse was kneeling on the ramp, holding a familiar flower between his fingers. One that had been lying amidst the stripes of gold in your hair almost an hour ago.

The bag slipped from his arms, and he hurtled forward like a meteorite, grabbing Jesse by the shirt collar and pinning him to the doorframe, breath hot as an angry bull's. "The hell did you do with her?" Billy demanded, grip tightening by the second. Images of the Seven Rivers Gang turning you in for a cash prize filled his mind, only furthering his rage. "Where is she?"

"I don't know!" Jesse held up his hands, eyes like saucers as he took in Billy's white hot rage. "Swear. Promise. I just came by-"

"Did you see who took her?" The words tumbled from his mouth like dominoes.

"She was just out here," Jesse managed, looking between Billy's eyes. His hat was askew, and he was clinging to the wall, collar pulled taut as he backed into it. "By herself. She was just standin' here. 'N then one 'f the IJF came outta nowhere and got her."

The IJF...no... Billy let go of Jesse's collar, the world spinning beneath his feet. He stumbled back, turning to look into the distance as if he could spot them taking you away. No no no...how had they found out? How did they know...? Someone must have seen you with him in town... But it didn't matter, not really. All that mattered was that you weren't safe.

There was a hand on his shoulder, and Billy nearly drew his gun. But it was just Jesse again, a strange look in his eyes like he'd never seen before. His friend was known for being cutthroat, a gang member down to his details. But now he was softened like butter in the sun. "She was your girl?"

It didn't matter anymore. "Yeah."

Flatteniing his lips, Jesse nodded. "Figured. Came by here to catch you in the act. Or somethin'."

Billy said nothing. He felt utterly despondent now, every sense blurring him. You must have been worried, wondering where he was. Maybe you would have wandered into the marketplace in search of him. Eyes falling to the plank, Billy noticed a spot of gold staining the metal that hadn't been there before. Something constricted in his chest, and he shut his eyes.

"Hey." Jesse shook his shoulder, his mouth set in a rigid line. "We can get her out."

"How?" The single word was dry, void of any emotion. All he could think of was you, terrified and helpless in a faraway place. Who knew where they had taken you, if you were even still alive?

"I know where they hold prisoners." Billy perked up, eyes lighting like fireworks. Jesse nodded again, patting his holster. "Ain’t the first time I’ve needed to break someone out. If we both go in, it'll be an easy take. You'll have 'er and then you can get outta here fast."

As Billy looked at his friend, turned foe for a while over the greatest love of his life, a flash of memories flooded him. All the times Jesse had stood up for him, helped him when nobody else would. He'd forgotten the brotherhood of bearing arms together, of making a hard living over and over while living in close quarters.

He'd forgotten his first friend.

Straightening up, Billy nodded, brows knitting together. "Lead the way."

With a half-smile, Jesse clapped his shoulder, turning to walk off the ship. The sun was setting, and it outlined him in gold. Billy couldn't help but think of you, the way you glowed without the radiance of any star behind you.

You were the star.

Jesse was right. It hadn't been a problem getting in. Two guards were taken out no problem, passed out in the dirt from the force of his punch. He and Jesse found a corner to hide behind, shoulders pressed together as they watched the passing patrols.

The structure was surprisingly simple, hidden not too far from the marketplace in the trees. And, he realized with an ache, terribly close to where you had lived when you'd first met him. The concrete walls were made for secrets of the law that he didn't even want to imagine, and he realized how lucky you'd been not to be eyed by the IJF before.

It was hauntingly silent, like a dug grave. Billy certainly felt six feet under as he looked down the hallway, at the row of doors, numbers written in chalk below the tiny windows.

There was no way to know which one you were behind, and he took in a frustrated breath as he thought about it. Sneaking through the forest, he'd caught glimpses of your ancestors winking down at him against the darkened sky. Billy had begged in his head for them to keep you safe, to protect you as best they could until he could get to you. I'll take over from there, I'll never leave her alone again.

Jesse nodded at the empty hallway, Billy's signal to start moving. He crept carefully into the area, glancing briefly through every window for your distinct glow. It ached his heart that he did see a few shining people similar to you, those who had gold in their veins. But they weren't you, and so he pressed on, thinking of the way you'd tried to run to the woman in the market that day.

You were brave, boldly beautiful in every one of your desires. He hadn't ever told you that, he needed to tell you that. Billy chided himself. You weren't dead. He would tell you when you were snuggled up in his arms again, far away and safe.

Approaching the last door, his heart fluttered hopefully. You had to be in here. There weren't any other cells in the facility, he'd made sure of it. But it hit him like a gut punch when the square space was empty.

Dread fell on him like rain, soaking every bit of his mind. You weren't here. A thousand other possibilities swam through his head, most of them assuming the worst. You'd been taken from him without doing anything wrong, and it was like ripping an angel from heaven and sending it to hell.

Grasping the door handle, eyes combing every bit of the space as if he'd somehow missed you. As if he couldn't have picked you out of a crowd of millions. No, no you had to be here. How...

No.

He didn't know what they had been planning on doing with those they captured. The rumors of blood use swam before his eyes. They wouldn't...they couldn't...

His heart sank, a stone in a river. As it thudded at his stomach, his mind unwillingly produced visions of a life without you. A life missing you. Billy had tossed aside all prophecies of what he'd thought his life would be before he met you. But now they were swimming to the surface, poking their heads up and waving. He would never find it in him to reach for any of them, put them on his mantle of dreams.

Knees weak, he shut his eyes, feeling faint. Oh claim him, stars above. Send him to be with you in the sky, your natural sphere. Or tell him at least which star was yours so he could gaze upon it every night. He'd settle for it, he'd get on his knees and thank your ancestors for that. If only to keep some semblance of you in his life.

He could imagine himself old and gray, no longer your handsome outlaw, staring up at the sky and hoping you remembered that he loved you. As unworthy as he had been, he had gotten one thing right.

Jesse came up beside him, gun drawn, and Billy forced himself to look up, not caring if his friend saw him in the depths of despair, where he would remain forever. Maybe he'd take him back in, to live on the Seven Rivers ship. Billy couldn't imagine going back to his ship, where he'd kissed and loved you so obviously. Your memory would haunt those hallowed halls, a spirit he would never be able to hold the same way again.

"C'mon, we've gotta go." Jesse didn't look excited about it, his eyes heavy. "They're gonna find us if we stay any longer-"

A scream tore into the night's poetry, blood seeping from the pages. Billy's ears perked up, and his heart grew lighter, floating back up to its place as he realized. Maybe it was a lover's instinct, but he knew.

It was you. It had to be you.

Turning to Jesse, Billy said, "Cover me." Hardly a pause passed before the other man nodded, holding his gun at the ready. Billy no longer cared about being quiet as he clomped through the halls, guards springing up from nowhere and aiming, firing shot after shot. Billy's gun was ruthless, and he shot without thinking, head only in one place. The scream had come from the furthest end of the prison. He could see the door in the distance, the only one in the area. When he'd searched the area earlier he'd assumed it was just an office.

Jesse shouted something and Billy ducked, narrowly missing a well placed hit. His feet couldn't move quick enough, and he grew impatient of the guards that kept coming up. It was endless, it seemed, especially when you were waiting at the end of the hallway.

One guard tossed aside his weapon and tackled Billy, knocking him flat to the ground and sending his own gun clattering. He was beefy, thicker, and Billy struggled under his arms, fists swinging. Firm knuckles smashed into his nose, and he winced, eyes watering, the familiar wetness of blood on his lip.

Adrenaline surging, Billy jammed his elbow up into his chest, hitting the sweet spot and making his opponent wheeze, body going limp. In a quick motion, Billy was able to shove him to the side and grasp his gun, scrambling to his feet and sprinting toward the door. It was like a golden beacon in the distance.

There were shots behind him, but he didn't risk a look back Jesse was a more experienced fighter than he was, and he could hold his own against a great deal of men.

Heaven was the touch of the doorknob under his fingers, cool metal on his hot skin. You were inches away, practically in his arms already. Billy swung the door open, gun drawn and ready to end whoever was holding you hostage.

The sight that greeted him nearly made him drop it again.

A body on the floor in a pool of scarlet leaking like a waterfall from the wound in his chest. Punctured by a glass dagger.

And you standing over it, hands over your mouth, dress a mess of gold and crimson.

Relief cascaded Billy like an avalanche before he had a chance to dissect the scene. He said your name once, voice gravelly, and your head snapped up, eyes going round. The tear tracks on your face may as well have been rivers. Your lower lip trembled. "Billy."

He stumbled towards you, taking you in his arms and collapsing to his knees. You were shaking like a leaf in autumn, shivering against his chest. Billy held you so tight he was worried you weren't able to breathe. But you clung to him, crying desperately into him.

Billy looked down at the body, recognizing the dagger and going still, realizing what had happened. He said a silent thank you to whatever had inspired him to get it for you.

No matter the reason, you were stricken with something beyond what Billy had seen in you before. Something he hadn't been able to protect you from, something he should have been there to defend you against.

Following his instincts, he stood, bringing you up with his arms supporting your body. You weren't walking out if he had a thing to say about it.

Jesse appeared in the doorway, blood on his clothes. He hardly blinked at the scene before him, instead gesturing to Billy. "Hurry. Think I got 'em all for now but there's more coming."

Before Billy could start to run, you reached up, burying your face in his neck and fisting his shirt. Your words were muffled, but he felt them. You were a language he was better versed in than his native tongue.

"I left the ship." The blame in your voice broke his heart.

Billy pressed his lips to your forehead, wincing when some of the blood from his lip came off on your skin. With your ancestors as his witness, you would never see another drop of blood, yours or anyone's again.

"No, I left." He heard footsteps in the distance and started to run, keeping you tight in his arms. "And I'm never doin' that again."

Exquisite things came in abundances in nature. Billy needed more than two hands to count them all, especially on this planet.

It was the epitome of peace, with towers of greenery, cities of flora and fauna as if a storybook had come to life. The wildlife was abundant and willing and beautiful, fluttering through the air and lying down in patches of sunshine.

He couldn't have dreamt up a better place to settle with you.

Here where he was standing on the porch of the cottage he'd built you, ship a greyish dot in the distance, he had a clear view of you in the field before the house, gathering flowers into bouquets of your own marvelous creation. There were flowers on just about every flat surface of your home, but he wasn't about to tell you to stop bringing them in.

You brushed your hair over one shoulder, grass tickling your calves as you moved to the side to pluck the perfect flower from the earth. Beautiful things find beautiful things.

This was one of his favorite things. To watch you in your element, when you were quiet, content in your heart. It had taken months since everything to get to this point.

He didn't know if you would ever forget that night. The things you'd been forced to do. Billy would suck that memory from your mind with a straw if he could, only leaving you with happy things. Every night that you woke up crying from more nightmares, which had become frequent, he pleaded with some higher power to put all the pain on him. He would bear your cross and let it weigh him down because it was yours. And if you ended up consuming his being he wouldn't complain for a second.

Billy began to make his way to you, never in a rush. He'd done enough running in his life. Now was a time for staying. Wanderlust was a thing of the past. Maybe he hadn't realized that he'd really been searching for something. And that something was looking up at him now, beaming like a sun and holding up a handful of flowers.

