#we will deliver your furniture to your front door.

[gojo-enthusiast]

Omg so I’ve been so busy and just lost my inspiration— but you know what always gets me back? My baby Kento🫶🏻

Smut🥰 enjoy

The Kento Nanami you married when you were 20 and he was 26 was very different from the 24 year old you, and the 30 year old Kento. The affectionate, giving husband, turned into a cold, secluded, emotionless man. It had been 2 years since the attack in Shibuya, he was released from his duties, and retired from being a sorcerer. You thought after moving away, having your toes in the sand, and waking up to the sound of the water, maybe he would feel a sense of peace, but in reality, it only made him more anxious that he no longer lived a life of protecting the innocent. You often would catch him outside slashing something in the air, little did you know, he was protecting you from the curses lingering, watching you.

It had been 2 years since the last time you actually touched your husband, hugs, holding hands, kisses, and sex. You two were inseparable, he would rock his hips into you every morning and night, like it was his last. Now he is a foot in front of you, and you weren’t even allowed to touch him, even the feather sweet caresses he craved. In one particular night you ran your fingers in his hair, as he was turned on his side— Next moment, your husband has his hands wrapped around your neck, breathing roughly. He had quickly realized it was you, and that he was safe, he no longer was in Shibuya. But by the time he came to his senses, you were coughing, and next morning you had bruises around your neck. You were not surprised when the following day you saw bedroom furniture being delivered and set up in the second bedroom. After that day, Kento slept in another room, and locked the door anytime he entered that room. You both still did things as a married couple, like eating dinner, but now it was quiet conversations, and or watching a movie in silence. You often would catch your husband shirtless as he got out the shower, your womanhood aching at the sight… Oh how you missed the way he would devour you whole, but he simply would not let you be less than a foot away from him.

There was nights your little toy that became your new husband, the purple vibrator in your night stand, would take you to a high, but never a high that he took you in the past. Of course Nanami could hear your soft, pathetic moans, the little whimpers, and his name slipping off your tongue. It made him achingly hard, fisting himself in the other room, while listening to your moans. “Fuck.” Nanami would grunt, while releasing into his hand.

Despite your and your husband being married for 4 years, the time he spent in grief after Shibuya, you both had to find yourselves again, and find one another again. It started off with little dates on the beach, or at home, and eventually he pushed himself to go out into town at night time, since his burns aren’t as noticeable. He met your best friend and her husband, and got to enjoy moments where he sipped on his scotch.

“How are things going with you and the wife? Do you feel like you guys are getting closer?” Your friends husband asked Nanami. “I would like to say so.” He says, sipping on his scotch. “Have you two had sex yet” That question nearly had Nanami in a coughing fit. “Jeez— give a guy some warning.” He coughs. “Sorry.” He laughs. “But have you two?” He asked again. “No— no we haven’t.” Nanami says, sipping on this scotch once again. “Baby you ready to get going?” You smiled gently at your husband, as you walked into the mancave. “Y-yeah.” He muttered out, downing the last bit of alcohol.

“I’ll drive baby.” You smile as you walk towards the car. Nanami hums at you in agreement, still opening your door, as you are about to get into the car, you feel your husband’s hand slap your ass casually. It was almost as if it was on instinct, your face burned red while nanami shut the car door and slipped into the passenger seat. You blushed as you looked over at him, and his shirt had some buttons undone. <he hasn’t touched me like that in years.> you thought to yourself.

You started your drive, as you stare at the road ahead, you feel your husbands hand on your thigh, “Ken!” You gasp. “Shhh.” He hushed you, putting his hand under your little flowy dress. Caressing your core through your panties. “Kento stop.” You moan out. “You really want me to stop? You’re so wet though?” He said, as he turned towards you, the look in his eye was full of lust. He had ripped off his eyepatch when he had gotten in the car, you were not used to not seeing his eye not covered, he was extremely vulnerable, but alcohol that was flowing through his veins, had him wanting to jump your bones.

You pulled into the drive way, and within seconds, he was on the other side, peeling you out of the car. He was a jujutsu sorcerer after all.

“Nanami— hold on.” You groan, as he lifts you up into his arms. “I need you so bad right now. I don’t think I can hold it anymore.” He groaned, as you wrapped your legs around his waist so naturally. You couldn’t remember when you last held your husband so closely. “The burns— do they scare you?” He whispered in your ear, as he walked up to the front door, pulling out his keys. You put both your hands on each side of his face, kissing his burned eyelid, then his cheek, then his lips. “I could never be scared of you Nami.” You smiled, as his lips attached to you again. “I’ve missed you more than life. You are my life.” He moaned into your mouth, as your core rubbed against his bulge. Finally the damn door opened, and he was already sprinting to the bedroom, it had you giggling on how determined he was to get you into bed.

“Slow down trackstar.” You giggled. “I can’t, this is for my life, my heart just might stop.” He groaned. He sat you on the bed, and in an instant, you pulled his slacks down, his cock springing out, you wrapped your soft hands around it, instantly having him in a moaning mess. He began to thrust into your hand, throwing his head back in pure ecstasy. “You feel good baby?” You asked as you kissed his hip bone that was partially burned. "Fuck- yes. I missed you my girl." He said in a grunt, as his fingers laced into your hair, pulling your head to look up at him. Something compelled you in that very moment, you attached your lips to the tip of his cock, and begin to take him into your mouth. "FUCK!" He nearly shouted. He gracefully thrusted his cock deeper into your mouth. His hips had a mind of their own, he was easily about to spill everything he had built up, deep into your throat. "S-so close." He pushed your head deeper, his cock carrassing your throat. Tears pushed out of your eyes, and your core was dripping onto your panties. "Yes yes yes" Kento chanted, and with one final thrust and your tongue rolling over the tip of his cock, he spilled down your thrat with a groan, as his head was thrown back, and his once geled back hair, was hanging back.

Your husband slipped from your mouth, looking at you with doe eyes, falling back into the mattress, his eyes closed and he had drifted to sleep. You knew he had struggled with sleeping for the last couple years, so as he drifted into a deep slumber, you pulled the blanket over him, and getting under those blankets, with your head on his chest, the side that had been badly burned. "I love you Kento." you smiled. Your core was not going to sizzle down anytime soon, but this was all too blissful, you enjoyed lying so close to him and hearing his soft snores. You didn't know when the next time you would get to experience this again. You eventually faalling into a slumber, with your arms wrapped around him.

Kento's eyes fluttered open, the sky was hardly lit, the sun slowly peeking through the blind, it had to be 6am. He hummed as he stretched, he turned seeing your sleeping body holding onto him from his waist. His heart sank, the memories of last night had the tip of his ears, and cheeks a bright red. He didn't even take care of your needs, you graciously took care of him, while he thrusted his cock into your poor sweet mouth. The mere thought of it, had him aching all over again. His thoughts swarmed with memories of when he would spread your legs, and lap his tongue until you came 3 times. Next thing Nanami knew, he was in between your legs, spreading them apart. He could smell the arousal from the night before, filling up his senses, he groaned. Looping his fingers in your panties, and pulling them down. He stared at your core, as you lied there peacefully. Opening your folds, he peered at your wet core, his cock was achingly hard, precum already dribbling out. He attached his lips to your clit immediately, sucking gently. It had you moaning in your sleep…

“Wake up.” He continued licking, then pushing his middle finger into your core. “wake up baby.” He said again, his other hand squeezing your hips. “Ken?” You moaned questioning. “Hmm?” He said, continuing to thrust his digit into you, while lapping your clit. “Oh fuck.” You moaned, pushing your hips closer to his face. He was nose deep— he was groaning in pure pleasure from tasting you, “so sweet.” He said. Your hair was a mess from sleeping, and you felt your legs and core twitching. “So so good.” you moaned to him. “Please don’t stop.” You added. “Never- never leaving this pretty pussy again.” He moaned into you, as he sucked your clit. You felt like that line in your stomach was about to snap, once he curled his fingers to rub the squishy spot you had always wished you could reach, you were cumming right on his tongue. “Fuck fuck!” You moan, arching your back. You felt his fingers slip out, and when you looked up, he was aligning his cock into your heat. “Relax for me.” He said in a pant, your essence all over his lips and chin. He wiped it on his hand, then licking it. “So fucking sweet.” He said as he pushed into your sopping wet core. “Ah!” You moaned loudly, feeling his thick cock push into you. “Yes yes yes.” You moaned over and over. He had pushed all of himself in, and threw his head back.

Thrusting quickly, he wanted to slow down, but this was years he had spent not feeling you, he simply couldn’t contain the animal inside of him wanting to devour you. “Ken— baby, slow down.” You moan, "I can't hear a thing, I can't hear you." He moaned as he thrusted in a rush. "Baby. hold me." You whimpered as tears slipped out, the pleasure and pain was magnificent. You felt stretched to full capacity, you couldn't believe how long it had been. The chemistry came together so perfectly, he lifted you into his arms, as he thrusted up into you. "Amazing, you feel so amazing. Do you feel the way she is gripping around me? Do you see the way we are joined my love?" He groaned in your ear, before leaning back for you to see the way he was making love to you. "Look at the way I push into you, and the way you hold onto me." He grunted, looking deep into your eyes. "How could I spend so much time neglecting you, you are a creation made by God himself." He sucked and bit at your neck, and shoulders. You felt your second orgasm approaching, while he relentlessly thrusted up into you. You felt him lay down flatly, signaling for you to ride him. You began to bounce on his cock, the tiredness slipping out of you. This was your moment, this was everything you have been craving for years. "So close." you moaned out.

"we aren't even close to being done my dear." He nipped at your ear. And oh was he right, he took you to your high, then even higher than that. He turned you to face the mirror, as he thrusted back into you, placing his fingers on your swollen clit, rubbing achingly slow. "See how I fill you?" He asked you again. "Look how you swallow me." He bit at the side of your neck. You saw stars until it was noon, and you had fallen asleep. Your skin was sticky with his release, he found it unholy arousing to see you covered in his seed.

You awoke an hour later, feeling his cock still inside of you, but with no movement. "We need to eat." He said as he lifted you up, and slipped out of you. "mmm" you groaned at the feeling of the emptiness. He carried you into the kitchen, setting your bare ass down on the counter. "That's cold." You squealed. "mmm is it?" He hummed. He was bare in front of you, no clothes, eye patch somewhere in the car. You watched as his muscles tensed as he held the knife and cut up banana's and strawberries for you. He slipped some homemade crossaints he had prepared the day before into the oven, as you ate the fruit he set beside you. "Kento?" You said softly, graving your fingertips on his bicep. "Hm?" he hummed, as he pulled the freshly baked crossaints out of the oven. "What is going on in your head?" You tilted your head, he looked over at you, peering at your naked figure and legs crossed. "My head?" He said, as he walked over to you, spreading your thighs to stand in between them. He put his mouth around the banana slice your fingers were holding onto, sucking your finger tenderly, then chewing the piece of fruit. "My mind is swarming with how you taste sweeter than this banana." He said with a sensual tone. "Nanami." You groaned as he attached his lips to your tender neck that was full of love bites. "I'm a starved man, I simply need more of you." He muttered into the crook of your neck. He reached behind him, grabbing the warm bread on the pan. "Eat." he said as he kissed your tender breast.

"Not right now." You moaned, "Eat or I will stop." he said, ripping off a piece of the flaky bread, placing it on your lips. You relunctlingly opened your mouth, chewing slowly, as he attached his lips to your hardened nipple. "Nanami, wait." You moaned, as he then ripped off another piece of the bread, slipping it into your mouth. "Please no more." You moaned, as you pushed your core closer to his stomach. "Please touch me." You moaned. "I will touch you, if you eat this." He said, lifting his head back to you, handing you the crossaint. You had never devoured something so quick- he picked you up, turning you around so your breast were on the counter, and bent over. You felt his thick member poke at your entrance. "Nanami- ahh." You moaned as he pushed himself into you so eaisly. "So wet for me." He said with a slap on your ass. "All for you." You said, as you moaned out.

It was like this for 2 days, he had flipped your insides in and out, countless of times. If you had to guess, you came 50 times in a span of 2 days. You were exhausted and your body had finally given out, you awoke Monday morning, he had showered you while you were asleep, you were in a fresh set of panties and pajamas. You smelt bacon and something sweet seeping into the bedroom, you peeled your weak body out of the bed and walked out of the bedroom to the kitchen. "Ken?" You called out, your voice horse. "In the kitchen." He responded lowly. "How are you feeling?" He said as you walked in. "I'm fine." You yawned. "Sit at the table, I'm about to be done." He smiled softly. You sat at the table, crossing your legs like a pretzel. He placed the breakfast in front of you, while kissing your forehead.

"We should talk." He huffed out, as he sat down on the chair beside you. "Okay." You smiled at him, grabbing his hand.

You knew this conversation would be the most emotional one you probably would ever have with him, but with love in both of your eyes, you knew you both were finally at peace.

[minispidey]

04: Barbie and the Giftshopist.

Steven Grant x f!bimbo!reader. previous part. series masterlist.

04. Breaking into a museum with Barbie!

warnings: breaking and entering??? none really.

note: italics are the boys in headspace talking ❤️

As usual, it was as if you and Steven were in sync: showering, preparing, and dressing up at the same time before walking towards your doors and opening them in unison.

"Steven!" you smiled brightly at him as you stepped out of your flat and locked it "Okay! I got our whole afternoon to dinner planned out. I made a list~"

"Alright." he laughs "What's first?"

You crumpled the paper and threw it behind you "Shopping." you grabbed his arm and pulled him into the elevator fast.

You drove to the nearest furniture shop and practically dragged Steven inside "Come on! You need a proper table. Just because it's doe-able doesn't mean it's good enough."

"I don't got the money, love."

"Who said you're paying?"

Steven was a moth to a flame. He loved the clear difference between you and him. You were this big ball of energy, a magnet pulling him in. You were a bit of a ditz, but you had an incredible job and lifestyle, and he was just a giftshopist.

Maybe he doesn't deserve you.

"Alright. No more self-sabotaging. Just enjoy your date." Marc said from the headspace, groaning.

"I'm trying." he mumbled. Steven watches you look at different dining tables, knocking and asking for other colors and types of wood.

"Gosh… I've always wanted one like that," he whispered to himself "A little too expensive, though. I could never ask you to–"

"Stevie, come on!" you giggled.

You went further into the back where there wasn't any staff and settled on an oak table "I think this is it!" you lifted yourself and sat on it, letting your slip-on heels fall with two clicks.

"Alright. It's-" Steven's eyes widened at the price "...pricey."

"It's my treat, Stevie. Consider it uh... a gift! To commemorate our date and many more to come, I hope?"

He blushes, nodding "Yeah! Of course." he sets his hand on the table, beside your thigh "Maybe, you know... dinner one of these nights? I'll cook you something."

"Smooth. Don't forget to breathe." Jake chuckled.

You started giggling "I can't say no to that. Totally! I didn't know you can cook."

"You can't." Marc sighs.

"Yeah, I can." Steven took his hand off the table and knelt in front of you taking your heels "What else do you have planned in that list of yours? Anything you wanna do's fine with me."

"Well, Vogue released an article for the top most romantic dates and one of them is at a museum! Which I would personally enjoy, but you already work there." you shrugged "How about we shop until my ankles bruise and top it off with dinner?"

"Woah there, love. Wouldn't want to ruin your shoes now, would you?" he joked as he slipped your heels on your feet.

"Gosh, you're so right! I should buy a new pair to replace these ones!"

It looked brand new to Steven which puzzled him for a second.

"Let's go pay— well, I'll pay— and I'll have it delivered tomorrow." you grab his hand and hop off the table, walking back to the front of the store and placing your credit card down "Put it in my card. We'll take the one in the back."

He watched you with a faint, incredulous smile as the cashier took the card and rang it up. You were a madwoman, a sweet, generous madwoman, and he was in love.

It wasn’t even that the table was expensive, though it was— it was that you’d do this for him that meant so much.

In fact… this wasn’t just his favorite date. It was one of his favorite moments he could remember.

What an enchanting woman you were.

The two of you stopped by a bookstore, dragging him inside. The comforting smell of the books relaxed you and you began to read the titles of the ones lined up on the shelves. One looked old and intrigued you. You took it out and smelled the pages, making Steven smile.

He wandered off on his own, spotting a couple of classic novels before stopping in front of the Egyptology area. Steven checks out a few books, skimming through the pages before the old shopkeep coughs and points at a no reading sign.

"Sorry." Steven closes the book before setting it down. You found him and took his hand, heading deeper into the shop "I wanna look for something."

"Something?"

"Classic. Also one of the reasons why I love romance."

"What's this mysterious book?" he chuckled.

"Pride and Prejudice." you smiled "A prideful shy arrogant man with bad social skills and a prejudiced independent young woman fall in love. The best enemies to lovers book to exist. But then again I didn't read it yet, I watched the movie and the series..."

"Really? Maybe I'll watch it some other day."

"Totally! So, Egyptian history books again?"

"Research. I donated off some of my books from the pile we made last week so I can get new ones. I promise I won't get more than five." he laughs, holding up three books he picked.

"Aw, good for you!"

You placed his purchased books into the back of your car and drove off with him "There were a couple'a Pride and Prejudice books back there. Why'd you didn't get one?"

"Well," you let out a sigh "I wanted to get like, the original one. As in, original release."

"Original release? When was it released?"

"Eighteen–thirteen I think."

Steven stops to think "Love, that book was published over two–hundred years ago."

"And?"

"I don't think you'd be-" he stops himself "Maybe you'll get lucky next time."

"I hope so!" you turn your head towards him "I've been wanting it for so long! Ever since I watched Kiera Knightley, I was never the same! That was love and I refuse to read Pride and Prejudice unless it's the original one."

Steven was worried when you took your eyes off the road and held on to the wheel "Careful!"

"Oops! Sorry~" you giggled as you turned your head back "We should go on a walk to the restaurant! Maybe just a few minutes away."

"We could." he nodded "I'm just worried about your shoes. Are you sure you want to walk on cobblestones in heels, love?"

"I'll be fine! It would be so romantic and-"

"-totes not amazing!" you whimpered while you sat down outside the restaurant and Steven was kneeling down to try and fix your heels.

You two finished eating your dinners and you were still mopey about your pretty pink heels "These were the cutest kitten heels I had and I forgot these were Tommy! It's so hard to find these."

"Sorry, love. I should've stopped you harder." Steven looked up at you.

"No, Stevie. It's fine. I'm the one who insisted on having a romantic walk." you sighed "Can you get the car?"

After a few minutes, he (Jake) managed to drive the car to the restaurant where you waited and he switched to Steven before getting out of the driver's seat. You got up before tripping down because of your broken heel.

"Love, are you alright?" Steven helps you up and slip off your heels.

"I'm okay..." you took your broken heels and opened the trunk of your car, tossing it in before taking out your emergency pink fluffy slippers.

You both entered the car and drove away. It was a quiet drive as you stared straight ahead with a frown, no sign of your usually happy and cheery self present.

Steven thought he ruined it. He should've helped you with the date but instead, he just laid back and let you do whatever. He felt bad. He shouldn't, but he did. Even Marc is trying to tell him the heel wasn't his fault.

"I'm sorry, Stevie... I just wanted to have a really romantic and nice night and my heels ruined it..." you broke the silence a minute later.

"It's alright, love. You don't need to apologize. I enjoyed it anyways. All I really wanted was to be by your side..."

Your eyes lit up and the car slows down in the empty road "Really?"

"We don't even need to go out with a grand plan. Honestly, dates aren't my thing and I'm not good at it. But the times we just hang around in my flat are romantic to me." he smiled at you "Home-cooked dinner, a movie, and you."

You smiled back at him and you realized that he was the perfect man for you. You didn't want to let him go.

"What was that article again— oh, top best dates, right? A museum. Do you still want to go?"

You checked the time "Are you sure it's still open? It's already 10:43..."

"It will be." Steven held up a keychain. You kept staring at the key and he knew you didn't get it "We're gonna break in— well, not break in. I have the key, so. Not breaking in. Besides, I work there."

"Oh my gosh, Stevie!" you cover your mouth, smiling "Isn't this like, totes illegal?"

"Not if we don't get caught."

"Who are you and what did you do to Steven?" Jake laughed from the headspace. Steven ignored his comment and looked at you in the eyes.

"You know what? We've been doing what I want this whole time. Let's do it!" you drove off quickly, excited because of the idea. Steven was happy to see you smile again, and he was sure about his idea.

You parked away from the museum itself and both of you snuck to the door, Steven opening the locks with his keys. He opened it a bit and let you in. He shuts the door immediately and the museum is dark, but it amazes you.

You could still see the artifacts with the moonlight peeking in through the windows. You walked around and smiled as Steven talked about some of the artifacts in the Egypt gallery "And you work at the gift shop? Gosh. You could be a tour guide or something..."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. Totes!" your voice echoed throughout the room "I mean, you should totally apply for it or something. Those books are paying off real well."

Before he knew it, hours passed and you sat in front of a statue, making you curious "Who's this?"

"That's a Caryatid. She was a pillar used to support a roof." Steven looks at it and sits next to you "Caryatid is Greek for maidens of Caryae. She's one of six maidens, the Caryatids of Erechtheion."

"Six?" you turn to him "Where's the other five?"

"Athens from what I remember."

"While she's the only one here in London?" you stared sadly at the statue again "That's so sad... she has sisters and she hasn't been with them for god knows how long... it's so sad..."

Steven looked at you and nodded "It is..." his heart was crushed after understanding what you meant. But it did make his heart skip a beat when you cared for a statue.

"You know, if I had to steal one and give it back, would want to give her back..." you whispered, touching the base with your hand.

After that night, you didn't see Steven for two weeks. You were worried but didn't want to overstep your boundaries.

Was your date really that bad?

You missed having to step outside and see his face every day. It made you a little depressed too. It was yet another morning without Steven's greetings and you picked up the newspaper from outside your door before walking to your bed and opening it up to read the latest news.

As you were about to take a sip of your morning drink, you dropped it by accident upon seeing the article.

The Homecoming Triumph: Athens Welcomes the 6th Caryatid Statue.

UP NEXT: what happened to steven in the last two weeks?!

tags: @red-hydra @monsterroonio @pastelpinkpilatesprincess @letmehavemyfictionalmen @uncle-eggy @superduckmilkshake @3zae-zae3

[castillon02]

Wade was on the couch, shoveling frito pie into his facehole, when Spidey crawled through the window, paused, cocked his head, opened his mouth, and then closed it again. 

Not Spidey’s usual M.O. 

Then Spidey made a lip-zipping motion at him and dropped from the wall to the floor. His shoulders and calves had tightened, and his movements jerked instead of slinked, his body ready to spring into motion. 

Hot. Mildly alarming, but hot. Spidey had sensed something.    

Wade moved over to the front door to secure their exit. Katanas: check. Guns: check. Frito pie: check. He kept eating. 

Spider-Man did a slow three-sixty, peering around the room, and froze with his eyes narrowed in the direction of Wade’s newest purchase: a Deadpool-themed boombox that Wade had found on Etsy. It had arrived just that morning. 

Wade was going to leave such a negative review if it turned out that his boombox was actually a bomb. Not one star—it had a tape deck, a CD player, and an AUX hook-up, and Wade was all about that retro shit—but definitely negative. Maybe two stars; who couldn’t appreciate the pun of a boombox that went boom? 

Spidey advanced on the boombox and ran his fingers over its surface like a snob testing the furniture for dust. Attached to his fingertip on the upswing lay a red square about the thinness of a gum wrapper and the breadth and height of a motherfucking electronic bug. 

“Christ on a pogostick dildo,” Wade muttered, setting his frito pie on the Javelin anti-tank missile launcher that had been delivered along with the boombox. 

He’d used his last bug detector as a bludgeon, and he kept going out to get a new one only to be distracted by one of the Big Apple’s tempting offerings: people to shoot, Spideys to please, tacos to eat, Spideys to please… Actually, maybe it was kind of appropriate that Spidey was the one helping him out here, given that he’d been so distracting. 

And given that… 

Heh. 

His name was Spider-Man. 

And he’d found a—

Found a b—

Wade made desperate crab pinching motions at Spidey. 

Spidey interpreted his hand signals like a boss and crushed the bug into itsy bits between his freakishly strong spider-digits. 

Wade squealed. “Holy exterminator, Spider-Man! You caught an actual-fact bug in your not-so-actual-fact web! Fly swatter, more like spy swatter!” 

“See, this is why I don’t tell people.” Spidey scratched at the back of his neck. 

Wade put his hand to his chest and batted his eyes even though only the bottom half of his face was visible. “Awww, and you told little old me?” It always made Wade’s heart grow three sizes when Spidey showed him one of his spidery secrets.  

Spidey shrugged. “I figured you’d want your ‘Workin’ 9 to 5’ serenades to be private.” 

Wade settled one hand on his cocked hip and put on a country accent. “I ain’t never got no shame over Ms. Parton, Websy.” 

“I was also trying to avoid mentioning the Nickelback.” Spidey gestured at the CD organizer next to the boombox, which was open to Now That’s What I Call Music! Volume 10. 

Now That’s What I Call Music! Volume 10 had Nickelback’s “How You Remind Me” on it, and after the Britney Spears and JLo songs, Wade had definitely planned on belting out the “I SAID I LOVE YOU AND I SWEAR I STILL DO” and “SCREAM ARE WE HAVING FUN YET?” lines extremely loudly and emotionally, possibly before shooting himself. Not his ideal recording to have in the hands of his enemies. 

“Your sacrifice is appreciated, Spidey.”  

Spidey gave a sloppy salute. 

Wade narrowed his eyes. “Hang on. How do you know which songs are on that CD?” 

“Oh wow, some frito pie! And what’s that? I think my spider senses are tingling…” As he darted towards the window, Spidey webbed Wade’s bowl from the missile launcher to his hand. 

Wade wouldn’t be fast enough to catch him; instead, he lunged for the boombox and frantically inserted the CD. “Don’t think I don’t know what your 2002 jam is!” He mashed the skip button.  

