#took the opportunity to add a bit more of connor in this version

[aces-and-angels]

Title: Close to You (SFW Edition)

A/N: Hello friends! I had the sudden urge to reread a fic I had originally written for ILAW and decided that I wanted to give it a makeover. Why? 1. bc I’m always up for exploring Ro’s life post-finale. and 2. I thought it would be nice to have a version of this story to share with the girlies (gn) who aren’t into nsfw content. 

To make things exciting for old and new readers, instead of just removing this fic’s ‘dirty thirty’ scene, I wrote an alternate scene in its place. For returning readers, the new content begins under #3. As always, I hope y’all enjoy 🖤

Pairing(s): Abel x MC (F!Rowan), Connor x MC (M!Devon)

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: Set sometime after the ILW finale (Mixed Route) by @itlivesproject​; The many times Rowan wakes up without Abel, and the one time she does.

cw: language; brief mention of blood 

—

1.

Mornings were usually lost on Rowan. Despite following Jocelyn’s intense training regimen, chasing down horrors left her exhausted on a good day. And on a bad one? The ever-shrinking rolls of gauze and medical tape in the first aid kit speak for themselves.

But today was neither a good day nor a bad one. It was the last one. The last one in California, that is- and knowing that left her restless.

It’s pitch black when she wakes up. The world may as well be at a standstill. There were no cars on the road. The neighbors have long since turned in for the night. Even the croaks and whistles of nature disappeared into the wind. She pointedly avoids the clock mounted on the opposite wall. It’s better this way. Easier for her to pretend that time had stopped altogether.

As the grogginess fades, Rowan becomes aware of the weight resting on her. A soft smile graces her lips as she realizes what it is. Or rather, who it is. Abel had rolled over to her side. His head found purchase in the crook of her neck while his arm loosely draped over her frame. So clingy, she thought, raising her hand to stroke his hair. He lets out a pleased hum in response, nuzzling further into her skin.

There’s no stopping the warmth that creeps inside her chest. It swells, dipping down to her belly and back up again, filling her heart. Slow, yet instantaneous. With her eyes locked on him, she hangs onto the moment. No sensation, no matter how little, goes uncherished. Her arm grows numb, but she doesn’t dare to move.

But eventually, her hold on time loosens. The moment fades as her breath gradually matches his, her hand still on his head. All the while, the clock on the wall ticks away. Cars begin to fill the streets. The croaks and whistles of nature mix back in with the wind.

—

“Live from KQED news, I’m Natalia Navarro, filling in for Diane. Good news for commuters! Traffic this morning on the-”

Half-asleep, Rowan blindly reaches out, feeling for the smooth surface of the phone screen. Her irritation grows the longer she searches. Glasses. Water bottle. Abel’s copy of Treasure Island. Glasses again. Where the hell is it? The news reporter continues to babble on, moving from traffic to weather. It’s only when they reach the sports segment does a much larger hand guide hers toward the phone. With a single swipe, the broadcast finally goes silent.

“It’s easier to find things with your eyes open, y’know,” Abel chuckles.

“Tell that to the blind,” she counters.

“You’re not blind. You’re stubborn. Wanna open them for me now?”

“Nope, ‘s too early.” She doesn’t miss how his mouth curves up even with her eyes shut. Not a minute passes before he’s shifting his body, the sheets rustling with his movements. Then, there’s a soft peck on her cheek.  

“Still too early?” The sheer proximity and the low timber of his voice made her shudder.

“Mhm,” she responds, barely suppressing a smile. The bed dips as Abel leans in closer. Her body stiffens with anticipation. Another featherlight kiss, this time on her neck. Quick, but enough to make her skin tingle. “You’ll have to try harder than tha- AH!” A sudden wetness in her ear startles her eyes wide open.

“Gotcha,” Abel grins, triumphantly sticking his tongue out at her. Despite his teasing, his gaze was gentle. It made it annoyingly difficult to glare at him. But she wasn’t quite ready to yield to his charm.

“You are such a- mmph-” he swallows her words with a kiss.

“M’sorry,” he murmurs against her lips, slating his mouth over hers once more.

The will to fight back vanishes- as does any thoughts she had left in her mind. All of them were replaced by the need to glide her hands anywhere she could reach. To feel everything- the rough edges of his scars, the steady thump of his heartbeat, the air leaving her lungs as she kisses him senseless. But, much to her disappointment, Abel pulls away first. “You were saying?” he asks, his tone slightly taunting.

“Um- I- you-” she stammers, unable to form a cohesive thought. Her attempts to collect herself fail miserably. Abel moving closer to rest his forehead on hers also didn’t help anything.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he whispers. That snaps Rowan out of her daze.  

“That’s my line,” she smirks, brushing her nose with his. “And how dare you. I’m always cute.”

“You certainly are.” His hand gently cups her face, lingering briefly before dropping to her side. They stay that way, lying face to face, and breathe each other in. Unlike earlier, the room was now full of color. Morning light peeks through the blinds, casting a beautiful, golden hue over Abel’s features. He glows brighter than any sun. Much easier to stare at too, Rowan jokes in her head. “What’s that smile for?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing. I was just thinking how cute you are for someone with a raging case of bedhead,” she snorts, attempting to tame his unruly mess of hair.

He lets out an exaggerated gasp, which causes her to snicker even more. Tugging at a loose strand of her hair, he sasses back. “You should see what I’m looking at.”

“Baby, what you’re looking at is sheer perfection.”

His eyes glimmer with mischief. “Perfection could use a hairbrush.”

“Rude,” she scoffs, playfully smacking his arm. Still, she allows him to pull her into his arms. Wrapping her own around his broad frame, Rowan feels his shoulders shake. “You’re lucky I love you,” she mumbles into his neck.

“Luckiest man alive,” he manages to choke out between laughs. The joyous, airy sound is infectious, and she finds herself unable to keep a straight face. After a few minutes, his laughter dies out, and there’s a slight pause. Something in the air shifts. Then, ever so softly, he calls out. “Ro?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna miss you.” Her chest tightens at the sadness in his voice. The reality she desperately wanted to escape had finally caught up with her. But the only thing worse than her leaving Abel was leaving Abel upset. So, with a deep breath, she steels her nerves and pulls away just enough to look at him directly.

“Hey, I’m still here,” she soothes, lovingly stroking his cheek with her thumb. He glances over at the wall. His frown deepens.

“Only for another hour,” he grumbles, his eyes glued to the minute hand. Shit, was it already that soon? “I swear, that thing moves faster when you’re here.”

“Baby, look at me.” Her gentle tone brings his attention back to her. “One, I hate that damn clock too.” That earns her a short, breathy laugh. “Two, it’s not forever. Just for now. And three, I love you.”

“I love you. So much.” With that, he leans in and kisses her. Slow and sweet- like they had all the time in the world. Until they didn’t.

—

The hour was up before they knew it. Outside, Rowan slides into the driver’s seat of her car. Abel sticks his head through the open window. “Did you pack your charger?”

“Yes, you watched me pack it remember?”

“Right,” he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, how about your wallet? Do you have that?”

“And all the cards that go with it.”

“What about-”

“Abel,” she interrupts his well-intentioned checklist.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got everything. I promise.” She rubs his hand comfortingly, giving it a quick squeeze.

“Alright,” he concedes. “Drive safe, yeah?”

“Go 30 miles over the speed limit. Got it.” Rowan kisses him once. Then, twice. Then, once again. She bumps her forehead with his. “Love you.”

“Love you more. Now go before I change my mind and carry you back inside.” Reluctantly, Abel steps away, allowing her to roll up her window. Turning the key in the ignition, the engine roars to life. She takes more time than necessary to switch between radio stations. Unbeknownst to her, Abel watches as she needlessly adjusts her mirrors with a sad smile. She does it for the same reason his feet stay rooted at the side of her car door: to savor those final few seconds together.

—

The five-hour drive to Westchester was nothing new to her. She had become somewhat of an expert, no longer relying on the GPS to guide her home. Straight highways eventually curved into winding mountain roads. It’s late in the afternoon when she arrives. The sky had turned grey as clouds blocked out the sun’s rays. She is grabbing the last of her bags from the trunk when someone yells, “Rowan, is that you?” Sitting by the apartment building was Señora Gomez.

“Yeah, it’s me! Hi Señora,” she greets warmly, walking over to her.

“How was California?”

“Fantastic. Abel says hi. He also told me to tell you to lay off the smoking.” She gives a pointed look at her hand.

“That pendejo is 300 miles away, yet still finds a way to nag me,” she clicks her tongue, begrudgingly putting out her cigarette. Rowan stifles a laugh.

“Well, he does a little more for you than that.” The older woman’s eyebrow quirks up with interest. Grinning, she takes out a medium-sized container from her suitcase. “He baked you these conchas. He wanted to make you a tres leches cake, but I thought these would survive the drive better.” Señora Gomez’s eyes light up, her hands eagerly reaching for her gift.

“Ay, I knew I liked that boy for a reason,” she beams, her previous qualm against him already forgotten. “Muchas gracias, mija. Here, take one! You must be hungry from driving.” Knowing better than to refuse her offer, Rowan graciously accepts. The stickiness from the topping instantly coats her fingers. Much like Abel, Señora Gomez stares at her expectantly, waiting for her to eat. Several crumbs fall from her hand as she takes a bite.

“’Fank you,” she says, swallowing before speaking again. “Enjoy those. I’m gonna head inside.”

“I will,” she practically chirps. Rowan grabs the handle of her suitcase and makes her way up to her apartment. After struggling to unlock the door, she’s nearly tackled to the ground by a very excited Moss.

“Damn, Moss. At least let me get inside first,” she chuckles, dropping her bags in the corner. Crouching down, she coos, “Did you miss me, boy?” Moss barks loudly in response. Rowan scratches behind his ear, making his bony tail wag in delight.

“For an undead dog, he’s a damn good runner. Might be better than you, Burke,” Jocelyn says from her spot on the couch.

Ignoring her lighthearted jab, Rowan continues to pet Moss. “Thanks for watching him, Joss. I really appreciate it.”

She shrugged off her gratitude. “Eh, it’s no problem. How’s the nerd?”

“Abel’s doing fine. You should’ve tagged along. It would’ve been fun.”

Her nose scrunches up. “Watch you two be gross during the day and hear you guys fuck through the walls for an entire week? Pass.”

“We didn’t-” Rowan’s protest falters as Jocelyn crosses her arms, giving her a flat look. “It wasn’t the entire week,” she mutters unconvincingly.

“Right. Anyways, I’m gonna head out. Don’t forget- we’re meeting up with the others tomorrow morning.”

“I won’t let you down, coach,” she salutes, which earns her a fond eyeroll.

“Get some sleep, Burke. You look like shit,” she barks over her shoulder. The door clicks shut, leaving her alone with Moss.