Reaching out, he smiled when you wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling into his chest. The star bracelet on your wrist caught the light, as did the gold in your hair. He inhaled softly, your ambrosial scent overwhelming his senses.

Thick and thin. The worst of the worst. He'd do it all over again if it meant he got to have this forever.

There was a wire from Jesse waiting inside. Likely something lighthearted, letting Billy know the comings and goings of Seven Rivers as usual. He smiled at the thought, but then you leaned up and pressed your mouth to his and he decided it could wait.

When you bounced on your tiptoes, Billy lifted you up and your legs wrapped around his waist. You leaned forward and nudged your nose against his. "You know, I think we'll be a constellation someday."

"Yeah?" The idea turned the future from silver to gold. "When you're in the sky again I'll be there too?"

You giggled, a swan song, and kissed him again, murmuring into him, "I'll hold onto you so tight that you can only come with me."

That sweet sentiment crawled over Billy like a vine, and he let his fingers glide up your back, eyes melting like warm chocolate.

"You hold onto me as tight 's you want angel. I ain't goin' anywhere."

[judesmoonbeauty]

Jude's Leg Strength & A Coal Mine?

Forgive this post as it is impromptu, but please humor me for a minute......I was driving home and thinking about Jude's legs (because that IS normal), and in particular about how much Cybird emphasizes their strength. Jude's always on the run, and everyone talks about how strong they are. Under the cut for minor spoilers.

Initially, I chocked it up to something along the lines of, "Well, in Dark IF he was on the run from people who were after him as a little kid, so it may be a hint for his main story as a little kid always on the run." And this may very well be the case.

But then I thought, well that's one possibility, what are some other ways he could've gotten such strong legs that would have to be developed over time. This is how my brain works:

Jude ➡ Strong legs ➡ He's a runner ➡ Running ➡ Running ➡ Running for work ➡ Work ➡ Work ➡ What kind of work? ➡ Courier? ➡ Nah ➡ Servant? ➡ Nope ➡ Chimney Sweep ➡ Chimney Sweep??? WTF? ➡ Ah, Fire ➡ Fire needs coal ➡ Jude's Coal mine ➡ Coal mine ➡ Coal mine ➡

JUDE WORKED IN A COAL MINE?

I got home and looked up 'coal workers in Victorian times' and found this (if you want to read it yourself).

Turns out that children were often employed to work in coal mines as:

Hurriers and Thrusters.

Young children tended to work in pairs pushing and pulling carts of coal together in narrow roadways, the hurrier would pull it, while the thruster pushed it. Older children and women did this task alone.

The tubs could weigh about 600 kg or 1,377 lbs. The height of the tunnels could be between 60-120 cm or 1.9-3.9 ft.

There were also other positions:

Trapper: Reserved for the youngest child in the family, they'd be responsible the entire shift to open and close the door to the mine.

Getter: Usually, this was for the strongest youth in the family or for males. They sat at the coal face with a pick axe and chipped away the coal bits.

The entire family would usually work together so they could make enough money. Typically, a child was eight years old when they started to work in the mines, but could be as young as five. From the photos, it looks like sheer backbreaking, eye-straining hell.

Ah, a law was put into place in 1842 that stated children under the age of 10 couldn't work in the mines, but what if the owner of the coal mine kept it a secret that he had children under that age working, or Jude may have been about 10 years of age (presuming upon Dark IF).

The Theory: Jude may have worked in the coal mines as a hurrier or thruster. It would definitely explain the incredible strength that he's built up in his legs, and consequently crushes people's jaws with so easily. Hmm, and it could explain why Jude has a coal mine or at least has the authority to send someone to a coal mine.

In the switch up story, Jude tells the thieves that he can either sell them or send them to slave away in a coal mine until they die.

Hahaha, wouldn't it be just like Jude to purchase the coal mine that he and his family may have been forced to work in when they were little, and then force the task masters and/or the owner of the mine to work in darkness until they were dead. That is not a stretch to me.

I mean, his family could've likely developed CWP or Black Lung Disease. True, asthma may have run in his family, but inhaling the dust over time would not only aggravate their pre-existing condition, but it would cause them to develop that illness as well. Couple that with weak and tired bodies, with no money for medicine......you get the picture.

Of course, this is just for fun and I could be totally wrong, but it was fun to think more about his past and how he developed such strength in his legs.

Okay, good chat everyone! Now, I'll go translate.

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! Thank you for the role you play in this fandom, I don't know what we would do without Aziraphale's fic library

Today I wanted to ask if you knew fics where Aziraphale and Crowley are bitter exes who end up realizing later that they haven't stopped loving the other.

Thank you 💛

Hi! We have #getting back together and #reunion tags you can check for plenty more fics like this. Here are more to add...

Even Now, I Still Love You by Zakani_Donovan (T)

It had been 6 years since Crowley had last spoken to Aziraphale, and considering their nasty little breakup, he hadn't expected their next conversation to start with them suddenly being neighbors.

Down to the River by CemeteryAngel725 (E)

Twenty-five years ago, Tony Crowley walked out of Azi’s life and broke both of their hearts. Since then, Azi has been living in suspended animation, working in the army/navy surplus booth he inherited from his dad and writing horror novels. Now Tony is back from the city, flush with success and wanting to catch up with Azi. Should Azi risk his heart and try to reclaim what they’ve lost? Or is it too late to start over?

Reason Enough by ffonippop (E)

Crowley and Aziraphale’s entire relationship spanned just a little under eleven months. If dissected, the entire affair can be categorized very neatly into three parts: a rocky beginning, a rocky middle, and a rocky end. It devastates Crowley, how something that was so promising and held so much potential could end in such a shitstorm. Diminished to nothing but a hungover, sad, and lonely stain on his couch, Crowley is left to wonder if it was always going to end this way— or if it’s ended yet at all.

Like a Martyr, Not Enough (The Decoy Bride) by vines_and_vellichor (M)

Author Aziraphale Eastlowe had been a dutiful son for the entirety of his life… mostly. After a bout of teenage rebellion, he learnt that disobedience only brings misery and heartbreak to those he cares about; it’s better for everyone to toe the line and make the most out of the plan that has been laid out for you by your family and God. When a courtship with the famous Christian singer Gabriella Archer presented an opportunity to exit the dog-eat-dog world of city life, the last thing he expected was an existence plagued by writer’s block and a wedding so enticing to the British press that the privilege of a private ceremony was tantamount to successfully teaching a duck to play the accordion. In desperation, they turn to Taddesfild, a remote island in the Outer Hebrides, to marry. Things go south when a convoluted plan by Gabriella’s agents culminates in hiring local resident Anthony J Crowley as a decoy bride to put the paparazzi off the scent. The very person Aziraphale distinctly remembered dumping nineteen years ago. The situation is less than ideal: his fiancee is missing, the island is infested with bloodthirsty photographers and he has just accidentally gotten married to his ex.

Borrowed Words by sunrisesinthesuburbs (M)

Anthony J. Crowley, best selling author, has writer's block. He could blame the Accident, but deep down he knows his block started way before. He hasn't written anything in too long, if we choose to ignore the dozens of unsent letters addressed to the angel he lost two decades ago, when he moved to New York City. When his best (and only) friend convinces him to take a little vacation in a small town in Connecticut, he expects peace and quiet. He doesn't expect to see the smile that still haunts his dreams again. Apparently, small towns are full of surprises, and how late is too late? The world stops spinning on its axis or, at the very least, Crowley stops breathing. This is absolutely impossible. He forces himself to swallow, to take a deep breath, as he doesn’t want to scare this girl off. Muriel, who is still smiling, all bright and wide and just like- Oh, God. “A bookshop, you said?” He chokes out. This is impossible, and he’s being ridiculous. He is in London, this is just a sick coincidence and his stupid brain playing stupid games. “Yes, you can see it if you turn around.” Crowley doesn’t move. “It’s called A. Z. Fell Books.” Now, the world definitely stops spinning.

Sinking Ships by AppleSeeds (E)

The world is practically on fire and it feels like nobody's doing anything about it, but Crowley's outlook brightens considerably when a new member arrives at his local climate action committee. Crowley is immediately smitten, and is thrilled when he and Aziraphale become fast friends, although he can't help but hope they might one day become something more. When all of his wishes come true, Crowley starts to feel like life couldn't possibly get any better. He can picture exactly what his future is going to look like, until something happens that feels like a powerful bolt of lightning has struck and split Crowley's life right down the middle, with everything before that moment on one side, and everything that is to come - scorched, lifeless and devastated - on the other. With the help of a counsellor, Crowley begins the difficult journey of picking up the pieces and working through what's happened. When Aziraphale unexpectedly comes back into his life, Crowley finally has the chance to get some answers, revealing that the truth is very different from what he was led to believe. Now he just needs to figure out whether that changes anything.

- Mod D

[mendeshoney]

this close isn't close enough

a/n: happy thirsty thurday fellow harlots ^_^

this is a small little part 3 ish/sequel to take me back to eden (you can find part one here and part two here) that just popped into my head and i figured i'd jot it down for you all to enjoy. it does discuss wanting and trying for a child, so if that's not something you're comfortable with, this may not be for you, so read with caution. this is for @pyotrkochetkov and @smileysvech because without them this fictional andrei wouldn't exist! title is from "melt" by kehlani

warnings/tags: nine year age gap, older man x younger woman, slice of married life, baby fever, fluff, lots of smut, shower sex, hotel sex (semi-public, against the window), oral sex, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy/impregnation

word count: 12,163

“Almaznyy?” Andrei calls out, removing his reading glasses with one hand as he shuts his laptop with the other, then rubs the bridge of his nose.

He counts to ten in his head, waiting for your response, but it doesn’t come. The soft and familiar whrrrrr of a machine echoes back at him instead, and he sighs, a small smile stretching across his face as he gets up from his desk to wander down the hall.

When he makes it down the hall and to the threshold that leads to you, he's not surprised in the slightest to find you at your pottery wheel. Your back is to him as you sit on your stool, headphones on as your body lightly moves along to the music playing, hands firm and shaping the clay in front of you into what he knows is the makings of a teapot.

Beside you, on the work table, Andrei sees two mugs newly finished with their handles attached, two finished matching saucer plates that need to be painted with glaze and fired, and two little spoons, already fired and glazed, probably newly taken out of the kiln. Beyond that, he also spots two jars - one for honey and one for sugar cubes, you had told him - and three brand new jars of glaze.

He takes a second to himself to just silently admire you, his beautiful wife of nearly two years, and lets his heart beat wild and content in his chest.

Andrei had converted one of his guest rooms into your own little art studio not long after you moved in with him, and by converted, he means he took out all the furniture, stripped the carpet, and let you decorate and furnish it how you saw fit.

He tried his best to learn as much as he could about what kinds of art you liked creating, the tools you used, but in truth, a lot of it was lost on him, and you had more mediums of art you were interested in than you cared to admit. Andrei had ended up giving you his card instead, telling you to buy whatever it was you needed or wanted, so that the space became exactly what you had always dreamed of.

You had been meticulous about it, too, and Andrei adored every second of watching you design the space back then. The flooring was first - you insisted on water and stain proof vinyl floors - followed by shelves, storage drawers, a small desk, your massive work table, and other organizing things. Then, once you had a place and space for everything, you bought canvases, a pottery wheel, clay, easels, paints, a sketchbook, pencils, pens, markers, and more.

