#maybe if i brought his head closer to the collarbone it will look better. but i struggle with foreshortening so theres a chance itll

[puppyeared]

axolotl

[dustofthedailylife]

How to Steal the Duke's Heart 101 (2)

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Pairing: Wriothesley x (gn!) Reader

Summary: After Wriothesley managed to get you back out of prison again you wanted to go back to living your life. However, things wouldn't go so smoothly, especially since you missed the man you had grown to love during your time in the Fortress. However, maybe fate is smiling down on you for once...

Tags: Fluff, lots of kissing, you were in prison (but innocent), swearing, french kissing (we're in France after all)

A/N: People asked for a Chapter 2 - I got an idea - here we are. Hope you enjoy and thanks for the crazy support on part 1 ;_; <3

In the following days, you stayed in the Infirmary. Your concussion and the accompanying migraine flare-ups made it hard to do anything but lie in bed with closed eyes. 

Sigewinne, who was introduced to you as the head nurse, took care of you during the time you were at the Infirmary. And she religiously made sure that you didn’t leave the bed under any circumstance. She came by twice a day with some funny-tasting shakes which, despite their flavor, worked like a charm against your headache.

Wriothesley also stopped by at least once a day, no matter how occupied he had been around the Fortress otherwise. And every time he walked through the door with confident steps, and pulled a chair by your bedside, your heart was about to burst straight out of your chest. Even more so when he leaned closer to you to press a fleeting kiss to your lips as if it was second nature now.

Both you and him often stayed up late to chat the night away and tonight was no exception to that.

You were leaning against the headboard of the bed, and he was sitting on the opposite side of the bed with his back leaned against the footrest himself. He had brought a thermos flask filled with freshly brewed tea and two cups over to the Infirmary and you were both happily sipping away on it together. A small smile was displayed on his lips as he engaged in conversations with you – just like you had always done while dining together at the Cafeteria. There was just this unspoken feeling of comfort in the room whenever you could spend time with him and you wished it would last forever.

“How are you feeling? Getting any better?” Wriothesley inquired, tapping two fingers against his temple, symbolizing the location of the pain he was speaking about.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think it’s getting better finally. Sigewinne’s shakes and potions definitely helped–”

“You can actually drink them?” He chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling upwards.

“They’re definitely not good, I won’t lie. They taste like seaweed and sand. It’s like–”

“Like you ate an entire beach and every time you close your mouth it feels like you’re grinding dirt between your teeth.” He finished the sentence for you with another low chuckle that made your heart skip a beat.

“Exactly! How do you–?”

“Well, let’s just say I’ve been on the receiving end of these shakes a couple of times myself.” He smirked, took a sip of tea from the metal cup in his hands, and sighed. “But tea is infinitely better.”

“Oh, without a shadow of a doubt. I agree.”

A comfortable silence settled between you as you each quietly sipped on your tea. You eventually find your eyes wandering across his form - his broad chest and shoulders, to the sliver of skin showing below his neck. Even though he was trying to cover it up with black belts, the deep scars that evidently littered his skin couldn’t be hidden fully. The same applied to the scar right below his enchanting eyes.

Especially the scars around his neck looked like they came from a wound that would take a miracle to heal and recover from and you couldn’t help but wonder what could’ve caused it.

It was as if your body had started moving on its own when you leaned forward, tracing the long scar below his eyes with your index finger, down to the ones down his neck, stopping just short of his collarbone. 

Despite the deep scars and slightly bumpy texture, the skin felt soft and you could feel a slight shiver run down his spine as you ran his finger over them. He observed your facial expressions closely as you did and eventually put his bigger hand above yours to stop your motion and pressed your hand against his chest with a smile. Although there was hurt lingering behind his icy blue eyes.

“How did you get these scars?” You mustered up the courage to ask, your eyebrows pulled into a frown.

“Oh, that? I battled a gigantic undersea monster when I conquered the Fortress of Meropide. Guess who emerged victorious?” He smirked.

“Wait… really?” You ushered in surprise.

“No.” He replied dryly while averting his eyes.

You retracted your hand from his chest while apologizing. You felt like you had overstepped a boundary by asking.

“It’s –” He hesitated before pointing to his neck. “This one right here is the reason I’m here.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” You reassured, not wanting to pry into his private life if he didn’t want to tell you. He took hold of your hand once more and gave it a reaffirming squeeze before sighing deeply.

“I… killed my parents. Well, adoptive parents. I’m an orphan.” Another long sigh escaped him as he averted his eyes to where your hands were intertwined. “To keep it short, they seemed like nice and law-abiding citizens at first. Like a picture-perfect family. But eventually, they treated us, me and my siblings, like trash, and sold us out one after another. I know for a fact some of my siblings did not survive because of what they did and one day… I just– snapped and ended things and set the remaining children free. They didn’t go down without a fight and that’s that. As for the others?” He brushed along his arms with the fingers of his right hand. “I’ve gotten into fistfights and the like down here a lot, nothing too special about those, really.”

He fell quiet, fiddling with your thumb, clearly nervous about how you’d possibly react to this revelation. Would you resent him? Push him away?

But you did neither of these things. You couldn’t even imagine how hard growing up must’ve been for him. And then being sent from one hell straight into another because you defended yourself and others from harm? Fontaine’s justice system was a lot – but after your case and especially after hearing his now, one thing was evident: It was everything but just.

“You’ve never been free. Not even for a single day of your life?” You questioned.

“I guess not. Although I can’t really complain. My position allows me more freedom than some people above ground have. My sentence ended a long time ago but I have no reason to go back up permanently now. Besides, I’m needed here.” He chuckled dryly before looking back up into your eyes which were now glistening with tears as you were on the verge of crying.

He took your face between his hands, wiping your eyes gently with the pad of his thumb before bringing it closer to his to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

But it wasn't long before you were interrupted by the door being flung open, swiftly followed by little tippy steps. Looking over Wriothesley's shoulder towards the doorway to the room you spotted a very displeased and borderline angry-looking Sigewinne.

"Your Grace." She almost hissed with one of her little arms stemmed on her hips and the other pointing to the wall clock that read 1 a.m. "My patient needs rest and this doesn't include staying up way past midnight and drinking caffeinated tea!"

He threw you a half-amused, half-apologetic look before sliding off the bed in one smooth motion. Spreading his arms out to both sides, he turned around with a sly smirk and looked at the head nurse.

"Ah, my apologies. It seems I must've forgotten the time again."