Spidey hovered near the window, about to be hoisted by his own curiosity. “No way,” he said. “There’s twenty songs on that CD. No way you guess right.” 

“Oh, yeah? Well, listen TO THIS!” Wade stopped the disc on song 15. 

A piano melody started to play. 

“Oh my god,” Spidey said. He dropped the bowl onto the counter and his face into his hand.   

“Makin’ my way downtown, walkin’ fast, faces pass, and I’m homebound!” Wade sang along with Vanessa Carlton. He pointed at Spidey and walked over. “Starin’ blankly ahead, blankly ahead, making my way through the crowd…Take it, Spidey! Dun-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh—”  

“And I need you!” Spidey stifled a laugh. 

“Dun-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh—” Wade shoved the frito pie spoon, microphone-like, into Spidey’s hand. 

“And I miss you!” Spidey sang into the spoon. 

“Dun-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh— chorus time, go!” 

Spidey leaned into the spoon. “AND NOW I WONNNDER…IF I COULD FALL…INTO THE SKY…” He tilted the spoon at Wade. 

“DO YOU THINK TIME…WOULD PASS ME BY…” 

They sang the rest together: “CAUSE YOU KNOW I’D WALK A THOUSAND MILES IF I COULD JUST SEE YOU…TONIGHT.” 

“Hey,” Wade said after their duet ended. The dulcet sounds of Celine Dion (song number 16) faded into the background, helped by his hand on the volume knob. “Could you check my bedroom for bugs, too?” 

Spidey sighed. “For electronic surveillance, Pool. Don’t get any ideas.” 

Wade crossed his heart (and his fingers behind his back). 

“But,” Spidey said, “even if the rest of the place is clean, maybe we should check the Switch for bugs too. You know. With the very advanced spider technique of playing it.” Spidey fidgeted. 

“Going once, going twice, SOLD, to the Deadpool with the color-coordinated boombox!” Wade mimed banging a gavel. 

Pretty good for a day in which Wade had been considering shooting himself to a Nickelback soundtrack. And Spidey ate all his frito pie, so he didn’t even have to deal with any gross leftovers! 

The next day, Wade did some investigating and posted his Etsy review: This seller attached an electronic monitoring device to the product, BUT someone threatened their family to get them to do it, so, what can you do, ammirite? Took out that trash for you btw, np. The CD player, tape deck, and AUX all work great, the speakers are nice and loud, and the design is chef-kiss. 5 stars for immaculate engineering, 0 stars for being unwilling to sacrifice the lives of your friends and loved ones for a faceless customer with a poop emoji in their username, 5 stars again for being bribed into letting me be a repeat client despite all the bloodstains. Looking forward to the Spider-Man-themed iPod with webby wired earbuds!  

Author's note: for those who don't know what frito pie is, it's basically corn chips with ground beef and cheese (and assorted miscellaneous) on top, kind of like nachos. Regardless of its status as a family dish, it is an absolutely bachelor kind of meal.

[snoopyana]

say cheese.

“been a minute since we kicked it, you’ve been caught up.”

it’s easy to get caught up with life. accidentally leaving friends on delivered for weeks, forgetting plans that were made weeks in advance — like a movie night with a certain someone. it’s just easy to forget from time to time.

song eunseok. smut. close-friends dynamic. cw for head pushing towards the end!!

body melting into your couch, you were in darkness of your living room. limbs hanging off the furniture from practically throwing yourself into the cushions— but you were finally relaxed. recovering from the past week, it left you void of any energy — resulting in neglecting your friendships to stay one-hundred percent focused. in the midst of your intense workload, you always had that itching feeling that you were forgetting something important.

or someone important.

but you’d always push the thought to the side. until now, you laid motionless, the sound of cars speeding past your building and rain hitting the closed windows filling your ears while you tried to remember what it was you were forgetting. until your phone started to buzz and vibrate on the coffee table, breaking your train of thought before you reached an answer. your eyes flickered over to the device as it moved along the glass table — but in all honesty, you couldn’t be bothered to even twitch a finger in the device’s direction. so it continued to shake on the table — multiple times at that. whoever was calling must have been determined for an answer.

but you were determined to not pick up. the effects of lack of sleep overpowering your will to move. the string of calls stopped, letting your mind finally be at peace. but the buzzing was only to be replaced with the headache inducing sound of someones fist aggressively pounding on your front door. that, you simply couldn’t ignore. paired with the sound of your phone buzzing once again, you found what little strength you had to reach for your phone.

there was silence for a split second on the other end, before eunseoks voice came blaring through the speakers. “are you still at work?” he questioned, concern yet annoyance in his tone.

“no.”

“well can you open the door? i’ve been knocking for like 5 minutes.” knocking was a severe understatement. the very recent memory of him basically beating a hole into the wood but you chose not to comment on it. mumbling out a quick, “it’s unlocked already.” you remembered in the midst of you tiredly stumbling into your home, you forgot to lock the door. only now remembering that small detail when eunseok happened to ask. the line went dead and the sound of your apartment door swinging open, hitting the wall in the process, echoed through the quiet space.

his footsteps being the only indicator that he was inside, those same footsteps stopping in front of the couch that you laid in. flipping around to face him, all he could do was stare as you made an attempt to look up at his face, a throbbing pain behind your eyes causing you to shut them. the dim city lights leaking in from the windows that lined your walls gave eunseok just enough light to see your exhausted expression. “what are you doing?”

wrapped inside your decorative throw blanket, something you would criticize anyone else for doing, you then mumbled into the seats — “laying down.” coming out slightly more sarcastic than you intended, eunseok gripped onto his chest as if you just shot him. “ouch, could be a little nicer.” using the same energy that you accidentally gave him. leaning down, he lifted your head up to make room for his body to slide in. resting your head right onto his lap, eunseok let you settle again — debating whether he should mention the planned movie night. a night that you had planned.

ironic isn’t it?

five minutes went by painfully slow, not wanting to disturb your peace again. had being zoned out for that short time, he was brought to when the light taps of your fingertips hit his knee. shifting his attention back onto you, he hummed in response. “why are you here again?” eyes still glued shut, you couldn’t see the confused and somewhat offended look on his face. a pinch on your arm causing you to yelp and making your body jolt up — head whip in his direction, “what was that for!?”

“you forgot that you invited me over?? we were literally planning this like 3 weeks ago. i put all the food that you asked me to bring in the kitchen.” messaging the skin on your arm, it dawned on you. it was you who made the plans. your chest started to tighten up with guilty as he sat there looking back at you. “i did, didn’t i?”

nodding his head, eunseok had his arm propped up on the armrest, head in hand — waiting for you to get up and get to setting up. he spent a solid 20 dollars on gas and wasn’t about to let it go to waste. stuttering over your words, you were finally able to get out your next sentence — “let me take a shower first..” a nervous laugh followed soon after before you were up and scurrying around the home.

leaning back into the armrest, your legs were propped over his, pillows and blankets decorated the couch as the original heathers blasted on your living room tv for the third time that night. eunseok insisted on picking the movies since you forgot about it all together. having no choice but to listen to the man rant about how culturally relevant this film was. mouth full of candy, all you did was nod as the male blabbered like a teenage girl.

stuffing a handful of popcorn into his mouth, eunseok continued his mini rant. “and that’s why you shouldn’t try to be caption save-a-hoe.” glancing over at him with disgust on your face as he spoke whilst chewing. “seok, stop talking with your mouth full”. nagging at him, all he did was roll his eyes while you used the pad of your thumb to swipe away popcorn from his lip. reaching for the remote, he scrolled through the alarming amount of streaming services that you had to offer.

getting up from your seat, he whipped his head in your direction. blurting out a quick “where are you going?” before you could even make it to the hall. “to piss? if you’re gonna be such a cling, come with me.” your voice faded into the darkness of the hallway, dim light from the bathroom spreading over the walls before fading out again when you closed the door. once he was sure that you were inside, his attention was back onto finding a new movie. but he couldn’t help but think about if he actually followed you.

“would have done way more than just come with you. maybe even come in a different way.” mumbling to himself, eunseok popped a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth before settling on the silence of the lambs.

pulling at your pajama shorts, you made your way back into the living room. taking note to the movie that he picked out as you slid back into your spot. grabbing a fistful of skittles, you flung one at eunseoks’ head. causing the man to slowly turn in your direction. “really seok, silence of the lambs? are you gonna bite my face off like lector?” giggling at your own fairly bad joke, eunseok gave you a nasty side-eye before pinching at your exposed thighs under the blanket. “maybe i will,” leaning back into the cushions, his hand messaged the skin on your leg, but his eyes glued to the screen, “a lot less gore. a little more affectionate though.” his words floated in the air as the movie progressed. unsure what to say, you opted to say nothing. eating and keeping silent was your best bet.

during the runtime of the movie, you two had changed positions to get more comfortable. correction, for him to get more comfortable. complaining that his legs were falling asleep, eunseok wanted to lay down. resulting in you having to get up yet again. and unfortunately, the only way for you both to lay down was for you to lay in between his legs — head resting just below his chest, arms finding sanctuary on his thighs.

“don’t move too much, might get hard.” a laugh following afterwards, guess there’s a trend of bad jokes tonight. digging your nails into his thigh, his laughter was quickly replaced with winces of pain and half assed ‘sorry’s. releasing his skin from under your nail, you let yourself go limp, sinking further into his lap — but something was nudging on your lower back. too lazy to address it, your eyes fell onto the screen.

wait.. is this the heathers again?

with the film coming to an end, you couldn’t help but take note of how that thing on your back hadn’t gone away, if anything it just got bigger?? and eunseok shifting uncomfortably underneath you. unable to ignore it anymore, your hand ventured down. in your mind, it must have been the remote. as your fingers wrapping around the object, eunseok just so happened to suck in his breath.

craning to look back at him, puzzled by his sudden reaction. while you stared up at him, he stared down at you — a lazy smile on his face. “i told you i might get hard if you kept it up. don’t look at me like it’s my fault.” your mind finally got a grasp of what your hand was grasping. quickly pulling away, you were nonverbal from shock, maybe it was arousal — maybe it was both.

“you’re so gross??”

“i didn’t do anything! but you can do something and help me so we can finish this movie.” he was still carelessly sprawled out on your couch, legs parted just enough for you to sit straight-up between them. while you were now seated on your knees, the request, (or was it a demand), bounced around your mind. meeting his gaze, eunseok raised his eyebrows — hand placed onto his thigh as he waited for you to make your decision.

it’s not like it was your first time getting physical.

and just like that, your fingers where laced at the waistband of his sweats. tugging and pulling at the the fabric just enough for his dick to spring out. spitting in your hand, you gave eunseok a feq quick pumps with one hand while the other rested on his thigh. while your fingers worked wonders, eunseoks head hung off the armrest.

his body jolting when your body sank between his legs for the second time tonight, this time taking him into your mouth instead of using his body as a makeshift pillow. a desperate groan exiting his lips when the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. “just like that, stay down for a moment..” and as if you didn’t hear him, eunseoks’ hand snaked down to grab a fistful of your hair — forcing your head down as he adjusted to the feeling.

of course he’s a pusher.

gagging around him, eunseok started to slowly fuck into your mouth— even though it was supposed to be a quick blow. he quickly got a little bit too into it , recklessly bobbing your head by the makeshift ponytail that he formed. hips lifting from off the couch as he continued to use your mouth. his moans mixing with the wet sucking coming from between his legs bounced off the walls, canceling out the sound of the television.

what was supposed to be playing away?

that doesn’t necessarily matter now. clawing at his torso, tears streamed down your face from the repeated assault on your throat. eyes tear filled from the aching sensation on your scalp from his overkill of a grip. “oh fuck, gonna swallow it all if i cum inside your mouth, yeah?” looking down at you, eunseok couldn’t help but reach for his phone with his freehand. snapping a few pictures before pushing your head all the way down. emptying all he had to give down your throat. keeping you down for just a second longer for good measure. wiping away the tears that stained your face, eunseok gently tapped your cheek. eyes flickering up to be met with his camera.

“say cheese.”

— hi lovebugs, yana here. it’s currently 3:11 AM and i started this at 3PM yesterday. but little me was determined to give you something i would be proud of. and this was supposed to be my eunseok bday post but clearly im a little late‼️ i hope the length makes up for the wait. now imma take my ass too bed, its so late and the music isn’t keeping me up anymore!! bye sweets!! 😋💗

[wolven91]

A New Mattress

It was odd to have money. George was used to fighting for every penny then figuring out how to stretch that penny as far as it would go.

There was an old joke from George's home that two of his countrymen were fighting over a penny one day and the pair of them invented copper wire as a result. The shrewd business sense and unwillingness to pay over the odds or for something unneeded flooded through the veins of everyone that came from his area.

Granted, nowadays he didn't know how many of his countrymen yet lived. He suspected it was more than himself, he wasn't the only one rescued from his hometown, but he'd been shuffled and lost track of where they were.

Still, now that George was shockingly well paid for a job that wasn't particularly taxing or highly skilled, his bank account was looking healthier than it ever was before.

"Tell me again, why I have to get a new mattress? Mine *is* new. It's literally brand new, they 'printed' it for me when I bought my furniture." The human male asked.

"Because it's not about having a basic mattress, an Atlas one is important."

"Why?"

"Health reasons."

George blinked up at the tall, muscular adonis that was staring down at him, despite him being well over six feet tall.

The taurian woman who he was speaking with was originally one of the first of the aliens to talk to him like a normal person. Brellin was a hulk of a woman, with a set of horns atop her head that could gore someone quite viciously if she wanted to hurt them. Granted, Brellin was more of a lover than a fighter. They'd been talking about moving in together for the last four months, but she was adamant that she would never stay the night unless they got a specific mattress.

One that wasn't exactly the cheapest option. 

"So, your back hurts orrr...?" George probed. If it was that she had a bad back, he wouldn't mind getting the mattress, he had the money, he just abhorred wasting money. She had the body of a body builder, so it wouldn't be a surprise if she had hurt her back by over doing it in the gym.

"Let's say 'yeah' and drop it? I told you from the beginning. I need one of those if I'm staying over." One of her hands came over and caught his chin between a finger and thumb as she stepped forward and lifted his head gently, but without letting him have control.

"I don't mind just coming over for fun, but that's my rule. Get the mattress and we can have fun all night..." She promised, seemingly getting into the role of the seducer. It fine change now that the taurian knew the human was putty in her hands.

That evening, a new Atlas mattress was delivered and placed onto the oversized bed frame of George's home. He dutifully fit the sheets, having a mild fight with them, but ultimately winning.

As he waited for Brellin, he clambered up onto the bed and lay on it.

It didn't feel any different, besides the grooves cut into the mattress itself. It was made from an odd material and the grooves deliberately cut into the material gave the appearance of a diced mango still attached to the rind.

It didn't matter to him for long though, as his front door rang as Brellin arrived.

Several hours later, Brellin was storing up a storm and George could barely feel his legs but couldn't help the contented grin on his face. The taurians were apparently a race of incredible stamina and the fact that sex for them was a rare event, they were beyond the term 'eager'.

It took some mental gymnastics to get over the size difference. An eight-foot-tall body builder that wanted to use her tongue on every inch of him was certainly a change of pace, but George could make that sacrifice to keep her happy.

Still, her warm, finely furred body was incredible, and he wished to never have to stop her pressing it against him.

Unfortunately, he got his wish.

Unbeknownst to him, Brellin, was a hugger.

Completely asleep, satisfied as she was, the giant minotaur rolled over, the mattress barely shaking despite her huge size, and her arms reached out to find her lover. George woke immediately from his dozing when the power clawed hands grabbed his shoulder and bodily dragged him into her body as if he were no more than a pillow.

A heavy body fell atop him, and the air was forced from his lungs, it coming out in a whoosh of air.

Then she was still again, perfectly asleep and dead to the world.

George, however, was pressed firmly in the centre of her chest, her full body weight pressing down on him, crushing him. He couldn't get air, couldn't lift her, couldn't breathe!!

The only movement he could even do, was turn his head, thanks to the deforming nature of the mattress he was being pressed into.

Air!

Sweet, cool air weaved its way between the grooves of the mattress beneath him and the entrapped man sucked it in greedily.

After a few, the man reevaluated his situation.

He was currently trapped beneath his lover. She was beyond strong, far too heavy to move, and it looked as though she was going to be staying still for the foreseeable future. The mattress beneath him had deformed enough that he wasn't being crushed and allowed oxygen to reach him despite what should have been a crushing weight.

Thank god Brellin told him to get this thing before they had actually fallen asleep together...

After a few minutes, the human came to the conclusion that this wasn't the *worst* situation in the world. His view, limited as it was, was incredible. His world for the time being was limited to just Brellin and he could feel her almost covering every square inch of him.

He was 'stuck' here until at least morning, so the young man settled in, enjoyed what he could and rapidly fell asleep listening to the massive heartbeat and steady lungs of his lover.

[shybunnie20]

Eddie Munson x Alt!Fem!Reader

★Teaser ★My Masterlist

Summary: Eddie seeks Steve's assistance in wooing you, but it doesn’t go the way he planned.

Author's Note: This was so fun to write! I don’t think it turned out particularly angsty tbh. There's a little bit of Halloween in it, 'tis the season.

Proofread to an extent. 90s AU with no Upside Down. No use of Y/N. Reader is vaguely depicted: wears black, has tattoos and piercings (no amount or locations indicated for either), enjoys spooky movies, and likes metal music. Happy ending!

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: brief mention of alcohol consumption, includes more swearing than usual

The sun hangs low, blowing kisses of dusk through the streaky panes of Family Video. Inside the store, the sporadic popping of kernels sets the tone for the evening shift.

When it comes to this job, unboxing shipments of snacks is the one task that manages to hold Eddie’s fleeting attention, simply because it gives him an excuse to wield a box cutter. Alas, today is not one where a shipment has been delivered. He’s more or less getting paid to hang out and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Leaning beside the register, Eddie lazily flips through a dated issue of Rolling Stone magazine. He’s not even reading the articles, just skimming the pictures.

In the documentary section, Steve is busy restocking the shelves. “I heard Keith’s giving out a plaque for 'Least Productive Employee' this year. If ya ask me, I think you’ve got Robin beat.”

“That’s debatable,” Eddie licks the pad of his finger and flips the page. “You’ve got it handled, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but there’s plenty of stuff that needs to get done before we get slammed tonight.”

“I’m doing my part,” Eddie raises his head and a smirk slowly overtakes his bored expression. “Someone’s gotta keep the front counter company. It gets lonely.”

“Aw, how touching. Of all things, you’ve found true love with a piece of furniture,” Steve scoops up the bucket of go-backs and sidesteps to the neighboring genre. “That’s gotta be the closest thing you’ve ever had to a relationship.”

Burn, but an accurate one. Eddie isn’t a Casanova but there’s nothing wrong with that, not at all. He’s got his hobbies and friends, what point is there in trying to convince the town that he’s up for a little romance? Besides, the absence of encounters means that flirting isn’t in his wheelhouse.

Eddie looks down at the face of his Casio, reading that it’s nearing seven o’clock. “Hey, do we still have a copy of Beetlejuice around?”

“I doubt it. All of the spooky shit has been going like hotcakes since Halloween is right around the corner.”

As customers trickle through the door, Eddie shifts to the computer system and types hurriedly on the keyboard. “Fuck, it’s gotta be here,” He abandons the register and searches the store.

Steve opens a case and snaps it closed, entirely oblivious to the commotion until Eddie whizzes by in his peripheral vision. “Okay, this is a whole new level of obnoxious,” Steve huffs. “Why are you so hell-bent on finding that specific movie?”

“Because she’s probably gonna wanna rent it, and if we don’t have it…” Eddie trails off as he flies by on the other side of the store.

“Cool your jets, turbo,” Steve notices that more people are coming into the store so he waves Eddie over. The last thing they need is a lawsuit because an old lady got plowed down. “Seriously, what gives?”

Wheezing at the end of the aisle, Eddie hunches over and bows his head. He grips his knees for dear life while he tries to catch his breath. “There’s this girl.”

Steve’s feathered brows mirror the nosey tone of his voice. “Who is it? Do I know her?”

“I doubt it,” Eddie coughs. “But she stops in every Friday night.”

“News flash, butthead. It’s the busiest day of the week, that’s not exactly narrowing it down,” Steve feels a creeping presence over his shoulder. Speaking of old ladies; he peeks, just to find an elderly woman encroaching on his personal space to view the titles that he’s blocking. “Sorry,” he says halfheartedly before directing his coworker toward the register with a toss of his head. “Is it Tara P.?”

“Nope,” Eddie follows and plops on the stool furthest from the computer. “She wears a lot of black, has tattoos, piercings-”

Steve shakes his index finger. “Okay, yeah, I know who you’re talking about now. She’s always dressed for a funeral,” He snorts.

“I know, isn’t it hot?” Eddie sighs dreamily while he tugs at his green coil key ring, stretching it as far as it’ll go.

“I mean, if you’re into that kinda thing,” Steve shudders dramatically. “Gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“I’m definitely into that,” Eddie gnaws on the soft pink flesh of his lips as he pauses. “There’s this aura around her, y’know? Not just her looks either, it’s her energy too.”

“Dark and brooding, huh? That’s what gets ya going?” Steve switches to his customer service voice as he checks out the elderly woman with minimal back and forth.

“Yeah, whenever she’s around my hands get all sweaty,” Eddie looks down at his large palms that are growing slick from discussing you. “She hangs out at the bar where I play. God, just seeing her makes my heart sing.”

He loses himself in thinking about seeing you at Wraith. You’re the only one that he strives to impress but he has yet to. You dance to other bands but not Eddie’s. Sometimes you nod your head to the beat, though it’s never enough for you to acknowledge his existence.

“Pass me a barf bag,” Steve gags. “Makes your heart sing?”

“Whatever, dude. It’s not like you’re gettin’ any action with your Harrington charm.”

“Excuse you,” Steve looks at Eddie pointedly. “I almost got that girl’s number on Monday, thank you very much. She was totally digging me.”

“Was she, though? ‘Cause she left without giving you her digits,” Eddie chuckles mockingly and tilts his head. “How many more times do you have to strike out before you finally throw in the towel?”

“That’s rich coming from the guy who canoodles furniture,” Steve scoffs. “Don’t come for my manhood. At least I have the balls to make a move.”

“So many moves, and yet, so few takers!” Eddie throws his head back and laughs boisterously.

“Put a sock in it,” Steve groans.

Speak of the devil. Eddie spots you walking into the store, just as you always do at this time. “Oh god,” He gulps and his joints lock, freezing time and space simultaneously. His mouth is slightly agape as the world comes to a standstill. His vision narrows to a tunnel, rendering him deaf and mute.

Steve snaps his fingers in front of Eddie’s face. “Jesus, man. Try to act somewhat normal,” he rolls his eyes. “If you even know how.”

Eddie does not know how especially not after being literally snapped out of his trance. His palms are clammy, his breathing is rigid, and he’s dizzy as all hell. “Look at her,” He whispers. Christ, you look so fucking pretty today.

“Are you trying to catch flies, dude?”

“No,” Eddie scowls, promptly tightening his lax jaw. “Fuck off.”

Steve takes notice of your figure moving down the aisle and turning in their direction. “Duun dun,” he begins to imitate the Jaws shark theme. “Duuun dun,” As you approach from the other end of the store, Steve gets progressively louder. “Dun dun dun dun dun-”

“Quit!” Eddie barks through gritted teeth and kicks Steve’s calf. “Don’t be an ass.”

“Ow, that was uncalled for,” Steve bends over to rub his leg in an attempt to soothe the ache. 

“Jesus Christ! She’s coming over here,” Eddie paces in the cramped area, nearly colliding with Steve when he pivots. “What the fuck do I do? I don’t know how to be Mr. Cool Guy.”

With your chosen film in hand, you are in fact approaching the register. Steve’s voice becomes discernible as you get nearer. “...if you keep acting like such a wuss. Grow a pair and just-”

“Shut up! Shut it,” Eddie makes it appear as though he’s doing something productive to the snack display, but he’s really just shifting the packets of Skittles around.

“Just this,” you confirm by setting down the tape and digging into your purse. The atmosphere feels tense, to say the least. You’ve clearly interrupted something. It’s plain to see on the other employee’s tomato-red face.

Steve offers a straight-lipped smile and scans your membership card. “Find everything alright?”

You hum in response. While he carries on with the transaction, you notice how peculiarly still the other guy is. “Hello,” you greet him softly, hoping to ease the atmosphere.

Eddie’s hands come to a halt and he looks up at you with wide eyes. “Heh,” He meant to say “hey” but only the first letter made it out alive. As you pay for your purchase, his mouth is still moving and he doesn’t know why. “That’s a good one,” he gestures to the movie.

You startle inwardly, not having anticipated an actual conversation to start. He seems nice enough. “You’re a fan of scary movies too, I take it?”

Eddie nods timidly. He flexes his fingers to combat the overwhelming numbness that’s plaguing his hands. His heart is beating so goddamn hard that it’s on the verge of bursting through his chest and landing wetly at his feet. “Yeah, I like them. They’re good. Really good.”

“Agreed,” While you tuck your wallet away, a polite smile rests on your face. “I was actually in the mood for Beetlejuice but it doesn’t look like you have it,” Your smile falls ever so slightly.

The sight causes Eddie’s pounding heart to twist and plummet to his ass. He’d give you every copy on the planet if he could.

Steve listens in over the sound of your receipt printing. His brows arch in genuine surprise that Eddie knew you’d want that movie tonight. Creepy, but impressive nonetheless. “Sorry about that,” Steve tears the paper from the machine and hands it to you. “Maybe next time.”

“Maybe,” you nod, accept the receipt, and pick up the tape. “Have a good night,” you say to both of them and head out.

Once you’re through the doors, Eddie clutches Steve’s forearm to ground himself in reality.

“Ugh!” Steve yanks his arm away to escape the muggy grasp. “That’s gnarly, man.” 

“Do you believe me now?” Eddie wipes his sopping palms on his jeans.

“Oh, I believe you, especially after witnessing that. I’m pretty sure Henderson has more game than you.”