“C’mon boy, let’s make some dinner,” she claps. The pitter-patter of his paws follow her to the kitchen, where he (somewhat) patiently waits for his food.

—

The rest of the evening is uneventful. Unpacking her suitcase turned into watching reruns of Dateline. She leans forward, engrossed by the witness testimonies. It’s always the husband. Suddenly, her phone chimes, lighting up the screen with a notification. Her face softens as she reads what it says:

Abel💛: Heading to bed soon- sweet dreams, baby. I love you

She rapidly types back a response, her attention still glued to the television.

Rowan: love you ♥

The phone chimes two more times.

Abel💛: Ro, stop watching Dateline

Abel💛: It’s late. Go to bed

She frowns. How’d he know- Another chime.

Abel💛: We share a Hulu account

Amused, she responds.

Rowan: Okay, mom. I’m going lol

She shuts off the TV. “Looks like the jig is up for us, buddy.”

Moss yawns loudly, stirring from his spot on her lap.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s bedtime.” He hops off the couch and shuffles his way to his dog bed. Within minutes, his loud snores fill the living room. “Night Moss.”

Rowan sheds off her outerwear, slipping on one of Abel’s old college hoodies. Crawling into the sheets, she sends him a picture of her in bed with a text that says, ‘happy?’ He responds immediately.

Abel💛: Very. You look incredibly hot in that btw  

Rowan: that’s why i wore it

Abel💛: You’re evil

Rowan: an incredibly hot evil genius- i know, i’m amazing.

Abel💛: I’m sleeping before you give me any more ideas 😓

Rowan: i say lean into that inspiration- sweet dreams, baby 😘

She sets her phone on the nightstand along with her glasses. It doesn’t take long for her eyelids to droop, growing heavier with every blink. Curling on her side, she inhales the faint scent that lingered on her hoodie. Notes of cinnamon and soap lull her into a dreamless slumber.

—

“Live from WNX, this is Cameron St. Claire. Good morning, Westchester! We’ve got a great show for you folks. Today’s guest is former congresswoman-”

Rowan’s hand slaps at her phone, shutting off the alarm. Every part of her body protested against being awake; Her legs refused to move- her eyes struggled to open. But she muscles through the drowsiness, not wanting to be late.

She stretches her arms out, sighing in relief as her spine cracks with a satisfying pop. Her hand falls, landing on the space next to her- right where Abel would be. She clutches at the empty sheets. It’s not forever. Just for now.

—

2.

*one week later, Rowan’s apartment*

The bathroom counter was littered with various tubs, tubes, and palettes. Rowan’s hand steadies at her lash line, carefully applying eyeliner. Her wrist flicks up to draw a perfect wing. Well, a passable one, at least. It had taken a lengthy YouTube tutorial and several makeup wipes, but the results were worth it.

She strolled into the living room, stopping in front of the floor-length mirror. Damn. I’m hot. Jocelyn told her it was overkill to buy a new black dress to eat at home. But the way it hugged her curves was all the reason she needed to get it. Plus, she knew it would drive Abel crazy. They did agree to dress up, after all.  

“What do you think, Moss?” Moss, lounging on the couch, perks up at his name. She strikes a pose for him. “Pretty good, huh?”

He barks happily, the best compliment he could give.

After her shift at the bar, she’d gone out to grab everything she needed. A white tablecloth to add a bit of flare. Candles for ambiance. And the pièce de résistance: Thai food from Kanda House. Her laptop was placed on the opposite side of the dining table, the camera pointed at where she was seated. She quickly shakes her wireless mouse, clicking on the Zoom link Abel sent her yesterday. Only her video appears on the screen. Guess I’m early. Out of habit, she turns off her camera and microphone while she waits.

Her fingers tap rhythmically against the hardwood. A soft, orange glow radiates from the candlelight, its flames gently flickering left and right. Rowan’s eyes follow the flames dance, watching the wax slowly melt away.

“Baby, are you there? Can you hear me?” Her face immediately lights up at Abel’s voice. She unmutes her microphone.

“I’m here! Ready to be impressed?”

“By you? Always.”

“Alright, turn on your camera on three. One… two… three,” she clicks the camera icon. Their video feeds turn on simultaneously. “Hi,” she greets softly.  

“Hi,” he echoes. “Wow. You look-”  

“I know. So do you.” Unlike her, he opted to wear something that was already in his closet. Not that she minded. Quite the opposite. She couldn’t help but admire him in his father’s old blazer, entranced by the way it stretched at his shoulders. “I like the suit,” she compliments.

‘I love yours,” he sighed.

Rowan bit back a smile. “You love my suit?”

He blinks, confused, before correcting himself. “Dress. I meant dress. Cut me some slack, okay? I’m processing.” A sense of pride surged through her at knowing she could have that effect on him, even virtually.

“Process away, professor. I did get dolled up for you, after all,” she teases, leaning closer to the camera.  

“Consider your efforts thoroughly appreciated.” A buzz from his phone breaks him out of his trance. His eyes dart down, flashing with recognition at the message. “Speaking of effort, I have a surprise for you.”

“You do?” She can barely contain her curiosity, her mind shuffling through all the possible things he could’ve done.  

“Should be at your door any minute now,” he sings. As if on cue, there is a knock on her door. Moss jumps off the couch to inspect the scene himself. He eagerly circles around the welcome mat, barking at the unexpected visitor.

“Moss, down,” Rowan commands. Obediently, he scoots further back. “Good boy,” she praises, then turns back to Abel. “Who is that?”

A knowing smirk spreads on his lips. “Why don’t you go and find out?”

Giddily, she half-jogs to the door, smoothing out her dress. A deliveryman, no older than 20, stood outside with a large bouquet of white calla lilies in hand.  “Rowan Burke?”

She raises her hand. “That’s me.”

“These are for you. Please sign here.” She quickly scribbles her signature on his tablet before taking the flowers from him. “Cool, you’re all set. Have a good night.”

“You too,” she replies, shutting the door. The shock had barely worn off by the time she sits back down. “Oh. My. God.”

“My coworker’s brother is a florist. I picked those because they reminded me of your hair. You like them?” Abel asks, his expression hopeful.

“Baby, I…” she trails off, mesmerized by the elegant display of lilies in front of her. They stood tall, carefully arranged amongst smaller bundles of baby’s breath. She reaches up to touch one of the petals, appreciating the soft texture between her fingertips. Her heart constricts inside her chest, a rush of emotion hitting her all at once. “I fucking hate you.”

His eyebrows shoot up, clearly not expecting that response. “What?! Why?”

“Because I really want to kiss you right now and I can’t,” she whines helplessly.

His features soften. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to make it up to me when we see each other again.”

“I intend to. I’ve got quite the tab to settle with you,” she quips.

Grinning, he continues their banter. “Do you now?”

“Mhm, and I pay with interest,” she winks flirtatiously. Suddenly, a loud gurgle erupts from her stomach.

“We can discuss your payment plan after dinner. Let’s eat,” Abel chuckles, picking up his fork from the table. They spent the rest of their date chatting over their respective meals. She enjoyed a green curry while he ate away at his leftover barbacoa from last night.

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you,” Rowan exclaimed, her words muffled by the rice in her mouth. “I got promoted! You are looking at Westchester Bar & Grill’s newest bartender.”

“That’s great, baby,” Abel congratulated.

“I know! I finally got out of dishwashing duty. And here’s the best part: I get a 30% employee discount on all the food and drinks there. Next time you visit, we’re getting hammered.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll just stick to the wings. I’m not much of a drinker.” To further prove his point, he holds up his glass of water.

“Aw, why?”  

“Because the last time I got drunk, I ended up doing the butterfly naked in a pool.”

She snorts, hiding her laugh behind a napkin. “The butterfly?”

“A rendition of it, yeah,” he elaborates sheepishly.

“You’re such a dork,” she shakes her head. “Okay, no getting hammered. We can be fancy and slowly sip on a glass of white wine together, instead.”

He smiles warmly at her. “Sounds perfect.”

“Of course it does. It was my idea,” she boasted, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Her mood sours as her eyes catch the time displayed on the microwave. “I should get going. I have an early day tomorrow.”

“Me too,” he agreed dejectedly.  

Neither of them move to end the call.

The candles on the table had melted down to tiny nubs, more flame than wax at this point. They don’t say goodbye. Goodbyes hurt too much. They leave that word unspoken, choosing to say this instead:

“I love you, Ro.”

“I love you too, Archaeology Boy.”

And then her laptop goes dark.

—

3.

*another day in Westchester*

Not many people tend to frequent Westchester’s only bar. The occasional patron that would stumble in during the day was far more likely to be there for the food rather than the drinks. Which made it the perfect time to learn how to bartend.

“Alright Burke, let’s see if you’ve done your reading.”

Rowan stares at Niel from behind the bar, a series of nozzles and glasses in front of her. “Hit me, boss.”

“I’ll have one classic daiquiri, an old fashioned, one Moscow mule, and three green tea shots.” He presses start for the timer on his watch. “Go.”

In a flash, she sets all the glassware upright for mixing before turning to grab the liquor. The ingredients along with any garnishes that were needed were already prepped. This was simply a test of speed and finesse- her third attempt since being promoted. Her first try ended with spilled liquor, a sticky floor, and a broken shot glass. The bottles that once felt foreign in her hands- too heavy and awkward to grasp- were now held with a firm, confident grip as she poured out the liquid with practiced ease. It wasn’t long until she slid his completed order towards him. “Your libations, good sir.”

Niel stops the timer. “Hm, not bad.”

“Not bad? I crushed that.”

“Let’s put a pin on the ego until after I try the drinks, yeah?” He picks up the bronze mug closest to him, eyeing its contents before taking a sip. There was no obvious sign of disgust. That’s good, I think? But Niel left little up for interpretation, his face remaining stoic as he smacked his lips together to assess the flavors. Being the only two people in the bar only added to the scrutiny she felt. The only sounds between them were the clank of glasses against the wooden countertop.

“So?”

“So what?”

“How’d I do?”

Niel sniffs, setting down his empty shot glass with a thud. “Decent presentation overall. You don’t need to look up the ingredients anymore, which is good. You’re still a heavy pourer, though. I'll go bankrupt if you keep that up.”

“I’m sensing a big, fat but coming,” she sings, leaning forward with a smirk tugging at her lips.

“But you managed to pass the test, kid,” he sighs. His exasperation only grew as she celebrated her triumph.

“Fuck yeah! Goodbye dishes, hello sweet tip jar. Up top,” Rowan hollered, holding out her hand to Niel, who only stared at her palm blankly. “Oh, c’mon boss. Don’t leave me hanging.”

There’s a brief pause. A moment where she thinks her request will be denied. Then, it comes- the roughness of his weathered skin meeting hers in a single, satisfying slap. “Anyone tell you that you’re insufferable yet?”

“Too many to count. I take it as a compliment,” she snickers, putting the empty shot glasses in the sink. “What do you want me to do with the extra drinks?”

