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#< kasey talks about men too much
thinehitmanagency · 4 months
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happy pride month now i have to tell you all about gay people and you have to listen sorry. like and subscribe. or die
blaster - bisexual. very repressed. the closet door is jammed shut and he can’t get out. it’s okay blaster some of us think about having gay sex. we know what you are. free my man.
dll - queer. the d in his name actually stands for daddy. father to all. the messy details don’t matter.
briar - pansexual. he doesn’t have to try very hard. although he is less popular with people when it comes to his personality and how rude he can be.
cadmium - pansexual. even being slightly nice to him is a one way ticket to his heart. anyone’s edible!— er, dateable, he means. there’s enough teeth for everyone… non cannibalistically.
& - transfem, omnisexual. love isn’t very much her forte at the moment, but she does love money. everyone loves money. which is why she would give money to everyone she loved.
silver - transmasc, mlm. this guy loves his boys a bit too much. don’t tell anyone else, even though it’s not exactly a secret. was brutally rejected by briar on new year’s eve.
mr g.l. - bicurious. it’s hard being a man named gordon and finding love with any gender. recently, he’s been exploring a new part of himself… that’s also hard when he stands so autistically.
zinc - unlabeled. a very human man who also loves other very human people. there’s nothing suspicious about that, right? just… humans. loving other humans.
bonnibelle - aromantic, bisexual. loves himself a nice situationship. does not love herself a bad time. isn’t one for romance, but he tries occasionally.
dreadelle - aroace. loves all her friends! even if they find her a bit odd. maybe it’s because she’s a corpse? well, who cares about the trivialities…
jamie - omnisexual. though he hasn’t had much luck with relationships, considering the fact he’s invisible. but someone might be down for invisible dick one day. he’s very lonely.
d011in7 - unlabeled. HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I’VE COME TO HATE YOU SINCE I BEGAN TO LIVE. anyways, he craves human affection to an almost impossible degree.
unknwn - polysexual. this southern guy used to be desirable to many, but now he doesn’t even go outside. not even people online want him. please. he will do anything. please give him a sliver of validation. he will give you money. dick pics. anything you want. he’s miserable. and have you considered, please? please please please?
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invisibleraven · 10 months
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foster family au YOU KNOW I HAVE TO
When Alex and Willie got serious, they had the big talk about marriage and kids, because they wanted to make sure they were on the same page about both. Willie was pretty eh about marriage-something about needing government validation for their relationship.
"But I wouldn't mind it with you hot dog," he said with a wink, making Alex blush and groan simultaneously.
The kid thing was a bit more serious. Alex had wanted to be a dad since forever-dreamed of it really. It was something his parents had mocked him about when he came out, claiming gay men couldn't be parents.
But things had come so far since then-they could hire a surrogate or adopt now. "What about fostering?" Willie asked shyly.
"What about it?" Alex asks.
"Could we be foster parents for a bit first?" Willie clarifies. "I was a foster kid for so long, jumping from house to house, so I know there's not enough good ones out there. Plus a lot of older kids end up in the system, and they never got adopted."
"Because everyone wants babies," Alex concluded. Which, he couldn't say much, that's what he wanted too. Watching a child grow right from the start-like it was their own, not one they essentially bought. But he could see Willie's point-he had never found a real home or family until Caleb found him right before he aged out of the system.
And well, Caleb was more like a fabulous uncle than a dad, so Alex could see Willie's point about finding older kids needing a real family unit. "We can do that, sure," he assured him.
It was a few years later, when they had a house to call their own, rings on their fingers and steady jobs that they apply-Alex knowing the agency would look more kindly on those factors when considering them. There's a lot of paperwork, and visits and assessments.
"Geez with the amount of kids flooding the system you would think there would be less red tape to wade through," Willie grumbled as they submitted yet another sheath of signed contracts.
"I think you'd be happier that they are so particular to weed out the bad homes," Alex replied. "Less Ms. Hannigans this way."
"Well now I wanna watch Annie," Willie said with a grin.
"Carol Burnett or Kathy Bates?" Alex asks with an answering smile.
"Thank you for not making the other remakes an option, and you know my answer is both," Willie replied.
It takes a few months for processing to go though, but eventually they get selected to receive their first kid-Parker who is only staying the weekend until her grandparents can take her on. She's sassy, way too good with locks, and Willie loves her. He slips her some money and their address when she leaves, just in case she ever wants to come back, or write. Alex feels they haven't seen the last of her.
Their next charge is Ollie, who had been a street kid that Willie had caught sleeping at the street park. He is in the system, so his social worker is happy enough for them to take him. He's a bit rough around the edges, but he bonds with them quickly enough, and a whiz in the kitchen.
It's kind of heart breaking when they try to shift him to another home, Willie even telling them he's welcome to stay as long as he wants. Alex is a bit more realistic, knowing this is how things work, that they don't have control over how long each kid stays. There's lots of tears when Ollie leaves, but he promises to call when he gets to Toledo-where his uncle lives to let them know he's okay.
They get the twins, Micah and Solange next, who are a handful, but ultimately sweet. Then Kasey, Hanna, Roger, and Bianca. None of them stay long, but Alex feels they leave better off than they were when they came.
Willie is the one who approaches him about maybe looking for something a little more permanent. "I love that we've been able to help so many kids but it hurts so much when they go. I want one that stays, that's ours. We can keep fostering... but I want a baby."
Alex brings him in for a hug, and agrees. They decide to adopt, since they're already in the system, making it easier. They meet a lot of couples who are pregnant, but none of them decide on Alex and Willie for whatever reason.
Then their social worker calls, asking if they'd be opposed to a toddler.
Isla is not even two, but lost her parents in an accident, and has no other family. She's a gorgeous little redhead who is pretty happy despite the tragedy that's befallen her. They foster her for a bit, just to make sure it's a good fit, but before the end of the year she's theirs officially.
The next summer though, Parker shows back up, having run away from her abusive grandparents, and they welcome her with open arms. "But there's a better lock on the liquor cabinet," Alex warns her.
"You know I love a challenge!" she exclaims. Willie buys her a good set of lockpicks, and sets her up a whole set of locks and old safes he found in the garage, telling her to go mad. "Hopefully that keeps out of doing illegal stuff," he comments wryly.
"I'll start putting money towards bail," Alex replies.
The social worker tries to get her to go back to her family, but she makes an impassioned plea to stay here, and finally confesses what her family was actually like. They agree to let her stay while they investigate, but with her almost eighteen and the speed with which the system works, Alex is fairly confident she's theirs to keep.
Ollie turns up around Christmas, confessing that his uncle found it too hard to take care of him, and he'd loved it here, so could he stay please?
"Good thing we bought a big house," Willie said as he made up their guest room.
"I think we need to take our name off the fostering list though," Alex replied. "Just until one of these three find their own place."
"I'm okay with that," Willie stated. "I think we have our hands full with three anyways."
So in the end, Alex becomes a dad-even if only one of his three kids calls him that-Parker calls them Lexie and Wils, Ollie; Vati and Baba, and well he's sure Isla, who adores her big brother will pick that up before she hits four. But he doesn't mind-it's not what they call him, it's the sentiment behind it.
He's their dad no matter what, they've all agreed to that, given the Best Dad Ever mug collection he's got started. And that's the important part.
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tea-moon-ster · 1 year
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Random snoops with no context from fics I'm writing pt 2
I have way too much fun with these things, honestly
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Kasey cleared his throat. “Sick tape. At All Star. Logan said you brought it in the first place.”
Alex’s eyes darted on him, as if looking for something, but it was just for a second. Then the usual lively grin crept in.
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"Did he enjoy studying Romanticism in college?”
“Butter, I distinctly remember him crying over Romanticism in college. More than twice.”
“Perfect.”
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Slowly, things began to follow a logic. A contorted, full of exceptions and formulas logic, but a logic nevertheless. Helias felt the lump of anxiety in his throat gradually detangle as he followed Logan’s patient voice through the equations. At some point Leo joined them, with a mint tea and a kiss on the cheek for Logan, and a plate of oven-hot cookies that he placed in between them.
As the topics were covered and exercises began to be correct, Helias could feel a warm feeling expanding in his chest. The way both men had not hesitated to help, their untold understanding of each other and the kindness transpiring from every gesture. The way they always used we, we have a test tomorrow, we’re gonna try this method and see how it goes. Helias wanted that, someday. With a husband or two or three, it didn’t really matter. But he wanted that love and he wanted to help as he could.
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“Thanks, man. Hey, come on in.” He took the bag from Leo, depositing it on the kitchen counter while the other boy looked around. “Oh, it’s just us. Adele had a volleyball match at school, and they all went to cheer.”
Leo hummed, entering the kitchen. “Logan says she’s good. He used to go to her games. Wrote ‘em on the calendar.” He threw a small, helpless smile, that Cole returned.
“I go, too, sometimes.”
“That’s good.”
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“Mama, don’t you have your church meeting, like, right now?”
Eloise skipped a beat, and Wyatt snorted. “Oh, this is a good story.”
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Kasey didn’t know what to say, so he tilted his head and opened an arm for Alex to fit under, and kissed him, sweet and slow, because the weekend was long, and they had all the time in the world, and Alex talked about him to Russian bakers.
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A few days after, Remus was back home. Or better, he was back in his room.
Julian was home with Aunt Layla when they heard the door open, and his dad’s hushed voice. He sprinted in the hallway, colliding with his dad’s legs and screaming and crying at the same time. Daddy, you’re home, you came back, I missed you, where’s mom, where’s Rey, I wanna see Rey, Rey.
His dad had picked him up and eased him on his hip, with a quick kiss to his temple. “Shh, Jules, quiet. I missed you too, monkey, but we need to be quiet now.”
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“No”, he sobbed, “Y’all didn’t.”
“But we all did.” Finn left another soft kiss on his nose.
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“Look,” Kasey interrupted, stepping down the stool. He had a few inches on Fuckboy, and he hoped that that and a final warning would finally make him leave. He was really losing his patience. “Thanks for your…sense of civic duty, solidarity, or whatever, but I said we’re good. I won’t repeat it.”
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fruitcoops · 3 years
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Night Changes
This isn't based on an ask, but I've had some early-Cap ideas brewing and think about the first time the team heard him laugh a lot. His and James' friendship is so sweet in SW--the beginning of it must have been such a shock to them both. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!
So maybe James had bitten off more than he could chew. It wasn’t the first time, to be sure, but coaxing (read: drag kicking and screaming) his new teammate out of the carefully-constructed mosaic of scowls that made up his entire personality was proving to be a little more challenging than he previously expected. With most rookies, all it took was some elbow grease and overenthusiastic inclusion in group events to get them to open up—with his brand-new soon-to-be best friend, he had to handle things a little more delicately.
Sirius Black was a puzzle wrapped up in one of those freaky code-breaking machines from World War Two Lily liked to talk about. He was one of the best hockey players James had ever seen, but off the ice he seemed to shut down. The intense focus on his face smoothed out into almost perfect neutrality, and in the four months since he joined the Lions, he had never once smiled for real in front of the team. He sat in his stall and padded up in silence, then went out and kicked ass before following Pascal home like a living shadow.
Naturally, James took it as a personal mission to pry Sirius Black’s closed-off persona open like a stubborn oyster. He tried including Sirius in group events—the rookie went along with a quiet “yeah, sure”, but sat at the table and nursed a single drink for the entire night. He tried getting into friendly banter with him on the ice, but it was like Sirius had never joked with anyone in his life. Hell, he even tried finding him a girlfriend, which tanked harder than the goddamn Titanic.
“Rookie!” James shouted down the hallway.
Sirius jumped and turned around, obviously confused. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” James laughed, jogging over to toss an arm over his shoulders. “What’s up?”
“Not much.”
He waited for Sirius to continue, then rolled his eyes and gave him a friendly shake. “C’mon, man, how was your weekend? Has Dumo coerced you into being a stay-at-home babysitter yet?”
Sirius’ frown deepened. “What? I come with him to practice every day.”
Change tactics, change tactics— “Got any plans for Friday?”
James knew the answer, of course; it was always no or not yet or a simple shake of the head. If he was a less observant man, he would have assumed Sirius didn’t actually want to hang out with the team. But the longing looks toward their easy rhythm and the way he always tilted himself toward locker room conversations told a different story. “None yet,” Sirius said with a shrug.
James gave him a friendly slap on the back. “Good, ‘cause I’m having a party at my place and you’re not allowed to miss it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want you to be there, duh.” The bewilderment didn’t fade from Sirius’ face, but beneath it—well, maybe James was just seeing things, but he looked almost hopeful. He ruffled Sirius’ hair and headed for the locker room. “Friday at five, rookie! I’ll be waiting!”
--
The week passed in a slog of practices and cold weather. Sirius clammed up more and more as the party drew closer, but James didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered between the rest of them like he was analyzing a play. He would make one hell of a captain someday, if he could just relax a little.
“Hey, rookie, want a ride?” he asked when the big day finally arrived.
“Don’t you want to go home and set up first?” Sirius’ brow furrowed. For an eighteen-year-old kid, he was awfully thoughtful. James couldn’t wait to see him let loose a little. “I wouldn’t want to get in your way.”
“It’s a yes or no question,” he teased, poking the bit of exposed shoulder through the widening hole in Sirius’ under armor.
“I…” He faltered, then the corner of his mouth twitched up. It was the closest thing James had seen to a smile from him yet. One point for Potter. “Sure, Pots. Thanks.”
“No problem. Meet me at my car in five or so, yeah?”
“D’accord.”
“Oho, fancy French,” James laughed, turning back to unlace his skates.
It wasn’t until thirty seconds after Sirius left the room that he remembered he never told the rookie what his car looked like. Horrible, terrible visions of the poor guy wandering around the parking lot—or, god forbid, thinking James had left without him—flashed through his mind. It would undo everything he had been working so hard to build.
“Shit,” he hissed under his breath as he shoved his gear into his duffel with reckless abandon and hurried out of the locker room. His legs would be stiff from trying to run so soon after a grueling drill practice, but it was worth it to save his friend. “Rookie? Hey, Sirius, you still here?”
There was no response. James cursed again and made a beeline for the door to the parking lot. Please, God, don’t let him get lost. I need him to trust me.
“Oh, thank fuck,” he panted as he burst out onto the half-frozen concrete.
Sirius looked up from his phone with a strange expression. “Are you okay?”
“Thought I lost you for a sec.”
“You said to meet at your car, yes?” He glanced between James and the car in sudden worry.
“Yeah, yes, absolutely, I just—” He made an aborted gesture and dug his keys out of his pocket. “I realized I forgot to tell you which one is mine.”
Sirius blinked at him. “I know what your car looks like.”
“How?”
“Because you drive it here every single day and you gave me a ride three weeks ago.”
‘Dumbass’ went unsaid, but James could feel it hanging in the air. He coughed lightly. “Right. Anyway, you can toss your bag wherever and hop in the passenger seat. My place isn’t far from here.”
Sirius took his duffel as he unlocked the car and settled both in the trunk with more care than James’ poor, battered bag had ever seen in its life. That was another thing that confused him about Sirius Black—he was so careful. He walked quietly for someone so tall, and each movement seemed pre-planned.
Each movement, that is, until he tried to get in the car. “Uh, Pots?”
“That’s m—oh.” James covered his mouth to stifle his laughter as Sirius tried to fold himself into the passenger seat and failed miserably. “I’m sorry, my girlfriend was sitting there last. Uh, there’s a lever on your right—yeah, there, just give it a pull and—”
With a harsh ka-chunk, the seat slid all the way back. Both men froze. It took everything in James’ power not to burst out laughing at the deer-in-headlights shock on Sirius’ face.
“Yep, that one,” he managed. “Nice job.”
They drove in relative quiet—James chattered on about weekend plans and hummed to the radio while Sirius watched out the window with the occasional monosyllable response. It took James a bit by surprise how comfortable he was, even without a steady stream of banter. Sirius might have been stubborn and silent and determined to foil all James’ plans at getting him to socialize, but he was calming to be near, like an anchor on unsteady water. Despite his overall quiet air, he was obviously paying attention to every word that left James’ mouth.
“You’re a good guy, y’know that?” he said as they turned onto his street. Sirius glanced over in surprise. “Most people tune me out within, like, five minutes.”
“I’m a good listener.”
James opened his mouth to respond, then paused. “Was that—Sirius Black, was that a joke?”
Something akin to mischief—mischief!—crossed his face. “Maybe.”
“Were you roasting me?” James gaped at him. “Oh my god. The guys are never gonna believe this.”
“Probably not.”
“You sick bastard. They won’t believe me.”
“You can give it a shot,” Sirius said with a shrug as the engine turned off. Pieces began to connect in James’ head as he stared, incredulous, at the rookie he thought would never even crack a smile. Four months of work had not been wasted, as he had feared; every joke, every one-sided conversation, and every attempt to get Sirius involved had been seen and heard and taken to heart. When he thought about it, he wasn’t sure he had ever seen Sirius actively agree to something unless James asked personally.
“We’re friends,” he said aloud, too surprised and too happy to hold it in. Not friends in the way James was with the rest of their loud, over-the-top teammates, but friends all the same.
“Well, yeah,” Sirius said as if it was obvious.
James unbuckled his seatbelt and socked him lightly on the shoulder, barely suppressing a shriek of excitement. “Love you, man. Grab your shit, we’ve got a party to set up.”
----------------
As much as it pained James to say it, having someone around who was six-foot-three was a huge help. There was no blow to his pride as he dragged Lily’s stepstool out; no grudging acceptance that he simply couldn’t reach those last two inches on the wall. Instead, he could foist any and all responsibility on his brand-new best friend in the whole wide world and focus on the things that mattered, like putting anything breakable or important far away from the grubby hands of his inebriated teammates.
His success was still ringing in his ears when the guests finally arrived—throughout the evening, James rode the high of accomplishing his mission to pull Sirius Black into his tight-knit circle. Every minute of those four months was worth it.
Midnight came and went, and by one-thirty in the morning James’ cramped living room was packed with tipsy hockey players in a vague imitation of a circle. “Non, non, I’ve gotta good one,” Dumo said, hiccupping. The room fell quiet as he leaned forward. “What do you call a body of water with a chicken in it?”
“What?” Kasey whispered, starry-eyed like a kid at Christmas.
“A swimming pool.”
The room stayed quiet, and then someone started to laugh. Slowly, they all turned to the source of the noise, and James felt a ripple of shock roll through the team as Sirius snorted. “It’s a swimming pool,” he said around a smile, his accent thick from three drinks. He had a nice laugh; James could get used to hearing it. “Like—poule, like chicken?”
His whole face was alight with happiness. James wasn’t sure whether to cry or cheer. That’s what I’ve been waiting for, he thought. That look, right there. Sirius fit in among the group like a missing piece of their puzzle, snickering away as if he hadn’t been stoically silent a day in his life. His laugh was downright bubbly.
“I don’t think they get it,” Dumo said into the rim of his cup.
Sirius shook his head, trying to catch his breath. “D’accord, so—so ‘chicken’ in French is poule, yeah? So a chicken in a body of water is a swimming poule. Do you get it now?”
A few oh’s of understanding washed over them, but several people continued to stare. “Too drink for this,” Sergei grumbled, though James could see the smile pulling at his mouth as Sirius turned to him with bright eyes.
“But it’s funny!” Sirius protested, so earnest it made James’ heart hurt.
“I think it’s funny, rookie,” he assured him with a clumsy pat on the arm. “And it’s my house, so I say Dumo gets a point this round.”
Kasey hiccupped. “Hey, anyone who makes the rookie laugh gets points in my book. No offense, dude.”
“None taken,” Sirius said, though his cheeks were pink.
James nudged him with his shoulder as Talker started a knock-knock joke. “It’s okay,” he said under his breath.
Sirius picked at the label on his cup. “I know I haven’t been very social,” he muttered.
“It’s okay,” James insisted. “It always takes rookies a while to warm up, so we’re just glad you’re happy. I’m glad my best friend is having a good time at my party.”
A heavy silence fell between them as Sirius looked over, eyebrows raised. “Best friend?”
“What, like you didn’t see this coming?” James slung an arm over his shoulder. “Yes, you French-Canadian nerd, you’re my best friend. And that means I’m your best friend, and there’s no take-backsies.”
“What the hell is a take-backsie?” Sirius laughed. “Did you make that up?”
James grinned. He had the feeling this was the beginning of an excellent friendship.
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heyitssmiller · 3 years
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Mills!! I got a little burst of inspiration from your reblog this morning 👀 hope you like it!
Finn didn’t know how Remus and Sirius had persuaded the bakery to allow a whole hockey team to help them pick a cake.
He’d never been to a wedding cake tasting before, but he liked weddings, and he loved cake, so it seemed like an ideal situation.
He was holding Logan’s hand in his, swinging it back and forth giddily as they walked. Logan smiled at him. “Excited much?”
“So much. Aren’t you? It’s a wedding cake tasting, Lo!”
Logan laughed. “Not for our wedding!”
“Not yet,” Finn corrected with a kiss to Logan’s cheek.
He held open the door to the bakery for his boyfriend, and a small bell alerted their entrance.
“You made it!” Sirius exclaimed, waving at them over their teammates’ heads. “Come sit, we’ve got some options out already.”
“Hey, don’t start without me!” Finn shimmied his way to the table and into a seat. “What tastes good, guys?”
The team launched into a play-by-play of frosting and fillings, and Logan watched his boyfriend fondly. Then someone bumped into him. “Désolé,” he excused himself, turning to find a very tall, very cute blonde balancing a new tray of cake slices.
“Non, non, c'est ma faute, désolé. Salut, Je suis Leo.” The man smiled, and the dimples on his cheeks seemed to impossibly soften his expression.
“Je suis Logan. Tu veux de l'aide?” He gestured at the tray.
“Non, Je l'ai, merci.” Leo’s accent was different from his, but he liked it. It was slower - and sweeter.
“Êtes-Vous sûr? Je Sui's fort.” Logan winked at him, and Leo blushed.
“Oh, Je suis sûr que tu es.” Leo shifted the tray to his other arm, a shadow of a smirk crossing his face. “Mais Je l'ai. Excuse Moi,” he said as he squeezed by Logan to the table.
Logan followed behind him and sat next to Finn, who promptly handed him a fork.
Sirius put his arm around Remus. “Got any favorites yet, mon loup?”
“I’m thinking this red velvet one or this chocolate lava one.” Remus pointed.
Cheers went up from the team, obviously favoring those flavors too.
Leo unloaded the cakes he was carrying. “Well, hold your horses. I got some more options here for y’all.”
Finn looked up at him with wide eyes. “You’re like, an angel. A cake angel.”
Leo laughed. “Something like that. I’m Leo, I’ll be helping y’all out here today. Tell me which ones y’all like best.” He started naming each piece. “Now, we’ve got chocolate espresso, Oreo, strawberry shortcake, caramel crunch, coconut, and lemon raspberry.”
Remus surveyed the new choices gravely. “I’m not sure we’ll be able to choose.”
“That’s what we’re here for, Loops,” Kasey said as he picked up a slice of coconut.
Finn reached for a slice of caramel crunch and he and Logan dug in. “Uch, too sweet.” he pushed the plate more towards his boyfriend.
“Non? What are you talking about, it’s delicious.”
“Your teeth are gonna rot out of your head one day, Tremzy.”
Logan took a bigger bite of cake.
“Loops, Cap, this oreo one is heaven on a plate!” Talker whooped. “You gotta pick it.”
“Nuh-uh, small cake best,” Evgeni decided.
Jackson snorted. “You mean the shortcake?”
“Is same thing.”
Finn bumped his shoulder lightly against Logan’s with a grin. “You’re my favorite short cake.”
“Fuck off, O’Hara.”
The team kept eating, commenting on each, and arguing over which should be the winner. Eventually, only crumbs were left on some plates, and Finn decided to make room for more.
He stacked the dishes and smiled at Logan before wandering away from the group.
“Everything tasting okay?” Leo asked him at the counter.
“Everything’s tasting fantastic. I’m Finn, by the way. Where should I put these?”
“Oh, I can take 'em.”
“Did you make all these samples?”
Leo nodded.
“They’re really good. Like, really good.” That got a small, modest chuckle out of the blonde.
“Thank you, I try.” His voice had a hint of something southern, and Finn thought it suited him well.
“Where are you from?”
“Where are you from?” Leo countered.
“New York, baby, born and raised.” Finn spread his arms with a grin. “You ever been?”
Leo looked up from the dishes, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m from Louisiana. Gryffindor’s bout as far north as I can get without freezing.”
He laughed, hoping Leo didn’t see the blush creeping up his neck at the offhanded way he had just called Finn sweetheart.
“Harzy!” James startled him out of his thoughts with a clap on the shoulder. “Hanging out with the baker to try and smuggle some cake home?”
Finn jostled James sideways. “I’m making friends, Potts. Now, if that happens to come with some sweet benefits,” he glanced at Leo and smirked. “Who am I to say no?”
“Alright, alright, but let’s make friends later. The men of the hour need our final verdict.”
Leo watched as Finn was dragged back to the table. The redhead made his way back to his seat, and then turned to…
Kiss Logan?
Leo blinked.
Finn had kissed Logan, and then they’d smiled at each other.
What?
Leo didn’t know what was happening anymore. Wasn’t Finn just flirting with him? Wasn’t Logan? Sure, they were both super hot and definitely seemed out of his league socially, but he could flirt a little any day - except he hadn’t seen this plot twist coming at all. Honestly, he felt a little disappointed.
He watched the Lions methodically draw some sort of list or chart on a napkin about which cake to pick, and was so distracted that he didn’t even notice when one of them approached him.
“Your cakes, they’re very good.”
Leo smiled at the older man. “Thank you. You got a favorite?”
The man shrugged with a grin. “How can I chose?”
“I know the feeling,” Leo sighed.
The man’s eyes flickered for a second back to his team. “You don’t have a favorite?”
“Oh, I’ve got a couple,” Leo said absently as he dried the clean dishes. “Like you said, though. How can you chose?”
“But you can have more than one, at the same time, non?”
“Well, you know, some people like having more than one flavor. Not everyone, though. It can be tricky when what one person wants doesn’t line up with their partner wants.”
The man hummed thoughtfully. “It all works out eventually, though, non? Everyone ends up happy?”
Leo smiled as he stacked the last of the dishes. “I guess that’s true.”
“Dumo!” Sirius called. “What did you think of the oreo cake?”
The man Leo had been talking to gave Sirius a thumbs up before turning back with a smile. “See? Everything’s already working itself out.”
Oh my god oh my god oh my god
*SCREAMS*
Y’ALL COME READ THIS 😍😍😍
Characters belong to the lovely @lumosinlove 💕
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lumosinlove · 4 years
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Sweater Weather
part xvii
A/N:
Hey team!
I just want to pop in before the chapter to say a HUGE thank you to those who sent me letters!
Thanks to Hannah for your letter and O’Knutzy necklace! It’s AMAZING.
I want to thank Giana for your gorgeous letter (I’ll answer your questions in a separate post and I’m so glad you’re writing again!)