You’d bought a kiln, too, which had its own place in a little shed he bought and had built for you outside. Since you'd gotten back into pottery and started making pieces, you'd been able to sell some to a few of the wives, girlfriends, and partners of players on the team, as well as some of Andrei's co-workers in the Canes' front office. You had even put a few up of your paintings and drawings you'd done on your larger canvases in their charity auctions over the last couple of years, which had given you a significant amount of your own money.

Andrei encouraged you to go legit and open up a shop, which was an idea you'd been slowly getting used to. You'd set up a website so far, and had sold your first collection a couple of months ago - planters and vases and hanging planters and such - which had done extremely well, but you insisted you wanted to still be able to find fun in doing it again instead of allowing it to feel like an obligation.

To help with that as of late, had been your project of a tea set for his mom's birthday, which was still months away. You'd been using the kiln a lot more because of it, for test pieces as well as the actual pieces themselves, so more often than not lately, your art studio is where he found you.

"If you call for me and I don't respond to you in ten seconds," you'd told him when you first started on the set, "I'm either in here, or at the kiln out back."

Quietly, he observes as you shape the lump of clay in the center of your wheel into a sphere, then, unhappy with the roundness, you carefully squeeze at it until it's back into another lump, before shaping it out once more. The rise of your shoulders before they tense as you start to create a hole in the middle of the clay, and the fall of them again when you start to pinch at the walls until it forms into the exact shape you want.

Only when you stop the wheel and dip your hands into the bowl of water beside you to get rid of the excess clay does Andrei approach, carefully placing his hands on your shoulders to give you a gentle squeeze.

You tilt your head back, bumping it into his abdomen gently as you gaze up at him with his favorite dazzling smile. He carefully removes your headphones, putting it on the work table and smoothing your hair down.

"Hi baby," he murmurs, bending down to press a kiss to your forehead, the tip of your nose, and then to your lips.

You hum softly before sitting up, turning yourself around on the stool to face him. "Hi handsome," you return, grabbing a towel from the work table and wiping your hands before settling them on his waist, fingers playing with the belt loops of his jeans. "Did you call for me a lot?"

"Just once," he says, unable to resist bending down to kiss you again.

He loves looking at you like this, soft in the mid morning light, a blissful smile on your face with dots of clay and glaze over your cheeks and on the little apron you have covering your clothes. He loves how he can smell the vanilla of your body wash among the earthen scents in the art studio, and how it makes him feel like he's completely at peace.

Andrei loves you. His almaznyy. His beautiful diamond. His wife.

"What's going on?" You ask him, those beautiful eyes crinkling at the edges in another one of his favorite smiles when his hands descend into your hair, carding the strands between his fingers.

"I bought the tickets for us to go and visit Evgeny and Sara." He says.

"Oh good," you say with a nod before leaning into his touch. "When do we leave?"

"Next week," he says, tugging playfully on a strand of your hair and chuckling softly when you pout at him for it. "Is that okay?"

You wrap your arms around his waist, rubbing your face into his clothed abdomen, your verbal response muffled in the fabric. Andrei laughs, scratching gently at your scalp. "What was that, almaznyy?"

"Da," you say, leaning back to look at him again but keeping your arms secured around his waist. "That's fine with me."

He smirks when he spots a familiar glint in your eyes, watching the way your pupils dilate then blow out a little wide when he cups your face in his hands, thumbs caressing at your jaw. "My busy little almaznyy, you've been working hard lately, haven't you?"

You nod, humming in agreement. He nods too, letting one of his hands trail down and to the back of your neck, deftly undoing the knots at the top of your apron. "So diligent," he praises, "What did I do to deserve you?"

Your eyes track him as he removes his hands from your body, lowering himself to his knees so he can wrap his arms around your waist to get at the ties behind you. He buries his face into your neck as he does so, adoring the way your head immediately tilts to allow him the room. He ghosts his lips across the skin as he undoes the ties around your waist, ignoring your little whines of protest when he pulls the apron off of you and tosses it to the side.

He sits back on his haunches, looking up at you with a Cheshire grin of his own. "You got clay on your clothes too, almaznyy." He playfully chastises, gesturing towards the little flecks of clay on the black shirt you're wearing - which is most definitely his - and to the miniscule spots on your sweatpants. "Think we should probably get you cleaned up in that case, shouldn't we?"

A small smirk crosses your lips as you nod, and Andrei smiles, surging up to wrap you in his arms. You go easily, both your bodies on muscle memory as you wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, and he lifts you into his hold easily, standing with you and carrying you off down the hall to your bedroom.

~

The warm spray of the shower cascades down his bare back as Andrei fucks you slow and deep against the tiles, his arms settled into the space behind your knees as he holds you up and open for him.

Your cries echo around the bathroom, your arms wrapped around his neck and fingers tangled in his hair, grasping at the strands desperately, his name a repeated plea on your lips.

"More," you beg sweetly, and he smiles, eyes locked on your face. He lowers you a little bit, and on the next push in, your eyes flutter shut as your mouth falls open in a beautiful cry, pussy squeezing around his cock in a way that makes him so fucking dizzy.

"Come on baby," he coaxes, pressing you impossibly closer against the tiles and against himself, burying his face in your neck to suck a bruise into the skin. With every press of his hips forward, your clit grinds against his abs, and he can feel the way your body begins to tense up and shake in his hold, your nails disappearing from his scalp to dig into his shoulders instead.

His name leaves your lips in another desperate plea, and he chuckles, nipping playfully at the skin of your neck, your jaw, before capturing your lips in a filthy kiss. He licks into your mouth, massaging his tongue with yours before he pulls away just slightly, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth as he goes.

"Is my pretty wife going to come on her husband's cock?" He taunts, and he sees the way the words go straight through you, your eyes glazing over, body going almost lax in his grip.

(He'd gotten much filthier and practically insane with his dirty talk over time. It started not long after you'd left Eden and began officially dating nearly seven months after meeting, and had only gotten more intense during the three month time span that you'd been engaged. It didn't help the fact that he noticed you particularly loved when he called you his wife, regardless of the situation.)

"Andrei," you plead. "Please."

"Please what, pretty baby?" He murmurs, dragging his lips against yours lazily, "What is it my pretty wife wants, hm?"

Your pussy squeezes down again and he groans, stealing another filthy kiss from you. "'M so close," you say between kisses, dragging your nails across his shoulders again.

He keeps your legs hooked over his bent arms, reaching his hands down to squeeze at your waist, thumb rubbing gently over where he knows a little diamond tattoo sits at your side, fucking you onto his cock in deep, sharp thrusts that steal your breath from you, and your eyes squeeze shut as your body shakes even more in his hold.

Andrei latches his lips to that sensitive spot on your neck, pressing his body tight against yours. That, and the added friction as your clit rubs against his abs, your sensitive nipples brushing against his chiseled chest, has you coming around him with a loud cry. Your pussy clamps down, pulsing around him and Andrei groans, holding you tight as he fucks past the grip, chasing after his own orgasm.

He groans low and deep, electricity shooting up his spine as he comes, filling you from where he's buried deep. It sends your body into a second orgasm almost immediately, and Andrei curses, muttering a string of Russian in your ear at the unexpected sensation.

You both take a blissful, fucked out moment to calm down, heartbeats slowing and breathing returning to normal.

"Okay?" He murmurs after a few minutes, and you nod, sighing happily in his hold. He taps your hips, and you nod again. An unhappy sounding noise leaves you when he gently pulls out, and his heart aches a little bit, thinking you’re probably sore. He’s immediately pressing apologetic kisses to your forehead while lowering you to the ground. His hands stay on your body, keeping you steady until you manage to stand on your own.

When his eyes finally get back to your face, there's an expression there he hasn't seen before, one he can't quite place. There's a tinge of disappointment there, and longing, and it brings a frown to his face too.

He cups your face in his hands, tilting your head up to look at him. When your eyes lock, the expression fades, and the smile that takes over your face is so brightly it almost knocks him off of his feet.

"What's wrong, almaznyy?" He says, thumb brushing against your cheeks.

You lean into his touch, hands circling around his wrists. "Nothing, Drei." You promise, "I'm perfectly happy."

There's nothing in your voice or in your face now that tells him that you're lying, or that you're hiding anything from him, so he has no reason to not believe you.

Still, he stores the expression he saw away for later, keeping it in mind just in case.

He takes his time washing you both off after that, enjoying the content noises you make as he shampoos your hair and wraps you up in a fluffy towel when you're all done, pressing gentle kisses all over your face before seizing your mouth in a kiss he hopes tells you "I'm so in love with you I think my heart might burst without you."

~

Andrei quickly darts out of the way as a little boy zooms past him, his father chasing after him and tossing a “sorry!” over his shoulder as he goes.

He laughs a little, calling out a “it’s okay!” in their way as he double checks that he still has a hold on your drinks and food before he keeps walking. 

He heads back into the airport lounge and straight for you, handing you a cup of hot chocolate and a warmed up croissant from one of the bistros in the terminal. You accept it with a happy smile and a murmured ‘thank you’ before he snuggles up next to you on the little couch you’ve both managed to commandeer for yourselves.

He glances over at your airport outfit once more, mostly because he can’t help but appreciate how cozy you look.

Admittedly, he’s still got a small habit of dressing up when he flies, so he’s his standard in black pants and a white shirt, and you insisted on matching with him when you got dressed this morning. You’re in black lounge pants, a white shirt, and you have a gray sweater tied and resting around your shoulders.

Andrei figured out that when you fly you prefer to have your own blanket with you, which you have curled around your shoulders right now as you take a sip of your hot chocolate.

You look more ready for a cozy winter than you do for a week-long vacation during the summer in San Jose.

“Is it good baby?” He asks, taking a sip of his own coffee. You nod, holding the cup to your cheek. Another thing he learned - you get cold easily, but especially in airports.

“Very,” you nod, leaning your head to rest on his shoulder. “Spasibo, malysh.”

“You’re welcome, almaznyy.” 

He’s content to relax like that with you, and when he takes his phone out once you’ve finished your drinks, you help him with the crossword puzzle game he became addicted to once he saw you playing it yourself.

The two of you are engrossed in trying to figure out a six letter word for the clue “tough” when there’s a blur of pale yellow accompanied by a flurry of giggles that crashes into your legs, and it makes both of you jump up a little in surprise.

It’s a baby boy, Andrei realizes, one who’s most likely just learned what running is given the delighted and mischievous expression on his face, and when he turns to check if you’re okay, he’s surprised to find you out of your seat, blanket abandoned, and kneeling on the floor in front of the child to see if they’re okay.

The baby looks like he’s seconds from crying, but then you’re smiling, speaking at him quietly and gently, and to Andrei’s amazement, the baby stops, looks at you, and then bursts into a fit of giggles.

You laugh, happy that you could make him feel better, and continue to speak to him while he babbles away at you. He’s seen you do it with Luka, coaxing him away from a tantrum he’d been seconds away from, and calming Mila down when she scraped her knee while learning to ride her bike that first time, and it still amazes him how good you are with kids. Something warm and fuzzy starts to grow in his heart, and it stops short when a woman who Andrei can only assume is the baby’s mother approaches.