“Consider this happy hour, Burke.”

Rowan’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’re not bullshitting me, are you? Like if I agree, you won’t fire me right?

“Ain’t anyone here to entertain. Just make sure you’re sober before the dinner rush.” With that, Niel swipes the old fashioned and heads towards his office in the back.

“I love this job,” she hums, sipping on a daiquiri. 

~later that night~

“Get yer paws off my keys, woman!”

Rowan groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. I spoke too soon. “Jasper, you’re drunk. You can’t drive.”

“The hell I can’t! I’m per- belch- perfectly fine,” he slurs. His poor attempt to prove her wrong ended with him faceplanting on the floor. 

“That looks about right.” She pockets his keys before moving to lift him off the floor.

“That was smooth,” Devon comments from his stool.

“Are you here just to criticize me?" Rowan grunts, pushing Jasper up against the nearest booth. He snores loudly, but otherwise is dead to the world.

"I'm here for the free booze, actually. The critiques are a bonus," he winks cheekily.

"What he means to say is thank you. Isn't that right, sweetheart?" Connor gives his fiancé a pointed look, which he returns with one of his own. They stare each other down, having a full conversation with their eyes alone.

Eventually, Devon relents. "Ugh, fine. Thank you for the free booze. Happy?"

"Very." Connor gives him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Aw, that was really moving," she coos, placing a hand over her heart. Her façade crumbles into a fit of laughter as he teasingly flips her off. "But you guys don't have to thank me. Consider it an early wedding gift."

"There will be another gift from you at the actual wedding though, right?"

Connor nudges him with his elbow. "Devon!"

"What? I'm just asking!"

Rowan only smirks, returning to her place behind the bar. She slides a half empty champagne bottle towards them. "I trust you two will know what to do with the rest of this. I'm gonna call a cab for Jasper."

"Hey, you didn't answer the question!"

Connor pats him lovingly on the shoulder. "Let it go, sweetheart."

"Yeah, let it go sweetheart," she taunts. Devon glares at her, ready to argue, but is quickly distracted by another glass of champagne being shoved into his hand.

"To us," Connor cheers, clinking their glasses together. Chuckling, Rowan takes the opportunity to escape and walks into Niel's office.

"Evening, boss. Jasper's passed out on table four."

Niel heaves out a long sigh then picks up the phone on his desk. "He didn't puke on my floors, did he?"

"Happy to report that your floors are vomit-free."

"Fantastic. Go make sure it stays that way," he says.

"On it," she salutes, turning back towards the bar. Upon her arrival, she catches Devon and Connor in the middle of a heated make out session, their champagne flutes empty and forgotten on the counter. Well, that didn't take long. They don't notice her presence at all- completely lost in each other's embrace. "Ahem."

The sound startles them both apart, their heads simultaneously whipping in her direction. It was hard not to laugh at their equally disheveled appearance. "Oh- uh- hey! H-how long have you been standing there?" Connor asks breathlessly, his voice hoarse.

"Long enough to see tongue." Her blunt response causes Connor to flush profusely.

"Don't mind her, babe. She's just jealous," Devon purrs, sliding his hand down Connor's chest suggestively, which only made him blush harder.

"W-we should head out," Connor suggests, gently prying his fiancé's hand off his body.

"Mm, yeah we should. I can't wait to-"

"And we're going!" Connor blurts out, cutting him off. "Ro, thanks for everything."

"It was my pleasure. You boys enjoy the rest of your night." She tips her head at them, thoroughly amused. Devon stumbles forward, giggling as he and Connor leave the bar hand in hand.

—

It’s nearly three in the morning by the time Rowan makes it back to her apartment. Moss, loyal as ever, greets her at the front door. "Hey, bud. What are you still doing up? Did you wait for me?"

He makes a small noise in his throat, nuzzling her leg lovingly.

"Good boy," she praises, scratching the spot behind his ear. After a moment, Moss licks her palm and trots to his bed. Taking his lead, she plops herself on the couch, sinking into the soft cushions. The hours of standing had taken a toll on her feet. Turns out combat boots weren't the best choice of footwear for pulling a double shift.

For the first time that night, she checks her phone. One text from Amalia, two emails that are probably spam, and a voicemail from Abel.

Bitch: congrats on the new gig! shots on you next time i’m in town lol

She chuckles quietly while typing her reply.

Rowan: i’ll make sure to save the really good stuff if you bring over some la bandera

As expected, her message is left unread. Amalia always had the healthier sleeping pattern between them. Even before the nightmares. She goes to her voicemail next, pressing play.

“Hey baby!” Abel’s warm voice fills her ears, instantly bringing a smile to her face. “Remember that research proposal I'm working on? The rest of the team thinks we have a real shot at getting our grant approved! I’m so excited- I know I shouldn't get my hopes up too high, but I can't help it. I already baked two dozen sugar cookies trying to burn off all this energy. Anyways, I'm calling because I wanted you to be the first to know. Well, second. Lola called me earlier. Not sure when you’ll hear this so goodnight, good morning, or good afternoon if you end up sleeping through your alarms again. Love you.”

Her vision was blurry by the time the message ends. It was simple- nothing more than an update. So why was she teary eyed over it?

Maybe it was because Jasper decided to throw up right when her shift ended. Maybe it was from the soreness in her muscles from working a double. Or maybe it was just because it was 3 AM. Yeah, that’s it.

It’s 3 AM. She's tired.

It’s 3 AM and all she wants to do is call him, hear him talk way too fast that his words blend together because he's happy. But she doesn’t.

Because it’s 3. Fucking. AM.

If anything, she’d be pissed at him for being awake or pissed at herself for waking him up.

Frustrated, her gaze lands on the calla lilies resting on the coffee table. Its petals have since wilted despite her best efforts to maintain them, but she couldn’t bring herself to throw them away. Not when the only thing she sees whenever she admires them is him. Him and his stupidly adorable face.

A face she could only see in flowers. One that’s forever mixed with golden rays of light. He’s plastered all over the walls- old family photos he couldn’t fit in his suitcase along with some of their own. Behind closed eyes, if she’s lucky, he appears in her dreams. She can see him everywhere. Just not in person.

It’s 3 AM, so she sends one last message. The only one her brain can manage to think of at a time like this.

Rowan: I miss you.

—

She wakes up to the sound of rain hitting the rooftop. There’s a nasty crick in her neck from passing out on the couch. Groaning, she turns away from the window, blocking the light with a throw pillow. Meanwhile, the calla lilies droop a little further as the pile of petals surrounding its vase grows. On the floor, her phone screen lights up. A single message is left unread.

Abel 💛: I miss you too

—

4.

*one week later, at the warehouse*

“A gun?” Rowan examines the weapon in her hand, testing its weight. Huh, it’s pretty light.

“A dart gun,” Tom clarifies. “This bad boy is gonna make injecting horrors way easier. Allow me to demonstrate.” He takes the gun from her, unloading the cartridge. “See that chamber on the darts?”

She nods. “What about ‘em?”

“I filled them all up with Lucas’ serum,” he explains enthusiastically. “With this you won’t have to tackle every horror you see. Just pull the trigger and presto, another cured human.” He mimes shooting a horror down with his fingers. Impressed, Rowan claps him on the back.

“Nice work, Sato. Where’d you get all the darts anyways?”

“Parker knows a guy from Animal Control.”

“Hm, I guess there is a bright side to having a cop for a friend.” Tom snorts loudly, drawing the attention of the witches nearby. “When can I test it out?”

“Today, possibly. Devon found a new lead, but he’s driving up to Portland with Connor for a cake tasting. I’ve got work in an hour, so I’m out. Can you and Jocelyn take this one?”

Grinning, she whips out her cell phone. “Already on it.”

~one hour later~

The sun hung high in the sky. Tall trees surrounded her from all sides. Up ahead, Jocelyn examines a smear of blood splattered on a boulder. “Burke, come check this out.”

Rowan jogs to where she is, peering down at the rock. Her fingers swipe a line through the stain. “It’s still warm. Maybe-” a terrified shriek in the distance cuts her off. Her and Jocelyn take off immediately. They weave through the forest trail, cutting across a shallow river. Adrenaline courses through her, propelling her legs to run faster. “Which way?”

“Go right,” Jocelyn barks out. The screams grow louder. A harsh growl roars through the air.

“RRAGH!”

“HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!”

Rowan unholsters her dart gun, her boots pounding hard against the gravel below. A blood-splattered horror enters her field of vision. Next to them was a  teenage boy, desperately trying to stumble away from his attacker. His face is marred with scratch marks. He receives another gash to his leg as the horror swipes at it with their claws.

“Hey ugly! Over here!” Rowan whistles. The horror spins around, their face twisting with rage. No longer interested in the boy, they charge directly at her. “That’s it. Just a little closer.” Her finger steadies itself on the trigger, waiting for a clear shot. She looks through the sight and lowers her shoulders to fix her aim. With a deep breath, she pulls the trigger. Shooting out the barrel, the dart hits the horror square in the chest.

They collapse to their knees, groaning as the serum enters their bloodstream. Tremors wrack through their body as their sickly grey skin transforms back into a warm beige. Their claws retract and their frame shrinks back to normal. “Wh-wha? Where am I?”

“About five miles off regulation hiking trails. Now let’s go,” she replies, pulling them up to their feet. They glance at the teenage boy, who was currently being bandaged up by Jocelyn. Their face morphs with regret.

“Was that because of me?”  

Rowan looks at them with sympathy. “It wasn’t your fault. If you follow me, I can get you the help you need.”

“A-alright,” they nod, brushing the dirt off their clothes. “Um? Could you?” They point at the dart lodged in their chest.

“Right. Sorry.” Rowan grips the base of the dart and swiftly pulls it out. “Hey Joss! You okay if I go ahead and take them to the warehouse?”

“Yeah, sure. I won’t be- BURKE, YOUR LEFT!” She whirs her head around in time to see a second horror, much larger than the former, barrel into her, knocking her to the ground.

“Get- off- me-” she grunts, struggling to pry the horror’s hands off her arm. A kick to their abdomen pushes them off enough for her to crawl out from under them.

“You’re mine,” they sneer, baring their fangs out menacingly. A string of drool hangs loosely from their lip. Rowan tries to lift herself up, but the horror moves faster, tackling her back down. The force of the impact sends them both tumbling down a hill. A searing pain shoots through her as she slams into a jagged stone. There’s yelling in the distance. The weight of the horror on top of her is pulled off. A panicked voice tells, no, begs her to wake up. But she can’t seem to focus, her head suddenly hazy. Something trickles down her forehead. The last thing she sees is sunlight shining through the thick foliage of the trees. Then, everything goes quiet.

