#whatever. it don’t matter. i saw this comin’

[supernatural-bias]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: billy butcher, hughie campbell, frenchie, mothers milk, kimiko, and soldier boy

↳ warnings: canon type violence and happenstances. hinted to take place during season three at some points.

↳ notes: sorry butcher is in here so much. he's the kind of guy that can't shut the fuck up, so i feel like he's always getting in everyone business no matter what

↳ song: rock me like a hurricane—scorpions

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

• He has mixed feelings about you

• On one hand, you’re a great team player. Always making sure the job gets done, willing to put yourself on the line for the team, one of the most willing to kill a supe in a snap—second only to him—and always managing to make shit up on the fly whenever something inevitably goes wrong on a mission. Butcher has seen you fend off an entire team of armed Vought men before with nothing but a well timed lie and piece of pipe. That’s not something to scoff at, even if he does anyways

• But on the other hand, he has a feeling that you were just as much as an annoying shit as he acted sometimes

• “Sorry to say this guys—“ You said one night through the food in your mouth as Chinese takeout sat on a dirty table in front of you, curtesy of M.M and his pocketbook, “—but I think I’d betray you all for a fortune cookie. I’d betray my country for a fortune cookie.”

• "You say that like we ain’t already betrayin’ the cunts, sunshine.” Butcher eyed you from across the room as you nicked Frenchies own cookie from him while he was staring off at Kimiko for the tenth time that night

• “Too right, Butch.” You grinned like a shark at your idiotic nickname for him, and he ignored you as you did so; like he always did

• He definitely appreciates your enthusiasm behind his plans. Unlike Hughie or M.M, who despite working in the business of taking down supes seem to be hesitant about doing too much shit, you don’t seem to have a very strong moral code. That’s not necessarily a good thing in anyone’s eyes except for Butcher’s, who knows that he can always count on you to have his back in whatever situation he manages to squeeze himself into

• “Thanks for comin’.” He grunted at you while vomiting into a toilet, green bile spewing from his mouth. Butcher’s eyes burned with the urge to let out a laser beam, and he did so for a moment, splitting the porcelain throne we was leaning over in two

• “Want me to hold your hair back for you, honey?” You didn’t even miss a beat to start making fun of his situation, which made Butcher growl at you even from his current position. Despite your sarcastic demeanor in the moment, and the way he had just scorched an unexpected hole through the shitty bathroom, Butcher knew you’d help, no questions asked. And that’s exactly what you did, grabbing whatever he asked you to as he gave you a run down on the latest solo mission he had been attempting to get by with on his own

• “Jesus, poor Gunpowder huh?” You mused as you crossed your arms and leaned on the sink above him. For a moment Butcher thought you were granting the dead supe a bit of sympathy before he saw the glint in your eyes. “If the last thing I saw before I kicked it was your mug, I’d probably wanna get it over with yeah?”

• “Do me a favor. Go grab the toaster in the other room an’ take a nice bath with it, would ya?”

• “You first, Butcher.”

𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥

• The two of you are like peas in a pod. Two very weird, very cautious peas in a pod

• Even if Butcher is beside himself with annoyance at having another, as he put it, “soft cunt with a morality complex,” join the team, Hughie couldn’t be happier that someone seems to share his values on supes, on Vought; on the world, really

• In the first season or so, the two of you would probably spend a lot of time in between working with everyone else in the field to come up with a way to take Vought down the right way. Eventually,as we all know, that later falls apart, but it exhilarates Hughie to know that there’s people out there like him that want to try and put in the effort for things like that

• “Yeah, so if we can get one more witness about the Termite incident to come forward and testify—“ You bit your pen between your teeth and nodded as Hughie waved his hands over a stack of papers and talked at a million miles an hour, somehow understanding each and every word.

• “—then we could finally take a supe down legally. And that would make way for a whole round of others; Hughie you’re a genius.” You finished his sentence for him, slapping a hand down on the table with a grin as Hughie smiled. Somewhere in the distance someone snorted wryly, no doubt having heard the entire conversation. You had no doubt it was Butcher, but that didn’t matter to the either of you with how happy you were at the revelation. No matter how temporary it would turn out to be

• Hughie finds himself trusting you quite a bit. He can get attached pretty easily, so he finds himself willing to do anything to back you up—within reason of course. He still has some semblance of sanity left

• Listens to Billy Joel with you! Doesn’t matter if you all are coming back from a mission covered in blood—once it was whale guts—he will stick one earbud in and leave the other out for you as he presses play on a mix. More than once the others have found both of you passed out and snoring as the faint sound of Billy Joel plays through the headphones

• “Think we should wake them up, mon amie?” Frenchie tilts his head as he looks down on the both of you. Hughie chest rises and falls with a softness he couldn’t afford on the regular. You were positioned far away from him to have your back to him, somehow keeping your end of the earbud in as you drooled

• “Nah, let em sleep. God knows they need it.” M.M shook his head with crossed arms, the sight reminding him of better times

• “Oi! Stop ogling at the knackered sods and come help me with this, would ya?”

• “Fuck you, Butcher.” M.M said with a sigh, leaving the room to go and help anyway

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞

• He fucks with you so hard

• I mean, come on, someone that’s as excited about making bombs as he is? Someone that is willing to understand French? To shit talk everyone else to their face—especially Butcher?? He might have to marry you on the spot

• Please learn French. He will literally beg you to start. Conjugates, vocabulary, even a simple ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. Anything at all. Will absolutely not judge you for your horrific accent or pronunciation if you have any

• Bomb lessons on the side, too. If you already know the basics, or are a pro, it’ll be a lot more breezy, but he’s willing to start from scratch. It’ll be nice to have a partner to help him with his creations on the team for once, and even better since he likes you

• The two of you, and Kimiko obviously, are practically joined at the hip. What I said about the shit talking earlier was real, too. All of you use different languages or sign to voice whatever you’re thinking. It’s nice to be able to speak your mind freely, and there’s the added bonus of not having M.M give you that sharp look of his, or Butcher calling you names. Anymore than usual, that is

• “What do you reckon the three of ‘em are always on about?” Butcher took a swig from his drink. He was sitting next to Hughie with a beer on one of their down days as the younger man typed away on a computer. He was watching you Frenchie and Kimiko from across the room as you all signed at each other with giant smiles on your face. Frenchie would speak occasionally, but all that came out was his mother tongue, and your face would pause for a moment as you let your brain process what he was saying. Then all of you would break out into another round of grins, something that Butcher had to deadpan at

• “Probably planning a coup.” Hughie answered Butcher without even looking up from his screen. He knew who he was talking about anyways. It wasn’t hard to guess thanks, to the occasional loud exclamation from Frenchie as you signed something particularly risqué or funny

• Butcher flitted his eyes away in annoyance from you all after he recognized the word ‘cunt’ in the passing conversation, along with a sign that was clearly supposed to represent him

• “I think at this poin’ I’d prefer tha’.” He grumbled into his cup, and all of you laughed

• “Cheer up, Butcher. At least Frenchie isn’t teaching them how to make homemade cherry bombs again.”

• “Shut up.”

𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤

• Finally. Someone other than him can be the voice of reason in the group

• It’s tiring being the one to hold everyone together all of the time. It might help if Butcher wasn’t so much of an ass, or if Hughie didn’t feel the need to derail every plan with thoughts of his own, but M.M knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. So he’d take any help he could get with reigning everyone in

• Definitely bonds with you over your shared habit of wearing band t-shirts to meetups or hideouts. I’d like to imagine that at one point the both of you show up wearing the exact same one, and it goes exactly how one would expect

• “Same shirt.” M.M notices one morning, pointing at your torso with the initials N.W.A written over it. He’s smiling, and so are you as what he’s wearing in turn dawns on you

• “Same shirt!! Hell yeah.”

• Fist bumps. Fist bumps galore, man. The two of you fist bump a lot. To punctuate sentences, drive a point home, agree on stuff—anything. It’s your own way of communicating with each other without having to bat an eye

• It’ll take M.M a while, but eventually he’ll start to really open up about missing his family to you. Beyond just showing you pictures of his daughter at soccer practice, I mean. If he trusts you enough to have his back in a shoot out, then he trusts you with this

• At one point, it goes farther than his (regrettably ex) wife and daughter, and eventually branches out into what he’s willing to tell about his dad and brothers. You feel like you know all of them by the time he’s done, and that only makes the typewriter story hit harder when he finally decides to reveal it

• Let’s just say you were pretty willing to jump Soldier Boy on M.M’s half the first time you were left in a room with them

• “Just one swing I swear—“

• “He will literally beat you into a pulp.” M.M deadpanned, doing his best to avoid looking at the other imposing figure in the room as he clasped two hands on either of your shoulders

• “Listen to your friend, sweetheart. Would hate to have to scrub my hands clean of any of your blood. Getting under the fingernails is always hard.”

• “See what I mean, just one punch that’s all—“

• “No.”

𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐨

• It’s honestly great for her to be able to hang around someone that feels the same way that she does. Maybe it’s how silent you are that really draws her attention at first, but Kimiko really grows to appreciate you as a member of the team

• Probably gets a lot of joy from having a friend like you. She constantly asks to do things like have you watch movies with her or to do ‘sleepovers,’ which are really just the two of you crashing on the main room couch together

• She never got a chance at a normal childhood or friends, so you and Frenchie are the closest she gets to a peace of mind

• Not even a question about it, she’s making you learn her sign language

• Will stare at you for days on end, saying nothing but everything at the same time until you agree to learn. Once you do, it’s all over. She gets the biggest most happiest look anyone ever seen, and there’s no turning back from that

• “Kimiko, what are you doing. It’s two in the morning.” You groan at her from under the thin covers of your bed, doing your best to ignore her hands as they fly about. It’s the childish equivalent of ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’

• ‘No time to sleep. We have to go over stuff before the mission tomorrow. It will help us communicate.’ She was unnerved by your lack of enthusiasm. If anything it only spurred her on more, shaking your bed and pulling at your covers as you groaned. Even with the progress you had been making with signing over the past few weeks, your knowledge was still a bit shaky, and being half asleep didn’t help, so you only caught a few words. Enough to know what she wanted, however

• “Go away, Kimiko.” You whined. The shaking stopped, and for a moment you thought your request had worked. You were more than happy to fall back into whatever dream you had been having beforehand

• Then you heard the rushing of feet and a large weight slammed onto your legs

• “Goddamnit!—“

• Frenchie found the both of you the next morning; Kimiko looking bright eyed and bushy-tailed while you were practically falling asleep from where you sat. It was a teasing point for you over the next two weeks

• Between you, there’s moments like that where, despite Kimiko’s silence and your habit to keep your thoughts to yourself, nothing ever goes unseen or unsaid. The two of you know each other like the back of your hands, and sometimes you wonder if you’d even need her sign to communicate

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲

• If the saying ‘this town ain't big enough for the both of us’ could apply here, it absolutely would

• It’s almost ironic how bad Soldier Boy handles another version of himself. You’ve got just as much snark and anger as him, and it pisses him the hell off. Constantly.

• Maybe it’s because you didn’t fan boy over him as soon as he flashed a few cheesy lines that keeps his disdain for you boiling, or that you didn’t keep your distance when he threatened to eradicate your entire bloodline if you didn’t stop running your mouth at him

• “Need help with that?” He cocks a brow at you one day, watching with poorly hidden annoyance as you struggle to tie a knot in your shoes for the fifth time in a minute. The offer isn’t serious, and even if it was, he has no doubt you wouldn’t hesitate to kick him in the face if he bent down to tie your shoe for you

• “Need help taking my dick down your throat?” You parroted back at him while raising your voice in a false-happy tone. Finally you get the shoestrings to cooperate, completely missing the way Soldier Boy glows in a harsh warning at your attitude

• “Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty.” Butcher calls from the room over, no doubt tired of the bickering between the two of you that had been nonstop for the past few days. “Let’s get a move on before one of you decides to claw the others bloody eyes out, yeah?”

• The fact that you’re not even a supe just ticks him off more. Only a few people have ever pushed his buttons like this, most of them being supes, and they always ended up being nothing but red paste in the next few minutes

• You make sure to point it out to him several times that you’re just acting like he always does, making sure to don a shit eating grin when he clenches his fist at your comment

• Please for the love of everything that’s holy tone it the fuck down. Some people may say that Soldier Boy has no self-control, but it sure is taking a whole lot of it not to kick you in the crotch as hard as possible

• “The feelings mutual.” You deadpan at him when he eventually shares that fantasy out loud. He knew full well that if you even so much as tried that, you’d end up with a broken ankle and your front pinned to the closest brick wall, but he had no doubts that you would go for it anyway

• Seriously. How has he not murdered you in your sleep yet

[msilwrites]

Trouble - ( Johnny 'Soap' Fic)

Hot, whatever size/colour/ethnicity you are, you are hot in Johnny's Eyes! Reader, Soap is smitten with you! Reader, Agent! Reader, Reboot! Johnny, Reboot! Soap, but he is Captain! Soap (Now!!), Captain! Johnny, Captain! Soap, Fuckboi! Soap, Manwhore! Soap, Judgemental! Johnny, Judgemental! Soap, Shameless! Soap, Cocky! Soap

Soap x Reader , Soap x Y/N ,

Edit: This is Part 1 | Click here for Part 2 | Part 3 ( In Progress)

Summary: Captain Johnny Soap MacTavish never believed in love at first sight—until he saw you at the pub. A vision of confidence, beauty, and allure, you had his attention from the moment you walked in. But Johnny, ever the impulsive Scotsman, couldn’t help jumping to the wrong conclusion. He misjudged you, mistaking your grace and poise for the airs of a spoiled rich princess or, worse, the temptations of a high-end escort.

Yet, even as he wrestled with his assumptions, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting you—craving you. His fascination with you became a stubborn obsession, and Johnny MacTavish was never one to back down from a challenge. No matter how many mistakes he made or how far you tried to run, he was determined to prove one thing: you were meant to be his, no matter what it took.

A/N:

FIRST—

This story is part of the Midnight Snack Mystery and Papa Bear Material universe. (If you’re Ghost or Price’s wife, feel free to identify as whichever one you are—this is your world too!)

The character in this story is still You (Y/N), but that is only if you identify as Soap’s “birdie,”!!

Soap’s already been promoted to Captain here, so feel free to enjoy that new title. Actually, everyone’s been promoted. Yep, Soap survived Makarov’s shot to the head—deal with it, that’s our canon now! (In this universe!! Lol!!)

Enjoy Soap’s audacity and the smutty goodness ahead!

Genre: Comedy / Smut

Warning : SMUT, MDNI! and Soap's audacity

----------

Soap leaned against the pool table, cue stick in hand, half-heartedly watching the game. The pub was lively as always, but his attention kept wandering. Roach lined up his shot, muttering something about taking his time, while Gaz leaned on the wall, spinning a cue in his hand like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Soap’s eyes drifted to the booth in the corner, where Price sat with Mrs. Price, sharing a crawfish boil with Ghost and Mrs. Riley. The sight would’ve been unthinkable a few years ago. Ghost—Ghost—was married now, cracking shells and laughing softly at something his missus said. And Price? The man who’d had nothing but the job his entire career was now semi-retired, director of SpecGru, and properly tied down.

Gaz was engaged, for goodness’s sake. And even bloody Roach, who swore he’d “die a free man,” had found a girl.

Soap huffed, lining up his shot but not really seeing it. “Look at ‘em,” he muttered, his accent thick with irritation. “Big, scary bastards all soft now ‘cause they’ve got a lass at home. Gaz, Ghost, Price—bloody hell, even Roach. What’s the world comin’ to?”

Gaz chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Maybe the problem isn’t them, mate. Maybe it’s you.”

Soap snorted. “Aye, right. Next thing I know, you’ll be tellin’ me tae go pick out curtains.”

Roach laughed, sinking his shot. “Don’t worry, Johnny. You’ll catch up. Eventually.”

Soap grumbled, shaking his head. He couldn’t help but grimace, thinking about the path that got him here. “Catch up,” he muttered. “More like they bloody dragged me up.”

When Price stepped back, and Ghost finally accepted promotions to Captain, then Major, and eventually Lieutenant Colonel—shocker of the century—the entire team dynamic shifted. Ghost, the man who’d spent his whole career avoiding a desk, settled down and took on a higher rank just before getting married. Meanwhile, Price transitioned from Captain to Director of SpecGru, semi-retired and making it look effortless.

And then there was Soap. They wouldn’t leave him alone, dragging the whole squad up to higher posts and hauling Johnny along with them, whether he liked it or not. Price and Ghost had pushed him—no, threatened him—into Sandhurst. His Lt. Col had personally shoved him into the officer training program, with Price backing it up and General MacMillan himself throwing in his weight.

The memory made him scowl. He could still hear Ghost’s dry tone, clear as day: “Get yer act together, Johnny. We’re not leavin’ you behind.”

Soap sighed. He didn’t mind being Captain, not really, but the way they’d strong-armed him into it still stung. Especially now, watching the lot of them with their missuses, their lives looking settled and... content.

They’d gone from being his squadmates to practically running the show—Price as Director, Ghost as a Lieutenant Colonel—and it was like they’d made it their mission to drag their Sergeant up the ranks with them. Now here he was: Captain MacTavish, earning more money than ever and still too stingy to spend it on anything but his motorbike, cheap pints, and the occasional takeaway.

Not that he couldn’t afford a girlfriend now—hell, he could’ve afforded one when he was a Sergeant—but back then, he’d been more about quick flings and less about commitment. Now? Now he didn’t even have that. Just the ghost of his own damn jealousy watching his mates turn into family men.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but damn it, he envied them. Even Ghost, who’d been the least likely candidate for settling down, had found someone who could see past the mask—literally and figuratively. Price, Roach, Gaz—they all had someone. And Soap? He was still here, drinking cheap beer and pretending it didn’t bother him.

Then the pub door opened, and all thoughts scattered.

She walked in like she owned the place. Her wavy hair caught the dim light, and the way she moved—confident, smooth—drew his eye immediately. The corset top she wore hugged her figure in ways that made his pulse hitch, the sweetheart neckline daring him to look too long. Flare jeans accentuated her curves, her slingback heels clicking softly on the floor.

Soap froze, his cue stick forgotten. She looked expensive. The gold earrings glinted as she turned her head, catching the light like they had something to say, and that bracelet—that bracelet—he’d seen it before on women who liked their champagne vintage and their shoes handmade. Even her hair, styled but not fussy, screamed class. She didn’t just walk into the room; she owned it, every measured step deliberate, every soft click of her heels loud enough to turn heads.

“Christ,” Soap muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Roach, quick to notice, smirked. “What’s the matter, Johnny? You look like you’ve seen a goddess”

Soap flicked him a sharp look. “Shut it.”

But Roach wasn’t one to let it go. “Lost yer nerve, have ye? Go on, Captain. Talk to her.”

Soap’s eyes drifted back to her. The corset top, the jeans, the way she held herself—confident, but not in a way that begged for attention. No, she was the kind who knew she didn’t have to. He tried to peg her. A spoiled rich girl slumming it? Or maybe... Christ, was she an escort? High-class, no doubt, but still... The bracelet gave him pause. Women with money wore those; women who liked to make sure you knew they had money.

Gaz straightened from his lean, his sharp eyes cutting toward the woman. Something flickered across his face—a flash of recognition that vanished almost as quickly as it came. He didn’t speak, but Soap noticed the subtle shift in his demeanour. Gaz wasn’t just watching her; he was clocking her, analysing.

“Forget it,” Gaz said at last, his tone even.

Soap frowned. “Forget what?”

Gaz rolled his shoulders, leaning on his cue stick. “She’s not your type, Johnny. Way outta your league.”

Soap’s brow furrowed. “What d’ye mean by that?”

Gaz shrugged, giving him a knowing smirk. “Look at her. Probably costs more than you’d ever spend on a date.”

Roach barked out a laugh, slapping the table. “He’s right, you know. You’re tight as a drum, Johnny. You’d ask her to split the bill on a pint!”

Soap turned, his glare sharp enough to cut. “Oh, aye? Tight, am I? And who’s the one always payin’ for your rounds, eh?”

Roach’s grin only widened. “Doesn’t mean you’re takin’ her home, mate.”

Gaz chuckled, still leaning on his cue stick. “Don’t get yourself into trouble, Captain.” His tone was light, but there was an edge to it, almost a warning.

Soap huffed, his gaze drawn back to the bar where she now stood, her fingers brushing the counter as she ordered a drink. Trouble, eh? Maybe they were right. She probably was trouble—the kind you couldn’t walk away from. But something about her made it hard to care.

His grip tightened on the cue stick. He tilted his head, gaze fixed on her like he was sizing up an opponent. “Aye, maybe I do like trouble,” he muttered, the corners of his mouth pulling into a grin.

With that, Soap set the cue stick down, adjusted his jacket, and strode toward the bar.

Kyle groaned under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as Soap walked away, clearly on a mission. “Ah, shite,” he muttered, his accent laced with frustration.

Roach, still grinning like a man who’d just lit a fuse, turned to him. “What? He’ll thank me for it later. Might loosen him up, y’know? Johnny’s been too wound up lately. Could do with a lass to set him straight.”

Kyle jabbed a finger in the direction of the bar, where the woman stood, her poised demeanor giving nothing away. He leaned in closer to Roach, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “She’s workin’, mate.”

Roach furrowed his brows, confused. “Workin’? Like, you mean…?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, a sly grin creeping back onto his face. “Well, that’s perfect, then. Johnny gets his fun, spends a bit of that paycheck, and maybe he won’t be so bloody tight. Win-win, aye?”

Kyle slapped a hand to his forehead, exhaling like a man dealing with a hopeless case. “No, you idiot! Not that kind of workin’. She’s an informant. Undercover. Probably collectin’ intel, and if Johnny gets involved, he could blow her cover.”

Roach blinked, processing. “Wait. Hang on a sec.” He glanced back at the woman, squinting as he gave her a proper look. “She does look a bit familiar... Is she a regular here or somethin’?”

Kyle tilted his head toward her, his voice dropping even lower. “No, mate. We’ve worked with her info before. Think about it. The reports on that arms deal a few months back? That was hers. She’s good at what she does, but Johnny swaggerin’ over there like it’s a bloody Tinder date isn’t gonna help.”

Roach’s eyes widened, realization dawning. “Ohhh.” He glanced at Soap, who was now halfway to the bar, his confident stride making it clear he wasn’t about to change course. “Should we, uh… I dunno, drag him back here before he makes a right fool of himself?”

Kyle folded his arms, his expression a mix of resignation and exasperation. “At the right moment,” he said, his tone heavy with experience. His eyes tracked Soap’s progress as the Captain closed in on the woman. “Knowing Johnny, he’ll need to stick his foot in it first.”

----------

Soap reached the bar with his signature swagger, his broad grin in place as he sidled up next to her. “Evenin’, lass. What’s a woman like you doin’ in a place like this? Slummin’ it, are we?”

She glanced at him, then raised an eyebrow with a sly smile. “Slummin’ it? Bold of you to say that. Even bolder to approach me.”

Soap chuckled, clearly unbothered. “I’ve got plenty of boldness to spare, love.”

Soap leaned in, still wearing that cocky grin. “Johnny MacTavish, by the way. And you are...?”

She shot him a look, the smile still playing on her lips. “Name’s not your business,” she said, voice light but teasing. “But you may call me whatever you like.”

Soap couldn’t help but chuckle at her tone. “Oh, I’ll keep that in mind, love.”

He tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes with mock curiosity. “So, what’s a lass like you doin’ in a place like this? Surely this isn’t your usual haunt?”

She arched a brow, meeting his gaze with a challenge in her eyes. “Why can’t I be here? Have a pint like the rest of ‘em?”

Soap smirked, giving her the once-over. “You look a little too posh for this joint. I’m guessin’... rich spoiled brat, or a high-class escort?”

Her smile didn’t fade. Instead, she leaned in, her voice smooth and cutting. “Bold of you to say. Maybe I am, but if I am, either way... you can’t afford me.”

----------

Back at the pool table, Gaz and Roach were barely holding it together. They exchanged amused looks, stifling their laughter, as they whispered among themselves, not wanting Johnny to catch on.

Roach shot a smirk at Gaz. “Bloody hell, Johnny’s got no shame.”

Gaz snickered quietly. “Aye, but she’s givin’ him a run for his money, isn’t she?”

----------

Soap’s grin only grew wider, his voice low and teasing. “Well, if you’re that expensive, love, I reckon I could afford you for a night, but you’ll be getting more than just a view. How about I show you how wild a Highlander can get? I promise you, it’ll be... less polished, but a whole lot more memorable.”

She glanced up at him, and despite the heels, she was still dwarfed by his towering figure. His broad shoulders, the way his muscles moved under his shirt—it was all there, every inch of him commanding attention. And those blue eyes. Electric. Like they could strip her bare with just one look. He wasn’t just good-looking; he was the type of man you wouldn’t say no to if you were brave enough.

Her lips curled into a smile, and she leaned in just enough to make sure he caught her next words. “Bold of you to think I’d be interested in that... But go on, keep talking. I’m listening.”

Soap chuckled, loving the fire in her eyes. “Oh, I’ve got plenty more where that came from, love. Just say the word, and we’ll see if I can’t show you a wild side you’ve never even dreamed of.”

She arched a brow, her smile teasing, but the way her eyes held his made it clear she wasn’t backing down. “You really think you can handle someone like me?”

“Love,” he said with a smirk, his voice thick with the accent of his roots, “I’ve handled far worse. And I don’t back down from a challenge.”

She met his gaze, her own confidence matching his as she spoke again. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that... after you buy me a drink first.”

Soap leaned in, ordering her drink with a wink. “Whatever you like, love. It’s on me.”

The bartender returned shortly with two drinks, placing them on the bar with a polite nod. Soap slid one toward her with a confident grin, his eyes never leaving hers.

She took the glass, her fingers brushing against his. “Cheers,” she said smoothly, her voice almost a purr. Soap raised his glass in response, clinking it lightly with hers before taking a long sip.

----------

Meanwhile, not far from the bar, at the booth where Ghost and Price sat with their wives, the scene was unfolding just as expected.

Mrs. Riley, ever the character, popped a piece of fresh crawdad meat into her mouth, chewing with evident enjoyment as if she were snacking on popcorn. Mrs. Price took a slow, thoughtful sip from her pint, clearly entertained by the situation unfolding before them.

Price, leaning back slightly, gave Ghost a sideways glance. “What do you reckon, Simon? Is Johnny gonna manage to take this lass home, or is he gonna make a right fool of himself?”

Ghost raised an eyebrow, watching the exchange intently. “Aye, he’s got the charm for it, but we all know how Johnny is. He either gets what he wants, or he trips over his own feet trying.”

Price chuckled softly, eyeing Soap with a knowing look. “I’d say he’s got no chance of walking away from this without a few bruises to his ego. But, then again, she’s holding her own pretty well, eh?”

Mrs. Riley looked up from her seafood, her eyes twinkling as she smirked. “You both bettin’ on Johnny? I reckon she’ll either take him for a ride... or leave him in the dust.”

Ghost gave a small nod, glancing at Soap as he chatted up the lady. “Looks like the lady’s a tough one.” He turned to Price. “Should we step in? Drag Johnny back to the table before he makes a fool of himself—or worse, ruins her night?”

Mrs. Price, always one to watch the drama unfold, leaned in a little closer, eyes fixed on Soap and the woman at the bar. “Let ‘em be. It’s too entertaining watchin’ Johnny try and work his so-called 'charm.'”

Price chuckled quietly, raising his pint in a small toast. “Aye, you’re right. If she’s handling him this well, she’s got him wrapped around her finger already.”

----------

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a teasing smile. “And if I am a spoiled rich princess, what would you say then?”

Johnny’s grin spread even wider. He leaned in a little, his voice low and mischievous. “Well, if that’s the case... I’d say I’m the wildest adventure you’ll ever have. The kind you’ll never forget.”

She giggled, shaking her head, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You might just be all talk, though.”

Johnny sighed dramatically, then chuckled, leaning back in his seat with a playful challenge in his tone. “Ah, well then, lass... you could always come with me and find out for yourself.”

She leaned in closer, her lips almost brushing his ear. “And what if you disappoint me?” she asked, voice dripping with playful skepticism. “What do I get? I’m not doing the walk of shame in the morning, am I?”

Johnny gave a theatrical sigh, his grin never fading. “Well, if I disappoint you, I’ll make it up to you with breakfast in bed. But either way—disappointed or not—I’ll pamper you in the morning, love. You’ll be spoiled.”

She smiled, the thought of a leisurely morning in bed tempting her. Truth be told, it had been a while since she'd gotten laid, and this handsome MacTavish stranger seemed like just the thing she needed. A little adventure, some fun, and maybe a good night to get her back into the swing of things.

Single? Definitely. Needed to mingle? Absolutely. And well, if she was going to enjoy herself tonight, why not with a bloke who could keep up with her banter? A laugh, a good time, and possibly more? She could certainly get on board with that.

“I like the sound of that,” she said, her smile growing as she slid her fingers around her drink. “Might just take you up on that offer...”

She raised an eyebrow, a sly grin playing on her lips. “What if you’re a serial killer, though? I mean, with that mohawk and your good looks, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Johnny chuckled, his usual confidence not faltering. “Serial killer, huh? Well, I promise you, love, I’m no murderer.”

But she didn’t let up. “I don’t know... that mohawk's a bit suspicious. Still, I gotta admit, it suits you. You’re still handsome despite it.”

Johnny blinked in surprise, then a sheepish grin tugged at the corners of his lips. Did she just—? No one had ever dared to compliment him like that before, especially after the whole “wild man” routine.

"Well... thanks," he muttered, a little flustered now.