“I’m so sorry!” She says, jogging toward where you and the baby are on the ground. “Leo’s just discovered how fast he can move but we’re still working on finding his brakes.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure her through a laugh. “My nephew Luka was the same.”

My nephew - Andrei still loved that you thought that way.

“He probably had places to be and we were just in the way, weren’t we Leo?” You tease, pulling a funny face at Leo. His mom laughs when Leo bursts into giggles, picking Leo up into her arms.

“He’s fast,” Andrei notes when you stand with her, “How old is he?”

“He just turned one,” his mom gushes. 

You make a little cooing sound. “Is he your first?”

Leo’s mother shakes her head with a laugh. “You’d think so, but I have a three year old too. His name’s Sky, he’s with my husband over there, we finally just got him to settle down but then this little guy decided it was time to sprint.”

You and Andrei look over to where Leo’s mom gestured, finding the three year old who almost ran him over earlier eating snacks while his dad watches over him, all the while looking over at his wife and smiling when he sees her.

Andrei knows that smile, he probably sends that same smile your way about a hundred times a day. 

Ulybka vlyublennogo muzhchiny. His mom had said. The smile of a man in love.

“You should think about getting them into sports soon.” Andrei says when he turns back toward the mom, “Sky almost tackled me in the terminal earlier-”

“-And Leo barely flinched when he ran into me!” You tease, making another funny face at the baby. He giggles, suddenly growing shy as he hides in his mom’s shoulders.

She laughs, “Everyone’s been saying that to me. I might just have to consider it.”

Andrei reaches into his pocket, grabbing his business card from his wallet and hands it to the mother with a small smile. “If you ever think they’re interested in hockey, give me a call or send me an email. I’d be happy to get them set up.”

The mother takes Andrei’s card with a curious look, and when she reads his name, her eyes light up in recognition, and she smiles, laughing a little to herself.

“I knew you looked familiar! My husband and I are big fans. We were there for your last cup winning game. It’s so nice to meet you!”

Andrei catches the glance you shoot at him from the corner of his eye, can see the tense line of your shoulders in his peripheral, but he gives the mother an easy smile, and your body relaxes.

Now that he has you, that time in his life isn’t so painful anymore.

“Thank you,” he says genuinely. “I’m glad that you were there, it felt good to have home crowd support.”

“I appreciate your offer, I’ll definitely reach out.” She says, then looks at both of you. “It was nice meeting you both, you’re such a lovely couple!”

You both say your goodbyes, you waving at baby Leo, who waves back shyly, then looks at Andrei. Andrei waves too, and to his surprise, baby Leo waves back to him too, before burying his face in his mother’s shoulder.

You finally return to your seat on the couch next to Andrei, wrapping both of your arms around his, resting your chin on his shoulder as you smile brightly up at him.

“That was hot of you.” You say, which has Andrei laughing in surprise.

“What was, almaznyy?”

“You and your business cards.” You say, scrunching your nose a little. “I liked it, it was very authoritative.”

Andrei shakes his head, booping your nose with his finger. “Calm yourself down, almaznyy. I’m still not interested in being part of the mile high club.”

You roll your eyes with a shrug, but relax fully against his side. “Offer still stands.”

~

You're laying on the floor of Sara and Evgeny's living room, laughing as you bounce eight month old baby Alexei up and down against your belly, watching as his little legs kick back and forth and he babbles his joy. From beside you, three year old Luka lays on his belly as he plays with the train set Andrei had bought him last Christmas, and five year old Mila rests on your other side, coloring diligently in the sketchbook you'd bought her for her birthday.

She'd seen you drawing in one of your journals and had become both enraptured and amazed as she observed you, and then had been overjoyed when you handed her the book and pencil so she could create her own drawings as she pleased.

Her parents had been worried that she might accidentally press the pencil too tight and ruin one of your other drawings, or accidentally draw over something you had done, but either way, you would have cared less. "It's good for her to do it this way," you had told them, "so she knows what she makes is important, too."

On the couch above you, Sara's feeding a bottle to Alexei's twin brother Aleksander, watching you and her children. She smiles, nudging you gently in the side with her socked feet.

"You're a natural at this," she praises. "The kids always seem to behave better when you're here."

You scoff a little, making nonsensical noises at Alexei as he babbles back at you. "Hardly," you say. "I think it's because Andrei wears them out first."

When you and Andrei come around, he tends to round up his niece and nephews, tiring the older ones out by running around while you and Sara or Evgeny or Andrei's parents help with the twins.

Sara shakes her head. "No, he might wear them out, but they still have plenty of room to be crazy. You settle them down. This is the quietest they've been all day."

You look at your nieces and nephews at where they each are, peaceful and happy and content, and you shrug, smiling a little to yourself. "I guess so."

Sara laughs, nudging you again. "So, when are you gonna have some little ones of your own? We're outnumbered by boys here and it's your turn to pop a baby out for once."

You falter slightly, almost dropping baby Alexei straight on your face before you catch him effortlessly, trying to ignore the wave of dizziness when you launch yourself upright into a sitting position. Luka and Mila barely spare either of you a glance, too focused on what they're doing. You gaze at Sara, holding Alexei tight with one hand while shushing her with the other.

"Not so loud!" You half whisper, half yell.

Andrei and Evgeny were just in the kitchen not too far away, and while they were probably distracted by shop talk, you couldn't risk him hearing like this.

Sara narrows her eyes at you, frowning, whisper-yelling right back. "You told me on the phone last week that you were going to talk to him about it! And the week before that, and two weeks before that!"

You groan, shaking your head and beginning to bounce Alexei again when he starts to fuss. Sara shakes her head right back at you, gesturing for you to follow her as she heads toward the twins' nursery, instructing Mila and Luka to "wait right here while mommy talks to your aunt."

As you head to the nursery, you pass Andrei and Evgeny who are, as expected, engrossed in their conversation, but it doesn't stop Andrei from tossing a wink at you as you pass by.

You pointedly ignore the way it makes butterflies swarm and swoop in your stomach, smiling softly in return before ducking out of sight and into the nursery. Sara shuts the door behind you, giving you a pointed look as she does so.

You'd had best friends before, obviously, but never an older sister figure, and none quite like Sara. When Andrei had introduced you two, she'd been nothing but welcoming, friendly, and someone you'd come to rely on quite a lot since then.

When she announced she was pregnant with twins last year, you'd been overjoyed for her, and often traveled back and forth between San Jose and Raleigh to help her with the babies, especially since it had been Evgeny's first year working with the coaching staff of the Sharks, having previously been in the front office.

Maybe it was the excitement you got in helping her decorate the nursery, even though most of it was taken care of since they had things from Luka and Mila, or maybe it was just all the preparation you helped her with, but it had given you severe baby fever.

Like...severe.

Severe enough that you were practically ready to be pregnant that very same day until reality kicked in and knocked some serious sense into you.

You'd asked her how she and Evgeny had approached the topic of having kids, if she had advice on how you should broach the subject with Andrei, and she had only one thing to say.

"They're pretty direct people," she had said. "It's best to rip the bandaid off with something like that."

A couple of months ago, she texted you a picture of the twins in the matching pajama set you'd bought, and something in it made you want to finally talk to Andrei about it. So you told Sara that you would.

But...

The second you'd gone to Andrei in his office about it, you suddenly got cold feet. Realistically, you two hadn't actually talked about having kids before. Things with the two of you had been unconventional and fast from the start, so granted, you both had done things a little messily and quite backwards.

Still, the worst he could say to you was "no" or "not right now baby," but despite your past mess you two had always been on the same page, so the idea of hearing a "not right now" was okay, but hearing "no"?

Yeah, not something you had exactly prepared yourself for.

So instead of allowing there to be room for a "no" or "not right now," you just...didn't say a word.

Which Sara was definitely going to yell at you for.

Or at least, whisper yell, what with the twins going down for their nap and all.

Sara lays a droopy Aleksander into his crib, and he falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow. She takes Alexei from you next, sitting in the rocking chair set up in the corner of the room to start to feed him his bottle while you sit on the floor, gazing at baby Aleksander through the bars of his crib.

"What in the world are you waiting for?" Sara asks you, voice soft but firm in the nursery. 

You groan a little to yourself. "I just haven't gotten around to it, okay?"

"Yes, but why?" She presses. "You know he won't say no to you."

"I actually don't know that. He might not be able to say no when I ask for help, or ask for something, but children are not things to ask for. It's an entire human being you're bringing into the world, you know!"

Sara gives you a deadpan expression. "Of course I know, I've brought four of them into existence."

"Then you know that it's a lot to ask. Even if I want a child, even if I want to be a mom and raise my kids and bring them up, that doesn't guarantee that Andrei wants the same."

"He'll want them with you." Sara insists. "He'll want them because you'll be their mother and he's in love with you and those kids will be half of you and he'll be so proud to say that they're your children."

The idea fills you with hope, but you tamp it down. You have to be realistic about this. You know your husband, and you know that while Sara's right and he will do anything for you, he also probably won't handle this being sprung on him as a surprise, or appreciate being confronted with it out of the blue.

"Just get rid of your birth control and tell him you want a kid." Sara insists, and your eyes bug out of your head.

"Are you insane?" You whisper yell. "That would definitely give him a heart attack."

"Don't be so dramatic," she says, rolling her eyes. "He's too young to have those."

"I'll talk to him," you promise, more to yourself than to Sara. "But I'm not using any of your suggestions."

Sara shrugs. "Fine by me, but there'd better be a new baby next Christmas, and it won't be mine."

~

In the kitchen, Andrei watches with fond eyes as you disappear into the nursery with Sara and the twins. He's listening to what Evgeny's talking about, he really is, but his eyes are locked on the silent screen of the baby monitor, showing you handing Alexei off to Sara after Sara's put Aleksander down.

Watching you with his niece and nephews all day had filled his heart with something warm and fuzzy, something he couldn't quite place.

The way that you cared for his family since he introduced you to them was something that made Andrei incredibly happy, and he could tell that the way that they cared for you in turn made you just as happy.

He often caught you speaking with his mother on the phone, trying your best to only stick to Russian as best as possible to make her comfortable. His father didn't reach out often, but when he did, you did your best to converse with him too. Sometimes, when you thought Andrei wasn't looking, he'd see you reading through a Russian textbook in your art studio, brushing up on the language.

You talked to Sara almost every week, the two of you growing to be as close as sisters, and that made Andrei happy considering the only real sibling relationship you had was still pretty strained. Even after Andrei married you, your brother Joshua still wasn't his favorite person, which was unfortunate, considering his husband Sam was an angel and one of your favorite people.

Evgeny had also grown closer to you a little, considering how much you helped him and Sara prepare for the arrival of the twins. There were times he'd reach out to you if he couldn't reach Andrei for any reason, and Evgeny often teased Andrei about how more often than not, it seemed like a freak accident that he'd managed to find someone like you to be his wife.

"Believe me," Andrei had told his brother. "I know."

He listens intently to his brother as he discusses what's going on with the Sharks, clearly seeking Andrei's advice, but all the while, Andrei keeps his eyes on you, watches you through the baby monitor as you sit with Sara and the twins.

Everything about your body language screams comfort, like there's nowhere in the world you'd rather be, and it brings a smile to his face unconsciously.