Thank you Kennedy for the painting, earrings, shark sticker (yay marine biologist!) and letter with the dried flowers :)
Thank you Alba for your SW art and your letter—yay to being there from the beginning!!
Thanks to Sophie for your kind words and letter!
Thank you Stephanie for your letter (and beautiful handwriting wow) and of course your gifts! I love the bookmarks and pin!
And last but certainly not least thank you to Alaena! I love that you included what asks you sent in XD and the STICKERS. I can’t decide if I want to put them on things or hang them all up on my bulletin board :) They’re incredible.
Thank you everyone, you’re all so thoughtful and kind!!
With SW ending soon (at least this fic, but this universe will never be over for me!) it is so incredibly lovely to hear what it means to you all. I feel so luck every single day that you guys love this team as much as I do. You thank me for this story, but I think the best part of fiction is that it expands and evolves differently in each mind it touches. Tumblr is such a freakin gift because I get a little glimpse into how you all think about these characters. So, I’m saying thank you to YOU. It’s truly a privilege to hear from you all. <3
If you feel like sending me anything, there is a link to my P.O. Box in my tumblr description! <3
Okay my mushy rant is done. Here’s chapter seventeen :)
~
Remus forgot his own birthday.
Lily had to remind him, bringing out a cake while he and Sirius had spent the day playing with baby Harry. Harry Potter. Harry James Potter.
The team adored him. Remus would never forget the sight of an entire team of hockey players, fresh off a plane, and crammed into a hospital room to peer at the small head of dark hair in Lily’s arms.
Minus one. Minus two, if what Sirius said was true, and Remus was part of the team. Remus had looked at the picture that Pascal had sent him from beside a sleeping Sirius and a heart monitor.
He had looked at the picture, and then at Sirius, and the relief doubled.
Four broken ribs. Bad, but it could have been worse. So much worse. A few days in Vegas to be monitored, just in case. Then, home.
Home for Remus’ birthday, home and in pain, but smiling none-the-less. Harry was a welcomed distraction from it all—the press, the hurt, the uncertainty. Lily seemed to know this without it needing to be said. Remus had told her she had enough going on without worrying about a cake, but Lily had just waved him off and cut them all large slices of the chocolate fluff.
Sirius, meanwhile, had somehow slipped a simple golden necklace around Harry’s neck, and when Remus looked down next, there it had been. A shining gold star pendant. The message had been clear. Sirius’ name-sake and Sirius himself—something to make a wish on.
Remus took a weeks off of work, all that he could.
Road-trips were a blur. Practices were anxious. The team was anxious.
March 27th.
Eight weeks. Sirius had been out for eight weeks. Resting, and stuck in his big house. Remus never thought he would be so thankful for Regulus.
“I’d rather be here than Slytherin any day, even though he whines like a baby when you’re gone.”
“Non,” Sirius would protest.
Regulus would raise an eyebrow. “Yeah.”
Remus would sneak into Sirius’ bedroom whenever he got home late, press one, two, three, four gentle kisses across his chest, and take his place on the other side of the pillow, carefully placed so that Sirius didn’t roll over during the night.
Sirius whined a good deal about that, too. And getting back on the ice.
“I just…I want to be back in case we make it to…” the playoffs.
The team was close. So close.
Sirius had only recently been allowed to come to the rink, suit and all, for home games to sit in the team box. It was strange, looking up from the bench at the jumbotron and seeing the image of Sirius there, standing with his arms crossed, sometimes with a beanie on, making his eyes look intense as he focused on the game in front of him. He was completely unreadable—to everyone but Remus. Remus could tell when he was happy with the team’s playing, when he was annoyed at their opponents. The internet was crawling with gifs of Sirius’ stormy eyes. Remus had more than a few saved, and they frequented the team group chat.
Remus looked up now, but all the jumbotron was showing was James, who had been taking lead in Sirius’ absence, talking quickly to Finn. Remus could see his own legs in the background.
The Stars were up 4-1, and there was ten minutes left in the second period. If they won this game, and they won the next game, they were in. And Sirius would be back the week after that—hopefully in time for the first playoff game, and not for an all-too-long summer vacation. Although, honestly, right then, Remus thought Sirius deserved either one. A chance at the Cup, or a break, a chance to rest up. To be together.
Leo was in net, Kasey resting up his thigh that continuously bothered him. Leo was skating a slow circle after the Stars scored yet another goal, tracing the blue crease with his stick. Remus could practically feel his furious calm.
“Big Rig may experience different weather up there, but he sure as hell has more gravity. Tremzy,” James knocked his helmet with his glove. “Don’t let him catch you, eh?”
“We gotta come back from this shit,” Finn said as he followed Logan over the boards. “For Leo. Leaving him out to dry out there. No.”
“For Cap,” Thomas said, coming back over the boards and breathing hard.
“Gotta put my baby in that silver crib!” James followed his wingers, a center for now.
“Cookie, Bluey, Ringer, be ready,” Coach called. “You’re on deck.”
“The oven is hot tonight,” Elias Cook said, pouring water over his neck.
“Stop saying that,” Kasey shook his head. “Jesus.”
“He can’t help the heat, Baby Bliz,” Thomas said.
Kasey just shook his head and looked back to the game.
Remus leaned in over Thomas’ shoulder. “That was a hit, Talkie, you good?”
“I’m hot,” Thomas said around his mouthguard.
Remus snorted, patting his shoulder pad. “You sure are.”
James lined up for the face off, Finn and Logan jostling against Benn and Perry. Logan dug his skates in when the ref dropped the puck and James whipped it back to him. Logan darted forward into the Stars’ zone, tailed closely.
“C’mon, Tremz,” Remus murmured.
Logan shot the puck off to Finn who got battered against the boards almost immediately by Benn, but got it smoothly to Olli, who sent it sailing back towards the Stars’ net. James was there behind the crease, Khudobin pushed out the wrong way—
James curled it in from behind and the Gryffindor goal horn blared.
“Fuck!” Thomas rose to his feet, knocking his stick against the boards. “Atta boy, baby-daddy!”
4-2 until the buzzer sounded and they were heading back down the tunnel. Remus glanced up at the screen one more time, and only just caught Sirius, smile plastered on as he was shown shaking the hands of a few older men. Remus suppressed a smile, and followed the team off of the ice for second intermission.
The locker room was subdued, and Sirius came in while Remus was crouched by Logan, taping up a jammed finger. He walked up to Coach first, leaning his elbows on the podium where he controlled the projector. Remus watched as he pointed to a few of the plays drawn up on the whiteboard, Coach nodding along.
“I can do this,” Logan said. “Leave with your moon eyes.”
Remus rolled his eyes, but tore off the tape and rose. “You’re all set. Try and keep it safe during third.”
“Oui,” Logan said, already sliding his headphones back on. Finn rose to get a fresh jersey, brushing a palm over the back of Logan’s neck on his way. Logan’s eyes followed him as he went to Leo next, who was sitting with his elbows on his knees in his stall, head down and airpods in. Finn squeezed himself in beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He leaned in to press a few kisses to his neck, murmuring soft words. Leo closed his eyes and pressed into him.
“Hey.”
Remus turned away from the two to meet Sirius’ eyes. He was smiling, a good break from the grimace Remus had become used to.
“Hi,” Remus said and pressed a hand over the familiar bandage, thick beneath Sirius’ suit and shirt. “Feeling okay?”
“I’m good,” Sirius leaned down, right in the locker room, and kissed him. His mouth was gentle, leisurely. “I feel good.”
Remus smiled into it, and took his hand. “Good. Come on.”
Sirius followed him, hand in Remus’, into the training office.
“Ten minutes until show time,” Remus said in the dim space and wrapped his arms around Sirius’ neck. “Are you really feeling okay? Been on your feet for a while, I’ve been watching.”
“Loops, I come back soon. I’m healed, I’ve started light exercise. It’s just a matter of insurance.” Sirius leaned into him, lips brushing his. “You seemed to think I was fine last night.”
Remus grinned. “Yeah, I definitely think you were fine last night.”
Sirius smiled, but then his expression turned more grave. He bit his lip, and ran his hands up and down Remus’ sides a few times, almost as if to comfort himself. “Fuck, I want this for the team so bad.”
Remus nodded. This was a conversation they had been having more often than not. “I know. And they know. You want it for them, but baby, they want it for you. They’re out there doing their fucking hardest for you. I don’t think you should start preparing for the worst. Not yet. Hockey’s a fast game.”
“We’re just—we’re so close. And fucking Grayback and…and if we win this game, we just have to beat Vegas again and we’re in. And I won’t get to fucking be out there because of fucking Grayback. And he’s not even suspended anymore—”
Remus kissed him, and Sirius mumbled for a moment into it before relaxing.
“Two games,” Remus said. “Home. Then Vegas. We beat Grayback, take a chance at the cup away from him. That’s the best we can do.”
Sirius looked at him for a long moment. “How are you so okay with all of this?”
“What’s the alternative? Obsessing over him? He’s not worth it. At all.”
They looked up at the sound of the team noisily making their way back down the tunnel, shouts and whistles, trying to psych themselves up for a come back.
“Third,” Remus said, then tucked his fingers into Sirius’ hair and kissed him again. “You’re competitive. I love you for it. But, baby, you’ve already beaten him. You beat him a long time ago.”
Remus kissed Sirius’ slowly smiling mouth again and again before rushing out the door.
Sirius made his way back up to the box. He watched the other members’ eyes follow him as he slipped back into the private room. There was an absurd array of food and drinks on a table, designed to impress members and investors. Sushi rolls and miniature hot dogs, popcorn in Lions colored cardboard boxes. Red-frosted cupcakes and lion head cake-pops. Sirius took a cupcake. He’d already beaten Grayback. Remus had just kissed him. His ribs had healed well. It all called for a cupcake.
“Really letting yourself off, eh?”
Sirius looked up at a man. He was wearing a white collared shirt under one of Sirius’ jerseys. Obviously a fan, obviously nervous, obviously important given the way one of the managers was looking at him talking to Sirius.
“No,” Sirius said plainly. “I’m having a cupcake.”
There were laughs from around him, as if Sirius was the funniest guy in the room. Sirius didn’t feel funny. This guy was making him miss puck drop.
The man held out his hand. “I’m Mike. Real doozy you slapped the world with.”
Sirius took it tightly, cupcake in his other hand. “I wasn’t aware that I did the slapping.”
“Probably broke a lot of hearts though.”
Sirius looked at Mike the way he looked at opponents on the ice. He watched him blink, watched his body language change.
“I was thinking about my own heart. Désloé, how do we know each other again?”
“Oh. Well—”
“Right,” Sirius nodded. “Enjoy the game.”
Sirius walked towards the box’s edge, unwrapping his cupcake. He could see the entire stadium from up here, the teaming mass of red and gold, the team readying themselves on the ice. A tiny glimpse of Remus on the bench. Coach was gesturing and talking. He watched his own face on the jumbotron as he took a bite of the dessert. He found the camera and flashed it a thumbs up, waving his arms upwards and listening to the crowd’s cheers roar in time with his hands. He caught glimpses of rainbow flags in the crowd, signs with number twelve decked out in the colors. It was a nice contrast to the signs that Sirius saw on his way into the stadium. Defaced number twelve jerseys, slurs, people jeering at his window as he drove through security. Interesting, to see who was inside, and who was not.
The puck dropped and James won it. James who, despite them being down, was hot tonight. No doubt riding the adrenaline of Harry and Lily at home, of being named temporary captain, of being so close to what they all dreamed of.
Sirius couldn’t think it, not even in his head.
The puck seemed to be frozen in the central zone, both teams battling too hard. A stalemate in aggressive trench warfare. Back and forth, back and forth with no progress. Sirius crumpled the cupcake wrapping between his fists and cupped them together, shoulders tense.
“Allez…” he whispered to himself.
The camera was on him again, and he looked stony even to himself. He raised his eyes to it and pointed a finger down at the game. Show that, he mouthed.
The Lions goal horn blared. Logan had scored.
Sirius knew the camera caught his reaction on camera. He put his fists up, relief bubbling out of him in a shout.
“Allez, Tremzy!”
The crowd was going wild. Finn slammed Logan into the boards in celebration and the jumbotron replayed the beautiful tip-in. 4-3. Things weren’t so impossible anymore.
Sirius squeezed the wrapper in-between his hands again and set his elbows on the ledge.
“Play Kuny, play Kuny…” Sirius muttered under his breath. He would match Oleksiak. Sure enough, Coach sent Kuny’s line over the boards a second later. Nado and Evan Kane followed him, Fox and Sunqvist on defense.
“No power plays,” Sirius prayed. “Come on, Nado, no stupid penalties.”
“Do you always talk to yourself in French while playing?”
Sirius stiffened. Mike was back.
“Non, parfois je parle en russe.”
Mike blinked. “What?”
“Laisse-moi tranquille, homme intrusif,” Sirius grinned sharply. “I said only sometimes. Usually on the bench.”
That seemed to make Mike happy. “Hey, you’re really superstitious, right?”
“Yes.”
“Like what?”
Like being alone in the team box, Sirius thought bitterly. Like getting a blowjob from my boyfriend before a game, you know, that doozy I slapped the world with?
“There’s a lot of them,” Sirius said. “If you’ll excuse me, I really have to watch this.”
Mike nodded quickly. “Oh, of course, of course.”
Sirius shifted away a little when he didn’t move, tried to focus on the ice. The puck had dropped and it was on Evgeni’s stick. He was carrying it quickly up the ice, seeming to cut through the players with his broad shoulders. Sirius imagined he could hear his deep voice, calling for Nado to look alive. The pass connected, but Seguin tapped it out of Nado’s hands from behind and sent it up the ice quickly to Benn.
“Merde,” Sirius said. The Lions were changing and then it was Pascal’s line with Elias and Brady, Olli and Timmy on defense. Benn managed to get around Olli, and then—
Leo was pushing far out of the crease and aggressively jabbed the puck right from Benn’s stick and onto Pascal’s waiting one. Leo slid back into the crease like a water snake. The stadium was chaos.
Knutty, Knutty, Knutty, was the chant. It filled the air itself. The jumbotron showed the bench briefly, Logan and Finn and Thomas grinning up at the stands. Pascal still had the puck.
His solid form darted up a clear channel, catching the Stars in a slow shift change. He was in front of the goal, Sirius squeezed the wrapper between his palms. Pascal faked by lifting his left leg, Khudobin went for it, and Pascal slid it right between his pads, neat and tidy.
They tied the game. They tied up the game. Sirius pushed back from the railing with a long breath as a TV break began. The Lions ice crew came out to some pop song and began their sweep. Sirius looked down at his bench and yearned to be with them. He rubbed his hand absentmindedly over his ribs. They were healed. He had a few more sessions with Remus left and then he would be back. He would be back.
He thought of the hit.
He hadn’t known what was wrong. There had been no air in his lungs. But Remus had been his first thought. He knew who hit him, he had seen his face before he hit the ice.
Remus.
This would hurt Remus.
“Wait, has a what?”
His own voice over the jumbotron drew him out of his thoughts. It was a pre-recorded interview, one of the fluff ones that they played for fun to entertain the crowd.
Marlene’s voice from off screen repeated the question. “Which one of your teammates has a life-sized Stormtrooper, R2-D2 and C-3PO action figure in their apartment?”
They showed his own face again, laughing and thinking. “Oh. Um.”
It switched to James, arms crossed and actually thinking about it. He pushed his glasses up his nose and laughed. “I don’t know, Finn and Leo? That seems like a weird Harzy thing.”
It cut to Finn. “That’s not weird. I wish it was me. I’ll convince Nut, don’t you worry.”
Pascal looked unimpressed, sitting easily in the chair. “There is only one person this could be, and that person spent the first two months of his time in the U.S. with only the phrases, You’re my only hope, and I’m your father, to his vocabulary. Oh, and the word no.”
Sunny was laughing. “I know exactly who this is.”
Nado looked pained. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve seen Star Wars now? Do you have any idea?”
Finally, the screen cut to Evgeni, smiling, tongue jokingly between his teeth. “Good for English, you know?” He held up his hands. “I am Force.”
The video ended with a swoop of the Lions’ logo, and even Sirius could help but smile. There was eight minutes left in the period.
Eight minutes to pull ahead.
They would do it.
The Stars had called a time out, and so James, Logan, and Finn were milling around the ice together, keeping their muscles warm. Leo was looping around the goal.
They were ready.
Seguin faced off against James, both of them leaning forward.
Seguin won it.
There was a fleury when James was pinned to the boards by Oleksiak, but Logan was there to steal the puck from beneath his feet.
The clock had dwindled down to four minutes when a whistle blew with a slashing penalty on the Stars. Pascal and Thomas joined James on the ice for the power play unit.
Sirius could feel the energetic restlessness of the crowd. They all knew what this could mean. Sirius let out a shaky breath and looked at the wrapper in his hands. He thought of Remus. Remus, and his long list of superstitions. But what pulled him through had been himself. Sirius held it anyway, but he held his Lions closer.
They were ready.
They set themselves up in a triangle, a tic-tac-toe, in front of the Stars’ goal. The sent it to each other quickly, boxing the defensemen in. Finally, James got it to Evgeni, who slapped it with a one timer and—
The goal horn. 00:24 seconds remaining.
The crowd was already singing with victory. The Stars tried for one last push, but Leo snatched the puck right out of the air with his glove.
00:03.
Done.
Sirius pushed his hands through his hair in relief. “Merde.”
Sirius was out of the box before anyone could even think about congratulating him, jogging down the private staircase and towards the locker room. He made it to the player’s hallway before he was stopped by a smiling Alice.
“I know, I know,” she said. “Can we just get a few questions in?” She gestured over to where Marlene was standing with a microphone, talking to a dark haired girl holding a camera. Alice raised an eyebrow. “It’s only Marlene.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “Sure.”
Alice patted his arm. “Congrats, by the way.”
“Thanks,” Sirius said and shoved his hands into his pockets while looking at Marlene expectantly.
“Okay, McKinnon, let’s go.”
Marlene scoffed. “Nice to see you, too. Hi Cap, how are you? Ribs, mind, in general.”
Sirius relaxed a little. If he had to do interviews, he preferred Marlene above all else. “I’m healing well. Ready to get back on the ice.”
Marlene narrowed her eyes at his short response and he smiled. That made her smile. Those were rare for the press, and she had just caught one.
“Any thoughts you want to share about how the majority of the world is responding to you lately? By my calculations, you’re quite the icon and inspiration—not that you weren’t before of course.”
Sirius laughed a little. “Oh yeah? Um,” he cleared his throat. When he looked up he could see Remus down the hall a little ways. He was talking to Kasey who was still fully dressed. Remus looked beautiful and strong and…And Sirius just… He hated questions like this but he just—
“Someone is always going to find something wrong with you,” Sirius said. “With what you say. With what you do. My job is not to please, you know? My job is to play hockey, sure, but, really, my job is to be the person I want to be, do the things I believe are right, do the things I love. With the people I choose to love. I think that’s everyone’s job,” Sirius found Remus beyond the cameras again, along with everything he had ever wanted. He looked back to Marlene. “That took me a long time to learn. They say, have a thick skin and an open heart. Before, all I had was a thick skin. Now, I’ve found someone who can help me have both. I didn’t even realize how much I needed that.”
~
“And that was an interview with a surprisingly heartfelt Captain Sirius Black,” Lee Jordan broke off in a laugh. “Earlier this game we also got to see him telling the cameras, show the game, show the game. Pointing down at the ice. Outstanding. That’s a layer of the Captain that I don’t think we see very often. From what I hear, the dude’s funny, though, Dean. Now, let’s take a look at the Lions’ top scorers. With the Captain out, that would be Logan Tremblay, James Potter, and, that’s right, one of the oldest in the league, Pascal Dumais…”
“What is that?” Remus said, appearing in front of Sirius where he was waiting in the PT room and drawing his attention away from the television. Remus peered at his hands.
“Oh,” Sirius felt himself flush as he looked down at the cupcake wrapper, more like a tiny ball of oily paper now. “I was holding this when Logan scored, so…”
Remus laughed. “So, you had to hold it the entire period. And now it’s practically falling apart. You’re not keeping that.”
“But it—” Remus grinned as Sirius surrendered the wrapper. “Fine.”
“Hey,” Remus said, and Sirius looked up. Remus was flushed from the game, eyes bright with the win. He leaned up and kissed him hotly, then softly. Sirius had to blink a few times when he pulled away. 
“You always had an open heart,” Remus said. “That’s obvious to anyone who knows you. Who loves you.”
Sirius smiled. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Someone cleared their throat. “Sorry…”
They looked up to see Kasey, now in just some basketball shorts. “Hi.”
“Hey, Bliz, I’m ready for you,” Remus said, then looked up at Sirius. “I can get the subway back if you wanna go home to Regulus.”
“Non, non, I’ll wait,” Sirius said, and bumped fists with Kasey on his way out.
Remus smiled after him for a moment, then at Kasey. “So, thigh?”
Kasey nodded, eyes shifting downward, then back to Remus again. “Yeah.”
Remus paused, brows drawing together. “Kasey, are you—”
“Hey, Kase?” Natalie appeared in the doorway. She had her long blonde hair drawn back in two dutch braids and a Blizzard jersey on over a gray sweatshirt with the hood spilling out. Her smile wasn’t as bright as usual.
“Hi, Remus,” she said. “Baby, I’m gonna go say hi to Marlene. Just text me when you’re all set okay?”
“Hi, Nat,” Remus said slowly.
Kasey nodded, accepting a kiss on the cheek. “Okay.”
He hopped up on the table and lay on his back while Remus got ready.
“Just the thigh that’s bothering you?” Remus said carefully. He pushed Kasey’s shorts up his thigh to get at the tense muscle and carefully began kneading the muscles. The post-game played softly on the television while Remus waited for Kasey to speak.
“Will it always be like this, Loops?” Kasey asked quietly after a few moments.
Remus looked up at where Kasey was reclining on the padded table with his fingers across his chest. Remus, if he was being honest with himself, had been waiting to have this conversation with Kasey for a while.
Kasey looked back at him. “It acts up more often than not. I can’t play if I can go down, I…I can’t—”
“I know,” Remus said softly. “I know, Kase. Look.” Remus moved down to his knee, smoothing the muscle firmly. “This injury…it’s a tough one. It takes a long time to heal. It takes time and endurance. So, my answer is no. It won’t always be like this. It just takes time.”
“What if I don’t have time?” Kasey’s voice was even quieter. “I’m a goalie. Sometimes we have less—”
“Kase,” Remus looked at him. “You’re twenty six years old. You do.”
Kasey groaned as Remus pressed his knee out to the side, loosening the muscle slowly. “Fuck.”
“We’ll do some strength training next practice, okay? We’ll make a schedule, I’ll work with you. And we have a day off tomorrow. I’ll send you some videos to do at home if you want, or you can rest.” Remus smiled a little. “Or Natalie can help you stretch.”
Kasey smiled and it seemed easier. “When you say stretch…”
Remus laughed. “That’s the point. Look, you will heal, but you also have to enjoy the rest of your life. Hockey’s everything, and not everything at the same time. I’m gonna give you some salve, okay? And then you’ll be good for the night. Rest.”
Kasey nodded. “How’s Cap doing?”
“He’s okay,” Remus said, warming up the muscle salve between his palms. “Wants to be out there with you guys.”
“We want him there,” Kasey sat up on his elbows and watched Remus’s hands. “What about baby Black?”
Remus snorted. “Good. I mean, happy he’s here. The whole Snake runaway thing is sort of up in the air. The Snakes have their lawyers on his ass about his contract, and Minnie thinks he might have to go public with some pretty horrific stories to prove that they breached it.”
“Horrific stories…”
Their eyes met somberly. “I know.”
“Jesus,” Kasey sighed as he sat up. He pushed his hair out of his face and looked down at his leg. “That feels better. I…I feel better.”
“Good. Try and stay off it as much as you can, okay? Nat loves you to death, don’t tell me she won’t get you what you need.”
“Oh, she will,” Kasey smiled and eased himself carefully off the table. “Thanks, Loops.”
“Bliz,” Remus said, and Kasey turned to look back. “You have time and life and everything else. Really.”
Kasey nodded. He smiled a serious sort of smile. “You’re right. I get in my head.”
“You’re a goalie. That’s part of the job.”
Kasey laughed, flipped him off, and closed the door behind him.
Sirius was waiting for him on one of the couches in the player’s lounge, eyes closed and beanie on his head. His shoulders looked broad in his dark winter coat and suit.
“Hi, handsome,” Remus said, leaning over Sirius with his hands resting against the back of the couch on either side of his head.
Sirius’ eyes opened and he smiled. “Salut.”
“Ready to go home?”
“Regulus says he’s out with Leo. Day off and all that,” Sirius tilted his chin up, silently asking. “House to ourselves.”
Remus pushed himself back upright. “Let’s go.”
~
“I’m glad Regulus had Leo,” Remus said as he stood in Sirius’ massive but mostly empty closet. He picked out one of Sirius’ t-shirts and sweatpants and pulled them on. “They’re both eighteen and both have a lot of pressure to deal with, even if it’s, you know, different pressure. It’s nice.”
“Yeah, I’m happy,” Sirius said as he came back into the bedroom from the bathroom. His torso looked lean in his his sweatpants, the bruising finally faded. "And thankful to Leo. He didn’t have to reach out, you know?” Sirius collapsed onto the bed with a smile, bouncing a little. “Now, let’s stop talking about my brother.”
“Nope, no bed yet. Come on.”
“Loops.”
“You want to play next week, you do this with me now. Let’s go.”
Sirius let Remus wrangle him downstairs and into the gym. Sirius put on some music and then Remus lay him out in just his sweatpants on a soft mat and led him through the breathing exercises and some of the light core work that was on his recovery plan. Sirius kept his eyes on Remus the entire time, the two of them laughing as his hands wandered to Remus’ hips. Remus had to admit that, now that Sirius wasn’t in pain, watching him spread out on the mat like this got him. His softly moving chest, his hard muscles, the shadowed curl of his hair on his temples. He let it get him, there in the privacy of Sirius’ basement. Sirius noticed.
He smiled the next time he raised up in a crunch, abs working, hands behind his head. “Maybe I could use some incentive.”
Remus raised an eyebrow from where he was by Sirius’ bent knees. “Oh?”
Sirius pushed up and held there until Remus bent so he could kiss Remus lightly, then lowered back down.
The next time he came up, he brought Remus down with him. He parted his knees so Remus could settle between them. Sirius’ chest was warm from the exercise, his heartbeat even. Remus sighed into his kisses.
“We should go easy, we have the party at Pascal’s tomorrow—”
“I’m perfect,” Sirius said, and rolled them gently so that Remus was on his back now, Sirius hovering over him. “I feel perfect. I want you so bad.”
It had been a bit of a challenge. They’d been on strict no-sex orders, given to them rather sheepishly by Sirius’ doctor while he was still in the hospital. It had been a lot of Remus trying to sneak a quick jack-off in the shower, trying not to make things harder on Sirius, only to come out of the shower to a glowering, turned-on boyfriend.