She grinned wickedly. “You're welcome, handsome. But seriously, how can I be sure you're not one bad night away from chopping me up and turning me into stew?”

Johnny let out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as if trying to shake off the awkwardness. “Alright, alright, what can I do to prove I’m not some serial killer, then? You wanna see my ID or something?”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully for a moment, before smirking. “Yeah, actually, that sounds good. Hand it over.”

Johnny dug into his pocket, pulling out his driver’s license. He handed it to her, and in a quick motion, she snatched it from his hand, raised her phone, and snapped a photo.

Johnny’s brows furrowed. “What are you doing?”

She smirked, showing him the screen. “Sending this to a trusted friend. You know, in case something happens to me tonight. They’ll know exactly who to look for.”

Johnny’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s... smart,” he said, nodding appreciatively.

She then snapped another photo, this time of him, and he raised an eyebrow. “What’s that for? Sending it too?”

She shook her head with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Nah, not sending this one. I’m keeping it for myself.”

Johnny blinked, his heart skipping a beat as he realized she was serious. “For yourself, eh?”

She winked at him, the playful spark in her gaze undeniable. “Oh, yeah. It’s not every day I get to keep a picture of a handsome guy like you.”

Now, Johnny was definitely blushing. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, but the warmth creeping into his cheeks betrayed him. “Well, I suppose that’s fair enough.”

She took a sip of her drink, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Seems like you’re finally caught off guard, MacTavish.”

He let out a chuckle, shrugging. “You’re not making it easy, love.”

After a brief pause, they both finished off their pints, the air between them charged with flirtation. She set her empty glass down first, a playful glint in her eyes. “Well, looks like we’ve both had our fun for tonight.”

Johnny followed suit, his own glass hitting the counter with a soft clink. “Aye, reckon so. What do you say, we call it a night? I’ve had enough of this place... might be time for something... less crowded.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smile. “Sounds like a plan, MacTavish. Lead the way.”

They both stood, an unspoken agreement between them. Johnny offered her a confident smile as they headed toward the door, ready to take the night wherever it would lead.

As Johnny and the woman stood up to leave, Gaz and Roach exchanged glances. They made half-hearted moves as if they were about to stand up and stop him—an awkward, wordless attempt to intervene. But as Johnny turned around and caught their gaze, his usual cocky grin faltered just a fraction.

His eyes narrowed, and he shot them a look that could melt stone. The boys, momentarily caught off guard by the intensity of his glare, quickly backed down. They sat back down in their booth, giving him a silent, almost apologetic shrug, their faces filled with that familiar "we tried" expression.

Price and Ghost shared a similar moment of hesitation, both standing up as if to offer some sort of assistance, but seeing the look on Johnny’s face made them rethink. They sat back down, shaking their heads with a knowing chuckle.

Without another word, Johnny placed his hand possessively around her small, curvy waist, guiding her out the door. She glanced up at him with a smirk, enjoying the rush of walking out with him, feeling his confidence radiate off him like an aura.

They stepped into the cool night air, the warmth of the pub already fading as they made their way down the street. Johnny’s hand never left her waist, his grip firm, and she couldn’t help but feel a thrill from how he held her close.

Gaz glanced at Roach, his expression a mix of concern and disbelief. “I’m kinda worried for Johnny…”

Roach snorted, rolling his eyes. “Aye, worried he might actually get lucky tonight?”

Gaz shrugged. “More like worried he’ll be too embarrassed to show his face tomorrow.”

Roach chuckled, shaking his head. “Either way, it’s gonna be bloody entertaining.”

----------

SMUT here....

They decide to go to Johnny's flat instead, entering the front door laughing and kissing. The kissing turns passionate, clothes start flying off in every direction, and before she knows it, she's swung over his broad shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Johnny, put me down!" she laughs, playfully smacking his back as he carries her to his room.

"Not a chance, love," he grins, giving her a light smack on the bum. "You're mine now."

As they tumble onto the bed, she can't help but appreciate the view. Johnny MacTavish might be a cocky bastard, but he's got the body to back it up. And as for his... equipment... well, let's just say she's impressed.

"Bloody hell, Johnny," she murmurs, her eyes widening as she gets a glimpse of what's to come. "That's... that's not going to fit."

Johnny chuckles, a wicked glint in his eye. "Don't worry, love. I’ll try to be gentle.”

And true to his word, he doesn't rush things. He takes his time, worshipping every inch of her body. He's surprisingly patient, which she wouldn't have guessed from his usual demeanour. He starts by kissing her deeply, his hands exploring her curves with a gentle but firm touch.

He moves down to her neck, planting soft kisses that make her shiver. His hands find her large, soft breasts, squeezing and caressing them until she's gasping with pleasure. He takes his time, sucking and nipping at her nipples, making her arch her back in response.

"Johnny..." she moans, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Aye, love?" he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

He continues his descent, his lips trailing down her stomach, his fingers expertly rubbing her clitoris. She gasps and writhes beneath him, the sensation almost too much to bear. He takes his time, building her up, his touch both fierce and gentle.

When he finally reaches her most sensitive spot, he doesn't hesitate. He dives in, his tongue licking and teasing her until she's on the brink of ecstasy. He sucks and nips, his fingers working in tandem with his mouth, driving her wild with pleasure.

"Johnny... you're... you're actually quite good at this," she admits, a laugh escaping her lips.

Johnny grins, looking up at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, I do aim to please, Birdie."

He intensifies his efforts, his tongue flicking faster, his fingers moving in rhythm. She can't take it anymore. Her body convulses, her hips bucking against his mouth as she cums hard, a wave of pleasure crashing over her. She tries to push him away, the sensation too intense, but he holds her firmly, riding out her orgasm with her.

Her body arches, her breath coming in heavy pants. She shakes and squeaks, the sounds escaping her lips a mix of pleasure and desperation. Johnny finds it hot and cute, his grip on her tightening as he continues to lick and suck, drawing out every last tremor of her climax.

"Johnny... oh gosh, Johnny..." she gasps, her body finally relaxing as the waves of pleasure subside.

Johnny looks up at her, a satisfied smirk on his face. "That's just the beginning, Bonnie," he says, his voice husky with desire.

The room fills with the sounds of their passion—laughter, moans, and the occasional playful smack. Johnny might be a "wild Highlander"(what he claimed), but he's also surprisingly tender, his touch both fierce and gentle.

"Johnny, please..." she whispers, her voice desperate.

He grins, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Alright, Bonnie. Let's give it another go."

He moves down her body again, his tongue and lips tracing a path of fire. He licks and sucks at her clitoris, his fingers teasing her entrance until she's soaking wet and begging for more.

She looks at him, her eyes filled with desire. "Johnny, let me please you too," she says, her voice husky. "I want to reward you."

Johnny's eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn't hesitate. He flips them over, positioning himself so that they're in a sixty-nine, his mouth hovering over her pussy, her lips inches from his cock.

He dives back in, his tongue licking and sucking at her clitoris, his fingers working their magic. She takes him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around his length, her hands gripping his shaft. They move in sync, each trying to outdo the other, their moans and gasps filling the room.

What shocks him is how she takes his full length, deep throating him despite the struggle. She's so into him, her enthusiasm driving him wild. He doesn't want to disappoint, so he gives as good as he gets, his tongue and fingers working feverishly to bring her to the brink again.

The competition is unspoken but intense. They're both determined to make the other cum first, their bodies writhing and bucking against each other. The room is filled with the sounds of their pleasure, their moans and gasps echoing off the walls.

Johnny can feel his own orgasm building, his body tensing as she sucks and tugs at him. He redoubles his efforts, his tongue flicking faster, his fingers moving in rhythm with her mouth.

She's close too, her body trembling, her moans growing more desperate. They're both on the edge, their bodies coiling tighter and tighter.

With a final, intense suck, she sends him over the edge. He cums hard, his body convulsing as she swallows every last drop. At the same time, he sends her crashing over the edge, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm.

They collapse together, breathless and satisfied, their bodies still entwined. Johnny looks up at her, a grin spreading across his face.

"Well, Bonnie," he says, his voice husky. "That was... incredible."

She smiles back at him, her eyes shining with satisfaction. "You're not so bad yourself, Johnny."

He pulls her close, his arms wrapping around her. "And I promise, Birdie, that was just the beginning."

----------

Seeing that she was already prepped and soaking wet, Soap kisses her passionately, pinning her down on the bed. He leans back, admiring his handiwork. She's sweaty, her skin glistening beautifully, her petite but voluptuous frame a sight to behold. Her beautiful face, framed by messy hair, makes her look even sexier. He couldn't help but want her more.

Slowly, he enters her, and she gasps, sighing at how large he is and how tight it feels. Soap holds her waist, his thumb reaching across her swollen clit, rubbing it gently as he moves deeper inside her.

"Oh gosh, Johnny..." she moans, her fingers digging into his shoulders. The sensation of him filling her is almost too much to bear, but she wants more. She wraps her legs around him, pulling him deeper.

Johnny groans, his eyes locked on hers as he begins to move. He starts slowly, giving her time to adjust, his thumb circling her clit in rhythm with his movements. Her moans grow louder, her body arching to meet his every thrust.

"You feel so good, Bonnie," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

She can feel the tension building again, her body coiling tighter with each thrust. Johnny's movements become more urgent, his hips driving into her with a fierce intensity. He leans down, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue mirroring the movements of his body.

The room fills with the sounds of their passion—moans, gasps, and the occasional playful smack. Johnny's relentless, his body moving in perfect harmony with hers. She can feel every inch of him, every powerful thrust driving her closer to the edge.

"Johnny... I'm close..." she gasps, her voice breathless.

He increases his pace, his thrusts becoming more powerful. "Come for me, Birdie," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "Let me feel you."

With a final, deep thrust, she shatters, her body convulsing with pleasure. He follows soon after, his own release washing over him. They collapse together, breathless and satisfied, their bodies still entwined.

Johnny looks down at her, a satisfied smirk on his face. "That was... incredible," he says, his voice husky with desire.

She smiles back at him, her eyes shining with satisfaction. "You're not so bad yourself, Johnny."

He pulls her close, his arms wrapping around her. "And I promise, Bonnie, that was just the beginning."

----------

Johnny wasn't done yet. He guided her through a night of endless pleasure, each position driving her to new heights of ecstasy. She came hard, shaking and even squirting, which he found incredibly hot. By the end, they were both overstimulated, but it was worth every moment.

First, he positioned her on all fours, her head buried in the pillow. He mounted her from behind, his body pressing down on hers, just the way she liked it. He rubbed against her, his nose nuzzling her neck, inhaling her scent. He grabbed her chin, turning her face to kiss her deeply as he moved in and out of her. The sensation was intense, her moans muffled by the pillow.

Next, he lay behind her, his pelvis moving in a fast, pistoning motion. His hard length drove in and out of her, his fingers expertly rubbing her clitoris. She could only gasp and whine, her body trembling as his strong arms held her waist. Soon, her legs began to shake, her toes curling as she came hard, squirting. Johnny continued to rub her clit and piston into her, drawing out every last tremor of her orgasm.

They moved to the floor, the chair, against the wall—each position more intense than the last. She came hard every time, her body convulsing with pleasure. When it was finally time for him to cum, she begged for them to do it together. She asked him to cum inside her, assuring him she was on contraceptives. Johnny liked the idea, feeling her so deeply.

And so they did. They came together, gasping, shaking, and panting. Her body writhed beneath him, and he let out a primal growl, shuddering and releasing inside her. They collapsed onto the bed, breathless, her smiling weakly, and him smiling back at her, cupping her face.

"Bonnie," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You're incredible."

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with contentment. "You're not so bad yourself, Johnny."

They lay there, entwined, their bodies still tingling with the aftermath of their passionate night. Johnny pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her, feeling a connection he hadn't expected.

"That was... something else," she whispered, her voice soft.

Johnny chuckled, his chest rumbling against her. "Aye, it was. And Bonnie, there's more where that came from."

She smiled, her eyes fluttering closed as she drifted off to sleep, safe and content in his arms. Johnny held her tightly, a sense of peace washing over him.

----------

Johnny woke up the next morning, his eyes fluttering open to catch his Birdie trying to slip out from under his large arms. He playfully tightened his grip, pulling her back to him with a low chuckle.

"Where do you think you're going, Bonnie?" he murmured, his voice still husky from sleep.

She giggled, turning to face him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Nowhere, it seems."

They shared a passionate kiss, their bodies already responding to each other's touch. Johnny couldn't get enough of her. He rolled her onto her back, his hands exploring her curves as he moved inside her once again. Their lovemaking was slow and intense, each touch and kiss building the tension between them.

After another round in bed, Johnny scooped her up and carried her to the shower. The hot water cascaded over their bodies as he pressed her against the tiles, his hands roaming over her slick skin. He lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he entered her again. The steam filled the room, their moans echoing off the walls as they lost themselves in each other.

Johnny couldn't believe how much this girl was driving him crazy. She was sexy, beautiful, cute, petite, and voluptuous—everything he could want. They eventually stepped out of the shower, their bodies still tingling with pleasure. Johnny dried her off gently, his touch lingering on her skin.

They slowly got dressed, Johnny unable to keep his hands off her. He found himself forgetting that they weren't a couple, his actions more intimate than he'd ever been with a one-night stand. He carried her back to the bed, asking her to wait while he made breakfast.

Humming quietly to himself, Johnny headed to the kitchen. He cooked with a sense of contentment, the scent of bacon and eggs filling the air. When he returned upstairs with a tray of food, he found the bedroom empty, the window leading to the outdoor fire escape wide open.

He stood there for a moment, his brows furrowing in confusion. For a moment, he thought everything had been a hallucination. Had the head injury from Makarov's shot, years ago, affected him more than he thought? He had survived it and gone through therapy, and meds, but this felt too real to be a hallucination.

His eyes fell on the bracelet she had left behind, a tangible reminder that she had been there. Johnny picked up the bracelet, a mix of relief and determination washing over him. He felt a possessive urge, slightly offended that she had run away after such an incredible night. He swore he'd find his Birdie, but then he remembered—he had forgotten to ask her name or any information about her.

Well, he'd find a way. Johnny was never one to back down from a challenge, and this was no exception. He'd find her, no matter what it took.

A/N:

Oh no, Y/N, looks like Johnny’s offended you ran off after everything that went down. But don't worry—he’s not the type to let things slide. He swears to find you, and he’s not going to rest until he does. So, you might have left in a hurry, but Johnny's on your trail now, and he’s determined to get answers… and maybe a little more. 😏

What will happen when he catches up with you? Well, let’s just say, the chase is about to get real interesting. Stick around to see how Johnny handles getting his Birdie back.

Edit: On to the next chapter!! -------->

[hqbaby]

two — still winning

fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader

you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.7k content. fwb, swearing

He doesn’t care. Why would he? He’s not your boyfriend or anything. You’re just two close friends who happen to fuck sometimes. You’re a grown woman. You’re allowed to go on dates with guys… who aren’t him.

“What is wrong with yer face,” Aran says. He reaches out to touch the corners of Suna’s lips. “Smile!”

The boy just scowls at him. “What are you doing?” he says, yanking his friend’s hands away from his face. “Don’t touch me.”

Aran bursts into laughter. “Yer so serious!”

“What’s goin’ on with ya?” Osamu prods, launching himself onto the couch between the other two boys. He pokes a finger to Suna’s cheek. “Ya break up with yer girlfriend or somethin’?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“If she’s not yer girlfriend, then why don’t ya tell us her name? Doesn’t matter if we know now, does it?”

Suna sinks deeper into the cushions and groans. “Will you guys just be quiet for once?”

“Such a grump.” Osamu sighs, slumping against the couch’s arm. “Anyway, what’re we doin’ over the break?”

“Kita and I are headin’ home before trainin’ starts,” Aran says. “I miss my bed.”

The gray-haired twin hums. “I’d go home too but I got that internship comin’ up.”

A pillow lands on his face.

“Quit braggin’ ‘bout yer internship.”

“I’m not!”

As the two of them bicker, Suna takes his phone out of his pocket. He pulls up your chat and reads your last message to him.

y/n the love of my life: nah i have a date

His eyes linger on your contact name. You set it up, obviously. The two of you (read: just you) were baking a cake in his kitchen (and failing miserably because his only contribution to the effort was distracting you with memes). You had asked him to send you a video he found of a bird freaking out when its owner “disappeared” behind a blanket because you wanted to show it to Oikawa and tell him that’s what he sounded like when Iwaizumi left him alone.

“Y/N L/N?” you gasped, reading the name he had you saved as. “Is that all I am to you?”

He burst out laughing when he saw how offended you looked. “Are you seriously upset?”

“Duh!” you said. “You’ve literally been inside me. And I’m just ‘Y/N L/N’ to you?”

“That’s your name isn’t it?”

You glared at him. “I’m not letting you have any of the cake.”

“Good. I’m pretty sure I’d get food poisoning anyway.”

“Rin!”

He laughed again, holding his phone out for you to take. “Fine,” he said. “Change it to whatever you want.”

A devilish smile appeared on your face as you took the phone away and started typing. He tried to see what you were doing, but you just pulled the screen closer to you so he couldn’t look. “It’s a surprise,” you told him. “Can’t ruin it.”

“You type really slow.”

“Your dick is microscopic.”

“Hey!”

With one last look at your handiwork, you gave him back the phone. “There,” you said. “Now, it’s accurate.”

He glanced at his screen and smirked. “Gee, you got a big ego.”

“Yeah. Bigger than your dick.”

“Stop talking about my dick!”

He tries rationalizing your “date” in his head. It’s not like you’ve mentioned liking anyone, he doubts it’s anything serious. He figures that you just decided to make plans because he was supposed to have plans. That’s probably all there is to it. You’ve done this before. It’s not any different from the other times. It’s not like he cares anyway, he has no reason to.

“Where’s Atsumu?” Aran asks, pushing Osamu’s feet away as the boy tries to stick them in his face. “Thought he’d be here after his test.”

“He came home earlier to get dressed, said he was goin’ out tonight,” Osamu says, trying to get his feet in Suna’s face this time. “Dunno where he thinks he’s goin’ without us.”

“Probably has a girl.”

“Doubt it.”

“Ya never know. Some girls like an airhead.” Aran pretends to swoon, forcing himself on top of Osamu. “‘Oh, ‘Tsumu! Yer so dreamy! Have my babies!’”

The twin’s hand lands in his face, pushing him away. “Gross,” he says. “Well, if Suna can get a girlfriend, I guess ‘Tsumu can too.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Boyfriend then.”

Osamu is rewarded with a firm kick to the groin.

“I’m tellin’ ya! It tastes great!” Atsumu insists. “Ya just haven’t tried it yet.”

Your face is a mix of both disbelief and amusement. “Uh-uh,” you say slowly, laughter threatening to spill from your lips. “I guess I’ll have to find out the next time I crave cereal with orange juice.”

“I’m serious! Don’t knock it ‘til ya try it!”

You laugh. “But why would I want to try it?”

He shakes his head and makes a faux serious face. “It’s in the pulp,” he explains, gesturing wildly as he tries to convince you that no, this is not a crazy person thing he’s saying right now. “Ya mix it in with the fiber and it just makes the flavor pop, y’know?”

The two of you burst into laughter.

The date’s been going well so far. You’d be lying if you said Atsumu’s the perfect gentleman because he isn’t. He talks while he eats and bulldozes through his meal without an effort to look proper in any way. He didn’t bring you to any of the nicer places on campus where the guys usually take girls that they want to impress, but the restaurant has its own charm. It’s cozy and warm and Atsumu talks to the owner of the place like she’s his own grandmother. He’s clearly a regular. And the food’s great too.

He’s fun to be around, you think. He’s, well, a regular boy with the usual quirks, but there’s a sweetness to him. Like you know he means well. What you see is what you get, and you don’t mind what you see at all.

“You’re on the volleyball team, right?” you ask when the conversation lulls as the two of you eat.

“Yup,” he tells you eagerly. “I plan on going to the Olympics.”

“Wow. That’s big.”

“It is. But it’s also what I’ve always wanted to do.”

You nod in understanding. “I have friends on the team. Your schedules get crazy sometimes, don’t they?”

“Yeah, they do, but we love it,” he says with a smile. “Who’re yer friends? I probably know ‘em.”

“Oikawa and Suna—I mean, I’m not really friends with Suna,” you correct yourself. “We’ve spoken a few times.”

“No kiddin’!” he exclaims. “They’re both great—just don’t tell ‘em I said that. Suna’s actually one of my best friends, went to highschool together and everythin’.”

Your eyes widen. “Seriously? What a coincidence.”

He chuckles. “Can’t believe we haven’t met before.”

You nod and smile, but you can believe it. You and Suna live in separate worlds most of the time. The only way you’re technically supposed to “know” each other is through Oikawa and you barely get involved with that part of your friend’s life anyway. It makes you wonder, though. What kind of person is Suna with his friends? Is he any different from the Suna that you know? Maybe you wouldn’t even recognize him.

The rest of the dinner goes on without a hitch and Atsumu drives you back to the dorms after.

“I had fun,” you tell him, digging into your purse for your key. “You shouldn’t have paid though. I’m the one who owes you.”

He waves it off. “Ya can always pay next time.”

The corners of your lips curl upward at the bold remark. “Next time?”

“Well, if that’s… y’know, somethin' ya wanna do,” he says sheepishly. “Would ya? Wanna do this again, I mean. Soon maybe.”

He looks at you like a little boy with hopeful eyes, an image that doesn't entirely match his rather large physique. It’s endearing. It’s sweet. And you decide that you might actually grow to like this boyish side of him a little.

“I have practice tomorrow,” you tell him. “And we have a team dinner after.”

His face falls slightly, trying to hide his disappointment. “Oh, sure. No, I get it.”

“How does coffee sound to you then?”

He lights up at that, face bursting with joy. “Sounds great,” he says. “Meet ya at the quad?”

You nod. “I’ll text you when I’m free.”

“Cool,” he says, still beaming. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” you say, reaching up to plant a kiss on his jaw. “Night, ‘Tsumu.”

“Night, Y/N.”

You unlock your door and step inside, waving at him one last time before closing the door behind you. You lean against the wall, a kaleidoscope of tiny butterflies already gathering in your stomach as you sink to the floor. It’s a new feeling. Interesting, but nice.

Buzz. Buzz.

You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone to find a text from Suna.

rin: how was the date?

you: pretty good actually

you: i’m seeing him again tmrw

rin: nice

Suna feels the urge to chuck his phone across the room. “Nice.” That was his great response. He groans, feeling like a bumbling fourteen-year-old again. He didn’t like being fourteen at all. -3/10, not an experience he’d ever recommend.

He looks down and reads your message again. You’re seeing the guy tomorrow. That’s soon. You just had your first date and you’re seeing him again. It must’ve been something special, Suna thinks, and it makes him feel sick.

His phone pings. Another text from you.

y/n the love of my life: can i come over?

He stares at your words for a while. For a moment, he’s convinced that his mind is playing tricks on him, that he’s just seeing what he wants to see. Then, he smirks, knowing that of course it’s real.

Somehow, he’s decided that, though the guy might be special, it means something that you’re going to end up in Suna’s bed anyway. He doesn’t know exactly what it means, but it means something. It means: Mystery Guy 0, Suna 1. He still comes first, he wins this time. And that’s all that matters.

It makes him feel better than it probably should, but he tries not to think about that. Not now at least.

notes. i'm gonna let u know rn that all the characters in this series are dumb college kids w big feelings and no idea what to do w any them. today is suna's day to be oblivious to his emotions but everyone's gonna get their turn eventually 😩 (also the spice starts next chapter hihihi)

[wh0relibrarian]

sunshine

a/n: a continuation of this post, although altered to be a summer break instead of winter. completely got lost in that 😭 please excuse any informalities, i’m still getting used to writing in second person (or smut for that matter), and tumblrs post format! so don’t be mean ;(

context (if you don't want to read the previous post): Reader is visiting her hometown for the summer. A rising grad student who just so happens to bump into Sukuna at the airport. After quick introductions, he gives her his number in case she gets too lonely...

content ahead: southern sukuna au, black coded!reader, afab!reader, d referred to as dick bc i don’t like using “cock”, v referred to as cunt or pussy, age gap (reader in her early 20s, sukuna is in his early 30s), cowgirl, daddy kink, rough!sukuna (but he’s still a softie), needy!reader, clit stimulation, nicknames such as sweetheart, princess, baby/babydoll, creampie, ass/face slaps, lots of praise, a decent amount of plot

word count: 3.9k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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You’ve been texting Sukuna for a week now. Off and on, trying not to seem too interested, but interested enough to keep his attention. It sucked that he was a man very obviously out of touch with technology, because you can’t find pictures of him anywhere. Not even a Facebook page. You’ve just been grasping at straws, trying to remember each detail of his face. Each tattoo. You didn’t even get enough time to admire the one’s on his face, way too engulfed in his general appearance.

And oh, Sukuna. That poor man. He knew from the moment he saw you that you’d keep him up at night. From the curvature of your lips— only being the opening act to the beautiful smile you had hidden beneath. He tries to remember what color your shirt was, but can only remember how plump your tits looked. Practically spilling out of a… tank top? Or maybe it was a crop top. You had a jacket on, which he knows was gray because you kept trying to wrap it around your waist like you were embarrassed by your body. He couldn’t figure out why, though. You’re beautiful from head to toe, every part of you.

But today, today was the day you’d ask him to take you out. Or just ask to go out in general. Hell, you’d take anything at this point.

You: Hiii Sukuna. How’s your wrist feeling? I know a couple days ago you said it was progressively getting worse, any updates?

Sukuna: Hey babydoll. I think it’s all good now. Nothin a lil icyhot can’t fix. How are you?

You: I’m happy to hear that :) and I’m okay, just bored, per usual.

Sukuna: Ya know I’m always around.

You: It’s funny you mention that… I was wondering if you were busy later today? Or tonight. Either or, whatever works best for you. If you would even want to do anything of course.

Sukuna: City girl finally ready to get some sunshine?

You: Don’t make fun of me 😑

Sukuna: Oh I’d never do such a thing. Are you free right now? My lunch break’s comin up, could use the company.

You: Yes I am! I can be ready in 15, I’ll send my address.

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You weren’t as nervous as you thought you’d be. You know you looked good, you felt good. You put on a casual outfit, just a pair of bell bottoms and some old t-shirt your mom left around. This wasn’t a date, and you didn’t want to scare him, so you treated it like a normal hang out with a friend.

He picked you up in an old pickup truck, run down from the years spent riding on dirt roads and an occasional swamp. (Things can get messy the further south you go.) It was normal where you’re from to have at least one beat up truck per household, so his car was not a problem. You were all smiles, nearly skipping your way to the passenger side. Sukuna rolled down the window and he too had a bright toothy smile plastered on his face. It almost looked malicious, but you overlooked it once you got in. Something about his presence had you in a trance, you couldn’t focus on anything else but him.

When you opened the door, he stretched his arm out to help you into the chair. You made it a point to act as if you were struggling to get in and shut the door, nerves suddenly keeping you from wanting to look him straight in the eye. “Damn sweetheart… just look at you,” he said while leaning his body back, taking a moment to take in your appearance. “Hiii Sukuna, you aren’t too bad yourself,” you said giggling.

“We’re just goin’ up to Milo’s, hope that’s luxury enough for ya.”

“You think I came dressed like this for somethin’ luxury?”

“Well if that ain’t luxury, I’d be curious to see what is.”

Smirking, Sukuna went back to putting his full focus on the road. The butterflies in your stomach had died down, finding his presence incredibly inviting and safe. You were looking out the window for a while, until his hand found yours which was resting on your thigh. You turn around to him surprised, only to see his eyes still trained on the road in front of him. His hand clasped yours and gripped it tight, and you found the silence warm, like a gentle hug you wanted to last forever.

The lunch date was sweet. You both ordered cheeseburgers, fries, and a large sweet tea; reveling in its taste since it had been some time since you had genuine sweet tea. He started asking you about your schooling, learning that you’re majoring in business and will soon start working on your master’s degree. This charmed him— you were both alike even if it was in different ways. You’ve always provided for your mother, and so has he. You won’t stop reaching new opportunities, and neither will he. As the date went on his attraction only grew deeper. Your physical appearance did not mean much to him, you were to die for, but right now he wanted to know every single thing about you and didn’t care about anything else.

But… this wasn’t to say he’s not a curious man.

When ordering the food, you took a step back to look at the entire menu. This caused your skin tight shirt to rise up ever so slightly, showing off your cute tummy and belly button piercing. You noticed him staring, and he was never one to lie.

“Sukuna, order some damn food and stop looking at me like that,” you slapped his large bicep jokingly, making that same smirk from earlier slowly grow on his face.

“Mmm, you hidin’ that accent from me girl. Soundin’ so pretty bossin’ me around.”

You could tell the cashier felt a bit awkward at this point, so you pushed Sukuna in front of you to get him to focus.

Even though he would have moments like those, you didn’t feel like he was objectifying you. It never became the focal point of your conversations. It seemed like he was genuinely interested in getting to know you and it made you feel so… different. Sure you were young, but you’d never experienced such a natural yet interesting conversation with a man. You were shocked by it, to say the least, and it only made you want him more.

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After that day, you two were basically inseparable. He made it a point to try and see you after work, and if there was a day where he couldn’t do it, he’d make it up to you x2 the next day. He immediately started spoiling you, whether it was food or sending you money for new makeup, it’s like he couldn't do enough for you. You were always beyond grateful, and would even tell him to tone it down a bit, but he’d always say, “Princesses deserve princess things.”