Evgeny pauses in his ranting, glancing to the baby monitor and rolling his eyes, shoving at Andrei. "Obrashchat' vnimaniye," he scolds. Pay attention.

"I am!" Andrei insists, turning his full attention back to his brother. "You were saying?"

Evgeny opens his mouth, then closes it, a curious expression crossing his features. "Have you thought about it?"

"About what?" Andrei asks, moving his brother so he can go into the fridge and steal one of those obnoxious glass bottles of water Evgeny insists on buying.

"About what comes after marriage," Evgeny says. "About having kids."

Andrei almost drops the water bottle on the kitchen floor, can hear it shatter in his ears, but he's pretty sure that's his brain doing that. "About what?" He asks, voice practically an echo in his head.

Evgeny shakes his head. "Ty takoy idiot."

Andrei turns to face him, frowning. "I am not an idiot."

"You are, actually. Have you two not talked about having kids?"

Andrei opens his mouth, then shuts it.

You two actually hadn't. Not really. Not at all, now that he thought about it.

Evgeny shakes his head. "Listen, I know you're enjoying your never ending honeymoon phase, but it wouldn't hurt to ask."

Andrei takes a swig from his water, glancing at you on the monitor.

You've got Alexei in your arms now, feeding him the rest of his bottle while Sara rests on the rocking chair, eyes on Aleksander.

His heart does a little flip, imagining you holding a little baby that's got your nose and his eyes, and it brings back the warm and fuzzy feeling he'd felt earlier.

Maybe...maybe it was worth a discussion.

~

Since Evgeny's house had gotten crowded with all the kids, Andrei had booked a suite for the two of you at the Marriott.

It had a lovely view of the city, especially at night, and Andrei enjoyed it even more with your naked body pressed against one of the many floor to ceiling windows, watching the way your face twisted with pleasure in the reflection of the glass.

The lights were off in the hotel room, so there wasn't a single chance of anyone seeing what the two of you were up to, but the thrill was there all the same. He wanted to show you off, show off his beautiful little wife, the only diamond he ever needed.

Your palm prints littered the window as you pushed back against him, and Andrei groaned, tightening the grip on your hips, fingers pressing against where he knew that little diamond tattoo rested beneath the waistband of your thong.

He could barely wait, barely think by the time you both got back to the hotel. The second your jeans were off, he pulled your thong to the side and slid in to the hilt, burying himself inside of you and making you come all over him in seconds.

It wasn't often that Andrei took you from behind. More often than not, he preferred looking at you, preferred watching the beautiful faces you made and watching the way your body reacted to his own. But in times like these, where there was something that could help him watch you, he couldn't exactly complain.

He releases his hold on one of your hips, letting his hands wander up your torso, bringing you upright against him as he bends his knees a little, adjusting for your height difference so he can cage you against him as he fucks into you.

Pleasant and happy noises leave you as he plays with one of your nipples, then the other, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses on your neck. His nails gently scratch at the valley between your breasts, making you shiver, before trailing his hand down your stomach.

He had every intention of putting his fingers to your clit, rubbing gently there the way you liked when he took you like this, but instead, his hands lingered on your stomach, on where he could feel the slight bulge of where his cock fucked in and out of you, and he found his hands resting there instead.

A shiver ran through your body, your pussy pushing back on his cock again as if on impulse, and a deep, pleased noise rumbled through Andrei's chest.

"Almaznyy?" He murmured against your neck, finding the sensitive spot below your ear and sucking against it gently.

You gasped in his hold, shaking a little, and he chuckled, pressing his hand against the little bulge of your stomach, the hand he still had on your waist tightening its grip, pressing his fingers a little more into the diamond tattoo.

"Can you feel me here, moya krasivaya zhena?" He asks you, cock throbbing when you squeeze against him in excitement. You loved it when he called you ‘my pretty wife.’ "Can you feel me fucking you?"

You nod, frantic, hands gripping onto his arms. "Please, malysh, wanna come."

"You wanna come already?" He taunts. "Gonna come for me in front of the whole city?"

A soft whine leaves your lips as he thrusts in particularly hard, emphasizing his question.

"Yes," you answer, nearly breathless.

“And what about me?” He teases, pressing his hand against your stomach a little more. "You want me to come inside, almaznyy? Want me to come right here?"

In the reflection of the window, he catches the way your eyes slam shut before you throw your head back against his shoulder, mouth open in a silent cry and body seizing as your orgasm claims you. Your pussy clenches impossibly tight, and it sends Andrei over the edge in seconds, pushing down on your waist to bury himself inside of you, cock throbbing almost painfully as he comes.

The two of you shake silently for a second, and Andrei holds you both upright as best as he can until he can feel your body as it calms down. He pulls out gently, not wasting a second before he scoops you up, walking you over to the bed to lay you on it gently before he climbs on beside you.

You go to him almost immediately, and his arms open on instinct, welcoming you in his embrace as you bury your nose in his chest.

He wants to say something, anything. He wants to ask you if what just happened was okay, if you're okay, if he didn't cross a line, if you maybe wanted to try that again sometime soon or maybe if you want to try it in a different position.

But then he hears your breathing start to even out, feels the way your body goes lax in his hold, and he resigns himself to discussing it another time.

~

The following day, you and Andrei head back over to Sara and Evgeny’s for lunch. You help Sara put the kids down for their naps after you all eat, and Andrei and Evgeny handle the dishes.

When you and Sara come out of the kids’ rooms, you’re met with a chorus of laughter from Andrei, Evgeny, and then their mother’s voice echoes through the living room.

Peeking around the corner, you can see Andrei and Evegny crowded around Evgeny’s laptop, definitely on FaceTime with their mother.

She signals to you to hang back, and you nod. You’re more than happy to give Andrei and his brother the alone time they need to speak with their mom, so you lean back against the wall, Sara against the one opposite you, and you smile at each other when you hear the brother excitedly converse with their mother in Russian.

Your fluency has gotten better, but it’s not one hundred percent - same with Sara’s - so the two of you can only really pick up on bits and pieces here and there, catching tidbits of their mother’s praises for her boys along with her normal chastising.

You two are looking fit!

Still, you both need to eat more. 

You’re working too hard.

Are you ready for the upcoming season?

Oh my brilliant boys!

How are my daughters?

How are the grandkids?

Evgeny, you’d better bring them by soon so I can babysit.

Andrei, how are you doing?

Are you and my favorite girl happy?

When are you two going to give me more grandchildren?!

That last part sends a shock through your body, and Sara nudges you with her foot at the same time Andrei begins to stutter and stammer in the living room.

Their mom starts to say something else when her voice gets quieter, and you realize Andrei’s turned the volume down. His voice gets a little quieter, and Evgeny’s loud laughter drowns out whatever Andrei says in return to their mother.

Sara gives you another pointed look, as if to say “So you still didn’t talk to him about it.”

You roll your eyes, and she nudges your foot again before dragging you down the hall and into her and Evgeny’s bedroom. 

“For the love of God,” she says. “I know you said you’re not taking my suggestions, but you are going to have to take this one, specifically with the promise that you’ll at least save it until you get back to Raleigh.”

You answer her with a deadpan stare, and she sighs, exasperated, before gesturing to you. 

“You have to seduce him.” She says plainly. “It’s how I did it with Evgeny, and it’s how you’re going to have to do it with Andrei instead of tiptoeing around.”

You’re slightly dumbfounded, so all you can manage is a weak “What?”

“Remember when I told you to rip the bandaid off?” She asks, and you nod. She waves a hand around, “Well, that’s what I meant by that. Seduce him. Rip the bandaid off.”

“Seduce him…” You say, and it sounds more like a question than a statement.

Sara grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you a bit. “You know he loves you, you know he thinks you’re hot. Use it.”

Sara doesn’t know how you and Andrei met, no one does except Lottie, Oli, Mason, Eli, and you and Andrei. She has no idea about your past.

Which means she has no idea that if there is anything you know how to do, it’s seduce Andrei.

~

You try your best to clear your mind, focusing on exfoliating your skin as you shower and the things you’re planning on doing once this shower is done.

It had been a week since you’d returned from visiting with Sara and Evgeny, and this morning, you’d gone to see your OBGYN doctor to discuss…well, a possible game plan.

You agreed that after you finished this round of birth control pills and had your period, you and Andrei would probably start trying.

And well, after you spoke to Andrei about all of this, of course. 

But Sara was right, seduction might have to come first. You were too out of sorts to wait any longer.

He had been gone this morning when you went to your appointment, having to be at the practice rink to watch the team’s morning skate, and when you had returned home after running some errands, he’d been in his office for a string of phone calls, which he said he’d be in and out of till about two this afternoon.

It was about noon, then. So you’d gone on a run, had a little pep talk with yourself to prepare for the impending conversation, and strategized.

The pep talk you had was simple - if during said conversation, Andrei voiced that he didn’t want kids, that was that. You would not be forcing him into anything he didn’t want or trying to convince him, and the two of you would likely talk things out from there.

If he did want kids, perfect, you could talk about that, but, you could also give him a bit of extra motivation.

Which brought you to the seduction strategy you’d developed so carefully on the way back from your run.

It was about one in the afternoon when you got back, so you threw together a quick lunch for you and Andrei to have - once he was done with his phone calls and you - and it was about one thirty when you hopped into the shower.

You’d gone for a wax right after your doctor’s appointment, as part of the errands you ran, along with a mani pedi, but a little extra gentle exfoliation on the legs never hurt anyone.

Once you finished in the shower, you toweled off and applied the vanilla lotion Andrei loved the most on you, before slipping on one of your favorite sundresses. It was also one Andrei liked on you, particularly because it was just the right side of see through. 

Hence, why it was a key part to your strategy.

It might be devious, and it’s definitely playing dirty, but you need a little ammunition on your side, if not for the sake of a small confidence boost to get you through the conversation.

You did this for a living, for a time. You did this specifically for Andrei before, it shouldn’t be too hard to do it for him again. Sure, the way that you seduced him now looked different, the way that you were together now had changed drastically, but Sara was right. At the very least, Andrei loved you, and he never failed to remind you how attractive you were to him.

So hopefully, this worked.

You checked the time on the clock on your nightstand - one fifty five. A quick glance in the mirror assured you this was the best option outfit wise, and your nerves reminded you that you’d both probably need a little bit of liquid courage for this next bit. Heading back out to the kitchen, you make yourself a quick margarita and pour Andrei a shot of his favorite whisky. 

If there was anything you knew about your husband, sometimes he just needed a little something to take the edge off before he could plow forward with whatever it was he needed to do. He was bound to be nervous once you brought up the idea of having a baby, especially if you were going to be playing just a little bit dirty about it. 

You grabbed both glasses and headed back down the hall to Andrei’s office. Just as you crossed the threshold, he was bidding whoever was on the other line goodbye, and you took a deep breath to steel yourself.

Andrei is your husband. You love each other. You reminded yourself. He is your husband. You can get through anything together.

Andrei smiles when you hand him his glass, his reading glasses perched on his nose making him look both hot, authoritative, and innocent all at once. “Now how did you know I needed this, moya zhena?”

You shrug, playing innocent. “A lucky guess.”

You both toast, clinking your glasses before each taking a sip of your respective drinks. You try to hide your smile behind your glass as you do, but you should’ve known better.