Eddie returns to the stool with a plop. “Just kill me already,” he rubs his face, sighing. “Put me out of my fucking misery.”

“Don't threaten me with a good time,” Steve laughs to himself. “Anyway, back to Little Miss Dead Inside. What’ve you tried?”

“Nothing,” Eddie drops his hands and slouches in defeat. “I don’t think she even knows my name.”

“You gotta give her a reason to,” Steve continues conversing from over his shoulder while he checks out another customer. “What about notes? Y’know, old-fashioned love notes.”

Eddie scrunches his nose. “I dunno about that.”

“It’s right up your alley, Shakespeare. Besides, the ladies love melodramatic shit like that.”

Eddie suddenly perks up. “Wait, I could be totally anonymous! She could figure it out on her own. That way she comes to me and I don’t even have to approach her.” 

“That’s not what I said at all.”

“This could totally work,” Eddie motions to Steve’s head. “Who woulda thought there’s a few marbles rollin’ around in there.”

“Ha-ha,” Steve continues to slowly but surely shorten the line. “Don’t think I’m helping you.”

“The hell you aren’t,” Eddie hops up on the counter beside the register. He swings his legs with newfound optimism and tears open a package of red vines. “You’re obligated to help since it’s your idea.”

“I absolutely am not, and I have no interest in being inadvertently bitten by some vampire chick. Leave me out of it.”

“C’mon, I’ll owe you big time,” Eddie begs with his mouth full of waxy candy.

“You have to clean the restroom for two weeks,” Steve declares with a smirk.

“No fucking shot,” Eddie points with a half-bitten licorice rope. “Pick something else.”

“Do you want help or not?”

Eddie did indeed want help, so he agreed to the bullshit terms and conditions. He can scrub a toilet, no problemo. Honestly, he’d polish a hundred of them with a toothbrush if that meant you’d step into his life. You’re worth cleaning toilets for.

After closing up shop for the night, Eddie sits at his desk in his bedroom until the early hours. He writes draft after draft, struggling to find words that are forward and inviting without coming on too strong right off the bat.

Upon your arrival the following week, Eddie is shaking like a leaf. He listens to your interaction with Steve while being partially concealed behind a tall cardboard cut-out. Despite not being able to see you, he can see your lips forming the words in his mind. Your voice alone is making him weak in the knees. Eddie’s certain that if you don’t hightail it out of here soon, they’ll buckle and his cover will be blown.

Once he’s certain you’ve left, Eddie releases the breath he’s been holding since you walked in. “How’d it go? She didn’t see you put the note in there, right?”

“Why are you even asking? You eavesdropped the whole time. Yeah, it went fine, she didn’t notice.” Steve grumbles.

“Okay, cool,” Eddie chews on his thumbnail. “Shit, what if she thinks it’s creepy? What if she thinks it’s the lamest thing ever? Fuck, what if-”

“Dude,” Steve closes his eyes and holds his hands out. “You’ve gotta stop.”

In the comfort of your home, you plop down in front of the VCR and open the case that holds the reels of this evening’s entertainment; a movie you’ve rented a few times before, but not enough that you could quote it. Instead of a hard plastic shell, your fingertips find wrinkled notebook paper. Your brows furrow as you inspect it, shredded pieces dangling from where it was yanked from the spiral binding.

You unfold it three times. 

In the aisles of the video store, I've found a treasure unsurpassed. Not on the shelves, but in your eyes, I fell so fast.

It’s a prank, whatever the fuck this is. 

Never in your life have you ever thought about Steve, like, at all. You’re aware of his reputation, that he apparently has the tendency to be douchey and arrogant. But the more you think about it, he’s nothing like that when you interact at Family Video. Maybe he’s not that judgmental and he sees past your midnight exterior. This note is stupidly genuine and endearing. Who would’ve thought he had it in him? Certainly not you.

That’s the thing, though. Steve isn’t your type and you’re certainly not his. But you can’t recall a time when he’s ever looked at you like you’re some kind of freak. Most guys do, that’s something you’ve grown used to over the years and learned to ignore. This poem basks him in a new light, and you’re not quite sure how to process it.

Like clockwork, you’re back again but this time your chest is thrumming. The note could’ve been a fluke or maybe it was meant for someone else, you’re not entirely sure. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to be the intended recipient. Right now, it would be ideal to appear composed but you’re already wearing an unusual expression—a pleasant one—while you make your way to the drama section.

Tonight, it’s Robin and Eddie holding down the fort. As your combat boots scuff across the forest-colored carpet, Eddie can feel your arrival in his bones. He’s immediately seeking you out and when he locates you, he just about faints. Admiring from afar while manning the register, his mind races. Kissing is what’s on the curiosity menu tonight. Eddie wonders what flavor of toothpaste you prefer. If he could just get a little taste…

You meander your way around the shelving and through the dotting of customers. Eddie snaps his head in the opposite direction to avoid being caught staring. The sudden motion causes a pinch in his neck and he winces.

Lost in his own little world for a minute or two, Eddie’s attention is violently brought forward when you place a tape down in front of him. He buffers, noticing how you look subtly disappointed all of a sudden. He can’t imagine why, but he hates it with every cell in his body. Eddie fails to greet you and instead, he stares at your wine-painted fingernails as they tap the surface of the case.

“Is he not here?” You glance around with a lack of determination.

“Steve? Er, no. He called in sick,” He clears his throat harshly, all of the moisture drying up in his mouth by the millisecond.

“Oh, okay,” Over your other shoulder, you admire the new promotional display that was put out during the week.

Eddie seizes the opportunity to slip the second note into the case. His hands viscously tremble despite his best efforts to steady them. “Not to worry though, I can check you out way better than that walking hairdo,” Stop while you’re ahead, man. “Ring you up, I mean. I can ring you up better… than him.” Jesus fucking Christ.

“You’ve got quite the mane yourself,” A smile blooms as you look into the chocolate pools he has for irises. “I like your curls,” You can’t help but softly giggle at how bug-eyed he goes at your compliment.

“Uh, thanks,” Eddie bites back the cheek-splitter of a smile threatening to form. His trembling hands tingle unbearably from being able to make you laugh, despite not knowing what he did to earn it. He grabs a packet of M&Ms from the rack and slides it across the counter to you. “Here, free of charge.”

Your tightly sewn brow is accompanied by a slight pout. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Nonsense,” Eddie insists. “Everything’s on the house.”

“Is this some loyalty reward thing you guys do now?”

“Right on the money,” Eddie winks.

“Sweet,” you chirp. It’s as though your spirit has been replenished by saving a few bucks. “Do I get one of those little punch cards? I love those things.”

With the way your eyes are shimmering over a stupid piece of paper; Eddie would build you a house made of punch cards if that’s what you wanted. “Yeah,” he searches aimlessly. “But, uh, we haven’t gotten them yet.”

Your gaze finds his name tag and then returns to his flushed face. The corner of your mouth quirks as you notice the faint freckles dotted across his cheeks and nose. “Okay, well, thank you, Eddie.”

“No need to thank me, I should be thanking you! You’re a valued customer,” he exclaims. “My favorite of them all!”

“If you say so,” you exhale with amusement and turn to leave. “See you around.”

Eddie holds his palm open as a farewell gesture until you’re out of sight. He then brings his hand directly to his forehead in a ruthless smack. “You’re my favorite customer,” He mocks himself in a nasally voice.

With the press of a button, the register drawer launches open with a thunk. He nonchalantly retrieves his wallet, plucks out a five-dollar bill, and tucks it under the stainless steel clip to pay for your “free” movie and candy. Eddie finds Robin staring at him with a knowing look on her face. “Not a fucking word, Buckley. Not a word,” he glares, to which she throws her hands up in defense.

You couldn’t possibly wait until you got home to see if there would be another note. As you hop into the driver's seat of your car in the parking lot, you find an identical piece of folded paper. Your heart pitter-patters with the assumption that Eddie is in on it and he did Steve the favor of delivering this one for him.

With your illuminating smile, Baby Ghoul, you're the moonlight in my darkest night.

This note takes you by surprise for a different reason. It feels far more personal to be bestowed with the cutest goddamn nickname you’ve ever been given; ghouls are so metal. You obsessively reread it through the duration of your movie, while you brush your teeth, and as you lay in bed. You’re swooning over each messily penned letter, memorizing the spots where the ink drags and smudges.

It’s a bit difficult to imagine Steve saying this to you, but your insides are lurching at the thought. You hold the note to your chest and squeal.

The following visits are heavenly. Eddie loves seeing you bounce around on the balls of your feet like you’re on cloud nine. It’s becoming damn near impossible to fight the urge to smile because he knows that you’re looking forward to his imminent written affection.

Note after note, confidence simmers in his belly from seeing how the expression of his feelings is affecting you. To know that he’s the reason you’re glowing like this is turning his brain to pudding. Not tapioca, though. Ew.

With wide puppy dog eyes and a glossy lower lip, you present your past-due rental to Steve. He sucks his teeth, crosses his arms, and scolds you playfully. You successfully get out of paying the fee by simply batting your lashes at him.

Steve is eating this shit up. While you might not be his flavor of choice, he’s suddenly feeling open to sampling the femme fatale vibe. You’re beautiful, he wouldn’t waste his breath denying that. Not to mention, you’ve got a great sense of humor, considering you’re laughing at his awful jokes. That’s something he will admit—they’re bad.

Eddie doesn’t have to hear the conversation to know what’s unfolding. He feels like he’s gonna hurl when Steve leans down to shorten the distance between the two of you. He's supposed to be the middleman, not stealing Eddie’s thunder. In hindsight, there haven’t been any hints at his identity and Eddie’s been too chicken shit to give them to you except for the other day when he had no choice.

To put it simply, he’s torn. Eddie wants to scream that he’s your admirer, that he’s the one who dreams of you, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He can’t possibly reveal that it isn’t dashing Harrington who’s pining for you, but instead, it’s the dork. That would be a world-crushing level of disappointment.

This deal turned out to be a massive ego boost for Steve. The conversation is easygoing and it quickly progresses past small talk. The best part is that you haven’t even mentioned the notes. You think he’s some poet when in reality, he doesn’t even have a clue of what they say. You’re smitten without him having to bend over backward to impress you. He’d be nuts not to take advantage of it.

During closing time, Eddie stomps around while collecting the flimsy trash bags full of receipts and candy wrappers. For the past hour, he’s been pondering ways to “take care” of Steve. Sadly, it would be tricky to avoid raising suspicion if he suddenly disappeared, but hey, a guy can dream.

After dishing the silent treatment all night, Eddie finally speaks up. “You think you’re pretty clever, huh?”

“What?” Steve briefly looks up from counting the cash drawer.

“Cut the crap. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Eddie drags a clunky vacuum out of the cramped utility closet and unwraps the lengthy cord.

“It’s not that serious. Look, it’s not my fault that she’s into me.”

“Is all that hairspray finally soaking into your brain? She’s not into you,” Eddie growls, throwing the canary-colored cord to the carpet. “She likes the person who’s writing to her. Last I checked, that’s me.”

“Yeah, but she thinks it’s me,” Steve shrugs. “She’s happy, I’m happy. I don’t see a problem here.”

“The problem is that you know how I feel about her,” Eddie retorts while staring daggers. “The shit you’re pulling is really fucking unfair.”

“Life’s not fair, buddy. It’s not like you’re gonna do anything about it.”

“We’ll see about that,” Eddie mutters, clenching his jaw as he turns around to plug in the vacuum.

“Will we?” Steve snickers. “I don’t think I’ll live to see the day.”

It’s Saturday night and Eddie’s praying to every conceivable higher power that you’ll be here. You don’t come to Wraith every weekend, but when you do show, he’s nothing short of a nervous wreck.

He peeks out from behind the velvety black curtain of the concrete stage. Eddie’s heart stops when he finds you in your usual booth. You look hot, so so hot. It’s already hard enough to perform in front of you but when you look like this? Oh, brother.

Every year, you look forward to coming here on Halloween. Your friends have gone all out with their costumes and the hours you spent getting ready were well worth it. The typical dark and dingy ambiance is heightened by the plastic skulls and bones strung from the ceiling. Your drinks emit wisps of dry ice fog and each table has a bowl of candy.

Seated at the end of the booth, your eyes drift from your drink to the floor. There you find a pair of dirty white Reeboks. Your gaze travels up the lanky figure shrouded in navy coveralls.

Eddie twists his ring around the base of his finger and the glide is effortless, thanks to the premature perspiration. “Hey.”

“Uh, hi,” your expression reflects a mix of hesitance and confusion, though you maintain a kind demeanor. “Eddie, right?”

“Yeah,” She remembered my name. Eddie motions to your getup. “I like your costume. Elvira, right?”

While you may not be sporting a ceiling-high black wig, your costume is unmistakable. “Right on the money,” you flash a pert grin, quoting him from the other day. “And you’re a…”

“Supposed to be Michael Meyers,” he clarifies, pulling a plastic knife from his oversized back pocket. “The mask was too hot to wear so, I guess I’m a killer repairman?” Max’s borrowed mask was indeed suffocating.

“Or a plumber who secretly dreams of being a professional chef,” you shrug, your irises glistening with humor.

Okay, so far so good. Talking to himself in the mirror for an hour is really paying off because he’s not a bumbling idiot for once. He could be imagining things, but it looks like you’re leaning closer. Maybe you’re just trying to hear him better over the music. He shouldn’t be overanalyzing your body language but it's the only thing keeping him vertical.

Eddie wants to prove Steve wrong but most of all, he wants to tell you how incredible you are. He’s not sure that you’ll want to talk to him after this. You might be hurt when you realize that you’ve been misled and he’s not the one you want. There’s only one way to find out.

The sound of his band getting set up beckons him. “Show time,” Eddie shakes jazz hands with the toy knife still in his grip. Of course, he just had to make it weird.

While he’s playing through the usual set with Corroded Coffin, you don’t pay them any mind, per usual. Their final song is a new one. Eddie may lack the confidence to confess, but he’s gonna sing this with all of the moxy he’s got.

In this world of shadows, what else is there to do

Wanna explore life’s cemetery with you

Your haunting beauty tells no lie

The one thing I cannot defy

The familiarity of the lyrics floods your head. You look up and find his dark, gleaming eyes locked onto you. Your heart leaps in your throat as he repeats the verses. Eddie leaves no room for uncertainty, confirming that the lyrics are pulled from the notes you’ve received. The tone of his voice is raw and passionate as he sends his affection across the room.

As soon as he steps off stage, you’re on a mission to find him. He feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to find you beaming at him. Eddie finally allows himself to do the same, all the while blushing with exhaustion and anticipation.

“Hey, again,” you stare down at your shoes and scuff them against the floor. “You sounded great up there.”

“Yeah?” he swallows hard. “You liked it?”

Your eyes snap back up to his. “All of it, every single word.”

“I’ve got like half a notebook’s worth of stuff like that,” Eddie chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “Is that weird?”

“Far from it,” you tilt your head toward the bar. “I’d love to hear what else you’ve got to say.”

Eddie hovers his hand over the small of your back to guide you through the crowd. “I’ll sweet talk you until the sun comes up, Baby Ghoul. Anything for you.”

Reblogs are greatly encouraged and appreciated! ♡

Consider reading From Bar to Billboard, I worked really fucking hard on it 🖤

★My Masterlist

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[superlarva]

Fives, Tup, and Dogma in a fort!

Soooo sorry about last week, I've been ridiculously busy, but we're back to my usual weekly Sunday updates of Raising Dominoes for the foreseeable future!

Anyways, here is Chapter 8 - Furniture and Forts. It was mostly just an excuse to draw the boys in a blanket fort :)

Prologue: 00 Previous chapter: 07 Next chapter: 09

Summary: Tup and Dogma help Fives set up his new room before a power outage frightens them.

CW: Implied/referenced child abuse, panic attacks, power outages

Chapter 8 - Furniture and Forts

Fives had not been able to fall back asleep after his nightmare, so after Cody left they spent the rest of the morning playing with the toys that Rex had bought the day before. At first Fives seemed to have trouble with the concept of playing. He would just sit in front of the toys staring at them blankly until Rex told him to do something specific with them, at which point he would comply, but after a while he seemed to get the gist of it. He began to make up little scenarios with the action figures and would have them battle each other.

It did not sit well with Rex that fighting seemed to be the only thing his son knew well enough to recreate in play, but Fives did seem to be having fun, so he tried not to intervene. Well, he might have been trying to coax Fives into helping him build a racetrack out of Legos for the matchbox cars, but the boy was too busy bashing the small plastic soldiers together and making blaster noises to notice.

By early afternoon Fives seemed to be running out of energy. The workers also arrived to deliver the boys’ furniture, so Rex turned the TV on to a random cartoon channel and let Fives curl up on the couch and watch it while he helped the guys set up the room.

When they were done the workers left and Rex found Fives still watching the show. He had hoped the boy would have fallen asleep, but he supposed it had probably been a little loud for that.

“Hey, buddy,” Rex sank down on the couch next to Fives.

Fives quickly turned his attention to Rex, television forgotten, “Are they done? Can I see?”

Rex chuckled, “Yep.”

Fives grinned and jumped up. He ran to his new room and stopped in the doorway. Rex joined him.

The furniture was all from the same set, so every piece had the same dark stained wood. It was a little weird to see the room with just furniture and no decorations, but Fives did not seem to mind. The kid was practically trembling with excitement.

Each side of the room had a bed with a bare mattress sitting in the far corner, and a nightstand, desk, dresser, and bookshelf up against the wall. Fives looked up at Rex, “This is really all just for me and Echo?”

“This is your room, yeah.”

“Wow.”

Rex grinned and pushed Fives lightly into the room, “Go on. Pick which side you want.”

Fives looked around the room and took a tentative step forward before looking back to Rex uncertainly.

“It’s okay,” Rex tried to reassure, “Just pick which bed you want to sleep in.”

Fives looked like he was making the hardest decision of his life before stepping over to the bed on the left and turning back to Rex, “This one?”

“Perfect.”

Fives beamed, “Can we-”

He was cut off by the sound of muffled voices:

“No, you have to knock louder, Tup. He’s not gonna hear that.”

The second voice was too soft to hear through the walls, but a loud knock rang through the apartment.

Fives looked up at Rex, his brows drawn together, and a tight frown tugged down the corners of his lips.

“It’s alright, those are my friends,” Rex said, flicking on the light in Fives’s room and motioning for the boy to follow him as he made his way down the hallway towards the door, turning on all the lights as he went. “You remember Hardcase?”

“Y-yeah,” Fives answered.

“These are his little cousins Dogma and Tup. They’re just a bit older than you.”

Fives nodded, but hesitated as they reached the entryway, “Why’d you turn on all the lights?”

“Oh, uh, they don’t like the dark,” Rex said softly, opening the door before Fives could ask why not.

They were met with a scowling preteen with close cropped hair and a boy with longer wavy hair that could have been the other’s twin if he was not a few years younger standing in front of a large box.

It took Rex a second to register, but when he did he grinned, “Thanks. This is your guys’ old stuff?”

The boys nodded.

Rex pulled the container into his apartment, “Awesome. This is great.”

Fives peered out from behind Rex and gave the older boys a small wave. Tup offered a shy smile and inched a bit closer to Dogma, who wrapped his arm around his brother and attempted a smile of his own, but it did not quite reach his eyes.

Dogma craned his neck to see into the apartment, “What were all those people doing?”

“Setting up Fives and Echo’s new room,” Rex said, ruffling Fives’s hair.

Tup’s eyebrows raised in interest. Rex new the look well and smiled at the boy, “If it’s okay with Fives, you guys can check it out. It’s not finished or anything though.”

Tup and Dogma exchanged a glance before looking to Fives.

“It’s okay,” Fives said, shifting a little behind Rex even as the words left his mouth.

Tup smiled and followed Dogma as he made his way into the apartment.

Dogma puffed out his chest and turned to address Fives, “My name is Dogma, I’m twelve years old and 3 months. This is my brother Tup. He’s ten.”

Fives’s large brown eyes darted between the boys, “I’m Fives.”

Dogma and Tup stayed to help unpack and decorate the bedroom. Dogma was helping Rex make the beds and the younger boys were putting Tup’s hand-me-downs in the dresser. Fives pulled out a shirt and passed it to Tup, “Echo.”

Tup hesitated, “Are you sure? You’re giving way more clothes to Echo than to yourself.” Fives shrugged, “That shirt is red. Echo likes red.”

Rex looked over to the dresser and saw that Echo’s was full and Fives’s practically empty, “Tup’s right, Fives. You need clothes to wear too. Why don’t you start putting more things in your dresser.”

Fives’s eyebrows pushed together, and he looked down into the box of clothes, “But- but what if Echo wants them?”

Rex shrugged, “When Echo gets home you guys can trade if you want, but for now you need to give yourself more clothes.”

Fives still looked a little confused and when Tup moved to place the red shirt in his dresser rather than Echo’s, he shook his head.

Tup froze, looking from Fives to the dresser to Rex, who was busy tucking in sheets. Dogma had been listening to the exchange while making Fives’s bed and looked up at the silence. He caught on quick and scowled at Fives, “Rex said-”

“But Echo would really like that shirt!” Fives interrupted, voice hitting a whiney pitch.

Dogma’s scowl deepened and Tup looked like he would rather be anywhere than caught in this crossfire.

Rex looked over and was about to say something, but Fives beat him to it, “I-I’ll take the rest of them, just- just Echo would really like that one.”

“But-” Dogma started, confusion replacing his scowl.

“It’s fine,” Rex interjected, he had heard the panic in Fives’s voice, and he did not want to make it any worse.

Dogma opened his mouth to say something.

“It’s fine, Dogma,” Rex repeated with a bit more force.

Dogma mumbled out a quiet apology and turned back to Fives’s bed, his ears turning red.

“Tup, why don’t you put that one in Echo’s drawer,” Rex nodded to the red tee still clutched in Tup’s hand. The boy obliged and Rex continued, “But the rest go to Fives, okay?”

Fives nodded seriously.

With four sets of helping hands, they were able to finish setting up the room fairly quickly. After learning that Jesse was out taking Hardcase to his drum lesson and Kix had picked up an extra shift at the hospital (which Rex could not help but feel responsible for), Rex insisted on Dogma and Tup staying for dinner. The boys did not complain.

While they were eating Dogma suddenly pointed out the window, “Hey, it’s snowing!”

“Really?” Tup jumped up and ran to the window.

Fives joined Tup, “Whoa, it’s so fluffy.”

Dogma’s eyes darted between his plate and the window, clearly debating something. Rex felt an odd pang in his chest at how hard this decision seemed to be for the kid. He smiled gently, “You can go take a closer look.”

Dogma’s eyes snapped to his, “But we’re eating?”

“The food will still be here after you take a look.”

“Come on, Dogma!” Tup exclaimed, unable to hide his excitement.

Dogma slowly and a little rigidly got up from the table and made his way over to his brother, glancing back uncertainly at Rex every few feet.

Rex nodded encouragingly. He had known Dogma and Tup ever since Kix had taken them in six years ago. The boys had been scared and nervous and so afraid of the dark that they refused to sleep until they all but collapsed. As the years went on, they acclimated to their new environment as well as one could expect, but Tup was still a shy bundle of worry and Dogma was still overly compliant to what he believed the “rules” were. And they were both still scared of the dark.

“It’s windy,” Fives noted.

“Really windy,” Dogma breathed, sounding lost in thought.

Tup turned from the window to look at Rex, his face scrunched up with worry, “Do you think the power’s gonna go out?”

Rex shook his head, “Probably not.”

Tup turned back to the window and Rex grimaced; he could hear the wind howling outside.

The boys had taken to playing in the twins’ room after dinner while Rex cleaned up. From what he could hear in the kitchen, it sounded like Dogma was teaching Fives some sort of card game. Rex smiled; he was glad they were getting along.

As soon as he finished scrubbing the last dish, the lights flickered in the apartment. Rex dropped the plate back into the sink and ran to the bedroom.

Dogma sat cross legged on the floor in front of a game of palace, back stiff as a board, eyes wide and focused on a space just in front of Rex. Tup had thrown himself over his older brother and was clinging to him, eyes just as wide and filled with terror.

Fives’s back was to Rex, and he turned, a frown tugging down the corners of his lips, “What-”

Just then the lights went out and they were plunged into darkness.

Rex moved quickly, scooping up Tup and pulling him into his lap, just as he had seen Kix do a million times before. The boy was already hyperventilating, his small chest rising and falling quickly with each shallow, ragged breath. Rex pulled his hand through Tup’s wavy hair, and exaggerated his breathing in the hopes that Tup would feel it and it would help him regulate his own.

“You’re safe, Tup. It’s me, Rex. You’re in my apartment.”

Tup clung to Rex a little tighter, but his breathing remained quick and shallow.

Rex turned to Fives, whose outline he could see in the dim light from the window, “Fives, there’s a flashlight on my nightstand in my room. Do you think you could get it for me?”

Fives made an affirmative noise and scurried into the darkness.

“How are you doing, Dogma?” Rex asked, turning his attention to the older boy for a moment.

Dogma did not respond, so Rex pulled him in close to his side, “I got you, you’re safe.” Dogma rested his head against Rex’s shoulder and trembled, speaking softly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to.”

Rex felt hot tears seeping into his shirt and could not help but feel like he was in way over his head. He had no idea what Dogma was apologizing for, but he supposed that did not matter.

“I know,” Rex said gently, even though did not, “It’s alright.”

Fives reappeared with the flashlight in hand and passed it to Rex. Rex switched it on immediately and it flickered to life, bathing the room in a golden light. He felt Dogma relax a bit beside him and gave the sniffling boy a quick squeeze before turning his attention back to Tup.

Tup was still in the throws of a panic attack and clung to Rex with a force and determination he did not know the ten-year-old had. Rex gently pried one of Tup’s hand off him and pressed the flashlight into it, “Here, have the light.”

Tup clutched the flashlight and slumped against Rex, his breaths erratic as he struggled to calm down.

“Breath with me, Tup. In,” Rex took a deep breath in before letting it out slowly, “Out.”