It’d been around four weeks of this, the dates would get more romantic, and his time with you only more cherished. Although the flirting continued to grow, he never made a move on you. You definitely didn’t want to be the one to initiate anything. Maybe there was a reason for him not wanting to get physical, but not even a kiss? It was killing you at this point, every night you spent just dreaming of what his pretty lips felt like on yours. Not being able to help your hands traveling down to your aching pussy. You were so horny it hurt, and nothing you did could satiate the feeling; knowing good and well that his fingers— let alone his dick could reach spots you didn’t even know were there. Your own fingers would suffice for now, but you would be leaving in just a few weeks, you needed to know what Ryomen Sukuna was like in bed.

So, the next time he picks you up, you make sure to look drop dead gorgeous (not like he didn’t think that about you regardless.)

A few days ago, he paid for your hair and nail appointments. Large knotless braids with curly pieces coming out of them, and the prettiest french tip set you’d ever got done. You told him you wanted everything to be a surprise, and that you were planning to get a new outfit as well AND that he didn’t have to send you money for that. But you know he did anyway. The plan for this night was a drive-in movie closer to the heart of the city rather than where you both resided. There was a wing place you loved, different shops, and the movie would be the last activity.

After picking up a new sundress, a black one with thin straps and a slit at the bottom, you felt confident enough that tonight would go well. You took a shower when you got home, lathered your skin with shea butter from head to toe, and put on all the gold jewelry you owned.

There’s no way he wouldn’t want to fuck you dumb.

As always, dinner with Sukuna was to die for. He was such a gentleman, making sure to pull your chair out for you, telling you to get whatever you wanted from the menu. “Don’t be scared sweetheart, want you nice ‘n full.”

You shopped for a little while after, well, it was really window shopping. You felt so bad that Sukuna was paying for everything, even though he always insisted. You decided to just point out all of the things you liked, kind of like a test— if he really liked you then he’d remember all these things for a future event.

The drive-in was dead. Which I guess isn’t too surprising, you can’t remember the last time someone talked about seeing a movie here. Nonetheless, this was your dream scenario. With basically no one to catch you guys, it was the perfect breeding ground (literally.) The movie was some rom-com looking thing in black and white which you begged to watch, only because you knew neither of you would want to pay attention. Once he grabbed some popcorn and soda from the concession stand, he pulled up in front of the big projection, claiming he needed to be as close as possible because of his eyesight. After a few minutes of pretending to be interested, you turned to him and finally broke the ice.

“‘Kuna, do you like me?” Sukuna couldn’t believe the question.

“Of course I like you baby, why else would I be here?”

“Well,” you started, “I don’t know…”

“Oh, you know.”

“I know you like me, it’s just like— we aren’t like… you know.”

“Gonna have to use your words sweetheart.”

You looked forward as you tried to find the best way to say this, you decided to just rip the bandaid off.

“We haven’t kissed! Or anything! You just hug me or wrap your arm around my waist, but we haven’t done nothin’ ‘kuna. And I’m not sayin’ that’s any indicator of how much you like me, I’m just sayin’ it’d be ni—”

You anticipated this kiss, not only because you did everything in your power to set it up, but you could feel Sukuna’s eyes latching onto the way your lips moved while talking. His lips were just as soft as you imagined, tasting like cherry carmex and popcorn. His hand found its way to the side of your face, cupping it gently until he moved it to tilt your chin up towards him. Your mouth opened a little from the change in angle, giving Sukuna’s tongue access to the warmth yours had to offer. He melted deeper into the kiss, and so did you, as it continued to get more sloppy and wet. You could tell he was eager, swirling and dancing on the tip of your tongue, sucking it harshly like he was trying to gather as much saliva as possible. Just to pull back and have it leak out of his mouth, dripping down both his and your chin. It was downright nasty the way your fluids were colliding, but it turned you on an unbelievable amount. Whining and groaning into him, rubbing your thighs together, lacking the correct amount of friction from wearing a dress instead of pants.

Your hand started traveling to his chest and lower, and he could tell you were really riled up at this point simply from the way you were tugging on his shirt. He pulled his lips off yours, making you reach out for him still since your eyes were closed. When you opened them, you were able to see the true mess you two caused. Sukuna was drooling, his heavy lidded eyes not daring to move from your frame. His hair was everywhere, and you couldn’t be happier with your hairstyle of choice.

“Fuck baby,” he said while rubbing on the sides of your stomach, “I really need you. I’ve been needin’ you. Yer just so damn sexy, of course I’ve been wantin’ to do stuff. Just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” He leaned in to kiss your cheek and up to the shell of your ear, “Never want you uncomfortable.”

And that sent you over, you cupped his face with both of your hands, kissing him hard. He growled from your sudden dominance, and with a few swift movements, pulled his seat back and slid you over the middle console and into his lap. Your dress hiked up to your thighs once you straddled him, allowing Sukuna to feel just how wet you were. With one hand on your face, and the other on your waist, he slowly made his way down to your cunt.

“So fuckin’ wet for me,” he whispered against your lips, making slow circles on your puffy clit. “This f’me? Say it’s for me babydoll.”

“It’s for you ‘kuna, it’s all for you. Please–” His fingers slid your panties to the side, revealing just how sticky you were for him. Your pussy was basically crying to be touched, and Sukuna was a gentleman, of course.

His mouth never left yours, left hand now resting behind your neck, while his other is furiously rubbing your bare clit. Your moans were being swallowed by Sukuna’s mouth, and when the pleasure finally got to be too much, you suddenly threw your head back with a yelp. Catching yourself immediately, you press your forehead into his.

“‘M sorry, fuck, ‘m sorry— it’s t-too much.”

“Don’t apologize princess, I love seein’ you act like this. So slutty.”

Your tits have barely been able to stay concealed in your already showy dress. They spilled out on their own from your sporadic movements, and once Sukuna could see one, he dropped everything to unveil the other and fondle them both. You kept grinding on his very hard dick, keeping up the rhythm he set up for you while he went to town on your boobs. Massaging them, pinching and flicking the nipples, mumbling things like “fuckin’ shit they’re so soft,” and “need to fuck you.” It wasn’t long before he popped one into his mouth, sucking on it, making it soo much more sensitive. You were squealing at this point, Sukuna looked up at you to see the tears forming at the corner of your eyes. With a ‘pop’ he brought his attention back to your beautiful face. Somehow fucked out just from dry humping. How cute, he thought to himself.

“Look at me, princess.” You struggled, but your eyes met his, still striving for your release. “‘M gonna fuck you, okay? Is that what you want?” You started nodding your head yes like a damn puppy.

“Need to hear you say it princess. Tell me you want it.”

“Wan’ it s-so bad baby, fuck me, I need you to fuck me.”

The thing about pick-up trucks is that there’s not really a backseat, which means you’d have to ride him right where you were. This wouldn’t have been a problem, until Sukuna quickly pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing probably the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. It was the fucking length that scared you. It wasn’t too thick, but girthy enough that it, plus his length, would have your legs shaking for days. He gave his dick slow strokes while you took off your dress, suddenly feeling embarrassed from being the only one naked. He could see you get self conscious by the way you try and hide yourself like the day he met you.

“Whatcha lookin’ at me like that for,” his eyes were still focused on yours while he prepared himself, licking his lips like he was genuinely going to eat you later.

“I can’t look at ya? You just look so damn good sweetheart. Can’t believe yer all mine.”

“You don’t have to gas me up now,” you said looking away.

“Nuh-uh,” he grabbed your cheeks and turned your face back to his, “I’ma always tell you how good you look. Don’t act so shy now baby.”

Your pussy clenched around nothing at his statement, still leaking from the previous foreplay. He pulled your forehead to his lips, kissing it tenderly, and when he let go of your face he asked you one last time if you were ready. You whisper out a shy yes and grab his dick cautiously, lining it up with your entrance as you slowly lower yourself onto it. You let out a sharp grasp as Sukuna rests his hands on the sides of your hips, trying to assist in any way he can. Once you’re close to bottoming out, he starts whispering praises.

“Doin’ so good babydoll.”

“Look at you takin’ me so well.

Every time he spoke your pussy would clench around him, making him hiss and choke back a whine. Once he was all the way inside you, you let out a breathe you didn’t realize you were holding. You raised your head to look at him instead of the way he was stretching you out. There’s that smirk again. One of his hands finds it’s way back to your clit, rubbing slow circles like before to help you relax. You were so tense but you tried to keep a level-headed face, even though it literally felt like you were being split in two.

You felt your walls get used to his size and shape, feeling them contort and mold into Sukuna’s cocksleeve. With that, you start riding him slowly, using his shoulders to stay balanced. You got the hang of it quickly and began picking up pace. He was still stimulating your clit, using his other hand to keep guiding your body up and down. It was clear that you were struggling to take him all in though, pausing every few seconds to catch your breathe or readjust yourself. And this would just not do for Sukuna.

He gripped and slapped your ass hard.

“Gotta do better than that baby.”

Smack

“C’mon sweetheart, put your fucking. back. into. it.”

Each emphasis on a word was coupled with a hard thrust and loud whines coming from the depths of your throat. The sounds you were both making at this point bounced around the truck. There wasn’t a moment of silence and you felt blissful. Lulling your tongue out just for Sukuna to catch between his teeth; moving his hand back to bully your clit, and using his free hand to grab your face and continue fucking his hips up into yours. He was growling obscenities into your ear, “Yeah baby, just like that keep fucking me like that.”

“Sukuna, please! Fuckfuckfuck I can’t,” you were bouncing on his dick beautifully, tits bouncing in unison and he truly believed you were unreal.

“Yes you can baby,” he gave your face light slaps, “keep those eyes open, keep lookin’ at me baby. Doin’ so good, I promise.” You were leaking like a faucet down his dick and balls, and with a certain thrust, you were sure he was hitting your cervix. The string of cries that came out of your mouth made him go faster, harder, knowing that he finally found the spot that makes you weak.

“Am I makin’ you feel good baby?”

“Mhmm, y-yesss, so so good.”

“Yes who?” Your eyes were crossing trying to look at him, confused at what he meant at first, but as his thrusts got rougher you knew exactly what he was getting at.

“Y-yes daddy, it feels so good.” You were slightly embarrassed by the things you were saying, the noises too. You felt so dirty, but in a good way. Searching for your release that was so close.

Sukuna was close too, but he didn’t want that to come before he made you gush all over his dick. When he found his way to your neck, kissing and biting and sucking on your precious skin, you were done.

“Fuck daddy right there!”

“Here sweetheart? You like this?”

“Yesyesyes don’t stop please don’t stop–” and with a cry you were creaming all over Sukuna’s dick. Your pussy clamped down on him so tight, he couldn’t help but look down at the beautiful mess you made all over his thighs. He kept fucking you through your orgasm, causing you to become incredibly overstimulated. Sukuna was getting close, you could tell by his relentless strokes, forgetting any type of consistent pace. His hands were on your hips now, pistoning up into you as your head rested gracefully on his shoulder.

“Mm babydoll gimme a kiss, c’mere.”

When your shaky lips met his, he was sent into overdrive.

“Fuck ‘m gonna cum. Fuck baby, where do you want it.”

Absolutely fucked out, you tried to come up with some sort of cohesive thought. “I-insi..de ‘kuna. In m-me.”

“You sure? Tell me you’re fuckin’ sure, yer milkin’ me baby.”

“I’m s-sure. Please please just cum inside me!”

“Oh, fuckkk…” Sukuna’s load filled your pussy to the brim, leaking out to coat the sides of his dick. He made you feel so full and warm. Finally stopping his thrusts, you hunch over his shoulder and he begins rubbing what feels like hearts on your back, humming into your ear how good you were for him, dick never leaving your pussy.

“Did such a good job princess. So fuckin’ good, are you an angel? Must be an angel, the way you dropped into my life like this.”

“Mmmm I’m your angel ‘kuna. I was made for you only.”

Although the moment was wholesome, your mind immediately flooded with the thought of you leaving in a few weeks.

How were you supposed to leave after this?

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hope you enjoyed ;) and let me know if i missed anything as far as my content ahead section goes!

tags: @aiyaaayei

[romanarose]

About a Girl: Chapter 8

Beautiful header by my beloved @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Joel Miller x Trans!Fem!Reader (Nickname, Blue)

Series Masterlist : The Last of Us Masterlist : Full Masterlist

Summary: For week 5 of my pride event: Struggles. Joel, Sarah, Blue, and

Warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter: 18+ ONLY!! I cannot warn against everything, but these are major themes. Joel is a lil ignorant but not out of hate. He just doesn't know. He's trying his best. There will be smut. Penetrative sex, all of the anal play, oral. There will be transphobia from other people. Addiction and alcoholism. QUICK child neglect not by Joel but I promise, Sarah is fine and is having a great time in life. Fetishization of women attracted to women by a shitty guy. Will update as needed. Again, this is adult content. Expect adult content.

Immersivity: Reader is transgender, AMAB female, reader has had gotten bottom surgery, not top, and is on hormones. reader has visible hair and a blue streak in hair, but not described. Could be braids, could be natural hair, whatever. Header is for aesthetics only. Reader is about Joel and Tommy's height. Let me know if i miss anything!

TRANS LIVES MATTER! TRANS YOUTH MATTER! TRANS ELDERLY MATTER! TRANS WOMEN MATTER! TRANS MEN MATTER! NON BINARY TRANS MATTER!

She was wearing the dress you bought her. They both were. 

Joel watched from the kitchen as Sarah and Ellie had their little tea party in the cute matching dresses you had bought them. Ellie was over for a playdate, a tea party to be exact. For Sarah’s birthday, which Joel spent much of the time wishing you were there and Sarah mentioned multiple times she missed you as well, Tommy had handmade her a table and chair set.

Since Joel kicked him out, things had been… shitty. Joel missed him a lot, even though they still saw each other almost every day at work. It was the off season so hours were reduced, but Bill and Frank never left the four of them hanging, and made sure they had some contacts for extra hours at other farms or under the table work to make up their hours. Tommy had been riding with Tess now, and it seems in his spare time Joel wasn’t privy to had been making the set in Bill's garage. Sarah was ecstatic and first thing was asking if she could have Ellie over for a tea party the next weekend. Joel confirmed with Ellie’s very uninterested foster mom, saying he could pick up and drop off when she didn’t seem enthused about bringing her over two weeks in a row. Ellie was Sarah’s best friend, and since you were gone Sarah seemed down, so Joel was going out of his way to cheer his little girl up. She deserved it. She deserves everything. She deserved to have you in her life, Joel didn’t.

The night Joel came home to Tommy doing heroin was one of the worst nights of his life. He was so scared for her, scared she’d accidentally stuck herself with the needle or wandered off into the street to get hit or kidnapped or worse…if something happened to Sarah, his life would be over. There’d be no point anymore. He put her to bed the second time, comin downstairs to an empty living room but knowing you’d be coming in soon. He was scared, embarrassed that Talia had seen all that, and worried what Sarah saw and heard. Worried how he’d explain Tommy being gone… If he’d just gone to rehab it’d be easier, but he still refused. Instead, he lived with Tess and came over sometimes because of course he did, they were still brothers… it was hard to explain why Tommy didn’t live here anymore. And it was going to be hard to explain why you were gone.

“This isn’t gonna work.”

You blinked at him, mouth agap. “Joel… come on don’t do this.”

“You don’t wanna be with me like this.” Joel shook his head.

“Baby, no…” You try to approach him, raising your arms to hold him but he held out a hand. He was still surprise that you stopped. Kayla never respected his boundaries like that. “You think I care about this? I mean- fuck I mean I care, you know I care about Sarah and Tommy but I mean… I don’t view you differently. It makes me sad Tommy is hurting like this but I don’t view him different… Joel I wanna help-”

He cut you off. “You can’t.” Joel’s face was hardened, his soft eyes looking lost. “This isn’t a good time and… I can’t have distractions.”

Joel’s heart breaks when he see’s your lower lips quiver. “Am I a distraction to you?”

He wanted to say no. He wanted to say you were everything, you completed him, you were apart of his little found family and he loved you so, so much… but he couldn’t. Sarah was left alone for anything to happen because Joel was with you. It wasn’t your fault. It was his.

“Yes.”

Joel was sure Ellie wouldn’t like the dress, but she was wearing it. Maybe she just didn’t get nice things as a foster child. Joel thought that was a shame. Ellie was a good kid, nice if a little rough sometimes but never malicious. Her and Sarah were playinging some game with sticks as Joel sat on the deck drinking coffee with Tommy. He watched as she got a little over zealous and THWACK, a stick across Sarah’s face. It looked worse than it was, and sure probably hurt bad, but nothing but a few cuts on her face. Joel ran down the deck to hold a screaming Sarah, not noticing Ellie disappearing when his back turned. Tommy did.

As Sarah calmed down, Tommy appeared holding Ellie’s hand. Ellie tried to run out the gate but it was locked, she just managed to take get it undone, smart kid she was, when Tommy scooped her up.

As Sarah’s sobs turned into sniffles, Joel turned to see Ellie frozen, eyes wide and body shaking.

“Hey now…” Joel said softly. “It’s alright Ellie, it was an accident. See? She ’salright.” Joel motioned to Sarah who was wiping her eyes.

“Joel.” Tommy mumbles. “I don’t think that’s what she’s worried about…”

Oh. She was scared of him. “You’re okay, Ellie. I ain’t mad, game just got a little wild, that’s all. Right Sarah? You’re okay aren’t you?”

Sarah whipped her tears, standing up. “Yeah I’m okay!” Although her voice still wobbled and her face was still wet. “Daddy can we have a snack?”

“Yeah, of course babygirl. I’ll bring your chairs and table out so you can eat out here, sound good?”

Joel and Tommy’s eyes connected. The pieces were there to conclude what they thought, but the evidence was all circumstantial. 

As Sarah and Ellie ate their snack, he noticed how quickly Ellie ate her food, asking for more. Joel decided to ask her foster mom is she could stay for dinner. He heard them talking as they ate.

“Where did you get these dresses? Did you buy them?” Ellie asked her.

“Uh-uh. Daddy’s girlfriend Blue bought them!”

“Where is she?”

Joel watched as Ellie glanced down at her food. “They broke up.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“I miss her. My mommy is gone too.”

“Did she die?”

“No, she and my daddy broke up too.”

“Your dad breaks up a lot. He shouldn’t be so picky, he’s too old.”

Joel couldn't help smile at that. Ellie didn’t have a filter. It wasn’t that he being picky; it wasn’t about you. You were perfect. Joel pictured himself marrying you, having a life with you. You were perfect. He was wrong. Everything about Joel’s life was chaos and it wasn’t fair to you or Sarah or Tommy to split his attention even more. And now, it seemed, he was taking on a lot of responsibility for Ellie too. It was just too much. 

Joel turned on the TV while he cooked dinner, Ellie and Sarah playing upstairs.

“Grunge pioneer and Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain found dead in his apartment today, thought to be a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”

Joel dropped the spoon into his spagetti sauce. “Shit.” He murmured, trying to fish it out with a spatula. Nirvana was your favorite, you idolized Kurt Cobain. He knew more about the beef between him and Guns “N Roses or Nirvana and Pearl Jam than he ever thought he would; he didn’t even know who Nirvana or Pearl Jam were before you, honestly.  He loved hearing your passion, even if it was all so new to him, an he loved when you showed him new songs, but nothing got your mouth going like Nirvana did; the absolute excited way you talked about their music made your eyes light up and you’d bounce in your seat, joyful and enthusiastic, a love for life Joel admired. 

He loved how someone who’d been through so much could be so… happy. It gave him hope. From life as a depressed, addicted “gay man” couch surfing and sometimes homeless, to a school teacher, happy and loving and stable as a woman. Before you, he only vaguely knew what being trans was. No one really talked about it except occasionally some article or an episode of TV. Joel didn’t think much about it, but he knew what others thought. Many said it was a sin, or unnatural, or that it was body mutilation… Some said things like they would regret it, that it was a mental illness… Joel didn’t know much about mental illness, if he was being honest. He knew it was considered a mental illness by the big book psychiatrists use… but he always knew until the 70’s being gay was considered one too, and Joel didn’t think Tess, Bill and Frank were mentally ill. Well, Bill was a conspiracy theorist and a little cooky at times, but his head was on straight. Joel didn’t really care what anyone said. You were living and looking the way you wanted to  save your life, and Joel was glad you were alive, even if you weren't a part of his world.

After serving up his girls, a heaping serving for Ellie to make up for what she’s not getting at ‘home’, Joel leaned against the counter, spooning the left over right into his mouth. One less dish to clean. He liked Ellie, he thought as he ate, even if she was a bit of a pain in the ass. She was spirited in a way Sarah wasn’t, but a good kid. She also liked baseball, and would watch with him sometimes before Sarah dragged her away.

He heard the doorbell, and Sarah ran up shouting “I’ll get it!!!” and as Joel walked over to the door still chewing a big mouthful of spaghetti, she informed him it was Aunt Tess.

“Hey Tess,” Joel swallowed his food, “Sorry, I can’t have anyone other than Tommy over, Ellie’s over for a playdate.”

Tess didn’t look like herself, sollem and worried face mareing her expressions. “Joel… something happened with Blue…”

His heart dropped. “Is it the Kurt Cobain thing? Is she okay? I know thats probably really upset-” 

She cut him off, hand raised but not rudely. “No, Joel I- jesus… Tommy say anything to you?”

Joel furrowed his brow. What did he do now? “No… he get into trouble again?”

“No… he was pretty out of it the other night but… him and me with with Max. Joel, I swear, he said he dumped Kayla.”

Taking a deep breath, Joel cringed at her name. “Y’all can do whatever you want, it’s none of my business.” But it still hurt, just a little, even if it was irrational. 

Tess scrubbed her face. “Joel, it’s bad, it’s so bad. Tommy got drunk, and he started talk’n, and you know how he gets… well Max was talkn ‘bout Kayla and her beef with Blue and I swear, no one was talk’n bad about her, Tommy was say’n how much he likes her, and I don’t even know how it came out but Tommy mentioned her being trans-”

“Shit- To Max? Tess, you know how he is!” Joel turned into the house, bellowing. “TOMMY!”

“I know! I know, okay but listen…” She shifted her feet. “I guess he wasn’t done with Kayla…” Tess’s face looked wracked with guilt, biting her lip and struggling to get out the story.

It was bad.

*

Joel dropped Ellie off with her foster mom, sending her with some fruit snacks. Not trusting Tommy with Sarah alone yet, Joel left her with Tommy and Tess; Talia answered Blue’s door.

“Joel.” She sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “This isn’t a good time. You know I love yuh, but she don’t need this right now.”

Joel shuffled, placing his hands in his pockets. “I’m- fuck, I’m sorry I just… I wanted to check on ‘er…” 

Talia’s face softens, her body language relaxing. “I know… and I’m sorry. Maybe come by in a few days, I’ll let her know you stopped by, but she said she didn’t wanna see anyone-”

“Talia? Is that Joel?”

Signing at the voice of her best friend, she turned around. “Yeah babe, I told him to come by in a day or two.”

The sound of you sitting up made his heart leap. The idea of seeing you after months was exciting and nerve racking. 

Acquiescing, Talia opened the door to your apartment where Joel saw you. You were still in your PJ’s, hair a mess, your eyes bloodshot and puffy. You were still the prettiest woman he’d ever seen in his life.

“Hey.” Nirvana played in the background. Something in the Way.

“Hey…” You lip quivers, and Joel runs over to you with no hesitation, scooping you into his strong, farm-worked arms and keeping you close to him as you cried. Your body wracks in heaves and sobs, and Joel knew something was very wrong, his heart aching for you, hoping so badly you were going to be okay. He never wanted to stop hugging you. When you’re crying slowed, Joel still held your body. Talia offered to go get some food, trusting Joel to watch you while she was gone and giving you both time to talk. When you finally lifted your head off his soft flannel, Joel guided you to sit on the couch.

“I’ve missed you so much…” You sniffled, not looking at him. “As soon as I heard about Kurt Cobain, I just wanted to call you…”

“You could’ve…” He reassured you. “I know how much he meant to you… I don’t want you to have to go through things alone, Blue…”

You shake your head. “I don’t. I got Talia, I always got Talia… and Tess and Tommy…” 

Joel didn’t know Tommy was hanging out with you. “I know… I just…” He sighs. “I still wanna be there for you, you know? And with what happened…”

You groan, flopping back on the couch dramatically. “I can’t fucking beleive it. Years, i was here for years completely fine! Then this shit happens!”

“I’m sorry-”

“Joel, don’t-”

“But I am! I’m sorry, this is because of me.”

“No, this is because Kayla is a bitch. Sorry Joel, I know you don’t like us talk’n bad about her but she is!”

His voice was soft and gentle. “I think you earned the right to call her that, Blue.”

He hears you huff a sardonic laugh. “So have you.” You scrub your face. “Three years with this school, not so much as a talking to, no bad performance reviews… Not even a parent complaint.” You pop your head up. “Parents will complain about everything! But not me!” Back down. “All down the drain.”

Apparently, Max wasn’t done with Kayla. This didn’t surprise Joel; Kayla wanted Max to get to him, and Max was stupid. Of course he was still cheating with her. Kayla was, obviously, beautiful. That’s just a fact. After finding out Blue was trans, he scampered off to Kayla like a little rat and told her. Kayla, in turn, outted Blue to the entire school.

“Can’t you sue for wrongful termination? I mean, they can’t fire you for being trans.”

“Nope” You popped the P. “But they fired me on grounds of poor work performance which is bullshit. Texas is a will to work state, which means they can basically fire me for anything except being a protected class, so they just make something up. Texs has ass workers rights, I don’t got a leg to stand on.” He watched as your eyes welled up with tears. “Parents who always said their children adored me complained I was a predator and was grooming their children… One called me a satanist, which is wild.”

Joel chuckled a little at that, but only because you had a smile at the corner of your mouth. “I’m sorry this is happening, Blue… you’re a great teacher and they are fucking missing out.”

“I know, thank you. Being good right won’t pay my bills, though.” You’d be moving in with Tess, Talia, and Tommy, making for a full house. Joel wanted to bring Tommy home, he really fucking did… Tess and Talia woud have a full house once Blue was there, Sarah missed him… and fuck, Joel missed him. A lot. But Tommy refused to get help, and although he said he was clean, he’d said it before. He couldn’t risk Sarah’s safety like that. Honestly, he wasn’t sure Tommy even wanted to come back with the way Joel had talked to him sometimes. 

You rested your feet on his blue jeans. “I’m glad you’re here, cowboy.”

Joel just can't stay away.

Two chapters left! One more seeing how things come back together for Joel, Blue, Sarah, Ellie, Tess and Talia

then, the finally where everyone is happy for the finale of pride event!!!!

I went to pride today (before and after being The Bikeriders AGAIN)

Before, I cried a little a free mom hugs

then i cried at The Bikerriders

then!! After bikeriders I went back to check out everything fully with more time and ended up breaking down sobbing at the free mom/dad hugs tent. It was so much a lady from anothr tent hugged me too ;-;

i love my mom but she'd never fully accept me.

Anyway, love y'all!!!! You are loved just the way you are! You are sacred!

How to keep up with the series:

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[frvnkcastles]

DISAPPEARING YEARS ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: When you get a diagnosis you’ve been dreading, Frank is there for you.

Warnings: Unspecified illness, feminine nicknames, hurt/comfort

Word count: 894

Author’s note: A short but sweet one inspired by That Phone Call from your doctor that confirms what you’ve been expecting. I remember what a gut punch it was to be told I have C-PTSD, and then another one when I was told it was causing psychosis in me, but most recently I got a not-so-nice physical health diagnosis that made this lil fic happen. It sucks. But at least we’ve got Frank, right?

Frank’s hand was heavy but steady in yours as you sat on the edge of the bed with your phone raised to your ear. As soon as it had rung with your doctor’s name blinking on the screen, it had been as if the world had slowed down to nothingness, like everything else was on pause except the bad news you were awaiting. And one look was all it had taken for Frank to take your hand and grip it tightly, silently promising that he was there for you no matter what your doctor would have to tell you.

When a tear escaped your eye and trailed down your cheek, Frank was quick to wipe it away with his thumb, right before he pressed a kiss onto your shoulder and left his chin resting there. The way he attached himself to you was borderline clingy, but he needed you to know he wasn’t leaving your side, needed you to remember the good you had — he rarely saw himself in such a flattering light, but right now, he acknowledged he had the power to keep you going and give you strength. So, he made it his mission to invade your senses from gentle kisses to soft touches and quiet whispers to assure you were doing wonderfully.

It was almost funny how quickly the phone call was over, how your doctor had given you world-stopping news and then just wrapped it up like any other call. But indeed, within minutes, you found yourself dropping your phone onto the mattress and then looking over to Frank who stared back at you with expectant but loving eyes.

”It’s… it’s what they suspected. Just… confirmed it for me. It’s an official diagnosis now”, you whispered after licking your dry lips. You took in a deep breath, and with your face twitching as you tried to avoid crying, you looked away from Frank who was allowing you the time to get it all off of your chest. ”I know we saw this coming, but it just feels so—”, you tried, but like a tidal wave, the first sob broke through you and you lifted your hand to your mouth.

”Hey, hey, shh”, Frank reacted instantly, assuming his turn to speak, and with tender hands he weaved you into a tight embrace that squeezed all the ugly cries out of you.

”I just don’t want to deal with this”, you hiccuped, and still shushing you, Frank nodded against your head and massaged firm circles on your back.

”I know, sweet girl, I know. Hell, it ain’t somethin’ anyone wants to hear. But you took it like a champ, y’know that? You’re a fuckin’ badass”, he insisted, his gravelly voice filled to the brim with love and sincerity as he went on, ”I’m amazed by you every time. I mean it.”