Andrei’s almost always looking at you, so nothing ever could get past your loving and doting husband.

“What’s that smile doing there?” He teases, and it’s then that he seems to finally take in what you’re wearing.

And that you’re wearing nothing underneath it.

You try another innocent smile, but Andrei raises a brow in suspicion, quirking his finger and summoning you to his side of the desk.

Placing your glass down on the mahogany, you round the desk to his side, obeying when he taps the desk and jumping up, taking a seat but keeping your legs crossed.

You don’t want him distracted.

“Are you about to ask me for something expensive, almaznyy? Because if you are, you’re off to a good start.”

You never actually needed to do anything if it was expensive, including asking him for anything, since you did have your own income, and you both knew that. But still, every now and again you liked to pretend like you did, liked the way it made Andrei nervous and pliant, like he didn’t meet you the way he actually did, like he wasn’t familiar with the concept. 

But that wasn’t what you were going for here.

“Well,” you start, “it’s sort of expensive. An…investment, if you will.”

He frowns slightly. “Don’t tell me Jarvy’s wife actually talked you into wanting to buy that monstrosity of a beach house.”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of you, having almost completely forgotten Tessa’s attempt to expand her real estate portfolio by tempting you with an even bigger sunroom than the one you and Andrei had now.

You shake your head. “No no, I don’t want that house.”

“But you do want a house?” Andrei inquires.

You shake your head, nerves suddenly racing through your veins. It makes your hands shake, so you reach out for him, cupping his jaw with your hand, leaving the other resting in your lap. You thumb over the stubble along his jaw, humming to yourself, trying to gather the right words.

It makes Andrei nervous. “Listen, almaznyy, whatever it is, we-”

“I want this house, Bubby,” you interrupt, wanting to be out with it but also not sure if you were remotely prepared for the rest of his sentence. At the pet name, Andrei’s eyes get brighter, his entire demeanor softening. “I want this house, with you and I in it, and maybe…maybe a little one running around in it, too.”

There. You said it…kind of.

But it was out there now. 

And Andrei…

There’s surprise in his face, definitely, and you’d been expecting that. But there’s also no…opposition. Nothing that says he doesn’t want to have this conversation, nothing that screams disagreement, nothing that says he doesn’t like the idea.

There are nerves there, like yours, but amongst the nerves and surprise is…hope? Something wistful. 

You lean into it, trailing your hand from his face to his arm, then down to the desk where his hand rests beside your legs. You take it, intertwining your fingers, playing with his hand a little.

“Bubby,” you continue. And that time you’re definitely playing dirty, saying one of his favorite pet names like that, like you want something - which you do, no question - and it makes Andrei’s whole body relax. “I want a baby,” you say, this time, plainly, so there’s no question and no doubt. “I want to have a baby with you.” You glance up at him, finding his intense gaze already on you. “What do you think?”

He’s quiet for a moment, and if you didn’t already know your husband, his lack of a response might concern you. But the look on his face tells you that he’s thinking, and so you wait, giving him enough space and time to collect his thoughts.

Finally, he squeezes your hand, a little sigh of relief mixed with a laugh leaving his chest, eyes crinkling at the corners as a brilliant smile takes over his features. He says nothing, just maneuvers you to part your legs so he can haul you off the desk and into his lap. You go to him easily, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into his neck, breathing him in. One of his arms bands itself across your waist, the other across your back so he can cradle the back of your head in his hands.

“I didn’t know how to ask you.” He says softly into your ear. “I’ve been thinking about it, too. How to ask…how to tell you…”

“Ya tozhe,” you tell him. Me too. “I didn’t know if it was something you wanted.”

“We never talked about it,” he agrees. “And we should have, and I’m sorry we didn’t.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, malysh. We’re talking about it now, aren’t we?” You say, pressing a small kiss to his jaw.

He tightens his grip on you. “Because you were brave enough to do it. You’ve always been the brave one of the two of us, almaznyy.”

“You were the one who brought us together, Andrei.” You remind him, “I couldn’t have done that. Only you could have, and you did.”

“I would do it again.” He swears, leaning back a little to press a kiss to your forehead. 

You pull back a little, puckering your lips, and he laughs, leaning down to kiss you softly, gently, and like he has all the time in the world. You love when he kisses you like this, like he’s afraid you’ll break or disappear into thin air. It makes you feel precious, like the very diamond he continues to call you.

“Bubby,” you murmur between kisses, “how many babies do you want?”

There’s a choked noise that bubbles in his throat, so you pull back, looking at him in concern. He reaches for his scotch, but you bat his hand away, handing him the bottle of water he always keeps on his desk instead.

He takes a couple of grateful swigs, and much to his disappointment, you climb off of him and climb back to your perch on his desk, giving him some room to breathe. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. “Didn’t mean to take you by surprise there.”

Andrei shakes his head, putting the closed water bottle down and reaches for his glass, downing the rest of its contents. When it's empty, you take it back from him, putting it on a far enough corner of his desk before reaching for your glass, taking down the rest of your margarita, then set the empty glass next to Andrei’s. Once those are out of the way, you lean back on your hands, your attention solely on Andrei once more.

He’s got a little glint in his eye as he considers you, letting one of his hands come up to rest on your legs, caressing your skin. “You know me, almaznyy. I’m not picky.” He starts. “I’ll be satisfied with as many babies as you’re willing to give me.”

You smile, pleased with his answer. In reward, you nudge the hand he has on your leg a little, and Andrei beams, gently grabbing your calf so he can part your legs, this time, to take in the sight of your bare pussy.

Carefully, you pull up the hem of your dress and push yourself to the edge of his desk, and Andrei takes your ankles, gently placing one on the armrest of his chair, putting the other over his shoulder. He scoots his chair in closer, your leg sliding down his back a little and allowing his hands to rest on your hips.

“We should…” he starts, swallowing. “We should probably talk about this a little more.”

You smirk. “We are talking, though.”

“In depth,” he clarifies. “Get into specifics, and things.”

But even as he says it, you can see in his face you probably wouldn’t get further than the next five minutes. “We can still talk about it after, too, okay? We’ll sit and have a real conversation about it.”

He blinks, nodding, then glances down at where you know he wants to bury his face.

“If you wanted a baby, almaznyy,” he says, warm breath fanning over your lower abdomen, “you didn’t have to play dirty.”

“Dirty?” You ask, innocent as ever. “What do you mean?”

Andrei narrows his eyes at you. “The first time you walked into this office on a mission, you were dressed just like this.”

“You mean when I used to be your assistant?” You tease, and he pinches your thigh playfully.

“Moya zhena,” he warns. He may be playful, but it seems you’ve pushed a few too many buttons in that area today.

Shame, you think. Maybe I can try again after dinner. 

You roll your eyes playfully, pouting a little. “I was nervous and needed some confidence, alright?”

“You look plenty confident to me,” he reassures you with a slight nod, then he’s bunching up the fabric of your dress and pressing against your stomach, his nice way of saying ‘lay back moya zhena, let me take care of you.’

The first swipe of his tongue in your folds takes you by surprise, a pleasant squeal leaving your lips and echoing around his office. His second taste of you is slower, his tongue laying flat against you and dragging from your entrance to your clit, his lips circling around the bud and sucking in a way that elicits a pleasant moan from you.

Andrei’s hands crawl up your body to the neckline of your dress, and you help him a little, slipping the straps off so he can pull the neckline down, cupping your tits in his hands and squeezing.

He’d been particularly fond of the first time you’d had sex in this house together. Had cherished the memory of you in that light pink sundress and on this desk in a similar fashion. It was probably why you’d chosen to approach him this way, he thinks absentmindedly, lips and mouth settling into the familiar pace you love when he’s got his face between your thighs.

Andrei can feel his pants get a little tighter the wetter you get, his chin coated in your slick and nose nudging against your clit as his lips and tongue work you open. He’s so perfectly at peace here, totally content to just lick at you and taste you for hours at a time that he nearly forgets why you’re sprawled out on his desk like this.

You tugging at his hair serves as a gentle reminder that kicks him into gear, and he smiles against your skin, pressing kisses to the junction of your thighs and nipping at you a little.

“Andrei,” you say, breathless. “Potoropites', pozhaluysta.” Hurry up, please.

He shakes his head, gently letting your legs fall to the side as he sits up in his chair, draping his body over yours. “Not this time, almaznyy,” he says, wrapping your arms around his neck before he wraps his own arms around your back, cupping your ass in his hands.

Your brain kicks into gear just in time for you to wrap your legs around his waist, and then he’s lifting you up, pressing filthy open mouth kisses to your neck as he navigates the hallway carefully, taking the measured and familiar steps to your bedroom.

He lays you gently on the mattress, placing you delicately among the pillows before he’s shedding his shirt and pants, kicking his boxer briefs off to the side and then settling back between your legs.

This time, your thighs squeeze at his head when he sucks your pussy into his mouth particularly hard, tongue dipping inside of you, and your fingers fly into his hair, scratching at his scalp in warning.

“Behave, moy muzh.” you hiss through gritted teeth, even if the way you writhe against his face tells him you like it. 

“You started it,” he reminds you, tugging on the dress resting around your middle. You huff, grabbing the bottom and peeling it off, tossing it in the direction of Andrei’s pile of clothes. 

Your eyes sparkle with mischief when you watch the way he takes in the sight of your naked body. No matter how many times the two of you do this, Andrei always looks at you the same way.

Like he’s in love, like it’s the first time, like for all he wants to take you apart, the way he’ll put you back together will be well worth it, and if it isn’t, he’ll work for it until it is.

“Pridi ko mne, lyubov' moya,” you beckon him. Come to me, my love.

His bottom lip drags against your clit as he rises from his position, tongue darting out to lick at your arousal still coating his lips, and the sight alone licks at the flame of arousal sparking low in your belly.

When he crawls up your body to kiss you, he props himself up on his arms, not wanting to rest his full weight on you, his delicate little almaznyy. Normally, you love it, but right now, you need something a little different. 

Your arms wrap around his neck as you seize his mouth in a bruising, desperate kiss, pulling him down to you and taking him by surprise as you manage to flip him onto his back on the way down. You take full advantage of his surprise by making your way down his body to settle between his legs, wrapping your fist around his cock and taking him into your mouth.

Andrei groans, sitting up on his elbows to watch you.

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to make a baby if you keep doing that,” he warns, cock throbbing against your tongue as if to emphasize his point. 

You bat your eyelashes at him, sucking at the head of his cock and using your hands to stroke at him at the same time. He hisses, one of his hands flying to rest in your hair, the other resting behind his head and emphasizing the chiseled muscles of his arms, chest, and abdomen.

Sometimes, you couldn’t believe this man was your husband.

“Almaznyy,” he warns when you take him down your throat, swallowing around him. You’re slow to come off his cock, letting him leave your lips with a dramatic ‘pop.’

“I’m still on birth control,” you tell him. “So we can’t make a baby tonight anyway, probably not for another month, at least.”

His brows furrow, both from your statement and the way you twist your wrist, stroking his cock the way you know he likes. “Then what - ah yebat’ - what are we doing?” He asks, trying to focus on the conversation as you take him back in your throat. You hum a little, and he tugs on the strands of your hair again in warning.

You pull off of him, gently stroking your hand up and down, squeezing as you go. “Practicing, of course.”