Rex kept inhaling and exhaling with Tup and eventually got the boy to slow his breathing. All the fight left Tup’s body and he slumped weakly against Rex.

“You want me to call Kix?” Rex asked gently.

Tup shook his head.

“Jesse?”

“No.”

“It wouldn’t be a bother.”

“No. I’m- I’m okay now,” Tup said shakily.

Rex frowned, Tup was far from okay, “You’ll stay here until Kix or Jesse get home.”

Tup nodded against him.

“Um, excuse me, sir?” Fives pipped up from the doorway of his bedroom where he had watched the scene unfold.

“Yes, little soldier?” Rex said the joking nickname coming automatically.

“Can we build a fort?”

“Like a blanket fort?” Rex asked, a little surprised Fives even knew what that was.

Fives nodded, “When we were scared like this, we would hide in a fort.”

“Yeah,” Rex said slowly, wondering how many times the twins had been “scared like this.”

Fives grinned and turned to Dogma, “Dogma, there are extra blankets in the closet in the hallway. We need three.”

The preteen sniffled and wiped his face, but got up and swiftly made his way out of the room, following the orders like his life depended on it.

Once Dogma had his mission, Fives sat down next to Tup—who was curled up in Rex’s lap and did not seem like he planned on leaving anytime soon—and explained his architectural vision for the fort. The plan distracted Tup from the power outage and Rex had to admit that there was no way he could have handled the situation better than his seven-year-old son currently was.

Dogma returned from the dimly lit hallway quickly and handed the blankets over to Fives.

The construction of the fort was left mostly to Fives and Dogma, but Tup did seem to be taking an interest in it. Rex nudged the boy in his lap as the other two finished up the fort and began crawling around in it, “Want to play with Dogma and Fives?”

Tup hesitated, “Can I keep the flashlight?”

“Of course,” Rex nodded, giving the kid a gentle push towards the others.

Tup crawled over to join his brother and Fives, who were now talking enthusiastically about “defense systems” they could put in place to fortify their creation.

Rex could have sworn he even saw Dogma smiling.

@marierg @stressed-cherry @ffdemon @renton6echo @bambambunny @tearfulsolace @rndmpeep @brokenphoenix99 @nerdy-valkyrie @xylionet @tazmbc1 @eyayah123 @the-bad-batch-baroness @sarcastic-nebula @ihaventpickedausername @sexysmeagolshitposting @emma-1409

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 21 - My Fair Lady

📜 Merry Christmas, you filthy animals! 😏😂

❗️+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, mentions of an original child character, reunions, sexual themes (I mean smut, so get out of here if you ain't +18, I mean it!!!), they finally do it! (first times, nakedness, sex, all that jazz --> So yes, that is a spoiler!).

#10k words (this one is long, and I'm not apologizing for it, LOL)

Part 20 | Masterlist | Part 22

With Sadie away at camp, you finally got the time and the opportunity to surprise her and redo your guest room into her room.

The house was a mess. Boxes of new furniture waiting to be built: a desk, a bookcase, a new bedframe. Her mattress slanted against the hallway. Old white sheets covered every inch of the floor and things that could not be moved.

You'd taken the shade off one of the bedside table lamps and stuck it in the corner of the room, its soft, warm light guiding you as you stood on a ladder, carefully stroking a painter's brush covered in green paint just below the edge of the ceiling, balancing the paint bucket on the top step.

The problem you had with projects like these was that you didn't really know when to stop. Staring when it was still light out, nothing but music playing softly through the speakers from your vinyl player, it was well past 2 AM before you knew it.

At least this passion project was one of the few things keeping you from obsessively worrying about Jake. And Bradley.

The static noise popping through your speakers was a welcome relief for your neck. With one last paint stroke, you climbed down the ladder, picturing your records and what one you could put on next. You bit your lip, reaching up to grab the bucket and the lid from the top step, covering it and hitting it closed with a thump.

You knelt next to the crate, searching for the record you had in mind when a persistent knock at your front door startled you. You weren't expecting anyone, let alone in the witching hours of the early morning.

Everything that happened with Tyler left you weary. Every white car you passed on the street made your skin crawl, and when Penny finally re-opened the Hard Deck and you returned to work, each time the door swung open in a dramatic fashion, you half expected to see Tyler standing there, a predatory glare in his eyes.

People also had a habit of knocking on your door late at night to deliver bad news. But something told you you needed to answer it anyway.

You slowly tip-toed down your hallway, plastering yourself to the wall, hoping to stay out of sight of whoever knocked on your door before peering through the peephole. Shocked to see the person pacing back and forth along your front porch, you whipped the door open.

"Alyssa?"

She stopped pacing, twisting her body towards the sound of your voice.

As long as you knew her, Lyssa had never once cried in front of you or came close to being visibly upset. She was direct, used humour in the most inappropriate moments, and always played things close to the chest. To see her face, beat red and tears streaming down her face, you couldn't help your unease.

Something had to be seriously wrong.

"Is Will okay?" you asked her.  "What's' wrong?"

She shook her head, stepping in front of you. "Um, no, he's okay. We need to get down to Top Gun. Now."

"Top Gun? It's almost three in the morning."

She shook her head again. "Will's father got word an aircraft carrier got caught in a hurricane somewhere overseas. It sunk. They're bringing in the survivors now."

Heart dropping into your stomach, your legs wobbled. You fell against your door frame, hands gripping the wood tight enough to hurt. Your throat was screaming at you, and you couldn't swallow. 

There was only one other time you could compare to how you were feeling now.

Friday nights were the worst fucking days of your life.

"Please don't tell me..." you croaked. "Please don't tell me it was theirs."

You gripped Jake's dog tags tight as you caught her harsh gulp, her face remaining stark. She didn't say anything. Not that she needed to. The very fact she was on your doorstep told you everything you needed to know.

She wouldn't have come to get you otherwise.

"Come on, we need to go," she managed to say through a harsh swallow.

You don't know how you managed to loosen your grip on your door frame or how you laced your shoes without screwing up the knots. Or how you got your key in the lock with your shakey hand.

You don't know how you got into the passenger seat of Alyssa's car, either. Or how you managed to put your seat belt on or not throw up as she sped out of your driveway and down to the highway.

A small part of you whithers when you realize you wouldn't have known, wouldn't have been here, hadn't Alyssa's Ex caught wind of it. Nat, Bob, and the rest of the daggers would have, too, eventually, but they probably wouldn't have been informed until it was too late.

You don't even know what's waiting for you at Top Gun, whether both Jake and Bradley were or weren't there. Or only one of them. Or if they would even let you in.

The gates were open to the facility when the two of you arrived. Lyssa followed several cars that were already pulling into the winding entrance, the line starting to build as more and more started to appear from the opposite direction. You leaned forward in your seat as she pulled into the parking lot, your heart in your throat as you tried to see behind the building to the runway. All you saw were blinking red and white lights against the night sky.

Alyssa hadn't even moved the parking brake when you threw yourself out of her car, not bothering to wait for her. The cool night wind bit at your face as you searched the building, looking for any indication they were letting people in. You spied a group of people charging across the parking lot to an open side door, someone in dress kaki's manning it. You followed them, skidding across the pavement as you reached the door, trying not to run anyone over and barrel through the crowd.

Cyclone saw you before you saw him, shouting out your full name amongst the chaos to urge you to the front to let you in with the next group. The words spill out of your mouth before you realize you're saying them. "Do you know if...?"

He shook his head. "If they did, they'll be on the next plane that came in."

A million thoughts skitter through your mind, like spiders across a floor, yet you push them aside.

"I have a friend, Lyssa. Let her in next."

He nodded without complaint, knocking hard on the door to let the group in.

Whether it was the threat of being yelled at for running or that they were inside the famous Navy facility, nobody moved quicker than a brisque walk.

You'd take on any military officer who would dare yell at you for the way you tried to weave in and out of the throngs of people.

The hallway you were guided down led to a hanger. The space had been turned into a temporary relief centre, with tables, cots, and supplies filling every inch. Medics were already helping a few of the officers who looked worse for wear, and dread filled you each time you spun, another injured officer upon another.

You weren't sure you were relieved or scared with each face you saw. Whatever they had to go through to get here, one thing was for certain. They had to do so in a rush.

You halted when you spotted the large military-like plane Cyclone spoke about sitting on the runway in the distance, viewable from the wide open door. Whether it had been there before or it had just arrived, you didn't know. Nor did you question it any further. The only thing that mattered was if Jake and Bradley were on that plane.

But with each group of people that passed, there was no sign of them.

Alyssa finally caught up to you, grabbing your arms from behind and tugging you backwards. "Liz," she started to say, but you tore out of her grasp.

"We didn't have time. We didn't have time," you said repeatedly, threading your fingers through your hair next to your temples. Alyssa reached out again, this time turning you by your raised elbows as you continued to force yourself to breathe. She pushed, and you slowly lost your hold on your roots, lowering your arms until she was grasping at your hands.

"I didn't want to tell him I loved him over a letter. I didn't want our last words to each other to be over a piece of paper," you cried out, trying to tug away. She didn't let go, her grip tight. It made you sob harder.

"I can't go through this again! Not with them, not with him. Not after everything Sadie and I have ever suffered through. It's too much, Alyssa!" you were on the verge of screaming. "We've been through enough!"

Lyssa opened her mouth, words just barely sounding out before her eyes locked on to something behind you. She gasped, and you twisted sharply, watery eyes searching a new crowd of officers making their way off the tarmac and into the hanger. You squinted your eyes, the night sky and the bright white lights from inside making it harder to make out faces.

A cluster of Navy officers broke off from the crowd, parting the way.

Then you saw them.

Both of them.

Jake was favouring a leg as he leaned against Bradley for support, hobbling along as they finally reached the entrance to the hanger, searching for a temporary cot. Even at a distance, you could make out a cut framing his eye, and one side of his face was bruised.

But he was here. He was whole.

He was alive.

You couldn't help it. You charged forward, no feeling in your legs as you zoomed past other families and officers, probably a few high-ranking officials in your paint-smattered shirt and overalls. Time slowed down for you as you ran, even if you were running as if your life depended on it.

"JAKE!"

Jake lifted his head at the sound of your voice, urging Bradley to stop. Bradley looked at him funny, watching his eyes glaze over and wondering if Jake hit his head harder than the medics originally thought. But then he followed his gaze, only to see you charging forward without a care in the world to reach him, and he knew.

Bradley unhooked his arm from around Jake's shoulders, steadying him for a second and then letting go, stepping to the side so you could have your moment.

You slid along the floor as you came to a halt in front of Jake, worried he was more damaged than you could see, arms reaching for him. Jake bracketed his arms tightly around your back the second you touched him, and you buried your face into his shoulder. He grunted as he pulled you tight, shoving his nose into your collarbone.

Jake smelt of the sea, of gasoline and sweat. His flight suit felt ripped under your hands as you tried to find a grip. Or maybe you were trying to assure yourself he was really there. Your mind flashed through all the possible things he might have gone through with each caress, your cries getting louder with each one.

Yet in your panic, you pulled back from his hug, only to take his face into your hands and kiss him hard.

"I love you," you gasped out between kisses. "I'm not getting you go. I'm here. I love you, I love you, I love you."

Jake's response was instant, fingers quickly gripping the back of your neck, the roots of your hair, to drive your head at all the angles he wanted, all the ways that made it easier for him to devour you.

You felt like you couldn't breathe, pulling away from his lips with a tightness in your chest. Your eyes fell on his lips, red and slightly swollen, and you were positive yours were the same. Until you looked up at those green eyes and the rest of the hanger, everyone else, faded away.

Jake smiled at you.

"Hi, Darlin.'"

You huffed a sad laugh through your tears, letting yourself fall into his body, hiding your face in his chest, sobbing.

Jake didn't let the grip on your neck go, curving his hand against the skin, holding you to him. His other arm, at some point, had dropped down to your waist. Whether it was to keep himself upright or keep you from falling over, he wasn't sure. Nor did he really care. Because Jake was pressing his mouth into your hair and closing his eyes to relish the feel of you in his arms.

He was home.

You turned your head against his chest to look over at Bradley, slightly surprised to see him hugging Alyssa. Her forehead was leaning against her hands, currently shaped into a triangle against his chest. She was shaking with silent sobs as Bradley hugged her back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

The panic you felt before settles in your chest, warmth wrapping around your rib cage. As if he felt your eyes on him, Bradley opened his eyes, resting his cheek atop her head. You reached out, Bradley instantly extending his arm to grasp your hand. You smiled sadly at him with a fresh wave of tears in your eyes, squeezing his hand before burying your head back into Jake's chest, not once letting go.

Feeling you move against him, Jake lifted his head, catching your hand holding Bradley's. He found Bradley looking at the two of you with a smile, in a similar position, with Alyssa wrapped around him.

"Is there something you want to tell us, Rooster?" he said, eyes gesturing to Alyssa. You shook with silent laughter against his chest.

Bradley smiled at you, at Jake, before closing his eyes and letting his lips graze Alyssa's forehead. "Is that any way to speak to your saviour?"

There was no malice in Jake's words when he dropped his head back down to press a kiss into your hair, flippantly shooting back, "Don't push it, Bradshaw. I'm still ahead by one."

---

The ride home had been quiet.

After some harsh convincing by you and Alyssa, Jake and Bradley were allowed to leave. You had gotten the run down by one of the medical officers about Jake. He had no concussion and no broken bones but had ended up with quite a large amount of water in his lungs and a significant amount of bruising the days before.

You caught snippets of Rooster's conversation with the medics, enough to know what happened. You didn't want to know the deeper details unless Jake wanted to talk to you about it. Knowing he almost drowned and Bradley had saved him was enough.

He wasn't at risk of a secondary drowning, but more so pneumonia or an Edema. You'd be calling an ambulance at the first sign of a cough.

Bradley was helping Jake up the steps of your front porch as you went ahead and unlocked your door. Lyssa spotted Jake from below, hands out and ready. Despite her tiny frame, she was there, ready to catch him should he need help.

You were quietly surprised to see Bradley being the one to help Jake. You knew it wouldn't have been easy for either of them: Jake, who didn't want to need to accept the help at all, and Bradley, for whom he was helping.

But once Jake cleared the last step and straightened himself, he patted Bradley on the shoulder, murmuring a 'Thanks, Rooster' before limping over to you.

You looked up at him with a smile, cocking the side of your head in Bradley's direction before saying, "I'll meet you inside?"

Jake nodded, then nodded once to Rooster before continuing inside. Lyssa had walked off back to her car around the same time, leaving only you and Bradley standing alone on your porch. You pulled him into a hug.

"Thank you, Bradley. For saving his life."

Rooster stiffened at your touch but slowly relaxed, arms coming up to wrap around your back. "I know it's not worth much, but I'm truly sorry Lizzie," he murmured. "For all of it."

You shook your head against his shoulder, murmuring a low "Don't," but Bradley pressed on.

"I've been an ass since the start. I've been the one doing all the things I said Jake would do," he said next to your ear, refusing to let you go. "I think I was more worried about being replaced.. and everything else... I just didn't want to see you and the bug getting hurt. The rule was to put Sadie first. Instead, I was the one doing all that. He really does care about the two of you despite some of his faults."

You pulled back from the hug but still left your hand on his shoulder, wiping at your eyes. "Can I ask what made you change your mind?"

Bradley gave a fond look, and you could only stare at him for a second before a smile shot across your face. "Sadie?"

You had wondered what she had scribbled in that letter. She was shifty about it, too, refusing to let you see anything anytime you walked by.

Something told you you'd never know.

Rooster grinned. "Yeah," he said, scratching the back of his head. "Her and the fact, this one saved me yet again. Then gave me a heart attack."

You smiled, looking back at your open door. "I'd like to think he was giving you the chance to make it up to us."

Bradley dropped his chin to his chest, still smiling, before he looked over to Alyssa, leaning against the driver's side of her car.

"Call me if you need help?" he offered, stepping forward to place a hand on your forearm before turning to proceed down your front steps.

"I think we'll be okay," you replied softly, not really caring if he heard you, still staring at your front door.

--- 

 The tension inside the house hit you like a wave the second you closed the door. It was just Jake and you now, and despite everything that transpired the past few hours, you felt nervous. 

Looking down, you spied Jake's boots neatly lined up next to some of yours, making you wonder how he managed to get them off. It made you undo your laces slowly, tactically, as if to stall time. 

Something about standing here made everything more real. 

There was also the bit about you sending him that partial nude. And that letter - which you weren't as concerned about. But that damn photo, all inspired by a moment of brevity, had you yelling to yourself, what the hell did I just do? when you dropped it off at Penny's.

You couldn't worry about the shame currently building in the pit of your stomach. You had to press on.

Jake was hurt. He needed you. 

“Jake?” you called out softly, not expecting to find him hunched over, leaning against the wall of your hallway, facing you. You held out your hands, ready to grab him and support him. That was until he sharply lifted his head, eyes the only thing you could truly make out in the dim lighting, the dawn just peeking through your windows. You froze, lowering them, your voice stuck in your throat. Those eyes were challenging you to move, daring you to escape, to make a sound in the dead silence that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. With the predatory glint in his eyes, you knew right away what he wanted to talk about. 

Yet, Jake is the one to break the silence first.

"Where's Sadie?"

"Camp."

You feel like you've just given him the green light for something with those words. He seemed to know it, too.

"What can I do to help you?" the question comes out more quietly than you were anticipating.

Jake straightens himself with a groan but doesn't remove his eyes from you. On the contrary, they are still sharp and as intense as when he first saw you.

"Liz," he spoke lowly. 

He takes a step forward. You take one back. 

"I think you know the answer to that." 

"Do I?" you breathe out, taking another step, and he stalks forward as much as he is able. 

He nods once. "I got your letter. And your photo."

Your back hits the wall - you can go no further. 

It's not as if you couldn't escape him or tell him to stop. Jake is pinning you with his eyes as he approaches you and cages you against the wall. You know if you told him to stop, that all this was too much, he'd back away. 

You don't want him to, though. 

"Darlin," he roughs out, a hand reaching for your hip, his mouth next to your ear. "I've thought of nothing else."

Your trembling, heaving though no sound is coming out. You knew Jake was tall, muscled, and built like a freaking horse. It's stupid how the thought crosses your mind once again. You feel small against him, pressed up against the wall. 

"I take it you liked it?" 

You have no idea where this courage is coming from. 

"Liked it?" he pressed a kiss on your neck below your ear. "I got hard just looking at it." 

You title your head back against the wall; eyes closed, an arm coming up to wrap around his neck as Jake continues to press small kisses into your skin, slowly starting to add his teeth. An arm shoots around your waist, tugging you into him, and you gasp, racking up the wall with the movement. 

"Jake," you gasped to the ceiling, digging your fingers into his hair. He winced against your neck with a groan, pausing. You wondered if you had accidentally injured him more. Because as much as Jake was desperately trying to merge himself into your skin, as much as he was trying to show you just how much he loved you, how much he wanted you, he was utterly exhausted.

And he was hurt.

"There's nothing more I want than to be with you right now," you said calmly, stroking the hair at the back of his neck, sobering the moment. "But you're exhausted. And hurt, Jake. When was the last time you slept? "

Jake sighed into your neck, weight sagging with him, "Only a few minutes on the flight home. Not sure when before that."

It was true. Bradley had managed to resurface with him strung across his back, carrying Jake the rest of the way up that stairwell. His memory was fractured into bits and pieces of moments when he opened his eyes. Him being carried on a stretcher, Rooster sitting next to him in a med tent, voices yelling, and people poking and prodding at him. The flight home was when he really started to get his memory back, but he didn't dare fall back asleep, wondering if it had all been a dream and he really did die back there.

You frowned. "Let me take care of you, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

Pressing a long kiss on his cheek, you carefully untangled yourself from his hold, sliding down the wall. Hooking your arm around his waist, you led him down your hall to your bathroom. Jake's grip on your body was anchored tight. Hand threaded through the opposite pocket of your overalls, a part of him always touching you.

Leaving him to lean against your bathroom counter, you spun to turn on the shower, ensuring the water was okay before coming to stand in front of him once more. Resting your hands on his chest, you toyed with the zipper of his damaged flight suit.

"Do you need help?" you asked him softly.

He knew he could manage without you, even with his back being out of sorts. Yet, he still softly replied, "Go ahead."

You ranked your eyes over the fabric as you pulled down the tab of his zipper. His suit was ripped in some places, and large chunks were torn out, revealing the black tank he was wearing underneath. The zippers of the side pockets were misaligned, and while both of his patches were still intact, the threads were sticking out around the borders, making them unusable.

You made a note in the back of your mind to steal them the second you could.

Once the zipper reached the end, you moved both of your hands down to his chest, taking both sides and pushing the fabric off his shoulders.

Yet you stilled when you felt something hard in one of the pockets, instantly unfolding the fabric and unzipping the pocket, Jake watching you with hooded eyes. You pulled out a water-tight bag, gasping when you saw your letter and the various polaroids through the clear material.

"You.. You saved them?"

Jake let go of your hips to shrug the piece of clothing off, freeing his arms. He placed one hand on your hip, the other taking the bag from you, holding them.

"Why wouldn't I?" Jake's voice was quiet.

You felt a lump in your throat, tracing the bag in his hands. You were curious to know which one is the cockpit photo, but you also know your spontaneous, risky shot is also in with them. It's not that you didn't regret it, nor did Jake's enthusiastic reaction deter you, but you still felt that little bit of shame and embarrassment knowing the physical proof still existed.

"I... I didn't think they would mean that much to you. It was just a thing Sadie and I did so you wouldn't feel left out," you admitted, feeling vulnerable.

"They were all I had of you and Sadie out there."

It guts you, the simplicity of such a statement, yet packed with so much meaning.

Jake placed the bag behind him on the counter, ready to resume his grip on your body. Except his eyes caught sight of the pieces of metal dangling over the front of your chest, and he reached out to take his Dog Tags into the palm of his hand.

"You're wearing them."

You followed the chain to stare at the two pieces of metal. Your reply was soft, "I rarely took them off."

He didn't need to know about your breakdown. Not yet. You had said enough in your letter for him to know you had done what you needed to do, but he didn't need to know about the events that led up to it.

That was a conversation for another day.

Jake sighed, letting them drop back down in between the two of you, hand curving around your hip and pressing his forehead to yours. The two of you stayed like that for a few seconds until you felt him fiddling with the clasp on your hip, never fully releasing it from its hold.

He didn't need to voice it for you to know the question behind the action. It was clear as day as to what he was asking of you.

Will you join me?

Remember all those times over the past year you told yourself to fuck it? This was definitely getting added to all those other times.

Because you found yourself reaching down to your side and finishing the job, releasing the button from his hold. You felt Jake's breath against your mouth, warm and wet, as he slid his hand up to one of the front clasps, popping the buttons out of the hooks as he tugged, repeating the process with the other.

The two straps fell down your back, and you held your arms up in a silent invitation. Jake seemed to hold his breath as he pulled at your battered shirt, up over your head, to reveal your bare breasts.

He tossed your shirt to the side in the general direction of your laundry basket, but you didn't take your eyes off his to find out if it hit its mark. You feel no shame as he dropped his gaze. He's seen them before, kissed them, touched them. But the way his eyes rake over them makes it seem like it's the first time he has.

But when you reach for his black tank, pulling at the hem to work it over his body, you catch the view of his back in your mirror and let out a terrifying gasp.

His back is one big purple bruise, marring his skin. It spread from the curve of his right shoulder blade, sinking its way across his spine and ending near his hip. The only comparison you could draw to it was a painter's palette of cool colours mixed in with black. Whatever he had hit, it was clear the impact had been severe.

"Jake," you cry out, stepping to the side so you can turn him and see the damage for yourself, not in some reflection.

"How bad is it? The medics told me it's there."

"It's not pretty." 

It was the most accurate statement you could give him without wanting to double or even triple-check the work of the medics on him. He let you investigate the bruised skin for a few seconds more before moving out of your grasp and facing you. 

"Come on," he uttered. "Let's get under the water." 

You quickly removed the rest of your clothing, letting the rest of your overalls and underwear fall to the floor, using your toes to work off your socks. Jake managed to get the remainder of his flight suit off with little struggle, boxers included. 

You weren't ashamed of your body. But you were a little apprehensive, letting Jake see everything in its entirety. It makes you step into the shower first, almost as if you were trying to run away. 

All this is new to you. And the internal battle currently raging on in your head was making you hesitant. Because even standing here, naked in your shower, Jake's eyes ranking over you like you were his last meal from behind the glass door, you still fought with yourself not to look at him.

But let's be real. You were a virgin, new to all of this.

You definitely looked.

And tried to mute the squeal that was trying to crawl its way out of your throat as you turned to let the running water hit your face. You could hear Jake's warm chuckle from behind you as he stepped into the boxed space.

"Like what you see?" he spoke lowly into your ear, dragging your back to rest against his front by your elbows.

"I'm not going to answer that question. 'Cause we both know if I do, it's going to lead to something."

You could feel all his ridges and sharply defined muscles against your back, and it took you everything not to mould yourself into him. Jake pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then another to your neck, before resting his cheek against yours. "And what would that be?"

"Jake..." you warned, your voice slightly shakey.

"Not tonight," he replied, dragging his hands up your arms. "I just wanted to see how far that blush of yours goes."

"Oh, you kinky.." but he didn't let you finish, catching your mouth in an opened-mouth kiss. You moaned, tilting your head back before turning to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You released his lips to glaze up into his eyes, taking the moment to assure yourself yet again he was here with you. You matched his soft smile before he zoned in on your cheek, reaching up to thumb the skin. His face was hardened in concentration, no doubt rubbing at a stroke of paint you'd accidentally marked yourself with, working to get it off. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his wrist.

"What's this from?"

"I'm painting Sadie's room, trying to make it more hers as a Birthday gift."  

Jake hummed. 

The two of you continued to shower together, you mostly helping Jake. You tried not to get too caught up in staring at him, biting your lip in concretion as you rubbed body wash over him. You felt his eyes on your face the entire time, and you tried to resist the urge to lean up and kiss him. 