You let your eyes fall shut and felt the tears pour down in response. Still, even as they wet the collar of Frank’s shirt, he was unmovable; constant and reliable as he held you tight to his chest. He didn’t falter for one second, didn’t make you doubt his affection for you as he began to softly rock you side to side.

”You’re right, you saw this comin’. Don’t make it any easier, I know. But in some way, you’ve been preparin’ for it, yeah? We looked up things to make it better together, ’member? You got this, baby. You absolutely do. You have what it takes to get through this, and shit, you know I’d do anythin’ for you. So whatever you need, I’m here for ya”, Frank assured, not even an ounce of hesitation in his voice. The words mixed with the warm embrace made the world seem a little less cruel, and with whatever courage you had left, you mustered a nod.

Sniffling, you leaned back just enough to look at Frank, a small smile impossible to resist when you saw his dark eyes fixated on you and his lips curved up in a hopeful way. ”The doctor did say a lot of kisses and cuddles might alleviate the symptoms”, you pointed out matter-of-factly, and the loud laugh you got from Frank made it all seem worth it.

”That right?” Frank grinned before leaning in to kiss your forehead, followed by your nose, cheek, jawline and finally, your lips. It was long and sweet and warm and safe and you wanted to live in it. ”Won’t catch me denyin’ my girl some lovin’”, he promised before kissing you once more, this time in a way that took your breath away with the heated connection between your lips.

Giggling, you dropped your head against his chest and sighed. ”This all seems a lot less sucky when I have you with me”, you admitted, and with a quiet chuckle, Frank dipped his finger under your jaw and tilted your head up so he could give you a knowing look.

”That’s how I feel about every day, sweetheart. You make life worth livin’. And that’s why I’mma make sure you enjoy waking up every day, too”, he promised, his forehead colliding with yours as he breathed you in.

”This may be a bad thing, I know, but we’ll have lots of good ones. I swear”, he added, and with a quiet nod, you gave him a smile.

”I believe you, Frankie.”

[charleslee-valentine]

Flesh and Blood need Flesh and Blood

For the Texas Chainsaw Massacre Disability Pride Month event: Day 6- Underestimated

Word Count: ~3,100

Warnings: Blood and violence. Accidental killing. Period typical ableism & ableist language. Mild panic attacks. Domestic abuse. Religious aspects.

_________

“Take him home. Now, boy.” Drayton Sawyer barks in his middle brother’s face, keeping his yelling hushed to avoid causing a scene.

“Y-Yessir.” Nubbins, for his part, gives a nod and takes off running, only stopping when his clammy hands wrap around the handles of a wheelchair.

Franklin’s wheelchair.

It’ll be a long walk from here, takin’ the road shoulder all the way from the gas station to home, but Drayton’s got a mess to clean and customers to serve that oughta take priority over drivin’ the boys home. Couldn’t be arranged unless it was planned, and nothin’ about today had been goin’ in that sort of direction.

The boys were all together in the station’s yard, running not wheeling or wobbling to the best of their abilities. Using whatever toys they could scrounge together they’d made a game, pitchin’ crushed soda cans, wads of dry gum, a bouncy ball, and so so long as they could smack it around with a bat. Ain’t no objective, though eventually they started trying to catch each other’s swings.

Bubba’s only nine still and learnin’ to upkeep all the things he’d been taught. It’s harder work for him to retain things in his brain, so he stumbles when he walks and struggles to hold a fork at supper, but that’s just Bubba. Mangled little face and all, that’s the Sawyers’ kid brother and he’s goin’ to be included in their play.

Ain’t up to no yuppie scum t’ decide who’s doin’ what and where. Don’t stop them from sharin’ uncalled for opinions.

“That boy out there, you ought lock him up ‘fore someone gets hurt. Teenaged, child, whatever. Don’t matter to them like that. Those are freaks of nature, ‘n whatever they are, they’s goin’ ruin it all the same. Comin’ after the comfortable. You know what I’m sayin’.”

The man wouldn’t stop lecturing Drayton about allowing Bubba to play in the yard with his brother and a friend, like that was the worst option. Like he had any clue of when Mama was perfectly willing to let the state take Bubba for a price, just before her disappearance from the picture. Had a lot of nerve bein’ so ignorant out loud.

Well thing is, Franklin was playing batter, and the man was storming over to lecture here too, and Drayton wasn’t quick enough comin’ ‘round the counter to stop it, and he just reacted. Swing the bat.

Broke the man’s nose on the first swing, saw blood and panicked. Kept swingin’ and jabbing with the bat ‘til his instincts told him the threat was gone and he could stop. Just like swatting a bug.

Except a man’s skull was spilling its contents all over the ground, and nobody even said a word. Nubbins went straight to helping his big brother carry it, Bubba took the bat and ran it inside. The practiced nature of what they were doing, hiding the evidence, didn’t really occur to Franklin just yet. His mind was focused on the trouble he’d face from the law or his parents or even God for this, nevermind if the Sawyers didn’t care.

Now Nubbins is just pushin’ him along like it’s not an issue in the world, and Franklin can’t help but worry out loud, “Oh Lord, why’d I do that?”

“D-Do what?” Nubbins tilts his head and leans down into Franklin’s line of vision, slowing their forward progress from leaning on the wheelchair so heavily.

“You saw me! I killed that man!” Franklin’s voice cracks harshly, his cheeks tinging pink from the embarrassment of that, as if that’s worse than homicide.

But Nubbins straightens out some and casually reminds him, “He was mean.”

Franklin blinks away the surprise of his casual nature and sputters, “Lots of people are mean! But I hit him ‘cross the head with a steel bat! That’s mean too, dontcha think?”

“Nawh.”

“Naw?! Nubbins I'm goin’ to prison. I beat a guy to death and my fam’ly gonna hate me, they ain’t never gonna let me back! Not even God’s gonna want me, it’s gotta be a sin to kill another man. Oh Lord I’m goin’ to Hell Nubbins!”

With Nubbins behind him and nobody around for miles, Franklin won’t deny he started crying.

Nubbins shocks him out of it again with a curious comment, “Wh-What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?” Franklin sniffles, picking at his nails nervously.

His friend downright giggles, “Hell. What’s Hell l-like? I-I never been there.”

Sometimes he forgets the Sawyers aren’t of the faith, seeing it’s so common in his own life. Had to lie downright and tell his mama that they’re church goers alright, just a different sect so they’ll never see them on Sundays. Think he said they was witnesses or somethin’. Sometimes it felt like God was more important to them than even he was, a lonely child ignored for the sake someone they don’t even know’s grace.

Now ain’t the time to be doubtin’ his beliefs, so he sticks to them, and explains, “Hell is where the bad people go when they die.”

“You isn’t a.. a bad people. That other guy was. H-He was mean to Bubba. Anyone m-mean to Bubba gots to sp-splatter.” One of his hands comes down on the rubber lined handle of the wheelchair, making a dull thud that rattles Franklin’s bones. Almost worse than his comment, “H-He smashed up r-real good too, Frankie!”

“Oh God, I’m gonna be sick..” Franklin gets overwhelmed until it tightens in his stomach and feels funny in his throat. He covers his mouth, “You got a bag I could throw up in?”

Despite Franklin’s urgency, Nubbins sounds so casual, “Jus’ lean o-over.”

“My spine is paralyzed silly, I cain't just lean any way I wanna.” Correcting him works to calm Franklin down some at least, staying level headed so he don’t yell at Nubbins over forgetting a good excuse to breathe normal.

“Oh. I c-can help lean ya.” He offers patiently, impressive for Nubbins.

Franklin decides a few deep breaths’ll do. “It’s alright- No I don’t think I’m gonna be sick no more. It’s alright.”

“My sick lasts a.. a l-lot l-longer than that!” There’s something like admiration there in his voice. Like it’s got nothin’ to do with Epstein-Barr and it’s just some talent Franklin has that makes him feel better.

He laughs softly, “That’s ‘cause you got a condition.”

“Nuh-Uh.” Nubbins argues, even though it isn’t true.

“Oh, alright.” Franklin just agrees ‘cause that’s easier. And things are good for a while, pleasant. ‘Til his worries come out again and the reality of running away from murder with Nubbins sets in, “You think your brother is mad at me?”

“N-No. Not you. H-He don’ hit no o-outsiders.”

“I ain’t an outsider. I’m your best friend.”

Switching to pushing the wheelchair with only one hand, he shakes out the other, happy from hearing Franklin say that. Nubbins wants Franklin to be happy too, “That’s true. B-But.. I won’ let him hurt ya! I-I’ll take the beatin’. It’s no t-trouble.”

Somehow, that brings more dread into Franklin’s heart, “Critter, that don’t make me feel better.”

Not knowing a better way to settle it, Nubbins just shrugs and keeps down the path towards home, imitating buzzing car engines as they pass, or the crunch of Franklin’s wheels along the cracking road. Ain’t all that worried honestly for the crime scene they’re leaving behind.

That’s when Franklin remembers that the second he had swung the bat, Bubba got overwhelmed by the confrontation and run off towards home. Can tell he’s in there from the curtains being drawn up tight when he knows for certain they was open when he got dropped off this morning.

Nubbins seems to remember about the same and takes off jogging a little faster down the rest of the drive, shaking Franklin’s wheelchair around accidentally. He lets it slide since it’s a big brother’s concern for his sibling causing the rush and don’t ask him to slow down.

After dragging him backwards up the stairs, Nubbins shoves the door open and calls out, “B-Bubba, you home yet?”

If they’re quiet, they can both hear a quiet chuffing noise deep in the house somewhere, Bubba making noises like a pig to soothe himself.

“C’mon L-Leatherface, answer me if- if you’s here!” Nubbins raises his voice some impatiently while pulling Franklin inside after himself.

This time they get some babbling in response, and though Franklin wishes he understood the little Sawyer’s language, he’s not a master yet.

It’s a good thing Nubbins answers his question just fine, “Yeh, I-I got Frankie with me. You c-come out. I need- I need helps with supper.”

Out of the basement he emerges, no sign of the distress beyond an extra layer of clothes, a soft jacket he wears when he needs the comfort. Don’t know who it belonged to for it to be so large, hanging down past his curled up hands and almost to his knees, but he loves that thing. At some point, Franklin realized it was a woman’s robe and thought it might belong to his mother, but she’s a mystery to Franklin too.

“Cook gonna be o-ornery when he gets home, so’s I-I want you to help make s-somethin’ good!” Taking on the big brother role, Nubbins bosses him around, “Me ‘n F-Frankie, we gonna clean up and get- get the house nice, s-so you gonna cook!”

All together they get it presentable, sweeping the floors and wiping down the counters. Franklin is assigned to the dining room only since he’s never been in the kitchen, setting up a fancy table cloth and some plates. Never seen the place look so tidy before, wonders if they only do cleaning up for the holidays or guests.

Somehow it all feels like he’s preparing for the gallows, sentenced to a hanging the very moment Drayton gets home and subjects him to whatever punishment he’s got to face. An eye for an eye, killed by the same bat maybe? The police called on him and shooting him blank in the head when he cries. Hopefully not one of the oldest Saywer’s signature beatings, he’d almost rather one of the other choices.

He’s shaking like a leaf by the time Drayton cracks the door open, talking to them at a low tone ‘cause he knows they’d be close, not stupid enough to hide after this.

“Boys. Today’s uh- been a big day, huh?”

Draytons words trail off into a chuckle, but everyone else stays silence. Franklin gives a wet sniffle, on the verge of tears again.

Putting his hands on the back of the master chair, he leans forward and glances down the table, showing a crooked smile. “Supper don’t look too bad. Uh. I brought you uh- somethin’ down from the station-“

Over his shoulder, he gestures to a grocery bag he left by the door.

Nubbins starts bouncing in his seat, drumming his palms against the table, “I-Is it the beeve!?”

“Don’t you go ruinin’ the surprise!” Drayton kicks the seat of his chair, all that modest cheer melted into fury in the literal blink of an eye, “Did you tell him?!”

Franklin swallows thickly, “Tell me what, sir?”

“About the meat!”

“No.. I.. No sir. I don’t got a clue what you’re talkin’ about. Either of ya.”

“In that case-“ He goes off to retrieve the bag and brings it to the table, raising it up along with his eyebrows at the same time, nudging it forward until he unveils what’s inside. Butchered meat, it seems, but the third piece comes out with lightly burnt skin left on, and a tattoo. “Congratulations, Franklin! You’re one of us now!”

“My- My firstie t-time was a long time ago. You’s jus’ a l-late bloomer like Bubba!” Nubbins adds, clapping Franklin on his shoulder over and over, like he’s petting a dog.

Franklin who’s mouth has gone so dry he’s got to down half his whole glass of sweet tea, “You’re talkin’ about killin’.”

“Uh-huh! Mine was a.. Bank man! B-Bank man come to take Drayton’s truck away, h-he put his hands on me, a-an’ I slashed his ugly neck r-right open!” Nubbins excitedly imitates an over-exaggerated spraying of blood by pushing air between his teeth and making the splatter with his hands.

It’s amusing, but the gravity of what they’re telling him holds Franklin’s joy down deep inside, “I jus’ don’t understand why. I never known anybody in the whole world to be like this. Killers this way.”

“We gots to eat.” Clearly repeating what somebody else told him, Nubbins gives a noncommittal shrug, “D-Dogs in the world ‘an stuff, w-we gots to eat each other.”

Ah. So he is right about that. Drayton cooked up the man he killed on accident and brought it home as some kind of treat for the boys.

Franklin tries to avoid havin’ to do the act by bringing up his own condition, diabetes type one, “Surely that ain’t good for my blood sugar. I got that disease you know, makes my sugar go up and down and I gotta watch it real close-“

“B-B-But you been eatin’ it j-jus’ fine all this time!” Nubbins interrupts him.

That’s when it clicks. He’s been doin’ what they do. Gettin’ so close to the Sawyers, the town loonies, was gonna end in somethin’ like this he s’posed. Everyone who said he’d always be a weak little baby, well they just didn’t know that he had it written in the stars he was gonna be a killer.

“Sally said the meat tasted rotten.” He comments vaguely, realizin’ he really is special this time.

Nubbins scoffs, never the biggest fan of Sally. “Sh-She would.”

“Oh hush. You aren’t to lay a hand on her, you hear?” Franklin scolds, but it’s just gently, just to make sure he isn’t doin’ the wrong thing by sittin’ at this table and not running.

Well, wheeling. He’d probably not outwheel Nubbins’ run, even if he’s got the arm strength to cave in a human skull.

“Never ever.” Making a cross over his heart, Nubbins declares it to him, “I swears, o-on my s-sick Granny.”

Dead granny. Franklin knows the woman ain’t still kickin’ no matter how much Nubbins insists she is. Though with this revelation he’s goin’ through lately, it prob’ly ain’t a lie that she’s in the upstairs of their house.

“Jesus. Well alright.”

The rest of the agreement is eat the evidence of his crime with the boys, then he’s free to go home. Seems so simple, it gets Franklin’s heart just pounding in his chest.

“I don’t.. Gotta keep up the killin’ now, do I?” He asks, on his way out to get driven back next door.

“Wouldn’t imagine.” Drayton is the only one out here yet while Nubbins runs around like a madman packing back up a bag of toys he’d scattered all around, forgetting Franklin wouldn’t get to stay forever.

“And I’m allowed to go home?” Franklin keeps asking, sounding feeble and scared.

This time he gets a scoff, like he should find that obvious, “Don’t do kidnappin’. Never let the boys keep one longer than a single night. After that- Lights out.”

One more, “And you really won’t hurt my family?”

“Not the girl, anyhow. No promises on your old man.” Drayton cackles, downright, like some kind of witch.

Franklin knows the bastard ain’t kind, certainly not to his own uncle Lefty or his wife, or actually his kids now that he thinks about it, but he’s not sure his Daddy deserves death over that. “That ain’t funny.”

“Wasn’t joking.” The oldest Sawyer assures him, cold smile dropping away again. “Siblings, they mean a lot more to the heart. You’ll understand that someday way I do.”

He extinguishes the cigarette he’d been smoking right in Franklins face by crushing it against a window sill, “That’s your little sister an’ I’ll respect it. Not a hair outta place on little Sally’s head.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“In exchange for that you keep your damn yap shut.”

Eagerly, to show he ain’t gonna two time, Franklin nods his head, “Yes sir! This stays between me and y’all and the Lord.”

He gets a disgruntled comment under Drayton’s breath that he doesn’t even hear, “Shit, you’re jus’ like your uncle, boy.”

His faith been tested today, but he oughta lean into it while he can. Keep himself from goin’ completely off the edge. Somehow the Sawyers seem to have managed that much, though, like Drayton said, they’ve got each other. God is so far away, nothin’ at all like a sibling he can hate or hold in his arms, depending on the day.

God severs the spine of a little baby and leaves him to die with prayers and prayers from his family that never quite reached him. Little babies grow up into boys in wheelchairs, who can’t even eat a handful of sweet berries without his body threatening to give up on him. Grow into killers, given the right support. Ain’t gotta let himself lose now.

Drayton seems to hear all that thinkin’ somehow, some twisted way of his, and goes back on his word on the truck drive. He waves Franklin away, “Go on and get. Nubbins’ll get ya back home. Tell ‘em I needed your help handin’ me tools down the station and lost track of time. They’ll believe that.”

A test of will or an alibi, he ain’t quite sure, but he nods his head. Just one thing he’s worried about, “If they don’t?”

“You tell me. We’ll do what needs done.” Drayton says it like it’s simple, and clenches one hand, bringing it up in the air and then back down. Franklin realizes he’s miming stabbing someone or beatin’ ‘em with a hammer.

“Um… Thank you Mr. Drayton. For not killing me too.” They both flinch when Nubbins finally slams the door open so hard it clatters against the wall, earning him a quick slap before they can continue on their way. “Um. Goodnight, sir.”

Halfway down the trail, Nubbins glances back at the shrinking house light.

“You scared of big brother, a-ain’t ya?”

“A little.” Franklin confesses.

Makes him a little sad when Nubbins whispers, “Me t-too..”

It’s them two that’re bonded. Theres bad on both sides, from a rotten temperament to a lack of care, to stuck up Sally and mean old Drayton. His home is with his best friend, in his heart, just as Sawyer as any of the others. That’s his comfort for a long time, knowing he’s capable, got backup when he needs it, and a dead body under his belt. Ain’t no invalid.

[creepycrawliesanonymous]

The call couldn’t have come at a more inopportune time.

You had just sat down for an episode of Community. Not even 3 minutes in, hand resting on top of an almost full bowl of potato chips, your phone lit up.

Lemon: pick us up

Lemon: now

Lemon: please

Lemon: <3 or whatever the fuck

If the other cars on the road could see smoke coming out of your ears, they wisely didn’t say anything. You pulled over in front of what was probably the grossest (yet cheapest) dive bar in all of London, which had recently gotten a new makeover to the tune of a smashed window and several broken seats both inside and outside the bar. And most notably, the two headaches that you call your roommates.

Lemon stuck his elbow into Tangerine’s ribs at the sight of your beat up Toyota Camry. With a certain amount of wincing from Tangerine, and sheepish-yet-still-angry glances from Lemon, they started to walk over to you. This was not the first time this had happened. The bar owner (a pre-calc classmate of yours from school that was held back a couple times, but that barely matters here) had stopped calling the police, knowing that the pair would be back the next day to put things in order for him. They may be heathens but they didn’t completely disregard the service industry.

Lemon opened the back door of your car and loaded up his companion into the seats, swiping away the various candy wrappers and assorted animal figurines you had floating around back there. Tangerine let out a low grumble, bringing a hand up to gingerly massage at his rib cage.

“Fucker threw me through a window.”

“I can fucking see that.”

Lemon climbed into the seat next to you, and you swiftly, while also obeying traffic laws, pulled away from the wreckage and started home.

“Honestly don’t know what he was thinking. He was being a prick the whole night. Would’ve thrown him out the window myself, to be honest.” Lemon was desperately trying to get into your good graces, but you kept your eyes focused squarely on the road in front of you.

“I can’t believe you two,” you huffed out. “Honestly, what the fuck.” You snuck a glance at Tangerine out of the rear view mirror, who was looking notably morose, yet still clearly a bit fired up from the whole ordeal. “Are you okay? You fucking idiot, don’t even think about lying to me.”

“Ribs.”

“I’ll look at them when we get home.”

Lemon moved to change the music playing, but you slapped his hand away.

“George Harrison stays on.”

He quieted down after that, seemingly content to listen to you quietly seethe. The track switched to “Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M.” while Tangerine poked at his abdomen and quietly groaned. You knew in your heart of hearts that you were unequipped to properly treat whatever he had gone and done to himself. Tomorrow you would call your friend in med school to walk you through the motions, but tonight it was bandages and pain killers for him. Maybe an ice pack or two.

“I’ll get him inside,” Lemon nudged your forearm before leaving from beside you, hoisting his brother out of the car amidst various British-sounding curses (let’s be clear, from both of them, how typical). Giving them a moment, or more accurately giving yourself a moment, you leaned your forehead against the steering wheel and took some measured breaths. You knew once you properly cooled off, you’d be left with a rather embarrassing nervous vulnerability. Not to say you’d never gotten emotional in front of them, they saw you when you were a scraggly awkward teen and by some miracle that didn’t put them off, but now that you were all older you couldn’t help but become hyper aware of the growing differences between you and the two of them. You were wary with how you were finding scarier weapons in Tangerine’s room, or how Lemon started talking about gory ways to make extra money. You weren’t going to stop them, but goddamn it you were allowed to worry.

A rapping at your window knocked you out of you spiraling. “You comin’ out?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You scrubbed at your cheeks and stepped out of the car. “He still cogent?”

Lemon huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, for now.” He paused, before pulling you into a hug. “Listen. I know shit’s difficult right now, and we’re both fucking idiots. We don’t like making you worry.”

You tucked your face into his shoulder, letting yourself be held for at least this small moment.

“I just need you two to be okay.”

You leaned back, swiping at any stray moisture that may or may not have collected under your eyes. He swung his arm around your shoulders, rubbing his knuckles into the top of your head, just like when you were 10. For now, that would be enough.

[chiyeko-kurea]

white girl rant

mc tavish scottish accent i hate mini doorways i can’t see if someones comin in until they’re in the middle of my room like jeez stop giving me anxiety i love when i wake up and my dog is on my bed. i know it’s because im the only one who allows her to sleep on my bed but i like to think that in the middle of the night her brain just thought of me and went ‘i wanna go sleep next to her’ i know it’s not the case she’s just bored of sleeping on the hard floor yet she always falls alseep in my sister’s bedroom she prefers to go there just to be beside her oh my god the only thing that makes her finally go in my room is discomfort. but when she wakes up she asks for cuddles and to be pet a bit and i like to imagine she’s my dog only and she’s mine and she gets me and she’s not my freaking dad’s favorite daughter. and she prefers my dad he made me so upset today i cried and i felt ashamed and like a loser because i asked him several times to sign me up to a tennis class to try it out and he did and then i panicked so much i couldn’t do it because i dont want to be alone with a man but then it was gonna be a woman days later so i said yay but the days flew by and i realized to matter who i can never find what to say and im awkward and ugly and my whole lower face skin is peeling away and my teeth are fucked up and my chin skin is flayed raw and bright bloody red and i have acne and dark circles and an embarrassing smile and i can’t play tennis for shit. for. shit. so i acted all moody teenager and i thought my dad was gonna be like you know what it’s fine if you dont wanna do it i don’t get why you changed your mind but that’s okay i’ll just cancel it. he didn’t. he was aggressive and mean and purposely shamed me in front of the family and reminded very loudly the price even though he didn’t even paid yet and my sister had to go for me and i sat there watching her be so extraverted and comfortable with a stranger when i know i wouldn’t have been able to say a word that didn’t sounded weird and wanting to cry every second and burst in tears and my dad was so so mean and usually he gets me, and my sister saved me and went i got home i burst into tears in my room and he just wanted me to try a new thing and i just wanted to cut cut cut and why on earth am i this fucking awkward loser with my earphones in and too big black hoodie like im some kind of pseudo rebellious annoying emo kid i just want to be pretty and funny and shine like why do i the worse part is i kind of really wanted to try tennis. and i think i would’ve been good. i think would not have made a total fool of myself thing is whatever i do i am a fool anyway, i am a fool for even thinking for one day of my goddamn life i could have not ruined everything. my dad looked at me weirdly the rest of the evening and i wanted to yell maybe im reminding you of your loser son you lost to drugs no shocker we get along i also want to lose myself and you saw my scars you know there’s something wrong with me and there’s something wrong with him and with you and with all of us and wherever your blood is. i like my dad, he’s a good father but at the end of the day he’s a man, and not a better one than the others. if i have good grades and a pretty face let me tell you there is NOTHING you can complain of me. i am working on my appearance to be prettier to not embarrass you anymore but one day you will have nothing to complain about and i will do whatever i want and you will try to say what changed and i will say it’s not of your business anymore you can introduce me to anyone and say yes she’s my daughter she is clever pretty she has friends she reads and she jogs and i will be perfect and i will throw plates at your head and i will be the worse and no one will know. montgommery forever and ever and ever and i will blow up and i will become a doctor and have a boyfriend and you will say we used to laugh and i will say you were there but somehow the moments when i NEEDED you to understand me you didn’t. you got me but never got me. i cant stop seeing you as a man no matter how fathe

[thehangeddemon]

Birthday Boy || Roiel || July 29, 2023

Ariel: {Text from Ariel to Rohan} You still comin to my party?

Rohan: {Text to Ariel} Of course I am

{Text to Ariel} How could I stand up my boyfriend on his birthday?

Ariel: {Text} Living across the country for one

{Text} That's your favorite word now

Rohan: {Text} I told you distances were never long in my world

{Text} It's yours too, don't try and fool me

Ariel: {Text} And lover. Baby. Sweet thing.

{Text} What time you arrive at JFK?

Rohan: {Text} What if I told you I wasn't arriving at JFK

Ariel: {Text} LGA?

Rohan: Rohan took a deep breath.

{Text} Do you remember the question you asked me when you saw my bracelet?

Ariel: {Text} Whatever you're gonna say can we say on FaceTime or something?

Rohan: {Text} Okay

The moment Ariel received that text, he would be getting a video call from a slightly disheveled looking Rohan.

Ariel: And Rohan would see his man, shirtless, with a toothbrush in his mouth.

"Oh, one sec!"

Rohan: Rohan immediately grinned. So cute.

"Take your time."

Ariel: If he had to admit, he didn't believe Rohan had any idea what FaceTime was. Had expected this call to take longer. That was on him.

The faucet was turned on, turned off. He appeared on camera a moment later with a grin.

"Hi."

Rohan: No matter his age, Abel and Ramsay were always determined that Rohan not be a clueless old man. Never mind that they weren't that much younger than he was.

"Hi. Bad time?"

Ariel: "I suggested this!" he laughed. He took a seat on the bedroom floor, next to a bunch of computer parts by his desk.

"Just felt like it was gonna get serious."

Rohan: Rohan shook his head. “Not necessarily. Maybe for someone else but we…have a different understanding of how the world works and what exists in it.”

Ariel: Ariel rested his cheek in his hand. "You know... I was told I shouldn't talk about that kinda thing on the phone period."

Rohan: “We don’t have to, in so many words. Let’s just say…that I’ll be at your loft quicker than one might expect.”

Ariel: "I love the way you talk. You know that?"

Rohan: “Do I sound like a book?”

Ariel: "People in books talk like people," he laughed. "I guess... I guess you talk like... I dunno. Like a European professor."

Rohan: Rohan’s smile was far softer and more emotional than such a comment warranted. He almost felt the need to turn away so Ariel wouldn’t see.

“Why thank you.”

Ariel: Perception versus wit. Rohan had asked that question specifically. Someone had said the same? Maybe just doubted his own habits. Hmm.

"So I'm not picking you up anywhere?"

Rohan: He shook his head. "Nope. Just tell me when to be at your loft and I'll be there."

Ariel: "Can be here right now. Just putting together my PC. The bartender gets here at, like, 4-something, people get here at 5. We're all going to Embers after."

Rohan: "All right. I'll get ready and be there soon. I have to wash the cobwebs out of my hair."

Ariel: It appeared for a split-second Ariel had taken the comment literally. He then waved his hand and his naivete away.

"Get outta here. Hey! Are you staying over?"

Rohan: Rohan's grin was practically mischievous. He couldn't wait to see the look on Ariel's face when he made good on his word and appeared at his door in the next hour.

"Would you like me to?"

Ariel: "Yeah, of course!" How long from their first meeting until now? A week? Two? Felt like months.

Rohan: It had been about two but Rohan felt the same. It seemed like much, much longer which in turn made him feel like a teenager wanting to be around his crush all the time.

"I'll pack an overnight bag then."

Ariel: Ariel visibly perked. He wanted nothing more than to tell Rohan to skip the shower. Shower here. Shower with him. He didn't know what was stopping him, other than wanting to present some modicum of patience.

And when he should have spoken, he hadn't, because imagining Rohan wet from head to toe was all he could see. Had to shake his head to shoo away the thought.

"Kay. Wanna just stay on the phone? Can put you on the desk."

Rohan: Rohan was no telepath, but he didn't need to be one to guess where Ariel's mind had gone. Or to feel incredibly pleased about it.

He was definitely turning back into a teenager.

"Sure, I'll put you back on speaker while I shower."

Ariel: "Get the camera at a good angle!" just escaped his mouth without a second of consideration.

Rohan: Rohan laughed. "You're going to have to settle for your imagination. Besides, aren't you supposed to be putting together your PC?"

Ariel: "Aw come on, really?" he laughed.