"Hmph… and also, while we're at it – you should rest more and drink less black tea as well." Sigewinne remarked matter-of-factly while looking at Wriothesley disapprovingly.

"I'm getting quite enough sleep, thank you very much for your concern."

"Your eyebags would beg to differ." 

"Touché."

Sigewinne crossed her arms with a triumphant smile painted on her lips as she watched Wriothesley walk out of the room with an apologetic shrug in your direction.

The head nurse promptly rushed to your bedside to fluff up your pillows and tuck you back into bed. She quickly checked if your bandages needed to be changed again before quickly wishing you goodnight, extinguishing the lights as well and closing the door behind her.

This was what a lot of evenings that week looked like. Staying up late with Wriothesley, chatting the night away, drinking tea with the occasional kiss thrown in.

As soon as the week had passed and Wriothesley had ripped your criminal record into shreds in front of your eyes you would’ve been able to return to your old life. But you still hadn't fully regained your strength yet. So upon doctor's orders, you stayed a little longer than you needed to. Not that you particularly minded - especially since you were allowed to stay in a guest room right below Wriothesley's office, which was infinitely more comfortable than the Infirmary. 

Just a couple of weeks ago you could've never imagined staying here longer than you absolutely needed to, but now you found yourself not quite wanting to leave anymore – at least you weren’t in a hurry to do so.

You spent most of your time lounging around in Wriothesley's office, scanning the bookshelves, reading some books, going through his tea collection with growing fascination, and generally just lazing the time away in his presence.

You grew incredibly closer during that week. You spent almost every free minute he had to spare together. Mostly on the sofa in his office with your head resting on his lap while he worked through some files with his feet resting on the coffee table. 

But as soon as the day came where you were officially escorted back out of the office he was nowhere to be found. You had been told to pack your things by the guards because you were about to be escorted out of the Fortress again soon. And while you prepared your things you looked for Wriothesley around the Fortress as well, since you didn’t want to leave before saying goodbye.

So, you stopped by the Infirmary, asked Sigewinne if she’d seen him already, asked several guards and Wolsey at the Cafeteria, but to no avail. It was as if the Primordial Sea itself had swallowed him.

And thus you were meeting at the pickup spot with the guards and were escorted out without seeing him again. You knew that, back then, his reassurance that you’d see him again had been a lie and the chances for that to happen were slim. Especially since he seldom ever left the Fortress. So you entered the elevator you had arrived in with a knot in your stomach that was the size of a boulder.

During the ride up you felt how the air that wafted into the elevator shaft became clearer and fresher again and you couldn’t help but wonder about your feelings that had developed for Wriothesley. Did they just emerge out of your circumstances? Was it just because he was the only one you really ever talked to down here? For the sake of your aching heart, you hoped that was the case and you’d forget this little crush once you returned to your old life again.

Surely that would be the case.

The elevator came to a halt and opened with the same mechanical hiss it did back when you arrived at the bottom of the ocean. You stepped outside, breathing in the fresh air as some droplets of rain collided with your skin.

At last. Freedom.

You didn’t even know where to go or what to do first so you simply ventured towards the City. You had exchanged the coupons you had for Mora again and buying some tea and fresh ingredients for your favorite dish sounded like a good start.

You first went back to your house, to drop off your things and change into something more presentable than your inmate clothes that smelled like oily grease. 

You took a warm shower and slipped on your favorite clothes before heading back out with a pep in your step. The bruise on your face was still slightly visible but that wouldn’t hinder you from enjoying your regained freedom. 

You happily walked into your favorite tea store that was close to your home, greeting the old lady behind the counter enthusiastically whom you always had friendly chats with before your time in prison. She briefly looked up in your direction before knitting her brows and returning to noting things down in her notebook without ushering a single word of greeting in return.

You became slightly unsettled because it seemed like the atmosphere in the room had changed when you entered. You had never seen her behave like this before, she had always been forthcoming, friendly, and extremely chatty. Nonetheless, you went up to the counter with a smile, greeting her once more.

“Hello, it’s great to see you again Madame Dubois. I came to buy a pack of my favorite tea again.” You cheered with a wide smile, feeling ecstatic about being able to do mundane things like grocery shopping again. You fondled with your wallet, taking out the Mora you owed, still remembering how much it cost – but just as you were about to put it on the counter you saw that the woman hadn’t moved an inch and was still scribbling away in her notebook.

“Hello? Madame?” You asked in confusion, trying to gain her attention.

No response.

“Madame?”

She slowly looked up at you again and was now clearly annoyed.

“Please leave my store. I don’t want to have my reputation tarnished by serving a criminal.”

You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, ringing for words of protest but your mind simply blanked because of the sheer audacity of the situation. So, instead of standing up for yourself you simply walked out without another word. 

You were innocent and always had been, so why would she treat you this unfairly? And even if you had actually committed a crime, wouldn’t you have served your sentence and redeemed yourself again now?

With a tarnished mood you continued your way down the street until you came by a clothes store you used to frequent. You began browsing the clothes rack outside to get your mind off of the unpleasant encounter and even found two pieces you wanted to try on.

Throwing them over your arm you walked inside the store and right into the direction of the changing room. But just as you were about to enter it, the store owner stopped you, taking the clothes you had picked out of your hands without a word.

“Uhm, I wanted to… try these on.” You ushered in defeat, already suspecting where the conversation would venture from here. You were beginning to sense a pattern here.

“You can’t try that on.” The vendor said with determination.

“Why?”

“Pft.” She scoffed eyeing you from top to bottom, clearly not in a hurry to give you any sort of reply. “You’re not fooling me. I know that you’re going to steal something if I let you go into the changing room.”

“Madam, I’m innocent. I was never a criminal to begin with. I was falsely accused and convicted.” You protested weakly, feeling the lump in your throat grow in size.

“Mhm, yeah sure. And I’m the Hydro Archon.” She scoffed once more and pointed you towards the exit. 

With sagged shoulders and the urge to cry you found yourself outside of the store again and we're just about done with the day at this point. You half-considered just going back home again and pretending this all was just a bad dream but that would mean you'd just give up.

Was this how all former criminals were treated in Fontaine after being released? If so, it was truly no surprise that no one actually ever returned from the Fortress of Meropide if this was how they were welcomed back. Not because the Fortress wouldn't let them leave even after serving their sentence – but because they were unable to leave. Because they were brandished and irredeemable in the eyes of society.