Jake made you spin around to face the showerhead to return the favour. Feeling his hands caress your skin, letting him work the soap under the swells of your breast, along your arms, even down the panel of your stomach, you had to fight the arousal pooling in between your legs. 

Not to mention, you could feel him growing hard and heavy against your lower back. 

"This isn't fair. I'm the one who's supposed to be taking care of you," you murmured, leaning your head back against his shoulder.  

He pressed a delicate kiss to your collarbone. "This is taking care of me." 

You ended up getting out first, picking up each of your discarded clothing, throwing them in the basket, and reaching for the towels you kept on the makeshift shelf on your wall as Jake finished with his hair. You saw the frown on his face when he stepped out, and you rolled your eyes affectionately at him, handing him a towel.

Helping him to your room, you left him to sit on the corner of your bed. You rummaged through your top drawer, pulling out the pair of his boxers you had accidentally missed when you packed up his bag. You found them on the day you were getting things ready to visit Ridley.

He took them without a word while you pulled on your sleep shirt and underwear, ironically the same baggy nightshirt you wore the night of that damn thunderstorm where he kissed you.

Climbing into your bed, you held up your comforter as an invitation. He fell face-first into your chest with an aching groan, grabbing your sides to pull himself half on top of you, his head finding a home in the crook of your neck.

Your suspicions from before are finally confirmed. Because even as he held you, Jake was desperately fighting sleep.

Pressing a delicate kiss to the cut on his cheek, you grazed your lips up until you could press them just below his hairline, your fingers threading themselves soothingly through his hair.

"Go to sleep," you whispered into his forehead. "I'll be here when you wake up."

---

You slowly awoke to the sensation of lips delicately pressing soft kisses into your forehead and fingers stroking along the back of your arm, the occasional touch of warm metal accompanying the touch. You mewled, curling yourself deep into the apex of his shoulder, lulled by sleep.

"I'm sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep."

You pressed a sleepy kiss to his bare chest. "I should be awake. I'd sleep the day away like this if I could."

Jake hummed, resuming his gentle caresses. He had raked down your sleep shirt along your back, fingers now dragging up and down your spine, getting lower and lower each time he did it, causing you to shiver.

"I had a dream like this. While I was away on the carrier," he spoke, pressing another kiss to your temple. "At the ranch in Texas. In my room above the barn."

"Tell me?" you yawned, still half asleep, warm and content.

Jake nosed into your cheek, trailing it over your skin as he spoke, "The two of us. In my bed. Naked."

You shook silently with laughter, turning your head back against his arm. "Of course you did."

You would have seen Jake smiling down at you had you decided to open your eyes.

"I'd dream I woke up with your back to me, sheets resting low on the curve of your back." He slid the back of his fingers across your exposed shoulder, getting lost in the image in his head. "The barn door was open, catching the first rays of sunlight in your hair. There must have been a storm cause the grass was so green, everything was so right."

You leaned away from his chest, resting your head further back on his arm to peer up at his face. Jake's hair is dishevelled, his eyes harbouring the remnants of sleep, worn and puffy. His bruise had already begun to yellow, and his cut didn't appear red or as swollen. Yet, looking up at him from within the safety of his arms, huddled against his massive chest, you find yourself wishing you could control the way air catches in your throat.

"Sounds perfect."

Jake smiled softly, leaning down to kiss you. You moan in protest, turning your head away and barely managing an "I have morning breath" to Jake as his lips land on your cheek.

"I don't care," he rasped into your ear. You turned your head back, and he placed his mouth on yours.

You give as much as he is giving you, letting Jake caress your tongue with his, letting him take and take at his pleasure, until he is releasing your mouth and mouthing across your cheek.

He’s taking his time with you, something so different from the previous times you've found yourself against or under him, at the mercy of his mouth and hands. There's hesitation in his movements, wary of making any sudden, intense movements that might have you bolt. 

"You're taking your time," you say aloud, carting your fingers through his hair. Jake laps gently at the corner of your neck, hand stroking down the side of your leg. He pulls back to stare at your face, you meeting his gaze.

"I almost didn't have time."

God, you know how true that statement is. And the fact, the Jake who left you standing at the end of your driveway all those weeks ago wasn't the exact same one who returned to you. 

Jake travels down the length of your body, and you let him push up your oversized shirt, revealing your breasts. "Hello, girls," he grinned, pressing a single kiss to each breast. "Oh, how I've missed you."

It makes you laugh, carting your fingers through his hair, messing it up even further. You can feel him smile against your skin. But then he is trailing his nose down your core, down your stomach, lightly grazing your skin with his lips as he goes. You watch him with careful eyes, your breath picking up quickly.

You know his intentions, where this is going, what it would evidently end up being. And you’re okay with that. You trust him, and you love him. There wasn’t anyone else you could imagine having your first time with. 

Working himself down to the end of your bed, Jake’s face hovers over your underwear, his eyes searching yours. You nod, reaching down to help him remove them, Jake flinging them behind his head in a dramatic fashion, making you laugh once again.

Until he’s lining up kisses down the inside of your thigh, stopping when he’s just that close to your core. And then he looks up once again. You can hardly see any green in his eyes, just a thin strip on the edge of being overtaken by black.

“Can I put my mouth on you?”

What do you do but stutter an embarrassing reply of, “If you want to.” 

Jake wouldn’t ask if he didn’t want to. You knew that. He even chuckles at your answer teasingly.

“You’re going to have to keep these open if I do,” he says, tapping the back of your thigh. “I’m not going to nearly perish a second time, though what a hell of a way to go.” 

You huff in amusement, tinting your head back against your pillow only to drop your chin to your chest, looking at him between your legs.

“Just be gentle with me, Jake. I’m not…” 

Experienced is the word you leave out, but you know Jake understands you. He always seemed to when it comes to you.

He places both of your legs on his shoulders before reaching up to thread his fingers through yours at your side. He barely has time to punch out the words, “Tell me to stop if it’s too much,” before his nose is parting your folds and he’s swiping his tongue up and down your cunt repeatedly. 

You pull against his hold on your hands at the feeling, wailing and then biting your lip to quiet yourself, muffling your sounds.

Jake lets go of one of your hands to thumb your bottom lip, removing it from your teeth. He lifts his head and says in one breath, “Sadie’s not here, Liz. Let me hear you moan for me.”

And then he’s sucking on your clit, and you can’t hold it in any longer. The noise you let out is practically a scream, and the vibrations from Jake’s moan against your cunt push you that much further. Cause the fact he mentioned her name while headfirst deep between your legs is filthy. 

And the sounds that follow, echoing around your bedroom, are raunchy.  The night Jake kissed you in your hallway, your worries about Sadie hearing both of you come to mind. Because thank God she wasn’t here, or else she’d think Jake was murdering you.

You’d have to work on being quiet if you ever wanted to do this again with Jake once she came back home. 

You felt hot with your shirt racked up around the top of your breasts, gripping the hem to rip it over your head, your back leaping off the bed as far as it could go. Jake glances up, still working his mouth against your cunt to watch, the only remaining piece on your body is his tags.

You buck into his mouth, having no control over your body as he just sucks and sucks and sucks, your grip on his hand getting tighter and tighter, and you’re gripping your comforter to the point your hand throbs from the force. Cause everything burns and feels so good and yet so bad, and you cry to whatever part of you decided you needed to wait to experience this.

But in the back of your head, you know nobody could make you feel the way Jake was making you feel now.

Something snaps, hard, your muscles pulling tant and the cry blaring out into the ceiling of your bedroom is anything but salacious.  And Jake's voice is muffled when he works you through it, chanting, “Good girl, that’s my good girl,” over and over as you chant your hips to chase the feeling.

You are a shaking mess when Jake finally lets go, and slides back up your body, letting his weight settle against your chest, arms threading themselves under your shoulders.

"Was that okay?" 

You don't even have the words to describe how you are feeling. Your eyes are wide, staring up at him, wondering why the hell he'd be asking such a question when he caused you to be in such a state. 

Instead, you lurch up and kiss him hard, your hands gripping the middle of his back, sliding down to slip under the fabric of his boxers. Jake jolts when he feels your hands cupping his ass. 

"Are you sure, darlin'?" he pants, pulling away from you. "Are you sure you want this? With me?"

This was Jake. He wouldn't have you without your consent.

"I only want you."

It's slightly cheesy. But there was no other way you could put it. You couldn't imagine doing this with anyone else. But he challenges you again, asking, "Are you sure you want it to be me?" 

You wanted to smack him for his sheer idiocy right now, bringing up his shitty perception of his self-worth. But you don't want to ruin the mood, and you know where it's coming from deep down. It has nothing to do with you. 

"I do," you say instead, rubbing your nose against his. "I just don't know how to make you feel good, though."

"It's not about me right now."

Except it was. It was about both of you.

"Get on top of me."

The both of you rolled, Jake grabbing your hips as you landed on top of him. You sat up, placing your hands on his chest. The action had you rocking yourself back onto his clothed cock, and Jake let out a moan, hands tightening on your waist to push and pull with your movements.

Leaning down to kiss him once, you followed his jawline, reaching his ear. "You want to know something?" you asked, suddenly emboldened.

"What?" he gasped, nails biting into your skin.

"I've been dying to do this since the first time I saw you on the beach."

You felt the pinch of his nails as you kissed down his neck, making sure to catch a patch of skin between your teeth softly. You continued down his chest until you finally got to your desired place.

The divet.

The perfectly sculpted yet slightly crooked valley that split the entire length of his chest in half. You had a brief moment of panic, a stutter in your heartbeat, when you realized just how forward you, the freaking virgin, were being. Hell, you didn't even know if you were doing any of this right.

All you knew, you had waited long enough.

Spread out beneath you, Jake's body is spread out for you like a personalized meal. You pressed a kiss into his skin first before letting your tongue press deep into that valley and swirl all sorts of patterns across his skin. His eyes nearly bugled out of his head before Jake groaned, chest puffing out and hand fisting into your hair. 

You work your way up, getting ready to take one of his nipples into your mouth, when Jake suddenly shouts and lets out a fevered, "Stop." 

You reel back in shock, scared you overstepped. But Jake only tugged you up by your hips, using you as a counterweight to pull himself to sit against your headboard with a painful groan. He settled you directly against his pelvis, where you can feel just how hard he is through his boxers.

He grips the back of your neck hard and slams his lips into yours. You whimper into the kiss, worried he's using it as a tactic to let you down gently. When he finally releases your lips, you burst out, "I'm sorry, I overstepped. I shouldn't have.." 

Jake grips your throat, thumb resting just barely on your Adam's apple, enough to know it's there. You can feel it with each hard sallow you take, his hand big enough to encompass the entire length and width of your neck. 

"Don't ever apologize for that," he states firmly. "I'm yours to do with what you will. And trust me when I say there is a lot more you can do to me than just a simple kiss on the chest." 

And there's the blush. 

"I told you I'd corrupt your innocent little soul," he smirks, pulling you to his mouth once again.  

The next few moments are filled with long, passionate kisses and heavy touches until Jake is reaching for the hem of his boxers, and you find yourself helping him pull them down, him kicking them off in some unknown direction. 

Unlike this morning, there's no hesitation when you take him in, his cock hard and standing to attention. You regret your reaction to the comment you made about his helmet last year. Cause there was truth behind that one missing letter. 

Jake reaches for you, helping to position you over him before he suddenly freezes.  "Shit," he gasped, pushing you to sit on his thighs. "We don't have anything."

You ducked your head shyly. "We don't need one if you're okay without one. I... I'm on the pill."

"You're on the pill?"

You know what he means behind the question instantly.

"Two months before Penny asked me back. Other reasons, though. Not that I was expecting to get laid at any point in time," you answer him quietly, lifting your head. "You know me, Jake. I don't do one-night stands. I never have."

Jake relaxed under your hold, a small part of him sighing in relief.

"Worried I moved on?" you ask him softly, stroking your finger across his brow.

"You had every right to," he's almost ashamed to admit. You shook your head. "When are you going to get it through that stubborn head of yours that you are worth it, Jake? I love you. I'm not going anywhere."

Jake sighed again, dropping his forehead to your collarbone.

"Besides, you painted a pretty picture in the flatbed of your truck," you tease, quickly reciting the words he had rasped into your ear when his fingers were almost knuckle deep in your cunt. You drop your head forward and whisper into his ear, "The day I can have you gripping my cock?"

Jake growled at your words, reaching for your thigh to properly position you over him. Straddling his waist, you rest on your knees. Jake grabbed his cock, angling it just so as to rub the tip against your cunt slowly. You weren't sure whether he was teasing you or getting you used to a feeling.

Maybe it was a bit of both.

Then his tip caught at your entrance, and you let out a whimper. 

He stops, not doing anything else except letting go of himself to latch onto your other hip. Tilting his head, he places a kiss on the underside of your jaw, breathing in deep.

You understand why Jake had you move on top of him for this. He was letting you control the pace and do what only felt comfortable to you. It warms your heart, even if it is on the verge of jumping out of your chest.

"Take your time, darlin," he encouraged you softly, mouthing at the skin under your collarbone. "I'm here whenever you are ready. And we can stop at any point."

You took a deep breath, finally finding the courage to press yourself down onto him.

Something between a whine and a gasp escaped your lips as you felt the tip of his cock enter you. You had no previous experience to compare this to, but you were sure you weren't supposed to feel this stretched out. Or this full. 

You got about halfway down before you cried out, sightly in pain. Jake's grip tightened on your leg and hip, muscles flexing as he halted you. You're slick, but it's a tight fit. And his breath was just as ragged as yours.

 Sliding the hand that was griping your hip up your back, Jake encompasses the nape of your neck in his hand, tiling your head down so he could take your mouth into an open kiss.

"Jake," you whimpered into his mouth, your nails digging hard into his shoulder. Jake kept a tight rein on his control, but it was a battle he was struggling with. You just felt too good around him.

"Such a good girl for me," he cooed. "Taking my cock." 

"I don't know if I can go any further," you whimper. But Jake is quick to reply, "We don't have to, not if you don't want to. But you're almost there, just a little bit more." 

"Fuck," you whined, tearing yourself away from his mouth to bury your face into his shoulder.  His hand tightened against the nape of your neck, fingers tangling themselves into the roots of your hair. The grip is reassuring and grounding, and you take several deep breaths before you press down once again.

Then, just when you think you can't take anymore, he bottoms out, his hips pressed tightly into yours. 

That's it. You were a virgin no longer. 

And suddenly, with that thought, you felt nervous. Because, of all things, that damn fucking sign in the girl's bathroom of the Hard Deck flashes in your mind.

Jake is experienced. You're not. It was one thing for him to say he didn't mind you were a virgin, but it was something else for him to be the one to change that status. Because every story you've ever read about how men would compare their previous partners to their current one eats away at you.

There was no way you would stack up to the long list of women Jake had bedded, for lack of a better word. But Jake only nuzzled the valley between your breasts, tongue delicately tracing the underside of one while rubbing soothingly down the curve of your spine.

"Perfect," he murmured softly. You can't help yourself when your next words come out more anxiously than teasingly. "Live up to your imagination?"

If Jake caught on, he didn't let you know.

"Better," he groaned. "I don't care if we do anything else. I'm perfectly content to be like this the rest of the day."

He twitches inside you, and you gasp, dropping your mouth to rest against the top of his head. You know what he is doing. He's letting you adjust, letting the pain subside, assuring your anxious thoughts.

"Like this? Me, wrapped around your cock, barely moving," You manage to pant, and he hums against your chest. "What if we have company? Rooster tends to show up unannounced."

"He better not," his growl vibrates off your skin, hand flexing on your thigh in an effort not to thrust. "He should know better than to show up at your door when he knows damn well what we're getting up to."

Jake titles his head to set his teeth into your collarbone in a warning, making you clench involuntarily and whimper. He snarls into your neck, "Don't mention him when I'm inside you. This is not going to end badly, not for your first time."

The heat laced in his voice did nothing to stop the small chuckle that racked your chest. Your muscles pull tight across your stomach, and you choke, "Are you trying to make me combust?"

"Is it working?" 

Jake doesn't move. Not at first. Not until you decide to test the waters and flex your hips once, rocking yourself on his cock ever so slightly. 

Your mouth is resting open against his forehead, and your nails are biting into his shoulders as you moan, letting the first thumps of pain, turn into pleasure. He's tense under you, Jake, using every ounce of willpower not to thrust himself hard up into you to match your rocks. He wants to take this slow. He wants you to enjoy this, no matter how badly he wants to feel you clench around him.

Instead, he rasps into your breast, “Feel good?” 

Why is he so obsessed with asking you questions?

You’re unsure if your noise is intelligible, but you try to force out an affirmative hum. Then he hits the back of your cervix, making you howl and curl into him.  

It must have been the sound you let out because Jake growls. Gripping the flesh of your butt tightly, he flipped the both of you. You weren't expecting him to, not with how beaten up he was. The movement of your back hitting the bed caused him to hit something deep inside you, causing you to cry out and grip the planes of his shoulders, nails biting hard and uncaring if you happened to touch his bruise.

The slow movement of you rocking on him was nothing compared to the way he started to thrust in earnest. 

"You have no idea how much I've wanted you," he panted, increasing his pace. "The day I saw you at the Hard Deck when you were dancing in your kitchen. The clean fucking slate."

You whimper at the growl he spun on the word fucking, adding to the heat already spreading across your body. Even with the pleasure he’s bestowing across your body, you know this must be somewhat painful for him.

"Jake.." you gasped. "Your back."

"Fuck my back," he grunted, angling his hips in an urgent thrust. It made you tilt your head back into your pillow, your head almost hitting your headboard, your nails biting into his back, letting out a heated cry. Jake went for your neck, teeth, and lips, pressing hard to your pulse point.

"I don't care if I fucking break it," he growled out. "I'm not stopping until you cum for me." 

A particular thrust caused you to turn your head, and Jake sunk his teeth into your neck. You lifted your leg, wrapping it around Jake's waist. The angle of this next thrust changed, and you whimpered loudly, tears leaking down the sides of your face as Jake lurched over you with a desperate groan.

It has you wrapping your other leg around his waist, your hips slanted downwards, his cock pounding you at a new angle.

His hand, supporting himself on the bed next to you, shot out to grip your bedframe. Alternating between deep thrusts and shallow teases, Jake watched you underneath him. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, your eyes fighting to stay open, and dog tags - his dog tags - jangling against your stomach.

 He almost didn’t have this, the stark realization haunting him. He had literally been a breath away from never seeing you again, never feeling your warmth or hearing your cries of pleasure or even your laughter. He would take any chance, any glance, anything to assure him you were real. And that you were his.

His back spasmed, and he fell on top of you, saving himself from crushing you at the last second. But it doesn’t deter him. No, Jake still flexed his hips, more than determined to get you over that edge, to have you cum. Even if he didn’t, he wanted you to experience at least that. 

But those dog tags cause a possessive feeling to rise in his chest - because the only word going through his head right now is mine. 

"You’re mine, Elizabeth,” he grunted. "Say it. Please say it.”

There's the possessive kink you know and love. 

“I’m yours,” you cry out, consumed by the feeling of him driving his cock into you. “Yours Jake, just please…”

It is then a mantra of "pleases" and "I needs" fall from your lips, of which you aren't sure what for. All you knew was that Jake was working you higher and higher off that edge, fully determined to see you tumble over it.

“Cum for me Liz,” he whines.  “Cum for me, just for me. Please my darlin’ girl.”

He drops his hand between the two of you, seeking out your clit and rubbing hard, tight circles that have you screaming. Your soaring, going over that somewhat unfamiliar edge he’s brought you over only twice before.

You swear you black out, just for a few moments, until Jake is at your ear, whispering praise after praise about how good it finally felt to have you cum around him. How only he would ever be the one to experience this, how proud of you he is.

Then he thrusts, once, twice, before your hips jolt up, and he's pressing himself deep, flooding your core. You sob, burying your face into his neck and tightening your legs around him. Because amongst the overstimulation, you can feel another one creeping up from out of nowhere. Pure white heat shoots up to your chest as Jake's haunting moan vibrates your entire being.

Then it's quiet, and you want to bury yourself in this moment. 

You don't even care that you're crying. Because, with all the thoughts and feelings flying back and forth through your mind, there's one that stands out the most. 

Your so fucking glad you waited.

"Are you alright?"

When you don't say anything, too blissed out to form words, Jake pants out your name against your neck; his voice laced with urgency.

"I need... I need a moment. Just a moment," you manage to pant, forcing breath into your lungs. Jake moves, trying to bring himself onto his elbows as his back screams in protest.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks, stroking your cheek. You manage a small shake of your head, the sides of your mouth turning upwards. "No," you reply softly.

You finally open your eyes to see Jake staring down at you. His brow pulled together in concern. And, of course, you, being you, had to say the first thing that came to mind.

"I guess you did give me a good time after all."

Jake tilts his head for a second before his memory catches up with him, and he shakes his head, though you can see the puff he takes out of pride. 

"What am I going to do with you, Elizabeth Beck?"

You grin up at him. "Hopefully, a repeat of that sometime in the near future?"

Jake rolled onto his side with a groan, pulling you with him to lie half on his chest. The action caused him to slip out from you, which you were grateful for. The quick movement only caused a brief amount of pain, and you were sure if he drew it out, it would have been worse. 

Jake was pressing kisses to your forehead as the aftershocks finally made them known. You trembled against him, hands trying to find purchase along his chest, and Jake didn't stop until he was sure you were okay.

But, in the blissful silence, once you calmed down, Jake playing with your hair against your back, did he finally ask the question you knew was coming since he walked through your front door.

"Does she hate me?"

You weakly lifted your head from his shoulder, watching the conflicting emotions play across his face.

"The day at the beach. She was devastated..." Jake trailed off, absentmindedly staring at your bedroom wall. You pressed a kiss to his chest. "We've both had a lot of people in our lives that have hurt us."

"I'm used to disappointing people, but her? She has every right."

You frowned. "She missed you so much, Jake."

He shook his head, slamming his eyes shut. You lifted your hand off his chest to cradle his jaw, your thumb stroking across his cheekbone under the newly darkened skin. "She could never hate you. She asked me every day when you'd be coming home."

Jake didn't open his eyes, but he did lean into your touch, his shame and guilt still evident.

You wanted to tell him about the most recent thunderstorm, Sadie waking up and crying out for the both of you in the middle of the night. You had done your best to soothe her, but deep down, you knew she wanted Jake. Nothing could compare to his words of reassurance or the way she felt when he hugged her that night.

In the end, lifting his dog tags off your neck and placing them around hers was the only thing that worked. Huddled in her bed with your arms around her, she fell asleep with them gripped tightly in her hand.

Something told you even if you did tell him, it would only make him more upset.

You stroked your fingers over his forehead, asking him softly, "Come with me when I pick her up from camp next week? I promise she will prove you wrong."

There was a silent pause, and then he opened his eyes. He searched you for any hint of deception, not that he would find any. Sadie was just as important to him as you were. In the end, he nodded once with a sigh.

It was a few more minutes before he carefully untangled himself from your hold. He swung his legs over to the side of your bed with a groan, his muscles spasming as he sat up. Even in your blissed-out state, you reached out and placed a hand on his upper back, where his bruise was the least dark, hoping to soothe some of his pain.

"Where are you going?"

"Getting something to clean you up."

"You don't have to, Jake. I can take care of it."

"It's my job," he countered, turning his head to look at you with a cheeky grin. "Let me do this for you."

He stood, lumping slightly to your bathroom to grab something to clean you up. You watched him go, taking him in in all his naked glory, biting your bottom lip hard.

You still couldn't believe he was yours.

You weren't expecting this: the gentleness as he took the rag between your legs when he returned, the kiss he placed on your thigh when you whimpered from the sensitivity.

After tossing the rag into your laundry hamper to be dealt with later, he maneuvered himself back into the position he assumed last night when you fell asleep, head buried in your neck, arms wrapped under your shoulders.

It was soothing, his weight on your chest almost counteracting the dull throbbing in your core.

"How long do I have you for?" you asked, threading your fingers through his hair.

"I have nowhere to be for the next two weeks," he mumbled into your chest.

"Stay with me?"

"As if I'd leave you now."

😏😘 You hate me now?

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Part 22 - Jump in progress

Wickett ;)

[starogeorgina]

Children of the dragon

Warnings: Violence, character death, sexism, swearing

Pairing: Aegon ii Targaryen × Targ oc

1.10

He’s so small.

Your heart races as your breathing becomes more frantic. You couldn’t breathe; you couldn’t move. All you could do was stare at the tiny bundle in your arms, trying to etch each detail of your son’s features in your mind so that you’d never forget.

“I’m so sorry, princess.”

You look up at one of the servants who helped you deliver your son; she bows her head, then steps back, giving you some space. When Delax crashed into the water, you scrambled to unclip yourself from your dragon, whom you feared was dead, and the deeper and deeper you sank into the waves below you, the more certain you were that soon you’d be dead as well. But Dalex, who was only stunned, suddenly sprang back to life and shot up, saving you both. He crawled onto the beach, wounded at Storm’s end, before slumping down. If it weren’t for the crushing pain in your body, all your attention would have been on Dalax, but the baby was coming. Luckily for you, the commotion of the dragons fighting caught the attention of terrified onlookers, some of whom were already on the beach when your dragon fell.

A handful of women who were servants to the bastard lord Baratheon aided you and ushered you into a deserted house not far from the shore to shelter you while you gave birth.

“Harys…” you mutter. “My poor boy, my son, my sweet Harys, I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

Although they were no maesters, the servants much older than yourself had come to the conclusion that the fall and lack of oxygen were what killed your son. Hearing a thumping noise, you look to the door to see two of the women moving furniture in front of it in an attempt to stop it from blowing open. The room was damp and cold, and it broke your heart knowing it was the only place your son would ever know. You observe their actions for a moment as the reality of your son not surviving childbirth sinks in. They risked their lives to save yours.

You screamed at the same time roars erupted in the distance. Dallax could sense your grief and was in mourning too.