~meanwhile, at Rowan’s apartment~

Abel locks the car door behind him as he skips up the stairs of his old apartment complex. He spent the last couple of days in back to back meetings with his research students, but it was well worth it because it cleared his schedule for him to surprise Rowan. Excitement bubbled up inside his chest as he got closer to her door. She had loved the flowers he got her so much that he decided to buy the same bouquet again. Only this time, he could give it to her in person.

He adjusts the collar of his sweater and rolls back his shoulders before knocking on her front door. A moment passes. He knocks again. This is what I get for being spontaneous, he scolds himself. Taking out his phone, he calls her. The phone rings several times.

“Hey, this is Ro. Leave a message if you want. Beep.”

He tries again, but is met with the same voice message. Suddenly, his phone vibrates in his hand. BFFL 👩🏻‍🤝‍👨🏽 displays on the screen. He quickly taps the answer button. “Joss! Guess what? I’m back in town! Is Rowan with you? I guess I should’ve told her I was-”

“Abel, something happened.” The seriousness in her voice gives him pause.

“Where are you?”

“The hospital. Listen, she’ll be fine but-” His stomach drops. He’s too distraught to listen to anything else Jocelyn tells him. The flowers in his hand drop to the ground, forgotten. His feet are running before he can register that he’s moving.

—

*several hours later, at Westchester Medical Center*

The strong smell of antiseptic hits Rowan first. Machines whir and chime in a steady pattern.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Calling Dr. Benson to Room 8.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.  

She struggles to open her eyes. The florescent light above her too bright for her to bare. Through the small slit of her eyelids, she sees that she’s dressed in a white gown. Tubes of IV lines hang from her arm. Where am I? Something soft presses to her hand. It’s warm. Familiar. As the haziness fades, the ache in her limbs become more apparent. Everything is sore. Why does it hurt to breathe? Metal rings clang together. Some sort of curtain being pulled, she assumes. Then, a young man’s voice breaks through the white noise.

“Sir, only family is allowed to stay after visiting hours.”

“But I am family! I’m uh- I’m her fiancé,” Abel stutters out. Abel? But he’s in California. Wait. Am I in California? No, I was hunting with Joss…

“I don’t see a ring.”

“We’re getting it resized.”

The other person huffs out a disgruntled ‘whatever’ before exiting the room. There’s another squeeze to her hand. Abel’s thumb soothingly rubs over her knuckles. She tries to say his name, but her throat is tight. The best she can manage is a weak groan. “Nng.”

“Rowan?” Abel’s grip on her hand tightens. She begins to move, but winces as a stabbing pain shoots to her side. “Hey, take it easy,” he instructs gently, easing her back into bed.

“Aye aye captain.” Her eyes slowly flutter open. She smiles lazily at him. “Hey, sunshine.”

“How do you feel? Do you need anything? I can go get the nurse. Is your pillow-”

“Baby, slow down. I’m processing one question per minute right now,” she jokes, but her head does still feel like it’s spinning. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital. Y-you… you got-” Abel hiccups, his frown deepening.

“Hey, it’s okay-”

“It’s not okay!” He yells, his voice cracking. “You promised! You said you wouldn’t get hurt and you did! You-” he takes a shuddered breath before continuing. “You scared me to death.” His hair shields his face as he looks down at their joined hands.

“Abel…” He doesn’t move, except for the slight tremor in his shoulders. A teardrop lands on her hand. He’s crying. A bitter taste fills her mouth. He’s hurting and it’s her fault. She tries to think of something to say but she can’t think straight with that stupid beeping. Wait… that’s it! “Abel, do you hear that?”

“No,” he mumbles, too preoccupied with holding her hand to look at her.

“You don’t hear the beeping?”

He glances up, confused. “You mean the heart monitor?”

“Yeah. Do you hear it?”

“I hear it. So what?”

She gingerly moves her free hand to her chest and taps at her heart. “It means that this thing still works,” she smirks.

Abel let’s out something between a scoff and a laugh. But it’s enough to bring him out of his sorrow. “You’re an idiot,” he sniffles, wiping away his tears with his sleeve.

“But I’m your idiot.” She squeezes his hand in reassurance. “Also ‘idiot’ is a mean thing to call your fiancée.”

His eyes widen. “You were awake?”

“Barely. But I still heard it. So remind me, my oh so wonderful fiancé, how’d you propose? Did I know it was going to happen? How big of a diamond are we talking about here? I can’t quite remember on the account of the concussion,” she chuckles, wincing as pain shoots through her ribcage.

Smiling, Abel plays along. “It was a surprise. We talked about it beforehand, but you never knew when I was gonna pop the question. I finally asked during our romantic getaway in Mexico. And I went with a non-traditional moss agate ring. I thought it would suit you more.”

“Oo, did I cry?

“Like a baby.”

“Gross. I love it.”

Abel kisses the inside of her wrist. Then he moves up, placing soft pecks to each of her fingers with such reverence her heart does a flip. The heart monitor speeds up slightly. “I love you,” she breathes. “And I’m really glad you’re here.”

“So am I.” He brings her hand to his chest. She feels the steady thump beneath her palm. Gentle, yet strong. Just like him. “And I love you, Rowan Burke. More and more each day.”

—

In the morning when I wake And the sun is coming through Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness And you fill my head with you

Shall I write it in a letter? Shall I try to get it down? Oh, you fill my head with pieces Of a song I can’t get out

Can I be close to you?

[selfships-in-spanish]

UH YES HI HELLO CAN I GET ALL THREE ROBO BOYS AND ONA GETTING IT ON BC CONNOR, 60, AND RICHARD ?? WITH ONA ? FUCK YES, BRING ON ALL THE ROBO DICKS - filth anon 🍆

JFORGHFASD FILTH ANON!! I MISSED YOU AROUND HERE MY FELLOW SINNER. WELCOME BACK MY FRIEND!!!! But jesus fucking Christ, Ona is about to get thoroughly fucked by three very horny robots. RIP her pussy.

Also MILLION APOLOGIES for taking this long but the horny braincell didn’t want to cooperate. AT LAST! IT IS HERE! :D also a bazillion thanks to @tinmiss1939 for being such a sweetheart and helping me out when english also didn’t want to cooperate. I love you girl ❤️

But this is filth. Pure, unadulterated smut for your reading eyes :D enjoy!

 Whoever had the idea of making a field day for the police station as a fundraising with activities and such, was both a genius and a sadist. Especially in summer.

It was hot, you could hear the bugs chirping and people seeking the shadow of trees and tents if they were not engaging in any activity, cool drinks in hand. The water-gun fight was a godsend, helping those who were battling to cool down under the unforgiving sun.

But Connor thought it was absolute torture to be involved in the water-gun fight. Not for the fight per se, he actually loved spraying water directly into Detective Reed’s face, but because he had to fight against Detective Boix.

Detective Boix who is a complete drenched mess.

She’s laughing, ducking behind a barrel while another officer tries to soak her even more. Connor cannot remember the name, and right now he couldn’t care less. All his processing power is currently occupied with preconstructions about sneaking behind her, aim with an unmatched precision, soak that patch that is resisting so bravely, making her turn around so he can add even more water to her front and–

“If you continue with that train of thought, you’re going to self-combust.” Richard, the RK900 that was found, awakened and deployed on the DPD, spoke behind him. He was close too, and judging by his red LED, he wasn’t fairing better.

“The same could apply to you.”

“I still have more processing power.”

“All that mighty power goes south when dear Detective Boix is near.” another voice identical to Connor spoke on their left side. This was the RK800-60, the version generated to confront Connor at cyberlife tower. He liked going by the name of Killian, trying to distance himself from his double and his upgraded model. It gave him a sense of self.

Richard looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a glare that clearly indicated “that is utter bullshit and you’re not immune either”. He would never admit to his bratty predecessor that he, indeed, had certain malfunctions when the detective was near. He was designed to be superior than them, faster, stronger, more resilient…

Killian and Richard heard Connor produce some sort of noise, a mix between a whimper and grinding metal. They looked at him, a little bit concerned, and then at Connor’s hands gripping tightly the gun. If he added a little bit more pressure, he would break it. His eyes were glued ahead, watching Ona squealing and then laughing again when Tina aimed right at her butt.

Ona was wearing shorts that hugged her… assets rather nicely. Her legs were on display, honey skin glistening with water. If the three RK prototypes focused on the freckles and cute moles sprayed on them like constellations, nobody could blame them for that.

The sound of footsteps alerted them, but they were more focused at the view in front of them. Ona ducked another water spray and aimed her water gun, hitting Tina right on her stomach. The droplets moved down her skin, their eyes following the paths and even preconstructing where would they end up. The RKs knew the footsteps belonged to a male, judging by the way the person moved, and as their processors detected, they belonged to a coworker. A young male.

Without looking away, the three androids raised their water guns and with deadly accuracy, sprayed the poor soul who thought they could sneak on them. They heard a yell and colourful curses, their victim stomping away.

“Fuck you, you plastic pricks!” Gavin shook the water off his face, blinking rapidly as Richard’s jet hit him right in his eyes. Connor hit his torso, while Killian soaked the front of his jeans, leaving Gavin to feel very uncomfortable every time he took a step.

“That’s what you get for sneaking behind three state of the art androids, you fool.” Hank laughed while making his addition to the soaked mess that was Gavin. He aimed to his shoes, knowing they would do squeaky noises until they dried. He walked over the three androids, chuckling to himself. “I know better than to try to soak you three, but I must tell you that you look creepy as fuck right now. I suggest moving your asses and join the battle and stop ogling our darling detective over there.”

Connor gasped, slightly offended. “I am not ogling!” At least he had the decency to slightly blush.

“We are merely assuring Detective Boix is alright, should she need reinforcements.” Richard knew Hank was staring at him with his bushy brow raised and giving him the “oh really?” face. He had to try.

“Oh yeah? Then why not assist her now? She clearly needs help.” Hank nodded in Ona’s direction.

Ona ran away from the combined power of Chris and Tina, laughing and blindly shooting jets of water. Somehow, Chris managed to get a Super-Soaker model with way more water capacity; he could drench you in seconds.

“I guess I’ll have to be her knight in shi–” Killian took a few steps forward until Connor shoved past him, Richard sprinting behind him. He cursed and ran after them two, not wanting to be the last to arrive.

Hank looked at the three of them, crossing his arms and chuckling. “State of the art my ass.” He went back to the forgiving shade of a tree where Fowler and her wife and kids were chatting with Ben, who was being victim of the kid’s water guns. Hank saved him and sprayed them lightly, making them squeal.

Meanwhile, Ona managed to escape from Chris and Tina and took this opportunity to go refill her gun and take a breather. It had been a long time since the entire precinct had a good time. With the whole android revolution mess, the changes that came after and everything… it had been chaos, stressful. Everyone was on edge, everyone was confused and trying their best, so this was truly an opportunity to wind down and forget about the stress for a while.

She entered the visitors locker room behind the courtyard where they were having their fight.