The voice of Wriothesley from months ago now echoed in your head: “Once you get used to the Fortress you’ll find yourself unable to want to leave.”

Back then you had no idea how true that sentence would ring eventually. Not only because you missed him dearly already but also because you knew things would never return to how they had been before you had been to prison. Nothing you could say to the people on the surface would change their perception of you, because they wouldn’t believe you.

You continued to walk down the street and eventually came by your favorite cafeteria. You had often spent time here before being unrightfully incarcerated. You remembered that you had always gotten along well with the owner of it – but you had the suspicion that that would change now as well.

Unsure whether or not you should even try your luck you eventually walked towards a table and sat down. But your suspicions would remain correct – you would be politely asked to leave from here as well by the man you once got along with quite well, too.

He can’t risk the good reputation of his business and the other customers might feel unsafe sitting next to a convict.

How were you ever supposed to return to a normal life again if everyone treated you with so much disdain?

You decided to just give up for today and plopped down on the side of the pavement, next to some small rose bushes out of sight, and started crying. You needed a valve for all the anger and frustration that had accumulated over the day, and if that was it, so be it.

You wanted nothing more than to return to your old life, or heck, even go back to the Fortress of Meropide. But neither of those were possible. Society had decided you were a sinner and the Fortress was off-limits since people without a criminal record couldn’t get back in. Only former prisoners with a record could go back and decide to stay there, normal citizens, however, were not given that opportunity.

“Is everything alright?” A high-pitched voice addressed you with concern.

You looked up and looked into the face of a purple Melusine with blue hair in the famous blue Fontainian officer uniform. Her eyes were filled with worry and she was leaning over slightly so she was on eye-level with you.

“Mhm, everything’s alright.” You sniffled, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

She didn’t look convinced and her brows furrowed even further. She looked around and hurried off before swiftly returning with a cup of tea and some pastries from the cafeteria you were unable to get even basic decency from just ten minutes ago.

With a genuine smile on her face, she handed you the items proudly.

“Here, take this. Maybe this will make your day a little better. Remember that just like after rainfall the sun will eventually shine again, there will be brighter days after crying again, too!”

Lost for words and touched by the kindness, you accepted the gift from the friendly Melusine who was already happily hopping away again. At the end of the path, she turned around once more waving and pulling the corners of her mouth up with her hands, signaling you to smile, before returning to her job.

You didn’t know whether to continue crying because you were still feeling like you were drowning at the bottom of the sea or because the only one who had shown you an ounce of humanity today had been a being who wasn’t technically human.

Just what were you supposed to do now?

A couple of weeks passed after that day and things had gone just as bad as they had on your first day. You had found a handful of shops that would still accept you as a customer, and while they weren’t your favorite of all time, they served their purpose of letting you survive.

However, you were seemingly unable to find a stable job again. Your old job no longer wanted you as an employee and all the letters of application you had sent out, had stayed unanswered. You still had enough savings to make ends meet ends for a couple more weeks but after that, you would most likely have to start selling your belongings.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough already, the realization that contrary to what you originally wanted to believe – that you’d quickly get over what you and Wriothesley had after being free again – couldn’t be further from the truth. Reintegrating into society was made impossible to you so there was also no way to distract yourself from craving to see him just one more time. Also because he would be the only one who would show you kindness, understanding and love in a time like this.

No day passed where you didn’t find yourself daydreaming about the times you had sat together and chatted the night away, how you had met up for lunch and dinner, how attractive his smile had looked, how good his aftershave had smelled – and how perfectly intoxicating his lips had felt on yours. 

Why did he not wish you goodbye when you had to leave?

And much worse was that everything reminded you of him. The coat with the red silk lining you saw while passing the clothes store. The familiar tea smell that lingered around the tea store. The whiff of perfume out of the perfumery that smelled just like him. Everything just made you miss him more and it was beginning to become excruciating. 

And on one of those days when you sat alone at home, reminiscing about your time in the Fortress of Meropide you suddenly had an idea. In your present state – without a criminal record – you were legally unable to enter the Fortress… unless-

You jumped up from your seat, your heart practically beating out of your chest over the realization that there was one way out of your predicament.

One solution.

You needed to commit a crime.

You grabbed your jacket and rushed out of your door without a moment of hesitation. You set out for the market and were practically rushing down the street now. You were dead set on your decision. The more you thought about it the more excited you got.

Once you arrived at the plaza you spotted the booth of the jeweler and headed straight in the direction of the table with big, determined steps. You already made out an expensive ruby necklace from afar that was dangling freely from the jewelry stand. That thing must be worth thirty thousand Mora minimum. Stealing that would surely land you a prison sentence for a while – and once you had that, you were free to stay in the Fortress of Meropide for as long as you wished after. You would have the necessary criminal record to make it your forever home.

Smugly smiling to yourself you arrived at the table, eyes still transfixed on the necklace that now dangled teasingly in front of your eyes. Time felt like it was moving in slow motion at this point. You purposefully reached your hand out, clutching the gem with your entire palm. The look on the face of the jeweler was changing with every millisecond that passed. His brows lifted, his eyes became wide and his mouth formed into an o-shape, ready to scream protest over the theft of one of his most precious items on display. Yet, before any of that happened – before you could yank the necklace down from the stand and make a run for it – a bigger hand enveloped your own calmly.

You could feel a chest pressed to your back and a hand on your shoulder, still expecting your plan to work. One of the guards must’ve sensed your intent and just stopped you before you could make a run for it. But the change to a calm look and the smile on the face of the jeweler told you that the situation wasn’t quite like you believed.

“This is the one you like, darling?” A deep smooth, voice inquired from behind you.

Shock shot through your system. You knew that voice like the back of your hand. You had been craving to hear it again for weeks. You had been craving for it since the day you left the prison.

What was Wriothesley doing here?

“We’ll get that one.” He declared towards the jeweler, motioning to the ruby necklace that you still clung to. He handed a small coin pouch to the man behind the booth, who was now happily smiling, weighing the Mora in his hand with a pleasant hum.

Scarred and callused fingers wrapped around your cramped fist and carefully opened your fingers, gently taking the beautiful necklace out of your grasp. 

You were still standing on the spot, unable to move as you were frozen in shock about what just happened, while the man of your dreams put the most expensive jewelry you had ever touched around your neck. Where did he even get this much money to splurge for an item like that?

No. Where did he even come from?!