Time seems to move in a blur as you become unconsolable. Aeron was dead; Harys, the son you never got to know, was dead; and Aegon... The love of your life was gone as well, as was your nephew Lucerys. Two sets of hands attempt to hold you down and sooth you as you continue to scream.

“Princess, please, if Lord Borros finds out you’re here, he’ll send for Prince Aemond.”

Still screaming, you clasp your son's body closer to you. He was gone. He was gone. And Lord Borros was one of those to blame; he would pay for his part in what transpired. Your husband, mother, and grandson all played a part in this as well. If they weren’t so relentless in pushing Aegon to usurp your sister, none of this would have ever happened.

You kiss Harys on the forehead and let out a sob as your body shakes with rage. “Aemond will burn for this; I will avenge you, my sweet boy.”

—

You turn on your side to face Aegon; even with his thick hair plastered to his face and his body covered in sweat, he looked incredibly handsome. Your fingers glide along the silky fabric of the bedsheets before placing your hand on his bare chest. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hmm.”

“When father suggested a betrothal between me and Jacaerys, you never said anything, but when mother told you she wanted me to marry Aemond, you begged her to let us wed instead.”

“What’s the question?”

“Why did you only ask her when you found out about Aemond?”

Aegon looks lost in thought as he stares up at the crimson canopy. After a few moments of silence, he clears his throat and says, “I told our parents I loved you when I was a boy, and they mocked me for it. The day Aemond lost his eye, I told my mother I intended to marry you when we were older. She laughed in my face and told me I was an imbecile.”

“Is that why you got so wasted?”

He nods.

You turn his face so he stares directly at you. “You’re not stupid, Aegon. I don’t want you to ever believe that.”

“Any time I suggested we be wed after that, mother always laughed before the final time, and she told me no. I didn’t want you to marry Jacaerys,” he gulps down. “But I could see you being content with him, and I don’t think our nephew would have treated you badly; he may have bored you to death but not deliberately cruel to you.”

“Aegon,” you scold, pushing at his chest with playfulness.

“Aemond was different. We both know what our brother is like; he wouldn’t cherish you; he wouldn’t love you.”

“Like you do?”

“Like I do,” Aegon says, tucking strands of hair behind your ear. “My love for you is the only thing that’s stopped me from fleeing somewhere far away on Sunfyre.”

When your eyes first flutter open, it takes you a few seconds to remember what has happened. For just a few seconds, you forgot that your family had been ripped to shreds and that the only reason you had left was to live with your daughters.

Hearing someone clear their throat, you roll onto your side and look up at one of the women. She gives you a sympathetic smile and says, “We have everything ready, just like you asked.”

She helps you sit up and pulls the straps of your nightgown that have slid down up before retrieving your gown, which had dried but was covered in blood and had holes in it. You remain silent until Dallax lets out a wailing noise from outside the small building, causing the women to jump. You grab her hand and say, “Thank you.”

She helps you stand and lets you hold her hand as you walk outside. Your lower lip trembles as you look at the small pyre that was built just outside. Dallax screeched as you walked closer to him. You let go of the woman’s hand and fell to your knees in front of your son.

“I will make him burn; I will make Aemond burn for all he took for me. Including you, my boy, wherever you are, I know you will be well looked after.” Your hand clutches at your chest as you let out a cry. “Aegon would have loved you; he wanted another boy. Your sisters would have spoiled you; Aeron would have been your best friend and protector.”

You let out a deep breath and stepped back. Dallax came closer when he sensed what you were about to say next. You motion for everyone else standing by to step back so they don't get burned.

“Dra—dracarys.”

You remain outside, standing under the rain, waiting for the smoke to start to fade before figuring out your next move.

—

You await on Dallax’s back at the courtyard of Storm's End, awaiting to confront Lord Borros Baratheon. The women who aided you informed you of the threats your husband made towards Prince Lucerys in his presence and how he did nothing to help the young prince.

Your grief had turned to anger, and you sought nothing but revenge. You ordered a handful of knights to ensure the lord's daughters and servants were kept inside. You didn’t want any harm to come to them. It was hard not to find humour in seeing the knights loyal to House Baratheon pointing their swords in your direction, as if they could bring some harm to you, while Dallax sat upon the walls waiting for you to say the words. If it weren’t for the few who had shown you kindness, you would have burned the whole place to the ground. It was said the castle was protected by spells woven into its very walls that prevent magic from affecting it or passing through it; perhaps that’s why the lord was bidding his time; he didn’t believe you could do any harm while he maintained inside.

After waiting for what felt like hours in the lashing rain, the doors to the castle finally opened, and Lord Borros finally emerged. He looks up at you and spits, “I do not wish to have Targaryen blood spilled upon my land.”

A dark chuckle passes your lips. “But it already has. We both know how this is going to end.”

He glares at you and asks, “Do you know what they are calling you, girl?”

“Do enlighten me.”

“Aegon’s whore. The betrayer,” He hisses. “Aemond told me how you fled during the night, taking his children with you to Dragonstone to bend the knee to Rhaenyra. He also said, you used your cunny to bewitch the king into following you. I imagine I'll receive a great reward for handing you over.”

Refusing to pay any mind to his sexist remarks, you say, “You are a weak man, Lord Borros. By playing a part in usurping the rightful heir to the iron throne, you have brought shame upon your house.”

You wanted nothing more than to scream at him for letting Aemond chase after Lucerys, knowing what threats were made. Things could have been so different if the Lord had stepped in; Luke, Aegon, and your sons would still be alive. It suddenly dawned on you that you had no idea why Aemond was at Storm's End in the first place. Perhaps looking for Aegon? But it still didn’t make sense why he would need to speak to Lord Borros directly.

“You are not a true queen of mine.”

Queen? You frown while trying to understand the meaning of his comment. It could only mean one thing: the greens had already started to push for Aemond to be king. He was going to each house himself to make sure they declared for him and not your sister. The presence of Vhagar alone would be enough to sway and pledge allegiance to the blacks.

“Did you really expect anyone to support a groveling young pup who still clung to his mother's skirt over the future king?”

As he continues to ramble on, you notice archers getting into place. A battle is not what you intended, but a battle they shall have. Dallax growls, and you place your hand on the back of his neck. “Easy boy.” You clear your throat. “Your men can either lower their weapons or die.”

Lord Borros mumbles something to one of his knights before turning to walk back inside. He really didn’t think you’d do anything. You look at the terrified men aiming arrows in your direction; their arms wobble as they wait for one of you to strike the first blow.

“Dracarys!”

Lord Borros turns back long enough to see the bright flames coming towards him before he is burned to death. You cling to the harness strapping you in tightly and duck down as Dallax shakes violently as the archers fire at him. He bathes most of them in fire, but he tears the knights in front of him apart with his teeth.

When they are all dead, you tell him to go; even though knights had dropped their swords and ran away, it still wasn’t safe for you to stay too long. You desperately wanted to see your daughters in Dragonstone, but not knowing what awaited you was terrifying. Aemond, still thinking Alina and Alyssa were his, kept them safe, at least for now.

This was only the beginning of the war.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Day three, part two

Author’s Note: This is the next part of Hagiel’s Awful Mission. First. Previous. Next

Playlist for this fic series: Spotify Youtube

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Warnings: manipulation, lying, please ask me to tag if something bothers you

Summary: In the early morning, Hagiel gives into his cravings for blood and drinks from a dead body. Unfortunately, he’s spotted by one of the Ecclesiarchy’s elderly priests while feeding. 

It did not take long for the flighted car to deliver Hagiel to Lady Sablescar's manor - which had been completely untouched by the ravages of the battles that had been fought for and on this world. But Hagiel had been expecting this. What he hadn't been expecting was that behind the gates of her properties outer boundary was a lush and beautiful - and meticulously maintained garden. Each plant, flower, bush and tree that he was driven passed looked to have at least one edible part to it, if his ability to discern what was consumable and what wasn't hadn't failed him. 

The governor had boasted a lush garden as well, but their plants had been primarily ornamental in kind, useful only for the carbon dioxide they scrubbed from the atmosphere and the oxygen they produced as a byproduct.  This appeared to be a functional garden - and from the handful of serfs he had seen collecting some of the vibrant fruits and verdant vegetables... A working garden as well. Hagiel genuinely hadn't been expecting that and was a little off-put as he stepped out of the car after the driver opened the door for him. 

He followed the house serf who had been waiting for him at the beautifully carved wooden double doors, taking in fresher air than he had tasted in weeks, if not much longer. He was offered a glass of fresh water and a small selection of fresh fruits to nibble on, which he accepted. Hydration was important and while these fruits would do little for his metabolic needs, it would be rude for him to refuse. Besides, he did enjoy the taste of fresh mortal produce.  The delightful crunch of the sweet fruit slices was fun, and the natural sugars were a delight for his palate.

Lady Sablescar was sitting down at a large desk, steadily working her way through a large stack of dataslates when Hagiel walked in. She looked up and set aside the slate that she had been writing on, straightening a little in her seat and she asked "Please sit down, Lord Astartes. I had my serfs bring out furniture that could accommodate the stature of an Astartes when it became clear that you and your dearly departed brothers would be staying and fighting alongside our people for some time." She gestured to the Astartes sized chair in front of her desk.

"How thoughtful of you, Lady Sablescar." Hagiel responds with a small, closed-mouth smile as he sits in the offered seat. The fabric was soft and the cushions were deeply comfortable, but firm enough that Hagiel wasn't concerned about sinking through the cushions completely. "What is the urgent matter you wished to speak to me privately about?" He was seated near the edge of his chair and leaned in a little toward her as he asked, looking her over assessingly.

She looks Hagiel over with a scrutinizing gaze before letting out a small sigh, shaking her head a little. "I had initially being oblique about the issue, but from what I have heard about Lord Angels such as yourself, Astartes tend to prefer direct communication, rather than the subtle wordplay and layers of subterfuge that we nobles tend to prefer to use when speaking with one another. Am I correct, my lord?"

"I would rather you speak plainly, rather than dancing around the subject. yes." Hagiel responded, puzzled by the question and answering honestly.

Lady Sablescar nods, a grim smile appearing on her face as she responds "I had thought so. So I will be honest and I hope that you will do the same, if necessary. I was woken up abruptly in the early hours of the morning by my butler. The reason being that one of the Ecclesiarchy's Priests had apparently been banging on the bars of my front gates for ten minutes, terrifying and blathering absolute nonsense and would not calm down. He begged to speak to me privately. He was terrified and has been a well loved and respected member of our Hive City's community for many years as he has tended to our spiritual needs. As he has gone further into his twilight years, he has become a bit more... Eccentric, but no less devoted to the God Emperor and serving our spiritual needs to the best of our abilities."

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! 

Just where was this going? Hagiel surreptitiously turned on his helmet's vox and switched between the different channels as the noblewoman spoke, trying to figure out if there were a bunch of arbites waiting just outside the room, ready to try and arrest him for heresy or being chaos tainted, or a dozen other nonsensical things. He did not hear any chatter, whispers or breathing on any of the channels he had access to. The Lamenter mentally braced himself as he asked, glad that the vocodor in his helmet removed most of the emotion from his voice, as he asked in as calm a manner as he could manage "Do you know what upset this elderly if well-loved priest so badly? And is this the worrying issue you wished to bring up to me?"

"It is, as a matter of fact. He informed me that he found a large, red-eyed monster drinking the life-essence of one of our fallen citizens, the sanguine life-essence dripping off of it's eerily perfect face, and onto it's shadow-dark body. The priest told me that it called out to him in the masculine voice of a beguiling siren, trying to lure him into stopping and being consumed like the dead. He fled all the way to my manor and begged me for aid in hunting this monster down. He wanted to go to Lord Shyrc about this, but had been turned away from their security. He'd tried to speak with General Qvelt, but had also been turned away at his door as well."

Thank the fucking god-emperor that the priest hadn't recognized him. Then again, there were perhaps a handful of mortals on this world who have repeatedly seen his face beneath his helmet, and his voice did sound quite different unmodulated "I have heard of blood-drinking monsters in the past. Most of these rumors are just that... And given the utter violence that has been visited upon our fair city, the fact that an elderly member of this community has reportedly seen such a sight isn't that surprising. If you wish, I will ask the arbites to give me a squad of their best investigators to personally lead the investigation into this possible creature. If there is a chaos monstrosity on this world, the sooner we find and purge it, the less likely it is to be able to corrupt the innocent and damn the unwary... If the good priest did in fact see an entity and was not wracked with night terrors that blend reality and dreams into a confusing mix where a mortal cannot tell one from the other."

"... You do make an excellent point about this particular priest having perhaps suffered a night terror and confused it for something that had already happened. Though his holy clothing smelled of the furnaces where they burn the dead to release their spirits to send to the God Emperor, and he had said that he had been working through the night to send the fallen onwards to Him on Terra. Still, I have the priest resting in one of my guest rooms. I do have my personal doctor checking him over for any ailments as well." Lady Sablescar sighed, shaking her head a little. "I suppose I may have jumped the lazgun a little by calling you in, Lord Angel... But I am grateful to speak with you again. We had only a brief period of time to speak before now at the Governor's banquet. I admit to being quite charmed by your handsome face and maroon eyes. Why, they seemed to glow in the half-light of dusk."

Shit. Fuck. Ass. Where was she going with this? "Many of my brothers have at least some red in their eyes. It is one of the traits that we are blessed with, as a boon of being a gene-son of the Holy Primarch Sanguinius, the Great Angel. The blonde in my hair is due to his gifts to me, as a matter of fact." Among other things, though Hagiel wasn't going to go into all of the blessings he had been gifted as he went through the process of becoming a Lamenter. "All astartes are able to see in the dark much better than baseline humans without ocular augments, which causes higher light reflectivity in the back of our eyes. Hence a bit of a seeming glow to them in dim light."

"I will defer to you on matters of your own biology, my lord angel." Lady Sablescar demurred, bowing her head a little in his direction. "Be rest assured that I will ensure that the frightened priest will be well taken care of by my serfs as he recovers from his scare. Do you think that there is any credence to his words, or merely the confused terror of an old man exposed once more to the endless horrors of war and the stresses of tending to a soul-wounded populace giving him vivid night visions when he was exhausted?"

"The latter is far more likely, but if you wish I will lead an investigation into trying to find this monster." Hagiel offered, hoping that she would drop the topic. He had to survive four and a half more days before the Ultramarines arrived and he could get the fuck away from this system and rejoin his surviving brothers in what remained of the battle-fleet. The likelihood of there being any chaos activity on this world was... Well, Hagiel didn't want to put that sort of thoughts out into the universe, keenly aware of the bad luck that plagued his chapter since it's first founding. 

"... I think not. I will speak with general Qvelt about any unusual happenings that the arbites under his command may have seen in the past few days, but your aid in repairing the city is crucial in terms of both morale and the speed at which the construction teams complete their tasks with what we have on hand to repair our home with. I would rather not pull you off that duty unless truly necessary. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me." Lady Sablescar murmured, ducking her head again. "There is going to be another formal dinner in two days, so that the nobles of the city - and from not just this world, but across the entire system are going to gather together to discuss matters of state. You will be invited to come, naturally. The Governor wanted to ask me if you had a wine preference, as you barely touched the sparkling white wine at the previous dinner. Perhaps a red, or a blended wine?"

Hagiel's eyes narrowed behind his visor as he silently tried to figure out what in the fresh fuck she meant by that. Still... She asked, so he would answer honestly "In truth? Mortal alcohols have little effect on me, though I do occasionally have a sip or two in order to be polite. I do prefer the full-bodied flavors of a red wine or a red-heavy blend, as the lighter notes of a white wine simply aren't to my taste."

"I will pass that along." Lady Sablescar responded, a small smile appearing on her face. "That is all I wished to speak to you about, my thanks for your time." She nodded her head again.

"Very well. I shall take my leave. I will keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior or activities while I continue to help repair this city." Hagiel responded, nodding to her politely back before getting up and leaving her office, mind churning in concern. He had caught her implied accusation and had tried to counter it - but he wasn't sure what he was going to do if she outright accused him... Especially as he had been caught dead to rights. It was a gene flaw that every Son of Sanguinius struggled with, but mortals got so antsy when it came to blood drinking... 

He asked the driver to drop him off at the south hospital, which was under what was hopefully it's final few hours of reconstruction and he wanted to help that team along before turning in for the night.

~

Hagiel spends the rest of the afternoon and evening at the south hivecity hospital. He lifts heavy pipes and holds large sections of sheet rock in place. He holds up mortals as they fix the walls and ceilings back into place. He carries dozens of pounds of tiles for the rooftop to be re-shingled and different dozens of tiles for the floors to be re-done. After the distressing morning and anxiety-inducing afternoon meeting, this sort of physical labor as he can see what he has done to help take shape into a partially destroyed hospital into a full-functioning medical facility causes him to smile. He is one of the spotters for the last remaining fixes that need to be done to this hospital at this point in time. 

The four most sure-footed and lightest weight mortals are busily working on putting the final shingles on the roof of the hospital, making sure that each piece are securely placed on the roof, as a shitty job will mean that the roof will go bad much faster than a well-done roof. The winds have picked up, and though each of them are in proper harnesses and are using several points of contact in order to be as safe as reasonably possible, roofing is still a rather dangerous task to complete. Especially with the high winds. 

Hagiel hears the oncoming howl of wind seconds before it hits the four roofers, already in motion as all four of them are blown off of the top of the hospital. Their guidelines go taught before snapping off, causing the four mortals to flail and scream as they desperately try and grab onto the freshly repaired and repainted outside walls of the hospital to try and arrest their fall. The mortal spotters scramble to grab auto-inflatable pads to cover whre they are likely to land, and shout encouragements up at their falling companions.

The space marine sprints up to the hospital wall and leaps vertically upwards, snatching all four mortals out of the air. Unfortunately their extra weight arrests his upwards momentum, but Hagiel had been expecting that, which was why he kicked off of the wall of the hospital, propelling himself and the four mortals further upwards. In the second leap he cleared the roof of the hospital, slinging the mortals back onto the roof as gently as he could muster, before allowing himself to fall onto the roof of the hospital, rolling to dispel the extra force from the blow. Between his weight and his armor, he's managed to put a sizeable dent in the roof, but no one is dead and no one has been maimed, so he is counting this as a success.

He rolls over to the nearest mortal, looking them over and asked "Are you injured?"

They shake their head, eyes wide as they manage out a shaky "N-no Lord Angel. A bit spooked, but otherwise fine, mi'lord. Thank... Thank you for not letting us fall to our deaths."

"It is my duty as one of His Astartes to protect and defend the Imperium and all of its' citizens to the best of my ability until and after my dying breath. Rescuing you is part of those vows." Hagiel responded with a slight hum. He reached up and took off his helmet, giving the still wide-eyed human a closed-mouth smile in an attempt to help them calm down after their scare. "Let's finish roofing, yes? I'll be close the entire time, ready to catch you or the others if need be."

The residual fear turned into resolve and all four baseline mortals nodded, determination clear on their faces. "Yes, Lord Angel!"

"Good. For your people. For the Imperium. For Him on Terra!" Hagiel encouraged. He was perhaps laying it on a little thick, but the mortals rallied at his words, redoubling their efforts. The Lamenter put his helmet back on and shimmied his way off of the roof, easily shaking off the seventy-foot drop in his power armor with no issues. Two of the mortals he had grabbed had been pinched by two of his ceramite plates hard enough to bleed. He had nearly started salivating at the scent and had been briefly tempted to lean in and lick their wounds closed. The red thirst had returned, as the dead blood from this morning had lasted him only a handful of hours, especially with the hard labor he was doing, which burned more calories as well. The sun had set just as they finished re-shingling the roof of the south hospital, and Hagiel helped them down.

He was not going to give into temptation and drink from them. Even if he asked first and they didn't freak out at the thought of him wanting their blood, it would be wrong of him to indulge the red thirst so soon after giving in. Even if the dead blood had been... Unsatisfying, it had been filling. There was a good chance that the body processing area was much more closely monitored and he needed these mortals to cooperate with him more or less willingly if this city was to be ready for inspection before the Ultramarines arrived to judge them, take the resources the Imperial Regent was owed and leaving again. Hagiel's chapter master had been reached out to by a representative of the Imperial Regent, asking if he would swear loyalty to him.

The answer to that question had been a grim and weary yes. The high lords of terra had long punished them for a sin that Hagiel had hoped the Imperial Regent would consider absolving them of. They had been on penitent crusades for centuries, their numbers critically low, their supplies, armor and weapons in poor repair for Imperial standards. Every brother lost was one that they could not replace unless expressly given permission to. They did have the gene-seed to replace their fallen, just not the right to do so. 

Hagiel walked exhaustedly back to his bunk on The Resolve, sliding out of his armor and flopping face first into bed after shoving as much rations in his face as he could be bothered to eat before passing out.

[givemea-dam-break]

since so many of you wanted a part two to this fic:

"" please, could you write something were the reader is part of kipps crew and lockwood is like obsessed with her. anytime they encounter he goes out of his way to be nice to her and kipps finds it so weird because she is like is best friend or sister even. that would be so cool! also love the new things you’ve posted earlier!!! ""

a/n: i am here to deliver! i have to say, i did not expect many, if any, requests for a part two of this piece (named Anthony on my masterlist), but here you go! thank you all for your support and love on not just this piece, but my other fics i love you all <3

warnings: angst, brief mention of suicide (for a case) female reader (few pronouns used)

part one

Your day could not get any worse, not even if a ghost appeared out of nowhere and killed you. No, in fact, that would be preferable to having Kipps screaming in your face.

"I told you to stay away from him! And now you tell me that you want to join his agency? You have got to be kidding me. This is some kind of prank, right? Is Bobby in on it? Ned? Surely not Kat."

You can't bring yourself to look at the guy who you have relied on for most of your life. The guilt is tearing you apart.

"No, it's not a prank," you say. "But, I'm not happy here, Kipps. I feel so... constrained. I don't want to keep having to follow a system that is so pick-and-choose with what they do and who they send. I want action. I want freedom."

Kipps looks like he's going to tear his hair out. "Freedom? You won't be getting freedom when DEPRAC arrests Lockwood and his little friends, you right along with them, for breaking the rules! God, do you ever listen to me?"

It feels like your heart is sinking, attached to a heavy weight. "Do you listen to me? I've told you I'm not happy here. The team barely speaks to each other, and all we seem to be doing is trying to show up Lockwood, George, and Lucy, and that's not what all of this is meant to be about. What happened to saving the world, Kipps? Isn't that what you used to tell me we'd do?"

And there it is: the breaking point. You've never seen him look so hurt, so betrayed, but you feel the exact same. He was meant to be your biggest supporter, and he can't even do that. Instead, he's so caught up in his pride, his love for the Fittes agency over his love for you, that he won't acknowledge how you feel.

"Hand in your notice by the end of the day," he says, his tone hard and his teeth gritted. "I want you gone by the morning."

"Kipps -" you say, but he's already lost interest and is walking away.

Asshole, you think, but there's no malice to it.

You can only watch as he, the only family figure you ever had in your life, leaves you behind.

--

"Oh, (name), we didn't expect to see you so soon," Lucy says upon opening the front door of 35 Portland Row. "I've almost finished setting up your bed in the attic with me, but - Wait, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," you say, but it's not overly convincing. "Just thought I'd leave before I got caught up in any big cases."

"You fell out, didn't you?" She ushers you inside, softly shutting the door behind you. "(name), I'm sorry -"

"I'm fine, Lucy," you insist.

She nods, but the look on her face tells you everything. Even if she doesn't know you that well, she's a little worried. With an attempt at a comforting smile, she leads you up the stairs, pointing out the boys' bedrooms and the bathroom, along with a room that no one enters - "We've been in it before, but only because Lockwood let us. You'd best wait until he's comfortable with you going in before finding out what's in there." - and, then, finally the attic.

It's a big space, crowded with over-large furniture. A double bed in the centre of the wall on the right, a wardrobe over on the other wall near the window, and a dresser beside. A small door leads to a tiny, cramped bathroom. Your bed, a fold-up one with a mattress haphazardly thrown on it, is squished in between the door and the wardrobe and, as tightly-packed as everything is, you smile at the cosiness of it.

"I'll just finish up on your bed -"

"I can get it, Lucy," you say, dropping your bags down at the foot of the bed. "Thank you. Are Lockwood and George here? It's awfully quiet."

Lucy snorts. "No, they're out at the moment, doing something or other. Do you want me to go put some tea on?"

You manage a smile. "Yes, please."

As it turns out, Lucy makes nicer tea than Geroge, and she's also kind enough to give you a bigger mug, although there are a few chips on the top. You suppose that's the norm with most of their things.

It doesn't take long for Lockwood and George to return from whatever they were doing. They trudge into the kitchen, arguing about something, but stop short in the doorway. Lucy gets up from her seat, halting her conversation with you, to pour them some tea while you sit, clutching your mug close in both hands.

"(name)!" Lockwood says, plastering on his infamous smile. "I didn't know you were here."

George shuffles past Lockwood and reaches into a cupboard, grabbing a biscuit. "She wasn't meant to be here for another week or two. Isn't that how notices work?"

"Uh, well." You shrug awkwardly, opting to stare at the scribbles on the thinking cloth, as you've been told it's called. "Things changed."

"Kipps made her leave sooner," Lucy says, and though she's worded it a little more gently than you had while talking to her over tea, it still hurts to hear. "Fell out."

"Well, you're here now," Lockwood says cheerfully, sitting down at the head of the table, just diagonal from you. "You'll have none of that from us."

Soundlessly, you move a plate slightly to reveal in loopy handwriting: "Lockwood is a prick and I hate him" next to a poor drawing of his face with devil horns. You raise your eyebrows, but he only laughs.

"What actually happened?" George asks. He looks a little too eager.

You purse your lips. "Told Kipps I wanted to leave, gave him a load of solid reasons, and he shouted at me a bunch. It's whatever."

Lockwood is watching you carefully as if watching and waiting to catch the pieces of you when you inevitably break. You offer up the best smile you can muster, but it doesn't seem to convince him.

"I'm fine, I promise," you say. "What about you guys? Any interesting cases lately?"