Detroit’s high-school lended their facilities, the trackfield and locker rooms too, to the DPD’s fundraiser. Even the kids helped with some decorations and they proudly showed the artwork, making sure no jets of water hit the decorative paper garlands and banners. Richard would make sure the murals survived, he still didn’t know how to react with the fact that some kids decided to draw him, but he would protect it.

Ona hoped nobody was there; she just needed a little bit of quiet. She sighed blissfully, smiling as she felt the cool air caress her wet skin, and walked to one of the multiple sinks while opening the water-guns’s refill chamber. The sound of water splashing inside the empty plastic filled the locker room, the sounds of children giggling and screaming muffled and in the distance. She looked at herself in the mirror, letting out a soft laugh at her appearance. Her t-shirt was completely drenched and her white curls were glued to her forehead and face, some droplets falling down. She thanked whatever deity that was there that she decided to wear a bikini, knowing Chris and Tina had a massive competitive streak and would absolutely target Ona.

She did not hear the door of the visitors locker room opening and closing, too busy thinking about strategies to fight back against Chris and Tina. Once the water-gun was filled to the brim, Ona closed it and left it on top of the sink, stretching her arms and back like a cat, even letting out a sigh when some parts popped into place. She was suddenly hit by an ice-cold water jet on the last dry spot on her back.

Ona let out a loud shriek, jumping and bumping her hip on the sink. Colourful curses followed while she went for her water-gun, turning around to see Connor, Killian and Richard standing right there with Connor’s water-gun raised. He had the decency to look a little bit guilty about it. Ona left the gun back on the sink.

“Me cago en la leche, you scared me!” She had her hand on her chest, feeling her heart beating wildly while the other one cradled her bruised hip.

“Sorry Detective.” Connor lowered his arm and kicked at an imaginary stone. Ona marvelled at the completely human reactions he had sometimes.

“You are not sorry at all, Connor.” Killian crossed his arms, smugly smiling at Connot for being scolded.

Ona sighed, ignoring Killian and Connor’s guilty face for a second and noticing Richard way more silent than he already was.

“Everything okay there, Richard?”

He stood into attention, nodding, but all he could process was ‘wet shirt, bikini top, wet skin, freckles, wet translucent shirt…’.

“Yes Detective Boix, everything is functioning at its optimal—“

“He’s about to fry his CPU.” Killian stopped Richard mid sentence, trying to stifle a laugh at Richard’s murderous expression thrown at him.

“What?” Ona gasped, stopping whatever action Richard may have done. She ran to his side, carefully grasping his uniform jacket. “Oh my God Richard, did something happen? Did water get in someway? Do we need to take you to a Cyberlife technician? If it’s this bad we need to take you to one.” Ona went on and on, alarmed at the led spinning violently red.

The three androids internally cooed at her, her distress making them feel appreciated. Richard tried to say something but all his processing power was focused on to not accidentally overheat and the wet white t-shirt that clung to her snugly, not leaving anything to the imagination. Now that she was closer, he could see her glistening skin, feel the warmth of her body, and he honestly was only a good little android trying so hard to be a good little android.

Killian wasn’t a good little boy scout like Connor or Richard. He was a handsome devil and he knew it. He approached them and stood right behind Ona. Grinning, he let his lips brush her ear as he spoke.

“This is solely because Mr. ‘Faster, Stronger and more Resilient’ is having his processing power go south.”

Killian made Ona jump and gasp as he tugged her t-shirt back, tightening and gluing itself on her body. Her bikini top pattern became more apparent and Richard let out a soft frustrated sound, raising his hands but not daring to touch yet. Killian chuckled, sending pleasant shivers down Ona’s spine.

“You have been a bad girl, Detective,” Killian sneaked a hand around her body, exploring her belly and toying with the hem of her shorts. “A bad, bad girl, teasing us three with such indecorous clothing.” Killian knew it was a very cheesy line, but Ona’s sharp intake of air made him grin, knowing she was getting on with the program.

On the corner of his eye, Killian saw Connor silently move, walking to the visitors locker room entrance and locking the front door. The click of the lock felt as if a rubber band snapped. Richard dropped the plastic gun to the floor and grasped her face in his big hands, pulling her to his lips. Ona’s little moans were engulfed by Richard, her hands desperately holding onto him on his passionate onslaught.

Richard knew humans needed to breathe and Ona was not an exception. He let go of her lips, feeling her pants on his wet ones. Killian wasted no time, he let go of her to turn her head to him, crashing his lips into hers hard. He was demanding, hungry, needy, desperate, and Ona couldn’t help but be consumed by the pure lust he emanated.

Her moans fueled him further, his hands touching and grabbing all the flesh he could. Ona felt Richard go to his knees, his warmth disappearing momentarily. He unfastened her trousers and pulled them down, looking up in time to see Killian give her a moment to breathe. She looked down and whimpered, her blown pupils swallowing her green irises. Richard was a sight to behold, all disheveled and visibly affected, opposite to his usual composed and perfect self.

Connor sat down on the bench close to them, enjoying the show in front of him, for now. Killian was always impatient, wanting to go quick and dirty, while Richard wanted to take all the time in the world to make sure Ona wouldn’t be able to even lift a finger. He was patient, alright, but her heaving chest and arched back was bewitching him.

Maybe he accidentally projected some of that eagerness to join in the fun, because Killian looked right at him while leaving a sloppy trail of kisses on her neck, perfect teeth nipping the soft skin. Connor frowned, not entirely happy with that.

“Don’t leave marks, Killian. At least not on visible places.” Killian groaned, upset that Connor discovered his intentions. He loved to mark her up and let everyone know she was his, to see her flesh react to his actions. It was such a treat to hear her sweet moans.

“Party pooper…” Ona could feel Killian’s whispered words on her neck, his tongue following after.

Richard busied himself with her thighs, kissing the droplets away and following the pattern of freckles on her skin. He took one of her legs and lifted it gently, placing it down on his shoulder. He left a trail of more kisses and soft brushing of lips, raising goosebumps on its wake. Richard’s hands traveled up until he found the strings of the bikini bottoms, toying with them. He decided to leave them on, for now.

Ona’s leg trembled, followed by a whimper, and Richard decided it was time to do what every single biocomponent was begging him to. Slowly he traced a finger on the bikini hem, travelling up and down until he hooked it and pulled the fabric to the side, just enough for him to see what he was looking for.

She was a soaked mess, her juices dripping out of her. Richard licked his lips in anticipation.

A soft mewl tore itself out of Ona’s mouth, her hands going immediately to Richard’s head and gripping his hair tightly, the moment Richard’s tongue shyly lapped her up. He gave kitten licks, enjoying her squirming and trembling thighs, and pleasedly sighed when he buried his face between her legs. He loved to be surrounded by her warmth, her scent, her taste… and to pull the most lovely sounds from her lips. Richard decided he could be bolder, lick a stripe up and busy himself with her clit that was begging him for attention. The response was immediate. Ona moaned loudly, a curse following after as the hands tightened their hold and pressed him even closer to her.

Connor loved watching Ona get eaten out by Richard. He was meticulous, he always gave everything to it and left Ona an absolute mess. But her fucked out expression was a treat. He could feel himself constricted in his clothes, his biocomponents begging for fresh, cold air. He could wait. Okay, scratch that, he couldn’t, her moan made that patience fly out the window.

The sound of Connor’s belt buckle being undone made Ona look to the side, letting out a soft mewl when she saw Connor touching himself while focusing all his attention on her. It felt exhilarating, to have these three gorgeous, brilliant men (who happened to be the most advanced prototype androids ever made) having their way with her and enjoying every damn second of it. Killian didn’t like how her attention was on Connor, and he made sure she knew by biting her exposed neck. Connor’s growl made Ona wetter, which in turn made Richard let out a pleased groan at the feel of her juices coating his mouth and chin.

“I said no visible marks, Killian.”

“Oh c’mon, don’t deny how much it turns you on to see everyone look at you green with envy.”

“I don’t like to cause distress to the Detective.” Connor stopped his hand, a cutting edge on his words.

Richard had enough of his predecessors’ bickering. With regret, he tore himself apart from her sopping wet cunt and smoothly stood up. He could hear Ona mutter a breathy curse at the sight of his glistening mouth, his tongue unconsciously swiping over his lips. Killian knew he got himself in trouble judging by the angry frown the RK900 unit sported. Richard shoved him away, making him release the detective’s body so he could sit her next to Connor. Reaching behind him, he took out his issued handcuffs.

“You are being a brat,” Richard grabbed him by his shirt and shoved him to the bench behind them. “On the floor. Now.” One would be wise to not question Richard, even less when he was horny.

Killian thought about spitting a retort, but Richard’s angry scowl made him rethink his life choices. He obeyed, sitting down.

“Hands behind your back.” Killian put them and pitifully whined when Richard blocked his perfect view of Connor making Ona sit on his lap after getting rid of Ona’s shorts. He had the beautiful sight of her ass in front of him, full and plump.

Connor knew how much he liked it, so after Richard finished cuffing him to the iron bench leg, Connor grabbed a handful and squeezed, making her whimper. Killian groaned, really wanting to do that himself.

“Don’t you dare break them.” Richard warned him as he went next to Ona and Connor.

Connor busied himself with peppering her neck with soft kisses as he played with her ass, grabbing her with both hands so he could grind his cock up at the same time he pushed her down. Ona wrapped her arms around his neck and began moving on her own, pressing down desperately, needing more. But Connor wasn’t going to move along soon, loving the feel of her bikini bottom’s fabric on his cock, so she had to take matters into her hands. Literally. With an annoyed grunt, Ona unglued herself from Connor and grabbed his cock, positioning it right where she wanted it. With her other hand she pushed aside the slippery fabric of her bikini and sank herself down. Connor moaned out loud, his cock twitching at the burning sensation engulfing him.

The three androids loved when Ona rode them. She took what she wanted, riding them with wild abandon. And right now Connor let himself be used. She had been played with by them, teased, edged, and now she really, really needed to have her brains fucked out. Connor helped her when he was able to gather his wits, thrusting up at the same time she went down. That made her moan out loud, a breathy “fuck yes” whispered out right after.

The sight was maddening for Killian. He had the most perfect view right in front of him, he could see the jiggle of her ass as Connor pounded into her, Connor’s cock disappear in that wonderful tight heat… he felt himself throb inside his trousers, probably staining the front of his dark jeans. Ona let Connor take the pace now, falling to his chest and taking what he had to offer. She turned her head, hair plastered on her forehead, to Richard. Her coy smile invited him to join them both. And he couldn’t refuse, not when that mouth was so tempting and open, letting the three of them know how much she was enjoying it.

Richard unbuckled his belt and lowered his trousers enough to free his aching cock. Ona was both surprised and pleased that Richard decided to forgo underwear today. Richard stood astride the bench, feeling Ona’s warm breath on the exposed tip. She let her tongue playfully lick the tip, using the rocking motion of Connor’s hips to let her tongue taste more of him.