“Thank you.” He nodded towards the jeweler with a handsome smile before leading you away from the booth calmly. But you could feel how tense he really was, by how hard his digits dug into your shoulder.

He dragged you into a secluded side alley behind some crates that hid you from prying eyes and promptly pushed you against the wall. An icy gaze pinned you down and the iron grip on your shoulder became impossibly tighter.

“What in God's name do you think you’re doing?” He hissed through clenched teeth.

“Nothing.” You feigned innocence. But your voice was barely even above a whisper and you found yourself unable to look him in the eyes.

“Nothing?” He gasped in disbelief. “You were about to steal that necklace just now.”

And to undermine his point he pressed the gem into your skin, which now sat between your collarbones.

“Are you insane?! You only just gained your freedom back!”

“Freedom?!” You bit back exasperated with tears welling up in your eyes out of anger and frustration over the downward spiral your life had been in for so long now. “This ain’t freedom. This is hell. I can’t do this anymore.”

“That’s not a reason to want to go back to prison!” He hissed, pushing your shoulder against the wall even harder.

“Don’t you dare lecture me about anything?! You didn’t even have the courtesy to say goodbye to me when I left.” You hissed.

“I didn’t want to make it harder for you. It was for the best.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You swore fiercely. “You don’t know anything. You don’t know what’s best for me because fuck, this isn’t it. Everyone shuns me, I can’t find a job, I can’t even buy groceries. I don’t have any–”

Before you were able to finish your tirade you were abruptly interrupted by his lips hungrily crashing into yours. 

Immediately the million questions you wanted to ask him and the shock about the situation were forgotten.

You inhaled sharply and shut your eyes and your hands immediately reached up to grab a fistful of his hair, lightly tugging on it while deepening the kiss. A low satisfied grunt vibrated through his chest as you did, sending a shiver down your spine in return. 

He pressed himself up against you, trapping you between himself and the wall. One of his hands found his way around your waist, greedily squeezing at your flesh below his palms. Further pulling you into him as he held you impossibly closer than you already were while devouring you like he was a man starved for air and you were his oxygen. 

His other hand found comfort at the back of your head, preventing it from crashing into the brick wall he pressed you against.

Slightly parted lips danced across your lips down your jaw to your collarbones. Only interrupted by his heavy pants and roaming hands that didn’t seem to know where to touch first.

“Fuck,” he muttered breathlessly with half-lidded eyes, “You drive me insane.” 

For someone who had been blessed with a Cryo vision, you were surprised at how his touch could set you ablaze so easily. Pure flames licked at your skin where he touched you. Hot open-mouthed kisses were placed wherever he could reach. Silken lips entangled with yours as you dangled on the edge of consciousness from being overwhelmed with raw emotion.

It was as if time had stopped for both of you. Lost in the intimate moment of your shared passion, somewhere in a back alley of Fontaine.

He was so close yet you wanted him to be closer. You wanted to hold him and never let him go. You wanted him to kiss you until your lips were sore and you no longer had any air to breathe.

If the kisses you had shared in the Fortress of Meropide had been addicting already then this right now was the most dangerous drug in existence. You were intoxicated by the taste and feel of his lips for no one had ever kissed you like this before. Nor did you want anyone but him ever kissing you in the same way. 

At this point he wasn't a want, he was a need. You needed him like you needed air to breathe and water to drink. And he felt the same about you. 

He carefully parted his lips, prodding the tip of his tongue against your bottom lip, practically begging for entry. And you allowed it as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

The butterflies in your stomach did somersaults and were about to burst out of your chest when he slung both of his strong arms around your midriff to pull you even closer once again.

A string of saliva connected your lips when he separated from you to catch some air. His eyes were still clouded with emotion as they still hungrily looked at you. His face was still so dangerously close you could feel the tingling sensation of his breath on your lips. 

His arms maintained their position around your waist and he pressed his face into the crook of your neck with a deep inhale. 

“I missed you so much.” He muttered into your shoulder with a meek tone.

You felt like all the weight of the past weeks was lifted off your shoulders at once and you were finally able to breathe again – all despite being buried between the wall and a 6’3” man who was hugging the dear life out of you right now.

“So did I.” You sniffled, only now realizing you had begun to cry because you were so overwhelmed with joy.

“Please, take me with you. Don’t leave me again.” You pleaded, desperately clasping a fist into the fur of his coat. “I don’t want to stay here anymore. Not like this. Not without you.”

He sighed deeply, moving his palms to your shoulders, gently squeezing them. He looked at the floor pondering before directing his gaze back at you again.

“Are you truly sure about that?” He inquired seriously to which you just replied with a determined nod. 

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” You answered and placed a quick peck on his lips once more. “I’d have committed a crime only so that I could be with you again.”

A low chuckle echoed through his chest and he placed a kiss at the crown of your head.

“Please don’t do that.”

You looked at him with a pout because how were you supposed to come with him when you weren’t allowed at the Fortress?

“I might have a different idea.” He announced smugly.

“And that is?”

“Work at the Fortress.”

“But… I don’t have the required qualifications for the job. I would never get accepted, let alone be even invited for an interview.” You complained, furrowing your brows.

“Well. Are you willing to learn?”

“I-I guess?” You hesitantly answer, looking up at him in confusion. “I’m not sure I follow.”

He took a step back, directed his gaze to the ground, and put his index finger to his chin, acting deep in thought.

“Well, then you’re hired.” He suddenly declared with a smug grin painted on his lips.

“What?” You huffed perplexed, causing him to snort out a laugh.

“My love,” He took your hands into his, lifting them to his lips to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Have you already forgotten who I am? I am the one who makes the rules down there.”

After you promptly agreed to his impromptu interview and hiring process, Wriothesley accompanied you back to your house to pack your things. He was barely able to stop himself from smiling from ear to ear. And you reciprocated that feeling. You would be getting a separate room in the Fortress that you could customize to your wishes. And the best part about it was that you technically could always return to the surface still – because, you weren’t imprisoned. You were about to start a new chapter of your life and you couldn’t be more excited.

Sure – things didn’t go like you had expected them to, but all’s well that ends well. Maybe you should stop by your old friend's house sometime to thank her for framing you for the crime you were falsely convicted of back then. After all, it netted you the Warden of the Fortress of Meropide at the end of the day.

As soon as you stood back between the high iron-clad walls that smelled like machine grease and oil you felt right at home. It was as if you had never left. But unlike the first time you arrived here, you were happy. 