Rohan: "Wouldn't you rather see me fully naked for the first time in person and not through a camera?"

Ariel: "Baby I'm not picky." He ducked his head, mumbling, "Just miss you."

Rohan: Sweet boy.

"You get an angle from the chest up and nothing more, since you've already seen that much. Does that take the sting out of missing me?"

Ariel: "Did you forget being in my mouth?" His cheek was back in the palm of his hand.

Rohan: "I couldn't forget if an anvil fell on my head."

Flashes of Rohan's cabin would be seen as he made his way to the bathroom. He set his phone on the little shelf above his towel rack and turned to start the shower.

Ariel: Ariel did nothing for a time, observing the fleeting surroundings before being set aside. Once the shower began running did he reluctantly turn back to his scattered pieces of computer.

Rohan: Although Rohan had said that he’d only give Ariel an angle from the chest up, having his phone on the towel rack widened the angle and gave his DJ a view encompassing most of his torso.

Rohan stripped, tossed his clothes in the hamper, and got in. Not two minutes later, however, he paused with a surprised yelp.

Ariel: Maybe it was teasing, playing hard to get. Maybe it was Rohan being shy, but Ariel couldn't understand why. Little thoughts that were as quick as a snap while looking for his magnetic screwdriver.

The yelp had him facing the camera again.

"Baby?"

Rohan: Rohan was frozen with his hands in his hair but one of his hands was moving. It almost looked like he was scratching his head. Almost.

“I think there’s a spider in my hair. I’m trying to get it.”

Ariel: "Fucking what?!" There was nothing he could do! What the hell was he supposed to do? He laughed, is what he did, one of those incredulous, nervous laughs.

"Throw your head down and fucking shake that shit!"

Rohan: “I told you I had to wash cobwebs out of my hair!” Now that the surprise had passed, there was genuine humor in Rohan’s voice.

“She might drown if I do that. Oh, there we go.” Carefully, he closed his fingers around the spider and pulled her out of his hair. Luckily, the bathroom’s only window was against the walls of the shower so opening it and putting the spider outside was easy.

“Go on, little thing,” he said to the spider.

Ariel: "Yeah!" That was entirely the point! Get her off and away! "I thought you were just being dramatic!" Let that be a lesson to him to take Rohan's words more literally.

"You just - You just held a fucking spider."

Rohan: “I was serious!” he chuckled as he closed the window again. “The cat chased a squirrel into the attic, it was a whole thing.”

Back to wetting his hair properly. “It was just a little one, she wasn’t going to hurt me. Are you afraid of them?”

Ariel: "Yeah, man, I guess so! No spiders, no snakes! No creepy crawlies!"

Ariel looked back to his computer. There was no way he was getting this done yet.

"Your cat?" he asked, picking up the phone and bringing it downstairs to the kitchen.

Rohan: “Rossmara’s cat,” he said, lathering up his hair. “I was working up at the main house when the slapstick started.”

The fact that this big strong man didn’t like bugs made Rohan smile. “I’ll rescue you from all the creepy crawlies, don’t worry.”

Ariel: "Gee, thanks." But he would be grateful, one night when he least expected it. And it would be fucking romantic, of course.

"So you don't got a dog? Cat?" A yogurt was pulled from his fridge.

Rohan: “No but I’m starting to really want a cat. I’ve always liked them, just haven’t had one since I was little.” Maybe he’d go down the shelter one of these days and see if any cats took a liking to him.

Ariel: "Like any cat, or you want a Garfield?"

The phone was placed on the opposite counter, taking a seat by the sink.

Rohan: “I’m not picky. Was just thinking that I should go to a shelter and see if any of the cats they have like me.”

Ariel: "Had dogs growing up. Not mine. My grandparents. I mean... they were ours but they weren't mine. They were Papa's uh..." His voice trailed, staring at his yogurt. A sudden wash of self-consciousness took over. He couldn't explain it. Felt like he was talking too much.

"Uh, yeah. Goldies."

Rohan: Rohan was smiling for all he was worth, enjoying hearing Ariel speak. It was shame that his DJ felt like he had to cut himself off, however.

Nothing some encouragement couldn’t help.

“How many? What were their names?”

Ariel: "Uh, two. Mimi and Drew." He smiled to himself, cleared his throat. Why did he suddenly feel naked? Even that wouldn't bother him as much as this alien feeling.

"You had cats growing up?"

Rohan: “Cute.” Rohan slathered conditioner in his hair and shut the water off while he washed the rest of himself.

“I did. When I was about six I took in a gray tabby I found by the railroad. I named her Jasper. Then there was Agatha. She was black and white and just appeared in our yard one day when I was in junior high.”

Ariel: Ariel looked up from his yogurt. Of course Rohan would take in strays, but the man he had met the night at the club seemed the type to get whatever he wanted.

"Why's the water off?"

Rohan: "So the conditioner doesn't get rinsed out of my hair before it should," he said, disappearing from view while he scrubbed his legs.

"The last cat we had when I was growing up was Rat Bastard. He was a big black cat with this face that always looked mildly displeased."

Ariel: "So... a shelter, huh?" He finished his yogurt and hopped down from the counter. "I could go with you. Not telling you what to do, just... see what you pick."

Rohan: Rohan popped back up with a smile. "I was hoping you would. I was going to invite you along but I'm glad you beat me to the punch."

Ariel: "That's all the way in Cali." He was going through the process of plane tickets and time off when he remembered what Rohan had said. The very reason he would be here soon.

"I'm screwing around. Come on." Back upstairs to the desktop. He realized as he sat back down that what was making him fidget was the lack of music. He'd have to live with it, because there was no way he was hanging up on a shower scene.

"Hey, look at me real quick?"

Rohan: “That’s not a problem.” Provided that Ariel didn’t react horribly to the notion of magic or magical travel.

He turned the water back on and began rinsing himself off as Ariel went upstairs, mind already in his closet and trying to decide what to wear. Maybe Ariel could help him choose.

“What is it?” he asked, turning to his phone.

Ariel: "Thanks." Rohan would hear a shutter sound, followed by a giggle. Ariel was most definitely not doing anything else.

"You're hot, baby. Your hair in your face. Gimme a kiss!"

Rohan: “Ariel!” Rohan laughed, pushing wet hair out of his face. “Don’t make me put my phone on speaker and wear a turtleneck to your birthday.”

Ariel: "What?" Only his eyes could be seen, hiding his shit-eating grin.

"I'll be good! I'll be good! Look. I'm over here. I got my screwdriver! My dick is definitely not in my hand. See!" Both hands and a screwdriver!

Rohan: Rohan leaned in close to his phone and squinted. “You saying it’s not in your hand doesn’t mean it’s not out.”

The shower went off and he reached for his towel. The shower show was over.

Ariel: "Do you not want my dick out?" Ariel bit his lip.

Rohan: “I didn’t say that,” Rohan said thoughtfully as he wrapped his towel around his waist. He was smiling to himself. “But if you wait…”

Ariel: "How you want me to wait? Like this?"

Rohan was placed on the end of the bed. Allowing him to see his man in just his sweatpants.

"Want me like this?" He pulled at his waistband just enough to expose what looking at Rohan had caused. He looked down at himself and back to the camera, bit his lip again.

Rohan: That face was living breathing sin. Ariel had absolutely no business looking like that when Rohan was still so far away from him.

How was he ever going to look at his phone with a straight face again?

“You’re going to kill me.”

Ariel: His mouth opened, ready to say something completely inappropriate, but laughed instead, at himself and what he had done to his brand-new boyfriend. He was stupid-giddy happy.

"Come on, baby. You remember the code to get in?"

Rohan: And that laugh? Entirely too cute. Completely unacceptable.

“I remember it. What do you want me to wear? Don’t say nothing.”

Ariel: "Ah - damn." He laughed again. "Uh... Staying for a while, so just bring what you like." Because he wanted to know what that looked like. "What you think looks sexy on you?"

Rohan: “I don’t aim for sexy when I get dressed.” He set his phone on top of his dresser and left it facing the ceiling to tease the man on the other end of the line.

Ariel: "What am I looking at that's definitely not you?"

Rohan: “My bedroom ceiling.” Would Ariel be able to hear his smile?

Ariel: "I'm not dating your ceiling fan!" he laughed.

Rohan: “Let it keep you company while I get dressed! I’ll still be here talking to you.”

Ariel: "You really don't think you're sexy?" No longer being able to see Rohan was enough of a cut off to get him back to work on the mess on his floor.

Rohan: “Not really? I’ve never thought of myself that way.”

A nice shirt, nice pants, and a jacket. Less formal than a suit but still appropriate for the occasion.

The outfit was laid out on his bed and to give his hair a chance to dry a little, he gathered the rest of what he would need.

Ariel: "I'm gonna kick your ex's ass. There's no way." He had already thought about that night one. Starting at the diner. There was no way someone as fine as Rohan felt as shitty as he did about himself all on his own. Someone had done this to him.

"Don't forget your toothbrush," he whispered into the mic.

Rohan: “There’s no need for such extremes. Some people just don’t see themselves as sexy, that’s all. I don’t think I should be locked in a bell tower or anything like that.” His image of himself wasn’t that poor.

“Toothbrush,” he repeated, heading back into the bathroom.

Ariel: "Hey, Guasi-whats-his-face had a nice... eye."

He couldn't see what was happening but assumed Rohan had disappeared into the bathroom.

There was one way to test this.

How about a nice, soft, submissive moan.

Rohan: “Quasimodo. And yes, he did.”

Ariel’s little test was met with the sound of something clattering as it hit the floor. But Rohan wouldn’t give in! He wouldn’t rush to see what his DJ was doing!

“Build your PC!” he called.

Ariel: A sigh! "Fine! Almost done! Just installing a new fan." And a new keyboard still in its box, but never mind that.

"What fell?"

Rohan: “My comb.” His voice sounded closer now; he was back in his room.

Sans towel, but Ariel didn’t need to know that. Rohan was about to get dressed anyway.

Ariel: "You got five minutes before I'm putting my hand down my pants." Because now he knew what that did to his man. This was going to be his favorite weapon.

Rohan: “I need more than five minutes to pack and look nice for you. I don’t even have my underwear on yet.”

Ariel: "Liar. Photos or you're a liar!"

Rohan: “You know what I look like without underwear on!” The sound of a drawer opening and closing and the soft sound of fabric against skin. “There, it’s on.”

Ariel: "You're so shy, baby. It's cute." Could have also been that they had only just started, but that had never stopped anyone in the past.

"Hey, babe?"

Rohan: “I’m not cute. You’re cute.”

Rohan got his pants on and finally saved Ariel from having to look at the ceiling, propping him against the dresser mirror.

“What is it?”

Ariel: This time it would be Rohan with hardly anything worth looking at. Just the curve of Ariel's back as he worked on his PC.

"You'd tell me if I'm being too much?"

Rohan: “What do you mean too much? You haven’t done anything I feel a need to talk to you about.”

Ariel: I don't want to fuck this up. I'm being me, but being me could be too much.

His body had stilled, but after a moment he sighed and smiled.

"If I do... when I do... you can, you know, spank me."

Rohan: “Am I the one who needs to beat up your ex? You don’t have to censor yourself around me. You know that, don’t you? I want you to feel comfortable with me.”

Ariel: "I'm being comfortable. Cross my heart. I just..." He debated for a moment on just telling the truth.

"You're just shy and I don't wanna cross some line I don't know exists yet."

Rohan: “You haven’t,” Rohan assured gently. “I’m a big boy, I know how to speak up when I’m not okay with something. If I feel I need to, I will, okay?”

Ariel: "I promise and you promise?" He couldn't imagine Rohan crossing some unfathomable boundary. Anything outlandish he could think of was just that, something he knew, just knew Rohan wasn't capable of.

"Has it been five minutes yet?"

Rohan: He smiled softly. "I promise, sweet boy." The nickname slipped out before he could stop it and now that it had, there was no taking it back. He just hoped Ariel didn't dislike it too much.

"No, not yet. I need to finish getting ready and pack."

Ariel: Ariel didn't seem to even notice the pet name, as though Rohan had already said it a hundred times before.

"You haven't even packed?" Came as a strained whisper.

Rohan: "A certain DJ who shall remain nameless keeps being naughty and distracting me."

Ariel: "I'm about to be really naughty," was now the threat. "Know why? I'm done with my computer."

Rohan: "I better hurry up then. Think you can survive twenty more minutes without me?"

Ariel: Alas. Their video call was coming to an end. He could try and tempt him. But there was no need for phone sex that would only delay the real thing.

"Yeah fine. I'll see you soon."

Rohan: “I’ll reward you for your patience. See you soon.”

Rohan smiled and ended the call, then texted Ramsay.

He disclosed no information other than he needed to get to Brooklyn—because the less information Ramsay had, the better—and finished getting ready.

Ariel: With no Rohan to distract him, Ariel turned his attention to the electronic keyboard still in its box, leaned up against the desk. A $500 investment he hoped would get more mileage than the cheap forgotten relic he'd finally gotten around to throwing out.

Ariel went downstairs long enough to turn on some music, his rainbow of lights, and hauled back upstairs to tackle his final chore.

Rohan: Rohan had just enough time to finish packing before Ramsay arrived. Despite not having been told any details, Ramsay cheerfully bombarded him with questions about where he was going in Brooklyn and why, all of which Rohan ignored or gave vague answers to.

He knew there wasn’t anything malicious behind the interrogation but even so, he wanted to enjoy his new relationship in private for just a little longer. He didn’t want to share Ariel yet.

Once they arrived in Brooklyn, Rohan sent Ramsay on his merry way and headed to Ariel’s, but not without making a quick pit stop first.

{Text} On my way

{Text} When I knock on your door, close your eyes before you open it okay?

Ariel: {Text} What did you do? 

{Text} Watch it be the bartender

Remembering the real possibility of just that, he slipped on a lavender sleeveless and looked around for anything to tidy up. All chaos was contained upstairs, but still, he could feel those familiar butterflies taking flight in his stomach.

Rohan: "What bartender?" Rohan said to himself as he read Ariel's message, amused.

{Text} You'll see soon enough

'Soon enough' would turn out to be just under five minutes. Hoping that Ariel would do as he requested, Rohan adjusted the load he was carrying and knocked on his boyfriend's door.

When it opened, he would wait a beat or two before telling Ariel to open his eyes and presenting him with a large assorted bouquet of purple flowers in a myriad of shades.

"Happy birthday, Ariel."

Ariel: This was fine. This was fine! Just shy of two weeks wasn't that long at all. It was the longest he'd gone without sex in so long he'd forgotten. Just thinking about Rohan's pale skin and bright eyes was getting him warm.

And there it was, and he was looking at the clock on his phone, perplexed.

"I know you're a witch but that's stupid fast." He was going to cringe if this was in fact the bartender, but surprise surprise...

"Hey, baby!" He wasn't going to ignore those flowers, but he was going to pull Rohan to his lips before acknowledging them.

"That's so sweet. Thanks."

The door was shut behind him, and no sooner were the flowers put on the counter was Rohan in his arms.

Rohan: "I told you it would be," Rohan chuckled. He'd expected--hoped for--a little more fawning over the flowers, but he should've guessed that Ariel would be more excited about him than a bouquet.

He wasn't about to complain though. Oh no, he was going to savor that kiss after two weeks without and squeeze his boyfriend as tightly as he pleased.

"You're welcome." Another kiss. "Hi. I missed you."

Ariel: God, he'd missed those bright eyes so much. The way his hair fell between and shadowed them, paired with that honest smile just made a perfect picture.

"Missed you, baby." Already squeezing Rohan's ass in both hands. He should have asked for him sooner. Should have had him stay the night before. Life was getting in the way.

He didn't notice he'd pressed Rohan's back to the door. Too caught up in stealing kisses.

Rohan: Beyond the joy at being able to see and touch Ariel again, Rohan felt relieved. A part of him had feared that his boyfriend wouldn’t be glad to see him given recent events with Xavier and January, despite the enthusiasm his DJ had showed for him at every turn.

Enthusiasm that was very much met and returned in kind. Just the scent that clung to Ariel was enough to have Rohan humming low in his throat and aching to shed his clothes.

The door? Not even on his radar. There was only Ariel.

Ariel: There was a lot he was trying to push out of sight until they were truly alone. Any minute now they would lose privacy, and he wanted desperately to remain positive until he could no longer bear it. Regardless of circumstances, how he felt seeing Rohan after nearly two weeks was sincere.

Warm hands roamed from Rohan's ass to his abdomen, tugging at his shirt as he slid down, determined to kiss bare skin.

His scent was better than flowers. There was no gift greater than his presence.

Rohan: Reason was at war with Rohan's need. Ariel had mentioned the bartender which meant that he was expecting him soon. Unlike the last time they'd been together, today they didn't have the luxury of time. It was for a good reason as it was Ariel's birthday, but it still meant that they had to rein themselves in.

But those hands and those kisses were so hard to resist and Rohan was only human.

His breath stuttered as his boyfriend's lips met his skin. "How much time do we have?"

Ariel: "Absolutely none," he laughed, gently nipping at tender bare skin with abandon. Not intent in leaving a mark, but it was a love bite just the same.

"Missed you so much."

Rohan: The gasps Ariel elicited dissolved into soft laughter. And Rohan had really doubted that his boyfriend would be glad to see him.

"I missed you, too, sweet boy."

Ariel: All of that doubt for nothing. His flowers were being ignored for what truly mattered.

They were just repeating themselves and Ariel didn't seem to notice, or care. Just making his way back to those lips with abandon with the doorbell rang again.

"Oh shit," he laughed. "I got it. Make yourself at home."

Rohan: Rohan gave a helpless sigh. And just like that, 'soon' came so much sooner than either of them would've liked. They hadn't managed to fit in nearly enough kisses to make up for their time apart but there was always later.

"I'll go put my stuff upstairs." He'd also get himself together because he was certain Ariel had managed to muss him up quite a bit.

Ariel: Ariel held Rohan's hand for as long as he could, letting the witch slip through his fingers before finally opening the door. The bartender, a man of equal height and age, with envious curls and a neutral expression wheeled his precious cargo into the kitchen and set to work with minimal chat.

With the door closing on its own, Ariel excused himself to redress upstairs.

Rohan: Ariel would find Rohan in the bathroom adjusting his clothes and making sure his hair and face didn’t show any signs of what had happened at the door.

He really didn’t want his first impression on Ariel’s friends to be them speculating about the intimacy between them.

“How do I look?” he’d ask when his boyfriend joined him.

Ariel: "Like I done got me a sexy millionaire."

Those arms made their way back around his ribs, giving a playful bite at his neck, growling and laughing.

"You look great, baby. Now I gotta get dressed."

Rohan: “Sweet talker,” Rohan said with a grin, stopping Ariel at one bite and kissing his cheek so they wouldn’t get distracted again.

“Thank you. I’ll leave you to it.”

Ariel: Rohan was just watched, despite the urgency of time. He had plans, ideas, desires, some of which sat on the tip of his tongue. He took his boyfriend's hand and squeezed.

"Hey, I got... I got something for you. Not like, a present, but sorta."

Rohan: Rohan tilted his head curiously and gave Ariel's hand a return squeeze. "Something for me? But it's your birthday. You're the one who should be getting things today."

Ariel: "You're... right. Maybe I shouldn't," he laughed.

Rohan: He brought his DJ's hand to his lips. "You can always give it to me tomorrow. We've got time."

Ariel: How could he get dressed with Rohan so close?

"I should give it to you now, I mean, you need it. It's just... I'm worried it's too soon?"

Rohan: "Well now you've got me intrigued." Something Rohan needed that Ariel was worried about giving him because it was too soon?

Rohan's first thought was that it was a key to the loft, which wouldn't have fazed him in any way were it to be the case, given how expeditiously their relationship had been going thus far. But maybe that was him projecting his desires of domesticity.

Ariel: Something of the sort. Ariel plucked up the courage and walked backwards to the walk-in closet his computer desk leaned against. To a small space where clothes had been moved and pushed aside, just for Rohan.

"I know we got some shit to talk about. Like Dracula showing up and shit, but, like..." He gestured to the closet, to the space, looking back to Rohan with a bitten lip.

Rohan: “Oh,” Rohan said softly, feeling a comforting little tug in his chest as he smiled at the empty space in the closet. Even though he didn’t think Xavier would interfere with their relationship, he and Ariel did have things to talk about and tell each other that were important.

But right now? Right now he was going to let himself enjoy this thoughtful gesture.

Rohan stepped closer and gave Ariel a kiss. “Thank you.”

Ariel: A kiss returned in kind. Rohan's face was taken in both hands, tongue gently yet eagerly offered. He could work himself up with just a kiss, but they had things to do. Or well, he did.

"Make yourself at home, baby. Okay?"

Rohan: That was exactly why he tried to keep the kiss as short and sweet as he could. Still, he couldn’t manage to resist offering a second one as he nodded.

“Okay. I’ll put my things away while the bartender sets up.”

Ariel: "Yep. Want some water? Got bottles in the fridge." In case Rohan didn't want to socialize with the temporary help.

In the meantime, he was fingering through his formal selection in the closet. Nothing but polos and a handful of button-downs.

Rohan: “I’ll go down and get one when I’m done.” Rohan didn’t mind socializing. He would’ve felt a lot more nervous about being here if he did.

He opened his bag and started getting his things out. “Can’t decide what to wear?”

Ariel: "Not really." A purple button-down and a navy blue polo were pulled to examine.

Rohan: “I’d go with a button-down over a polo personally.”

Ariel: "Says the man wearing... What is that?" he chuckled. "Flannel? Really don't like suits, huh?"

Rohan: “Just cotton. Would I have been able to peel you off of me if I’d worn a suit, Mr. DJ?”

Ariel: "Nah. Barely peeling me off now," he grinned.

"Guess I like my polos." But he was putting it back. Pulling his sleeveless over head and tossing past the door.

First, some cologne, then he'd dress.

"Nervous?"

Rohan: “Exactly,” Rohan chuckled. “It was a matter of practicality and the fact that I don’t normally wear suits.”

He shook his head. “Not really, no. I’m sure I’ll get along fine with your friends.”

Ariel: Maybe he'd have him back in a suit before he was out the door again. If only for the pleasure of removing himself.

"Wanna pre-game? Or you want, uh, a briefing? Like... Some names and shit?"

Rohan: Rohan nodded and said, “Yes, please. To the briefing. Is it mostly people you know through work?”

Ariel: "Work, play," he laughed, "gym."

But his smile was stuck a moment, staring at the ground before looking up.

"How... are you gonna feel if someone I've slept with shows up?"

Rohan: “I’m not going to make a scene if that’s what worries you.” He shrugged and gave Ariel a patient smile. “Lots of people stay friends with their exes. It’s not a big deal.”

Ariel: "I didn't think you'd - no. Just if you don't want em there. Don't wanna meet anyone."

His patient smile was met with something almost apologetic.

"Some don't know. Just... don't freak out if I bring someone upstairs. That's gonna be me talking it out."

The fact that he said some only just hit him.

"What I did before, I don't wanna bring it into us. That make sense?"

Rohan: Whether it was some or only one didn’t really make a difference to Rohan. Everyone had a past, and he wasn’t about to begrudge or judge Ariel for his.

He nodded and took one of Ariel’s hand to bring to his lips.

“It does. You don’t have to feel bad about it, Ariel. I don’t mind meeting them or anyone else you’ve invited tonight. They’re your friends, they’re a part of your life.”

Ariel: "The day something really bothers you... " He shook his head, worry and humor behind his eyes. The idea was taken seriously, but not strongly enough to dampen the mood. It was a promise of appreciation.

"Some names... okay, so, Collier and Collin, step-brothers, sound tech guys. You're gonna mix up their names but not their faces. When you know, you know. Bringing their girlfriends I think. There's Solo, Harry, Konan, Matteo, Alexi, Diego - um... do you... do you wanna know the exes names?" The word had a very loose interpretation here.

Rohan: Rohan filed the list of names away to put faces to them later. The stepbrothers immediately stood out, solely because the notion of two people not blood related but having similar names and then becoming related piqued his interest.

He gave Ariel an encouraging nod. “Go ahead.”

Ariel: Ariel had never been one for shame, but Rohan wasn't a fuck buddy, nor a friend with benefits; it was his status that gave him pause.

The only way forward was with honesty. Whether it was true or not, it was how he wanted to proceed.

"I've fucked... Solo, Matteo, and Diego. Alexi's kissed me, but we were drunk and she's never brought it up, but that happened."

Rohan: Ariel’s honesty was rewarded with another kiss to his hand, followed by a whisper-soft one to his lips.

He felt no jealousy or upset because he had no reason to. His relationship with Ariel was separate from Ariel’s past and from his own and besides, there was no shame in simply having lived. Who was he—or anyone—to judge his boyfriend for having sex and being human?

“Okay,” he said with a nod. “Thank you for telling me.”

Ariel: "You're really cool with everything?" Just had to pause and bring Rohan back into his arms.

Rohan: He wrapped his arms around Ariel’s waist and nodded. “I am, I promise. I don’t mind meeting them and I have no intention of being rude to them.”

Ariel: "I didn't think you would be, baby. If anyone treats you like shit, a bad look, you'll tell me?"

Rohan: “I’ll tell you if I get treated poorly. I can forgive a nasty look or two.” He nuzzled Ariel’s cheek. “I’d also kick myself if I let you go.”

Ariel: Forgive him for not catching that. "What?" he smiled, nuzzling in.

Rohan: “If I were a pettier man and I was dumb enough to let you go, I’d probably also give your new boyfriend a nasty look if I happened to meet him.”

Ariel: That took him a moment, call it hunger or stupidity, but when it dawned on him, it showed. A gentle scoff and a shake of his head.

"Shut up," was immediately followed by a sweet kiss.

Rohan: Rohan laughed. Had he succeeded in breaking the tension Ariel was feeling? Probably not, but hopefully he’d at least given him a second or two of reprieve.

“Finish getting ready, I’m going to go downstairs.”

Ariel: Again, letting Rohan slip from his fingers before turning away to finish.

The bartender only glanced his way, stacking hexagonal disposable cups on the kitchen counter.

"You want Soju or a cocktail?"

Rohan: He greeted the bartender with a nod and a smile that very nearly faltered at the mention of soju.

“Cocktail please. I’d rather not have to be peeled off the ceiling today.”

Ariel: "Classy Daiqi, Dark n'Stormy, or Cuba Libre?"

Rohan: “Dark and stormy.”

Ariel: Yet another nod, and a bottle of dark rum was flipped from the table to his hand. Rum and Soju was the theme tonight. Birthday boy's choice. Soon to join downstairs with freshly tousled hair, hands smoothing over his half-tucked button-down.

"Getting started?"

Rohan: “I am,” he said, smiling again at the sight of his boyfriend. Looking at Ariel was so much better than reliving his last experience in a Seoul bar with Abel and Ramsay while he watched the bartender mix his drink.

“You look amazing.”

Ariel: "You picked the shirt." Zero hesitation in kissing his neck in front of the bartender.

Rohan's order was placed on the table just as a knock hammered on the door. Ariel snatched the remote to change the music as he opened the door. A man in clear glasses shouted a greeting, grabbing Ariel by the shoulders into a hug. The woman beside him laughed, pushing both men out of the way to squeeze through.

Her smile faltered only a split second at the new face, adjusting her sequined shirt as she sized him up, turning back to the pair at the door.

"Got started without us?"

"We just got started. I don't even have a drink. Uh," Ariel gestured to Rohan, "Guys, this is Rohan." He pointed to each one. "Matteo and Alexi."

"Sup, man?"

Rohan: “Looks like I made the right choice,” he said, looking mighty pleased with himself as he accepted the affection. And the drink, with another nod of thanks.

The smile on Rohan’s face at this first pair of arrivals was friendly and polite, though lacking in the warmth that Ariel would’ve become accustomed to. It wasn’t out of hostility, however. Merely unfamiliarity.

Rohan greeted Alexi and Matteo with a nod reminiscent of Xavier Atlas. “Nice to meet you both.”

Ariel: That nod made Ariel blink, but no eyes were upon him to notice. Before he could close the door, a pair of shoulders as wide as the frame blotted the hallway light. Slaps were exchanged to shoulders as the towering figure stepped in, taking the remote from Ariel's hand.

"He find you out in West Virginia?" Matteo teased, offering the only hand he would receive tonight.

Rohan: Rohan took the offered hand and shook, suddenly reminded of a business associate of Xavier’s that was rather trying to deal with. It was something about Matteo’s voice.

“I found him actually,” he said perfectly pleasantly, sipping his drink.

Ariel: "Huh." He had a few things to say, but Collin had pulled him into a playful slap and shove, shaking his thorns loose.

"Sup?" Came the newest greeting from a baritone with a smile.

Rohan: He immediately liked this man more than Matteo, and his answering smile reflected it.

“Hey. I’m Rohan.”

Ariel: "Collin." And Collier wasn't far behind. Ariel's words would make sense seeing the two side-by-side. One dark complexion, one Gothically pale. Collin was monstrously broad; Collier no larger than Rohan.

Baby brother's smile accentuated his many facial piercings. His sharp blue eyes were a complete contrast to the nearly black depth of Collin's. Collier only gave a nod, saying nothing.

"This here's Collier, my bro."

Rohan: Ah, now he understood what Ariel had meant. The two brothers couldn’t have more different if they’d tried, which only made the similarity of their names more fascinating.

“Hello,” Rohan said to Collier, returning his nod. Some of the warmth was returning to his demeanor but so far, it was only for these two brothers.

Ariel: Alexi and Matteo were busy with the bartender, talking amongst themselves and keeping Ariel's attention. That had been the plan all along since hearing the news of some boyfriend. Not spoken aloud, of course, not even to each other. An unspoken rule; no one in their group pined for marriage. That nuclear family bullshit wasn't on anyone's radar.