Connor decided to slow down a bit, to grab her hips and pull her down so he could slowly grind up to her. Ona moaned softly, closing her eyes at the feel of Connor hitting all the right places. The feel of her plush lips kissing and and brushing along Richard’s cock made him mutter a curse, biting his lips and using all his willpower to not thrust into her mouth. Ona liked to tease, the three of them knew it all too well, and now it was Richard’s time to suffer it. She slowly wrapped her lips around the tip, applying the lightest of suctions, while her tongue shyly curled around it. Connor kept moving, watching enraptured as Ona took more of Richard’s cock inside her mouth. Richard was made to be bigger, more intimidating, and their designers made sure every part of him matched. So it was always a wonder how Ona managed to take him all in.

Killian’s fingers twitched, itching to just break the handcuffs and join them. He would show them. He would teach them how to thoroughly debauch her and—

“Don’t you even think about it, RK800-60”. Richard’s growl made him freeze, like a deer in headlights.

Connor’s eyes had a dangerous glint too, watching Killian like a hawk. But while Richard was distracted, Connor took that opportunity to tear Ona away from Richard’s cock with a wet pop and take off her soaked t-shirt. He was hypnotized by the way her breasts bounced, and he needed to see them without any clothing in the way. Connor pushed aside the bikini top, and he cursed when he saw the perky nipples begging him for attention. But what made him lose it was the visible tan line. It fascinated the three androids, but it was Connor’s weakness.

A hand on Ona’s back of the head reminded her of the aching need in front of her, and while Connor was still distracted, she inched closer to take Richard back inside her mouth. She tore away one of her hands holding her in place to grab whatever was closest to her hand and urge Richard to take what he wanted. She could take it, and right now? She needed it.

Richard could never deny her anything, and he began moving his hips to a comfortable rhythm until her hand tugged at him again. Connor regained his senses and started moving again, bouncing her on his lap while his hands squeezed her breasts. But his hands weren’t enough, he needed more, so he bent until his lips brushed her skin, kissing and nipping the tan line until his mouth engulfed a nipple. Ona moaned around Richard’s cock, and Connor could feel her walls tightening on his. By the mess Ona was making between her legs, Connor knew she was close, and judging by the way Richard’s hips stuttered on his perfect rhythm, he needed more than her mouth. Connor sneaked a hand between them, his thumb rubbing her slippery clit. The reaction was immediate.

Ona arched her back, making Richard’s cock slip out of her mouth. She moaned without a care, rocking her hips. Connor kept playing with her nipples and found himself with a mouth full of it, making him groan pleasedly, when Ona wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him closer, lost in the onslaught of pleasure Connor’s thumb was making her feel. Thank God he didn’t need to breathe.

Connor kept snapping his hips up, but he was losing his perfect rhythm as he felt his own orgasm approaching. It felt as if every single biocomponent was on fire, burning with electricity that pooled down his groin. Connor chased that euphoric sensation, the slapping of skin against skin echoing inside the locker room and only arousing him more. Ona kept moaning his name as she felt herself be close, bouncing on his lap. Connor knew by the way Ona said his name, breathless and as if she was devoting herself to him, that he could not stop now.

Ona cried out one last time, her nails digging into Connor’s skin as she went still, feeling herself dissolve into a pleasured puddle. Connor followed her, letting go of her nipple and groaning into her feverish skin, feeling her squeeze his cock and milking him dry as he buried himself deep inside her, moaning a mixture of curse words and her name. Their panting felt loud in the now quiet locker room. Connor searched for her lips, whispering a soft “I love you” just before he kissed her reply away, a content and sated feeling washing over him at her “I love you too”.

Killian softly cursed at the mess that trickled down her thighs, the sight right in front of him, as Richard helped her get up after letting her bask in the afterglow on Connor’s arms. Still dazed, Ona let herself be guided by Richard’s hands, using him as support as her legs were threatening to give out. Richard softly kissed her lips, so sweetly at first, just a chaste press where he enjoyed the velvety feel of her lips on his. He kept kissing her slowly, taking her breath away by the passion behind every swipe of his tongue, every nibble. The hand that was on her back slowly made its way down, caressing the naked flesh until Richard squeezed her buttock, making her giggle and prompting her to lift her leg up. Richard’s hand caressed her flesh and held the leg in place while he kept kissing her.

“You are just plain cruel. Both of you.” Killian kept staring, hypnotised. He licked his lips, squeezing his bound fists in frustration. Richard made sure Killian could perfectly see the globs of cum trailing down Ona’s thigh, and like the saucy little minx she was, Ona spread her cheek further, knowing it would only drive Killian up the wall even more. He could see her pleased smirk. “So fucking cruel.”

“You deserve it for being a brat.” Connor spoke from the bench, already tidying himself up and tucking his now soft cock inside his pants. He got up and sat down on the bench Killian was cuffed to. “And for that, you only get to watch.”

“Oh, c’mon! You have to be kidding me!” in his frustration he tugged against Richard’s handcuffs again, which made Connor lean in and coldly warn him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. If this is cruel for you, we haven’t even started then.”

Killian swallowed hard at Connor’s phrasing—he didn’t need to swallow at all he was an android for fuck’s sake! But Connor’s angry frown, the freezing cold stare he gave him… Richard was down right terrifying, but Connor knew how to exactly exploit your weaknesses, and right now Killian was his target. Connor distracted him long enough so Killian didn’t see Richard hauling Ona up and walking them to the nearest locker, resting her back on the cold metal. Her pleased groan as Richard filled her echoed around the locker room. Richard chose to undo a few buttons of his shirt earlier and Ona took that opportunity to sneak one of her hands under the layers of clothing Richard wore like armor.

Richard set a fast pace, already too pent up to take it slow. Killian could only watch and listen. The absolutely filthy but arousing squelching sounds of her filled up cunt only served to rile him up further. Ona opened her eyes, her gaze fixed on Killian’s one as she rested her head against Richard’s neck, panting against his exposed skin and sending pleasured shivers down his spine. Killian unconsciously mimicked her, opening slightly his mouth too to help his biocomponents cool down as he panted. After a perfectly spot on thrust from Richard, Ona’s eyes closed as she moaned loudly, biting his skin to quiet herself down. She kissed the abused flesh, apologising for being harsh, but it spurred Richard on, pressing her harder against the locker and thrusting into her with wild abandon. Ona’s legs squeezed his body, a dead give-away of how she was close again. The three androids always made sure to take advantage of Ona being multiorgasmic, and right now it wasn’t an exception. Richard kept pistoning in and out, whispering to her ear all the praises he could think of, and letting gravity help him in filling Ona up. Richard sneaked a hand between them, much like Connor did earlier, and rubbed his fingers against her clit in the same rhythm his hips were snapping into her.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck– I’m so close, so close!” Ona was feeling light-headed, drunk with pleasure. Her nails dug into his jacket hard enough for Richard’s sensors to feel the pressure, mewling softly into his skin, as her other hand gripped his short hair and tugged. That made Richard let out a pleasured grunt as he shoved harder his hips against hers.

Richard jerked his hips a few more times until he went completely still, pressing her body against the locker with his body. He let out a low groan, his big hands squeezing her heated flesh, as Ona came around him, crying out his name. She could feel Richard’s cock pulse inside her, filling her up to the brim and adding more to the mess left by Connor. It was sinfully perfect.

Ona sighed, content and sated. Richard carefully let her down, not missing his chance to run his hands up her legs and caress her ass, holding her close to him when her legs trembled. She couldn’t help but to snicker, resting her sweaty face on Richard’s chest, not believing they sneaked off to have some sort of a sex-marathon in the middle of work hours.

Honestly, it wasn’t the first time it happened. But it still made Ona feel a little bit guilty. Just a little bit.

“Are you alright?” Richard whispered in her ear, kissing her neck as he still held her in his arms.

“My legs feel like jello. And I’m sticky.” Ona didn’t want to look down. “And I need to clean up ASAP.”

Connor and Richard looked at each other, an idea already forming in their heads. They both glanced at Killian, who stared at them back. That wasn’t going to end well for Killian and he knew it. When those two played masterminds and he was the victim, it wasn’t fun. Usually.

“I think someone may be able to help you with the cleaning.” Connor stood up, dusting off his clothes.

“After all, you have been obedient. You deserve a reward.” Richard kept kissing her shoulders, following the trails of freckles.

“Let’s put that tongue to good use, shall we?”

Richard helped Ona walk over Killian, who was eagerly awaiting her with his mouth slightly open and eyes glued to Richard’s cum trickling down her thighs. Killian licked his lips, ready to blow her mind with his devilish tongue. He unconsciously tugged at the handcuffs.

He’d never say it out loud but he fucking loved this.

When Hank finds them later, going on their merry way to join the water-gun fight once again, he completely ignores the red mark on Ona’s neck, having an idea of why they disappeared for so long. Also, Richard forgot to button up the last button of his shirt.

Hank snorted, taking a sip of his beer. Kids. Let them have their fun.

[helheimraptor]

Such a dream [Elijah Kamski x Reader]

Word Count: 1523

Warnings: A little bit of smut, it hints at it definitely but it isn’t explicit.

Background: The first bit is from my story, this original version of the first part was more explicit but I made it more family friendly and then I decided to continue it and base it slightly off of things i’ve seen about bilingual characters and how adorable they are and also R.E.M from Ariana Grande is a great song so this is how this came to life. Enjoy?  

Extra: If you request it I can make something like this for other characters from DBH as well because I feel like that would be cool, or I can do head-cannons with this theme? Idk Request things for me to write pls. Also Unedited kinda.

"Anna, I need to talk to you for a few minutes, got some time?" Elijah asks me.

I look from Elijah to the door and back to Elijah and nod as he smiles and takes a seat.

I go to take a seat opposite him but he stops me and sits me down on his legs.

I gasp at the sudden movement and he chuckles.

"So, you are the famous deviant hunter, I've heard about you and honestly you are quite remarkable," Elijah praises.

"Why thank you," I reply smiling.

"Now the reason I wanted to keep you back was because I wanted to talk to you about this deviant situation you had last night," Elijah says softly.

His voice sends shivers down my spine as he lowers his voice.

Elijah brushes my hair behind my left ear, revealing my piercings which he admires.

"What do you want to talk about in referral to that?" I question.

"I wanted to ask about who do you think could possibly be helping that android," Elijah says.

"Well there was a deviant that we interviewed a few months back that was sent to the dumpster, but it could possibly be a revenge mission," I trail.

"Hmm," Elijah says as he remains silent.

"There were some deviants at the strip club in town that Connor didn't shoot so it could also be them getting revenge on me for some reason, but that wouldn't make sense," I explain.

Elijah looks at my collar bones that are poking through the top of my black shirt.

"Quite possibly, but that wouldn't make much sense as you said," Elijah says as his eyes slowly lower down my body, taking in the features of my body that are present with what I am wearing.