You were free, you weren’t a criminal, no one would judge you here and you would be able to spend time with the man you loved. In fact, you’d even say you were happier than you probably had ever been.

Wriothesley led you to your new room, which happened to be below his office, and told you to make yourself right at home. He sat down on your bed and stayed around for a while to chat with you while you unpacked and decorated the space to your liking. Ultimately he had to excuse himself because he was called by a guard for some official business. And with a quick kiss that both of you smiled into, he was off.

You continued unpacking for only gods knew how long until your eyes eventually began to fall close on their own. When you checked the clock on the wall again you saw that it was nearly 11 p.m. already and you decided it was probably time to head to bed. 

You headed to the bathroom that was next to your room and got ready for the night, brushed your teeth, and washed your face before slipping into your favorite pajamas and settling down on your bed.

But as soon as you turned the lights off and lay down on your pillow, something hard was poking your temple. You reached below the pillow and touched something hard and round that felt incredibly cold to the touch.

What the heck?

You grabbed it and quickly pulled it out from below the pillow. The dimly lit room was immediately enveloped in a light blue light. But whatever it was that you had expected it to be it wasn’t this. The light of the orb in your hands was pulsating steadily like a heartbeat and you were quick to discern what that foreign item in your hand was. A cryo vision.

You furrowed your brows and concluded that it must be Wriothesley’s. He did sit on your bed earlier. Maybe it fell off his coat.

You shuffled out of the bed and headed back upstairs, hoping to find him in his office. 

While climbing up the stairs you could quickly make out the smell of fresh tea as well as the quiet notes of a gramophone playing classical music.

As soon as you got a view of the room you found Wriothesley sitting on his desk with closed eyes, a cup of tea held to his lips. Seeing him just enjoying himself made a smile creep up on your face as you approached him.

“Hi.” You whispered as you walked towards him on tippy-toes.

“Hi.” He set down his cup. “Did the music wake you up? I figured you must already be sleeping.”

“No, nothing like that.” You shook your head, taking the hand holding the vision out from behind your back to show it to him. “I found this under my pillow, I think you must’ve lost it earlier.” You discerned, looking at the glowing vision in your hand.

Wriothesley eyed you and then the vision curiously as he jumped up from his desk and walked up to you. 

He gently put his palm around your hand that was holding the vision, closing your fingers back around it again with a soft smile.

He lifted your chin so you looked him in the eyes before speaking again.

“It’s yours.” He declared.

“What? Stupid! I can’t keep your vision! You need it!” You began protesting but were quickly shut up when Wriothesley slipped the coat off his shoulder, revealing the blue orb that was still danging down from one shoulder.

“It’s not mine.”

Your mouth fell open and a thousand thoughts started racing in your mind. How could this be? You? A vision bearer? But you didn’t even feel anything. Wouldn’t receiving a vision be more flashy than simply finding it below your pillow?

“It seems like even the gods think you’ve finally found your place in the world.” He ushered proudly, slinging his arms around your shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head with a gentle smile.

“I don’t even know how to use it.” You muttered with uncertainty.

“I’ll show you.”

If the gods think you’ve managed to find your place then you’d simply have to trust their judgement. And if you honestly listened to your heart you would probably agree with them.

Whenever you looked at Wriothesley, you felt like you had finally found the place where you belonged. 

You were home.

Because home is where he is.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[lwwife]

Leah and r starts going out, after meetings maybe in a bar or something where r work, and eventually dating. They try to keep it a secret but the news goes out and most people are against it and start insulting ecc e, and she start the question everything cause she thinks that Leah deserves better than her, someone how famous and talented LIKE her, but Leah will not hear any of the it cause she loves her. A little bit of angst but HAPPY ENDING

Because I love YOU

“From the moment I saw you”

Fluff, angst, suggestive, tw: themes of bullying

Word count: 2,167

——————————————————————————

Leah’s pov:

“Hi there”, I bring my head up from where it hung low watching my hand swirl the straw around my vodka coke. As my neck lifts, I’m brought to face one of the most beautiful girls I have ever laid eyes on, stood behind the bar, dressed in a black tank top, paired with black jeans and a belt. Wow. I feel my mouth slightly open, I quickly lick my lips and shut it.

“Can I get you anything else? You don’t seem to be enjoying that one.” She says gesturing to the drink stood in front of me. I look down at my full tall glass and sigh. After what I now realise is around 30 seconds a hand cups my chin, and my head is once again raised. I lock eyes with her again, all my worries of the night seem to fade, she smiles genuinely,

“I’m y/n.”

“I- um- hi- uhhh-“ I stutter trying to find the words to return whilst she stares through me.

“Y/n” she cocks her head to the right and smiles.

“Yeah right, y/n. Hi, I’m Leah” I finally find the courage to say, and I return her smile.

“Well” she pauses, then gestures to me “Leah”, she laughs, “why don’t I take this”, she reaches for my drink, holding onto it as if asking for permission, “and make you one of my specials?” She grins, and leans forward. Wow. Her cleavage shows from the top of her tank top and my mouth once again is agape. I swallow.

“I um-“ she raises an eyebrow and instantly persuades me. “Yes. Yes why not, thank you”

She leans back, and smiles brightly, “alright then, coming right up.” She winks and walks away with my drink.

——————————————————————————

Y/n’s pov: (6 months later)

My mind switches on and my eyes flutter open. My senses intake the arms wrapped around me, the smell of vanilla surrounding me and finally the sight of my beautiful blonde girl laid in front of me, hair messy and sprawled across the pillow, laid naked, sheets covering her from the chest down. I smile softly at the light snores coming from her, I lean forward and kiss her forehead softly, and run my hands up and down her back. After a few seconds Leah begins to stir awake.

“Mhhhm” she grumbles. Leah opens her eyes, looks straight at me, smiling brighter than anyone should in the morning, and shuts her blue eyes again snuggling in closer to me, head tucked in the crook of my neck, and arms wrapping around me much tighter than I expect from her sleepy body.

“Happy anniversary baby girl” I whisper, as I run my hands through her freshly washed hair.

I feel her smile against my skin, then soft kisses began to be laid on my neck, moving up as the grip around me loosens. Eventually after quickly kissing every inch of skin from my collarbone to jaw, Leah hovers above me, kisses both cheeks, my forehead, nose, chin, and finally a long peck on my lips. As she pulls back she releases that beautiful warm smile.

“Happy anniversary my love” she whispers, still grinning lighter than the sun.