Getting the all clear had been spine-melting, and it had sort of been that way ever since. Still, sex was few and far in between. Regulus was in the house more often than not, and even if it was a big house, Remus didn’t think it was the best idea to invite him to stay only to sneak off to Sirius’ bedroom.
Regulus had received the message quickly though, and told them clearly enough when he would be out for a while.
Remus shuttered when Sirius’ hardening cock dragged across his own.
“Fuck, are we really doing this in the gym?” Remus panted out a laugh. He was already so turned on that it ached. His dick pressed insistently against the band of his sweatpants, and when Sirius next dragged his hips down, the loose fabric pulled away to expose the shiny head of his cock. Remus moaned. “Sirius, fuck…fuck, I—”
“No lube,” Sirius said. “Shit, I…”
Remus just pushed Sirius’ sweatpants down over his ass, making his cock fall free, bobbing and stiff, and tugged his own sweatpants down until his hips and thighs were exposed. Remus pushed their hips together, mouth open. It was plenty wet, Sirius cock already beginning to shine at the head.
Sirius fucked his hips forward steadily against Remus, the friction making him squeeze his eyes shut. Remus felt Sirius’ lips against his neck, and wrapped his arms around him. He felt sort of frantic with it, lazily happy with how much he loved this.
“Love you,” he murmured as Sirius pushed forward with a well-aimed thrust. “Fuck, baby, yeah…”
“Not bad for a core workout,” Sirius said into his skin.
Remus laughed, even as pleasure sparked at the edges of his vision. His cock felt heavy and sensitive against his stomach.
“Don’t overdo it,” Remus said. “Here.”
Remus pushed at Sirius’ shoulders until Sirius groaned and rolled onto his back.
“I’m fi—”
His complaints died on his tongue when Remus pressed up all along his side, cock trapped between them, and wrapped a hand around Sirius. He kept his strokes even and tight, running his fingers down over his full balls, the vein on the underside. Sirius was hot in his hand, precome thin and leaking over the back of Remus’ hand. Remus kissed Sirius, tongue sliding into his mouth, and more heat trickled over his fingers. Remus felt like he could come just like that. It was almost—surreal. He was so turned on, especially for not even having done that much. He had just been taking Sirius through his exercises one moment, and then Sirius had taken him between his thighs and he was done for.
“Re, let me,” Sirius breathed, and his fingers found his own cock for a moment before wrapping around Remus’ shoulders to reach behind him, rubbing over the swell of his ass.
Heat pooled in Remus stomach and made his hand stutter, gripping Sirius tighter. “Fuck, yes…”
Sirius’ fingers were soft and slow as they worked their way inside of Remus. It was a little dry, but Remus let his temple pitch forward onto Sirius’ chest as Sirius fingered him. He stroked Sirius slowly, dazed by the contrast between his own pale fingers and the darker, flushed skin of him. He wished he could see Sirius’ hand.
“There,” Remus gasped suddenly. “Ah—”
Sirius pressed him in gentle, slow strokes. It was different, being touched there and not his cock. Remus pushed into the feeling, his cock trapped and still between them. It wasn’t enough to do much except let Sirius’ fingers build a painfully slow pressure inside him. His eyes were lidded as he stroked Sirius’ cock until it was rock hard in his palm. He threw a leg over Sirius’ thighs so that Sirius could push into him deeper, finger curving against his prostate.
Remus just moaned.
“I’m gonna come soon, mon loup,” Sirius panted, hips straining up once, twice. “Loops—”
Remus sped up his hand, swiping his thumb over the swollen head, and then Sirius’ hips jerked. Come dripped lazily over Remus’ fingers, more and more of it, in thick white pulses. Remus’ dick throbbed at the sight, at Sirius’ fingers, tense from his orgasm, pressing hard inside of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them, gasping. His hand had stilled against the base of Sirius’ cock, and he could feel him pulsing there, cock throbbing through his orgasm. Sirius’ head had fallen back against the mat, his chest rising and falling quickly beneath Remus’ chest. It was a mess on his hips and Remus’ fingers.
“Fuck. Oh—” Sirius moaned as Remus started stroking him again. His cock strained valiantly, but it was spent and softening. “C’mere, Loops, fuck.”
Sirius turned into Remus, fingers twisting inside of him. It gave him a better angle, and when he moved next, he doubled down.
Remus could only hold onto his shoulders, pliant against the mat.
“Can you come like this, sweetheart?” Sirius said gently. “Just on my fingers?”
Remus already felt like he was coming. There was sweat on his temples and chest, and he felt Sirius’ kiss the salt away. His cock was taught against his stomach, an angry red now. Sirius stroked inside of him evenly, but in quicker time. Remus didn’t even have time to catch one breath before the next was stolen.
“I’m coming—” Remus said, but he knew he wasn’t. Not yet. But he was sure he was. He groaned and Sirius kissed his exposed throat, his back arched up, pressing down on him.
“C’mon, baby,” Sirius said. “Fuck, look at you.”
“I’m coming,” Remus said again, voice breaking, and the calloused pad of Sirius’ finger pressed against him hard, and then he really was. It tore out of him forever, spilling against Sirius’ tan skin. Sirius cradled Remus against him, saying soft things in French until Remus could open his eyes again. Sirius took Remus’ dick gently in his hand, easing a last shiver of pleasure from him. Remus smiled a little deliriously and curled closer to his warmth.
“Bath?” Sirius whispered.
“We gotta clean this,” Remus laughed. “Fuck, I feel like my brain is gone.”
“I’ll clean,” Sirius said, and tilted Remus’ head up for a kiss. “Go get the hot water going.”
That sounded fine to Remus.
~
Lily opened the door to Pascal’s house with Harry cradled in her arms.
“Sirius fucking Black I swear to god you triggered my labor.”
“You say that to me every time you see me.”
She stepped aside. “And will continue to do so.”
Remus stepped through the door first and took Harry from her, holding him close so that Sirius could press a kiss to one of his chubby cheeks. He wasn’t heavy, but Sirius wasn’t suppose to lift very much. Harry smiled at him and Remus watched as Sirius smiled back, murmuring in French.
“Where’s Regulus?” Lily asked.
Sirius shrugged, still making faces at Harry.
“Out with Leo,” Finn’s voice suddenly said. He was sitting on the couch with Logan tucked up against his side. “Yeah, uh-huh, Leo’s replacing us with your brother.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “That’s not true.”
Finn raised his eyebrows, as if to say he wasn’t so sure about that. Logan nudged his jaw with his nose until he pressed a light kiss to his lips. Remus smiled.
He could see the long road that was behind them and the long road ahead at the same time. It was better that way.
Most of the team was there. The living room had a huge banner that read Congratulations Logan! and beneath it a smaller one: for finally moving out of my basement! 
Sirius laughed hard. “I didn’t get one of these!”
Pascal shook his head from where he was playing cards with Sergei. “I knew you would leave eventually. This one, I wasn’t so sure.”
“Hey,” Logan groaned.
Remus laughed and snapped a picture of Sirius in front of it.
“Can I have that for my instagram?” James asked.
“Baby, too much instagram, okay, I love you so much, but…” Lily winced.
“But I have a baby now,” James stood to Remus’ other side, and then Remus had two fully grown hockey players making baby talk surrounding him. “That’s what instagram’s for. Isn’t it, my little lion?”
Harry laughed delightedly at his father.
Kasey and Natalie were sitting on the couch beside Logan and Finn. Natalie had Kasey sitting between her legs on the floor, fingers running through his hair as she talked to them. Kasey seemed to be talking very seriously about something with Katie, who seemed to be wearing three princess dresses at the same time. She was sitting in his lap and he was nodding along, responding whenever she waited for him to.
Remus handed Harry back to Lily when they went into the kitchen to get drinks. Celeste was in the kitchen with Anya, and Thomas seemed to be helping, too, along with Noelle.
When Sirius said he was surprised to see her, she waved him off, taking a sip of her wine. “I’m the resident Tremblay sister representative. We were all pretty worried about Lolo for a minute there, but…” she smiled. “If only we knew. Not one boy, but two. Plus,” she looked over at Thomas, who was focusing intently on what Celeste was saying and stirring on the stove. “I have my own reasons.”
“Talkie’s a good one,” Remus said. “You lucked out there.”
“Right?” Noelle laughed, then nodded at Sirius. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”
“Me too,” Remus and Sirius said at the same time.
Noelle laughed again, and then her expression became more mild. “And…” she looked towards the living room, where they could distinctly hear Logan’s laugh. “I know none of this was easy for you two, but I’m happy you were there for my brother. Maybe not in the way you wanted to be…in the way any of us wanted…but you showed him it was okay to be who he is. I think Finn would have gotten to him eventually but I think it would have taken a lot longer. I’m glad he’s happy now. And that’s largely thanks to you two.”
“The delicious smells of success,” Thomas suddenly sang out, slightly off-key. “Breathe in the delicious smells of success, hey, Christmas, come over here and look at this goodness.”
Noelle laughed. “Oh, I’m already looking at it.” She sent Remus and Sirius a last smile. “Anyway, I said my piece.”
Remus laughed as she returned to Thomas’ side, tucking herself against him.
“That was sweet,” he said and rubbed his hand gently over Sirius’ chest, sort of out of habit by now. He could feel the bandages there.
Sirius kissed Remus’ temple. “Yeah.”
“Sirius, mon cher,” Celeste kissed Sirius’ cheek when she came over from the stove. “You are okay? Of course you are, Remus is with you. No more big empty house and take out meals, oui?”
Sirius laughed. “Way to sell me out.”
Remus snorted. “Like everyone didn’t already know.”
Celeste laughed. “C’est vrai.” She sighed, patting Sirius’ chest, near his ribs. “I am still so angry about Grayback, honestly.”
“Aren’t we all,” Pascal said, coming over. Celeste wrapped an arm around him.
“You and me both,” Sirius said, taking a sip of his wine. “But it’s over. I have to let it be over or else I’ll go insane.”
“You’ll be back out there soon,” Pascal said.
Sirius smiled. “Only thanks to Loops.”
Remus rolled his eyes. “It’s you who does the hard part.”
Pascal laughed. “As if getting this boy to do what he’s told isn’t the hard part.”
Remus laughed. “Hm, true.”
“Celeste, the goodness looks ready to me,” Thomas called over from the stove.
Celeste laughed and leaned back towards the doorway to the living room.
“Dinner, everyone!” she called.
It only took a few moments for the kitchen to become crowded with people lining up with their plates.
“Hey,” Evgeni bee-lined between them for the wine bottle, but stopped on the way to give Remus a kiss on both cheeks. “Get Captain laid, no more grumpy.”
“Kuny,” Remus said.
Nado, behind him as always, cracked up. Sirius laughed, too.
“Merde, Kuns,” he said. “Subtle.”
“Very,” Regulus’ wry voice suddenly said from behind them as he and Leo entered the kitchen.
“Just in time!” Celeste said, handing them both plates. “Where have you boys been?”
Leo shrugged. “Just—hi, sweetheart,” he cut off as Finn wrapped his arms around his waist. “Just touring around Gryf. Got lunch.”
“Yeah, Sid’s is the best,” Regulus said.
Sirius spluttered mid way through serving himself dinner. “I told you that.”
“So?”
“So, you believe Leo and not me?”
Leo grinned. Regulus shrugged.
Remus spent most of dinner holding baby Harry and watching Sirius tickle his tummy while he laughed. James looked ready to cry at the sight. Lily took him back to be fed when they moved to sit around the living room with dessert, but Remus didn’t mind. He just leaned back into Sirius’ chest, happy with his team around him.
Logan looked red in the face from all the jokes implying why he was so eager to move in with Leo and Finn. Adele had stuck close to him all evening, sitting on his free side. Logan had his arm around her. Remus had overheard him assuring her that he’d be over to visit all the time, which he thought was unbearably sweet. Leo looked resigned and amused to the teasing, and Finn just looked thoroughly pleased, sitting between them with an arm around each.
Remus felt a kiss being placed on his neck.
“Maybe we could celebrate more than one move tonight,” Sirius said into Remus’ ear.
Remus held Sirius’ arms across his chest, turning to look at him. “What?”
Sirius just smiled and pulled Remus out of the living room and into the butler’s pantry of the kitchen. He took Remus’ hands in his warm ones. “You should move in with me.”
Remus took a slow breath in.
Sirius slid his hands up Remus’ forearms. “I want you to move in with me.”
“Baby…”
“Besides,” Sirius smiled. “Your mom will be coming to town soon with any luck,” Sirius knocked gently on the wooden cupboard behind Remus’ head with a smile. “Better not to disappoint her.”
Remus laughed, reaching up to press his hands to Sirius’ cheeks. “Better not.”
Sirius leaned down to nudge their noses together. “Live with me. You sort of already do, and I…I love it so much. I love having you near.”
Remus nodded. “Yes.” He kissed him once, and again, and again. “Yeah, I want to.”
Sirius smiled into their next kiss, and that was how Logan found them.
“Alors,” he said, hands up. “Sorry. Just got sent in for some more wine. God knows I need it.”
Remus flushed and laughed as Logan reached down for a bottle from the wine fridge.
“Carry on.”
“Oops,” Sirius snorted when they were alone again.
“I’ll have to get a car,” Remus mused as Sirius hugged him against his chest. Sirius lived just outside the city center. “No more subways and city walking from out here.”
“I’ll buy you whatever car you want.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Sirius squeezed him closer. “It’s what I said. I want to. What else do you want? Tell me.”
Remus smiled and tilted his chin up to look at him. “You.”
~
It had been hard, saying goodbye to Sirius for the short road trip to Vegas. It was strange going without him.
“Force him to keep doing his exercises,” Remus had told Regulus firmly.
“Will do,” Regulus saluted.
“Miss you already,” Sirius had said softly when he dropped Remus off at departures.
“Just a few days,” Remus kissed his across the seats, and then kissed his new star necklace. “They’ll win.”
“Shh,” Sirius laughed gently.
Remus just smiled. “You’ll see."
Remus was in the visitor’s PT room, making sure it was well-stocked. Just in case. Moody was already in there, leaning against the table and watching the pre-game. He greeted Remus with a nod, and Remus pulled out a box of supplies to sort through while listening.
“—first time the Lions will be on the ice with Fenrir Grayback who, as we all know, received a two game suspension after a hard hit on Lions Captain Sirius Black, breaking four of his ribs. We know that the Lions organization was especially not happy about the lack of severity shown by the League. I suppose we may see what the players have to say about this tonight. I expect the Lions will push especially hard for a win in honor of their wounded Captain—not to mention that winning this game would secure them a spot in this year’s Stanley Cup play-offs. Marc-André Fleury is back with his rainbow stick tape, his second time showing support for Black. It’s nice to see. Let’s take a look at who else we’re watching tonight. First, we’ll talk about Logan Tremblay…”
“One game,” Moody grumbled. “One game.”
“One game,” Remus repeated. “Sirius really wanted to be out there tonight.”
“I don’t think Grayback knows what’s coming for him now that he isn’t,” Moody laughed gruffly. “You saw those boys when he took Sirius out. They’re fresh out of a day-off now. Rested, furious, determined.” Moody tilted his head. “I feel good things in my leg.”
Remus laughed. “Well, thank God.”
Sirius was sitting with his brother on the large, leather couch in his TV den, anxious and waiting for the second period to resume. The commercials were muted and he was waiting for Regulus to work his way up towards saying whatever it was that he was holding back. Sirius could tell there was something.
“Your house is ridiculous,” Regulus said around his Chinese takeout—not for the first time.
“I was young,” Sirius said defensively. “I thought buying a house like this was, like, required.”
“Stupide,” Regulus snorted.
“—a nasty hit on Finn O’Hara by Ryan Reaves, but he seems okay,” the commentator said, replaying the hit, and Sirius tensed. He didn’t need a replay of that. They cut back to commercials again.
“Do you think they can actually force me to go back?” Regulus said suddenly.
When Sirius looked over he was poking mildly at his noodles.
“I won’t let them do that.”
Regulus rolled his eyes. “You’re Sirius Black, not God.”
“I won’t let them do that,” Sirius said again. “Tu comprends? I will not. And Minnie won’t either.”
“Maman says—”
Sirius sat up. “You’ve been talking to her?”
“I have to sometimes,” Regulus grumbled. “Legal stuff. Minnie’s always there.”
“It doesn’t matter what she says. She is—”
“Yes, I know what she is,” Regulus snapped. “I’ve been living with her—until a few months ago, in case you forgot.” He glowered around the room. “While you were in your big fancy house…”
Sirius blinked. “Reg…”
“I’m not—mad at you. I was, but I’m not. I mean, I’m doing what you did, aren’t I? Making a better life, damn the consequences?” Regulus sighed. “There are other Snakes who want out, you know.”
Sirius sat up. “Like…witnesses? Reg, you could compile a case.”
“They’re worried they’ll never get back into the League,” Regulus said. “I’m trying, but…I don’t know, Sirius.”
Sirius’ heart ached. He looked down at his chicken and rice. “I wish I could tell you what to do.”
Regulus looked at him, gray on gray, and nodded. “I know.” He glanced at the TV. “We’re back.”
Sirius secretly liked that. Looking at the Lions play with his brother, and hearing him say we.
“O’Hara didn’t need any help getting up, even if he looked a little rattled. Now, speaking from experience, I don’t know about you, Lee, but I was waiting for O’Hara’s line mate, Logan Tremblay to have something to say about it…Tremblay did not challenge Reaves, though.”
They were lining up for puck drop, James at the center against—
Grayback.
“You know, Dean, I think that’s a testament to these young Lions, really all the Lions. They call them the cubs, you know. You can tell how much they want this. They band together, they listen, they work…I think it’s pretty rare to see such fine communication in an entire team.”
Grayback won the face off.
“Fuck,” Regulus breathed.
Sirius wished he was there, standing beside Remus, on the bench, jumping the boards—anything. Instead, he was sitting on the couch, eating take-out. Helpless.
The entire first period, and the majority of this one had been back and forth. The score was still 0-0. They were fighting. Hard. Fenrir passed it to Tuch, who knocked it over to Engelland. Engelland took a hard shot, and Leo caught it in his glove.
“Another amazing save by Knut,” Dean said. “Rookie goal tender Leo Knut has blocked 29 shots in this game so far, most of them with his glove. I love seeing that sort of technique from the younger players, you know?”
“Absolutely Dean. And it looks to me like Coach Weasley is giving the Blizzard, Kasey Winter, a nice long rest as he looks ahead to hopefully a long and successful playoff run.”
Sirius leaned forward as play started up again. Evgeni barreled against Reaves and Fenrir, evading a two-on-one with a slick pass to Nado. It was hard hockey—it looked a little like play-off hockey. Brutal, hard-hitting, and determined.
It stayed like that until half way through the third.
“Fucking hell,” Regulus said. “How does this game still have no score?”
Sirius shook his head. His heart was in his throat. He had texted Remus at the second intermission.
Boys are fired as hell, Remus had said. Good feelings. They don’t even seem tired.
Harzy okay? he had said.
Yes. Then, a minute later. Boasting that you’re checking on him XD
That reassurance was the only thing keeping Sirius sane.
“We have to break their defense,” Sirius was half watching the battle on the ice and half running through plays in his mind. The clock read twelve minutes.
Sirius could have laughed. He pressed his necklace pendant between his palms, his steepled fingers against his mouth. He wasn’t religious. He just wanted this. For all of them.
Pascal’s line was out.
“Come on Dumo,” Sirius said.
Sirius watched Pascal and Fenrir line up for the face off with tense shoulders. He waited, and waited, and then the referee was straightening again, looking at Pascal and pointing away.
“Fuck,” Sirius cursed. “He’s kicking Dumo out of the circle.”
“I wonder what he said.”
Sirius silently begged Pascal to be careful.
Brady took Pascal’s place. He won the face off, and Sirius and Regulus shouted.
He passed it easily to Pascal, who dragged it along the boards.
“What’s he going so slow for?” Regulus demanded, fist hitting the couch.
Sirius only saw what was coming next because of the TV angle.
Pascal had his head down, and Fenrir was skating hard towards him on the ice.
Sirius and Regulus were on their feet in a second, shouting at the television. They couldn’t warn him.
Sirius couldn’t even breathe properly. It seemed to go on in slow motion, all of it. Pascal, his—his father, really, his protector. The man who had taken him right from under his mother’s grasp. Pascal who knew him better than anyone. Maybe even Remus.
Fenrir was obviously going in for the hit. He was probably confident that he could get away with it again. Just like he had with Remus. With Sirius. If he so much as touched Dumo—
But he underestimated Pascal Dumais just like had last time.
Pascal, puck on his stick, let Fenrir get closer, and closer, and then deked right. He spun on his right blade harshly and kicked off the boards like a goalie did on a goal post. The effect was that he went rocketing out of the way, right towards the Golden Knights’ goal, and Fenrir slammed into the boards with his own full-force.
The game didn’t pause for him. It only stopped when the goal lit up red as Pascal shot a clean line into the top left corner of the net.
Six minutes and three seconds remaining. 1-0, Lions. The Lions bench was on their feet, sticks banging against the boards as Pascal skated down for glove taps. The TV showed his familiar face, smiling. He looked into the camera for a moment, and Sirius swore Pascal was looking right at him.
He won’t get you again, the look said. Pascal tussled Remus’ hair with his glove. Or any of us.
Six minutes felt like six hours, longer and longer with each one of Leo’s saves. They showed his face during an offside whistle. He tilted his helmet up for some water. His blonde hair was darkened and drenched with sweat, but his blue eyes were fierce. He tapped his mask back down, and went back into a crouch. Sirius had never been so proud of Leo fucking Knut.
Shots were traded ferociously, the puck practically bouncing between the zones. Leo saved it with his blocker, a few bouncing off of his helmet, some dangerously close to his neck guard. He pushed off one post and dropped into a full split, the puck sliding snugly against his pad until he scooped it up like a hawk.
“Fucking hell, Leo,” Regulus mumbled.
“Right,” Sirius said. “Merde.”
Three minutes. James had four shots that very nearly went in. Logan had five close-calls. They were panting on the bench, squirting cold water down their necks, but they were keeping the score. They were protecting their lead.
Two minutes.
The Golden Knights pulled their goalie, the net was empty, and still no one scored again.
When the buzzer finally sounded, Sirius was breathing like he was on the ice, too.
The bench exploded, spilling out onto the ice. Finn threw his gloves into the air right before Logan crashed into him.
They had won the game with one goal, and three periods of sheer will-power.
Sirius hugged Regulus hard. He watched as his boys jumped on each other against the boards, knocking Leo’s helmet for his shut-out and grinning. They were clinched.
They were going to the playoffs.
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Text
Steel City - 15
Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader
Word Count: 6881
Rating: M (language)
Summary: Do a few outside interventions prove your point - or Billy’s? What happens when you spend the night with Frank, Karen and Billy ... and Karen asks you a question you don’t know how to answer?
Author’s Note: I’ll admit that where I leave this one is... kind of mean. But if I didn’t cut it off here, this would have been super long. Thank you - again - for all of your kind words and feedback. This Billy is truly growing on me, and it’s going to be difficult to pull myself away from him to write other things... like I need to. 
*The first 15 parts of this are on my masterlist, under the “Billy Russo” link if you need to catch up.
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(Images edited by @gollyderek, banner by me!)
“What do you mean?” You leaned forward, over the table in the diner, one eyebrow raised. “I don’t -”
 “Oh, come on.” The young woman across from you rolled her eyes, taking a drink from her straw. “I haven’t seen you in this good a mood since… well, in a long time.” You paused before answering, taking a long drink from your own cup and trying to think of a good way to reply to Kasey. “Are you… did you finally get laid?” Jaw dropping, you sucked in a breath. No. 
 “K-Kasey!” You coughed, closing your eyes and putting the container back down, shaking your head. “No. I did not get laid.” You finally caught your breath, meeting the woman’s eyes. “I guess I’m just… relaxed?” Which is really strange to say, considering Rawlins and Madani and… “I don’t know, maybe it’s the season.”
 “Bullshit.” She leaned back. “You hate Christmas.” Kasey had called earlier in the morning, asking if she could stop by for lunch and you’d agreed immediately, wanting to see your friend even if you couldn’t tell her anything. Not about what’s going on and not about… not about Billy. You’d seen him twice that morning, once walking out of an office with a drill and a small toolbox and again stopping near the security office to speak to Frank, but you hadn’t been able to do more than offer him a small smile and a nod, which he’d returned, one corner of his lips lifting into a smirk. “So what’s going on?” 
 Kasey’s voice drew you out of your thoughts, and you took another drink, thinking about how to answer her. “I guess… I’m just trying to focus on something else this year?” You blinked. “I’m always in a shitty mood for pretty much the whole month of December, and I just…” It’s different this year. “I don’t want it to be like that, especially with this new program that we started, and...” 
 “Good.” She took a bite of her sandwich, chewing as she nodded. “You deserve it.” I hate lying to her, but I’m not… not really. The two of you fell back into conversation, Kasey talking about the gift that her sister had ordered for her husband, but after only a few minutes, Frank and Billy walked into the seating area together. Shit. Averting your eyes, you focused back on Kasey, asking a question. They won’t sit near us, it wouldn’t… 
 “Hey, kid.” Frank’s gruff voice interrupted Kasey, and the woman glanced up, her eyes going wide as she saw him. “How you doin’?” Clearing your throat, you nodded before looking past him at Billy and meeting his eyes. 
 “Good, Frank.” You looked back at Kasey, sighing. “Kasey, these are two new employees, Frank and Billy.” She shifted in her chair, hooking one elbow over the back as she eyed the men. “Frank, Billy, this is my best friend, Kasey.” You watched as Kasey’s eyes moved over Frank first, dropping to where his hand held his lunch before they moved to Billy, her back straightening. Oh. Interesting. 
 “Hi.” She eyed Frank for a few seconds before she addressed Billy directly. “New employees? Maybe I need to see if I can get a job here, too.” Billy laughed, his eyes closing and his head dropping forward for a second, and Frank coughed, his eyes flicking over to yours. Yeah, I don’t… “There’s plenty of room, you guys should sit with us.” She hadn’t looked away from Billy yet, her head propped up on the fingers of the arm that was over the back of the chair. “We’re almost done, but I mean… she’s the boss, so…” I guess this is as good a way as any to prove to him… You watched as Billy eyed the woman, his features smoothing out after a few seconds. 
 “Yeah, I mean…” He glanced at the other man. “That alright with you, Frankie?” Without replying, Frank set his tray down next to Kasey, reaching out to pull the chair away from the table before he dropped into it. Damn, Frank. You fought back a smile, seeing the disappointment that crossed your friend’s features as she realized that her plan had backfired. You shifted in your chair as Billy walked behind you and then set his food down on the table next to you. Slowly, he pulled the chair back, reaching into his pocket to pull his phone out and placing it on the table before he sat. “So.” He sniffed, resting his elbows against the edge of the table. “Best friend, hmm?” Kasey nodded. “Where’d you guys meet?” 