He lets his arms fall out beside him, collapsing against the pillows and dragging his hands over his eyes. “Almaznyy,” he huffs, hips stuttering when you squeeze him at the base.

“Hmm?” You hum, ready to take him in your mouth again, but Andrei moves quickly, hauling you up his body and cradling you close as he flips you over again. He positions you among the pillows, placing one under your waist so you’re practically propped up for him. He positions himself so his arms rest in the crook of your knees, your ankles near his head as he folds his body over yours.

He takes his cock in his hand, running the head through your folds. “Practice?” 

You nod, “Practice, for now.” You reach out, pushing his hand out of the way so you can line his cock up with your entrance. “Which is why the desk was perfectly good, and-”

The rest of your words are stolen from you when Andrei bats your hand away gently and slides inside of you, slow but precise, bottoming out and nestling his body close to yours. Your eyes flutter shut when you squeeze around him, and his hands come up, cradling the sides of your face as he murmurs encouraging words to you, staying still until you’ve adjusted to his size.

“Almaznyy,” he calls, and your eyes blink open, glazed over and hazy and you’ve barely even started. “Good?”

You nod, tilting your hips a little, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. He laughs a little, shaking his head. “So damn impatient.” 

He raises his body off of yours a little, angling his hips and setting a steady pace, one that has you whining in protest almost immediately, grabbing at the muscles of his ass and trying to drag him closer.

“I won’t break Andrei-” you start, but he cuts you off with a particularly hard thrust that has your eyes rolling back into your head.

“I don’t care if it’s just practice, almaznyy.” He tells you, “and I don’t care how many times we have to practice. I’m going to make it last, and I’m going to make sure that you remember all the ways I fuck you and make love to you until I put a baby in you.”

You gasp a little, and Andrei smiles to himself, thoroughly pleased. He sits up, placing his hands on the backs of your thighs and settling in to fuck you just the way you like. He fucks you in deep, strong strokes, the head of his cock brushing up against that sensitive spot in your pussy every single time.

It steals your breath from you, and all the telltale signs of an orgasm approaching signal to Andrei like a beacon. The way your breathing catches in your throat, the way you can’t keep your eyes open, how your legs start to shake.

He takes his thumb and rests it on your clit, rubbing in lazy circles until your back arches off the bed, a satisfied cry echoing out of your throat and into the pillows beside your head when you come. Your pussy squeezes down in a way that makes Andrei’s head go dizzy, and then he’s coming with a groan, pushing your hips down onto him as he buries himself to the hilt, his orgasm sudden and a shock to his system.

It takes him a second to catch his breath, and moves your legs off of his shoulders to make it easier to pull out of you and give you reprieve, but a noise of protest leaves your throat, and your ankles lock at the base of his spine. 

He pauses, glancing at you curiously when he notices the look on your face.

Andrei thinks back to before you left for San Jose, the day he took you in the shower, and how upset you’d been when he set you down on your feet.

It clicks in his head, then. What you’d been upset about.

He’s still hard - he’s practically always hard when he’s around you - so he moves his hips, slowly pulling back an inch before pushing back inside. You throw your head back, his name leaving your lips in relief, and he smirks. 

Fucking you in shallow thrusts, thumb circling your clit, Andrei watches in fascination as he pushes his come back inside of you with his cock, watches the way your pretty face twists in pleasure, and hums satisfactorily to himself. 

“Is this what you’ve been needing, moya zhena?” He asks, eyes on yours the whole time. “How long have you wanted this?”

You can barely answer him, your head thrown back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut, brows furrowed, back still arched and pushing those beautiful tits of yours up. Andrei takes them in his hands, massaging them, and you keen, pushing into his hands and pussy trying to retreat from his cock with nowhere to go.

The sensation feels different for him. He’s hypersensitive now, all too away of the slick slide of his cock, of your mixed come leaking out of you before he pushes back in, feels heat begin to prick at his skin when your pussy continues to flutter and squeeze, like it’s trying to keep him inside of you. With every brush of his finger over your nipples, your pussy squeezes and you try to pull off of him, but in the next breath you’re winding your hips, pushing back down until he’s buried to the hilt.

Andrei pushes your legs up again before he rests his weight on you gently, his shoulders under your knees, burying his face in your neck and placing his hands under your ass, cradling you closer to him as he starts to fuck you in deeper strokes, drowning in the pleased little noises leaving your lips.

“Ty chuvstvuyesh' sebya tak khorosho, dorogaya,” he murmurs against your neck. You feel so good, darling. 

“Andrei,” you finally manage to breathe out, and relief floods through his veins. There were times when you two made love that you got so lost in the pleasure that you couldn’t speak to him, and it worried Andrei to no end. But you always came back to him, always called for him, and the same calm washes over his body, a shiver running up his spine.

Your arms come up, wrapping around his neck and arching your back, giving him more access to you. Andrei hums, pleased, sucking a bruise into your skin while his cock starts to throb from where he’s fucking you, can feel a second orgasm creeping up when he bites down gently, raking his teeth over the sensitive skin and you start to squeeze and clench around him.

“Gonna come again, almaznyy?” He asks, nosing along your jaw. “Want me to come again, too?”

You nod, turning your head and Andrei meets you, slotting your lips together and swallowing your moans down when you shake gently beneath him, back arching and pushing your body closer to his. His eyes squeeze shut, electricity zipping up his spine when your orgasm tips him over the edge and he’s spilling into you again, groaning against your jaw.

His arms come out from under you and he gently eases your legs back down against the bed, massaging the muscles as he does. Instead of resting them against the bed though, you wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles at his lower back, and Andrei laughs. 

Gently, he rolls you both until he’s laying underneath you instead, careful to keep himself nestled inside of you, and he smiles to himself when you do a half cat-like stretch before sprawling across his chest. 

A pleased little exhale greets his ears after a moment, and his hand comes up, rubbing gentle circles in your back. “Made you lunch,” you tell him, voice hoarse. “‘S in the kitchen.”

“Spasibo, almaznyy.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We should go eat it then, it’s probably cold by now.”

“It’s the chicken caesar salad wraps you like.” You say, lips dragging across his chest as you speak. “And I made strawberry lemonade this morning, should be ready by now.”

He nods, tapping your flank gently. “We should get up, malyshka. Get cleaned up.”

You nod, but you’ve got that look in your eye like before, like you’re disappointed as you carefully lift yourself off of him and roll onto the mattress beside him. Andrei rolls onto his side, cradling your face in his hands. “What’s wrong, moya zhena?” 

You shake your head, a small smile gracing your lips. “Nothing’s wrong, just…excited, is all.”

“Excited?”

“To start a family with you,” you clarify. 

“Then why do you look so sad?” He wonders, thumbing at the pout in your bottom lip.

You laugh, nose scrunching a little before cuddling into him. “It’s silly - I just wanted to start now.”

“It’s only a month, right?” He asks. You nod, nose rubbing at his pec, and he smiles to himself. “That’s good - plenty of time for us to practice, then? Wanna make sure we get it right on the first try.”

You snort. “Perfektsionist.” Perfectionist.

“Only the best for you, moya zhena.” Andrei says, teasing. Underneath it though, you both know that he’s serious. Because if anything, even as he rises from the bed and lifts you in his arms, carrying you into the bathroom, you know he never does anything half assed. 

Now that you’re both on the same page, he’s going to do everything he can to ensure you’re well looked after from beginning to end, and when your little baby eventually comes, he’s going to work twice as hard to make sure the both of you are taken care of, and that you’ll want for nothing.

You, his almaznyy, and your future child, his malen'kaya rubin. His little ruby.

[cerise-on-top]

Hii, how are you? I hope you're fine, can you do pleasseee write how Nikolai, Price and Laswell how react to a reader that dream to be a housewife, someone that just love tô cook and take care of the house. Love youu.

Hello there! I'm fine, thank you! And sure I can!

Price, Laswell and Nikolai with a Housespouse!Reader

Price: I think he’d try to tell you to pursue at least some kind of job. But deep down, he actually would kind of enjoy that, as much as he hates the fact he would. On the one hand, he’s well aware that it’s not that unlikely for him to die on the battlefield and you won’t be able to live off of his earnings forever, so he wants you to have a good education and a well paying job. But on the other hand, he does like the sound of having a housespouse. Just someone sweet and loving to come home to, who will take care of his home, who will cook for him, and who will even do his laundry. Just someone he can spoil and love. He also kind of likes the fact that you’d be somewhat dependent on him, it sort of boosts his ego. But in the end, I feel as though his rational side would win and he would try to get you to get a well-paying job. If you’re still up for it, you can always cook a little bit after work, but he will absolutely not reprimand you for not wanting to either after an eight hour shift. In fact, when he’s home and had some good shut eye, he probably would love to help you out a little with all those chores. He’s an acts of service kind of person. Plus if he really were to pass before you, he wants you to be able to take care of yourself as well. Money wise, I mean. He does kinda hope you’ll miss him at least somewhat after his passing, though.

Laswell: Oh, absolutely not. Not saying that I write for fem!readers, but if you are a woman, then there’s absolutely no chance you’ll be a housewife for her. She loves you, and women did fight quite a while to not have to be housewives for the rest of their lives. No, you’ll get a good education and get a well paying job. Or at least a job that you’ll enjoy. If your thing is crocheting, you’re really good at it and you make ends meet by selling your stuff, though, then that’s fine by her as well, though. But she wants you to have at least some form of stable income. I know it’s not alright for her to think something of that sort, and she is well aware of that, but if you’re more of a gender neutral kind of person, or even a masc one, then she doesn’t mind it as much. Of course, she’d much rather you have a good job that pays your bills, even when she’s not around anymore, but she doesn’t see it as such a big problem if you’re not a woman. I don’t think she’d enjoy it too much, though. In fact, you’ll always have her “meddling” with your work in that she’ll actively do what she can to help you out with chores. Laswell is not a very touchy person, so she shows affection through gift giving and acts of service. And yes, she will absolutely sulk if you don’t let her help you. In fact, she’ll sometimes send you out to buy some groceries, only for her to do some chores that you would have done otherwise. No, you will not be overworking yourself as long as she’s around.

Nikolai: As much as I hate to say it, I do believe he’d actually enjoy having a housespouse as a partner. Nikolai is cocky enough to believe that he’ll actually die of old age instead of on the battlefield. I mean, he is on a good path there, not everyone could go into the military field and make it to 48, but still. He’d actually just love to have someone to come home to, who he can spoil, who will love him despite all the atrocities he commits on the daily. Besides, even if he were to die, he has enough money to actually keep you fed until the day you die, unless you’re bad with money. But that has nothing to do with him. I don’t think he’d actually try to convince you to become a housespouse, but you seem eager enough for it anyway. Still, if you ever grow tired of it and want to change your mind, then he’ll pay for your education. He can get you in just about anywhere too. But he’d love to not have to worry too much about doing chores and stuff when he’s home. Though I do believe he’d still want to cook because his food is heavenly and he knows that. It’s his pride and joy. Though, he would love to buy you just about anything you could ever want or need. Loves coming home to a kiss from you and a good meal on the table when he’s too tired to cook. You’ll absolutely never miss anything at all with him. So yes, he’d definitely love you even more if you wanted to be a housespouse for him.