I have my signature tight black t-shirt on that is tucked into my navy blue police pants with my belt around my waist - which contains my gun, radio, phone, keys, badge and I.D - my shirt hugs my features tightly, which means my breasts, waist and stomach are on show, but through fabric. My collar bones stick out the neckline of my shirt which almost every guy looks at immediately.

"Yeah, so I'm not sure who else would have been involved, unless it could be someone who was helping one of the deviants that I took down within the past few months," I mention.

"That could be a possibility," Elijah says as he plays with my long blonde hair.

I let Elijah play with my hair because I don't really mind when people do it as I don't feel it that much.

"I probably should get back to the precinct as Hank and Connor will be wondering where I am," I say quietly and quickly.

"Of course, sorry to keep you so long," Elijah says as I stand up.

"Oh don't worry about it, thanks for having me and helping me with my deviant problem, if you ever need or want to talk to me here's my number and address," I say handing Elijah a piece of paper that I scribbled down my number and address on.

"Thanks," Elijah says smiling. "I'll stop by tomorrow if you want help fixing your place."

"That'd be great, I'll see you tomorrow then," I say leaving the building.

"Bye."

I exit Elijah's house and walk to Hank's car where both the guys are still waiting. I hurry to the car, apologising profusely as I get into the front seat.

"He likes you," Hank says as we drive off.

"Yeah obviously, he was checking me out, anyway I'm so sorry I took so long guys," I say looking behind me at Connor and smiling.

"Don't stress."

I relax at those two words coming from Hank's mouth and I slump back into my seat, listening to the music playing on the radio, hearing Hank care about me and tell me not to stress is one of the only things that gets me to relax because Hank is so asshole-ish all the time.

•••••••••

6 months later

The loud music of the party was getting a bit overwhelming as I wander around trying to find my boyfriend.

My eyes scan the crowd a couple times my eyes locking with co-workers who try to flirt with me. Eventually my eyes lock with the man I was trying to find, I approach him with a soft smile.

"Biggest party here in Detroit at this time of year," my boyfriend says as he wraps an arm around my shoulders when I stand next to him.

"Just to say the least," I chirp up with a smile as I look up at him.

"How nice of you to turn up."

"You know I could never miss an opportunity like this," I say kissing his lips quickly.

"Kamski! Richards!" I hear a voice shout from behind us.

Both Elijah and I turn around to see Hank and Connor behind us, both dressed up nicely.

"Ah if it isn't Lieutenant Anderson and his partner Connor, lovely to see you boys," I say giving both of them a hug, feeling Elijah's eyes burn into the back of my head.

"Lovely to see you too, it's been a while," Hank says as him and Connor shake Elijah's hand.

"Yeah, about a month i'd say," I say returning to Elijah's side.

"A month and five days to be exact," Connor says with a small smile.

Hank, Elijah and I all giggle at Connor's comment as Chloe comes around with drinks, which I gratefully accept.

"Wait so how long have you two been, y'know," Hank asks me and Elijah.

"Uh, what, about like 5 months?" I say looking up at Elijah.

"Yeah, just after the revolution ended," Elijah adds.

Elijah's hand drops from my shoulders down to rest on my hip as he pulls me closer to him.

"I'm gonna catch up with Hank and Connor for a bit okay? I'll be back soon," I say giving Elijah a kiss before walking to a quiet part of the room with Hank and Connor.

"You two seem pretty lovestruck," Hank comments as we sit down, looking out over the barren landscape.

"heh, you could say that."

I look over to Elijah who is talking to his guests, greeting them and making sure they get drinks and food.

"Anna, over here," Hank jokes while clicking in my face.

I zone back into reality and smile at the two boys in front of me.

"So what's been happening with you guys?" I ask.

Hank and Connor explain what has been happening in their life at the moment while I listen and think about how I should join the Police Force again.

"I'm thinking of joining the force again, should I?" I ask Hank specifically.

"Of course, we'd love to have you back!" Hank says happily.

I take a glance over at Elijah who is talking with some high school friends of his, making now the perfect time to embarrass him.

"I'll be back in a sec," I say standing up, adjusting my outfit which is a black jumpsuit with leg slits and black heels, my hair in it's classic high ponytail.

I walk over to Elijah and his group of friends, my hand resting on his broad shoulder, I lean down to his ear and open my mouth as I whisper something into his ear.

"Dois-je attendre dans la chambre, mon amour?" [Shall I go wait in the bedroom, my love?]

Elijah's face goes bright red as he looks up at me and gets a face full of breast.

Elijah turns to face his mates and looks down at his lap, face extremely red.

"So what's the answer sweetheart?" I whisper again.

Elijah starts to fiddle with his hands now before turning to me and kissing me passionately.

Elijah's friends all murmur something before one starts to cheer him on, I pull away quickly and walk over to his friend that was cheering very quickly.

"You wanna do that again? Because I am not afraid to kick you out, neither is Lij, so you can test your luck buddy or leave now and save yourself some embarrassment," I say sternly.

I return to Elijah and sit on the arm of the chair he is sitting on, while his arm moves behind me and rests on my hip again.

"Tu es un tel rêve pour moi," Elijah whispers back sensually. [you're such a dream to me]

"Shall we continue this conversation later then?" I question in referral to Elijah's friends and his horniness at the moment.

"Yes."

After everyone has left Elijah comes up from behind me and hugs me and kisses my neck.

"You know how to treat it," I softly hum as Elijah carries me to his bedroom.

Elijah puts me down at the entrance to his bedroom and I turn around, stopping him from going anywhere as I put my hands on his chest, slowly running them downwards.

"Boy you're such a dream to me," I sing innocently.

Elijah lets out a soft moan as I continue to sing.

"I watch them other girls when they come and bug you," I sing, cocking my head slightly, letting my ponytail fall to the side as Elijah kisses me softly, pushing me onto the bed.

Boy you're such a dream, if you can believe babe, boy you're such a dream to me.

[staystrange]

On Sunday, December 2, 2018 at 7:00 PM, I had the honor of being at the final performance (for now) of Two-Player Game at Feinstein’s/54 Below!! I had the most magical and wonderful time hearing songs that mean so much to me performed live by people whom I look up to so much. Here are some of the many photos I took throughout the night, and if you’d like to hear some of my favorite moments and memories, check under the cut : )

• My dinner reservation was at 5:00 PM, so I got to 54 Below right before it opened. Honestly, since it was my first time there, I was just in happy shock the entire time, and there were still two hours to go before the show. • Talia Suskauer was sitting in the booth not far behind my table. • Will Roland was the special guest at the performance I went to. He walked in right at 7:00 with Jen Tepper and his fiancée, Steph Wessels, and sat in the booth in the back right in the center. Mike Faist also sat with them, which is a nice coincidence because I was at his final performance as Connor Murphy in Dear Evan Hansen back in May!! • Katlyn Carlson was also there, but I think she sat on the other side of the room from where I was. • SETLIST: Broadway, Here I Come! Two-Player Game I Love Play Rehearsal Tiny Short Little Song The Answer The Vagabond Song of the Brown Buffalo Loser Geek Whatever (performed by Will Roland) Michael in the Bathroom The Goodbye Song Kaboom • I was an emotional mess during the majority of the songs. I teared up right from the beginning of Broadway, Here I Come! and I’m pretty sure George looked right at me when he sang “don’t you cry, don’t you cry,” though I could have been imagining it. • There was a running joke throughout the show about Bernadette Peters being George’s understudy for Two-Player Game. It got even better towards the end because someone in the audience said she used to live a floor below Bernadette Peters. • Despite (most likely) everyone in the room knowing exactly what Be More Chill is, Joe still fully explained what it was before starting Two-Player Game. • During Two-Player Game, Will Roland was doing the choreography from his seat and it was honestly the best thing I have ever witnessed. • When George sang “is it really true, I’m your faworite person” while sitting on the piano bench next to Joe, he did a bunch of vocal runs after “person” and played a few notes on the piano. There was a long pause before Joe told him to never touch his piano again and George just ran away apologizing. • Before I Love Play Rehearsal, Joe and George asked the audience what we thought they were like in high school. At one point, something someone said led to George dramatically walking out the doors with Joe playing a perfectly dramatic accompaniment on piano. • During the “I also have a touch of ADD” part of I Love Play Rehearsal, George took someone’s phone from the audience and admired their phone case. • Instead of mentioning his performance as Rum Tum Tugger in Cats during I Love Play Rehearsal like on the album, George said that his first role was a piece of Pumba’s poop in The Lion King. If any of you guys saw his Instagram story the next day, this is the explanation behind that. • When George made the fake fart noise during I Love Play Rehearsal, he was like, “Ew, Joe! People are eating!” • Since I knew that Tiny Short Little Song was the next song, it was hilarious to hear Joe and George exaggerate about how it was such a big deal for George to perform it. • I was a bit disappointed that they didn’t play Andy’s Song since it’s one of my favorites on the album and I was looking forward to seeing the kazoo part live, but it was worth it to get to hear The Answer. That song means the world to me, and I definitely teared up during it. When I bought my tickets, I’d hoped that maybe they’d perform it because it was the last show for a while, but I never thought they actually would. I will forever be grateful for this performance. • I had a fantastic view of George playing the drums during The Vagabond, and it was so awesome to watch. He’s incredible, and that song is even more epic live. • Let me just say that there is no experience quite like shouting “food, booze, drugs, guns, and radical politics” along with an entire room of people, including a bunch of people you look up to. • I didn’t even notice when Will Roland walked right past me to get to the stage for his performance because I was so focused on George and Joe, but he did. • Will was wearing the Apocalypse of the Damned shirt that someone made for him during the Be More Chill Off-Broadway run. Also, he and George were both wearing Be More Chill pill-shaped pins on their jackets. • When Will was onstage, he joked that he’d never performed on the 54 Below stage before and wanted to see what it was like. He also jokingly hit one of the cymbals on the drumset. • This was Will’s fifth Two-Player Game performance. • As they were introducing Will’s performance, Will suggested he sing a song from Be More Chill, but “one that I actually know, not like Britton’s solo in Upgrade, I don’t know that one” (it was hilarious). • The best part was when Will was like “should we make it” (pause) “a thREE-PLAYER GAME?” with George and Joe joining in. • When I was speculating about what song Will would sing, I was hoping it would be Flesh and Bone (my favorite Joe Iconis song and one that he’s performed in the past), but I figured it would probably be Loser Geek Whatever since the studio version had just been released a few days earlier. My other thought was Amphibian, but I knew that was a long shot. • George played the drums during Loser Geek Whatever. It was fantastic. • Will walked right past me again when he walked off the stage, and I noticed this time, but Joe started playing Michael in the Bathroom as Will was walking by and I could not decide what the heck to focus on because so much was happening at once. I literally gasped even though I knew what song was next. • I don’t remember if the lyrics to Michael in the Bathroom changed for Off-Broadway, but George sang “there’s nothing else clearer” instead of “the present is clear” for this performance. • Michael in the Bathroom never gets old. • During the bridge part (”knock, knock, knock, knock”) I could definitely hear Will saying the spoken parts along with Joe and George. • After Michael in the Bathroom, Joe mentioned the cast members that will make their Broadway debuts with Be More Chill (Lauren Marcus, Katlyn Carlson, and Jason Sweettooth Williams), and he jokingly included Will Roland, even though we all know that this isn’t his first Broadway show. • The Goodbye Song was beautiful. • They said that The Goodbye Song was the last song, and for a second I thought they were cutting Kaboom. They weren’t. It was their encore. • Kaboom means the world to me, so getting to hear it live was so special. • Talia Suskauer harmonized a bit toward the end of Kaboom. • I asked Jen Tepper to sign my Two-Player Game liner notes and she was so excited when she saw them!! I thanked her for all of her work on Be More Chill and 54 Below and everything she does, and she was so sweet. She even referenced the Bernadette Peters joke and complimented my glasses!! • I’ve met George a couple times before (at the Be More Chill stagedoor and at the BCEFA Flea Market), but this was my first time meeting Joe. I asked them if they were okay with hugs, and they both said yes, so I hugged them both and they thanked me for coming to the show, which was so kind of them because really it was me who wanted to thank them. George had already signed my Two-Player Game CD liner notes at the Flea Market (long before I knew I was going to this show) so I asked Joe to sign them. I also told him that he’s one of my biggest writing inspirations and that it was an honor to see him live and he was so sweet and asked me about what kind of stuff I write, which really meant a lot to me. He also complimented my glasses!! • Overall, I had the most magical time and I could not stop smiling the entire night!! If you ever get the opportunity to go to a Two-Player Game show in the future, don’t pass it up. It’s so worth it, and I will forever be grateful that I got to go : ) • Photos: outside before the show, my view before the show started, Two-Player Game, Tiny Short Little Song, The Answer, Will and George in between songs, Loser Geek Whatever, Joe and George hugging in between songs, Kaboom, and me with George and Joe.