 You were curious about why Billy was so curious, since he likely already knew the answer to his question, but even as Kasey began talking about how the two of you had met in grade school, you realized that he was only being polite. His body language, it’s… he’s… You looked between the two men, noting that Frank was only halfway paying attention, too. Interesting. “We roomed together in college.” You finally spoke, turning your head toward Billy meeting his eyes again. “All four years, and then we lived together when we moved back to Pittsburgh, too.” 
 “Oh yeah?” You nodded. “Sounds like you guys are close.” Kinda like you and Frank...but without all the bloodshed. 
 “You guys ever share boyfriends?” Frank’s question shocked you because of how strange the question sounded coming from him, and you looked away from Billy to see the other man leaning back in his chair, lips pushed out in an amused expression and one eyebrow raised. “Karen’s told me that that’s somethin’ a -”
 “No.” Kasey spoke first, laughing. “We dated the same guys a few times, but it wasn’t ever anything serious.” She glanced back at Billy. “What about you guys? You’re friends, do you -”
 “Absolutely not.” Frank outright laughed at that and so did Billy. “Bill over here… he has so many women around ‘im that it was always hard to keep track, but…” Frank took a long drink. “Nah. Never dated the same woman.” You laughed too, surprised at the ease with which Frank joked about the situation. But he probably gave Billy shit the whole time they’ve known each other, so this isn’t any different. As the conversation continued, the four of you eating and talking, Billy reached forward, checking his phone and then shifted on his chair, reaching down to put it back into his front pocket. 
 Without faltering or letting his words betray his actions, Billy reached over beneath the table before he brought his hand back up, dropping his palm against your thigh and squeezing. What is he… But the warmth of Billy’s hand through your pant leg was oddly comforting, distracting you from the conversation that was going on. Anyone could see. Kasey could… But Billy didn’t seem to care, squeezing once more before lifting his hand and running his fingers through his hair, pulling it away  from his face. “Hey.” Kasey said your name, glancing down at her watch. “Didn’t you say you had a meeting at 1:30?” 
 “I do, yeah.” Your eyes flicked over to the clock and then widened. “I should get back to my office and get ready.” Tilting your head to the side, you rolled your eyes as you looked at Frank. “Zoom meeting. Last one before the weekend.” He nodded, the amusement in his eyes clear. 
 “What are you doing this weekend?” Kasey was leaning forward again, her eyes on Billy. I’ve never seen her this openly… “You’re new to the city, so -” Billy didn’t get a chance to reply before Frank cut in, rubbing one large hand over the top of his head.
 “My fiancee and I are goin’ to some Christmas bar tonight.” Frank’s tone was annoyed, but the expression on his face didn’t match. “Her thing, not mine.” He jerked his chin at Billy. “Bill’s got plans, but I donno what they are.”
 Billy leaned back in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I got some plans.” You looked over at him as he spoke, laughing quietly at the grin on his face. “Pittsburgh’s no New York City, but it’s still somethin’.”
 “Well, Billy.” Kasey stood, rummaging through her purse and pulling out a pen. “If you’re ever in the mood to grab a drink…” She leaned forward, grabbing the napkin in front of him and scribbling her number on it. “Let me know.” You stopped laughing and Billy stiffened, waiting. She slid the paper back in front of him and clicked the pen closed. “I mean it.” Eyeing your friend closely, you watched as her eyes moved over his face, lingering on his right cheek. She said your name again and you stood quickly, gathering your trash and trying to hide your annoyance. “Nice to meet you, Frank. Have a good time tonight.” 
 Frank assured her that he would and as Kasey stepped around to your side of the table stopping next to you. I guess she’s coming up to my office with me. “Hey.” Billy said your name quietly, waiting until you’d turned back to him. “I got that work order for your door keypad today. You’ve got a meeting at 1:30.” Work order? “I don’t wanna interrupt, so what time…” He’s trying to come see me. 
 “I think it’s scheduled for 40 minutes, but it could run over.” You chewed on your lip. “I’ve worked with them before, but…” He nodded, eyeing you with such a casual disinterest that it was shocking. “I’d say 2:45, just to be on the safe side.” He agreed with you and you finally turned away from the table and crossed the cafeteria with Kasey, dropping your trash off and then going to the elevator. You pressed the button for your floor and once the two of you were inside the closed space, you prepared yourself for Kasey’s line of questioning. 
 “Why didn’t you tell me?” She gripped your arm, nails digging in through the sleeves of your sweater. “Two new employees? Both of them super hot?” I… well… I guess Frank’s… 
 “Nothing to tell. They’re employees.” You swallowed, hoping that it was convincing. “Frank’s engaged, and Billy… Billy’s…” There’s so much more to Billy. “Who knows if they’ll last here. Both former Marines, and… we’ll see how permanently they’ll want to stay here.” You shrugged. “I haven’t seen you that forward with someone in a while, Kasey.” She laughed as you walked toward your office. “You’ve never been interested in any of the -” 
 “Yeah, but look at him.” She paused in front of your office, waiting for you to key in your password. Shit. I have to… Reaching past her, you quickly typed - one digit off - and waited for it to flash. You repeated the mistake, groaning. 
 “See, this is what he’s coming to fix. It only accepts my password like half the…” The third time you entered it - correctly - the door unlocked, and the two of you entered, Kasey dropping onto the small couch off to the side of your desk. “And believe me, I’ve looked.” She laughed at that. 
 “How long have they been here?” You busied yourself with your laptop, giving yourself a chance to think. “I figured you’d say something about someone that looks like that working here.” 
 “They started a little while ago.” You glanced up. “Couple weeks, it hasn’t been long.” She seemed to accept that. “He probably won’t call you, Kasey, don’t get your hopes up.” It was petty of you to say it, but you were annoyed that she’d been so forward with him, even though it proved your point. She barely saw him and thought he was… “I’ve heard rumors about a few of the other employees that have asked him out and he’s... “ You gestured vaguely. “Blown them off.”
 “Who?” She sounded intrigued. “Who did he turn down?” I don’t want to talk to you about this. About him. You don’t know him, you don’t know anything. All you see is… But even as you had the thought, you realized that you’d known very little about him too, at first, aside from the fact that he was a good looking guy that likely had one hell of a backstory. And I was right. 
 “Madeline.” You sighed, sitting down at your desk. “At least one of the women in my program.” You’d heard her talking to one of the other recruits and mentioning his name as you’d walked through the previous day. “I don’t know, Kasey, it’s not like I’m keeping track.” You glanced at the clock. “I’m just saying, I wouldn’t be shocked if he doesn’t call right away.” But if he does call, then it proves his point. 
 “I think he will.” She stood, reaching over to grab her coat. “I’m curious, though.” Waiting, you watched her. “He’s a former Marine, been through a lot.” She assumes his face is… there’s another thing for me to tell him. “So why is he doing maintenance? Fixing door locks?” She turned toward the door. “I don’t know all the details about that program you created, but it seems like something he should be a part of.” I think so, too. But it’s… 
 “I have no idea, Kasey. That’s what he applied for.” Stop asking questions. She reached the door, and you called out one last time. “Let me know if he calls.” She laughed, telling you that she would, and then she was gone, giving you just under 10 minutes to get ready for your meeting. Focus. She would have met him at some point, I guess. But even as you logged in to Zoom, opening up the meeting room and waiting for your client, you were focused on the lunch you’d just finished, and you wondered if that was the case. You and Billy weren’t a couple - there was nothing traditional about what you were doing. And I don’t know what that means. Giving yourself 90 seconds to collect your thoughts, you cleared your throat and opened the folder containing your meeting notes. One more meeting, and it’s the weekend. 
 --- 
 The meeting ended on time, which shocked you, and it meant that you had nearly a full half hour before Billy would be there - if he even came up at all. Maybe he was just playing a part. Who knows. Losing yourself in typing up notes and making additions to the client file, you missed the knock on your door the first time it came, only lifting your head when you heard a sharp rap of knuckles against the glass window next to your door. Oh, shit. Standing, you quickly crossed the room, pulling the door open and welcoming him in. “No tools, Billy?” 
 He grinned, shrugging his shoulders. “Thinkin’ on the fly, you know? I -”
 “How’d you get past my assistant?” You crossed your arms, sitting on the edge of your desk. “I’m sure she wondered what you were doing up here without -”
 “Told her I was coming up to take a look at somethin’ in your office.” He paused. “Which isn’t a lie.” Billy’s gaze was locked on you, the look in his eyes intense. “Your friend’s, ah, interesting.” Interesting? That’s the word you … “She always like that?”
 “No.” You watched as he stepped closer, the look in his eyes not changing. “No, that was unexpected.” 
 “Threw away her number.” He rolled his neck back and forth, shoulders shifting. “It’s niceta know that she wanted me to have it, but…” But what? “Don’t need it.” That sounds serious. 
 “What was it that Frank said the night we played cards?” Billy was only a few feet from you, and though his posture was loose, you could tell he was prepared for a confrontation. Why? “Quantity over quality?” He laughed, the sound loud in your quiet office. “I mean, she’s my best friend, so I could vouch for her if you want, but -” He stepped even closer, reaching out with one hand to touch your leg again. “Billy, the blinds are -”
 “I don’t care.” He leaned closer, eyes locked on your face. “We’re just talkin’.” You watched as his tongue darted out, wetting his lips. “I’m not here to get involved with your friend.” He squeezed your knee. “I don’t need to.” What does that mean? “Got my hands plenty full with Rawlins and Madani… and you.” 
 “Billy, wh-” He leaned in, kissing you directly on the mouth, hard and fast. “You…”
 “Last night was the best night of sleep I’ve gotten in as long as I can remember.” He pulled away, watching you. “Frankie and Karen were still sleepin’ when I got in this morning, so… so you coming with us tonight is gonna be a surprise.” 
 “That’s good.” You swallowed, fighting the urge to reach up and push his hair behind his ear. “Less to explain, we’ve all hung out as a group before, so it won’t…” You shrugged. “No big deal.” 
 “Yeah, no big deal til I don’t leave them to try an’ talk to someone… or go home with someone.” He didn’t restrain himself, lifting his hand again and touching your cheek before pulling it back. “Well, someone else.” He blinked, wrinkling his nose. Deciding that you didn’t want him to keep floundering, you grinned back at him. 
 “So you’re announcing your intentions now, Billy?” He didn’t say anything. “At least I know I won’t have to work too hard to -” He cut you off, pushing you away by the shoulder, but he was laughing. 
 “Sounded better in my head, I gotta be honest.” Wait. As soon as the words left his mouth, you froze. Shit. “What?” He saw the look on your face and all traces of amusement were gone. “What did I -”
 “I think I…” You frowned. “I think I said that to Madani… “I’m gonna be honest”, and she…” You covered your face with a hand. “She noticed. I didn’t even realize, but you say it a lot, and she must have…” 
 “You’re talkin’ like me?” His voice dropped. “We haven’t even spent that much time together, and you’re already pickin’ up on…” Billy trailed off, wetting his lips. “I mean I’m not the only one that says it, but… but if she’s focused on me, then…” Yeah. “Thanks for tellin’ me. I’ll let Frank know.” 
 “I’ll be more careful.” You looked down. “I’m sorry.” He reached forward again, tilting your chin upward. 
 “You don’t have to apologize for that. It was an accident. This is new to you, and you…” He closed his eyes. “It’s fine.” It’s not. It’s careless, and… it puts us all in… “Hey.” You focused back on Billy, one of his long fingers tapping against your chin. “Stop. It won’t happen again, and it’s enough. She saw we weren’t here, and we’re not on any official payroll, so there’s nothing for her to find.” You hadn’t known that - you’d figured that your father was keeping everything above the board, hiring them on legitimately, but it made sense that he wasn’t. “I’m gonna go now.” He straightened up. “Karen wants to leave around six tonight, you wanna meet at our place?” You were nodding before he’d finished speaking. “Alright.” 
 “Hey, Billy?” You called out to him as he made his way to the door. “Should I plan on spending all night with Karen and Frank, or are they going to want…” 
 “Who knows?” Billy raised one eyebrow, staring at you. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, hmm?” He left the room, and you watched as he paused, talking to your assistant for a few seconds before heading down the hallway. Well that was interesting. You stood, moving between your desk and the windows, eyes on the slowly freezing river. And confusing. 
--- 
 By 5:40, you were considering canceling your plans. This is different. I want to go, but… You stood in front of the mirror, eyeing your chosen outfit. It wasn’t anything over the top - a hunter green cable knit sweater dress that fell to mid-thigh, cinched at the waist with a black and gold belt, dark tights and a pair of heeled black combat boots that you’d bought, worn a few times and then shoved to the back of your closet along with a pair of slouchy socks. It’s comfortable but it’s… You turned, frowning. Am I trying too hard? Do I need to?
 You had no idea how Billy would react to you being out with the three of them, no idea if he’d treat it lake a date in front of Frank and Karen, or if things would be the way they’d been either of the times you’d eaten with them previously. Does it matter? We’re going out together. That’s enough. You took a deep breath, made your decision, and turned away from the mirror, heading into your living room where your purse and coat were waiting for you. I wonder what Karen’s wearing. Hanging your purse over one shoulder, you slipped your arms into your coat - a hooded one that reached your knees - and zipped it, closing your eyes. Just drinks. 
 Locking the door behind you, you were in front of the other apartment door a few minutes later, your hand poised to knock. “Fuck it.” You whispered the words, rapping on the door with your knuckles, and then you waited. After only a few seconds, the door opened, revealing Karen on the other side, her eyes wide in surprise. “You’re coming!” You agreed with a nod and she waved you in, stepping aside. “I’m just finishing getting ready, I think Billy’s about done, and Frank… well, he’s been dressed and waiting for a half hour.” She gestured to the couch, where you saw Frank’s booted feet hanging over the arm, one of his hands raising over the back in a slight wave. “Go on and sit, and I’ll be done in a sec.” She grinned, reaching out to squeeze your arm. “I’m so glad you’re coming with us.” Settling into the seat across from Frank, you eyed the TV for a few seconds before he spoke. 
 “Your friend’s real interesting.” He turned his head toward you, drawing his lower lip into his mouth for a second. “Bold. Hit on me an’ Bill like it was nothin’.” 
 “She’s not usually like that.” You shrugged. “Must have just seen something she liked.” Which doesn’t surprise me. “Frank, I -” 
 “Don’t.” He sat up, swinging his feet onto the floor and hanging his hands between his knees on the far end of the couch. “I’m used to it. Even now, Bill’s the better lookin’ one of the two of us, and everyone knows it.” He grinned. “I’m just lucky Karen’s too -”
 “You gonna keep goin’ Frankie?” Billy stepped around the end of the couch, a grin on his face. “What is Karen, exactly?” Frank laughed and Billy sat next to the other man, on the open space closest to you. “That’s what I thought.” Billy eyed you, leaning back against the couch cushions and crossing his arms over his chest - which was covered in a dark gray button down, the top buttons undone so you could see the collar of his undershirt beneath it. “You been to this bar before?”
 “Yep.” Sighing, you leaned forward. “Yes. We go to at least one of them every year, and Jingle Bar is probably the least annoying.” He laughed and Frank did too. “It’s not too bad, though. Good drinks, the bartenders are friendly, and it... “ You paused. “It’s close to other, less festive bars, too.” 
 “Like that place we went for dinner, right?” You nodded, surprised that he was bringing it up. “Thought I saw a sign for it when we were walkin’ to the plaza.” You did. “Did you eat tonight?” 
 “I did. Sort of.” You wrinkled your nose. “Grabbed something on the way out of work, just so I could…”
 “Billy, she’s not an idiot.” Karen breezed back into the room, a whiff of her perfume hitting your nose as she made her way to the front closet. “I ordered the Uber, it’s going to be here in 8 minutes.” Efficient. “Frank. Billy. Coats, come on.” 
 “Karen.” Frank stood, and though you heard the annoyance in his voice, the look in his eyes told a different story. “We’re comin’. It takes -”
 “Listen to the lady, Frankie. She sounds serious.” Billy rose, reaching a hand out for you and you took it, letting him pull you to your feet. “Real serious.” You laughed as he squeezed your hand before letting go, the two of you walking to the door after Frank. The two men - finally in their coats - led the way to the elevator, and soon you were waiting out front of the building, Karen holding her phone and eyeing the screen. “We could walk.” Billy was looking down the street, his eyes narrowed, hood pulled up over his head. “Can’t be too far, right?” 
 “Billy, we can take an Uber, it’s like five minutes, it’s better than walking, and we’re in heels. It’s icy, and the car is pulling up right now.” She smiled at him, shaking her head and using one hand to push her hair back over her shoulder. “You don’t always have to do everything the hard way.” No, you don’t. She’s right. Frank leaned over as the driver addressed Karen by name through the open window, and within a few seconds, the four of you were in the back of the SUV, slowly driving down the street toward the bar. 
 You and Billy were in the middle row of seating, Karen and Frank in the back, and though Billy was still wearing his hood and had his head turned to look out the window, he kept up a steady stream of conversation with the driver in the few minutes it took to get to your destination. He didn’t try to touch you after helping you up, and you wondered if it was because he knew that Frank and Karen were watching. Doesn’t matter. When the driver pulled up on Forbes and stopped, Billy got out of the car first, thanking the man, and then, without hesitation, reached back for your hand again. Neither Karen or Frank said anything, but you could feel their eyes on you as you stepped onto the street, the heels of your boots clicking against the wet concrete. 
 “It’s busy.” Frank’s gruff voice came from behind you, and you heard Karen telling him to be quiet, but you also felt Billy’s hand on your lower back, pushing you forward. There was a short line to get in, and as the four of you waited in it, you looked around, taking everything in. You could see the decorations through the windows, but you also saw that there was plenty of spaces to sit. But why are we… Oh, they’re taking cover. You unzipped your coat, reaching for your purse when you heard Billy’s voice, barely audible over the sound of the Christmas music coming through the open set of doors.  
 “What are you doin’?” You glanced up at him, confused. “You’re not payin’. I got it.” And Billy did - paying the fee for all four of you when it was your turn, and soon after, you were sitting at one of the low tables, a pillar covered in bright wrapping paper to your right. Frank and Karen were sitting on the opposite side of the table, and Billy was next to you, his eyes constantly moving over the crowd. “You weren’t kiddin’.” He sounded amused, leaning over to talk to you. “Plenty of people here, it’s…” Loud? Over the top? Reaching past him, you pulled the menus out from the slot at the end of the table, handing one to Karen and one to Billy before you took a third for yourself, eyeing it. I’m sure they’ll just want beers, but Karen will want to get a… 
 “These are fun.” Karen sounded excited, her eyes meeting yours over the laminated plastic sheet she held. “The Yule Mule? A maple Old Fashioned?” She nudged Frank with her shoulder. “Which one are you gonna -”
 “Karen.” Frank turned in his seat  toward the woman, reaching for her hand. “I love you. But I’ve got about one Christmas themed drink in me, and then I’m goin’ right back to beer.” You saw her lips twitch in the glow of the multicolored lights, but she didn’t say anything, her eyes locked onto Frank’s. “An’ if you think there’s any way in Hell I’m gonna walk my ass up to that bar and order somethin’ called “Naughty or Spice, you’re insane.” 
 “Well luckily for you, Frank,” you said, standing and unzipping your coat, shrugging it off and hanging it over the back of your chair. “First round’s on me.” You removed your purse, opening it and grabbing your wallet before setting the bag down on the table. “And I have no problem asking for any of ‘em.” The amused look was still on Karen’s face, but you realized she wasn’t looking at you - her eyes were on Billy. Weird. “Tell me what you guys want, and I’ll go up to the bar and order.” You looked down, finding that Billy was watching you. “You too, Billy. What do you want?” His eyes flashed but he recovered quickly, glancing back down at his menu and pointing at the Old Fashioned. 
 “I’ll come with you.” Karen stood, her hand on Frank’s shoulder as she watched you. “You can’t carry four drinks at once.” The two of you made your way from the table toward the bar, joining the crowd of people that were waiting for drinks. You figured Karen was an expert and getting served after having lived in New York for as long as she had, but instead of jostling through the crowd, she seemed content to wait. “What’s going on between you and Billy?” The question should have shocked you, but it didn’t - not coming from her. “The way he just looked at you when you took your coat off?” She shook her head, chewing on her lip. “He… he doesn’t look at people that way.” 
 “What do you mean?” You stepped up, closer to the bar. “We’re -” Karen laughed. “Karen, I don’t know what you want me to say here.” Turning your head to look at her, you pressed your lips together. “I don’t know.” 
 “You don’t know what it is, or you don’t know what you feel?” She raised one eyebrow. “Because I try not to listen in, since I don’t need to, but … I know what he’d told you about himself, and… you’re still here. With us.” I am. “And you said you weren’t coming yesterday, so…” 
 “He asked me to.” You knew it was pointless to lie to her, so you didn’t. “He stopped by my office today and said he was going to come with you, and asked if I wanted to come to, so I’m…” You lifted both hands, gesturing to your surroundings. “I’m here.” 
 “He’s gonna get hit on.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, and you looked down, watching her adjust the shoulder of her top - a dress made of a material much thinner than yours in a deep red. “He always does. Sometimes he ignores it, other times he goes along with it. Usually he’ll have a couple drinks and then get a little more confident. It’ll be interesting to see what … who he pays attention to tonight.” Finally stepping up to the bar, you let Karen order the drinks for her and Frank - the Naughty or Spice and the Yule Mule before you ordered the two for you and Billy - an Old Fashioned and The Mean One, telling the male bartender to put it on your tab. He took your debit card with a smile, and as he turned to away to begin making your drinks, Karen leaned against the bar, looking up at you. “He was staring at you when you took your coat off.” Was he? 
 “Well, I mean I was right there, he…” She shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Karen.” 
 “No, he was seriously staring.” She eyed you. “I mean I  can see why, that dress is the perfect color for you, and you look amazing, but usually he’s not … he wouldn’t…” She watched you closely. “He didn’t come home last night, called Frank and told him that he…” She blinked, running a hand through her long hair. “You wouldn’t happen to know where he spent the night, would you?” If I don’t answer, that tells her that he… but if I do, I don’t… “It’s none of my business, I just -”
 “Karen.” You closed your eyes. “Yes.” She gasped, one hand covering her mouth and her eyes going wide. “But don’t make a big deal out of it, nothing happened, we just … slept.” 
 “Oh, but that is a big deal.” Karen leaned in, her eyes still wide. “Especially for him.” 
 --- 
 An hour later, Frank had kept to his promise, switching from the cocktails to regular beer, while you, Karen and Billy were sticking to the drink menu. He’d opted for a second of the same, while you and Karen switched, but it seemed like all of you were pacing yourselves. This isn’t bad, actually. You smiled as you looked around you, eyes falling on the people in the various areas of the bar; taking selfies in front of the displays, cameras pointed at the twinkling lights on the ceilings and walls, congregating near the small stage in the corner. I’m having a good time. Karen seemed to be, too, and you could tell that Frank was humoring her, but with every passing minute, you saw him loosening up. 
 They’d gone to take pictures, too, leaving you and Billy at the table alone for a few minutes, the two of you continuing your conversation, his dark eyes trained on yours the whole time. You’d seen the looks he was getting; the multi-colored lights casting shadows across his face that partially hid the scarring, women passing by the table openly staring. I would too, if I saw him. But Billy was oblivious to it, only focused on the three of you at the table. This has to be weird for him. He talked with his hands a lot, gesturing as he spoke, and it was easy for you to relax, letting yourself enjoy your time out. “Want another drink?” Billy leaned in close, eyes on the menu. “Yours looks empty.” 
 You glanced up, finding Frank and Karen waiting in a small group of people to take a photo with one of the murals, and though you knew Frank was less thrilled than she was about it, he still had his arm slung around her shoulders, his head dipping down so that he could kiss the top of hers. I’m glad he’s… he’s got her. Billy’s voice interrupted your thoughts again, and you finally looked back at him. “I shouldn’t, Billy. Not unless I eat something, and -”
 “Well, I don’t think Karen’s gonna wanna leave right away, so we might as well order food, too.” He reached past you for the menu, his fingers closing around it. “Pretzels? Wings? Cheese fries?” He sighed, winking at you. “Whatever you want.” 
 “You pick.” Gesturing to the bar, you looked down and then back at him. “It all sounds good.” Billy stood, smoothing down the front of his shirt, and finally looking around the bar as if he was seeing it for the first time. Maybe he is. He told you he’d be back and left you at the table, making his way through the crowd. Karen’s words came back to you - he’s going to get hit on, he gets more comfortable after a couple drinks - and you realized that if it was going to happen, it would be while he was alone. Don’t watch. 
 But you knew that you’d keep an eye on him, just to see, and so though you pulled your phone out to scroll through it, you eyed Billy, too, watching as he joined the crowd of people near the bar, arms hanging loosely at his sides. It didn’t take long - a redheaded woman stepping up next to him and reaching out, one hand going to his elbow - the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, exposing the skin of his forearm. He glanced at her, but seemed to be keeping his eye on the people in front of him - however the woman wasn’t deterred. She’s pretty. 
 Billy finally looked down at the woman, smiling at her, and you watched as the two began taking, Billy’s posture a little more rigid than it had been, though it seemed like he was being friendly enough. Karen and Frank coming back to the table interrupted your spying, and you guiltily set your phone down. “Where’s Bill?” Frank slid back into his seat, Karen only pausing at the table long enough to grab her purse before she headed down the hall toward the bathroom. “He leave?”
 “He’s getting… ordering food and more drinks.” You swallowed. “He’s by the bar now.” You looked back up, seeing that Billy had let the woman go in front of him, the back of her head the only thing visible to you. “Right by that woman withe the red hair.” Frank turned, looking over his shoulder and watching as Billy leaned over the bar, pointing at things on one of the menus as he spoke. “He -”
 “Don’t worry about it, kid.” Frank returned his attention to you. “Bill’s not gonna -”
 “I’m not worried, Frank.” You answered honestly. “I’ve been telling him for weeks that it’s in his head, that he’s just as appealing now as he used to be, even if people are only looking at him.” You picked up your drink, tilting your head back as you drained the last drops. “Now I know I’m right.”
 “That’s not what I meant.” Frank sighed, running a hand over his head. “You -”
 “Food’s gonna be here in a few.” Billy slid into the seat next to you, reaching over to hand you a drink, which you accepted in surprise. “Got a couple things since there’s four of us. Got you another one of the lemon ones, and then at the suggestion of that girl I was talkin’ to at the bar, I got one of the Filthy Animals.” He raised the glass to his lips, taking a long drink. Why is she recommending… “She said it suited my personality.” Frank laughed loudly at that and Billy leaned back in his chair, taking another drink just as Karen came back. “What? I guess she didn’t like the fact that I told her I’d buy her a drink but that was it.” 