"So, what do you do?" Collin asked.

Rohan: Rohan thought nothing of being ignored. It was natural for Ariel’s friends to prefer his company and regardless of how they felt about Rohan, he was the one that would still be by Ariel’s side at the end of the night.

The petty part of him felt just a little bit smug about that.

“I manage operations for a shipping and import company. Not terribly exciting but I get to travel a lot. And you?”

Ariel: "We're audio engineers. Got our own company. Don't think you'll need our card," he laughed.

Collier simply smiled and turned his attention to the bartender, still not saying a word, only to turn back a second later and offer that very card.

Another knock on the door. Alexi was quick to open. More and more began trickling in. Ariel wouldn't be back in his arms for some time, but others were migrating throughout the house, and giving their greeting nods to the new face.

Rohan: Rohan took the card and offered his own. You never knew when you were going to require the expertise of an audio engineer or, on the flip side, when you were going to need to ship something discreetly.

Although he wasn’t usually one for parties, Rohan was having a nice time talking and drinking with whoever showed interest in interacting with him. If he did get any nasty looks, they would be met with either a neutral smile or ignored altogether.

Ariel: The majority of unsavory looks came from the original duo, but they were not the only ones, and of the fifteen Ariel had expected, ten more slipped in and out of the apartment. Some disappearing for the rooftop lounge, others migrating upstairs to the bathroom and sitting on the bed. Nothing that gave Ariel pause, until a man as pale as his shirt leaned into his arm, whispering in his ear words that caused a shiver, shaking his refusal.

It was Collin and Collier that kept Rohan's company. The one named Harry stuck out like a sore thumb, looking every bit as country as the name Spokane. He pushed up his glasses and talked just a little too loudly, nearly cheek-to-cheek to be heard over the music, wanting to know Rohan's entire life story.

Rohan: Country was comfortable for Rohan. He could relate to country. So of course he was happy to regale Harry and the brothers with stories of growing up in Romania and Washington and whatever else they wanted to know that he felt safe sharing. He had stories for days and he was sure they did as well.

The good conversation and pleasant company and the warmth that had returned to his demeanor as a result were the best shield against the nastiness coming from those who were making their disapproval of him known. Misery loved company but it wasn’t going to come from him. He was far too old to play that game.

Ariel: Harry hung on to every word. An unlit cigarette brought to his lips and forgotten. He could hardly relate to Goth Collier and Athlete Collin, but he knew Washington better than any stranger in this room, and could trade stories of fishing and how the hell he had ended up in New York. A familiar story to Ariel. Following romantic obligations and learning to live with the consequences.

"This is, like, my only day off. In eight hours I'm back out there saving idiots from themselves."

"Where's Cheryl?" Collin asked.

Harry shrugged. "Overtime."

"Divorce rate with first responders is like seventy-five percent," Collier muttered.

"Thanks for that," Harry smiled.

Ariel gave Rohan's little group a passing glance and a passive smile, making his way upstairs with the man in the pale shirt.

Rohan: Times like these made Rohan more grateful than ever that he worked for someone like Xavier. He couldn’t imagine having a single day off a week, and in such a demanding line of work at that.

Rohan sipped his drink and smiled. “It’s tempting to say that your day off would be better spent resting but we all need to unwind. Living in cities makes it hard to get any peace.”

As calm as Rohan appeared on the outside, it was a battle internally. It was hard not to follow Ariel’s ascent with his gaze or feel an anxious pull in his gut at seeing him accompanied but Rohan had chosen to trust his boyfriend. He did trust his boyfriend.

Ariel: "Maybe I'll chill after the wedding."

Collier opened his mouth, only to be elbowed by Collin without Harry's notice.

"So we gonna get the story about you two?" Harry turned around in time. Collier excused himself for another drink.

Rohan: Bless Harry and the distraction he offered.

“There’s not much of one to tell.” And yet, there was no hiding his smile. “I happened to be here on a business trip and walked into the right club at the right time. A mutual acquaintance introduced us.”

Ariel: "Sounds better than mine," Harry scoffed.

Collin echoed the sound, staring down at his drink. The air between them thickened, before Collin's inhale broke the relative silence.

"Collier took too much shit. Guess who showed up," he pointed at Harry.

"Kept getting Cheryl, all sorta worked out."

Rohan: Well now Rohan was wondering how the two of them had met their partners that made his own mundane meeting with Ariel seem so much better by comparison. And just why it had caused an energy shift in their group.

He sipped his drink. “As long as you fall into a rhythm you’re comfortable with, it doesn’t really matter how things begin.”

Ariel: "If it starts with a bang, it's gotta end with a bang," Collin nodded.

"If it starts in the club it'll probably end in it," said Collier, fresh drink in hand.

"I don't think you've ever said anything positive," Harry realized.

Rohan: What was that quote about the universe starting with a bang and ending with a whimper? It was suddenly very present in Rohan’s mind, but voicing that particular thought aloud would bring the conversation and indeed the jovial atmosphere to a grinding halt.

“Spending time thinking about how things might end doesn’t do much to let you enjoy the present. There are already enough things that do that in life.”

Rohan smiled at Harry. “Better to take a page out of Harry’s book and have a good time in the moments you can.”

Ariel: Collier didn't need any assistance grinding the gears of this conversation. Collin loved him out of obligation and Harry out of kindness. The only one among them that didn't have to tolerate his presence was the one smiling at Harry.

Ariel could be seen from their private circle by the window. His back was against the wall. Face forward, but his gaze was restless. His shoes, the neighboring wall, the women standing by the bathroom door. Their conversation teetered on fervid.

The man in front of him didn't move. A statue with a curved, slow speak mouth. Eyes locked and shoulders forward, lowered to match Ariel's height. It was only an inch, but enough to wane a man's confidence.

Rohan: Try as he might, Rohan couldn’t keep his gaze from drifting to the loft. Tonight was a test of many things, and currently chief among them were his resolve, faith, and the patience he’d nurtured in the six decades he’d been on this earth.

He did not like the look of the man talking to Ariel, would have very much liked to stop that man from talking to Ariel, but Ariel had asked for Rohan’s trust. He wasn’t going to make a scene because one, Rohan simply wasn’t the type of person to do that, and two, because doing so would spoil his boyfriend’s birthday party.

So all Rohan could do was maintain his iron grip on every bit of serenity he possessed and believe in Ariel’s ability to handle and take care of himself. But damn if it wasn’t difficult.

Ariel: Ariel was trying his best. Diego was a force to be reckoned with. When Ariel lowered himself, it was to be heard in a crowd. An excuse to be closer to the warmth of Rohan's skin, and the hope of his touch. When Diego lowered his body, it was to remind Ariel of his stature. A year ago it had turned him on. Swallowed him from the inside out when Diego brought himself to his level, graced him with a playful bite, and shoved him into bed. His presence, his strength, his dark gaze, were all intoxicating.

Or they had been. Now his skin crawled, and he was ashamed of the heat between his legs. He couldn't help his body's reaction. Mind and flesh contradicting each other.

"You're gonna go play house? And then what?" were words that echoed in Ariel's ear. "There's nothing he can do to you that I haven't already done."

The ghoul visibly shivered.

"Nothing wrong with wanting love."

"I love you every time I fuck you." One hand against the wall, beside Ariel's head. And then another to lock him in. But Ariel was quick to place his hand on Diego's chest.

"Don't do this."

Rohan: It was never a good sign when Rohan began envying Xavier his demonic abilities. What he wouldn’t give to be able to pin that man to the ceiling or to simply yank him across the room. Or off the face the earth.

But he wasn’t Xavier, and if some part of Rohan did want to do those things, it was simply anxiety talking. He knew himself well enough to recognize that.

That being said, being a mature adult didn’t mean he couldn’t imagine doing those things while he tried, probably uselessly, to catch his boyfriend’s gaze. But if he managed to?

He’d offer all the warmth and silent encouragement he could from across this apartment.

Ariel: Diego dripped honeyed words into his ear, but Ariel knew he was being tested. He could enjoy the temptation, the memories, but knew better than to lean forward into that heat.

The art of sexuality, sensuality, of God-given lust, none of himself had diminished. Only the concept of commitment had reared its head from the bog.

"There's the door if you don't like it," he managed, took a breath, and dipped under Diego's arm, retreating back downstairs.

Rohan: And just like that, Rohan’s self-worth and self-esteem lived to fight another day. Or, well. Another hour at least, if he was lucky.

If Rohan had been alone he would’ve let himself breathe out, but the current situation didn’t give him that luxury.

“I’m going to get myself another drink,” he told his companions, asking if they wanted anything before making his way over to the bar.

Ariel: Rohan's self-worth, but it was Ariel's integrity on the edge of a knife. Diego mingled with the ladies upstairs, joked and took his time. He had no intention to chase so obviously, but he wasn't done. Not by a longshot. He had no care for romantic prospects, but he was the one to walk away. Not the other way around.

Ariel was quick to wrap his arm around Rohan's waist, burying his face in his boyfriend's neck in greeting.

"Making friends?"

Rohan: Rohan was so in his head that he didn’t feel Ariel’s approach until he was embraced, startling just a bit before he realized who it was and smiled.

“I’d like to think so,” he said, turning to kiss Ariel’s head. “They’re very kind.” And Collier, Collin, and Harry also seemed to be the only people present aside from Ariel and the bartender who didn’t want to stab him in the eyes with a sharp stick. That helped.

“Hey.” Rohan lowered his voice so only Ariel could hear and said, “I know that wasn’t an easy conversation to have. I’m proud of you, my brave boy.”

Ariel: "What was that?" Ariel chuckled, kissing along his ear. "Yeah, they're good people." By they, he meant the very three Rohan had been glued to. The rest had their merits, but kind was debatable.

His low words forced his attention, turning to look Rohan in the eyes with a thick swallow. Being called his boy in public caught him off guard, but succeeded in warming his insides.

"It's a - yeah. Thanks."

Rohan: Rohan just barely managed not to grin. That was precisely the reaction he’d been hoping for. Although they were in public, this little moment was just for them.

“Are you enjoying your party?”

Ariel: "Yeah!" Despite Diego, everything was as it should be. Arguably Diego was as he should be, but he utter a word of his opinion.

"Want something else to drink?"

Rohan: “Good.” That was all that mattered. A few nasty looks and some anxiety didn’t matter as long as Ariel was having a good birthday. He deserved it.

Rohan nodded. “Mhmm. Came to get myself another dark and stormy and some water.”

Ariel: "Did you even eat today?" Just needed to be sure. A few people were walking around with bottles of Soju as though it were soda. Ariel was ready to join them, taking a strawberry for himself.

Rohan: God, it was like being in Seoul in the worst way. How anyone could willingly drink soju like it was nothing was completely beyond him.

“I did, don’t worry. Have you?”

Ariel: "I had yogurt, apple bacon doughnuts, aaannnd a hot dog from a cart."

Rohan: That was too far from a proper meal for Rohan’s liking.

“I was already planning on it, but now I’m definitely going to take you for a nice birthday meal.”

Ariel: "When, after the club?"

Rohan: Rohan shook his head. “Doesn’t have to be tonight, we can go tomorrow or whenever you like.”

Ariel: "We'll see how we feel in a little bit." A few more bottles of Soju and he'd want it sooner rather than later.

Rohan: “All right. In the meantime you can think about where you want to go or what you want to have.” He grinned. “And what kind of cake you want.”

Ariel: "You're gonna get me a cake?" Rohan was squeezed with both arms. "What kind you like?"

Rohan: “Of course I am.” He squeezed Ariel back and kissed his cheek. “It’s your birthday. You should always get cake on your birthday, whichever kind you want.”

Ariel: "Yeah, but I wanna know what you like."

Rohan: “I have a sweet tooth, I don’t think there’s any cake I don’t like. But if I had to pick a favorite?” Rohan hummed thoughtfully.

“I think…chocolate cake. With strawberries.”

Ariel: They could agree on berries, and chocolate was a staple. An image of their escapades in bed, the chocolate syrup, caused a blissful sigh.

"My turn to put chocolate on you," he said into his ear.

"When we get home."

Rohan: Rohan was taking his own little trip down memory lane. He’d be associating chocolate and strawberries with Ariel for as long as he lived, and that association was only going to get stronger.

He grinned and whispered back, “Whatever my good boy wants.”

Ariel: "I'd have you right here if I could."

A gentle nip to Rohan's ear was all he would dare. Leaning away to gulp down half of his Soju.

Rohan: “Your patience will be rewarded.” And so would Rohan’s. Knowing what was waiting for him when they returned would help him get through this party.

And seeing Ariel all flustered as he downed his drink? That helped too.

Ariel: The party was only getting louder. People were still in and out as though an every night occurrence. The drinks continued to flow, and the familiarity of Arie's friends began bordering on inappropriate. At least, it was Ariel's assumption of Rohan's perspective. Alexi loved her drinking games, and any excuse to have a mouth on her neck. Alas, no tequila, but clear rum was her substitute, and it wasn't long before Ariel's name was shouted, followed by a chorus, and without thinking, salt and lemon were licked away, before raising his hands in triumph.

"We're moving! Get outta my house!" he shouted.

Rohan: Rohan was no stranger to the familiarity that existed between friends, and so looked on in amusement as Ariel had fun with his. The knowledge of what was to come when they returned home was doing wonders for his confidence.

His only real concern was whether the man from earlier in the night continued to leave his boyfriend alone. Nothing he'd seen had indicated that Ariel's conversation with him had gone well, and nothing Rohan had observed about the man himself gave him a good feeling. But, as long as he kept his distance, Rohan was happy to continue enjoying himself and chatting with Harry and the brothers.

He never thought he'd be relieved to go to a club but tonight was an exception. He was actually looking forward to having a crowd of people between him and the death stares.

Ariel: It was too easy to lose Ariel in his element. The dark lights, strobes, and chest-pulsing baseline of bunker techno. Three bottles of Soju, shots of rum, and only one cup of water in his system. His arms were loose. His smile as plastered as he felt. More and more of his weight leaned on Rohan with every hug.

"You dance with me? Only me?"

Rohan: Although this would probably never be his environment, it was surprisingly easy to enjoy it when he was with Ariel. It was easy to be comfortable and let go when he was with Ariel.

As the night wore on, Rohan would find himself wondering more than once just what magic this man was working on him.

“Only with you,” he repeated, leaning in so very very close to be heard over the music. “But it’s going to cost you drinking some water, okay?”

Ariel: "Water?" Absolutely flabbergasted. Offended!

Rohan was pulled hip-to-hip, turning them towards the dance floor. Had to get his baby out in the middle of the crowd to show off.

"Soju has water in it!"

Rohan: “Yes, water,” Rohan laughed, letting himself be led. They could dance now but he wasn’t letting Ariel escape hydration.

“You need plain water, sweet boy. Drink some for me, okay?”

Ariel: "One dance?" His darling was given a spin. "Just one dance!" he sang.

Rohan: Rohan grinned and nodded. “One dance then water then another dance.”

Ariel: "Another?" He gasped, "Is it my birthday?"

Rohan: Why are you so cute, Rohan wondered, giving in to the impulse to kiss Ariel’s face.

“You can have as many dances as you want as long as we drink water in between, how does that sound?”

Ariel: "Done deal! Kiss on it!" Because he wanted another one. Because he knew he would be allowed the privilege. And because he was going to lean a little more into his boyfriend, just enough to rub his hardening cock against his thigh.

Rohan: Of course he would be. Ariel was Rohan’s boyfriend, and that afforded him as many kisses and as much contact as his heart desired. Because how could Rohan ever resist him? If the power to do so existed, a mere man like him did not possess it.

“Don’t be naughty,” he said into Ariel’s ear, forcing himself to take a deep breath. “Naughty boys don’t get rewards.”

Ariel: "Naughty boys? I wanna be a nasty boy." And he'd start by grabbing Rohan's ass then and there. He heard that breath, felt it like a pulse through his entire body.

"We're gonna dance, then we're gonna fuck."

Rohan: Ariel was nearly impossible to resist but Rohan was a determined man. He’d give in just enough, would let Ariel touch just enough, would kiss him just enough.

They were still out in public, after all, however shielded they might be in a crowd.

The only thing he’d indulge freely were all the dances he’d promised. That’s all Ariel was getting until they made it home.

Ariel: No one in January Embers cared. Some were quietly envious, longing for someone to look at them the way Ariel looked at Rohan. For hands like those, if not those specifically, on their body.

And he was aware of that. Aware Diego wasn't too far out of reach, and wasn't at all surprised when he slipped effortlessly behind the witch. His hips were professional grade and it showed. Ariel only slowed a little when Diego brought his arms under Rohan's, encouraging them to the ceiling.

Rohan: Absolutely not. The restraint Rohan had showed earlier in the evening had been in deference to the time and the place. There was no way he was going to make a scene in Ariel’s apartment and spoil his birthday.

Here it was different. There was no enclosed atmosphere to be conscious of. They were in public, in a crowd, and bathed in noise.

Rohan’s courtesy—and patience—extended only so far as to ignore the seagull of a man at his back while smiling at Ariel and deftly guiding him away and toward the bar.

“Time to hold up your end of the deal,” he said to his boyfriend. If Diego made a move to touch Ariel or stop them, he would find himself blocked by Rohan.

Ariel: For a moment Ariel was confused, looking back at Diego was certainly the wrong idea, but he was drunk and curious, and more than a little flabbergasted. In his haze, it was just a dance, and suddenly his boyfriend had become a guard dog.

"What was that for?"

Rohan: “I’m thirsty,” Rohan said simply, giving his boyfriend the same affectionate smile he had been all evening. The only thing that remained the same between the club and the apartment was that all of Rohan’s warmth was only for Ariel.

“And someone promised me they’d drink water.”

Ariel: "I did, yeah." But his tone gave away his thoughts, and then his brow, and then squeezing Rohan's fingers.

"Baby, it was just dancing."

Rohan: Rohan brought those fingers to his lips and kissed them. “I’ll only dance with you, sweet boy. No one else.”

Ariel: "Oh." Rohan would see those plastered eyes processing. Should he be offended or honored? He chose honor, and would drink his water without further complaints.

Rohan: Rohan got himself a water as well. He wasn’t really that thirsty but maybe it would help settle him.

Was he overreacting to the seagull and what may very well have been just a dance? Possibly, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about putting some distance between him and Ariel. Or to believe it was just a dance for that matter.

Even if he hadn’t been privy to the conversation, Rohan had seen himself how intimidating Diego had been when Ariel had spoken to him.

But that was as much as Rohan was willing to think about the seagull. Tonight was for and about Ariel.

“Feel better?” he asked his DJ.

Ariel: Oblivious as he was to many things, there was a dodging look in Rohan's eyes he couldn't shake. Something was wrong but he couldn't - or wouldn't - pin that look on anything specific.

"I always feel good with you." He laughed at himself, shaking his head with embarrassment.

"I mean, yeah."

Rohan: Embarrassed or not, Rohan’s smile when he heard those words was blinding. He was going to take them and keep him close to his chest.

“I’m glad,” he said. “I want my boyfriend to feel good when he’s with me.”

Rohan took a deep breath and felt the last of his tension ease away. “Another dance?”

Ariel: "You really just say everything, don't you?" He wanted some rum to chase the water away, but had a distinct feeling Rohan would take the glass right out of his hand.

"Yeah."

Rohan: “There are some things you just can’t keep inside.” Although Rohan’s smile was lighthearted, his eyes were as sincere as his feelings, which were rapidly growing day by day.

It was still too soon, but he hoped he’d be able to say them aloud someday.

He held his hand out to Ariel. “Let’s go,” he said, leading his boyfriend back onto the dance floor as promised.

Ariel: "Okay!" he sang, squeezing Rohan's hand and following behind. So in his own bliss, not a single gaze was noticed. Not of ex-lovers, not of the vampire across the room. Not of the ghoul at the bar cleaning glasses. In his own little world that revolved around his boyfriend. What a fucking word! What a great word.

"I'm so fucking horny."

Rohan: Ariel could lose himself as much as he liked. Rohan was sober and aware enough for both of them, while also feeling uninhibited enough to dance with his boyfriend without worrying about anyone else.

Rohan laughed and pulled Ariel close, nuzzling his neck. “Just say the word and we’ll go back to your apartment, my good boy.”

Ariel: "Why do you call me that? What I do?" Both arms hugged around Rohan's waist, nuzzling back with none of a care in the world. "I'm not a good boy! I'm so bad."

Rohan: Rohan chuckled. “Well since it’s your birthday, you can be whatever kind of boy you want.” He just couldn’t resist a kiss to Ariel’s neck.

“But good or bad, you’re all mine.”

Ariel: "Just yours?" His hands were roaming again, further and further south, on an obvious and eager path for Rohan's ass.

Rohan: “Just mine.” Ariel’s hands could reach their intended destination but only there. They were hidden enough in the crowd for it not to be immediately noticeable just how close they were but if those hands tried to move anywhere else, Rohan was taking them between his own.

“I’m going to eat you up kiss by kiss, just you wait.”

Ariel: Intended destination was squeezed by all ten fingers. Lips greeted Rohan's neck, sliding down to his shoulder for a playful bite. That small audience? Didn't exist. Collier raising his phone for a selfie, right in their path? A complete stranger.

"I forgot! We gotta talk about something when we get home, don't we? Like, am I supposed to be mad at you?"

Rohan: “Hmm?” The question snapped him out of it, and good thing too. However good this felt, they were still in public and he’d almost been tempted to give in a whole lot more than he already had.

“Mad at me? Have I done something that upset you?”

Ariel: "Did you have your Dracula talk to my Lucy?"

Rohan: Rohan frowned. Dracula? Oh, of course. He’d forgotten that was Ariel’s nickname for Xavier.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I had no idea he was planning to until he came and told me that he’d talked to her.”

Ariel: "They didn't even ask me. Like," a step back was needed to rub his face, "what the fuck, yo!"

Rohan: He ran his hands comfortingly down Ariel’s arms.

“Let’s talk about it when we get home. I don’t think this is the best place for a conversation like this.”

Ariel: Ariel stared into space a moment, nodded. "Kay. Let's go home." Taking Rohan by the hand, he began leading them straight to the exit.

A hand was waved to the bar.

"He's - He's got my tab don't worry about it."

Rohan: This wasn’t a topic he planned to broach on Ariel’s birthday but since his boyfriend had brought it up himself, it couldn’t he helped.

“All right,” he said, trying to catch the bartender’s attention to give him a nod of thanks. “I’ll get us a cab.”

Ariel: "A cab!" he laughed, hugging Rohan from behind as they walked. "You're so old school. I love it. You know I love it?"

Rohan: With Ariel at his back, Rohan didn’t have to try to school his expression too much. Old school…

If only he knew.

“Do you?” he said, brushing it off and resting his hands over his boyfriend’s. “I’m glad. Let’s go home.”

Ariel: They would wait for a cab, rather than an Uber, and Ariel was just tickled to see the iconic yellow car roll up to their street. Despite his sudden questions, he was in good spirits, and the same affection given in the club was given in the back of their ride, nuzzling and kissing along Rohan's neck until reaching their block.

Rohan: Rather than think about things that didn’t matter and let his own fears flood his thinking, Rohan chose to focus on Ariel instead. His presence, his affection, which would be reined in as much as could he managed until they reached their destination.

The cab driver—who’d probably seen worse—wasn’t paying them a bit of mine but even so.

He paid the man, tipped him, and then led his boyfriend up to the apartment.

Ariel: Up and up to the seventh floor, using every ounce of his concentration to open the door, only to lift Rohan bridal style to carry inside. The apartment smelled of the remnants of people. Alcohol and colognes of various price, a faint odor of cannabis beneath it all.

Rohan: If he hadn’t been paying such close attention to Ariel’s movements, the lift would’ve caught Rohan by surprise. Since it hadn’t, Ariel would be rewarded with a laugh instead of a yelp.

“Is the impatience finally winning?”

Ariel: "What impatience? For sex? Yes! Get naked!" he laughed.

Rohan: “Mm, I think my boyfriend’s going to have to help me with that. I’m currently indisposed.”

Ariel: "In-dis-posed," he sang, standing there in the middle of the living room, bumping foreheads with the witch, smiling like a loon.

"Want me to put you down?"

Rohan: Rohan grinned and wrapped his arms around Ariel's neck. "Only if you want to. I'm perfectly happy where I am."

Ariel: "I can sleep standing up. I'll hold you all night. We could fuck this way."

Rohan: “Mhmm, we could.” Rohan leaned in to kiss Ariel’s neck. “Awfully hard to eat chocolate off of me in this position though. And I seem to remember someone saying that he wanted to.”

Ariel: Lips eagerly parted in a silent gasp. Up the stairs they went. Their not-truly-an-argument argument could wait indefinitely, or at the very least until sober.

"I gotta put you down to go get it. But I wanna put you on the bed so that's - what's what I'm gonna do."

Rohan: Rohan nodded and continued kissing Ariel’s neck. “That’s just fine by me,” he murmured into his boyfriend’s ear, nuzzling the side of his face.

He’d just make himself comfortable while Ariel went back downstairs. Maybe he’d even be waiting for him shirtless.

Ariel: Rohan could count the seconds until his return. A bottle of chocolate syrup in hand, the same bottle purchased in August, wearing nothing but boxer briefs and a smile.

"Ta da!"

Rohan: Apparently they’d been of a similar mind, although Rohan still had his pants on. He’d considered removing them but figured Ariel should have the pleasure of unwrapping something for his birthday.

Rohan grinned and held his arms out for his boyfriend to join him on the bed.

“Get over here.”

Ariel: Their dessert was placed on a pillow to be momentarily forgotten. Rohan was pushed flat on the mattress, straddled and admired.

"Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me," he sang, laughed. "You're the best thing ever."

Rohan: Rohan laughed with him, smiling up at his boyfriend as he wrapped his arms around his neck.

“That’s the alcohol talking,” he whispered, pulling Ariel down for a kiss.

Ariel: "Mm-mm." He kissed and kissed again. "You're the best. Thing. Ever."

Rohan: “Well if you insist.” He’d let the birthday boy have his way and Rohan would even tell himself that he believed it too, even if he didn’t.

“How do you want me, Mr. DJ?”

Ariel: "How abouuuut like a pop-pop-popsicle? Like them chocolate ones we got as kids."

Rohan: Rohan grinned. “You’re going to have to finish undressing me before you have your way with me.”

Ariel: "That's the best part." He nuzzled his way down, kissing Rohan's stomach and hips. Teeth nipped at his trousers before undoing them, pulling everything away at once.

Rohan: Rohan’s heartbeat quickened in anticipation as he watched Ariel make his way down Rohan’s body. This man was such a beautiful sight. Was it any wonder that he’d been unable to resist him?

He obligingly lifted his hips as he was undressed, stretching for his boyfriend’s viewing pleasure before reaching for him again. Rohan was positively starved for his kisses.

Ariel: He would be denied only for the count of three. Staring down at his boyfriend as though he were his birthday present. In a way, he would argue he was.

"You're so... everything." Not his most poetic, but he had an excuse, and he didn't care. Rohan could have what he wanted, offering his mouth and tongue simultaneously.

Rohan: Pretty words weren't needed when simpler ones conveyed one's feelings with sincerity. Rohan didn't care if Ariel was a poet, he just wanted Ariel to be present, to be in his arms, to be kissing him. He wanted to touch him, to feel his boyfriend's weight on top of him, his heat, his voice.

"I want all of you," he whispered unintentionally, trailing wet kisses down Ariel's neck.

Ariel: He was supposed to do something with chocolate. Supposed to have Rohan twelve ways to Sunday, but all he could give in that moment were lazy, barely-there kisses.

Almost. He almost said it. He wanted to. Too soon. It was too dangerous. But he was drunk. Could he get away with that as an excuse? No. It had to be meaningful, and as beautiful as the man he cradled.

"Mmmm you," he said instead, letting his thoughts slip from his tongue.

Rohan: The chocolate was all but forgotten, probably because his own sweet tooth wasn’t the one that was going to be indulged. Or, more likely, because Ariel was just that intoxicating.

“Hmm?” Rohan was too distracted by his current journey across one of Ariel’s shoulders to parse what he’d said for meaning. And of course the other shoulder needed kisses, too.

Ariel: Ariel realized he had found a loophole in the social mores. His eyes alight, he said it again. "Mmmm you," he laughed, not expecting Rohan to understand. He didn't mind. It would be his private joke.

"Hey." He stole a kiss. "I'm gonna go down on you."

Rohan: It was just as well that Ariel didn’t expect Rohan to understand because Rohan didn’t. His mind was elsewhere.

Or rather, the mind between his legs was currently in charge.

He nodded and smiled up at this boyfriend, taking possession of one of Ariel’s arms and kissing it since he was losing Ariel’s lips.

Ariel: Ariel felt Rohan's need for his lips and leaned up to offer one final kiss. He didn't know where that impulse came from. His own thought, he assumed, and pushed it on Rohan as a greedy excuse, all the while cupping and rolling his palm between his boyfriend's legs.

Rohan: Rohan’s eyes fell closed on a soft moan as Ariel gave his hardening shaft some friction. It definitely wasn’t just Ariel’s own thoughts; Rohan did need his lips, and took the kiss more than gladly.

He didn’t know why he suddenly felt so insatiable, only that he did. It scarcely mattered whether it was kisses or touch, he just wanted more.

Ariel: At last, he blindly reached for the bottle. Drunk off his ass and still hungry for one more thrill.

He forced himself on his knees and grinned. How much of a mess did he really want to make?

"Want some?" He tapped the tip against his chest.

Rohan: Oh, Ariel knew exactly how to get him.