"Well," Lockwood says. His usual expression has returned - the cocky grin and sparkling eyes - but there's something a little subdued about it. His eyes still haven't left you. "George and I have just come back from the Archives doing some research for a case we've got tonight -"

"You mean George did the research," George grumbles. "You sat and daydreamed the whole time."

Lockwood only rolls his eyes. "Either way, you're welcome to join us on the case tonight - we could use an extra pair of hands."

Sipping your tea, you shrug again. "Might as well, as long as you're all fine with it."

George looks a little apprehensive about it, but Lucy nods. "What do we know so far?" she asks.

"Ms Diven, the client we met with this morning," George clarifies, glancing at you, "told us that there's a presence in her house, something she can sense but can't see, obviously, and that it's causing trouble. Well, that leads us to believe it's a Type Two, but who?" A smile splits his face, clearly very in his element. "In the Archives, I found some information on previous owners of the house, but only one of them seemed worth noting." He slides a newspaper cutting onto the table.

"Heidi Kairn," Lucy reads. "But, who was she?"

"Famous singer in the forties," George says. "The industry messed her up. A lot of stuff went down, and she ended up..." He drew a finger across his throat. Everyone got the message. "She's the only notable death from that house."

"Any clue what the source could be?" Lockwood asks. You notice how his hand on the table has moved slightly closer to yours. "Surely there won't be anything left from when the death occurred."

George shrugs. "It could be anything. A floorboard, a piece of furniture. We'll have to scout it out when we're there."

"Well!" Lockwood grins widely. "I suppose we should get our equipment ready."

--

Staring up at the house in front of you, you can't help but feel guilty. Not even a whole day since leaving Fittes, since leaving Kipps, and already you're on a case. Maybe Kipps was right to feel betrayed.

A hand closes softly around yours. When you look, it's Lockwood, looking straight on at the house with a grin.

"It's still daylight, so we'll scout out the house, use our Talents to see if we can figure anything out, and do our usual setup: iron circles in the main rooms, temperature readings. In half an hour, we'll all meet up back here on the porch."

You have to admire the confidence he speaks with. Kipps, for all his pride, would shout orders and stay behind with a facade of confidence, but it was easy enough to hear the fear lingering in his words. But, Lockwood doesn't show fear. Whether he even feels it right now is beyond you.

"George, Lucy, you guys take the bottom floor. (name) and I will take the top."

Lucy looks like she's trying to suppress a smile, glancing between you, Lockwood, and your clasped hands. "Got it. See you guys soon. Come on, George."

The pair trudge into the house, immediately taking a right into what you assume is the living room.

"Are you alright?"

You look back at Lockwood. "Hmm?"

That careful look is back. "It wasn't your fault, you know, yours and Kipps' argument. If anything, it's mine."

"That doesn't matter right now," you say, but you appreciate his words nonetheless. "Come on, I'd like to get this case over with as soon as."

It appeared to be harder than you thought. Lockwood and Co, though using many Fittes techniques for their procedures, also did some things very differently. They used the Fittes grid technique for temperature readings, but where they placed their iron circles was entirely different from where you would've done so. And, while you were glad that orders weren't being shouted at you by someone who didn't have the full scope of what was going on, the silence made you uneasy. The investigation of the house took a lot less time than it would've at Fittes, and even though everything that needed to be done had been, you couldn't get that pit of dread out of your stomach.

It was a moderately sized house, not large in any sense, but grand enough to have guest bedrooms which, in your eyes, said enough. The rooms were all relatively simple, with plain-coloured walls and light and trodden carpets. There were two kids' bedrooms, both concerningly beige, and the bathroom was about the size of the kitchen back at Portland Row.

"You've got Sight, too, right?" Lockwood asks, opening the door to the master bedroom.

"Yeah. Not as good as my Touch, but strong enough."

"So you see that deathglow, too?"

You step into the room, only to stop short. Lockwood pulls a pair of sunglasses from his coat, placing them over his eyes. A deathglow hovers over the ground, blindingly bright in the growing darkness of the room.

"Sense anything?" Lockwood asks.

Shuffling back slightly, you touch your hand to the doorframe and open your senses.

Crying. Someone is sobbing hysterically as they run into the room, throwing themself onto the bed. There's a strong chemical-like smell, something that has your gut twisting. A faint figure, one you can barely see, pushes itself off the bed as horrid cries escape their lips. The sound is heart-wrenching. They reach for something on a dresser that is no longer there, clutching at their chest and putting a hand to their mouth. Shortly after, they collapse, seizing.

Gasping, you tear your hand from the doorframe, stumbling back. It hurts to breathe.

"Anthony," you manage. Your heart is pounding in your chest.

Lockwood's face appears before yours, hands gently touching your face as he repeats, over and over, "You're okay. You're safe. You're with me."

It's at times like this that you hate your Talent. Sometimes, Touch just gives you the echoes of the past you need to hear to locate a source or figure out who the Visitor really is, but, other times, it feels like you're being sucked back into the past. Everything, all the emotions, feel amplified.

"Hey, you're okay," Lockwood repeats. His forehead presses against yours as his dark eyes meet yours. His gaze is so reassuring that you can't look away. "We need to get back outside, tell the others whatever it is you've seen. Can you do that?"

Taking a deep breath, you nod.

"You don't have to continue with this case," he says. "Lucy, George, and I should be able to manage on our own."

"I'll be okay," you say, your voice quieter than you thought it'd be.

His eyes close momentarily, then his hands fall from your face and he steps back. "Come on," he says gently.

George and Lucy's findings are very limited. The temperatures in each of the rooms are relatively normal, except for the office which, judging from the layout of the house, is just beneath the room with the deathglow. Lucy had heard nothing out of the ordinary, not until the same moment you had used your Touch.

"Horrible crying," she says. "Full of pain. I couldn't make out any words. It was very faint."

"(name)?" George says. "What about you?"

You take a sip of tea from your flask to soothe your nerves. "The same, but I was dragged back to that moment, if you get what I mean. I could see her faintly - Heidi, that is. There was a really strong smell, something chemically, probably some kind of drug. I saw -" It takes you a moment to get the words out. "She overdosed in the master bedroom. As she... you know, she was holding something on her chest, a necklace, maybe."

Lockwood's hand closes around yours once more. You can't look at him, any of them. "You don't have to carry on with this case. That's a horrible thing to have to see."

"I've told you already, I'll be fine." Another sip of tea. "George, does that give you any clue what or where the source is?"

George takes a minute to think, biting down on a block of chocolate from Lucy's bag. "Well, it could well be a necklace. If I remember correctly, a lot of newspapers commented on her outfits a lot, and she wore the same necklace everywhere. A string of pearls, I think."

Lucy groans. "Yeah, because all that women cared about back then was what everyone wore." She breaks off another chunk of chocolate for herself. "Surely, she would've still been wearing the necklace when she was buried, or whatever. Why would it be in the house?"

"God knows," Lockwood says. "We're not here to figure that out. We're here to secure it and get rid of the Visitor."

You glance at the sky and then check your watch. Summer means that the days are longer, so Visitors take longer to gain strength. "Nine p.m. Getting dark."

Lockwood grins, and it helps ease you. "Let's go jewellery shopping."

--

A lantern on the dimmest light setting is placed in the master bedroom to give George some light as he scours the room for the suspected source.

It's better to keep light usage as low as possible, a fact you're more than aware of, but the darkness of the landing that seems to stretch on endlessly is making you anxious. Even with Lockwood to your right, and Lucy just behind, making sure nothing comes at George from inside the bedroom, you can't help but feel worried.

It takes all of your power to pull those emotions together and shove them deep, deep down. You can't afford for the Visitor to feed off of them.

"Ghost fog at the end of the hall," Lockwood announces. "George, you any closer to a source?"

"Not yet. I'm about to start prying up the floorboards. Luce, you have any gum? Miasma is starting to taste horrid."

There's a sound of crinkling wrappers, then silence again.

"Crying is back," Lucy says. Slowly, she draws her rapier, and the sound of the metal unsheathing gives you comfort. "Getting louder."

"There's a faint figure appearing," you say. "It's her."

The weight of the salt bomb in your hand is familiar, soothing. This is no different from every other case you've been on, it's just a different team.

Slowly, the ghost of Heidi Kairn becomes more and more visible. She wears a summer frock that reaches her knees, patterned with polka dots, and her hair reaches her shoulders, slightly curled and neatly styled. Her face is beautiful in a timeless sort of way. A string of pearls hangs around her neck, glittering in the other-light she produces.

For a moment, you believe she's harmless. She approaches curiously and cautiously, eyes doe-like. You don't want to hurt her. She's causing no trouble. She's so, so sad, and so lonely...

A shriek of rage pierces the air, and the ghost shoots towards you and Lockwood. Out of pure instinct, you throw the salt bomb, preventing her approach momentarily, and Lockwood keeps her back with a continuous movement of his rapier. His arm reaches out, slightly in front of you.

"I've found it!" George shouts.

"Well, get it out!" Lucy says, throwing another salt bomb at the ghost.

The ghost wails, floating around desperately to find a gap to dart through, but she's kept at bay by three rapiers and a few more salt bombs.

"My arm is stuck!" George says. "Lucy, help!"

Lucy hurries backwards, and Lockwood moves back to cover her space slightly. You throw another salt bomb, earning another shriek of anger.

Fighting Visitors is what you've spent most of your life doing. This is the easy part, for you. It takes almost no time for you to fall back into a routine of rapier manoeuvres and throwing salt bombs, and, soon enough, you and Lockwood are working in tandem.

"Got it!" Lucy says.

Heidi Kairn's ghost wails once more, darting straight for the master bedroom, but she never reaches it. She's cut down by two rapiers and before she can fully reform, her source is wrapped tightly in a silver net.

There's a moment of silence, and then Lockwood, Lucy, and George burst out into laughter. It's contagious and before long, you're laughing, too, leaning against the wall.

Already, they feel like family, and the realisation makes you smile even wider.

[yourmomsawh0r3]

crossroads: chapter 2

javier pena x fem/ single mom reader

The morning sun streamed through the windows of their new home, casting a warm glow over the kitchen. Y/N and Elle had been awake since 9 AM, grateful for the extra rest Elle had gotten by sleeping in. Elle's laughter filled the room as she danced to a song playing on the iPad. Y/N chuckled while flipping pancakes on the griddle.

"Do you want chocolate chips on your pancake?" Y/N asked, glancing over her shoulder at her daughter.

"Yes, pwease!" Elle said, still twirling to the music.

Just as Y/N plated the pancakes, the doorbell rang. Startled, she put down the plate and walked to the door. Peeking through the peephole, she sighed in relief when she saw the delivery people. Opening the door, she greeted them warmly.

"Hi, I’m Elle," her daughter chimed in, pushing her way between Y/N and the door. She flashed a toothless grin at the delivery guy.

"Hi there, Elle! I’m Harry," the delivery guy said, smiling back. "I’m here to deliver and build your furniture."

Y/N exhaled, grateful that she had signed up for the furniture assembly service. "Thank you so much," she said, stepping aside to let the delivery team in. She placed Elle in her portable high chair and set a pancake in front of her.

As Elle happily munched on her breakfast, Y/N directed the movers where to place the already assembled furniture. "Can I get you guys a water or anything?" she asked.

"That would be perfect," one of them replied.

After a few hours of work, the movers had finished setting up everything. Y/N thanked them profusely as they left, closing the door behind them.

"Alright, munchkin, we gotta go to Walmart. We need a TV, groceries, and some other things for the house," Y/N said, helping Elle put on her shoes. They grabbed Y/N's purse and headed to the car. She buckled Elle into her car seat and drove to Walmart.

On the way, Elle begged for a new toy. Y/N sighed, considering how well-behaved Elle had been recently. "Okay, you can have one toy, but nothing too expensive," she agreed.

At Walmart, Y/N placed Elle in the shopping cart and locked the car. They wandered through the aisles, filling the cart with groceries, home decor, and other necessities. At the checkout, Y/N asked the cashier to put the two TVs on hold and to help load them into her car. They finally checked out and headed home, with all the items they came for, including Elle's new toy.

Back at home, Y/N lugged the two TVs inside, setting one up in the living room and the other in the bedroom. She put away the groceries and decorated the house to make it feel like a home. Elle begged her mom to go play outside on the new playset the builders had assembled. Giving in, Y/N took her daughter outside and pushed her on the swing.

"Higher, Mommy!" Elle squealed with delight.

Y/N laughed and pushed her higher into the air. After an hour and a half in the summer heat, the sun began to set. "Alright, peanut, time to go inside. We gotta make dinner," she said, leading Elle back inside.

In the kitchen, Y/N stared at the cabinet, deciding on spaghetti for dinner. She set to work, preparing the meal while Elle played with her toys on the floor. As they sat down to eat, Y/N heard a car door shut outside. It must be her neighbor, she thought, but she ignored it and continued eating.

After dinner, she packaged some leftover spaghetti for her neighbor, thinking it would be a nice gesture. Meanwhile, next door, Javier Peña had just gotten home from a night shift. He noticed the "For Sale" sign was gone and an SUV was parked in the driveway. He stared at it for a moment, trying to remember where he had seen that car before. Shrugging it off, he went inside, hoping his new neighbors would be nicer than the last ones.

Cracking open a beer, Javier sighed as he stood in front of the empty fridge. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He walked over, ready to open it when he heard a small voice on the other side.

"Mommy, do you think they are home?" Elle asked.

Javier opened the door to see the woman and child he had helped the previous day with a flat tire. She looked even more beautiful than he remembered.

"Hey, Javier, right? The sheriff?" Y/N said, smiling. "Nice to see you again. We’re neighbors now. I made spaghetti for dinner and didn’t want the leftovers, so I figured why not share some with my neighbor?" she rambled, holding out a Tupperware container.

Javier grinned, finding her rambling endearing. "Thank you, that's very sweet of you," he said, taking the container. He crouched down to Elle's level. "And who might this be?" he asked.

Elle giggled. "Hi, mister! I’m Elle and I’m three," she said, holding up three fingers.

"It's nice to meet you, Elle," Javier said warmly. "Thank you for the spaghetti. It smells delicious."

Y/N smiled, feeling a flutter in her chest. "It was no problem at all. We just wanted to say hello."

"Well, I'm glad you did," Javier replied, standing up. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

"We will," Y/N said, her smile growing wider. "Have a good evening, Javier."

"You too," he said, watching as Y/N and Elle walked back to their house. He felt a sense of hope for the first time in a while. Maybe having new neighbors wouldn't be so bad after all.

Back in their house, Y/N felt a sense of accomplishment. They were settling in, making connections, and building a new life. As she tucked Elle into bed that night, she whispered, "Sweet dreams, my love. Tomorrow is a new day."

Elle smiled sleepily. "Goodnight, Mommy. I love you."

"I love you too, peanut," Y/N said, kissing her forehead. She quietly left the room, feeling a mix of exhaustion and contentment. They were on the right path, and that was all that mattered.

Y/N got into her bedroom and started to unpack her things, methodically placing her belongings in the closet and drawers. She made her bed, smoothing out the sheets and fluffing the pillows, but her mind kept wandering to Javier. The image of him glistening in the sun, his strong muscles flexing as he fixed her tire, and his confident smile were etched into her memory. She could almost feel the warmth of his presence, and her thoughts began to stir something deep within her.

As she pulled back the covers, her heart raced. She reached into the drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a vibrator. The anticipation made her hands tremble slightly as she pushed aside her underwear. Her mind filled with images of Javier—his firm hands, his chiseled jaw, and the way his uniform hugged his body in all the right places.

Y/N closed her eyes, letting her fantasies take over. She imagined Javier leaning over her, his breath hot against her skin as he whispered in her ear. She turned on the vibrator, the gentle hum sending shivers down her spine. Slowly, she moved it against her slick folds, her body responding eagerly to the sensation.

Her thoughts intensified, picturing Javier’s hands exploring her body, his fingers tracing every curve. She imagined the feel of his lips on her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. Her breathing quickened as the vibrator pulsed against her clit, her hips moving in rhythm with her fantasies.

In her mind, Javier’s voice was a low, seductive growl, telling her how much he wanted her, how beautiful she was. The thought of his strong hands gripping her hips, pulling her closer, made her moan softly. She increased the speed of the vibrator, the pleasure building inside her.

Y/N’s body arched off the bed as she imagined Javier thrusting into her, his body pressed firmly against hers. The fantasy was so vivid, she could almost feel his weight on top of her, the heat of his skin against hers. Her orgasm built rapidly, the sensation overwhelming as she envisioned Javier bringing her to the edge.

With a final thrust of the vibrator, she cried out, her body convulsing with pleasure. Waves of ecstasy washed over her, leaving her breathless and trembling. She lay there for a moment, basking in the afterglow, her mind still filled with images of Javier.

As she turned off the vibrator and set it aside, she smiled to herself. The thought of seeing him again, of maybe getting to know him better, filled her with a new sense of excitement. She pulled the covers over herself, feeling satisfied and drifted off to sleep.

Meanwhile, next door, Javier had just finished his beer and was trying to unwind from his shift. He couldn’t get Y/N out of his mind the way she looked when he first saw her stranded on the side of the road, her grateful smile when he offered to help, and the way she rambled adorably when she brought him the spaghetti. His thoughts wandered to her curves and the spark in her eyes, sending a rush of heat through his body.

Unable to resist, he moved to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He lay down on his bed, unbuttoning his jeans and reaching for himself. As he stroked his growing erection, he imagined Y/N’s soft skin beneath his hands, her moans filling his ears. The fantasy grew more intense, picturing her writhing beneath him, her breathless whispers driving him wild.

Javier’s hand moved faster, his mind lost in the thought of being with Y/N. The pleasure built quickly, his body tensing as he imagined her calling his name, her body arching in ecstasy. With a deep groan, he came, the release leaving him breathless and spent.

As he lay there, recovering from his climax, a smile tugged at his lips. The thought of seeing Y/N again, of possibly exploring whatever this was between them, filled him with a sense of anticipation. Both of them, in their separate homes, drifted off to sleep, their thoughts intertwined with possibilities of what tomorrow might bring.

comment to be added to the taglist

Taglist: @wanniiieeee @sunnytuliptime

NEXT CHAPTER

[pastoralnhappy]

Jonah and the Whale

Chapter 5: The Bishop’s Reward

The sun cast a warm, golden light over the seminary grounds as Jonah made his way to the bishop’s quarters. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, adding to the sense of anticipation that Jonah felt. Today was a special day, a reward brunch for his and his friend’s spiritual devotion and their remarkable journey of growth—both spiritual and physical.

Jonah’s friend, Brother Samuel, walked beside him. The two had grown close over the past months, finding comfort and camaraderie in their shared experiences. They both carried the invitation that had been delivered to them the night before, signed by the bishop himself.

As they arrived at the ornate doors of the bishop’s quarters, they were greeted by a solemn-looking attendant who ushered them inside. The room was richly decorated, with plush furniture and tapestries that depicted scenes from the Bible. At the center of the room, seated on a grand sofa, was Bishop Leonard, a man of dignified presence and kind eyes.

“Welcome, Jonah, Samuel,” Bishop Leonard greeted them with a warm smile. “Please, make yourselves comfortable and remove the burden of your cassock. Today, we celebrate your dedication and the unique journey you have embraced.”

Jonah and Samuel quietly and swiftly undressed and took their seats on the sofa, feeling the softness of the cushions beneath them on their heavy behinds. The bishop gestured to a low table in front of them, laden with an assortment of pastries, croissants, cakes, and other delectable treats. The sight made Jonah’s mouth water.

“You both have shown great spiritual devotion and have grown remarkably,” Bishop Leonard continued. “It is only fitting that we honor that growth with a celebration.”

Jonah and Samuel glanced at each other, their eyes reflecting the same mix of pride and gratitude. They reached for the pastries, their movements almost synchronized. The rich, buttery taste of the croissants filled Jonah’s mouth, each bite a reminder of the blessings they had received.

As they ate, Jonah couldn’t help but notice the way their bodies moved. His belly rested comfortably on his lap, soft and full. Samuel’s body mirrored his own, their shared indulgence evident in the roundness of their forms. The simple white briefs they wore highlighted their curves, a testament to their journey.

Bishop Leonard watched them with a serene expression, his hands resting on his lap. “You see, brothers, our faith teaches us that every part of our journey is sacred. Your growth is a symbol of the abundance of God’s love.”

Jonah felt a deep sense of affirmation as he listened to the bishop’s words. The food, the fellowship, and the acceptance they shared were all part of a greater plan, one that celebrated every aspect of their beings.

As they continued to eat, the bishop shared stories from his own experiences, anecdotes that highlighted the importance of self-acceptance and spiritual growth. Jonah and Samuel listened intently, their hearts and minds nourished by the wisdom and the food before them.

The brunch lasted well into the afternoon, the conversation flowing easily between bites of pastry and sips of sweet, fragrant tea. The atmosphere was one of warmth and camaraderie, a celebration of their journey and the bonds they had formed.

As the meal drew to a close, Bishop Leonard raised his cup in a toast. “To Jonah and Samuel, may your journey continue to be blessed with growth and abundance. May you always find strength in your faith and in the fellowship of your brothers.”

Jonah and Samuel raised their cups, echoing the bishop’s words. The sense of unity and acceptance was overwhelming, filling Jonah with a profound sense of peace and gratitude.

As they left the bishop’s quarters, Jonah whispered a prayer of thanks. He felt blessed to be part of such a loving and accepting community, where every part of his journey was celebrated.

He was a chubby Catholic seminarian, embraced by a brotherhood that valued their growth in every sense. And as he walked beside Samuel, he knew that their journey was just beginning, filled with love, faith, and endless possibilities.

[crisalidaseason]

Twentieth-second entry: Lose your patience!

Sometimes, as someone who mostly needs to keep calm and collected in order to protect, dealing with other people’s emotions is exhausting, specially if you can see the solution right there and they are blatantly ignoring it. That’s when you have to be a little harsh, go a little crazy, scream even. Just make sure people listen.

****

Liam didn’t mind helping people. If something was within his abilities and he had the time to, help was on the way. Countless times he would help his parents by delivering messages or looking out for Sloane, be a distraction whenever Xaden or Bodhi wanted to steal something from the kitchens in Riorson house, get them out of a situation their parents would kill them for, giving advice on things Liam had no experience in but tried his best. Oh, and becoming a bodyguard for a girl whose life was tied to his foster brother’s.

Reiterating, Liam did not mind helping and no favor would be denied if he had the means to help. Therefore, when Xaden and Garrick intercepted him on the way back from solitary library duty, he figured they needed something.

“What’s the order, sir” Liam asked, stopping his cart in front of his brother.

Garrick was already breaking into a wicked smile “Yes, Xaden, what’s the orders?”

The sarcasm in his friend’s voice was enough for Xaden to sigh deeply in exhaustion and for Liam to figure things out

“Oh oh. What did my favorite Sorrengail do this time?”

Garrick snorted “You mean our favorite Sorrengail and Wingleader did”

Xaden sent the man a deadly side glance before turning back to Liam “Ignore him. I need a favor and you’re more than able to do it”

His brother asking for a favor? If the lightning striking from time to time that morning wasn’t attributed to Violet, Liam would probably associate it with his brother’s unusual behavior.

“Glad that you think so highly of me, brother. Ask away”

“He asked Bodhi first, you know?” Garrick revealed with fake disappointment.

“And he said no?” Liam supposed, to which his friend nodded vehemently.

“Bodhi’s busy” Xaden countered.

Or running away from the crazy saddle-making man but Liam refrained from saying it out loud and simply shrugged instead “I’ll help then. Lead the way”

They swiftly returned to the quadrant, hurrying to put the library cart back to its place before striding through the familiar path to the living quarters. Liam lifted a brow once Garrick looked over the shoulder sporting a sneer and Xaden silently guided them towards a random room on the second year floor. The space was empty aside from the standard furniture, but there were vestiges that someone had lived there - the clean spots where books inhabited the shelves, recent dents on the wooden desk, the markings of a wooden desk on the floor.

“What exactly are we doing?”

Xaden put a hand on the top of the armoire “Help me lift it”

“Can’t you use your shadows?” Liam complained.

“I can” his brother simply replied.

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because I don’t want to”

Garrick huffed “You’re insufferable”

Liam groaned in agreement.

“I know” Xaden mustered the best cynical tone possible “now help me lift it”

The three of them, alongside a stream of shadows for balance, lifted the armoire and began their humiliating walk through the hallway. They struggled on the stairs and Liam never felt more thankful that no cadets were around to witness the absolute chaos of Garrick and Xaden cursing at each other because one of them had taken the wrong step. It took an embarrassing amount of minutes until the three of them finally entered the first year floor and reached a familiar set of rooms, stopping in front of Violet’s quarters.

“Why are we-” Liam was about to ask when Xaden let go of the armoire without a warning, making both Liam and Garrick struggle to keep the weight.

He spent a few seconds messing with the strings of power warding Violet’s door and then opened it quickly. A stream of shadows circled around the armoire, lifting and began it into the room. Liam peeked inside and noticed that there were clothes all over his friend’s desk and her own armoire nowhere to be seen. An inquiry was ready to leave his lips when all the pieces snapped into place. Liam looked at Garrick with a choked snort.

“Exactly what you’re thinking, Mairi” the man confirmed.

“Not a word” Xaden growled from inside the room.

Garrick cackled and Liam tried - he really did - to not say anything but the urge was stronger. That entire situation was utterly ridiculous while simultaneously being the funniest thing that had happened in months.

“Had you and Vi waited a little more and the entire floor would have suffered, huh?” Liam teased.

“Not to comment on the generalized forest fire because of all the lightning show” Garrick complemented while nudging Liam on the side.

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped “So that was the reason for all the lightning!”

One of Xaden’s shadows flung at them like a whip, which Garrick successfully dodged but Liam could only raise his arm, the slap against his forearm loud. He cursed at the sting, who would have thought those shadows could be so solid.