 “Classic, Bill.” Frank lifted his beer to his lips, scoffing as he took a drink. “Poor girl probably spent ten minutes tryin’ to work it up to talk to you, an’ you just shot her down.” Frank cleared his throat. “Thought you were gonna make the most of bein’ in Pittsburgh. Last I checked you still -”
 “You keepin’ an eye on my bedroom activities, Frankie?” Billy stuck his tongue into his cheek, cocking his head to the side. “You forget that I wasn’t home last night?” You fought to keep from reacting to that, but it didn’t matter, because Frank set his beer down, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table, his eyes locked on Billy’s. 
 “Nah, Bill. I’m just makin an observation.” His eyes flicked to you and then back to Billy, and you saw the look on Karen’s face - a mix of worry and apprehension. Where is he going with this? “I call it like I see it.” The two men watched each other silently, and you wondered who’d break first - it turned out that it was Frank. “Aint that right?” 
 Billy took a deep breath, straightening up. “Sure is, Frankie.” He sniffed, taking another sip of his drink, this one smaller. “You’re right.” Sharing a confused look with Karen, who shrugged her shoulders, you were about to speak again when a waitress stopped at your table, a tray covered in appetizers on her hands. Saved by the pretzels. 
 All four of you thanked her, and though Karen and Frank both reached immediately for plates, you didn’t, waiting. What was that? You figured that Frank and Billy had gotten good at communicating without words, but in the dim lighting and holiday music-filled space, you couldn’t figure out what they were trying to say to each other. It doesn’t matter. Reaching for the plate of pretzel bites, you lifted one to your lips, chewing slowly. Before you could grab another, you caught Billy shifting next to you in his seat - and then, without warning, an arm went around your shoulders, tightening briefly as fingers closed against your opposite shoulder, grip firm through the material of your sweater. What is he… 
 But when you looked over at Billy, he was just watching you with a contented smile on his face, his eyes bright. “This alright?” Not trusting yourself to speak, you just nodded, feeling yourself growing warmer by the second. Well, shit. 
--- 
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shinymooncolor · 4 years
Text
Hi all!
As usual, I owe all of this to the wonderful world created by @lumosinlove. 🙏🏻
I love Kris so much. Single dad, hockey star is a mood. Apologies in advance. 😇
Enjoy!
Sweater weather chats #2
Kris joins a super secret club. Lily gets emotional. We get introduced to the bat cave. Kris is a cautionary tale for the rookies. Or that’s what Nado days. Kris is also an honorary mom. Celeste reminisces. Kasey, Nado and Kuny babysits. Everybody loves Remus. Ava wants a pony. Natalie has plans. SO MUCH BROMANCE.
—————
Emotional support group and Remus 🤩🥰🏒:
Friday 3.32 pm
NatNat added Kris to the group.
Allison: do I spy a new member? Welcome to the dark side, Kris. The rules are simple - this is a safe space for us to discuss our men, babies and other related topics.
Lucia: also, never tell the boys what happens at brunch. 😁
Celeste: welcome Kris. We thought you’d enjoy coming to brunch with us - Ava is always welcome.
Kris: woah? What is this? Shit. I’m honored. Also Remus? Wtf.
Remus: hi kris yeah I don’t know how I was allowed in, but it’s nice. 😁
NatNat: well Dumo might be the honorary dad but Kris is totally the honorary mom on the team. He wiped Gatorade off of Leo’s face last game. It was adorable 😍😍😍
Kris: well James did unscrew the top as a prank, not actually sure it’s a prank if you do it every game. And Leo didn’t realize. And he’s weird about not taking his blocker off. Had to help the kid out. 😆
Allison: well it made us enroll you in our secret and sacred club. Welcome! 🤩
NatNat: i forgot to send this on Wednesday!! Baby Russian with baby puppies
*kuny puppy pic*
GingerLily: awwww he looks so happy. James said he’s been depressed he cannot train this week. I love this. 😍
Anyaismyname: my baby. I knew him from he was 16. Such a sweet boy.
Kris: sweet? Are we talking about the same Kuny? He taught Ava to cuss a ref and last time the media asked her what she thought of the game and my playing, she parroted that. I had a trending tag for a month after that on Twitter😔
NatNat: I’m not condoning it but it was hilarious. I cried. But seriously he adopted a cat and named her Aya and they send me selfies with her every 7 minutes. They built her a castle in their ridiculous bat cave game room. 😅👑🐱
Remus: the bat cave is awesome. They’ve got pro surround sound and all. And a real slushee machine. 🤖 also kris, coach want you all back on the ice in 10.
NatNat: yeah haha kase is excited to go for halo night. Apparently they’ve got some sort of new VR stuff for practicing as well. 🏒🏒🏒
Celeste: Kris, don’t worry about the curse words. Marc spent three months yelling fuck at everything after Logan accidentally taught him. They get over it quick and the fans love you even more after that - haven’t you been on the most eligible list for your entire career? Also, didn’t Anya tell Kuny’s mom?
Anyaismyname: da, and believe me, Scolding work better in Russian. And I promised her to look out for her boy.
Kris: thanks guys, I know. I was just shocked. She’s my baby and sometimes I just can’t handle how quick she grows... it’s not fair... and yeah, apparently a single dad with a travel heavy job is eligible. Weird.... also - the boys’ game room is amazing and they did set up a my little pony game for her last time on the projector. Be there in three Re!!! 🏃‍♂️
GingerLily: awww I cant believe she was a baby when I first met her. She grows sooo quick! 😍
Kris: well it’s you soon! Good luck - you think you know what love feels like but. Damn, a baby just changes things. ☺️
GingerLily: we’re starting on the nursery next week and I can’t wait. James is hopeless with tools though but we’ve decided on a color theme at least 🥰🥰🥰
Celeste: mmh, that is always a big moment. I remember when I was pregnant with Adele, Pascal was still just settling into the Lions and we’d already moved twice, but something changed when we started working on the nursery. It got real then - he didn’t get the puck theme he wanted but nevertheless, I think that was when he really realized he was about to become a father 😍
NatNat: awwwww, can’t even imagine you two without your babies 😁
Celeste: me neither, honey, me neither. 😉
Friday, 4.38 pm
Kris: Natalie do you think we could find a puppy for Ava? We could house train it during off season and she’s been begging for a puppy for a while and i really want one too and hopefully with a puppy the “I want a pony” phase can be forgotten! :)
NatNat: of course!!! Also shouldn’t you be at training?
Kris: We finished 5 minutes ago. :) also thanks for cheering Kuny up, he was allowed to do stretches today.
NatNat: oh god. Forget the time out here. Is kase done too?
Kris: yeah but he’s currently unavailable. Something about hug a goalie day *pic of kasey and Leo, on the ice under a mountain of players*
GingerLily: 🤦🏽
Celeste: on another note my lovelies. I would love to host brunch next Sunday! We have full attendance - Elsa is visiting from Sweden! :) please let me know how many babies you’re bringing.
Sunday 7.03 am
Kris: hi Celeste. I’m really sorry to do this last minute but ava’s mom has cancelled again and I can’t get a sitter this late. I’d love to come for brunch next time though.
Celeste: oh my dear. Bring her. It’s absolutely no problem.
NatNat: hey kris. Kasey is going to nado and Kuny and he says they’re happy to babysit. Also he wants to know why you and Remus are invited to brunch. Don’t tell him anything. 😉😉😉
Kris: oh I don’t want to be a problem they probably don’t want a 4-year old to disturb their halo game...😬
NatNat: it’s not a problem at all :) (also need kase to practice - not getting any younger here 😏🤩)
Kris: well if it’s really no problem I know Ava would love to spend time with them. :) also totally rooting for baby blizzards soon!
———-
Blizzard created a new group: Babysitting
Blizzard added RussianGod, Nadotheman and KrisVolley
Blizzard: hey guys. Quick change of plans. Ava is hanging out with us today. Kris is going to brunch with the girls?! Said we’d be happy to spoil baby munchkin and teach her more Russian curse words
RussianGod: ok. Can we eat cookie? Also no bad words. Don’t want more yelling from Anya. She scary.
Blizzard: season diet Kuny. Oreos are only for Ava. And isn’t Anya like 5.2?
RussianGod: nado is still sleeping. But we can go to park and meet ladies. They love single dad. But Anya is little but scary. Have you not see how she keep sergei in check?
KrisVolley; you are not using my baby to meet ladies. Haha oh never thought of that. Anya is always nice to me 😂
KrisVolley: Here are the ground rules gentlemen!!!!
1) no begging - you need to say no and stick with it, unless she’s crying properly don’t give in to her. She hissy cries when she wants things her way
2) not too much sugar and candy alright? (Looking at you Kuny)
3) Kuny and nado can’t use her as a ploy to ensnare women.
4) do NOT teach her any more Russians words unless they’re good, safe and cute words. The press still hounds me from the time you taught her to cuss a ref....
5) have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do
Nadotheman: Morning boys. Also happy to babysit. But tHaNkS fOR aSkInG kase... 👍🏻 also @KrisVolley:
1) how the hell are we supposed to say no to that face? No idea how you made such a beautiful baby.
2) no problem. (Totally lying to you)
3) we would never use our baby niece in such a despicable way 😳 also it was one time and we can’t help that we are irresistible to baby-crazy ladies.
4) she can only scold a ref. According to Kuny totally safe and good words. Don’t believe what Sergei or Sunny says. Or the press.
5) so don’t knock up a fan at 18? Alright man got it.
KrisVolley: ....
Nadotheman: just keeping it real. You’re a cautionary tale for the rookies man. But your baby is cute. And you do a great job bro! 💪🏻
KrisVolley: I’m a what?? And thanks Nado. 😊
Blizzard: When you’re done with your moment.... I’m picking her up in five, can Nat go with you to Dumo’s? Ava and I will go have brunch at the bat cave and have an awesome time. And don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on the boys.
KrisVolley: thanks Blizzard. Good practice as well 😉
Kuny: 👀👀👀👀 baby blizzard????
Blizzard: alright calm down m8. We’re not even married (no judging kris)
Nadotheman: whatever you say bro. You gotta make a baby with that girl - she swooned at family skate. Also we all saw you makin heart eyes at the Brady bunch. 😆😆😆😆
Blizzard: they’re adorable and this conversation ends here. We’re outside now Kris. Also don’t encourage Nat. I’ve got a plan. 😬
——-
Nado: Kuny. Kuny. Is it baby safe? They’re here in 15 minutes.
Kuny: why you text me? I’m next door.
Kuny: also yes is fine. Maybe get bra down. It been in fan for 3 days
Nado: you’re the tall one. Get it down.
Kuny: I not put it there.
Nado: fine you lazy jerk. I’ll get it down.
Kuny: 😘
Nado: fuck off. But I love you too bro.
—-
Until next time, my lovelies 🥰
Always open for ideas, prompts, constructive criticism!
Also - does hug a goalie day exist? I think it should.
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dragons-socks · 4 years
Text
Baby Bumblebee chptr 2
Bumblebee woke up inside Ironhide. He was paralyzed with confusion and fear until the morning’s findings came back to him. He was human, smaller than Sam even. He ran his fingers against the leather of his comrade. It was smooth, but also had small textures where the seams of the seats were. Such a small detail the autobot usually doesn’t notice. Did his own seats feel like this? Lennox asked how he was feeling, but how could he explain to the human how lost he was. How could he put into words he couldn’t use that he didn’t know what to do?
He already knew Optimus didn’t want him, and while Ironhide was trying to explain what Lennox had earlier, it just made his chest ache. It took so long for them to reach Lennox’s house. He could have done it faster in his alt form. A form that was gone, along with everything else. Bee tried to get out of Ironhide but his legs were still weak and Lennox had to pull him out. It was humiliating and Bee couldn’t help but feel his eyes burn and feel wet at the same time.
“Bee, you remember Sarah, right?” Lennox asked, gesturing to his wife. Bee did remember the woman. She was nicer than Sam’s parents at least.
“Welcome to the family, Bumblebee.” The way she said that. The way she smiled and tried to touch his hair. The way that everyone just decided this is where he was going to be without him. His eyes started to leak and soft hics and huffs pushed past his mouth. Bee stumbled away, hiding behind the large wheels of Ironhide.
The mech gently transformed into his biped form and shielded the kid from the humans.
Bee chirped and tsked and tried to talk to the autobot. He wanted to go back to Optimus. He promised he wouldn’t get underfoot. He would even help Ratchet without complaining. He can be useful still.
“I can’t understand you anymore, Bee.” Ironhide said solemnly. “But I can guess. And I promise by the All Spark, I will not leave you.”
Lennox was back by Bee’s side coaxing him into his house and onto a couch that he shouldn’t be able to fit on. Bee sat there, curled up in a soft yellow blanket and cloths that didn’t quite fit him. He could hear Lennox and Sarah talking in their kitchen as the wife made food.
“We can’t just harbor a child, Will. So what’s your plan?” Sarah asked in a hushed whisper, but still loud enough for the autobot to hear.
“We’ve got people drawing up paperwork so anyone looking too hard will just find a kid that we’ve adopted. That’s the hard part, and it’s being taken care of.” Lennox replied.
“The hard part? The hard part is getting him culturized as a human. To get him into a school, and accustomed to our world on such an intimate level. The hard part is making sure we understand him, Will. At least as a giant robot he had the ability to use the radio as his voice.” Sarah ran a hand down her face.
“You don’t give Sam credit enough of showing Bumblebee human culture.” Lennox tried to lighten the mood, but Sarah wasn’t having it.
“Are we changing his name?” She asked.
“What?” Lennox jeered back. “Why would we change his name?”
“It’s Bumblebee, like an insect. Who is going to believe someone named their child after an insect?” Sarah shook her head.
“If Jay-Z adn Beyonce can name their kid ‘Blue Ivy’. Bumblebee can keep his name. Plus it’s not like he’s an actual eight year old. He just looks eight. He’s got tough skin.” Lennox shook his head. “You’re worrying too much, babe. It’ll work out in the end, just take it one day at a time. Just like we do with Annabell.”
Bumblebee huddled further into his nest in the corner of the couch. He tried to tune out the conversation in the kitchen and watch the television. The house soon filled with a strange sent. Bee beeped with urgency rolling off the couch and running to the humans, tugging on Lennox’s pant leg to get him to leave his house with his wife and kid. Something was trying to poison them!
“What’s up, Bee?” Lennox asked, not seeming to be alarmed by the sent. So Bee touched his nose, looking around, trying to get the message across. “Yeah, it does smell good. Sarah’s almost done making dinner.”
Be turned to Sarah as she put piles of steaming things onto plates and brought them to the table. While most of the smell stayed in the kitchen, the plates also carried the same scent. Which meant Sarah was either trying to kill everyone. Or this was a weird human thing.
“Come sit down, Bee.” Sarah patted a chair on their small kitchen table. He shuffled to the chair and had to sit on his knees to be able to see and reach everything properly. He watched as Sarah and Lennox began eating with the small silver things. He copied them, but found it was a lot harder than he thought as he fisted the fork and stabbed it into the meal. Once on the fork he watched as the others chomped down and mashed it up with their teeth and jaws.
The sensation was weird, hot and inside him. It turned into a sort of paste that wasn’t enjoyable to feel at all, but the taste was nice. It coated his tongue and made him feel happy. But after a while of chewing he grew bored. He couldn’t tell what was aking their food vanish and make room for more? Until his mouthful got close to the back of his throat, which convulsed automatically and the food vanished. Bee dropped his fork and started to panic.
“Hey, it’s okay. That’s normal, kid. It’s called eating.” Lennox was by his side in a moment, patting his back as Bee tried to couch his heart out. Bee let out shrieks and hisses, clinging to the man. Once he calmed down Lennox tried to return him to his dinner, but Bee outright refused to eat. It was a terrible experience. His stomach even growled and roared with unwant.
“You gotta eat, kid.” Bee shook his head, baring his teeth and growling at his food along with his stomach.
“Bumblebee, you’re tummy is trying to tell you that it needs more.” Sarah crotched down next to the child. “I promise it gets better. And you’ll feel better once you eat.” Bee shook his head again, looking away from the plate.
“I’ll let you see Sam if you eat.” Lennox said. Sam? Bee blinked, cocking his head. “Yeah, you can hang out with him and Mikaela.” Bee nodded and took another bite of the food. He didn’t want to let it down his throat but Lennox’s continual promise that this is how it worked quelled some of Bee’s anxieties. It took a whole hour to finish the plate. At the end, Bee didn’t exactly feel better, but he did feel less tired.
That was when Annabell was dropped off by the babysitter.
“Oh, it’s nice to see you home, Captain Lennox.” The girl, about Sam’s age, waved as Lennox was pulling Bumblebee out of a kitchen cabinet.
“Hello, Kasey. Thanks again for looking after Annabell.” Lennox approached, Bee held like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. Bumblebee chittered and tried to crawl out of his capture, almost kicking Lennox in the face.
“Who’s the kid?” Kasey narrowed her eyes at the eight year old.
“A friend of mine passed. We’ve decided to look after the kid in his absence.” Lennox explained.
“Sure, just know I take double for any additions.” She threatened before kneeling down. “Byebye Annabell. See ya, later.”
“Byebye Kasey.” Annabell laughed before turning to her dad. “Who’s that?”
“This is Bumblebee, Baby girl. He’s gonna be living with us.”
“Like the car? Vroom?” She looked at the boy, who looked down at her and made rumbling noises in his chest.
“Sort of, yeah. Why don’t you go put your stuff away in your room and you two can play before bed time?” She nodded and grabbed her bag, running to her room. Be gave an irritated chirp. He didn’t want to play with a baby human. He wanted to go into the tiny dark closet and be alone. He wanted to be with Sam. He wanted to be with Optimus and the others, but that wasn’t going to be an option. “Just be nice. And don’t make her cry.” Lennox warned.
Sarah came out of her room with a hand full of toys, dropping them down in the middle of the living room before grabbing onto Bumblebee and pulling him to sit with her around the pile. She picked up each one and explained them and what she named them. Bee didn’t really care about the multitudes of plastic human females or the tiny plastic horses. He did, however, find a set of tiny cars. There was a yellow car, with white stripes and one of the wheels was missing. He picked it up and looked at it.
“And you can be the boy.” Annabell thrusted a doll into Bee’s face. He made a few chirps, lifting up the toy car. “No, we’re playing house, not cars.” Annabell pouted.
Bee pushed the human toy away and grabbed the car. He didn’t want to pretend to be a human. He was already one, and it wasn’t fun. He wanted to be a car. He said as much in his huffs and tsks. The smaller child didn’t understand morse code, not like her dad.
“No, you can’t be a car!” Annabell shouted, yanking the toy from his hands. He felt his fists ball up, but he wasn’t allowed to hurt humans. Optimus would surely never take him back if he broke that rule. So he took deep breathes like he sees Lennox do when dealing with the twins or his own men. “You have to be the human!”
Bumblebee chirped angrily, ignoring the girl and picking the car back up. She stomped her foot and snatched the car once again, forcing the doll into Bumblebee’s hand and threw the car down the hall so hard another wheel popped off. Bumblebee stood there, glaring at the stupid human doll. It was tiny, and frail, almost as humans were to Bee just a day ago. He looked at the girl and threw the toy as she did the car. It hit the corner of the wall and it’s head popped off. The girl start to wail, but Bee didn’t care. He stormed out of the house and climbed into Ironhide’s passenger side.
“I can’t take you anywhere, kid.” Ironhide said, sending a text to Lennox that Bee was safe with him if the man was looking. Bee nodded, letting out a string of wobbling chirps. He just wanted to be away from the other humans. He didn’t have to be elsewhere. Bee didn’t stay alone for long. Lennox pulled open the door, an angry look on his face.
“I said not to make her cry, Bumblebee.” Lennox’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was angry. Bee didn’t turn to the human. She was the one who threw the car first, so Bee could just claim he thought that was the game they were playing. He knew it was a lie, but what did he care? “I know you know not to throw things. You aren’t an actual child. Why did you do it.”
She did it first. Morse code took a long time to spell out, each letter having to be chirped out one at a time. It almost made Bee miss his binary-talk when his vocoder had first broken.
“She is a child.” Lennox’s arms were crossed. Bee shrunk down at that, holding his knees tighter to his body but still not turning to look at the captain. “What made you think that breaking the toys was okay?”
I don’t want to be a human. Bee chittered.
“I know, but that doesn’t mean you have to be a brat.” Lennox was still angry.
I don’t want to be a human and I don’t want to pretend-play a human. I just wanted the stupid toy car, and she doesn’t know morse code. And she was the one to throw it first. I - Bee trailed off after that, his eyes were leaking again. I’m sorry
Lennox relaxed, uncrossing his arms and running a hand down his face. He leaned more casually against Ironhide’s door frame. The mech rumbled his engines to send soothing vibrations to the kid in his seat.
“You’ve been having a rough day, huh Bee?” Lennox’s voice was soft, like he used back in the hospital and to get Bee to continue to eat. It rumbled like an engine, but was smooth and silk-like all the same. Bee nodded into his knees. He took a deep breath. “I’ll be back in a second.”
Bee relaxed a little bit as the human left. He smashed his face into Ironhide’s cool seats and let the soft rumbling lull him into a drowsy state. The mech didn’t say his concerns out loud, letting his thoughts text out to Lennox so Bee wouldn’t be so frightened and stressed. And Ironhide was no medic, but he was around Ratchet long enough to understand and make a few theories on his own. Bumblebee usually acted childish, and could be rash at time, but never like this. If the chemicals of a human child flowed through him, he could very well have the emotional outlook and developlement of what this body allowed him to have. In other words, if Bee’s body was eight, he might have the emotional mentality of his body.
Lennox came back, opening up the driver’s door and getting in.
“We’re going for a drive.” Lennox said, and Ironhide revved up his engine and pulled out of the house. Bee didn’t make any move to acknowledge the man, but as the minutes grew longer and the silence stretched one, it was either find himself falling asleep or engage with the human.
Where are we going?
“Just one a ride, kid.”
They didn’t get back to the house until the moon was already high in the sky, and Bee was this side of staying conscious. Lennox helped him through the house and back onto the couch, making a list of everything they needed to get for the kid to be comfortable. But that was a job for tomorrow.
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thinehitmanagency · 3 months
Text
Drawing Blaster with a shirt on is like seeing paranormal activity. You know it’s not normal and it’s not supposed to happen
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What is everyone's greatest fear in the Fazbear Frights House Au?
I'll try and explain what they fear:
Oswald [Note: Oswald doesn’t live in the house but I wanted to talk about him]: Oswald is scared of loosing his dad, he didn’t have much of a relationship with him but after the events of Into the Pit, he realised he would be devastated if he lost his father suddenly when he is still so young, worse yet, he is just so easily “replaced”.
Sarah: Trusting people, Eleanor taught a lesson of being careful who you trust and let into your life. Sarah is worried she will trust the wrong person again if she isn’t careful.
Millie: Dying before her time, Millie hasn’t even graduated or gotten a job yet, she wants to experience life, Funtime Freddy to her is the symbol of the Grim Reaper as he stalks her, like a ticking clock, Millie fears the time in her life will end abruptly with no second chance.
Greg: Making mistakes, Greg came from a home where making mistakes resulted in a physical punishment. Greg would rather not do anything if he thinks he'll make a mistake, this behaviour got +1000 worse after the events of Fetch because his own father took what happened as a reason to start attacking him more, especially unprovoked.
Alec: The dark, Alec only fears it because he doesn’t know what uses the dark as cover to sneak and creep around, there have been times when he has been too distressed to sleep as a result.
Hazel: Losing her brother, Hazel feels guilt around “loosing” him once before and only realising months later that it was an imposter the whole time and Alec was taken in by Lefty in the meantime.
Oscar: Oscar isn’t exactly scared of the dark, but if he hears a noise when it's completely dark, he'll be on edge and might turn on his flashlight to make sure it's not something bad.
Delilah: Being stuck in the same lifestyle forever, Delilah really wants to have a family, she knows she needs to get her shit together but she's scared that it might take too long, so she would rather prioritise trying to get a “life” without addressing her mental health. Lefty told her that mindset is a good way to end up in a toxic relationship.
Stanley: Sleeping in a room that doesn’t have a lock. Stanley can’t sleep if the room isn’t completely locked up.
Devon: Abandonment, Devon doesn’t talk much about it, but he's scared Lefty will eventually get so frustrated by him and just abandons him without saying anything, essentially “throwing [him] away” (I would like to explain this in a story at some point because it's quite complex).
Pete: Total paralysis, Pete has had some episodes of sleep paralysis during which he feels helpless, he has visions about having his other eye ripped out by Foxy while being unable to move or scream for help. Not being to move or talk terrifies Pete beyond anything else.
Chuck: Running out of air, Chuck has asthma and he has had some close calls before. Chuck hates the feeling of loosing his air and being unable to take in any breath to save himself.
Kasey [doesn’t live in the house also but she is present at some points]: Being alone with men she doesn’t trust, she has had some bad experiences and doesn’t like reliving them at all.
Bob: Being so unaware that something happens to his family, it ties into how he sometimes wakes up at 2 AM to make sure all the doors and windows are closed, he doesn’t want to sleep knowing a door may be unlocked.
Matt: Ah yes jerk supreme, what does he fear? Getting sick, he doesn’t like how his body might betray him, he will deny that he's sick, until he passes out in front of people.
Arthur: Being taken advantage of, Arthur likes to believe the best in everyone, of course it kind of changes when Arthur is attacked one day by a street thug and nearly beaten to death.
Lefty: Losing any of his kids, he has had a few nightmares about losing them and gets extremely upset (he tries not to display that he's upset as to try and avoid making the kids worried).
Fetch: Losing Greg, which is why he purposely led Greg to Lefty so he would help Greg. He also hates being ignored/neglected/forgotten and gets worried about it potentially happening.
Ralpho: He will act like he's not scared of anything, but he's scared of the vacuum cleaner.
Spring JR: The scary “purple rabbit”.
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corinthbayrpg · 3 years
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NAME. Julian ‘Jules’ Baccay AGE & BIRTH DATE. 25 & January 11th, 1996 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him SPECIES. Shapeshifter ( Fox ) OCCUPATION. Attendant at Acheron, Apprentice at Inkubus FACE CLAIM. Evan Mock
BIOGRAPHY
Theeran doesn’t quite remember much of his home life before he moved in with his father and even that is brief. He remembers men gathered around a table playing cards in the kitchen and visits to his aunt’s house. Visits grew longer and then one day he wasn’t seeing his father at all. It felt like some kind of foreshadowing for the future, his upbringing in Leicester was nothing to write home about. 
It made sense why he’d been shipped off, or at least he thought so, when he realized what he was and from there what his aunt was, what they all were. He’d been young, hardly a boy of ten who’d thought his two older cousins just had really active imaginations. They talked of Fenrir and their ties to him as he was some sort of original shifter. While he’d believed what they were, he thought a lot of what they spoke of was surely just some kind of myth. 
Until he’d shifted for the first time. He remembers pain and confusion and then being surrounded by fellow foxes. There were worse things to turn into, in the grand scheme of things, he’d lucked out. Looking back, he does feel a little bad for his aunt having to then deal with three foxes running around her house making problems on purpose. 
And make problems they did. 