“You know I do,” he said, sitting up with a matching grin. Apparently his sweet tooth would be indulged tonight after all.

Ariel: "We're gonna be sticky and gross," he laughed, almost light enough to be a giggle.

"Where you want? Hmm?" He did a little dance with his shoulders. "I know where." He tapped again, this time on his nipple.

Rohan: “We can shower together later.” Rohan seemed to recall that Ariel really enjoyed that part of their sticky sweet fun the last time.

He laughed softly and kissed Ariel’s sternum, just because he could. “My boyfriend knows me so well. Are you putting on the chocolate or am I?”

Ariel: "I put on you, you put - you put on me. Deal?" He danced some more, anticipation!

Rohan: Rohan took the bottle of chocolate sauce. “Deal.”

Ariel wouldn’t have to simmer in his anticipation for very long because most of Rohan’s patience seemed to have evaporated into thin air. He had just enough left to let the chocolate drip slowly over Ariel’s right nipple to avoid a mess and to admire the sight of it for a second or two before he was laving his tongue over it.

Ariel: Ariel had his own intentions, but they could wait. Having Rohan's mouth on his skin was just as good. Selfishly good. His smile was lunacy. The still open bottle nearly slipped from his grasp. His words, "Fuck me," nothing but a breathy expletive.

Rohan: Could it really be called selfish when Rohan was enjoying it just as much as Ariel was?

When the first nipple was clean and had been thoroughly loved, he kissed his way over to the other one and repeated the process. He could’ve gone on like this for ages but his whims had been indulged enough. As the birthday boy, Ariel was the one who deserved to be as self-indulgent as he wanted today.

Whatever he wanted of Rohan, Rohan would give him.

Ariel: Though he was meant to be the one lapping up the chocolate, he found himself not caring. Already hard, his body reveled in the attention. Sticky wasn't so unwelcome with Rohan's tongue doing the cleaning.

"Kiss me," he said, already pulling him to his mouth.

Rohan: Rohan wrapped his arms around Ariel and laid back on the bed, bringing his DJ with him. Ariel would be able to taste the lingering sweetness of the chocolate on Rohan’s tongue as he kissed him while warm, wandering hands caressed his skin and kneaded muscle.

He would never stop feeling grateful that this man was his. Would never stop wanting him and wanting to be wanted by him. More and more often lately it felt like the declaration on the tip of his tongue would come out at any moment but it still didn’t feel like it was the right time. So rather than say it, Rohan poured it into his kiss and hoped that Ariel could feel it even if Rohan still wasn’t brave enough to say it.

Ariel: In his intoxicated state, Ariel could fantasize why their kiss was so passionate. He could pretend he was the best thing Rohan had ever experienced, because it was what he felt. Had to be the drinks. He'd had more than his share, and knew it was because of the vampiric blood in his system that kept him conscious.

He didn't say anything. Riding the momentum, his kisses traveled southbound, leaving a sticky wet trail along the way.

Rohan: Someday, hopefully someday soon, Ariel would be able to do more than fantasize. He’d know exactly why Rohan’s kiss was so intense and could be secure in the knowledge that he was the very best thing Rohan had ever experienced.

Until that day came, they could say anything they needed to with their hands and their lips.

Ariel was already doing a phenomenal job. The shivers he was giving Rohan had nothing to do with the cool air hitting his wet skin and everything to do with pure anticipation.

His fingers found Ariel’s hair and buried there, still feeling needy for contact.

Ariel: Ariel looked up at his boyfriend and sucked his middle finger. He expected Rohan to know what would happen next.

Two things at once. Chocolate dropped on the tip of his cock while a finger demanded entry. Wanting everything at once could have made a mess of the sheets, his boyfriend, and his dexterity, but if he could just narrow it to two.

"I wanna fuck you already," he mumbled, swiping his wide tongue over Rohan's length.

Rohan: Rohan did, and there was a smile on his face as he gasped at the cool chocolate running down his shaft and moaned at the warmth of Ariel’s tongue licking it away. His body hadn’t been tense but the distraction helped regardless; it all but welcomed Ariel’s finger in.

“Well then what are you waiting for?” he said, letting his legs fall open just a little wider for his boyfriend.

Ariel: Ariel nearly stopped breathing, watching those legs, mouth agape. Utterly astounded that this man was now his, in the only way one could meaningfully possess another. Willingly, lovingly. That word again. He smiled just to do something other than gawk.

"I'm still playin'," he grinned.

Rohan: Rohan could only laugh at Ariel’s expression. It was a slightly breathless delighted sound, full of fondness for the man between his legs.

“You have all night to play with me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Ariel: His finger curled within Rohan's warmth. Watching him intently as he played with the tip of his cock with his wide flat tongue. The deeper his finger explored, the more of his length he swallowed. Yes, they had all night for him to play, but did Rohan realize his stamina yet, was the question.

Rohan: Rohan knew full well he was probably biting off more than he could chew with that little invitation but the desire to indulge and be indulged by Ariel was just too strong to resist. And besides, it was his boyfriend's birthday; why not wear themselves out in the name of celebration?

Rohan's body was more than receptive to the idea, and it let Ariel know with every tremble, muscle twitch, and jerk of his hips, all backed by a chorus of gasps and soft moans.

Ariel: Indulgence, hedonism, gluttony; Ariel had sins upon sins, and still a cross hung over his neck. Here was his newest obsession, one he promised to respect as one should a precious gift. Respect by spoiling, loving, fucking.

But first, his mouth. Still savoring the taste of his skin, precum, and chocolate. Only on the brink of his patience and sanity did he find the wit to wrap himself in a condom, to press every inch of himself in the warmth of his body and melt in his embrace. A thank you implied with every kiss. He was a teenager again, fluttering and stuttering, driven by instinct, nearly forgetting tact and stamina in his drunken primal need for satisfaction.

[rumor-weed]

Anything more on Stephan or this 'Cassidy'?

“Boy, I know ya asked this nine years ago, but we didn’t really have an answer ‘til now. Looks like Stephan - er, was it Stefan? Never knew how to spell that pronunciation - might’ve been disappeared by a few guilty vegetables who all seem to be claimin’ THEY did it. Maybe they all did. Maybe nobody did. How come they all got alibis for why they couldn’t have done it, but they’re all swearin’ they did? Stephan’s gone, though. We haven’t seen the prince in ages - rumor has it he wasn’t even a prince, Anon. Maybe he was just some rich kid pullin’ some weird of sort of prank, one of those scam ‘fake prince’ emails that found someone who took the bait. Could be. That’s just a theory. A Rumor Theory.”

Audrey paused and considered the next name.

“Cassidy… ah! The child Archibald adopted without really askin’ his wife first, huh? That’s a good question, Anon! But uh… well, I don’t think we ever got answers. Sometimes I wonder if she was even real. The twins sure weren’t! But we all thought we saw them, right? Weird. But Cassidy… well, I liked her fine, I guess. I’d hope, if she was real, she’s just grown up, unlike the rest of us, and escaped to somewhere safer. Something weird about this town. Water that makes ya never age? Vampires? Serial killers? Paparazzi for a mildly popular but dyin’ kids show? It just doesn’t add up. And now Archibald is back. He’s back, Anon, and I don’t know what to think of it. It just isn’t right. He claims not to remember the last ten years! But Lovey claims she murdered him. Well, he’s not the first person to come back from the dead, a little different from when we last saw him. There’s that whole Art Bigotti thing too. I wasn’t around when he was Jumanji’d, but there’s somethin’ fishy for sure with him. And Mom Asparagus, well, if she’s dead, who’s to say she’d stay dead either?”

Audrey nodded as she determined it. “Actually, I suppose, until we find her, she is simultaneously both dead and alive. Schrodinger’s Mom Asparagus, I guess. But who’s to say for sure? Do we really wanna open that box? Risk the smell? She’s been gone a few days now. Are answers really worth it? So whatever happened to the others who we haven’t seen in years, such as Stephan, Cassidy, or really anyone else, it’s impossible to know for sure who’s capable of comin’ back. Can’t say I’d mind, it’d shake things up a little. Lots more rumors to share. But uh, I just hope they have a good sense of humor. Ten years and a lot changes. We all just want to laugh and poke fun at the people we used to be, affectionately, because we know ourselves now. It’s nice to not take yourself too seriously, right?”

She gave the anon a long look, contemplating. Nine years waiting on an answer they must’ve long given up on. and yet, here she was, answering it all the same. Times moves on, but sometimes no matter how far we walk, we eventually end up in the same places again, just a little different from the last time we were here. She wondered if the anon, who really probably had left the message behind and forgot about it, was doing all right, wherever they were. It was hard not to wonder who wrote the message. A friend? A stranger? A neighbor? The creator of My Immortal?

Anything was possible.

And wasn’t that beautiful?

She looked forward, as if she were looking directly at the screen, and she curled her leaf into a ‘C’ shape. “And that’s how Audrey… ‘C’s it.”

[primusfortuna]

Scar ⟡ Beginning of a Bond (07)

[01] [02] [03] [04] [05] [06] [XX]

“Unshakable Ambition”

Several days after we successfully finished that event in Fairberg, the Land of Toys——

I’d just come back to the guild home after a shopping trip. Two voices could be heard from the living room, clearly having fun.

Scar: Heh~? So when you have five numbers in order, and they all have the same suit, it’s called a ‘straight flush’?

Daste: Yeah. It’s rare you’ll ever get a hand like that, though.

Scar: Does that mean it’s the strongest combination to have?

Daste: Nah, there’s this thing even stronger called a ‘royal straight flush.’

Taking a casual peek at them, I see Scar and Daste sitting on opposite ends of a table littered with cards.

Emma: Hi guys, I’m home. Are you playing something…?

Scar: Ah! Emma-san, welcome back~ Daste’s teaching me how to play right now.

Daste: You’re back? Oh, wanna come join us then? I was just about to start an actual game.

Daste: Poker, baccarat, craps. We can play whatever.

Emma: …I feel like those are all casino games…

Daste: Well, yeah—it’s way more fun when we put somethin’ on the line. I’ll treat whoever wins to some of my signature booze.

Scar: Yay! I’ve never tried alcohol before so I’m excited~

Daste: That’s what I’m talkin’ about! Oh yeah, and the loser will get beat up by the winner.

Scar: Okay!

Emma: Don’t say ‘okay’... Um… Daste, come here.

I anxiously call Daste over to a corner of the room.

Daste: What? This is kinda out of nowhere.

Emma: You’re one to talk! Why are you introducing Scar to bets and alcohol all of a sudden?

Daste: Ohh… that.

After hesitating for a moment, he answers while aggressively scratching his head.

Daste: He’s basically like a human kid, right? He doesn’t even know how to function in life to begin with.

Daste: So I thought I’d just teach him some things about gettin’ by in society. At least enough so no one makes fun of him.

Daste: It’s not just for him… but for you and me too.

Emma: Th-That makes sense? I agree with what you’re saying, but…

Emma: (Why does he have to start with gambling and alcohol…!?)

Just as I’m about to continue, Scar pipes in.

Scar: Hey hey, what’re you two doing~? I wanna play poker~

Daste: Oh, poker! Sounds good, I’m comin’.

Daste raises a hand and walks back towards Scar.

Emma: (...Ever since that night with the fireworks, Daste has been acting like a big brother towards Scar.)

Emma: (And Scar himself seems a little friendlier than before, just like a little brother.)

Emma: (...Hmm. Considering everything that’s happened, this is a change I should be happy about.)

But… for better or for worse, Scar is very innocent. I just hope that Daste’s lessons won’t have a bad impact on him.

Emma: (I might lose a few hairs if he suddenly declares he wants to start throwing bombs one day…!)

(Card shuffling noises)

Scar: Okay, I call two cards!

Daste: Alright, I’ll call three.

Emma: Mm… I think I’ll just leave it like that…

And so—after talking Daste into it, we were a few minutes into a game, without betting on money or anything else.

During a pause in our conversation, I turn to Scar with a question.

Emma: Hey, Scar? When we watched the fireworks, remember how you kept your promise to not open any people?

Emma: Could you maybe… further that promise? To never open up anyone from here on out?

Scar: Ngh…

Scar: I don’t want to promise that I’ll never do it.

Scar: I already made up my mind that someday I’ll find a soul, no matter what. And seeing how beautiful those fireworks were… I can’t ever give up.

Scar’s eyes twinkle with ambition as he asserts himself.

Daste: ……

Daste: …Hey, do you think… it’s my fault he got this weird burst of motivation?

Emma: No way—

Emma: ……

Emma: W-Well, maybe a little… Hahaha…

[Scar’s POV]

Emma-san is beaming with pure joy from across the table.

As I wait for my turn, I remember the fireworks I saw the other day.

Scar: (Fireworks… They’re sparkly and really, really pretty…)

Scar: (They were so, so big and beautiful… That was the first time something impressed me enough to make my heart flutter.)

Scar: (If I could see Daste and Emma-san’s souls someday…)

Scar: (Would it impress me even more than before?)

Scar: …Hehehe.

Daste: Aah? What’re you laughin’ at? Is your hand that good?

Scar: Hehe~ Guess you’ll have to see~! Anyway, next person go! It’s your turn, Emma-san. Still not ready?

Emma: Sorry for making you wait… Okay, I got it!

She calls several cards.

And then, feeling unusually passionate, I bring my focus back to our game of poker as well.

← Prev

TL notes: Regarding the usage of the term "call". In standard poker, a call means betting the same amount of chips that another player bet. The way the term was used in this chapter didn't seem to agree with its standard definition. I'm uncertain if that's because they are just playing their own variation (since Emma wanted a game without bets) or if its defintion can be flexible.

[cemeteryb0y]

!!!

[suckerfordylansstuff]

New Journey (S.H) Chapter 1 Season 4

Pairing: Steve Harrington x henderson!reader

Summary: Back to Hawkins for spring break. Y/n believed it would just be a quiet time to cherish with her loved ones, but one day in and another mess had already began.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of drugs, slight smut at the end

Notes: Back with season 4! Okay so I really liked writing this chapter, especially because I did something I have never done before. I wrote smut. Not full on, but I think for the amount I wrote I did pretty good. Go easy on me, I'm new. I want to warn everyone that there is some 'shit talk' about Eddie in this (don't attack me lol). Oh, I also have little to no knowledge about basketball and how the games work on the U.S., so if I made any mistake let me know! I hope you are safe out there and please enjoy the chapter! 💕

Gif not mine

Prologue << New Jounrey Masterlist >> Chapter 2

“Steve, phone!”  you called for your boyfriend to answer the ringing phone besides you. You were sitting by the counter, silently reading the descriptions on some of the movies Steve had lying around, trying to find something interesting for you to watch.

“Yep. Comin’!” you turned to see him as he slightly jogged towards the counter. He was previously rearranging some of the displays around the store. He says it was the perfect time to do it because not many people showed up to the store during lunch time. He passed by you, giving you a quick kiss, which made you smirk, before he answered the phone “Hello, this is Family Video, how can I help you today?”

“How professional.” you whispered, teasing him at how much his voice changed when he wanted to be serious for the costumers. He bit his lip, looking at you, fighting back a laugh, when recognition filled his eyes “Oh, hey, man, how’s it going?” you wondered who was on the other line, but your boyfriend’s next words made it clear “Nothing much, just planning on spending it with your sister.” he smiled and took hold of your hand, playing with your fingers as he listened to your brother’s words.

“No.” was the only thing Steve said after a minute of silence on his line. You were more than certain that Dustin was trying to make him do something Steve had no intention of doing whatsoever.

“What, so I can hang out with you and Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson? Uh, yeah, I’ll pass.” the boy in front of you scoffed.

‘Wait- Munson?’ you thought to yourself.

“Who?” you were shocked.

Of course you knew Eddie Munson. He was a year older than you and Steve yet still in High School. He was the one you went to for any kind of drug your heart desired. Buying from him were the only times you ever interacted. You didn’t truly know him; you never felt the need to. You had your friends, and he had his. But you always considered him as dangerous. Dealing with drugs was one thing, but the way he also acted at times, made you wary. You didn’t like judging people (especially after you saw a different side to the Steve your sixteen-year-old self knew), but nothing about Eddie made you feel safe.

You looked at Steve as he continued with his conversation. His face scrunched up “Ew. Ugh. Whatever. Look, there is no way I’m doing anything besides being with Y/n for the next days, so I’m out of the question.” his words would have made you smile cheekily, if you were focused on a certain matter. What was Dustin doing with a drug dealer?

Suddenly a sound caught your attention. Customers had entered the shop “Oh, I got some customers. I’ll call-” his words were cut short as he listened to Dustin speak, then his eyes fell on you and his brows lifting upwards. He must have connected the dots at your frustrated look “Yeah, I don’t know if that’s the best idea, but here you go.” he handed you the phone, before leaving to greet the customers.

“Hello, Dustin.” you said your voice steady, your elbows leaning on top of the counter.

“There she is! My great sister, who surprised us today. It’s so great having you back.” he was trying to butter you up so you would agree at his every request, but you weren’t having it.

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew Eddie Munson?” you went straight to the point you wanted to make.

“What? I told you about Eddie.” Dustin was confused at the new topic of conversation. The only thing he wanted was to find a person to fill in Lucas’ spot so he wouldn’t disappoint his new friend.

“No, no. You told me about an Eddie, not about Munson. How did this happen?”

“He’s the one who organizes the Dungeons & Dragons campaigns.” he simply replied “Which bring me back to my question. Wouldn’t you prefer to ditch St-” you cut him off.

“Dustin, I don’t think it’s good for you to be around him.” as the bigger sibling you always felt the need to express your opinion about something, especially if that involved a stupid thing your brother was doing.

“Why not?” he sounded hurt. He really enjoyed Eddie’s company. He even thought that one day you’d meet and be friends together. He tried pushing Steve to hang out with them more, but he always said the same thing ‘Why would I want to hang out with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson?’. He thought you’d be more open minded, and not just like everyone else. Maybe he was wrong…

“He’s a drug dealer, Dustin, need I say more?” you pressed on the matter.

“He’s not like how everyone else think he is. If you agree to be our sub tonight at the final campaign, then you’ll see that’s he’s actually pretty cool.” he hoped you’d agree and see for yourself, Eddie wasn’t a bad person. He was someone he looked up to. Someone he could relate to.

His words confused you “Wait? Tonight? Are you telling me that you will not be at the game tonight? The one where one of your best friends is playing in?”

“Uh…” your brother didn’t know who to respond. He hated missing the game, but D&D was more important right now.

You really wanted to make him come to his senses, but Steve’s words rang in your mind. He’s not a kid anymore. You don’t have to shield him away from the unknown. You knew if Dustin was ever in actual trouble, Steve would help him out, and given the fact that he hasn’t done anything about Munson means that he’s not as big of a threat as you believed he’d be. You sighed “If you’re not going to be there for Lucas, then I have to. You’ll need to find someone else to join you, Dusty.”

“Okay. I’ll go check if Mike had any luck finding someone.” the line got quiet. You didn’t like disappointing Dustin, you always wanted to see him with a huge smile on his face, but sometimes things don’t go your way. You opened your mouth to wish him luck with his game before hanging up when he beat you to it “I’m gonna go now… And Y/n? He’s a good person. You know I can realize when something is dangerous.” he said and hung up the phone.

You really didn’t give this kid enough credit. He’s been through so much, seen so many things, that you didn’t need to worry about every single thing that bothered you. He knew what was right and what was wrong.

“He didn’t tell you about Munson?” Steve voice pulled you away from your thoughts. He always knew what troubled you.

“He told me about an Eddie that he became friends with. He didn’t tell me it was Munson.” you turned to face him, your body leaning against the counter. He walked slowly towards you, taking your hands in his.

“He’s not bad. At least, based on what the kids tell me. Just crazy enough to want to hang out with them.” he laughed, and a smirk appeared on your lips.

“Well, then we’ll hit it off better than I thought!” you told him sarcastically. His smile didn’t leave its place as his palms found your hips, bringing his body closer, but not as close as you both would have preferred since there were still customers searching for a movie around the store.

“You worry too much.” he whispered making you scoff.

“It’s practically my job to worry about you guys. You’ll be dead without me, quite literally.” you were merely joking, yet the haunted memories that flushed in front of your eyes made your head fall downwards.

“If anything were to happen, Dustin would have talked to one of us. You know that.” he assured you, his long fingers cupping your chin and pushing it up.

“Yeah… I do.” you took in a deep breath as you looked up into his eyes. They were as sweet as honey while he stared down at you. He smiled and kissed your temple bringing your body into his arms for the umpteenth time that day (not that you were complaining).

“Just hang on one more hour and when Keith starts his shift, I’ll take you out for lunch before we need to get ready for the game tonight. How does that sound?” he pulled back a little to take a glance at your smile.

“It’s sound perfect.” you answered, kissing his chin in the process. Steve loved little sweet gestures like that, made him feel special and important.

“You’re perfect.” he returned your action with a kiss on your left cheek before you were interrupted by a customer clearing their throat to get Steve’s attention. You hid a smirk and stood besides Steve, leaving enough room between the two of you.

“So! What movie have we chosen today?” Steve claps his hands to break any uncomfortable tension, after the man caught you in such a state. He takes the movie from the counter to check it on the program before charging him “‘Back to the Future’? Oh, definitely recommend watching it, just not with your mom.” he laughed and looked at the man in front of him, expecting him to do the same, but looking confused when he didn’t receive anything back “You know, cause… the guy goes back to the future and like almost bangs him mom?” still no comment from the person in front of him whatsoever. Steve gave up trying, just asked him for his information and told him the total of the price.

You held your hand to your mouth, trying not to let out any laughter as the customer grabbed the movie from Steve’s hand and handed him the needed amount, then left quickly.

“What’s his problem?” Steve asked, eyes still on the glass door where the man walked out from.

“Well, some people actually like to watch the movie to learn the plot, not hear it from a stranger in a funny vest.” you chuckled, your fingers making their way on top of your boyfriend’s chest, straightening the vest he had on.

“Hey! This is high quality, I’ll have you know.” he played along with your joke.

“I can tell.” you teased, and his smirk stayed on his face until his lips fell on top of yours, muffling your giggles.

___

“Robin!” you were more than excited to see your friend again. You and Steve decided to arrive at school a little bit earlier than most of the students who’d want to watch the match would. You walked aimlessly through the corridors of your old school, telling stories to each other you already knew. At last, you went to the basketball court to look for your dear friend.

Right now, the only people in the school were the basketball team, both your team and the school’s opponent, warming up for the game, the band kids, who were chatting before they had to take their place at the stands and the journaling team, ready to take down notes for the paper tomorrow. Oh and, of course, the ‘Hellfire Club’ was somewhere hidden amongst the school grounds. You had insisted to drive them here, but Dustin refused. Steve joked that he didn’t want to be seen with us anymore since we’re old, and Dustin agreed just to spike him. You laughed at them, appreciating every second you had with these two. They were a hell of fun to be around, you missed them a lot.

“Henderson!” Robin smirked at you and hugged you after you ran towards her. Robin was the one of the people you hadn’t seen in months, and you were so happy to hear her laugh again. She hasn’t changed one bit, only her hair was a bit shorter now.

“How have you been?” you pulled away from her embrace, smiling at her. Steve had gone to catch up with his old coach, so it was just you and her talking.

“You know, trying to survive, as always. God, college suits you.” she chuckled as she started up and down at you. She referred to your ‘new look’. It wasn’t like you rebranded yourself the moment you went to college. You hated people who changed just to fit an image in their minds. But you definitely felt freer, making you more confident in your looks and behavior.

“Oh, stop it. Look at you, green is your color.” you looked down at the costume she was wearing for the band and giggled as she rolled her eyes.

“You have no idea how itchy I am right now.”

You continued catching up, Steve now back into your little group. You talked about your classes at college and your new friends, while she told you all the embarrassing stuff your boyfriend does at work.

“And then he told the woman that Vader is Luke’s father. She left the store in tears!”

“Oh my God, that poor woman.” you felt bad for her yet couldn’t hold in your laughter.

“I apologized for that and let her take the movie without paying. It was an honest mistake.” Steve defended himself and you took his hand in yours as a way to tell him it was okay, you were just teasing.

“You really need to stop ruining people’s movies at some point.” your eyes fell on Steve as he was laughing towards you sarcastically.

“Wait, he did it again?” Robin asked, but before you could answer, a voice interrupted your conversation.

“Hey, Robin! The teacher wants us to take our places.” you all turned to look at the girl, noticing more and more students coming through the doors, taking their place at the stands.

“Y-yeah! Coming, Vickie!” Robin’s voice wavered and the name she used made you gasp.

“Is that the girl you like?” you had a dumb smile on your face. Robin didn’t like talking about these things out in the open, where someone might hear you, but your voice was just a whisper, only for you three to hear.

“You told her?” Robin whined and hit Steve’s arm

“Yeah.” he answered as a matter of fact.

“She seems nice.” You took another glance at the girl before seeing Robin blush just a little bit.

“She is, but that’s not- It doesn’t matter!” she told you, stammering over her words.

“It does, when there is something going on between you two.” Steve said with a sly smile, just to irritate her.

“There is nothing-” a voice called for her again. You friend sighed, pointing her finger at Steve “I gotta go. I’ll deal with you later.”

Both you and Steve chuckled as you watched her make her way to the bleachers, conveniently standing right next to Vickie “Oh, she must be thrilled.” Steve noted.

“Hey, look, it’s Lucas!” you pointed towards your younger friend. He was stretching with some other guys from the basketball team when his eyes fell on you two. You smiled and waved. Lucas looked excited to see you. This game was important to him. He felt like tonight was his night. His final chance to make himself be seen. He thought no one was gonna be there for him except his parents. Seeing you and Steve made him happy and gave him the courage to not give up. He waved back and carried on with his warm-up. He would catch up with you later.

“Ready to go sit down?” Steve placed his hand on the small of your back when you nodded in agreement. After sending thumbs up to Lucas you made your way on the stands. You sat down and let your eyes roam through the students that were walking beside you and on the court. You remembered all your previous games here, the one most memorable last year.

The basketball team hadn’t made it to the finals, but there were still some friendly games happening. The one you were referring to was the last one of the year, it also was the last one Steve was going to play in. He was already sad about not making it into the final teams of the championship game, adding the fact that he was graduating too, made it even more emotional. So, you made it your mission to give him one of the happiest memories you could. You gathered the kids and made banners cheering him on. All night long people could hear clapping and yelling coming from where you were sitting, it made people stare at you funny, even gathered some comments from Steve’s ex friends, Tommy H. and Carol (God, you still despised them), but in the end it didn’t matter.

It didn’t because Steve ended up making the final shot. Your school won by two points and you had never seen Steve jump up in the air that high in your life. He was so happy to win, he was happy to be with you there, he was happy to see the little shitheads cheering him on and he was happy to finally see his father smile at him.

You still remembered how he ran up to you, embracing you with all the strength he had left and dipping you down to kiss you. You remember how whole you felt, all the worries about your relationship’s future leaving your body. Just focusing on you and him.

“Why are you smiling like that?” his voice pulled you away from your thoughts. You turned to look at him, placing your head on his shoulder, still smiling like an idiot.

“No reason.” he chuckled and kissed your forehead “So, how does it feel?” your intention today was to tease him, so that’s what you were going to do.

“How does what feel?” his words were innocent, not knowing where your mind was at this moment.

“That right after you graduated, we might actually win the Championship. Do you think it was just to spite you?” you smiled and looked at his face. He tried not to act at your words, finally catching up to your games. He just kept on facing the court, eyes away from your lingering gaze, because he didn’t know what he would do if he looked at you right now. All day you have been sharing touches along with soft or fierce kisses and he couldn’t wait to just be alone with you.

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“Really? Doesn’t it bring up doubts of whether you were good enough or not?” your fingers started drawing shapes on his thigh, not caring as more and more people were gathering around you, ready to watch the game. Your movements made shivers run up and down his spine, but he took a long breath not to show anything.

“Now I know you’re lying, because you’ve seen me on the court, and you can never seem to keep your eyes away from me.” finally his own eyes met yours, after he decided to tease you as well, but you weren’t backing down.

“Still, you haven’t won a Championship game.” he knew not to take your words seriously. You had that look in your eyes, the one that always drove him crazy. He knew you were teasing and his thoughts were confirmed when your lips were placed next to his ear, whispering with a low voice “But it doesn’t matter, because the only score that counts tonight isn’t on the court.” you placed a wet kiss on the spot right down his ear and smirked when you heard him inhale quickly.

His tongue ran over his front teeth and sighed with a devilish grin on his face “You’re insufferable.”

“You love it.” you gave him a quick kiss, just so he could take a taste and turned to look down on the court again.

At last your principle came on the court, meaning the game would soon start “Everyone now please rise for our national anthem.” you all replied to his request by standing up “Singing for us tonight, we have a very special guest. All the way from Nashville, our very own Tammy Tompson!”

Your and Steve’s mouth hang open as you watched the girl enter the court and make her way to the microphone. After Robin confessed her true feelings about love to Steve, he hadn’t stopped bringing it up just to see if their tastes were similar.

At some point the conversation went to past crushes and Robin told him all about her past ‘hatred’ towards him. About how the girl she liked only had eyes for him even though she knew she would be better for her. That girl was Tammy Tompson. Steve was shocked to hear that, not because Robin believed she would be better than him, but because he couldn’t get past a certain trait of hers. Her singing voice. He argued that she sounded like a Muppet and now hearing her sing you could definitely see his point.

You watched Steve as his head turned to Robin who was already looking at him, knowing where this was going “Told you. Muppet.” he mouthed over at your friend and she grinned accepting her defeat.