[torontoarenas]

rapid-fire takes on every NHL free agent signing > $1.5M

$1.5M is an arbitrary cut-off, but I figure that anything less than that can be buried in the minors without too much difficulty. in other words, if you’re signing a guy for less than $1.5M, you clearly don’t expect big things from them. also, these signings all took place on July 1, another arbitrary cut-off. here are my takes, in alphabetical order by surname:

Noel Acciari (3 years, $1.667M AAV with Florida)

not sure why they felt the need to give a three-year term to a depth forward (and not a particularly good one at that), but the low cost means that won’t be a huge problem

Sebastian Aho (5 years, $8.454M AAV with Montreal)

the Habs did an incredible job signing one of the sport’s premier young talents to a bargain of a contract. it’s a shame, then, that the contract in question was in the form of an offer sheet, which means it will be a farcically easy decision for Carolina to match it and retain Aho’s services. nonetheless, I’d like to sincerely thank Montreal for signing the first offer sheet since February 2013 and, in doing so, making this off-season slightly more interesting.

Pierre-Édouard Bellemare (2 years, $1.8M AAV with Colorado)

my initial reaction when I heard about this signing was: “why?” but his numbers since leaving Philadelphia have actually been pretty decent, so I don’t mind it for the Avs.

Jordie Benn (2 years, $2M AAV with Vancouver)

doesn’t really move the needle, but he’s probably better than whoever the hell else the Canucks would’ve played in his stead, so whatever.

Sergei Bobrovsky (7 years, $10M AAV with Florida)

as a rule, DO NOT GIVE GOALIES THIS MUCH TERM OR SALARY, IT IS NOT WORTH IT. especially if that goalie turns 31 before the start of the first season of seven. this contract will likely be an albatross well before the halfway point, if not immediately. it truly cannot be overstated how inadvisable this contract is.

Alex Chiasson (2 years, $2.15M AAV with Edmonton)

this is another contract to which a shrug, followed by the words “hey, sure, why not,” would be a fair response.

Brett Connolly (4 years, $3.25M AAV with Florida)

he’s a decent player, but the four-year term is a bit iffy. I’m not entirely sure what the Panthers think they’re doing, although maybe I’m mistaken in assuming that Dale Tallon thinks.

Joonas Donskoi (4 years, $3.9M AAV with Colorado)

I really like this deal, but the fact that this was arguably the best-value UFA signing today says a lot about (1) the calibre of the players who tend make it to unrestricted free agency in first place; (2) GMs’ absurd overvaluing of depth players; and (3) the general lack of excitement in off-season transactions. regardless, this was a shrewd move.

Matt Duchene (7 years, $8 AAV with Nashville)

to be sure, the Predators overpaid for him, but not by as much as I thought they would, so ... congrats? he doesn’t really drive play & the main reason he scored more in 2018-19 than his career average (62 points per 82 games) was an unsustainably high shooting percentage. he’ll be a productive player for most of the contract, but it’s still a bit rich for my blood.

Valtteri Filppula (2 years, $3M AAV with Detroit)

unsurprisingly, an old guy who has been bad for several years now continued to be quite bad last season, except for the fact that he scored a few more goals than he usually does. for some reason, Detroit deemed that to be a good enough reason to give him a two-year contract. however, the Red Wings aren’t likely to be competitive in the next two seasons anyway, so it probably doesn’t matter.

Ron Hainsey (1 year, $3.5M with Ottawa)

well, the Senators needed to overpay somebody to get to the salary cap floor, so it literally might as well be Ron Hainsey. he’s terrible at this point, but so are the Ottawa Senators, making his contract irrelevant. they could’ve given him $10M for all the difference it would make.

Ryan Hartman (2 years, $1.9M AAV with Minnesota)

[see: Alex Chiasson]

Garnet Hathaway (4 years, $1.5M AAV with Washington)

four years? for whom now???

Keith Kinkaid (1 year, $1.75M with Montreal)

he’s not a good goalie, but if he were, he’d probably be making more money. I dunno what to tell ya.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anders Lee (7 years, $7M AAV with NY Islanders)

ahh, a classic case of “overpaying to retain a guy in order to save face after striking out on better free agents.” the Islanders are now closer to the cap than they were last year, they haven’t improved at all, and they weren’t even that good to begin with. folks, you just love to see it.

Robin Lehner (1 year, $5M with Chicago)

the contract itself is fair value, but what’s puzzling is the team that signed it. I talked about this earlier, but why is it Chicago’s goal to make the playoffs next year? it’s not gonna turn back the clock. the 2013 versions of their core players are never coming back, so they’re just delaying their rebuild for no good reason.

Timo Meier (4 years, $6M AAV with San Jose)

a very team-friendly deal. what’s not to like?

Petr Mrazek (2 years, $3.125M AAV with Carolina)

I have no idea if Mrazek is going to be any good next year, but it’s worth a shot.

Ryan Murray (2 years, $4.6M AAV with Columbus)

I hadn’t actually heard about this signing until I started writing this post, and I’m too tired to do any research. I was under the impression that Ryan Murray isn’t very good, but I’m not going to say any more than that in case I’m wrong.

Tyler Myers (5 years, $6M AAV with Vancouver)

a truly horrendous contract. to put it simply, Myers is replacement-level. I shouldn’t need to tell you not to give thirty million dollars to replacement-level hockey players, but here we are.

Patrik Nemeth (2 years, $6M AAV with Detroit)

Detroit just decided to give two bad hockey players the exact same contract. nothing much to see here. moving on...

Gustav Nyquist (4 years, $5.5M AAV with Columbus)

this is actually a reasonable deal. good on the Blue Jackets for keeping the term shorter than it could’ve been and not overreacting to the departures of Bobrovsky, Duchene, and Panarin. that might sound like damning with faint praise (and that’s definitely what this is!), but that’s better than having to damn them with, uh, damnation? haven’t really thought of a suitable metaphor here. again, I’m tired.

Artemi Panarin (7 years, $11.642M AAV with NY Rangers)

I’m not sure the Rangers’ future competitive window aligns with his own window as an elite winger, but it’s hard for a team to pass on the opportunity to add someone as good as Panarin & it’s hard for a person to pass on the opportunity to become the second-highest-paid player in the National Hockey League. tough to blame the Rangers for signing this deal, even if it won’t look great in the final few years.

Richard Panik (4 years, $2.75M AAV with Washington)

stop me if you’ve heard this before: the price is right for a solid middle-six forward, but the term is questionable.

Joe Pavelski (3 years, $7M AAV with Dallas)

he’s still really good even at (almost) 35 years old, so the first year likely won’t be an issue, but signing anyone that old for that length of time is a big risk. if I had to guess, the Stars will probably end up trading him or buying him out after year two, but that’s a problem for later.

Corey Perry (1 year, $1.5M with Dallas)

I think he’s probably washed, but this signing’s still a decent bet

Andrej Sekera (1 year, $1.5M with Dallas)

not seeing the upside is here, but luckily, the downside isn’t intolerable

Wayne Simmonds (1 year, $5M with New Jersey)

if almost any other team had signed him to that deal, I’d have said it was mistake, but New Jersey has so much cap space to work with that it literally doesn’t matter. mostly, though, I kinda resent having to sit through the same “is Wayne Simmonds still good?” debate on TSN that happened just a few months ago at the trade deadline. (the correct answer is “no, he isn’t,” by the way.)

Mike Smith (1 year, $2M with Edmonton)

why are you doing this to poor Connor McDavid? what did he do to deserve it?

Anton Stralman (3 years, $5.5M AAV with Florida)

this would’ve been a great deal to give Anton Stralman five years ago, but now? woof.

Cam Talbot (1 year, $2.75M with Calgary)

maybe he’ll be alright this year. I have my doubts, but for one year? sure.

Brandon Tanev (6 years, $3.5M AAV with Pittsburgh)

not necessarily the worst signing of the day (though it’s definitely up there!), but it is the most purely confounding. whereas, with Bobrovsky and Myers, I can at least understand the thought process that went on (Florida needed a goalie; Vancouver likes that Myers is 6′8″ and won the Calder Trophy a decade ago), I cannot fathom why Pittsburgh did this. six years?! for an only-OK fourth liner who’s never had a significant amount of hype? who the hell did they think they were bidding against?

Semyon Varlamov (4 years, $5M AAV with NY Islanders)

look, any time you can throw a four-year deal at 31-year-old goalie who’s had a GSAA meaningfully above zero just once in the past four seasons, you’ve gotta do it

Colin Wilson (1 year, $2.6M with Colorado)

well, that checks out. seems fine to me.

Mats Zuccarello (5 years, $6M AAV with Minnesota)

reasonable salary, bad term. or at least, it would be bad if Minnesota weren’t going to be a completely irrelevant team over the lifetime of the deal. so, really, what’s the point?