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and she collapses on top of me again.

“UGH Le, Jesus” I scowl from the hard hit of her body.

She simply giggles and gets up, off the bed.

“Up you get sloth, I have a lot planned for our special day” she winks and runs off to the bathroom, chuckling to herself.

I roll my eyes and giggle at her sarcastic hypocrisy and tumble out of bed.

——————————————————————————

Leah certainly did live up to her promise of plans for today. Maybe a little too much. She first drove you both to go carting, where she became EXTREMELY competitive, but once you let her win, getting tired of her grumpy losing attitude she switched to her regular romantic self.

“Don’t worry baby, maybe you’ll get it next time” she gloats, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, and kissing my head.

“Yeah yeah” you roll your eyes.

By the end of the day you were exhausted, Leah tiring you with multiple activities, and some anniversary sex in locations which cannot be disclosed for possible legal reasons.

However, as fatigued as you were, your energy heightened when Leah revealed to you she’d made a booking at the restaurant that you two had been dying to go to.

“A 6 week waiting list” Leah huffed at you, “you’re high maintenance missy” she clicks her head at you.

——————————————————————————

After the most beautiful night full of laughs, wine, and love, you awoke the next morning feeling fulfilled. Leah was dead asleep next to you, so you decided to scroll on your phone for a bit. As you tapped the screen you were overwhelmed with hundreds of notifications. You rubbed your eyes shocked. When you unlocked your phone, you found news alerts, tagged posts, comments and more.

Your relationship had been exposed. Leah and you had been together for 6 months as of yesterday. Coming off the back of the euros win and Leah’s newfound fame, you both decided to keep yourselves private for a little while longer. However, that agreement was suddenly broken as you stumble across pictures of Leah and you, eating dinner together, holding hands, and finally kissing on the street. Your jaw dropped. “Shit” you whisper shouted.

“What? What’s wrong babe?” You turn around to find Leah slumped up, rubbing her eyes, looking at you questioningly. You go to answer her when your phone starts to ping again. You turn your attention back to your phone to find comment notifications on an ENews! Post

BREAKING: Leah Williamson spotted with girl.

Leah Williamson was spotted last night with a girl who after further research we’ve found to be bartender y/n y/ln. Apparently the pair were spotted holding hands at DeNiro’s Italian restaurant last night, supposedly on a date, they were later spotted kissing in the street, sources have provided the following photos:

(Pretended these pics apply properly 😭)

What do you all think of it girl Leah Williamson’s new fling?

User563869: AWFUL, god Leah can do much better than that

RyanTorn7638: A bartender??! Pass her over, Leah can do so much better wtf.

Grace.walker_: LEAH NO GET BACK WITH JORDAN

JJ12: Oof, y/n is PUNCHING

fran_lawson10: DUMP THAT BITCH DAMN

You feel water run down your cheek, you quickly wipe away the stream and get up out of bed.

“Baby! Where are you going?” Leah calls after you from bed

“Out.” You mumble back

——————————————————————————

Leah’s pov:

Y/n stormed out almost four hours ago, I’ve been worrying and pacing around the house for hours, calling and texting her, after my threat to call the police she finally texted back “I’m fine, I’ll be back later”, I was infuriated but I decided as long as she’s safe it’s okay, something is obviously wrong but I don’t want to push her. So I sat for three more hours, waiting in silence on the couch until finally I hear the keys turn and the front door open. I ran to her, instantly embracing her in my arms.

“Oh my god baby are you okay where were you?!” I spoke into her hair.

To my surprise she roughly pushed me off her, “I went for a drive” she spoke and walked past me. I stood dumbfounded, I don’t understand what I did.

“Hey!” I shouted.

She ignored me and continued to walk up the stairs.

“Baby! Hey! Y/n!” I heard a door slam shut. Something fuelled inside me, a fire rose and I stormed upstairs. As I reached the closed door I took a deep breath. This isn’t the way to deal with it. I slowly walked into the room, y/n laid on the bed, phone in hand. I walked towards her and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Darling” I grabbed her hand. She snatched it away from me, I looked at her, eyebrows furrowed. “What’s going on?” I whispered.

“Nothings going on Leah!” She never calls me Leah. My face falls instantly. She notices and quickly speaks, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have spoken like that, I’m just tired, I need a shower.”

“Okay” I smiled softly.

She walked into the bathroom and shut the door. After I couple of seconds I went after her. I walked into the bathroom and wrapped my arms around her waist, “let me join you” I whispered into her ear, she shoved me off her.

“No Leah, I’m tired just leave me alone, please.” I wrapped my arms around myself instantly feeling insecure and walked out, shutting the door behind me.

I sat on the bed contemplating what the fuck has happened. Horrible thoughts ran through my head. Especially once I saw y/n’s phone sat on the bedside table. “No Leah stop it” “she wouldn’t do that” “don’t do it”, but she was gone for hours, she won’t let me touch her, I mean what am I supposed to think, maybe I’m no longer good enough for her. I know I’ve been tough through my injury and I haven’t been able to provide as much intimacy as usual, maybe she needed to look elsewhere for it. I regretfully reached for her phone, “fuck what am I doing”, I slowly typed the password and unlocked it, I began to scroll through iMessage, when I didn’t find anything I decided to go to Instagram. The feed and notifications were flooded. I squinted confused. I tapped on the heart in the top right corner to look at notifications, “oh y/n”…

————————————————————————

Y/n’s pov:

I sat on the shower floor, unable to tell what was tears and what was water, I quietly sobbed, “fuck”, after reading almost every comment and message I felt like the most worthless person to ever live. I began to question every moment of Leah and I’s relationship, did she feel forced when I came onto her that night at the bar? Does she want any of this? I mean I’m just me, y/n, she could have anyone she ever wanted, she’s the most beautiful, extraordinary, person to ever walk the earth, why the fuck is she with me? She’s wasting her time by being with me, she deserves better than what I could ever give her, I need to en- “darling open the door”. My rambling thoughts are stopped by Leah knocking on the door, as soon as I hear her voice my heart stops. “Baby I saw everything, please, I want to talk about this, y/n please just open the door.”

I begin to sob again, all I do is cause problems, she doesn’t deserve any of this. “I’ll meet you downstairs let me get dry and dressed” I say through the door.

“Alright. And y/n?”

“Yeah” I call back

“I love you, okay?”