“Okay, she does sound like a Muppet.” she replied back and you tried to control your laughter. After a painful minute of listening to the anthem, the game started.

___

“Oh, come on! What was that?”

The game was going smoothly up until one of the opponent team’s players hurt one of your own. Steve’s comment was buried along with all the other people calling out the injury. Your player was too hurt to continue so your team’s coach signaled for another player to take his place. You were beyond excited to see Lucas running to take his spot.

“Go, Sinclair!”

Point after point, shoot after shoot, the game was at its last period. The score was 69-68, visitors winning by one point. You cursed under your breath as you watched Jason, the leader of your school’s team, miss his shot with only a few seconds on the clock. Luckily not all hope was gone.

You watched the ball fall into Lucas’ hands, and he moved away from the players, finding a place where he had a clear shot. You held onto Steve’s arm begging he’d take the shot just in time. There were only 3 seconds on the clock when he got the ball and on the very last second, he swung his arms, shooting towards the net. The clock went off, but the points would still count if he made it. It felt like time went slower as all the people were staring at the ball. It bounced on the hoop, but it was clearer than day, the ball got in, ending the game at 71-69, your team winning. You jumped up and down cheering for Lucas’ winning shot.

You watched as his teammates and coach congratulated him, how he hugged his mother and father and how his eyes search for you in the crowd. You grabbed Steve’s hand and jogged down towards the star of the night.

“You were incredible!” you smiled and hugged Lucas, not paying any attention to his sweaty body.

“It was an awesome shot, kid. Congrats.” Steve high-fived him and Lucas grinned at the two of you excitedly.

“Thanks! I’m so happy to see you!” he hugged you one more time and then left to go cheer with his fellow teammates.

“What a game, huh?” a feminine voice said next to you.

“Nancy!” your arms pulled her into a tight hug. Over the months you have barely spoken to her, but you both knew that it doesn’t matter how often you talk. You will always be friends. You will always be there when any of you need it.

“Hey! I saw you and came to say hello. It’s very good to see you.” Her eyes drifted at Steve for a moment, sending him a quick smile to greet him. He sent her a wave, just standing behind you, giving you time to talk.

“You too! Congrats on the college acceptance, by the way. Are you excited?” you took a good look at her. Her hair was a bit longer, and she wore her college’s sweatshirt. A pen and notebook in hand to take down any notes she needed for tomorrow’s paper. Still the Nancy you knew.

“Very! I’ve been meaning to ask you a few things about college. We should meet up.”

“Of course! Hey, how is Jonathan? I haven’t spoken to him for a quite some time.” you and Jonathan were once best friend, but times change. You still loved him and his entire family to bits, but you don’t really hold the title as his ‘best friend’ anymore. You both have changed but made a deal to talk as often as you could. Those phone calls mostly involved stories about your new lives, friends, and your families. Sometimes Joyce, Eleven and Will would join the call wishing you the best or asking you question about your life there. You loved every single thing about these calls. But sometimes your conversations would center around fears and worries. You may not be best friends anymore, but you would always understand each other’s feeling, talking with no fear of judgement. You knew that moving to California was a big and weird change for him and he has been feeling a little distant from everything. Even his relationship with Nancy.

You lied. You had talked to him just a week ago. He told you everything one night he called when he was very high (he didn’t admit it, but you knew him all too well). He had just gotten his acceptance letter to Lenora Hills Community College, even though his plan was to go to the same one as Nancy, Emerson College. He was worried that if he told her the truth, she would give up her dream for him. You called him stupid for lying to his girlfriend and for underestimating her logical thinking. So, you decided to see her point of view. Those two have been in love ever since they truly saw one another and you wanted to help them, you didn’t want them to do the same mistake you and Steve did last summer.

Your plan was to just mention him for now, see how she reacts up front to his name. You couldn’t tell her Jonathan’s secret, as it wasn’t yours to tell. You only wanted to advise her for the best, since you were pretty sure she would have worries too about what’s about to come. You knew you did last summer. You had no one to guide you back then and you wanted to be that person she could trust now.

“Oh, he’s great. We’re great. Just waiting for the big news from him too!” you could tell her small laughter at the end wasn’t entirely genuine. Her smiled wavered before she pointed back at the court “I must go now, paper to print tomorrow.” she waved the pen and notebook, school duty calling for her. You bid her goodbye, telling her you’d call to set a date for your meet up, when Steve wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his body, lips landing near your ear.

“Should we uh… get going too?” his voice was soft, just for you to hear. You giggled as he pressed kisses on your neck and cheek.

“God, Harrington, get your head out of the gutter.”

___

A little while later you and Steve were outside of his house. His parents were on a business trip once again, so in his words it was ‘the perfect place for a quiet night’. He had made his way upstairs, wanting to clean up a bit, while you called home. Your mother answered. You informed her you were back at Steve’s place safe and sound. She knew you were going to spend the night there; you had told her over the dinner you all had before going to the game. She made you promise her to not do anything stupid while sleeping at his house and you just smiled and nodded. She was now telling you her ‘protection’ lecture once again when you heard a door open and close from the other line.

“Hey, is Dustin back home yet?”

“Oh, yes, he just arrived. How was the game, Dusty?” there was some muffled talking before you could hear clearly again “Wait, Dustin, your sister is on the phone. Tell her goodnight.”

“Hey, where are you?” he sounded a bit out of breath, probably from the excitement and riding back home.

“I’m at Steve’s, I’m spending the night here.”

“Oh. Oh. Ew, don’t let the whole neighborhood hear you.” he joked and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m just going to ignore that. So, how was the game?” your body leaned against the wall next to the phone as you listened to him go on and on about tonight.

“We won! Yeah, it was crazy. So it turns out Vecna wasn’t really dead. Eddie brought him back into the campaign as the last battle and at the end it was only me and Erica still fighting. I lost, but she managed to score a twenty! A fucking twenty, Y/n! So, Vecna- Yeah sorry mom.” You laughed as you heard your mother’s voice saying language “Yeah, anyway. We defeated him at the last second. Even Eddie seemed impressed, it was unbelievable.” his giggles filled your ears making you fondly smile at your brother, glad he couldn’t see you because you knew he’d tease you even more. Teenagers are mean at this age.

“Wow, sounds like one hell of a campaign. We had some fun too.”

“Oh, yeah, how was the game? We didn’t get to see Lucas after…” you could tell he was genuinely pretty upset to not see his friend at the game.

“He made the shot and scored our final points, making Hawkins win.” you announced excitedly.

“Woah, that’s great!” he had a big smile on his face, but a bit of guilt had grown in the pit of his stomach.

“Yeah! Maybe you should call him? Let him know you’re happy for him. What do you say?” you urged him.

“Yeah… That’d be a good idea. I’ll call him right now. Goodnight, Y/n, don’t stay up all night.” he wanted to sound stern, but you could sense his grin from miles away.

“Goodnight, Dustin, and I’ll do whatever I want.” you argued back, happy to not fight for once with him after you had arrived back home.

“Tell Steve he’s an idiot!” were the last words you heard from him before the line went silent. Your smile didn’t leave your face as you walked up the stairs, making your way towards Steve’s room ready to tease him more with Dustin’s words “Steve! Dustin asked me to tell you that-” but your sentence was caught off when you opened his bedroom’s door.

Small candles were lit all over the room, the orange hue being the only source of light. It made the room look even cozier than you remembered. A string pulled on your heart when your eyes fell on Steve. He was standing in the middle of the room, a single red rose in his hands. His smile was small, but sweet watching your eyes widen in surprise.

“What- H-how?” you were stammering, your words only a whisper. He grinned and took a few slow steps towards you.

“I had this whole thing planned for next week, when I thought you’d actually come visit, so I had to do it quickly now.” his sentence ended just as he came to stand right in front of me, not even a meter away from each other “This is for you.” he handed me the rose.

“Where did you get the rose?” your voice was small. You were caught off guard with his gesture. You thought tonight you were the one on the upper hand, but of course your stupidly sweet boyfriend had to make your heart swell up and have you at his mercy.

“I took it from my mom’s garden. Let’s hope she doesn’t notice one of them is cut.” his hands moved from his sides, one landing on your cheek and the other by your hip. Your face responded to his touch as a sigh left your lips. You looked up into his eyes and let out a laugh, your own hands locking behind his neck bringing him closer to your body.

“Thank you.” you kissed his lips, then his cheek before you ended up on the crook of his neck hugging him tightly. His arms embraced you with no hesitation, hugging your figure lovingly.

“I bet this is killing you right now.” you could feel him smiling from above you and you groaned in response. He knew you wanted to be in charge tonight and he loved it whenever you were the most confident in yourself, but he couldn’t let you win. Not tonight. Not when he has missed you so much. Missed your touch, your kisses, your body.

“Ugh, I didn’t expect you to be this sweet tonight, and the only thing I’ve been doing was being mean to you.” your head left his shoulder, lips pouting and heart racing when you locked eyes.

“Yeah, you have been pretty mean to me. Maybe we should do something about that.”

With firm hands on your hips, he lightly pushed you backwards, your back landing on the door. Your breaths were getting heavier, and your skin burned with the need to be as close to him as possible. You watched as his eyes exploring your face, acting like this was the first time he had laid eyes on you, and you loved it. You wanted his full attention, right now and forever.

Finally, his lips landed on yours, starting with light kisses that evolved into a heated make out. His tongue slipped into your mouth with ease. You loved how well he knew you. How he knew the exact things that drove you mad, knowing how and when to do them. As you did also. Right now, your hands were playing with his hair, messing it around, destroying the shape he spends hours in the morning perfecting, your nails scratching his scalp lightly. It made him moan into your mouth and your heart skip a beat. He, on the other hand, was moving his hands up and down your body, leaving a trail of fire with his every touch. He was still exploring your mouth when one of his palms landed on your neck, slightly squeezing it, making you gasp and break the kiss.

His stupid grin was back, enjoying his effect on you. He listened to your moans while his wet kisses replaced the grip on your neck. He sucked hard on the sensitive skin, knowing in the morning you’d be mad at him for leaving all these marks, but right now none of you cared. The only thing you cared about was getting more of him, so you pushed yourself off the door and with careful steps you made your way towards his bed. The back of his knees hit the foot of the bed and with a quick move, he had you on top of his lap, his hands on your ass steadying you down.

Your lips were once again locked into his, fingers roaming all over his body. Not long after you sat down, you took hold of his shirt tugging it upwards and throwing it on the floor. He did the same with your own shirt, but you didn’t give him time to do anything as your lips broke away from your heated kiss and made their way on his neck. He slowly backed down on the bed, taking you with him, his hot breath filling the silence of the room. Your teeth biting before soothing his skin with your tongue. He loved it when you took this kind of initiative, but as you moved down towards his chest, he remembered you should be the one with his full attention.

“Don’t think you can get away with your behavior by a few little kisses, sweetheart.” his voice was deep, and you could feel the need and want behind his words.

“But you have been torturing me.” you groaned, his hand guiding you back towards his face, giving you a harsh quick kiss.

“Oh, have I? How so?” he was smothering you with kisses all over your face. Lips, cheeks, forehead, eyelids, everywhere, and for a moment you forgot what you wanted to tell him.

“Yes, you have barely touched me where I need you the most.” You kissed his neck once again, your hips moving up and down Steve’s lap, both of you enjoying the friction. His palms went over your covered breasts, squeezing before he yanked you from his body, straddling you down on his bed, arms placed above your head, locking you into place with his bigger frame.

“We should fix that.” he started leaving a trace of kisses all over your body as he came closer to where you wanted him. He was unbuttoning your pants, taking his sweet time doing so, wanting you to yearn for him even more. You watched his every move. You watched as he took off your jeans one leg at a time, kissing your thighs while his fingers tangled themselves between your panties, touching everywhere but your center. You were a hot mess and he loved it. Your own fingers were on his scalp, tugging his hair, silently begging for more.  Finally, he gave into your demands. With one swift move your underwear was ripped from your body, making you gasp. The sound of his moaning name coming from your mouth giving him a rush of adrenaline to please you in all the ways he could think of. And there were a lot.

~~~

(P.S. I wanted to ask you guys if you'd want me to continue on the Duffer Brother's storyline about Nancy and Steve remembering their feelings for each other. I don't want to have Steve to go back to Nancy, so I think I'll just stick to her just having doubts about whether or not she made the right choice, have some little angst with the reader. Or I could just leave Nancy's story to the worries I described in the chapter. It's entirely your call, so let me know!)

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[apomaro-mellow]

Werewolf Steve x Vampire Eddie

Part 1/?

Steve watched as Eddie back up with that tell-tale look on his face.

“Munson don’t you do it. Don’t you run away from me.” Steve advanced, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

Eddie, the bastard, just grinned and transformed right then and there, his wings taking him up into the sky and away from this conversation.

“Dammit!”, Steve hissed, annoyed.

“Yep, saw that comin’“, Dustin had the audacity to comment from the sidelines. 

Steve rounded on him. “This is all your fault Henderson.”

“My fault?”

Yes. His fault. Because Eddie Munson never would’ve strolled into Steve’s life had he not met him on that fateful night. 

The full moon resonated with Steve and he had been running around with Robin and Jonathan when he heard Dustin’s stray howl. When Steve didn’t hear the answering call of any of their pack, he parted from his two friends to see what was up, howling a reply himself.

It was odd for Dustin to be alone. But it turned out he wasn’t. Because apparently, in his abundance of time, Dustin not only made friends with a vampire but the most insufferable one in all of existence. Steve didn’t realize this at first though. He only saw a vampire advancing on a cub and simply reacted. 

So what if he bit Dustin’s new friend? Eddie deserved it. Retroactively. By pulling moves like this.

“I invite him to dinner and somehow I’m the asshole?”, Steve frowned.

Dustin shrugged. “Eddie said he doesn’t do pack stuff.”

“He’s taking the loner thing too seriously.”

They returned back home and Dustin reported Steve’s failure at inviting Eddie.

“Can’t blame the guy”, Robin said. “Vamps aren’t the most social bunch. Pass the potatoes.”

“Also, the first glimpse of ‘pack stuff’ he saw was a grooming”, Max said as she handed the bowl over. “I think that’d turn most folks away.”

“But he has a whole club of vampires he hangs out with”, Steve argued.

“There’s nothing wrong with hygiene”, Joyce piped up. “As for this friend of Dustin’s, we need to let him acclimate at his own pace.”

“He’s one blood sucker going into a den of wolves”, Hopper said. “He’s right to be cautious.”

Cautious. Right. So far, whenever Eddie hung out with Dustin or any member of their pack, it was on neutral ground. For some reason, Steve took personal offense to the fact Munson didn’t want to come over.

------------

A few nights later, when Dustin reported as much when he and Eddie went to the arcade, Eddie pushed away from the air hockey table and began to pace around.

“I knew it. I just knew it.”

“Knew what?”, Dustin moved away from the table too while Mike and Erica moved in to continue the game like nothing happened.

“This is how they get ya”, Eddie pointed at Dustin. “They lure you in with a cute kid. Or a dog. Or both. And then all of a sudden you’re meeting the family, and picking out wedding invitations and before you know it I’m choppin’ the locks and we’re all...Leave it to Beaver bullshit!”

“Uhh, did Steve ask you out and I missed it?”, Erica asked, definitely not missing a beat as she scored on Mike.

“I am also confused”, Dustin said. “Because I was under the impression that you and Steve were at the ‘begrudgingly tolerant’ stage. Are you trying to say-wait, what are you trying to say?”

Erica’s brow raised. “Are you into Steve?”

Mike whipped around, giving Erica a free point. “Eddie what the hell? Steve? Harrington? Steve Harrington?”

“Over my dead body”, Eddie said. “Over my dead body I’m falling for that...that...”

“Watch it”, Dustin warned.

“That hairball.”

“That’s fair”, Dustin shrugged.

“I mean it would explain why you always lose whatever shred of cool you have around him”, Erica said matter-of-factly. “And why you always got full-bat when you’ve exhausted that cool. And why you’re always talkin’ about the way he smells-”

“Cause he smells like wet dog! And...something else.”

“Oh my god.” Mike was going through a crisis. “Oh my god!”

Eddie ran a hand through his hair. “Stop saying that like you’re having a revelation Wheeler.”

“Eddie. Serious question.” Dustin put his hands together. “Do you have a crush on Steve?”

Eddie would’ve brandished his fangs but that stopped working on these kids months ago.

----------------------

“How come you never ask Robin to do this?”, Steve asked.

“I love her to death, but she’s not going anywhere near my plants”, Nancy said as she knelt down.

Steve was watering a bunch of things he didn’t know the names of. Nancy was picking like she knew all their secrets. The full moon was coming up. She must have a spell planned.

“Full moon will be soon”, Nancy said, rather randomly.

“Yeah.”

“And you’re going to do some running?”

“Yeah. Robin will be out too.” Which she should know, the two had been dating for about a year. So why was Nancy asking?

“Steve, what are you and Eddie doing?”

Trust Nancy to cut through the bullshit.

“We are not doing anything. He’s fine with just being friends with Dustin, and the other kids, and just hanging out in town, and that’s fine, and that’s it. That’s it, Nance.”

“Hmm. Well Mike said-”

“I mean how could he not just come to dinner, huh? Like I get that he knows Will and Dustin but Max doesn’t play DnD and call me crazy but I think he and Robin would hit it off and if he’s...masquerading as some kinda mentor for Dustin then he should get to know his family.”

“You’re right”, Nancy said, standing with the basket of her harvest. “He should get to know the family.”

[ratofthemedievalsewers]

Heart of Steel - Part I

DBH Connor x Male Reader

Word Count: 2.5K+

Content warning: Minor injury detail, PTSD, language

Original game dialogue I got from this video:

https://youtu.be/32Np9LKI1Vg

We were attacked in the night.

After returning from a mission back to an outpost several miles from the red zone, we removed our gear save for a few pouches on our belts we could bother with later. Our team leader set up a fire while the SQ800s, CyberLife commissioned combat androids, began loading up the trucks with extra artillery and resources. A job that could have waited until morning, but Alpha always gave the androids something to do. He said that they creeped him out when they would just stand there in a dormant state, waiting for their next mission to be given to them.

"You know what I'm going to do when I get home?"

"Here we go again."

"I'm going to get me a WR400," Foxtrot; not everyone's favourite but he certainly kept us entertained when there was nothing to do.

"Uh-huh and with what money are you going to be using to pay for this WR400? A military salary definitely ain't gonna cut it." Echo always called out Foxtrot's bullshit, he was the only one that had the patience to deal with him.

"Fine, my birthday is comin' up, if you put towards two-thirds of what it costs we can share. How does that sound?"

"I am not sharing anything with you, I don't know what diseases you carry." Their constant back forth sent chuckles through the group.

"Alright, that's enough you two. It's getting late and past everyone's bedtime, I want you all awake by O-five-hundred at the latest," Alpha would often stop them before Foxtrot would take it too far, but he could never hide the twitching smile on his face.

"Yes sir," Foxtrot mock saluted as he stood from his seat around the campfire. "Hey Echo, that offer is still-"

One moment Foxtrot had a wide grin on his face, the next there was a hole in his head between his eyes, the sound of gunshot ringing in everyone's ears.

"SHOTS FIRED! GET TO COVER NOW!"

"FOXTROT IS DOWN! I REPEAT, FOXTROT IS DOWN!"

It was dark, we couldn't see where they were firing from. The android was the only one still standing, firing off in random directions as they were gunned down. The next was Delta, shot in the left shoulder, then the throat. My gun was back in my tent and there was no chance of me getting it. Stupid.

"MEDIC! GET TO DELTA! NOW!"

"GRENADE!"

I heard the thump by my feet before I saw it. You would think it would be terrifying, to know you're staring death in the face, but for a second it was peaceful. My body was cold and I already felt like a corpse, the Rigour Mortis freezing me in place, just softly gazing at what would kill me.

Something grabbed me before the grenade exploded, saving my life but destroying the android.

The bedsheets were crumpled and soaked in sweat again when my eyes shot open. It was hard to breathe, the panic was still running through me and closing up my throat at the memory.

In; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four. Out; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four.

It took a few minutes for me to remember where I was. That I was home and that I was safe. Out of nervous habit, I gripped my dog tags, they were wet from the sweat that had soaked through my shirt in the night.

"Shit." It was four in the morning, there was no chance of getting any more sleep and the station wouldn't be open for another two more hours at the least. Saying that; Fowler wanted to speak to me first thing, which never meant anything good for anyone.

It was aching again at the joint. The biomechanical component always felt itchy where it joined at the elbow. Anytime I would have that dream I would scratch at it in my sleep, it was like my subconscious knew it didn't belong. It knew my rotting left arm was still in the desert somewhere being picked apart by vultures.

It's almost ironic; to be saved by an android and then to have part of one attached to me. I hated it.

*****

"Morning Cyborg, you look like shit." Gavin was forever pleasant to talk to.

"Fuck off, Reed." He constantly hovered around the coffee machine, hogging it like it was his newborn baby. "Is Fowler in yet?"

"Not yet, you in trouble?" He took his time making his coffee, exceeding in being the department's resident asshat. "Did he catch you looking at porn on your work terminal again?"

"I'm pretty sure that's only ever happened to you." Not wanting to be reminded of his previous escapades I got no response. Gavin let out a small huff before moving to the side with his fresh cup of coffee, freeing up the machine.

"Officer (L/N)." Oh for fuck's sake.

"Sir?" Captain Fowler stood outside his office, his coat half soaked from the rain.

"My office, I need to speak to you." He didn't give a second glance to me before turning and letting the glass door shut behind him.

"Ha, good luck cyborg." Shooting Gavin the middle finger, I followed Captian Fowler into his office.

"What was it you wished to talk about, sir?" Feet shoulder-width apart, back straight and hands behind my back; habits from the army were destined to die hard. Often I would find myself moving my hand up to salute before leaving the presence of a superior, something else for Gavin to make fun of.

"You're aware of the deviant cases I've assigned to Lieutenant Anderson, correct?" Fowler sat at his desk, wet coat now hung on its rack, but there was slight dampness to his suit blazer where his coat had been left open.

"Yes sir. I believe he's being accompanied by a prototype RK800 from Cyberlife."

"That's correct. I'm sure you're aware that these deviancy cases are on the more..."

"Dangerous?"

"...Unpredictable side. Now, I can't exactly issue a gun to a prototype android if it's going to be in the field and, while I value Hank as a police officer, his record is on the rougher side."

"Captain Fowler, with all due respect, I don't believe-"

"Office (L/N), with all due respect, you don't have an opinion in this matter. I want you to accompany Lieutenant Anderson in these assignments just in case a deviant becomes too much for him or this android to handle. You've certainly got the skillset for it and you're not unfamiliar with working alongside androids, unlike quite a few officers in this department."

"I understand that, but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say I don't want to hear it." Captain Fowler didn't give me a chance to argue as he stood and walked to his office door, the annoyed look on his face worsening. "Hank, in my office!"

I let out a sigh before Captain Fowler turned back to his desk. Through the office wall made of glass Hank reluctantly made his way towards us grumbling something under his breath at the request, the RK800 model obediently following behind him like a little, lost puppy. Hank sat in the chair opposite Fowler while the android stood next to me, giving a small smile as a greeting.

Captain Fowler was the first to talk, "I've got ten new cases involving androids on my desk every day. We've always had isolated incidents, old ladies losing their android maids and that kind of crap... But now, we're getting reports of assaults and even homicides, like that guy last night. This isn't just cyberlife's problem anymore, it's now a criminal investigation and we've gotta deal with it before the shit hits the fan. I want you to investigate these cases, alongside officer (L/N) and see if there's any link."

"Why me? And why do I need a god damned partner? A stupid android is already too much. Why do I gotta be the one to deal with this shit?" Props to Hank for trying, but arguing with Fowler was like talking to a brick wall. "I am the least qualified cop in the country to handle this case! I know jack shit about androids, Jeffery. I can barely change the settings on my own phone."

"Everybody's overloaded. I think you're perfectly qualified for this type of investigation," They were already starting to blow up at each other.

"Bullshit! The truth is nobody wants to investigate these fuckin' androids and you left me holdin' the bag!"

"CyberLife sent over this android to help with this investigation and I've given you (L/N) as well. You've got a state of the art prototype and a leading police officer to act as your partners."

"No fuckin' way! I don't need partners, and certainly not this plastic prick and some action hero fucker."

"Nice working with you too, Lieutenant Anderson," I said under my breath, not intending for the others to hear. Connor turned his head slightly in my direction, I could see his LED blink yellow for a moment before going back to its bright blue.

"Hank, you are seriously starting to piss me off! You are a police lieutenant, you are supposed to do what I say and shut your goddamn mouth!"

"You know what my goddamn mouth has to say to you, huh?"

"I'll pretend like I didn't hear that, so I don't have to add any more pages to your disciplinary folder 'cause it already looks like a fuckin' novel! This conversation is over."

"Jeffrey, Jesus Christ! Why are you doin' this to me? You know how much I hate these fuckin' things. Why are you doin' this to me?" Most of the department knew why he had such a distaste towards androids, no one could necessarily blame him. Ever since losing his son Hank had become completely different as both a person and an officer. Admittedly, Fowler was harsh on him, but if he wasn't then Hank would drift.

"I've had just enough of your bitching. Either you do your job or you hand in your badge. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." Hank left in a strop, letting out his frustration on Fowler's office door.

"Well then..." Connor was quick to break the tense silence. His voice caught me off guard, it was smoother, more human than any android's I had heard before. The SQ800's voices had always been more robotic than other models so it had been a shock when the androids back home had sounded so normal, it felt like that all over again. It was jarring. "I won't keep you any longer. Have a nice day captain."

Connor left and I followed behind, giving a small nod of dismissal to Fowler despite him still looking at his terminal screen.

The android went straight to Hank either oblivious or ignoring the lieutenant's current bad mood, granted there was never a time the bastard was in a good mood. Heaven itself could rain down on Detroit and he'd huff at it like a hair in his food.

"I got the impression my presence causes you some inconvenience, Lieutenant. I'd like you to know I'm very sorry about that. In any case, I'd like you to know I'm very to be working with you." Ever the enthusiast.

"I'd give in now. You're talking to a toddler in a fifty-year old's body and the toddler is having a hissy fit." I half sat and half leant against Hank's desk, using my arms to support my weight.

"Apologies, I don't believe I've introduced myself. My name is Connor, I am the android sent by CyberLife." He turned to me, a gentle and manufactured smile on his face. "It's a pleasure to be working with you too, officer (L/N). I'm sure we'll make a great team."

"Er... (Y/N) is just fine."

"Is there a desk anywhere I could use?"

"No one's using that one." Hank points to the desk opposite him, while still sulking like a child.

"Gasp, it speaks," I said in a sarcastic tone while turning to Hank.

"Fuck off. I've already got an android on my ass, I don't need you on it too."

I grabbed a terminal pad before perching myself back at the edge of Hank's desk while Connor got comfortable at the empty one. The light at the side of his head flashing yellow for a moment like he was hesitant to speak."You have a dog, right?"

"How do you know that?"

"The dog hairs on your chair. I like dogs. What's your dog's name?"

"What's it to you?" Hank shifted in his seat, "...Sumo... I call him Sumo."

"Under all those shitty shirts and questionable stains there's a warm, beating heart," I say more to myself than the other two, skimming over the recent case files sent in by Fowler.

"Officer (L/N)... (Y/N), knowing that we'd be working together I read your academy and field records. You have quite an interesting background."

"Oh yeah, then you understand that I may be a little driven to get these cases over with. I can't say I'm a fan of you terminators."

"I understand you have a... warped view of androids due to what you've experienced, but I hope you understand that I am your partner and not your enemy."

"Connor, you're not my partner, you're cyberlife's latest gizmo for us kick around." I sigh, turning to sit at my desk adjacent to hanks, taking the terminal pad with me. "Just look through the deviant case files. Terminals on your desk, knock yourself out."

They're nothing but machines. They are not your friends.

"Two-hundred and forty-three files, the first date back nine months. It all started in Detroit... And quickly spread across the country." Connor had only connected the terminal moments before.

"Don't work your CPU too hard," I mutter under my breath, catching a quick huff of amusement from Hank.

"An AX400 is reported to have murdered a man last night. That could be a good starting point for our investigation." Hank was doing his best to pretend Connor didn't exist, but the android was persistent. Connor stood from his chair and made his way into Hank's personal space.

"Uh, Jesus..." Hank turned his chair away.

"I understand you're facing personal issues, Lieutenant, but you need to move past them and-" For an android, Connor has some balls on him.

"Hey! Don't talk to me like you know me. I'm not your friend and I don't need your advice, okay?" Hank's mood had soured like milk, it wouldn't be long until Fowler was adding another page to Hank's disciplinary folder.

"I've been assigned this mission Lieutenant, I didn't come here to wait until you feel like working."

"Connor, you're just gonna-" I had wasted my breath, Hank had already stood and was grabbing onto Connor by the collar of his Cyberlife jacket and slamming against the screen next to his desk. "Hank!"

"Listen asshole. If it were up to me, I'd rather throw the lot of you in a dumpster and set a match to it. So, stop pissing me off... or things are gonna get nasty."

"Hank," I placed a hand on his shoulder to try and lightly pull him away from Connor but only earned a nasty side-eye. "Leave off him, you don't get paid enough to replace him."

"Lieutenant... Officer (L/N), uh... sorry to disturb you," Looks like the tin can was saved before Hank could knock the light out of him, "I have some information on the AX400 that killed that guy last night. It's been sighted in the Ravendale district."

"I'm on it." Hank didn't glance back when he dropped Connor's collar. The puppy dog look on his face almost made me feel bad for him... almost.

"Come on, WALL-E. Don't want to keep the old man waiting."