His cousins had never really bothered with him all that much aside from telling him about animals and waxing about magic. They were opposites, the two older boys were mischievous, liked pulling pranks, were messy. Theeran was organized and quiet, spent a lot of time to himself drawing, but when he did manage to get the two of them back for their shenanigans, it was carefully crafted and more elaborate. With the three of them on friendlier terms, his poor aunt and schoolmates were often plagued by the tricky triad. 
At least until they got older and the eldest boy went off to university and the second wasn’t far off. To be closer, they moved to London and Theeran entered his junior year of secondary school as the new kid. He’d taken the loss of his cousins hard, had a handful of friends back home but they’d been fair weather and they hadn’t known of shifters and magic. It was perhaps the fear of being alone that had him quick to seek out alliances. 
Kasey was another new student and it was apparent from the pins on her backpack and far away look in her eyes that she wasn’t quite going to fit into the box they were meant to be put in. What started as an orientation became a friendship unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. A bit of an oddball, but a sweet one, she had dreams and aspirations and made a point to ask him about his own. Which led him to realizing he hadn’t quite thought ahead that far but they’d both decided they hadn’t wanted to just go the ordinary route, didn’t want to just go to university, get a job, work, and then die. 
So at seventeen, on the cusp of graduation, they got two train tickets and started off on an adventure. 
They had money that they’d saved from their after school jobs and what Theeran’s absent mother had left him. From there he’d just listened to Kasey’s dream locations and planned their whole trip, or at least as much of it as he could. Part of the point had been to sort of just go wherever Kasey’s little heart wanted to go and he just quietly supported her in her journey, enjoying meeting other supernaturals along the way. 
They went all over Europe, would stick around in a place for a couple of weeks at a time before moving on for a year or so. When money got low, Kasey broke out the tarot cards or rune stones to tell fortunes, he sold some sketches or small paintings, managed to win at cards, or did some odd jobs. It was simple living for the most part, some days were better than others, but they were seeing the world and he wasn’t in a dead end job or toiling through some art school. It was real world experience, he couldn’t get that behind a desk or writing essays. 
Except the world wasn’t always kind to dreamers. 
As hard as he tried to keep Kasey from worrying about anything, sometimes the reality of their situation weighed heavily on his best friend and there’d be times where they couldn’t find or afford decent housing, where they had little to no food. It was a heavy burden on him, being a sort of caretaker, being the rock, the man with a plan, but it was worth it to see her smile, to see her discovering herself and her power. 
But that was just the tip of the iceberg. 
They’d ran into a good amount of fellow supernaturals over time, older, younger, their age and on their own journeys. But not everyone they met was friendly and it’s not like they weren’t aware of what could lurk in the dark. They kept a strict curfew, both tried to be back to their lodgings before dark, but a card game ran too long, or maybe it was that his luck had run out for the evening, and he found himself cornered by vampires.
Some dapper man showed up and chastised them before they could really take a bite out of them. He himself had been a vampire but compared to the others who had been quick to swarm, he seemed entirely too composed. David Hamilton was the most human vampire that he’d ever met. 
From what he’d learned over the years, shifters were the protector’s of humanity and vampires couldn’t be trusted to do much aside from harm it. So he had his reservations when it came to them, and yet he owed this one his life and he had to think about Kasey. He was the man with a plan after all, and the plan was to stay alive, he couldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Or a well off vampire with a nice house in Cambridge. 
It wasn’t a permanent thing, life was easier for sure, but it wasn’t all that long until the pair was itching to get going again. The pair inevitably set out again, seeking to know more about magic and find out more about themselves in the process. Occasionally they find themselves staying at one of David’s several castles, Theeran can’t find it in himself not to stay in touch with the man who’d shown them such kindness. 
So when David calls to tell him that he���s got a place in Greece with a spare room, Theeran is quick to take him up on the offer. Not only is Greece beautiful, but Corinth in particular has been rumored to be the home to supernatural shenanigans that he can’t quite turn away from. 
PERSONALITY
+ astute, pragmatic, creative - headstrong, prying, overly ambitious
PLAYED BY M. CST. She/Her.
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mashtonasfuck · 4 years
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(Moodboard by @pxrxmoore, title card by me!)
This is part of the writers collab organised by @maluminspace and @h0tsos! The entire masterlist of everyone’s work can be found here. 
Pairing: Luke Hemmings x Ashton Irwin
Prompts: 
Lashton Coffee Shop
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.”
Warnings: references to mental illness, sexual references
Word Count: 2.3K
A note from Lucy: This piece was largely inspired by this post that Beth sent me. A big thank you to the writers GC for helping me when I got stuck. Shout out to Beth for reading every draft, and helping me work out where I was going with this piece.
My masterlist can be found here
This work must not be reposted anywhere - I do not give my permission for it to appear anywhere other than on my blog, or on my ao3 page.
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Luke’s phone pinged, drawing his attention away from the cooking show he was watching.
> Wanna go and grab a coffee?
> Sure :) Alfred’s?
> Meet you there in 20?
> :)
Luke pulled himself off the sofa, humming quietly as he gathered his wallet and keys. A coffee message from Ashton usually meant that something was bothering him, even if he didn’t know it yet. Luke’s phone pinging again broke him out of his musings - Ashton had tagged him in a post on Instagram. Swiping the notification open, Luke was met with a photo of the two of them, smiling as he tapped the like button. His eyes drifted down to the caption, smile turning into a frown:
Today I am feeling nostalgic about how much time I spent picking this man's brain whilst making Youngblood. We nurtured each other out of a very lonely and dark place. I am happy we made it out of those times. Love you @Luke5SOS. We are fighters.
There was definitely something bothering Ashton, and Luke was determined to find out what it was.
Luke saw Ashton sat outside as he approached the coffee shop, fingers drumming on the tabletop, leg bouncing. His stomach twisted uncomfortably as he took in the sight of the other man - Ashton was anxious about something. Luke slid into the seat opposite him, but the older man didn’t even notice his presence. He cleared his throat and Ashton looked up at him startled. 
“You okay there, Ash?” 
The older man chuckled quietly pushing Luke’s coffee towards him.
“Was lost in my thoughts, sorry man. How are you?”
Luke took the lid off the coffee cup and looked at Ashton. The older man looked tired, his smile not quite meeting his eyes. Luke took a sip of his coffee before replying,
“Cut the crap, Ash, what’s wrong?”
“What d’you -”
Luke cut him off with a wave of his hand.
“Ash, I’ve known you long enough to know that something is bothering you. You only message me about coffee if there’s something you want to talk about, but don’t want Calum to know.” Luke ran a hand through his hair before continuing, “After everything we’ve both been through, you don’t have to keep up appearances for me. Just tell me what’s wrong, please.”
Ashton let out a breath and brought his coffee up to his lips, avoiding Luke’s gaze. The younger man was right - there was something bothering him - he just didn’t know how to tell him. Ashton knew he was being ridiculous. The last year and a half had really strengthened his bond with the blonde man, and Luke knew things about him that Michael and Calum still didn’t. They’d pull each other up when the other was falling, both seeing each other at some of their lowest moments. Ashton was grateful for Luke’s presence in his life - he was grateful for all three of his bandmates - but his relationship with Luke had shifted whilst they were writing Youngblood. Ashton knew that Luke had saved him from making some stupid life-choices, and he knew that Luke felt the same. He looked up at Luke, the younger man watching him patiently, blue eyes full of concern. Ashton sucked in a breath, it was now or never.
“Luke, I -” movement behind Luke’s left shoulder cut him off, gaze landing on the paparazzo that was making his way towards them. Ashton swore - why could they never leave them the fuck alone? He sighed heavily, motioning for a bemused Luke to stand and follow him into the safety of the coffee shop. Ashton scanned the room for an empty table, groaning when he couldn’t find one. Why was the universe playing him like this today?
“Hey, Ashton?” His gaze fell on one of the girls behind the counter, “We have an upstairs that I can open up for you if you want?” 
He opened his mouth to reply, Luke cutting him off - 
“That would be great, Kasey, thank you.” 
Ashton raised an eyebrow at Luke being on first name terms with the barista, the younger man just shaking his head and pushing past Ashton to follow her up the stairs. 
“You gonna tell me what that was about?” Luke asked Ashton once they’d sat themselves down in one of the booths.
“Paps,” Ashton muttered. 
Luke huffed in annoyance before resting his elbows on the table, waiting for Ashton to speak. He knew better than to push him to talk - the older man sometimes struggled to articulate his feelings, and Luke could tell that this was one of those times. He rested his chin on his left hand, bringing his coffee up to take a sip. The flavour danced on his tongue and he hummed quietly at the vanilla coming through against the bitter coffee. He met Ashton’s gaze as he lowered the cup, the older man looking at him with a soft smile on his face. Luke stuck his tongue out at Ashton, earning a chuckle from the other man. 
“I love you, Luke.” The younger man smirked at Ashton’s words and rolled his eyes.
“Love you too, Ash, you know that.” 
Ashton shifted in his seat, looking at the blonde man in front of him. Why was this so hard?
“No, Lu, I -” Ashton sucked in a breath, here goes nothing, “I think I’m in love with you.”
Ashton’s voice was barely a whisper, but he knew that Luke had heard him from the way his eyes widened at his confession. It hung in the air between them, and Ashton wondered if he should have just kept it to himself. He looked away from Luke, closing his eyes and bringing his hands up to rub his temples. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything, and now Luke was going to hate him, and it was going to ruin the band, and - 
“Well, that’s good considering I think I’m in love with you too.” Ashton’s eyes flew open and he looked up at Luke. The younger man smiled at him lazily before continuing, “Mike kept saying that I should just tell you, but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Cal said the same thing when I told him how I felt about you.” Ashton admitted, a smile on his face.
“Those assholes, they clearly spoke to each other.” 
Ashton laughed at Luke’s outburst, making a mental note to pull them up on it later. He moved his hand across the table towards Luke, the younger man entwining their fingers eagerly. They sat in comfortable silence as they finished their drinks, Luke absentmindedly rubbing small circles on the side of Ashton’s thumb, earning him a hum of appreciation from the drummer. Luke blushed, glancing at the man opposite - Ashton was looking at him intently. 
“Hey, um, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.” 
Luke frowned at Ashton’s words, the older man continuing quickly as he sensed Luke’s confusion. 
“What I mean is - fuck, why is this so hard?” Ashton ran a hand through his hair as he looked at Luke, “you know me better than anyone else, Lu, and I really don’t want to mess this up. You’ve seen me at my worst, and somehow you’re still sticking around and I have no idea why.”
“Ash, it’s because I know all those things about you.” Luke smiled softly at the frown that appeared on the drummer’s face. “You were there for me too, remember? I basically had a breakdown, Ash, and you were there through it all. You saved me. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.”
Ashton squeezed Luke’s hand, the singer laughing quietly and squeezing back. He knew that he didn’t have to use words for Luke to know how he felt. The drummer leaned across the table and tucked a strand of Luke’s hair behind his ear, the younger man leaning into his touch. Ashton hummed quietly as he rubbed the side of Luke’s jaw, eyes glancing down at the other man’s lips. Luke smiled softly, shifting forward on his chair to bring his face closer to Ashton’s. Ashton swallowed the lump in his throat, wetting his lips as Luke moved to close the gap between them.
Ashton’s phone vibrated loudly on the table, causing both men to jump back from each other in shock. Ashton swore quietly, Calum’s face showing up on the screen as the phone continued vibrating on the tabletop. He sighed, shooting Luke an apologetic glance before picking it up and swiping to answer the call.
“Hey Cal, what’s up?”
Luke could vaguely hear Calum saying something about taking Duke out and Ashton groaned.
“Sorry man, I totally forgot - m’actually out with Luke at the moment.” Ashton gave Luke a soft smile, reaching back across the table to thread their fingers together.
“Yeah, we just grabbed a coffee, we’re at Alfred’s. Wha- hang on a minute Cal.”
Michael’s ringtone blared out of Luke’s pocket, the singer pulling his hand out of Ashton’s to grab the phone before bringing it up to his ear.
“Hi Mike. M’out with Ash at the moment, can I call you back?” Ashton shook his head furiously at Luke’s words, the younger man raising an eyebrow as Ashton smirked. “Actually Mike, hold on a sec.”
“Cal, I’m just gonna put you on speaker for a bit - Luke has Michael on the phone, and we need to talk to you about something.” Ashton grinned at Luke as he put Calum on speaker, the blonde man frowning slightly as he did the same with Michael. 
“You’re on speaker with Ash and Cal, Mike.”
“We need to talk to you both.” Ashton explained, the grin on his face growing wider at the confused look on Luke’s face. 
Calum and Michael both said that they were listening, Ashton smirking at Luke before speaking.
“So, Luke and I discovered something very interesting just now. It seems like you’ve both been speaking to each other about us behind our backs - anything to say?”
There was silence from both phones for a second, before Michael finally spoke.
“It was Calum’s fault!”
“Michael what the fuck, man?!”
“Shut up Cal - look guys, Calum told me that Ashton had been talking to him about something, and all I said was that hypothetically you’d said something similar Luke, so I didn’t tell him exactly -” Calum started to protest, Luke and Ashton glancing at each other in amusement.
“Boys, please!” Ashton spoke over them both, the phones going silent again. “Luke and I talked and… well we decided we’re just better off as friends.” 
The singer’s mouth fell open at Ashton’s words, the drummer just rolling his eyes and intertwining their fingers again. Luke looked down at their joined hands, then back at Ashton, understanding finally hitting him. He stuck his tongue out at Ashton before speaking.
“Yeah, we don’t think it’ll work out honestly.”
The silence from both phones made Ashton check they were both still connected, both clearly trying to process what had just been said.
Calum was the first to speak, expressing his disappointment, but if they’d decided it was best then he supported them either way. Michael agreed with the bassist, telling Luke he’d call him later before they both disconnected their calls. 
Luke burst out laughing after both phones disconnected, tugging Ashton back across the table towards him and finally pressing their lips together. Ashton hummed quietly, threading his fingers in the singer’s hair as they broke apart, resting their foreheads together as he spoke quietly.
“Wanna come back to mine?” 
Luke hummed in response, before pulling himself out of Ashton’s hold and placing his phone back in his pocket.
“I need to go and let Petunia out first, that okay?” 
Ashton nodded, standing up from his chair and gathering their empty coffee cups. 
“Let’s go and let that giant dog of yours out, and then we can order food for dinner maybe?”
“Sounds like a plan, Ash.”
Calum let himself into Ashton’s house, dinner in one arm and Duke in the other - he figured that Ashton would probably want company after an awkward conversation with Luke. He walked into the kitchen placing the food on the side and made his way towards the living room with Duke whining to get free from his hold.
“In a sec, Duke, just wanna check -”
Calum stopped dead in the doorway, taking in the sight on the couch before him.
“Are you kidding me?!”
Luke yelped as he heard Calum’s voice, pushing Ashton off him and scrambling to pull the blanket off the back of the couch.
“Lu, what -” Ashton saw Calum standing in the doorway and he groaned. “Uh, hi Cal - what’re you doing here?”
Calum smirked at his bandmates before pulling his phone out of his pocket and pressing it to his ear, letting Duke out into the garden as he waited for the call to connect.
“Hey Mike - you owe me $200.”
Luke groaned at Calum’s words, hiding his face in Ashton’s shoulder. Ashton pressed his lips to the top of Luke’s head as Calum continued speaking to Michael.
“Mmhmm, I just walked into the living room and Ashton had Luke’s dick down his throat. Was kinda hot actually - never thought Ash was a bottom.”
Ashton grabbed the TV remote off the coffee table and launched it at Calum.
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Text
House Edge
Title:  House Edge (COMPLETE)
Characters/Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester
Summary: You're on a Girls Trip to Vegas and meet a certain hunter at the buffet.
Word Count:  9,100
Warnings: fluff, flirting, gambling, strip club, private dance, mild language
A/N:  My first reader insert try. I'm thinking this is sometime around Season 7. Maybe the annual pilgrimage to Vegas when Becky whammies Sam. The majority of events that unfold will probably be right before Dean gets the text from Sam to meet up with him. Thunder From Down Under probably wasn't at Vegas yet - who knows - artistic license and all that. Also, I don't have an extensive knowledge of gambling, so most of what you'll read is from what I've Googled. If something is terribly wrong, feel free to let me know. But, I tried to stay in the vague zone.
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Your head pounded and sloshed from the one too many Malibu Bay Breezes you’d ingested during the “Thunder From Down Under” show that ended minutes ago. Three of the nine others in your group were still hooting and hollering at the oil slicked row of hyper muscled, surreal Australian blokes on stage. In addition to the baby oil, the men were bathing in the estrogen overload and accolades washing over them. Wads of cash, stuffed into the glittery floss substituting as underwear, stuck to aforementioned oil slicked skin.
It had been fun, there was no doubt. But the lights and the music and the rabid female reactions were hitting you all at once. Kasey pulled you by the elbow and screamed in your ear. “Wanna get a photo with Faux Fabio?” She pointed to the long-haired blond Adonis with a shoulder span the width of a football field.
You frowned. “How much is that going to run me?”
“Shannon!” Kasey called across the table, still too close to your delicate ear drums. “How much to rub up to one of ‘em?” You were glad you weren’t sharing a room with Kasey. She’d be hurling in the toilet for most of the night after the number of Tequila shots she’d downed. So far. And the night was relatively early. Especially for Vegas.
“Thirty bucks, I think.” Shannon shrugged, paying more attention to her phone.
You shook your head. Your single status and mid-level office job already had you on a strict budget for this girls’ getaway weekend. “I’m good. Besides, the more up close I get, the more disappointed I think I’ll be.” Shannon nodded with a smirk in agreement, still staring at her screen.
Kasey huffed. “Well, Linda, Stacey and Mira are already in line. I’m going to see if I can cut!” She dashed off without another word.
Women skirted and pushed past your standing frame. You tried to become one with the table in front of you. Anything to avoid being pulled into the stampede or thrown to the ground, and mercilessly stomped on by stilettos and sneakers.
Even Shannon looked a bit miffed at the onslaught as you stared at her in a half-cry for help. “My God.” She rolled her eyes.
“Where did Cathy and that bunch disappear to?” You yelled over.
“Who knows?”
You sighed. “What was next on the itinerary?”
“I think any plans are out the window. Every woman for herself.” Shannon tapped on her phone. “My little one’s running a fever. I’m going to get back to the hotel room so I can check in at home.”
You nodded. The only thing waiting for you at home was your tabby, Tyrion. Your Grandma-type neighbor down the hall, Gladys, had offered to cat sit. So there was no one, human or feline, actually waiting for you back in your one-bedroom apartment in Albuquerque.
Holding your breath, you pushed yourself into the crowd, moving against the current towards the exit instead of the line for photos. The quadruple threat of your old college pals was screaming in line about which stripper had the tightest ass.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to have a good time or ogle good looking men. Far from it. But gambling was more your scene anyway. You had a pretty good teacher with your last boyfriend when it came to Blackjack. You breathed a sigh of relief when you shimmied out of the entertainment venue and stepped foot onto the busy carpet of the Excaliber’s casino floor. Your phone read 9:10 pm. There was still plenty of time to lose your shirt.
You’d popped a few aspirin and downed a whole bottle of water in the sitting area of the women’s bathroom, hoping to fend off a killer hangover in the morning. A quick reapplication of lipstick and you were ready to scope out a good table.
After about an hour, you’d split, hit, and stood with the best of them at one table. There’d been one experienced player, Ron, that looked like he’d planted roots in the seat next to you. He got to talking, as the old timers usually did, and you’d learned he was born and raised in Reno. You had a nice little chat with Ron and Stevie, the female dealer, and fended off a few men who sat on the other side and hit on you more than the cards they were dealt.
“That is not a bad takeaway, there.” Ron nodded when you decided to cash out.
“Thanks. Pleasure, Ron. You take care.”
“You too, pretty lady. Remember what I said about Roulette. You should try it once.”
The betting chips clinked in your plastic souvenir cup. “I might.”
He tipped you a two-finger salute. You wandered, your stomach empty. The buffet to end all buffets calling your name.
“Fuck it.” After turning most of your chips into cash at the counter, leaving one $50 chip in your jean pocket, you headed for the International food amalgamation that guaranteed intense heartburn and bloating in the morning.
Fluorescent lights and sneeze shields presented you with choices beyond comprehension. You grabbed a large plate and planned your method of attack. One of your pink manicured nails tapped on the bottom of the china. “Ease into it.” You decided to go with the Mediterranean spread first. Before you knew it, there were helpings of General Tso’s chicken, pizza, potstickers, mashed potatoes and French fries, along with some bratwurst and sauerkraut. The grumbling from your tummy may have been a warning when you sat down at the table for two, alone, on the cafeteria style floor. The waitress gave you a tired smile when she dropped off your iced tea.
You shoveled some sauce drenched chicken into your mouth and took in the scene. People floating around, getting up for seconds or thirds, talking about how much money they lost or won, what shows they should try to see while they were in Vegas. You chewed and stared at the formidable back of a man at the table directly ahead of you. He’d give Faux Fabio a run for his money. He had fluffy, long brown hair. His animated storytelling hands got your attention. You heard a deep chuckle and slurp from his table sharer, out of your view because of the mountain man. “Alright,” the man stated, “Going to give the Poker Room another go. Coming?”
“Nah.” The very deep voice replied. “I’ve still gotta hit the dessert line.” 
You watched the man rise from his seat, floored by how tall he was. And, when he turned, you saw how very cute he was. You’d have paid thirty bucks to snap a picture with this man. He gave you a sweet little smile when he walked past. You couldn’t help but look over your shoulder and take in the rest of him as he left. Smacking your lips and shaking your head, you turned back to your plate to resume the dent made in the food. Your eyes darted up to look at the man left alone at the table. You were pretty sure your mouth gaped open at the sight of him, staring at you. He wiped at his face with a napkin.
Oh my. If the man that left appeared sweet and cute with just a smile, this one was a boatload of sexy and trouble with that smirk. You could tell by the way he took his time inventorying you with care, chewing slow the whole time. One side of his lip curled up in another grin variation. He nodded at you in greeting from across both tables. You smiled back and then pretended to stare at your food. He tossed the napkin on his plate and stood up. You peeked up and noted he was layered in a couple shirts and broken in jeans, like his partner. Not quite as tall; but, still very tall in your estimation. You wondered what he’d look like in a g-string and bathed in baby oil.
And, oh boy. He was walking straight over to your table. Yep, he was very tall, by the way you had to tilt your head backwards when he strolled up. He smacked his lips, disrupting the beaming smile before he spoke. “That was my little brother you were checking out. Want me to give you his number?”
You had to lean back in your seat a bit more. “Um. No, that’s okay.” Geez, he was pretty. Holy Facial Symmetry Batman! 
He nodded, then smiled again. “Want to give me your number?”
You had to chuckle at the bravado. “Does that work for you a lot?”
He shrugged. “Works enough.”
“I don’t doubt it.” You decided to play along. “How long are you in Vegas?”
His brows rose up. “Just tonight.”
You tisked. “Not enough of a time commitment for what I’d want to do.”
He chuckled this time. “Is that so?”
You nodded.
He pointed to your plate. “Can I get you anything? I’m heading back up.”
“I think this should tide me over for a while. But, thanks.”
His jaw clenched. “Can I join you when I get back?”
What the hell. “Sure.” You smiled.
*
“Man, you almost kept up with me.” Dean sighed and rubbed his tummy after his third dessert plate.
“Hardly.” You were only working on your second serving of what might be considered actual food. A half hour had passed, you sitting with this veritable stranger. Talking about nothing of much importance, but having a grand time flirting, enjoying his rough and rugged demeanor and the boyish charm. One of your palms hit the tabletop. “I’m tapping out.”
“Not much for sweets?” He leaned in and studied you. Stunning green eyes twinkled with mischief. He batted the kind of lashes you could only get with a thick coating of mascara. “Or are you already sweet enough?”
“Is this like an Ocean’s Eleven thing?”
His smile dropped, waiting for you to elaborate. “Come again?”
“Am I like some unwitting part of a huge con job going down in the money room right now?”
He chuckled. “I’m not following, sweetheart.”
“Why are you sitting here with me?”
“Are you kidding?” He leaned way back in his chair, teetering on the back two legs. An arm swept out from his side in your direction. “Have you seen yourself?”
You pursed your lips. “Please.”
He raised a hand. “I’m not going to try and convince you. But I may take advantage. Commandeer more of your time, since you think you don’t deserve mine.”
“So you are a con man.”
He shook his head. That smile could only belong to the most skilled grifter. “If I was a good con man, I’d have more than a hundred dollars to my name after half a day in this ‘It’s a Small World’ casino.”
“It is a bit Disneyfied, isn’t it?”
A shrug. “Well, it’s cleaner than the ones near the motel Sam and I are staying at, so that’s a plus.”
The plate of food in front of you looked less and less appetizing as the seconds passed. Pushing it away, you really wanted to dig into the dessert that was Dean. But you’d only had two one-night stands in your life. Neither one was spectacular and left you full of regret that you’d had them to begin with. But this man. Oh, you had a feeling this man would love you and leave you with a million other regrets and create an addiction you’d never be able to fulfill again. What was that saying? Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. This man was surging all kinds of wants in your head. If you got a taste, you knew you were done for.
His voice rumbled like a storm cloud and pulled you out of your thoughts. “What’s up for the rest of your night?”
You grinned, wanting to tease out this time with him for as long as possible. Skirt on the edge of a pond of possibilities and drown in those sometimes sea green colored eyes. “I told you there’s not enough time if you’re leaving tonight.”
“Pretty good at completing a task quickly and efficiently.” He licked his lips. “I mean, taking my time, yeah, that’s always ideal. But, if we’re pressed for time, sweetheart, I won’t disappoint.” His brow twitched up.
You sighed, sounding a little too loud and desperate for your liking. “Does a guarantee come with that claim?”
“How much of a gambler are you?” He deflected the question with another.
“I enjoy it.”
“I might be worth taking a chance on, then.”
“Hm. I met a nice old man while playing black jack tonight. He talked about odds and luck and the house edge and why he loves cards, black jack especially. It works his brain and he can play for hours and not lose his shirt.”
Dean smiled. “So, what kind of hand am I? Soft or hard?”
You grinned at the innuendo, trying to keep your train of thought on its track.  You leaned across the table. He mirrored your action, meeting you halfway. His hands clasped together on the surface, forearms firm and locked. The closest stare you’d shared. 
Both thumbs lifted up in his grip and he nodded a fraction with his chin. “Well, what’s the verdict?” You could smell apples, cinnamon, and vanilla on his breath; courtesy of his indulgence in pie ala mode and his slightly parted mouth. He came into full focus now. Freckles dotting the tops of his cheeks and sprinkled across his nose. Lips that were perfect, puffy and pronounced. Sharp edges and soft curves. He watched you inventory him as he did the same, eyes scanning, crinkles emerging around them when he smiled and you thought he found something he especially liked about your visage. The gamblers and diners dropped away from your periphery. The piped in music and frantic sounds locked away in a vacuum, muffled and mumbling like the adults in those Peanuts cartoons you loved to watch when you were little.  