“Would you refrain from breaking my nose?” Liam complained “I have a handsome healer in mind”

Xaden did not say a word, barely adjusting the armoire in place before storming out of the room, closing the door more forcefully than usual and taking long strides down the hallway. Liam shared a look with Garrick, both of them slightly confused. Xaden was usually more tolerant of their absolute pestering, taking a while before he lashed out. But at that moment, his brother seemed more stressed than usual that morning.

Violet-Sorrengail stressed.

“You know, I thought finally breaking the obvious sexual tension with little Sorrengail would tame him a little” Garrick mumbled.

“Same” Liam replied “but I think we haven’t considered those two are a disaster”

“Tavis, with me!” Xaden’s voice rumbled through the hallway but he did not look behind to check if Garrick was following “Mairi, go back to your duties”

Liam shook his head in disbelief, all the teasing and fun fading “I think he fucked up”

Garrick snorted “Definitely”

Breakfast was proof that his assumptions were right. For some reason, even tables apart and without sharing a single word, Xaden and Violet seemed to be in a feud and whatever tension they had broken returned a thousand times worse. They were both idiots. First for thinking that their interactions were even remotely discreet with all that staring and second for managing to be even more insufferable than before.

Liam never felt more frustrated.

They were so fucking obviously into one another, disgustingly and equally obsessed. Xaden did not function properly whenever he laid eyes on her and Violet’s focus went to shit whenever his brother was even hinted at.

Time to interfere.

“Are things okay?” Liam nudged Violet while they walked to battle brief, making sure to slow down so the others would not hear. Luckily, Rhiannon seemed to understand they needed a time alone, her knowing gaze only lasting a split second before she looped both her arms around Sawyer and Ridoc, distracting them with a random topic.

“Yeah” she said, but the lie just bled through her features.

He tilted his head and gave her a pointed look “You’re still a horrible liar”

Violet sighed and shook her head in indignation “You could at least pretend to believe me”

Liam pursed his lips, wondering if perhaps he was trespassing her boundaries “You know I’m a good listener, right? No judgements”

“Not when you also report everything to your brother” her tone was far from rude, but he understood the message: Xaden was the issue.

“If it doesn’t put you in danger, then I’ll keep secret” Liam lifted a hand to his heart “swear it on my mother”

Violet’s pale eyes settled on him in a way he had gotten used to, as if assessing the truth in the words. Liam tried not to let the guilt eat him alive, specially considering that he was being truthful in that moment, he would keep her struggle a secret.

“Your brother is as idiotic as he is ruthless” she shrugged.

“That is hardly confidential information, Vi”

She giggled at his response “Then you can report to him, and use my exact words”

“I sure will. Any more insults you’d like me to deliver?”

Violet put a finger on her chin in mock thinking “Let me see…he’s emotionally stunted and a liar”

Liam froze at her last word, his heart panicking for a moment and eyes widening. Did Xaden…No. Had he told Violet something so serious, she would have been furious, not upset. Whatever had transpired between them, it was far from the horrid truth. Calling him emotionally stunted was the proof that his brother had fucked up in another sense. Not that it made things any better.

“I’m sorry” he managed “for whatever he might have said or how he acted. I know Xaden behaves like an asshole, but he’s just…”

“Afraid?” she offered, shrugging “I figured”

They were nearing already entering the academic wing and the conversation would soon lose its moment, Liam had to be quick.

“I’d say he’s terrified. Xaden’s gone too long alone and I think it affected him deeply”

“But he has you” Violet’s brows furrowed “Garrick, Imogen, specially Sgaeyl”

“But it’s different with you, Vi. Has always been”

Violet’s features turned somber “Because of who I am?”

“Depends on how do you see yourself”

He noticed as her demeanor changed, perceptible enough for his sharp eyes but difficult on the common ones. He could see a glimmer of doubt forming in them.

“A Sorrengail” she whispered, eyes on the ground.

“Trust me” Liam whispered back, clasping her uninjured shoulder softly “Your family name is the last thing on Xaden’s mind”

****

The night had fallen for hours when Liam finally knocked on his brother’s door. The sleepiness was practically holding his sight hostage, but he had a personal mission to achieve that day and Liam was nothing if not a man of words. It took several minutes until his brother finally answered the door with an unfriendly face.

“Do you know what time is it?” Xaden narrowed his eyes.

“Past midnight” Liam replied, holding his hand out impatiently.

“Go to sleep, Mairi. We’ll talk tomorrow” His brother began closing the door.

“You close that door and I’ll have Nadine unweave it before I break it open!”

“Who?”

“Pull. Me. In. Xaden!”

Xaden practically growled and violently pulled Liam inside “You’re fucking annoying sometimes”

“And you’re an idiot” Liam said “a completely mad, dramatic, stubborn idiot!”

Xaden sighed, rubbing his face with the palm of his hands “Did you come here just to insult me?”

“And put some sense into your thick skull” Liam complemented, sitting on the desk chair and motioning for his brother to sit on the bed “now sit down and listen”

Xaden could obviously have Liam kicked out using his shadows, or even not cooperated at all. A part of him was ready to fist fight his brother so that conversation had the chance to happen, but instead his brother simply obliged.

“Speak away”

“You fucked up with Violet. Fix it” Liam spilled “and fix it quickly”

Before Xaden could even deny, he simply interrupted.

“Don’t you dare say nothing is wrong. I know you did or said something to upset her”

“That is none of your business, Liam”

“It is!” his nostrils were flaring “it is everyone’s business, Xaden. Your emotions towards Violet affect all of us whether you like it or not. We have to deal with the aftermath of your emotional immaturity all the fucking time!”

At that, his brother scoffed, standing up and going to the door “Leave, Liam. Now”

“Oh no. Not this time, brother. You’re going to listen!”

“My issues with Violet are solved-”

“The fuck it is!” Liam exclaimed “it’s just getting worse! You stop functioning whenever Violet is near, your actions stop making sense, you make stupid mistakes. Violet is also affected by your behavior, I almost knocked her out today during training because of how distracted she was!”

“I’m not going to listen to this nonsense any longer-”

“Nonsense?!” Liam was beyond mad “You know, when Garrick first told me about your obsession with her, before I even knew Violet, I just thought you wanted to send the General a big fuck you by messing with her daughter”

At that, his brother’s left eye was twitching, but he ignored it completely.

“After threshing I was certain you were acting on self preservation and the two of you just needed a good fuck to subside the feud. And then surprise! You not only start to go absolutely dumb whenever she is in the vicinity, but also make daggers and a freaking saddle for her. Fuck, Xaden, you deserted your post in Basgiath and fled to Montserrat because you couldn’t bear stay three days apart from her!”

Xaden was silent, a mask of indifference in his face, but Liam had a good sight. There was surprise in his eyes and he supposed the outburst was indeed out of character.

“Tell me, Xaden, am I speaking nonsense?”

Silence was even louder. Both brothers stared into each other, Liam breathing heavily.

“You’re different ever since she stepped into this quadrant and it’s becoming increasingly worse because you simply won’t stop sabotaging yourself! Violet clearly cares for you-”

“Do not say that!” Xaden’s voice was louder than he ever spoke with Liam, even when they were boys “do not say things you are not certain”

“I am certain! I spend my entire day by her side, Violet is an open book. I know she cares for you”

“But she shouldn't, Liam. That’s the point! I can’t let her care for me, I can’t let her in!”

Liam shook his head in disbelief “It doesn’t fucking matter, Xaden. It doesn’t matter anymore, it’s too late. She cares and you have to accept that”

Xaden was looking past the window across the room, his arms crossed and fingers whitening with how strongly they gripped the skin of his biceps.

“It won’t last long so I might as well start keeping my distance now. There is too much bad blood and dangers between me and her”

Liam stared at his brother in disbelief and the bitter taste of failure flooded his tongue. Speaking with Xaden about those kinds of topics always brought that feeling to the surface. He wondered if his brother would ever leave that nonsensical world of isolation and self punishment, if he would ever let someone in and truly really care for his damaged soul. Liam had not been the only one to try and pull Xaden out of that habit, but he knew the others had grown hopeless…just like Liam himself was.

At that point, could anyone make Xaden see he was worthy of love?

“I never thought you’d lie to yourself, brother”

[drabblesandimagines]

Coffee

Rei x reader (reader request)

-

You’re an idiot. An oblivious fool. How did it get this far before you’d put two and two together? Scratch that, you hadn’t even put it all together! You thought they were just being nice, neighbourly, friendly… But you’d mentioned the latest sweet thing the two had done for you over dinner with your friend and they’d given you a look - absolutely baffled at your naivety.

You’d been moving in across the hall. The removals company you’d hired had been great, dropping the boxes exactly where directed, but of course you still had to unpack the dang things. You’d been back and forth to the recycling facilities a few times that morning when there was a knock at the door. If you’d had a mirror up on the wall, you would’ve seen exactly how much of a hot mess you looked and probably have ignored the door. However, there were a few things you were expecting to be delivered today, so you opened the door and were surprised to see two handsome men - one cheerful blonde and one sullen-looking dark-haired – neither holding a package for delivery, but a pile of Tupperware and a bottle of lemonade.

You hurriedly wipe the glean of sweat you’re positive is across your forehead, wishing all the sudden you weren’t in your sweatpants and looked a little more put together in front of the two extremely handsome men in your doorway. “Hi!” It sounds a little squeaky.

“Hi – sorry, we know we’re disturbing you, but we just wanted to introduce ourselves. I’m Kazuki and this is Rei, we live just across the hall.” He tilts his head up to signal the door behind him in lieu of pointing due to his full hands. “I know how hectic moving day can be and it’s important to remember to eat, so we thought we’d bring over a ‘welcome to the building’ gift of some lunch.” He holds up the pile of Tupperware. “All hand-made by yours truly.” A wink.

“Oh, thank you. That’s… incredibly kind.” You step back and open the door wider, introducing yourself. “Erm, probably easier if you come in and pop those down. Excuse the chaos…”

It wasn’t long after they offered to give you a hand with unpacking – Kazuki said he was a master at all things flat-pack and quake-proofing heavy furniture, and Rei had been eyeing up your games consoles and TV before hooking it all up masterfully, even tidying away the wires so they weren’t even in sight. With their help across the next couple of days, your apartment was soon finished, everything in its rightful place.

You’d invited the two over for dinner as a thank you – nothing fancy, pizza and beers – watching a terrible action movie before playing some games. The friendship had only progressed from there. They had an odd work schedule, you noted, sometimes they were gone for a few days at a time, some weeks they didn’t seem to work at all. You’d water the plants, take the mail in, keep an eye on the place when they were away. It’s neighbourly, after all.

Kazuki would invite you round for dinner almost weekly – he said it was nice to have someone appreciate his cooking, a pointed glare at Rei. You and Rei were making multiplayer on a new quest-based game, staying up far too late trying to reach the next save point, whilst Kazuki sat snoring behind you.

When you were sick one time, Kazuki brought over soup and medicine. When you had any issues technology-wise, Rei was always on hand to sort it out - even replacing lightbulbs. You felt incredibly blessed to have such wonderful neighbours, and that’s how the topic of conversation had come up over dinner with a friend. They were complaining about their neighbours – noisy, inconsiderate – and you’d explained how Kazuki and Rei just couldn’t seem to do enough for you.

“Okay,” they lean forward and grab your hand, “please tell me you know these men are just trying to woo you.”

You laugh at that, but the look on their face says they’re not joking.

You shake you head, pulling your hand back. “No, they’re just being nice. Kazuki’s a flirt with everyone and Rei’s… Rei. They’re my friends, that’s all.”

“We’re friends and have I ever done half of that stuff for you?”

“No, but…”

“We were room-mates, I sure wasn’t going to look after your sick ass. I slept across the hall for the week, remember?”

“Well, maybe you were just a bad friend.” You retaliate.

“Maybe I was, but that doesn’t change the fact those two are flirting with you.”

You go to make a retort but, slowly, the pieces are falling into place. They were pretty interested whenever you mentioned going out for drinks or dinner with someone other than them, asking if it was a date. If it was, they then wanted to know exactly where you were going and to text when you were safely home, even if they were away. That was just friendly concern, being alone in a big city and meeting up with a friend of a friend or just strangers off the internet. After all, there could be some complete creeps out there and it felt reassuring to know the two were looking out for you.

There were lingering touches from the both of them. Kazuki loved to hug on hello and goodbye, often draping an arm around your shoulder and squeezing whenever you were stood near each other. Rei always sat deliberately close to you, his arm pressed up against yours, even though their sofa could fit around four adults comfortably. When you’d had to fly home for the weekend, they’d given you a lift to the airport at an unearthly hour, seeing you all the way up to the security gate, and then they were there at arrivals again on your return. When there’d be a small earthquake, they’d forced their way into your apartment, checking you were okay – insisting you came over to theirs for any aftershocks. Even Rei had hugged you that day on seeing you unhurt, Kazuki pressing a kiss against your forehead…

“I am an idiot.”

--

It’s a little after nine when you knock on the door. You’d been up all night, debating what to do, though there was still a niggle of doubt that they didn’t like you that way and your friend had just jumped to a ridiculous conclusion. But, a larger part of your brain argued, it wouldn’t be so bad if they did, would it? Well, one of them more than the other. You’d be a liar if you hadn’t thought or dreamt about one of the men in a certain way before…

Rei answers, looking a little tired – you’re not sure if you’ve woken him up or if he hasn’t been to bed yet either.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No. You okay?” He frowns, looking you up and down.

“Yeah, just a little tired. Erm, is Kazuki in?”

“Ah”, he nods, still frowning. “No, he…” He pauses, debating whether he should be honest or not, but decides against it. “He should be back later though. Can I help?”

“I was just hoping to speak to you both – together. It’s all right, I’ll come back later…” You turn to go when his hand catches your sleeve.

“I’m making some coffee, if you’d like some? That is, if you don’t mind waiting with me.”

“Coffee sounds great, actually.”

It’s a nice morning – warm enough that Rei suggests sitting out on the balcony. You’re a little envious of their set-up, your one-bedroom apartment is a lot smaller than theirs and the fact they have outdoor space, but there is two of them and their job seems to keep them comfortable enough.

You’re sat in a comfortable silence, watching the river below – every so often a boat sailing past. Maybe you should take a boat ride, it might be fun to be a tourist in your own city…

“It’s okay.”

You turn to Rei, confused, had you said one of your thoughts out loud?

“What’s okay?”

“You and Kazuki. I’m happy for the two of you.” He takes a sip of his coffee, wincing, though you’re not convinced it’s from the bitter caffeine.

“What?”

“That’s what you’ve come to talk to us about, right? You’ve decided.”

Your eyes widen, “No. Not at all. I’m an idiot. I only found out that you were two were interested in me last night.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You found out? Kazuki assured me our intentions were perfectly clear and you just needed time.”

“Well, maybe you want to rethink your intentions because it turns out I’m entirely clueless. I thought you were just being friendly, but I was talking to my friend last night and they pointed it out. I was up all night thinking back and it’s all so painfully obvious.” You take a gulp of your own coffee.

“So, you’ve not decided?”

You put down the coffee cup slowly. “If… If I have decided, I wouldn’t want it to ruin your friendship with each other. That’s the last thing I’d want to do, I’d much rather we all remain friends than risk that.”

“No. We agreed from the start that, whatever the outcome, we wouldn’t let it get between us. Just…” he hesitates. “..maybe don’t make out in front of me.”

“That…” you swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. “That might be difficult.”

“Can’t you just take it to his bedroom at least?” Rei scowls, taking another sip of his coffee as you reply.

“I’m not sure how much Kazuki would like me making out with you in his bedroom.”

That catches him off guard and he inhales the liquid, coughing and spluttering in surprise. You wait for him to catch his breath, though his cheeks are now flushed red.

“You… you want me?”

You nod. “Yes.”

“Why?!”

“You don’t sound thrilled. Were you hoping it would be Kazuki?”

“Just everyone loves him, he’s handsome and cheerful and good at cooking and I’m… I’m me.”

“Kazuki is all of those things, but you’re also handsome and fun and sweet and… I like you.”

The door opens within the apartment then, interrupting the conversation. “I’m home! You up?”

“We’re on the balcony,” Rei calls back, face entirely red.

Kazuki appears, in the clothes you saw him leave the apartment yesterday. Did he spend the night elsewhere? He’s surprised to see the two of you on the balcony at this early hour.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure?” He grins, sweetly, approaching the sliding doors. He takes in Rei’s and yours flushed expressions. “Wait, am I interrupting something?”

You stand up, taking a step towards the blonde. “Kind of. Erm, Kazuki, you’re a great guy and all, but…”

“Ah!” Kazuki looks again between the two of you before he grins, genuinely, “At last! Well, I won’t lie – I’m a little heartbroken, but I’ll pick myself back up. If it were anyone but Rei…” He shrugs. “He’s a good man, and the better man won. Not that you’re a trophy or anything!” He rubs the back of his head, nervously.

“But we’ll still be friends, right? I don’t want to do anything to risk our friendship.” You look between the two of them. “It’s really important to me.”

“Of course we will!” Kazuki pulls you into a brief hug. “You won’t get rid of me that easily. Now, tell me, what’s the plan for the first date?” He looks between the two of you, eagerly.

“Date…?” Rei questions.

“We hadn’t…” you hold back a yawn. “..got that far.”

“Jeez, have the two of you even slept? Off to bed – separately – please.” He stresses. “Get your beauty rest whilst I find the two of you the most perfect restaurant for dinner. Go.” Kazuki pushes you gently back into the apartment, leaving Rei on the balcony.

“Thanks, Kazuki. Erm, see you later, Rei.” You smile timidly, before turning and heading towards the door, already thinking of the warm embrace of your bed…

“Yeah. Thanks, Kazuki.” Rei gets to his feet, slinging an arm around the blonde’s shoulders. “I promise we won’t make out in your bed.”

“..what?!” -- Masterlist. Requests welcome. Ko-fi.

[dawneternal]

Take the World in Your Hands | Eris x Elain | Ten

Summary: Eris's brothers catch wind of his proposal to Nesta. They plan to find and deliver her to their father as a gift, surely winning his favor. Their plan takes a turn when they kidnap the wrong Archeron sister and Eris finds her in the Autumn Court dungeon.

Notes: I in no way mean to imply that Elain IS a wretch for having been with Eris, I just think she feels guilty for having that secret even though her time with Eris helped her make a lot of emotional progress

Warnings: none for this chapter

Word Count: 1.7k

AO3 Link / Masterlist

Elain stood in front of the wooden door, studying its weathered texture, as she waited for the courage to knock.

She had heard the snap of Eris winnowing as she walked up the path. But then she kept waiting, even though he was gone. If she could show up to the Night Court in a scandalous dress to piss off the High Lord, she should be able to do this.

There was no choice, with Eris gone.  She had asked him to leave before she reached the door for that reason. Now, that seemed like a very stupid idea. If Lucien said no to her request, he'd have to take her back to the Night Court himself.

Elain drew a deep breath and knocked. There were footsteps, a pause, and then the door swung open. There was Lucien. He blinked and took a step back.

"Elain?" He asked, scanning her for injuries, searching her face for any signs of bad news. His gaze caught on the bag in her arms and his brows furrowed.

"Hello," Elain blushed, her voice softer than she would have liked. "I need to ask a favor of you."

Lucien blinked for another moment, his golden eye whirring. Then he seemed to find himself and stepped aside. Elain strode past him and into the foyer, immediately catching sight of Vassa and Jurian peering around the corner from the living room. They saw that they'd been caught and disappeared.

"You...smell like my brother," Lucien said, incredulous.

"Yes, he's the one who brought me here," Elain blushed deeper. She knew she had scrubbed any salacious notes from her skin, but of course must still smell like him. It was a long way from the Night Court to the human realm.

"Let's sit," Lucien said, growing more puzzled and awkward by the minute.

He led her into the living room and Elain bit back a smile at the sight of the mismatched furniture and gaudy decorations. This is not where she would have pictured Lucien, but it was endearing.

Elain sat on a plush couch that was a horrid shade of pink and set her bag beside her. Lucien took a seat across from her in a ragged corduroy armchair. She tried very hard to ignore the fierce, whispered argument from the other room. Lucien appeared to be doing the same and trying not to roll his eyes.

"So," Elain cleared her throat, "I suppose I should start by saying that nothing is wrong and no one's in danger. It's just that I've cause a bit of drama and I was hoping I could stay until it blows over."

"Go on," Lucien leaned back in his chair, watching her intently.

"Your brothers tried to kidnap me."

"What?" Lucien cried and pushed to his feet, just as Elain had predicted.

"They thought I was Nesta," She explained, clinging tightly to her wits, "And they wanted to bring me to your father as a gift. Since Eris proposed to her."

"Eris proposed to Nesta?" Lucien's eyes widened as he flopped back down. "A gift to my father?"

"Yes, that's what I said when I heard, too," Elain wrung her hands as she spoke, "Eris rescued me from your brothers and he took me to his safe house. He was really hurt and they used faebane, so he had to wait a few days to take me home. He was worried that if he called for someone it would make more trouble."

"I see," Lucien murmured, raking his fingers through his hair. His russet eye was bright and wild, golden eye whirring at the same rapid speed of his thoughts.

"And we kind of came up with a plan," Elain added sheepishly, shoulders drawing up in anxiety.

Lucien raised his eyebrows and said nothing, though his face looked a little paler.

"Rhysand made me very angry recently and I wanted to...piss him off," Elain sighed, her nervousness clouding her ability to find more proper words. The twitch of Lucien's lips did not escape her.

"So I went with him to a feast at the Hewn City and we pissed Rhysand off."

This was the part that Elain had fretted over. The part that she had no idea how Lucien would react to. Half of her was relieved that the bargain kept her from telling truth about how intimate she had been with Eris. Perhaps that made her some sort of villain. But she was not sure how much she owed Lucien. She did not like the idea of owing anyone her body.

Lucien was still for a moment, his face expressionless. And then his lips quirked up into a smile.

"Elain and my brother scheming together? What did Rhysand do to deserve that?" He chuckled. Elain had forgotten how lovely his voice was. Melodic and smooth.

"Probably not enough," She admitted, her own smile forming, "But I do have the Archeron temper, after all."

"Noted," Lucien said, looking a little bewildered, tucking a strand of copper hair behind his ear.

He was so like Eris in some ways. The color of his hair, his Autumn-hued eye. The sharp features that made him distinctly Vanserra. But sometimes she forgot how one of a kind Lucien was. The straight angle of his nose and the deep bronze of his skin were original, along with the long scar that painted its story across his face. Lucien was his own kind of breathtaking.

"You're not angry that I was with Eris?" Elain chewed her lip.

"You seem to be in one piece," Lucien said, eyes glancing over her as if to double check, "And he would know better than to bring you here if he'd hurt you. I'd kill him and he knows it. So, if you're alright, then no, I'm not mad."

"I'm alright," Elain nodded, relief flooding her body, "I actually had fun. I think he's my friend, now."

"That is the most unsettling thing you've told me," Lucien declared, though he was smiling. He stood and swept Elain's bag from the couch. "I'll show you to the guest room so you can rest and I can digest all of this."

"Of course," Elain said, scrambling after him, "And you can still say no and I'll find somewhere else to go."

"Why would I say no?" Lucien said softly, turning to face her.

Because I am a wretch, Elain thought, a lump rising in her throat. She couldn't make any words come out.

"You can stay as long as you want," He said, more tenderly than she deserved. She would try to be worthy of him. That would be her goal, from now on.

"You'll regret saying that once you grow sick of me," She tried to joke, giving him a watery smile.

Lucien laughed and gave her a soft smile. He led her to a room down the hall and placed her bag in the simple bed.

"It's not much," Lucien said, turning to leave, "But it's comfortable. And you'll like Vassa and Jurian."

He was halfway out the door when Elain croaked, from the middle of the dim room, "Lucien."

He whirled and took in her trembling bottom lip, her hands wringing each other. He fought the urge to go to her and pull her into his arms.

"Thank you," She said, voice breaking.

Still at war with himself, Lucien only nodded and smiled before closing the door.

When he turned around, Vassa and Jurian were at the top of the stairs, gesturing wildly and whispering cheers. Vassa began a victory dance and Jurian began a string of crude gestures. Lucien scoffed and grabbed them both by the ear, dragging them away before Elain could hear their ridiculous behavior.

Lucien slumped into his chair, staring at the cluttered desk of his study. He had locked the door behind him but he did not have long before his friends were pestering him once again. He did not blame them much. Elain's appearance was quite an unprecedented event.

But he needed a moment to wrap his head around it and calm the humming of the bond in his chest. Just a moment to collect himself.

He paused as he caught the letter sitting on a pile of papers and envelopes. Eris's stationery, sealed with his signet. Lucien sighed, hoping for the best, and unfolded the note.

Lucien,

Assuming Elain has told you what our brothers have done. Do not worry, they will be punished.

She is a gem. Take good care of her or she will slip through your fingers. But don't treat her too softly or you will lose her all the same.

Apologies, brother. For many things.

Eris

Nothing of Eris, nothing of his wound or how well he was healing. Typical. Selflessness hiding behind arrogance. Advice about his own mate.

Lucien scoffed and tossed the letter away. He was not stupid, he could piece together his brother's apology, Elain's blush, and the dual purpose of that cabin in the woods. There was much more to the story than what Elain had given. About Eris, about Rhysand, about all of it.

But all he could really bring himself to care about was that she was here. That Eris had acted on a positive impulse for once and managed to keep Elain from becoming a sacrifice to his wicked father.

The territorial instincts from the bond buzzed in his veins, but he ignored them. Elain had made no commitment to him. Elain was her own creature. As shy and kind and sweet as Elain was painted to be, she would do nothing that she did not want to do. It had been her choice to come here.

And yet somehow, Eris had a part in convincing her to come here. He must have, because nothing else had changed between Lucien and Elain. All he knew now was that the only way to keep Elain would be to welcome her just as she was.

Lucien's thoughts shifted to his brother. To the ominous threat of punishment. He hoped desperately that Eris would not do something stupid and get himself hurt or worse by those brutes.

He found himself picking up his pen and beginning a letter to his brother. Something he had not done in a very long time.