I sniffle, “I’ll see you in a sec”

——————————————————————————

As I walk downstairs my hands begin to shake. I lock eyes with Leah, she sits on the couch, and smiles at me, she pats the spot next to her. I slowly walk towards her and sit on the opposite side of the couch. She frowns at me and slides closer.

“Darling” Leah grabs my hand softly and rubs her thumb along the back of my hand.

I look down and tears begin to well in my eyes.

“Hey hey” she cups my cheeks and wipes away the tears that began to fall.

“I’m sorry” I whisper

“Baby girl, listen to me” she forced my eyes to lock with hers “don’t you dare apologise, none of this is your fault. You need to know how much I fucking love you okay. From the moment I saw you, the moment you looked at me with that cheeky smile and beautiful eyes, my heart was yours, I don’t give a shit what you do for a living, I don’t give a shit what user1234 fucking 5 has to say about us. What I care about is you darling. I care about your happiness. I care about how your day goes. I care about every little thing you ramble about, your favourite chocolate, how to make you feel good, your little comments and opinions on tv shows we watch. I care about everything you say and do, and I need you to understand that I’m telling you the truth here. I love you, every little bit of you and I want everyone to know that. Okay? I’m yours, my heart is forever yours.”

My face turns into her palm and I sob, she quickly wraps her arms around me as I cry and cry and cry.

“I love you” I sniffle into her shoulder.

“Hmmm what was that?” Leah cockily asks

I turn my face to be front on with her, I Leah in to kiss her “I” *kiss* “love” *kiss* “you” *kiss* “so” *kiss* “fucking” *kiss* “much” *kiss*

She giggles hugs me tightly.

“I love you more my girl” she whispers

——————————————————————————

@leahwilliamsonn/@y/n.y/ln

My girl makes the best drinks😽

——————————————————————————

A/n: WOW OKAY. First story ever written, I hope I did okay, please be nice, I would love for any feedback or more requests, feel free to message me, comment or put in my asks, hopefully this was okay! Thank you for requesting🫶🫶🫶

[milksuu]

…the poly sett/reader/aphelios… ur insane for that one… i need a follow up🤭

-🎧

❥ prompt: Sharing is caring. And so is getting along. When it comes to you, Sett and Aphelios are working on it. ❥ content/warnings: mild suggestive themes, fluff, teasing, cuddling, possessive boyfriend behavior ❥ characters/pairings: poly!heartsteel!settphel x f!reader

"This one is so cute, Sett. Your mama really knows which ones to get you," you smiled, rubbing your face against a PoroKing plushie.

"Oh, yeah. When it comes to Ma', I got lucky and ended up with the best," Sett said with a grin, "but, let's be honest here. You're the cutest thing on my bed right now."

Aphelios narrowed his eyes against his computer screen. Clicking and typing away. He was working on a sample Yone had sent him to dabble with for their next song. He would need to ensemble some lyrics to go along with it at some point. Except...he slapped his hands against his desk, turning a sharp chin towards you and Sett.

"Uh-oh," you said, wrapping your arms around Sett's neck. "I don't think Phelly likes us being all lovey-dovey without him."

"Looks like it," Sett agreed with a snaggle tooth smile. "I mean, he's free to come on over when he's done being glued to his computer. He's been ignoring us for hours. What did he expect?"

Aphelios popped the cap off a marker, took up his notepad, and scribbled:

I'm actually working. Unlike someone I know. I wOndEr wHo?

You gasped, covering your mouth. "Phelly's extra sassy today."

"Extra? Nah, he can be worse than this. Believe it or not, he's in one of his better moods today." Sett chuckled, lowering his head and planting a kiss to your collarbone. "Probably because you're here. But it's got me thinkin'. Wonder how his mood will change when I take you all for myself. Right in front of him."

You shuddered at the tingling feeling. "Don't you think you're being a little mean?"

"The boss can't be nice all the time. Sometimes, he's gotta play the big bad wolf," he grumbled a purr, carefully nipping at your chest with his canines. You couldn't help the fluttering of your eyelids and hitched moans.

Aphelios almost snapped the marker in half. He jumped out of his desk chair. And launched a calculated attack while Sett had his arms filled with you.

"Woah! Buddy. What're you doing—?" Aphelios snatched Sett's chin, and planted the black marker against his nose and cheeks. With quick strokes, he painted the look of an actual dog on his face. Whiskers, snout and all. "Wait, isn't this permanent marker!?" Sett released you from his hold, jumping out of the bed and making a beeline for the bathroom.

Aphelios released a 'hmph' with a satisfied glean in his eyes. He sat down next to you, laced his arms around you, and plopped you both against the bed.

"Maybe Phelly's the real villain," you commented, snuggling his bed of hair. "But you two need to play nice. Okay? That was a mean thing to do to Setty. You should both apologize."

There was a twitch in his brow. He was the mean one!? He needed to apologize!? He brought you closer, placing his face between your neck and shoulder. He shook his head back and forth.

"Yes. Phelly. It's the nice thing to do," you said softly. "I know you two won't always get along. But I know you both love each other very much. And I love you both very much, too. And we can show that when we apologize after we hurt one another. Right?"

Aphelios buried himself deeper into the crook of your neck. Muffling his whines and groans into the heat of your skin. He didn't like admitting fault. He'd rather throw a written apology into the nearest burning trash can than give it to the actual person. It wasn't his fault he tended to hold onto grudges. It was always the other person's fault for not taking his personality into consideration. If they cared enough, they would know that about him. And in that case, they were making the conscious decision to be put on his shit list. He was the reasonable one. As far as he could tell.

"Please, Phelly," you asked sweetly, planting a kiss to the top of his head.

He exhaled one last breath of resistance. Somehow, you always had an unfair advantage over him. Slowly, he left the warmth of your body. That was a painful in itself. He almost cowered back into your arms. Needing a bit more strength, he slipped his mask down, and took your lips. Applying just enough pressure to make you both moan. Alright. That's all he needed. He could do this. He took up his notebook and marker.

Just as Aphelios was about to leave the room, Sett appeared from the door. His cheeks bruised red from all the scrubbing he had to do. Aphelios shifted his gaze away. A silent grip ensnared the two. Sett rubbed the guilty knot at the back of his neck. After a moment of silence, he grumbled under his breath. "Listen, Phel—"

Aphelios flipped his notebook around:

Sorry.

Sett stumbled against his words. He hadn't expected Aphelios to be the one to apologize first. Or honestly, apologize in the first place. Technically, it was Sett's own fault for egging him on the way he did. Sett's trouble was evident in the frown lines against his face.