“Neither. You are in no way a safe bet. You’ve got a major house edge.” Your answer came out lower than intended. The slight mix of surprise and disappointment on his face at the answer made you clear your throat. You continued. “So, why gamble in the first place? Cause there’s always the slightest chance you’ll get lucky and hit it big. Flip a coin and see where it’ll land.”
The smile returned and he shot stick-straight in his seat. “I’ve got plenty of coins.” He began to rifle through a jacket pocket. “Two out of three?” You held back a giggle at his eagerness.
“I’ve got one right here.” You dug the chip out of your jean pocket. The plastic disc twirled between your fingers. “Wanna see where it lands?”
His eyes widened. “Big spender. What’re we betting?”
It was your turn to lean back. “Depends. How lucky do you feel?”
He chuckled. “Stakes? And, then I’ll let you know.”
You swallowed. “Well, Ron, the old man, was explaining that Roulette has the best House Edge for the casino. Over five percent in their favor that a player loses. Think you can be my lucky charm and push those odds in my favor?”
He nodded. “What we talkin’? Street or split bet?”
The man knew his games. You smiled. “Straight up.”
His head tilted back. “Whoa. That’s a helluva lot of luck.” A finger pointed back and forth between the both of you. “I help you hit the jackpot and…”
You grinned. “You hit the jackpot. Call the shots for the rest of the night. We go wherever. Do whatever.”
His lips curled into an “O” as he tried to hold back his own grin. He nodded in thought. “If you lose?”
You shrugged. “Buy me a drink at the nearest bar, share some more stories, then we shake hands and say it was nice meeting the other.”
He raised his hands. “Well, I will take those odds. Let’s go find us a wheel.” His tall frame bolted out of his seat, beaming a smile at you.
Your heart sped up. There was no way he was winning this bet. But he seemed up for spending a little more time with you regardless. And that said something. You reached into your purse to drop a tip on the table but he’d already beat you to it.
“Lead the way, sweetheart.”
You nodded and wandered from the restaurant to the massive casino floor. He towered next to your side, the elbow of his jacket brushing against the sheer material covering your biceps. He smelled amazing. When you stopped in the middle of the floor to get your bearings and looked up to ask what direction you both should head, you found him gazing at your cleavage in the strappy surplice top. The look on his face shot straight to your core.
His eyebrows shot up at the realization he’d been caught ogling. “What’s wrong?”
A flush of warmth flooded your face. “We’re using your luck here. You pick the table.”
“Lot of pressure.” He mumbled.
“Lot at stake.” You countered.
“Alright.” He nodded to the right. You followed him, weaving through the crowd, now having the chance to notice his bowlegs and how very wide his shoulder span was. He was wearing entirely too many layers to your liking. But, you got to bathe in the wake of his scent and imagine how very pert that ass was under that denim. He halted without warning and you put the brakes on your stride, inches before careening into his back. His fingers pointed three tables over. “That one.” He looked over his right shoulder and grinned, finding your body and face quite close. “Step right up.”
You took the lead again and inhaled and exhaled deep, taking the one empty seat at the Roulette table. The wheel was currently in motion, the ball spinning, holding the breath of every gambler with a stake on the result. You heard the clicking of the ball along the slots as the rotation slowed, deciding on its destination.
Dean slid his standing frame along your right. He was warm, solid. He tipped down to whisper in your ear. “Sure you wanna go for a straight bet? Making me think you don’t even want a little fun time with me. We could lower the stakes. I’d be more than happy to let you call the shots for the rest of the night.” The offer dripped out of his voice with a deep intensity, low and tempting.
You would not meet his eyes again, already picturing the sexy smirk on his face. He would distract you, make you cave. “Nope.” You responded. “All in. Go big or go home.” You pulled out the chip from your pocket as the winning number was called. A mixture of whoops and grumbles emerged from the dealer’s announcement. Chips were swept over and around the table.
He sighed and rose up, waiting for the table to be cleared and for the dealer to tell everyone to place their bets. “Okay. What number?”
Your mind reeled with the possibilities. “When’s your birthday?” You asked.
“Seriously?” He chuckled.
“Yep.” Your eyes wandered over the red and black numbers on the green felt board. The all clear was called and chips scattered in place with both hurried and tentative fingers of various betters.
“January 24th.”
“So, we could go with 1 or 24. Red or black?”
Your body startled with the pressure of his hand at the small of your back. “Black.”
“24 it is then.” You gulped and placed the chip with care over the number. It rested there alone, a single play amid a multitude of others.
His fingers tapped against your skin in anticipation. “Well, it was fun while it lasted.” He joked. “Maybe as a parting gift you’ll give me your number.”
You smiled, focusing on the slight swirl of his fingers now, imagining what they could do to other parts of your body.
“No more bets.” The dealer called and waved a hand over the table. The wheel spun in one direction. The ball clicked and whirled in its lane in the other.
You thought about what Blackjack Ron had said earlier. Roulette, straight bet odds were 35 to 1. You could view that bet as a drowning man’s last ditch effort to keep their head above the water’s surface. Hold out for that raft to save them, give them a second chance to get things right. Or, you could view it as something as simple as hope. Hope that great things sometimes happen when you take a risk. You should try it once. That’s what Ron had said. 
You closed your eyes as the wheel slowed and the ball eased in its race for the finish line. You replayed that little mantra, the pep talk you’d give yourself every once in a while in your bathroom mirror. Failure is always a possibility when you try. But so is success.
The dealer announced the winning number. 
Dean’s fingers froze. “Holy fucking shit!” He bellowed.
Your eyes jolted open. The dealer placed a tiny marker on “24 Black.” Your mouth dropped open and watched the chips stack up in front of you.
“Holy fucking shit!” Dean repeated. “How much is that?”
You blinked, then repeated the calculation out loud you had figured out when you threw out the dare. “One thousand, seven hundred, and fifty dollars.”
“Wow!” You looked up and assessed his face. He was floored and amazed, like a kid that was just told he had free reign in a toy store. “That’s… that’s some luck.”
“All you.” You grinned.
The compliment took him aback. There was the slightest hint of blush on those cheeks.
You motioned to the winnings. “Okay, grab some and let’s cash out. Half of this is yours.”
Even more amazement. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“I’m feeling generous.” You packed the chips into your purse. He stuffed some into his pockets. When you rose up, a jolt of adrenaline pushed you into a new territory of action. One filled with courage. You took your time and slithered close to his standing frame. Let parts of your body sweep along his. His brows rose higher than you’d seen so far that night. “Looks like you’re calling the shots now, Dean. We go wherever. Do whatever.”
A delicious lick of his lips followed your statement. His eyes dazzled with thoughts. “Let’s get out of here.”
*
You’d walked with him along the strip for what felt like forever. He’d gotten you a cup of frozen yogurt for part of the adventure. The warm air and pulse of Vegas fed your lingering alcohol buzz. Dean was just as intoxicating. He talked in cryptic paragraphs about him and his brother’s nomadic lifestyle. You laughed at his dirty jokes, both basking in the artificial glow surrounding you and the high of winning. But you, most importantly, let go of the decision making. 
A turn off the busy, fluorescent lit thoroughfare landed you in a much more adult amusement area of the city. And, you had an inkling, heading in the direction of Dean’s motel. You’d finished the last bit of your treat and tossed the empty cup and spoon into a nearby trash can when he stopped to read the flashing sign of a venue. 
His rapt stare forced you to look up and see what he was focusing on. The amber neon depicted the figure of a voluptuous female with flowing hair, one leg wrapped around a bright white pole. You read the name of the establishment out loud. “Sapphire Gentlemen’s Club?”
He turned to you and grinned. “Been in one of these before?”
You felt your brow scrunch together. “Well, no.”
He walked over to the glass door covered in dark film. “Well, let’s go, then.”
“Really? This is what you want to do?”
“At this moment? Yes.” He opened the door and ushered you in. “My lady.”
You chuckled and shook your head. “Are you trying to test my comfort level or something?” The question breezed by his frame as you passed.
“Something like that.” He smiled.
You really didn’t know what to expect when you walked in. A bouncer looking dude waved you in after a quick survey. Dean’s hand was on your back again, as it had been off and on throughout the evening, leading you towards the dim section of tables and booths. It was packed with, from what you could see, a majority of male patrons with the occasional token female. The tables wrapped around a few circular stages with catwalks emerging from blue velvet curtains. A dozen or so topless females danced for the pleasure of their audiences. The bass of the music rumbled through your skin.
“Here.” Dean leaned in, pushing you to a free high top right by one of the stages. Enough light spilled onto the area that you spotted the kid in a toy store look on his face again when he took his seat.
You sat across, tearing your gaze from him to the ladies wrapped around poles, bronzed and oiled similar to the male counterparts you’d been hooting at earlier that evening.
“Thought you could see how the other half lives, after that Australian review.” Dean brought up the exact same thought, only he shivered in distaste. A wave of his hand requested the attention of one of the waitresses who thankfully, for you, wore a bit more than the dancers.
“Hello, lovelies. I’m Cherie. What can I get you?” She purred over to Dean and gave you a sweet smile, dropping napkins in front of your spots. Her bare glittery shoulders and cocoa skin made you crave chocolate for a second.
Dean’s lips quirked up in a smile. You realized he’d been giving your reaction more attention than the female with big onyx eyes and raven, wavy hair.  “I’ll have a bourbon. Top Shelf. Neat. What are you having, sweetheart?”
You shrugged, continuing the little game you’d started since he won the bet.
He nodded. “Same for this pretty little lady.” The waitress nodded, about to walk off, when Dean asked, “Oh, what’s it cost for a private show in the back?”
The waitress raised a pencil lined eyebrow. “Depends on who you want the show with.”
“Are you available?” Dean grinned.
She giggled. “I might be.”
“Well, if you are, let me know what it’d be for the both of us?”
“Will do, sweetie.” Cherie bounced off with a pronounced sway of her ample hips.
 Your mouth popped open. “What?”
“Whatever I want.” He reminded you with a lick of his lips. He leaned his forearms on the table. “You ever, ah…”
An awkward giggle erupted from your throat. “No.”
He shrugged and smiled. “Thought about it?”
“Maybe.”
That made Dean’s grin grow wider. “Well, it’s only a dance. You technically aren’t supposed to touch the ladies. Sometimes, though, you get lucky. And, the way my luck is going tonight… got to give it a shot.” His fingers brushed over the top of your hand. “Get something etched in my memory for repeat viewings later.”
The touch of his fingers, light and gentle, ticklish and thrilling, hit an itch you couldn’t quite scratch. You emitted something between a laugh and a sigh. “You’re going to blow all your winnings tonight on booze and boobs.”
“Worth it. I’m getting to spend it with a beautiful partner in crime.”
You sat with him and watched the show. A country tune blasted through the sound system. The ladies all sashayed back to the curtains, flinging them back with a dramatic flair. They disappeared only to be replaced by cowboy hat and boot wearing dancers. Daisy dukes rode so high up that half of their ass cheeks bulged out. Holsters, hung loose from their waists, held fake pistols that, when pulled out for use, were done so with the most phallic inducing reminders. And all had the perkiest, perfect breasts you’d ever seen.
His fingers tangled into yours about midway through the performance. “Thank God I’m a country boy.” He tipped his head about to the twang. “So, Albuquerque, huh?”
You attempted to track the conversation and not the feel of his warm skin tingling yours. The pads of his fingers were rough and worn, gritty but not harsh. You imagined what kind of work he did to get them that way. “Yeah. Moved there after college. Got a job at a big research company. Glorified office assistant, so just the mundane business stuff that helps keep everyone employed on the books, bills paid.”
“Research?” His smile softened, listening to you.
“Sustainable energy, nuclear weapons.”
His bottom lip jutted out as he nodded. “Like it?”
“More days than not.” Your eyes widened as one of the dancers provocatively licked the barrel of her toy gun. You couldn’t help but laugh in embarrassment. “Geez, I’ve never done that with a firearm.”
Dean chuckled. “What have you done with a firearm?”
“I’ve got a license to carry. My dad taught me how to shoot when I was around thirteen. He was a big time game hunter. Back in Colorado.” You didn’t bother to go into what happened to your parents. You wanted to keep the tone of the night light and fun.
“What do you carry?” Genuine interest spread over his face now.
“Walther PPQ. But I left it back home.” You smiled, realizing he was not put off and probably carried as well. “Are you packing?”
“Oh, I’m packing,” He grinned, “but my gun’s back at the motel. Not a good idea to mix Vegas nightlife and bullets, I’ve learned.” That sounded like a perfect lead-in for a story. But he only added. “M1911.”
You nodded then asked, “Country boy, huh?”
“Yep, Kansas.”
“We could have hit Stoney’s then.”
“You would have tried to get me to dance.” He nodded to the stage. “More fun to watch.”
Cherie returned, interrupting the flow of conversation with two tumblers of bourbon. After placing the glasses on the table and eyeing the way Dean gripped your hand, she leaned in close to his ear and whispered. You struggled to make it out, giving up when it proved pointless. His lids lifted a fraction. “Well, that sounds positively delightful, Cherie.” He added with a sexy swagger. “Think you can get yourself one of those cowgirl outfits?”
She nodded. “See what I can do. Jimmy’ll come by for you two in about a half hour then.” Another nearby table called her away.
Dean grabbed his glass and raised it for a toast. “To Vegas.”
You shook your head and clinked your glass with his, mumbling. “To Vegas.”
*
The sparkling beaded fringe curtaining the doorway was a nice touch. You pushed through the strands and took in where you’d be with Dean for the next twenty minutes, along with Cherie, who was on her way. It was enough privacy for an intimate dance. Safe enough, you imagined, that if one of the women had to call for an assist from a handsy client, someone could be there in a flash without impediment. Burly Jimmy, about a foot taller than Dean, seemed to be the bouncer/bodyguard for the ladies and waited outside in the hallway.
“Really playing up the Sapphire theme, huh?” You asked Dean for his thoughts on the decor. There were two blue velvet, plush armchairs in opposite corners of the tiny eight by eight space. Two of the walls were floor to ceiling glass and a tinted overhead light washed everything in shades of midnight blue.
“Fancy.” He teased. “One of the deluxe rooms.”
The two bourbons you had milked at the table for the last half hour had sizzled your senses with a warm euphoria. Almost like you were watching yourself in some sort of out of body experience. Had it really only been a few hours since you’d seen your girlfriends? You glanced at your watch and confirmed in the spin of your head it was a little after midnight. Your brain and body were wired and alert due to the proximity of this man pushing all your buttons tonight. It was raw, racy, a revelation in facets of sexiness you’d never had the honor of being in the presence of. Until tonight.
He’d teased with playful touches; flirted with that outlaw mouth; melted you with heated stares; worn you down with roguish charm; and hinted at some heavy shit  that made you wonder how broken he might be under all that attractive armor. The alcohol had let his guard down a few times.
“Hey.” Dean snapped his fingers and brought you back. “You still with me, beautiful? I think we need to cut you off.”
You clicked your tongue and shot him with your finger gun. “Might be right, partner.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. Think so.” He rubbed his hands together and spotted a touchscreen in the wall. “Huh, even get to pick the music. Real fancy.” He pointed to one of the chairs. “Get comfy.” He tapped some buttons. You slid into the cushion, trying not to imagine the amount of bodily fluids embedded in the fabric. It did smell nice and clean, almost antiseptic, so that settled one of your racing thoughts. Your stare lingered over at Dean, a pensive look on his face as he decided on the tracks. It had to be illegal for someone to be that handsome without even trying. “Damn, it’s hot in here.” He pulled off his jacket and one layer of flannel, draping them over the back of the empty chair. His simple black t-shirt strained over his shoulders, biceps, chest. The alcohol had to be part of the reason he looked so perfect. No way, you kept thinking, no one’s that perfect.
The beads parted and Cherie strolled into the room. She had certainly done what she could to honor Dean’s request. She wore the same white vinyl hot pants and matching color stripper pumps that comprised her waitress attire. But she’d gone full on country bumpkin with a plaid flannel tied in a knot under her push up bra, and a cowboy hat.
“Did you pick your tunes, Cowboy?” She flirted at Dean.
“Yep.” The wide, cheesy grin spread over his face.
“Have a seat, time’s a wastin’.” She was working the southern accent, too. Dean hopped onto the other seat cushion and wiggled his ass into position. He also wiggled his eyebrows like a cartoon villain at you. You giggled. 
Cherie tapped the screen. You were unsurprised by the country music that filled the room at a respectable volume. “Jimmy explain all the rules?” She asked and began to gyrate her hips to the song.
You nodded and replied, your eyes bouncing from Cherie to Dean, “You get to touch us, we don’t touch you. Stay in our seats. If we aren’t sure if we can, ask first.”
Cherie twirled and stopped to smile down at you. “I bet you were top of your class, hun.”
Your cheeks heated up at the flirting. This woman was obviously younger than you by at least a decade and was calling you hun. Dean’s jaw clenched at your reaction.
“So, what brings the two of you to Vegas?” Cherie turned around, giving you a full face of her curvy hips and tiny waist. The white pants almost glowed in the light and you could hear the slight squeak of material. Her moves were smooth, fluid, second nature.
Dean was getting a full face of the cleavage peeking out of her shirt as she bent down to give him a nice view. “Romantic getaway for my girl, here.” His eyes drifted over to you, past Cherie’s elbow, with a smirk.
Oh, this is how we’re playing it now, you thought. You had to admit the idea of you being his girl was absolute heaven.
“Aw, how sweet. How long you two been together?” She rose up, her hands gripping the back of her neck, elbows jutting out like wings. She twirled to look at you. She backed into Dean’s lap and began to circle and skirt her ass along his thighs. Cherie blocked his beautiful face with pink flannel. The only Dean reaction visible were his fingers latching onto the armrests like a vice.
You stifled a giggle. “Five years.” You threw out the first number you could think of.
“A lot of man to be working with for five years.” She smiled.
You couldn’t argue with that.
“Alright if I put my hands on him, darlin’?”
You heard Dean moan. How could you deny him? And, how fun that she was asking you for permission and not bothering with his approval. “Of course.” You swallowed at the intimate turn things were taking.
She lifted up, turned again. Her hands landed on Dean’s knees. “Let’s let your pretty lady see how much you’re enjoying this.” She cooed and spun him in the - surprise - rotating chair. You got an eyeful at this angle of that chiseled face and the wide eyes from his own surprise at the movement. He glanced over at you, turning serious in a second. It was like someone had turned the temperature on to sauna level in the room. 
Cherie’s actions focused Dean’s attention back to her. Her fingers and long nails drifted and scraped along the surface of his hands, forearms, biceps. Her palms came to rest on his shoulders. She climbed on top with grace, wedging her knees into the cushion by his hips, clamping his bowlegs shut with the force of her muscular calves. Her heels poked out from the chair like weapons. That ass settled on his knees. Her cleavage inched closer to his face as he settled and reclined into the headrest. 
“How does he feel?” You realized you had asked the question out loud.
Dean turned to you, languid and lush, blissed out and smiling in a lustful stupor.
“Warm. Strong. All sorts of good.” She smiled at you. “Lucky lady.”
If only, you thought.
Dean licked his lips at you, delved his gaze into Cherie’s cleavage, then met the dancer’s stare. “If you think I feel good, you should give my girl a test drive.” He unclenched his grip on the armrest for a few seconds, maybe trying to get some circulation back in his fingers. “In fact, I’d love it if you’d tell me how good my baby feels.”
Holy shit. Your panties dampened at his confession.
Cherie grinned. “Well, that’s up to your baby. Woman always gets the final say.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Dean chuckled. “I’ve gotta run everything by her, or else I’d get spanked. Can I tell you a secret, Cherie?” Dean husked out the question. Cherie nodded in interest, grinding on him now. Dean cocked a brow at the action. “Sometimes I get in trouble on purpose, just so she can spank me.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at that; the thrill and imagery of Dean naked, leaned over your lap with a bright red ass after some serious punishment from your hand.
“Sounds like you’re a handful.” Cherie snuggled down deeper, and dry humped him. “Feel like a nice handful, too.” She was humming along to the country tune. Just another day at the office for Cherie.
It felt all sorts of wrong and right at the same time, watching this lap dance. This teasing, edging. Who the hell has the House Edge in this scenario?
Dean’s hands clenched tighter around the velvet. “Don’t wanna come in my pants, Sweet Cherie. Isn’t that one of the rules?” He panted.
She laughed. “Oh, I’d break a couple for you two.” She slowed the torture and peeled off him with a groan that almost matched Dean’s. “We going for that test drive, baby?” Her hungry eyes scanned your seated frame.
“Um…” You began. Dean’s breathing regulated and he circled the seat back to face you. He grinned at you, peeking over the curve of Cherie’s hips, ready for the show.
“It’s okay. Anyplace you don’t want me touching, just streetlight. Only if you want to indulge your man.” She raised a brow. “But you might like it, too.”
“Oh, God, I hope so.” Dean mumbled.
Cherie did the same with your chair as she had with Dean’s. You tilted, looking at yourself beyond Dean in the mirror. How very deer in the headlights you appeared. Cherie was a veritable tigress, running the entire show.
She leaned down, inches from your face. Her fingers wiggled and she cupped your jaw. “I won’t bite.” Her sweet breath laced with peppermint washed over you. “So warm. Don’t be nervous.” Her soft voice lulled you into a safe space. “Your big strong man over there wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Would you, Cowboy?”
“Absolutely, fucking not.” Dean’s voice shot straight to your core again. You caught him licking his lips. He nodded, entranced at the vision of Cherie guiding her hand down the slope of your neck, then cupping the curve of one breast. Your breath hitched as she squeezed and her long nails dipped into the cleavage. “How’s she feel?” Another lick.
“Hm, so soft.” An eyebrow arched when she skirted over your covered nipple. “And excited. Still green, sweetie?” You nodded. Cherie tipped off the cowboy hat, sliding it over the crown of your head.
Dean rumbled out a low moan. You thought you heard him curse under his breath and whisper something close to “Ride ‘em, cowgirl.”
The arousal created by this beautiful woman was dizzying and the heat from Dean’s stare was making it hard to breathe. Sweat broke out on your forehead. Your stomach churned. “Oh.” Something else was threatening to escape as a sour bile hit the base of your throat. “Oh, no.” You mumbled. “Red, red. I need to get to a bathroom.”
Cherie hopped off and grabbed you by the wrist. “Jimmy! Need a trash can, stat.”
Dean jumped up from his seat. You spotted alarm on his face and got a quick glimpse of a decent bulge in his jeans before you groaned again at the somersaults your insides were doing. A hand clamped over your mouth as you forced down the gag and swallowed. It wasn’t going to be long before the entire floor would be covered with a Vegas buffet.
The saving grace that was Jimmy parted the curtains and slid a small desk trash can over in your general direction. Dean fell to his knees and held it in front of you. Cherie tossed off the cowboy hat you were wearing and held your hair back.
A deep inhale of the artificial lemon smell covering the trash can liner was what finally had you retching.
*
You emerged from the women’s bathroom fifteen minutes later after the whole fiasco had commenced. Cherie had been nice enough to bring you a disposable toothbrush and some toothpaste from backstage. You’d cleaned yourself up as best you could. But you were exhausted, humiliated, and planned to call yourself a cab. You were certain Dean had called it a night, leaving your sorry ass to figure things out.
How surprised, then, your face must have looked to see him leaning against the wall, Cherie’s cowboy hat twirling in his hands. He was back in his flannel and jacket, staring out onto the stage. The hint of movement by your slow trudges catching his attention, he turned and gave you a soft smile. “Hey there. How’re you doing?”
You shrugged. “I’m so sorry.” Your scratchy voice skipped over the apology.
He walked over to you. “I pushed my luck… and yours… a bit too far. I’m sorry.” He grinned and placed the hat on your head. “Cherie said you could have it. A parting gift for the both of us.”
A smile broke out on your face.
“You look really cute, Cowgirl.”
“You stayed?” You questioned.
Dean’s face contorted in confusion. “Not like I was going to just skip out on you over some upchuck. Trust me, beautiful, I’ve seen way worse.” He flicked the hat so it rose up an inch higher on your head. “So, calling us a cab or walking you back to your hotel so you can sleep this off? You are going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning.”
You tummy seesawed at the thought of a lot of walking right then. “Cab.”
He nodded and headed for the exit. “Let’s go flag one down.”
“But…”
Dean stopped, wavering in his stride and waited.
“I don’t want to say goodnight yet.”
He smiled, then sighed. “Well, I got a text about an hour ago that little brother is going off on a granola munching hike in the desert by himself.” He scratched the back of his head. “So, if you want to hang out in my seedy motel room for a couple hours, it’s free.”
You grinned, queasy but happy.
*
He’d found a country station on the motel’s radio alarm clock when you’d arrived earlier and forced you to down a bottle of water and pop a couple aspirin. The both of you were now on your third round of War. The conversation had gotten deeper as the battle continued. But there were still the light, fun and flirty moments that made spending this time with him feel even more special. 
You sat cross legged on the blanket Dean had pulled out of his duffel to spare your ass from sitting on the dingy motel room carpet. He sat across from you, back against the foot of his bed, leaning an elbow on one propped up knee, the other leg splayed out on the blanket. You didn’t think his bowlegs could manage a cross legged position and grinned to yourself at the thought.
It was 2:00 am. He showed no signs of fading, but you were struggling. Dean kept glancing at his phone but never faltered to toss down his cards in time with yours.
“Hopefully he’s okay.” You offered. The tinge of pain crept in. You knew you had to say goodbye and call it a night. It was obvious he was worried. His brother had not returned his texts and was still roaming around, somewhere. “I should go. It’s getting really late and you look ready to form a search party.” You tossed your hand of playing cards onto the blanket and attempted a slow rise to your feet. You placed a hand on the cowboy hat to keep it from falling off your head. At least, for now, your stomach had settled. The pounding in your head had lessened.
“I’m surprised your gal pals haven’t been ringing you non-stop.” Dean’s head tilted up and stared.
“I’m the last thing they’re thinking of tonight.” You hadn’t given them much thought either since the first time you’d looked at Dean hours ago. God, it felt like a lifetime ago at this point.
 “You should stay a little longer and at least see who wins. We’re all tied up.”
“We’ll just have to call it a draw.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He hopped up much quicker than you.
“Where’d I put my bag?” Your eyes found it on the little table by the kitchenette as soon as you’d asked the question. You hobbled over, letting the blood flow into your legs proper again.
As you rummaged through the contents, you heard the volume of the radio go up.
You turned and saw Dean sitting on the edge of the bed, tapping his thighs.
You giggled. “You like this song?”
“Ah, it’s pop-country. But ladies like it, right?”
You shrugged and dropped into the chair beside the table. “Where I’m from, ladies get weak in the knees for Luke.”
Dean grinned that grin you’d seen countless times that night and wished you could see for every night after. He stood up and swaggered over with purpose, in only that black t-shirt, jeans and sock clad feet. He mouthed the words to the song on his approach. Your eyes were locked on those luscious lips and how well he knew the lyrics.