[fuctacles]

Ao3 | divider by @penny00dreadful

Steve was taking a break from calling clients and munching on his sandwich when his frazzled co-worker stormed in. He never liked the guy, and could never trust someone driven by money like that, but the stormy look on his face gave him a pause. Bill was always composed and giving off the air of a rich boy looking down on anyone else. Whatever put him in such a state must have been big. 

When Bill disappears behind the doors of their manager, Steve curiously leans towards Angela. 

"What's gotten into his pants?" he murmurs, hoping for a piece of gossip.

Angela scoffs.

"Idiot thought he could sell the Creel House."

Angela wasn't a pleasant person. But she was also blunt and always ready to talk shit. And she had the cutest cats, even if she was a bit obsessed with them. She was Steve's go-to for office gossip. And sometimes extra information he missed as one of the newer employees. Office lore, as Dustin would call it.

"What's the Creel House?" he asks genuinely. She eyes him like he's stupid, but he's dealt with those stares long before her, so he holds it down until she folds.

"It's this old house we haven't been able to sell for years, probably around a decade. There's all kinds of stupid rumors around it, like curses and hauntings," she tells him with an eye roll. He snorts to let her know he shares her opinion, as scoffs, snorts, and eye rolls were the language she understood the best. "Bill thought he could go for it after his selling streak last month. Guess the streak just broke." She smiled in that evil way only introverted old ladies could. A chill went down Steve's spine, but he snickered alongside her. 

"What a loser," he commented and focused back on his sandwich, but his imagination was running wild about how the house might look. As soon as he was done with his paperwork for the day, he went looking for the file on Creel's House. 

His manager eyed him weirdly, but he assured him it was mostly curiosity speaking through him.

The file had photos from soon after it was built and more recent ones, after a decade of neglect. There weren't many capturing the interior, but if it was anywhere similar to the outside, it should be in good condition for small renovations. It was big, too. Could become a home for a family, their dog, and visiting friends. Maybe someone's lesbian best friend and her love interest, too...

Needless to say, as soon as Steve found out about it, the house wouldn't leave his thoughts. It had a huge backyard that extended into the woods behind it. It was cheap for a house this size, probably because of its bad rap. And, the most important part, it was closer to Robin than the apartment he was currently renting. 

The last thing to check off on his list was seeing it in person. 

His manager didn't take his request well. 

"You think you can do something Bill couldn't?" he asks with his eyebrows raised. 

It takes all of Steve's strength not to scoff. 

"I'm not planning on selling it. I'm actually considering buying it."

That seems to only amuse his boss further. 

"Ha! You wouldn't be the first. Be my guest then." He shrugs, turning to reach a locked cabinet where the keys to the houses are stored. He hands him the ring of old keys. "Knock yourself out." He grins.

"Thank you." Steve nods and turns around to leave the office as soon as possible. He didn't share his plans with any of his coworkers, not interested in hearing their opinions, but he could feel the amused stares Angela was giving him over her coffee when he was packing to leave for the day.

When he's passing by her desk, she leans forward on her elbows, her proper, trimmed nails posed like claws on the mug. 

"Any plans for the weekend, Steven?" she asks with all the charm of a feral cat. 

Steve knows for a fact that Angela doesn't care about her coworkers' lives unless there are felines or police involved. There's only one reason she could be asking, and it's inside the pocket of his blazer. 

"Not really. Might visit a friend." He shrugs. "You?" 

"Well, good luck with that," Angela completely ignores his question. "I hope nothing spooky happens on your trip," she says as if she hopes something does happen to him.

"Thank you, Angela, you too." Steve nods to his coworker and leaves hastily so nothing evil attaches to him before he even enters a haunted house. 

The house was located an hour's drive away, and he didn't want to rush his exploration, so he waited for the weekend to come around before he went to see it. According to the map, it's been built off the main road, giving a sense of privacy and solitude. It was more part of the forest than the nearest neighborhood. A great place for an eccentric loner or a loud family that didn't want to be a bother.

Steve packed the house files, a notepad, measuring tape, and some lunch for his trip. And, upon some consideration, the upgraded walkie Dustin had given him. He wasn't going to risk being stranded miles from civilization without the means of contact. 

It was a Saturday, before noon, but he dialed the number he called at least once a week.

"Hello?" His favorite person picked up on the third ring, the tone of her voice indicating she had been asleep not so long ago.

"Hey Robs."

"Steve! What's up?"

His smile grew. Hearing her always felt better than he imagined when grabbing the phone, and soon he might be able to see her in person. 

"Do you have any plans for tonight?" he asks coyly, leaning on the wall in his kitchen. 

"I have some papers left to grade and might go grab drinks with the girls later. What about you?"

"I'm about to head out to scout a new house," he says, thumbing at the keys in his pocket. He doesn't want to share his plans yet, since they were mostly wishful thinking. Maybe the repairs were too out of his budget, maybe the house has gotten worse since the last photos of it had been taken. Or maybe there was something weird about it like everyone claimed. "It's on the way to Indianapolis, so if you don't mind, I could make a detour—"

"Do I mind?!" Robin screeches into his ear. He grins despite the volume briefly disorienting him. "I haven't seen you in a month, get your ass down here!" 

"Well, how could I say no, when you ask so nicely," he laughs.

"Damn right, I do!" she snickers back. "Now go go go, the sooner you start driving, the sooner you get here!"

"Okay, Jesus, so bossy."

They say their 'see you soon's and Steve grabs his duffel bag. Even if the house is a total bust, at least he'll spend the weekend with his best friend. 

The house is not a total bust.

He almost misses the turn leading to it, hidden behind overgrown bushes. The drive quickly turns from asphalt to gravel and then disappears completely, and he hopes the overgrown grass framed with young trees is leading him in the right direction.

His worries subside when he spots the roof peeking from between the trees and he's soon rolling into what probably used to be a driveway.

The sound of his car door closing resonates loudly in the rural scenery, scaring some birds above him. As he eyes the bushes between himself and the house's entrance, he wishes he had taken something other than a club with him. Albeit the worst of it has been torn or pushed aside, probably by Bill who's been here before him. The house itself looks like the pictures, maybe the ivy on the side has grown since then. Despite its age of about forty years and being abandoned, it still looks nice. 

He rounds the car and opens up the trunk, where he always had a couple of necessities. A first aid kit, a fire extinguisher, a flamethrower, and such. And the metal bat he reaches for right now. It's better to be safe than sorry, as he's run into squatters before.

He locks the car and using the bat, moves the bushes out of his way to the porch. He tries the steps first, and they seem sturdy so he steps up to the door. The colorful glass in its frame forms a rose. He's not a big fan of the design choice and wonders if it would be hard to get a matching door without it.

The hinges creak loudly when he pushes inside and takes the first proper look at the house's interior. Whoever planned the placement of all the windows did a great job because it felt illuminated from the inside, despite the dust covering everything. On his left is a study room, covered by shelves and with a huge window to provide proper reading light. He gives the cozy-looking chairs a cursory glance and moves on. On the right extends the front porch but with a couple of steps he finds the living room, with an old TV and a collection of couches that indicate the previous owners had a huge group of friends. 

Further down, he finds the dining room, the steps to the back porch, and the kitchen, where he stops for longer. Because there on the fridge, in colorful letter magnets, somebody has spelled 'fuck off'.

Steve snickers. He thought it was a nice touch for an allegedly haunted house. 

Some of the magnets were holding up drawings of dragons and similar creatures. He spotted some yellowing Spider-Man stickers too, so maybe whatever kids used to live here were also little nerds like his friends. Curiously, he opened the fridge to find an ancient can of Coke inside. The cupboards held long-expired jars of herbs, rice, and pasta. It seemed like the house was never properly cleaned out. 

Next on his journey was the upstairs, where he found three bedrooms and two bathrooms. The master bedroom held the biggest and most expensive bed he's ever seen. Dragging it upstairs, even in parts, must have been hell. It had a canopy too, semi-translucent and dark. It partially hid the painting hanging over the headboard, and he had to step closer to take a look at it.

It was another dragon, with its wings spread and toothy mouth dripping with drool on a small figure beneath it - a woman in a skimpy dress, with dragonfly wings. Steve makes a face. 

"A man of peculiar taste, I see," he murmurs to himself, backing away from the bed. The rest of the walls had similar paintings of mythical creatures, making Steve wonder what kind of person the previous owner was. And why would he abandon art and furniture that must have cost a small fortune? 

He opened the door on the side, which turned out to lead into a small walk-in closet. It had a full length mirror and the few things left on hangers looked more like costumes than regular clothes. The owner must have been an eccentric artist type. An actor, maybe? Or a musician, he notes, spotting an empty guitar stand in the corner. 

At least the bathroom looks relatively normal if you don't count the gargoyle faucets added in.

The guest room paintings are far more tame, giving the impression the owner wanted the saucy ones for himself. Aside from that, there's nothing really exciting about them. The furniture looks to be on the more expensive side, but if Steve didn't have his realtor knowledge he proably wouldn't even notice.

He checks the windows, which seem to be in good shape, maybe one or two need replacing, and others just need extra insulation. The back porch looks even better than the front one, but the backyard is a mess. It's surrounded by a tall fence to keep the wildlife away, but throughout the years, the forest started creeping through, the roots digging beneath, plants dropping their seeds to grow. It would be a lot of work to get rid of it.

The whole house was a lot of work, but not as much as Steve had feared. The construction was solid and it stood against weather and abandonment for years without taking much damage. He probably wouldn't need professionals for most of it. 

He stood in the middle of the foyer, listening to his guts while looking around the abandoned, empty house. He knew he had time to make a decision. He could talk it out with Robin if he wanted, although keeping it a surprise sounded more fun.

Giving the ground floor one last lazy stroll, he spots a door he had missed earlier. It's smaller than the usual door, making Steve assume it leads to the basement. Or, as the wooden plaque on the door claims, "The Dungeon". Which was not mentioned in the house plans he'd looked through. 

He pulls out the key ring from his back pocket to look for the right one, though he doesn't remember 'basement' being among the labels. He flicks through all of them again.

Main. Back. Master. Guest 1. Guest 2.

No basement in sight. 

Perhaps the key went loose from the keyring, or it was somewhere in the house. He wasn't about to go on a wild goose chase to see some cobwebs and spiders when the alternative was getting on the road to see his friend. 

He steps into the library once again, probably the most normal room of them all, and takes a closer look at the titles on the shelves. It's more fantasy, as he expected, with some classics he's heard about from Dustin, but mostly titles unknown to him. He finds a whole shelf of D&D manuals, too. He picks one up with a curious hum, wondering if there's a way to get those even if he doesn't go with the house after all. 

He's not sure how old the game is (Dustin had told him multiple times, but he always forgets) but he wouldn't be surprised if all the released material so far was in here. He gently places the paperback back in its place, assuming that they were stored in order and he didn't want to disturb that. He took a step back to take the room in.

Walls covered in books, floor to ceiling, a fireplace with figurines on the mantle, four cozy armchairs, and a low table with a map under a glass pane. Middle Earth, of course. 

The Party would love it, he muses. It doesn't feel like a coincidence, that the house he considers buying, has things that would appeal to his friends. But he knows he has to make a smart decision. And nothing clears his mind better than a night out with his best friend. 

read the rest on Ao3