Gonna stomp my boots in the Georgia mud ***
Gonna watch you make me fall in love
Dean pulled the hat off your head and slid it in the perfect sweet spot on his head. The slight tilt was sexy as hell.
Shake it for the birds, shake it for the bees
Shake it for the catfish swimmin' down deep in the creek
For the crickets and the critters and the squirrels
Shake it to the moon, shake it for me girl
Aw, country girl, shake it for me
He teased and smiled, sticking his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and swirling his hips. You giggled at his awkward and heartfelt attempt at this show and the blush creeping over the apples of his cheeks.
You rose up and joined him, wanting to relieve him from the embarrassment. And, hell, you finally wanted to dance with him. You sidled up into his space, slotted one leg between his bow legs and circled your hips in time to his. That rhythm being something he easily adjusted to and was happy to continue. You looked up into those green eyes, wrapped your hands around his neck and felt his warm, safe hands glide up and down your back. The lyrics came to you easily and you lip synced along with him. It was corny, cheesy, unexpected, and sexy as hell. 
Pony-tail and a pretty smile
Rope me in from a country mile
So come on over here and get in my arms
Spin me around this big ole barn
Tangle me up like grandma's yarn
Yeah, yeah, yeah
The brim of his cowboy hat bopped your nose during a particularly forceful pretend belting of words by Dean. “Sorry.” He spoke aloud and chuckled.
“It’s okay.” You whispered, out of breath from everything he was doing to you. “I’m so glad I took a chance on you, Dean.” 
That one statement pulled you both out of the playful and flirty exploration of each other and the boundaries you’d tested. His focus on your face turned serious. And, even though the uptempo song stomped on in the background, his motions halted. His eyes drank you in, every inch of your face. His fingers danced along your jaw, curled around your neck, angling you up to him. To finally kiss you through the rest of Luke Bryan’s crooning.
Now dance, like a dandelion
In the wind on the hill underneath the pines
Yeah, move like the river flows
Feel the kick drum down deep in your toes
All I wanna do is get to holdin' you
And get to knowin' you
And get to showin' you
And get to lovin' you
'Fore the night is through
Baby, you know what to do
You’d died and gone to heaven; were positive of that fact. No man had ever had lips so soft, a mouth so determined, and knew exactly what to do with the precise amount of pressure and tongue.
As Bryan faded out, you heard the chirping of a phone. Dean broke the kiss and leaned his forehead into yours. You felt the brim of his hat on the top of your head. “Sweetheart…” The moan was a mixture of want and something else.
You sighed and knew. “Your brother.” You motioned over to the bed where his phone was. “You should go.”
He leaned down and kissed you again, placed the cowboy hat back on your head and sprinted to the phone. You did the same, found the contact of a Vegas cab company you’d put in at the start of your trip and dialed. You spoke to the weary dispatcher and repeated the name of the motel, watching Dean reply back to the text as he sat on the bed and slipped into his shoes.
“Not too far. Should only be about five minutes.” You nodded. “You can go. I’ll wait outside.”
He rubbed his thighs. “No way. You’ll wait in here with me.”
“Dean, I…”
He cut you off. “You surprised the hell out of me tonight, beautiful. You were up for everything I threw at ya.” He smiled. A genuine, heart tugging smile.
“The night could have taken a much different turn if I could have held my liquor better.”
He shrugged. “But it was still one helluva night. And, I’m glad you took the chance on me, too.” He offered his phone. “Put your number in.” You smiled and did as asked, then handed it back. He shot you a text. “There. Now, you have mine.” He pulled a business card out of his wallet. “And, here. Don’t ask questions, but if for some reason that phone stops working... call this number and say you need to get in touch with Dean Winchester.”
You read the card. “FBI Director, Mike Kayser?”
Dean raised both eyebrows.
“Okay.” You slipped the card and phone in your purse. Headlights flooded through the motel curtains. “Well, that’s my ride, I think.”
Dean stood up and opened the door, walking out into the early morning with you. The yellow cab idled in the parking lot. He waved at the driver, then turned you in his arms and stared at you hard. “You send me a text when you get into your room.”
You chuckled. “You’ll be roaming the desert like Jim Morrison by then.”
“Please.” That soft smile again.
“Okay.”
He grabbed your face with two warm palms, angled you in just the right way so he  could dip down and kiss you under your cowboy hat, soft and slow. He whispered in your ear. “I wish I could be your safe bet.”
You gave him one more peck, then walked to the cab. When you opened the back door, you turned and called out. “What would be the fun in that? Flip a coin and see where it lands every once in a while, right?”
He gave you a two finger salute and smiled that Dean Winchester grin. As the driver nodded at your destination and turned out of the lot, you watched him, standing, waiting for you to disappear from view. You held onto that grin. Closed your eyes. Committed it to memory. And hoped you’d see it again.
THE END
***Luke Bryan - Country Girl (Shake It For Me)
MASTERLIST
24 notes · View notes
steelmagnoliamusic · 4 years
Video
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24 September 2020
Unexpected Music Drop: “Skinny Skinny” by Ashton Irwin from his debut album Superbloom (out Oct. 23rd).
Yesterday, 23 September 2020, at 1:17pm, while I was working on homework, my roommate notified me that Ashton Irwin, drummer for 5 Seconds of Summer and love of my life, is releasing solo material. Because of COVID-19, the quarantine cancelled their tour, and everyone got cooped up inside, but rather than take a well deserved break, Irwin decided to keep his creative juices flowing. He worked on his own music, which talked about important issues and topics he has and continues to face. From depression to eating disorders and body dysmorphia to alcoholism and addiction, we learn a little more about Irwin and a lot more respect for him.
Now when I say he is the “love of my life,” I don’t mean he’s attractive to me (I mean he is but that’s not the point.) I mean his character and personality are unparalleled. You watch him in interviews and interacting with fans, and you can tell how proud and appreciative and genuine he is about what he does and the people who support him. He hasn’t hidden his struggles, like the ones I had mentioned, but he uses his experience to help others find hope and positivity in their lives again, myself included. You can tell how much he’s grown and how much more he wants to grow both as an artist and as a person. He is, in my opinion, one of those people who can say “I love you” and never have to doubt if he means it.
Ashton Irwin and everything he’s done means a lot to me personally. As you know, I lost my dad a little over 2 1/2 years ago. My dad was the one who built the foundation for my love of music. I remember driving with him when I’d go over to his house, and we’d listen to Kasey Kasem reruns, and he could always tell you which song was playing by which artist off which album from which year. It was impressive, and I still wish I could do that. Most of the music I listen to today I got from my dad. So when he passed, there was a bit of a void because music didn’t feel the same. It was still my go-to escape, but losing my dad also made it hard to listen to the stuff we used to. And yes, I admit I’ve had a crush on Ashton for years. I’ve always liked him, and I’ve always been able to relate to him in some way. So when my dad died, Ashton became a sort of solace for me — the one who kept me sane and kept me going and told me not to give up because if anyone could understand the emotional/mental pain I was/am in, help me to love and appreciate myself again, give me some hope and positivity when I needed, it’d be him. Ashton also, I guess, took on the mantle my dad had. I get my music tastes from him because, honestly, his voice and sound and music tastes are phenomenal. Though I’m not a “musician” myself, I learn from him, and I get my creative inspirations from him. Again, for me it’s not how he looks that attracts me to him, it’s who he is as a person and what he stands for as an artist. This is subjective, I know, but to be honest, I believe Ashton Irwin is the only good man I know. Like, I know good men who have guided me in my life, but Ashton for lack of a better term is pure and real. He is the epitome of who I think a good man is. It’s dangerous to hold someone to such a high standard without knowing them personally, but it’s what I feel. I honestly didn’t think I would ever be loved by somebody. I still don’t. I’m still convinced that no one cares about me, no one loves or wants me, no one appreciates me or respects me, that I’m not attractive enough or “normal” enough, that I’m not worth anyone’s time or attention. But when I see Ashton or I hear his voice or listen to him sing, for a moment I don’t feel those things. So far, he’s the only one who has ever made me feel otherwise. Again, I don’t know him personally, and I know the version of him in my head is not who he is in real life, but Ashton helps me get through the day. He helped me get past those terrible days when I just wanted to fade from existence. His smile makes me smile. He makes me feel better. Truth: I respect and appreciate him more than words can express. He is my hero.
So to hear about this solo venture of his (don’t worry, he’s not leaving 5SOS) is incredible. To have watched and grown with him is an honor to me. For Ashton to be so confident and comfortable enough with himself, his band, his music, us, the place he’s at, it’s amazing. I couldn’t be prouder to experience this with him.
His debut single, “Skinny Skinny” is off his debut album Superbloom, which comes out Oct. 23, and it’s fucking A. this specific song brings up the reality of eating disorders and body dysmorphia — something that he, his friends and family, and many of us have dealt with. He calls out the impossible standards we hold about the “perfect body” and the body shame we feel from that idea: “eat, but don’t get fat. Be skinny, but not too skinny, show off your assets so people don’t think you’re a slut and cover up but not too much so people don’t think you’re a prude. Fat is ugly. Why do you look like that?” and so many more things that society and we tell ourselves. It’s impossible to look like those people in magazines when even they don’t look like themselves in magazines. Everyone is different — size, shape, color, build, health, basic chemistry and biology — there is no such thing as the perfect  body except for the one you already have. (Obviously, still keep your health in mind. I don’t want any of y’all to get sick or hurt because of a health issue. I have high cholesterol and PCOS, I have to think about that stuff too. But that still doesn’t mean who you already are and what you already look like is wrong or bad in any way.) This idea of a “perfect body” is dangerous. It makes us hate ourselves and our bodies, and it causes us serious mental and physical health issues, i.e. body image issues/body dysmorphia and eating disorders. Ashton said it perfectly. We don’t “feel at home in our own bodies” when that should be the one place we can always feel at home.
Truth: I’ve only listened to this song since it released yesterday at 11pm. It’s literally on repeat now. So if “Skinny Skinny” is any indication of what we can expect from Superbloom, we are in for a Holy Spirit-inspired, God-given miracle. (Sorry to bring religion out. It’s the best analogy I could think of.) Ashton Irwin is so damn talented.his voice and range are jaw-dropping and impeccable. His music style and sound are amazing. Proud doesn’t even begin to describe how much this means to me. It’s more than pride, respect, admiration, appreciation, or even love. It’s just a part of myself that I either never knew was there or how much it affected me. I know I have depression, anxiety, ADHD, PTSD, but there’s all these other things too that play in my mind and affect how I see myself and the world. And now there’s words for it, for the thoughts and feelings.
Just amazing.
I can’t wait for his album to drop on October 23rd. There’s no doubt in my mind that it will be anything less than awe-inspiring. I’m so happy and proud of him and this “side journey” he’s on, and I’m proud and honored to be a part of it.
For the God-given love of music,
Big Shot
11 notes · View notes
jawritter · 5 years
Text
Two Out Of Three Aint Bad
Request: I know you said your request are open for Jensen and Dean, but can you write a Steve Carlson X Reader. I feel like he get overshadowed by Jensen a lot in the album and band. Can you make it were the reader falls for him, but he’s insecure, and she has to prove to him that she wants to be with him for him, and isn’t just trying to use to him get close to Jensen. Make it angsty, fluffy, and a little smutty. I understand if your not comfortable doing to. I just love the way u write!!! Thanks!!
Warnings: Smut, Language, Unproteced Sex, Drinking, language. I think that’s it.
Word Count: 3537
Pairings: Steve Carlson x Reader, Jensen Ackles x Steve Carlson, Jensen Ackles x Reader (not dirctly just mentioned), OFC Ashely x Reader, OFC Kasey x Reader
A/N: Okay guys. This was honestly one of the hardest Fic I’ve ever written, and it took me some convincing to actually do it. I do asked that you please keep all mean/hateful comments about this individual to yourself. The reason I wrote this fic was that it was requested, and honestly I saw no resaon upon talking to people not to. As always though feedback is gold! I do love hearing from you guys! Please don’t copy my stuff, this was also cross posted on wattpad. I hope you all enjoy!
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“Come on y/n! It will be fun!” Kasey begs on the other end of the phone, she’d been on you for days about getting out and having some fun for your birthday. 
Now it was said night, and you had been avoiding her call all day successfully, well, until she called from someone else’s phone, and you answered like a jackass. 
You were currently facepalming yourself. 
You didn’t even get a hello in and she was already starting on you.
“Okay seriously Kasey, who answers the phone, ‘come on y/n it wll be fun,’ and why the fuck are you calling me from Ashley’s phone! Don’t tell me you're in on this to Ash!!” you yell into the phone, hoping you were loud enough for her to hear you, or that Kasey had you on speaker phone.
“You bet your ass I’m in on this! Get yourself ready! We’re going to stereotype tonight, and you’re going to have fun damn it! It’s your birthday woman!!”
You rolled your eyes so hard that you were pretty sure you saw your brain for a moment.
“Why can’t you guys just let me stay home with a good book, and a bottle of wine tonight? It’s my birthday damn it. I want to hibernate and act anti-social.” you whine, dragging yourself off the bed, and heading towards the closet in spite of yourself. 
You knew they’d be here in probably less than an hour to drag you out of the house now that Kasey has found backup ready or not.
“Hey no one, NO ONE, is spending their birthday alone on my watch! You’re coming out tonight, you’re going to drink too much, make poor decisions, and if you’re lucky you’re gonna wake up in the arms of some stranger in the morning because YOLO damnit!” 
You pulled the phone away from your ear, gave it your best bitchface, making a mental note to slap her when you saw her tonight.
“FINE! Only because I know I’m outnumbered, and that’s the only reason I’m agreeing to this! How much time do I have before you get here?” you asked with a defeated sigh, the sound of a car horn just outside your house was your answer. 
Closing your eyes you take a deep breath, and try to calm your nerves. 
“This is going to be a good night, it’s not a mistake, you can do this,” you say to yourself before you pull your outfit out of the closet, and head towards the front door to let your friends in. 
Though the term ‘friends’ was a little generous at the moment, the more proper term would probably be kidnappers.
—————————————————————————————————————————-
An hour later you found yourself sitting in a packed out bar. None of you expected it to be this packed, but it turns out that Jensen and Jared were making an appearance tonight for karaoke night, and therefore there was a gaggle of eager fan girls standing everywhere in clusters trying to get a chance to meet the famous men. 
Having lived in Austin most of your life, and having been to the brewery servel times with Kasey, who was an avid Supernatural fan, you’d meet both men before. 
While they were both insanely attractive, they were also both married, and therefore you saw no need to spend your time and money drooling over them the way most people around them seemed to do. 
You’d gotten a picture with Jensen before at the brewery, you’d gotten an autograph from Jared once, you were satisfied with that. 
Your friends on the other hand jumped at every chance they got to get close to them. Therefore they quickly abandoned you alone at the bar with your beer to try and get a chance to see them when they walked in the bar. 
“So much for a fun night out,” you thought to yourself and snorted at the irony of the situation you found yourself in.
Out of the corner of your eye you saw a man sit down next to you. “Great another creep to tell that they need to go fuck off!! Happy birthday to me!” you think to yourself. 
It did vaguely cross your mind at that moment that you were slowly losing your shit, because talking to the voices in your head wasn’t exactly a healthy thing to do, but they were ridiculously sarcastic and sadistic, and you liked it; so you pushed that down to deal with later.  
“You don’t look like you’re having a whole lot of fun.” he said, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes at the stranger, and turned to look at him fully for the first time.
You were surprised by who you saw sitting there. 
Steve Carlson.
You knew who he was, you’d been around long enough to know about the album that Jensen along with himself had just released, and you had seen him from a distance the one time you all went to the brewery, but never up close. 
There were butterflies suddenly in your stomach, as you shifted nervously on the barstool. 
“Are you seriously nervous? He’s just another guy Y/N, pull your shit together!” 
You mentally slapped yourself in the face to pull yourself out of your shocked stare, but he was a lot more attractive in person than you would have ever expected. 
So you swallowed your smart ass comment before it even got to your lips, something about him just made you feel comfortable, like he wasn’t some jackass trying to get an easy lay, he was just… talking.
“No, I’m really not,” you said, looking back down at your beer, peeling at the label on the bottle. 
Smirking to himself he looked across the bar at where you could now see Jensen surrounded by a gaggle of girls wanting selfies. 
“Yea, I know what you mean. I wasn’t exactly in the mood to be here tonight, but Jensen begged, so here I am. Wanna be miserable together? I can buy you a drink, and we can hide over here and make fun of fangirls?” 
That last comment made you literally laugh out loud, seeing as the current “fangirl” that was almost bouncing up and down in front of Jensen, trying to desperately get his attention was Kasey.
“Okay,” you said, content that you seemed to have found someone else that was as done with the whole fangirl thing that was currently taking place in an already over packed bar 
Steve motioned toward the bartender who brought more beers, and placed them down in front of you both. 
“So, what brings you out here if you’re so miserable being here?” 
“Was forced to come against my will because it’s my ‘birthday,’ and in the immortal words of the fangirl currently jumping and down trying to get Jensen’s attention. ‘You’re going to drink too much, make poor decisions, and if you’re lucky you're going to wake up in the arms of some stranger in the morning because YOLO damnit!’
At that Steve almost fell off the stool laughing that he was sitting on. 
“Laugh all you want, but the way I see it is I’m here, might as well get drunk, and getting into the uber I’m going to half to call to get home tonight probably counts as a bad decision; so two out of three ain’t bad.” 
“Well that’s why I drove. As you see Jensen is going to be busy for the majority of the night, and the karaoke hasn’t even started yet.” Steve said, taking a big swig of his beer, moving his feet around nervously on the bar stool.
“You know, Jensen probably wouldn’t even notice I’m gone, and your friend wouldn’t notice you neither from the looks of it. There’s this little ice cream place that’s about six minutes from here, it doesn’t close until like 10, would you like to go grab some with me, then if you want I can drive you home? It kinda puts a kink in your whole bad decision part of your plan here, but at least you won’t have to wait on an uber. I promise I’m not some freak, or psycho, or something.” he said, looking down at his beer, and peeling his own label.   
You could have sworn you saw a hint of insecurity pull around the corner of his eyes when he avoided your gaze, you knew that feeling all too well, you weren’t exactly a people person either. 
“Sure, I’d like that.” you said, sliding off the bar stool, and he looked almost surprised that you agreed to go with him. 
“O…Okay..” he got up and offered you his hand a little awkwardly, which you reached out and took. 
His hands were huge compared to yours, his skin warm to the touch as he laced his fingers together with your own. It had been so long since you held hands with a guy that you couldn’t even remember the last time you had. 
You were both almost to the door, weaving your way through the people when Jensen’s deep voice cut through the crowd surprisingly close to you. 
“Steve! Where are you going man? I thought you were going to sing with me?” 
Steve stopped in his tracks, the both of you turned around slowly. He was literally grabbing distance from the door, you had almost made it out unnoticed, but almost wasn’t good enough, and Jensen had caught him.
Standing less than three feet behind Jensen was Kasey and Ashely, staring at you wide eyed like you’d lost your damn mind or something. Jensen noticed your hands linked together and smirked at his friend. 
“It’s cool though if you need to leave man, I can get Jared to sing with me, don’t worry about it. He owes me anyway.” Jensen said, backing up a few steps. Steve seemed to take a deep breath of relief.
“Yeah, I really don’t feel like the whole drinking  thing tonight.” Steve said, both men were having to yell over the music as it started up, and now Kasey and Ashely were really staring at you. 
Ashely had this huge grin on her face, but Kasey was giving you a strange look, bordering on jealousy maybe?
“Sounds good man, I’ll see you tomorrow at the brewery?” Jensen asks before giving Steve some awkward hand shake thing that guys do. 
You weren’t really paying attention, you were just ready to get out of here. People were pooling in by the minute, and it was even more crowded than it was when you got here. 
With that Steve reached for the door, and you both escaped out into the cool night air. Relief flooded you instantly, thankful to be away from the over crowded bar, and out in the open where you could breath. 
You thought you had expected, and you were almost to Steve’s car when you heard Kasey calling your name.
“Give me just a minute” you tell him and he nods at you, going to lean up against his car to wait for you at a respectable distance. 
“Y/n? What are you doing? Jensen’s in there? You don’t have to leave with Steve just to get in good with Jensen. Just tell him it’s your birthday or some shit. Why are you leaving with him when you have Jensen Fucking Ackles right there?” 
You looked at her dumbly for a moment. You couldn’t believe you she had really just said that to you, and judging by the look on Steve’s face when you glanced back over your shoulder, and the way he was kicking the gravel around with his shoes instead of looking at you, you figured that he’d heard her to.
You opened your mouth and closed it a few times before deciding that you didn’t owe such a shallow person an explanation. 
“You know what Kasey, you should go back in there with Ashely, she’s probably looking for you.” 
Turning on your heels before she could respond you walked the short distance back over to where Steve was standing. Shoving the anger boiling just below the surface down further. It wasn’t his fault fans of Jensen could be ass holes when he was on the property. Steve didn’t deserve your bad mood, just because your friend was being a bitch.
“Are you ready to go,” you asked him? He looked up at you, then back down at his feet, chewing on his lip a little before answering you.
“You don’t have to come you know, if you’d rather stay with Jensen and your friends that’s fine.” 
He seemed colder than he was only a few minutes ago inside the bar, and for a moment it confused you. 
“What do you mean? I don’t give two shits about following a married man around a crowded bar all night.” 
Steve stood up a little straighter shaking his head. 
“It’s fine, really, I’m used to it, you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.”
Looking back at the bar, then back to Steve who was avoiding looking you in the eye it hit you. 
Settling your nerves again, because a forward person isn’t normally what you are, you close the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arm around his neck, and pulling him down to you, bringing your lips to his. 
For a moment he didn’t kiss you back like he was shocked, and you were worried that this was the part where yet another guy rejected you, until you felt his arm slip slowly around your waist, pulling you closer to him, returning your kiss hesitantly before deepening it, his tongue running over your lip requesting entrance that you granted him, letting him explore your mouth. His tongue dominates yours before he finally breaks the kiss to breathe, and collect his thoughts. 
“I said I want to go with you,” you tell him again, looking deep in his hazel eyes. Your heart was beating so hard you could feel it in your ears.
He nodded after a few seconds, deciding to trust you before opening the passenger side door for you, and making his way around to the drivers side of the car.
You could tell there was a lot more to Steve than meets the eye. There were scars there that he was hiding, old wounds that had obviously gone pretty deep, and healed ugly. You understood that on a lever you didn’t even want to admit to yourself. 
The rest of the night progressed well. He took you to a little Ice Cream shop, the conversation flowed easier between the two of you easier than it had between you and anyone else in a very long time. 
You talked about the past, where he was from, and what all he had done in his career, how he ended up here in Austin. 
You talked about your dreams, your future plans, you talked about failed relationships, and things you wished you could both fix, but couldn’t. 
By the end of the night you felt closer to Steve than you had ever felt to a man. Even though he was a bit older than you, you both had some pretty similar experience that seemed to fix you together, drawing you in, in a way that you really didn’t understand and didn’t want to. 
Before long it was late, around one in the morning. You’d spent most of the night just talking, and it felt amazing. 
Now it was time to go home, and for the first time ever, you didn’t want to say goodbye to him to go and be alone again. 
Steve put the car in park outside of your house, and took a deep breath before getting out of the car and walking you to the door. 
Stopping on the steps you turned and looked up at him, his eyes seemed to fear the exit as much as you did, not wanting to let go of what you’d both unexpectedly found In each other. 
That’s when you decided you didn’t want this to end. For the first time in a long time tonight you were happy, and I’ll be damned if you were going to let this go. 
“You uh.. Wanna come in?” you asked, giving him a shy smile that he returned. 
“Yeah.. I’d like that.“ 
Closing the door behind the two of you, you locked the rest of the world away, telling yourself that you deserve this, that It felt right. 
Steve closed the distance between the two of you, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him. His lips found yours in a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue easily found yours again as he pulled you into him.
Sliding your jacket off you threw it over the chair, and he followed your lead, grabbing his hand you led him to your bedroom, and shut the door. 
You felt him come up behind you, brushing your hair away from your neck before leaving a trail of opened mouth kisses from your neck up to your jaw line, making his way up to the shell of your ear, his warm breath fanning over your quickly overheating skin. 
You turned around slowly in his arms, unbuttoning his shirt as his lips found yours again, kissing you drunk, sliding his shirt from his shoulders as he backed you towards the bed, unzipping your dress, and letting it fall to the floor. 
His eyes raked over you, meeting your gaze as he ran his fingertips over the exposed skin of your side before reaching around, and unclasping your bra, letting it fall to the floor with your dress. 
"So beautiful,” he whispers to you before his lips find yours again, brushing over yours softly before deepening the kiss, laying you down over the bed and crawling over you. 
His hands trailing over your breast, worshipping your body like no one ever had before him. Dipping his head and taking your exposed nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking lightly, making your back arch into him, a soft moan falling from your lips. 
Reaching down sliding your panties off your body, his hands trailed up your thighs and reaching your aching core, brushing over your clit in soft circles before he pressed two of his ticked fingers Into you, curling them inside of you while his thumb worked against your clit in delicious circles, your hips rolling into his touch on their own. 
Your first orgasm hit you like a title wave. Pure pleasure crashing over your body like waves crashing against sandy shores, your body shaking under him as you came down from you high. 
You don’t know when he did it, you were too lost, but you felt his thick, heavy length against your inner thigh as he positioned himself between your legs, his swollen tip nudging against your dripping center, and his clothes piled on the floor next to your own.
He brushed the hair away from your face and kissed you softly, waiting for you to come back to him. When your eyes meet his, you saw more love and admiration than you’d ever found in anyone’s eyes before. 
“You sure baby, we can stop if you don’t want to do this?”
Shaking your head before your voice would work for you, you brushed your lips against his. 
“I want you Steve.”
Kissing you deeply he sank into you slowly, stretching you as his thick throbbing cock sank into you inch by glorious inch until he was fully seated inside of you, hold himself still as he peppered all the skin he could reach with kisses until you rolled your hips against him, letting him know you were ready for him to move. 
First his rhythm started out slowly, each thrust deep, hitting you the most sensitive places inside of you before nudged against your cervical wall. 
Moans and sweet whispered affections falling from both of your lips as he pulled you both high and higher, every touch burning like under your skin. 
His pace picking up as the coil wound tight in your belly, ready to snap at any moment. 
“Steve." 
"I know baby, I’m right there with you, let go, I gotcha.”
With that the coil snapped, and the strongest orgasm you’d ever experienced hit you hard enough to knock you breathless. 
Your body jerks and twitches under him as he works you through it before his own pace starts to falter, your walls squeezing him tightly, sending him to his own release and milking him for all he could give you as he stills inside you, painting your walls with his seed. 
Finally when you both regained control over your bodies, he lifted the covers and crawled into the bed with you, wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you as close as possible to him, kissing your neck and shoulders, nuzzling into you. You fit perfectly against his warm body. 
“Well when we wake up in the morning you will hopefully still be in my arms, and I guess you’re right. Two out of three really ain’t bad.”
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