"Yeah. I'm sorry too, Phel." Sett sighed, ears drooped. "I shouldn't have teased ya'h like that. But I couldn't help it. I just wanted you to take a break and cuddle with us. That's all. Hope you can forgive me."

Aphelios paused. The marker squeaked against the paper. He tossed his chin away, cheeks stained pink. He flipped the notepad:

I'll forgive you. On one condition. I'm middle.

Sett's ears perked-up. Grinning like a panting pup, he swooped Aphelio's into his love-crushing arms. You laughed when Sett dove onto the bed, causing you to bounce from the weight. Unraveling Aphelios like a long awaited package, you and Sett planted kisses against his flushed cheeks. The both of you then secured your legs across him, took up his upper-body, and rubbed against his figure in every way possible. Aphelios whined and groaned. He wanted to be cuddled—not suffocated. Of course, with his luck, things had to turn out this way.

an: poly!settphel x reader is my new crack. give me all the fics pls. also, maybe the next part will be nsfw. hmmmm! thank you for the follow req. anon!

[jahayla-parker]

Boy Friends : Conrad Fisher x Reader Smut Epilogue

Description: 3,370 wc SMUT, the ending to Boy Friends -a jealous!Conrad fic available here.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, MDNI, oral sex both male and female receiving, vaginal penetration, explicit sexual content, riding, praise and praise!kink, cum, cum swallowing, orgasms, very light nipple play.

Y/n ran her hands down Conrad’s chest slowly. “Are you okay now?” She whispered, stepping closer to her boyfriend.

Conrad grinned down at y/n and hummed. “Never better,” he confessed.

“Yeah?” Y/n asked, batting her eyelashes dramatically. She licked her bottom lip and tucked it between her teeth as she stared expectantly at Conrad.

“Yeah, thank you, darling,” Conrad replied, snaking his arms around y/n’s waist. His hands rested on the back pockets of her shorts.

“Of course, Connie,” y/n purred. She bent her head until her lips met Conrad’s neck. The second her plump lips grazed his suntanned skin, Conrad let out a soft moan.

Conrad tightened his hold on y/n. After he’d pulled her closer, her body now flush against his chest, he hummed to himself.

“So then I guess you don’t need me to show you just how much I love you,” y/n mumbled lowly, placing a wet kiss to Conrad’s neck. She laced her fingers in the hair at the bottom of his head and tugged lightly. “Remind you what separates my boy friends like Jere from you, my boyfriend,” y/n whispered against Conrad’s heated neck, “hmm?”.

Conrad groaned, the noise coming out almost in a growl. “Don’t use Jeremiah’s name in the same sentence as boy friend,” he muttered enviously, pulling y/n closer to him by sliding his hands into her back pockets. “Even if as boy friends and not boyfriend,” Conrad directed, leaning into y/n’s lips as they rested on his collarbone.

Y/n played with his hair with pretend innocence. “Still jealous there, Con?” She questioned, hinting that she was offering to try a different remedy than her more pure attempts from earlier. Y/n moved her hands to Conrad’s chest as she stared up into his eyes.

Conrad rolled his eyes as if offended by y/n’s insinuation. But, his flushed cheeks gave away his other thoughts. “I thought I didn’t need to be,” Conrad argued, raising his eyebrow as he gazed down at y/n.

“You don’t,” y/n agreed with a smirk, trailing her hand over her boyfriend’s torso. “But,” she hummed quietly before biting her bottom lip. In a sultry voice, her hands roaming Conrad’s body, she purred, “it seems like maybe I need to prove that to you”.

Conrad’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. He could already feel the tension between his penis and the previously-loose material of his shorts intensifying. “I won’t oppose to that,” Conrad accepted, his voice merely a shaky whimper. He could’ve sworn he was going to lose his mind as he watched y/n lower half to the ground in front of him.

Conrad took an impassioned breath as he watched y/n kneel before him, her fingers already hooked under his waistband. He licked his lips while she worked to free him from his shorts. Conrad shivered as y/n’s nails faintly dragged along his engorged skin.

Y/n smirked as she lowered Conrad’s swim trunks to his feet, his dick eagerly springing upwards. “Mmmm honey look at you,” she said zealously, sliding her pointer finger down the path of Conrad’s v-line. “Ready for me already?” y/n asked as she brought her hand closer to his dick. “You just can’t wait to feel my lips on your cock, can you, Connie?” Y/n purred, the back of her fingers teasingly stroking down his length.

Conrad whimpered, his eyes screwed shut in lust. “Y/n…, I-,” He babbled incoherently. Conrad lazily opened his eyes, enlarged pupils now drawing in the sight before him. He gasped as y/n pressed her palms into his hips and pushed him backwards. A tiny surprised laugh left Conrad’s lips as his back landed onto the mattress.

Y/n wasted no time kneeling on the bed and crawling back to Conrad. She made her lips swollen and plump by biting and licking them erotically as she neared her boyfriend. Y/n settled her knees on the outside of Conrad’s thighs as her upper body towered over him.

Despite Conrad’s slightly dazed state, he was cognizant enough to remember he needed to grab something first. He chuckled sweetly at the confused expression on y/n’s face as he turned slightly and reached for his nightstand. Conrad wordlessly flipped back around, a hair tie now between his fingers as he returned to his original position under y/n. He signaled for her to lower her head to his chest, smiling to himself as her hair sprawled across his torso and lower neck. Conrad quickly tied up y/n’s hair in a horribly messy knot, grinning at her as she lifted her head back up.

Conrad saw the surprised expression on his girlfriend’s face and chuckled briefly. He smirked. “Please,” Conrad scoffed lightheartedly, his fingers trailing y/n’s waist. “You know how much I love to see your pretty face when you suck me off”.

“Mmmm,” y/n nodded with a matching smirk. She let her eyes flicker from Conrad’s face for a moment as she grabbed his hard-on. Y/n breathily hummed encouragingly as she stroked the backside of Conrad’s shaft. She bit back a smug smile as she felt him already twitching in her hands.

Y/n smirked at just how easily she could rile Conrad up. She lowered her mouth onto him, proudly accepting his full length in one go. Y/n puffed her cheeks, intentionally letting the steamy air in her mouth hit his erection. She didn’t involve her tongue yet in her enrapture of Conrad, just having her trapped breath cascade over him. Her actions made him whimper as he shifted against the bedding under him.

Y/n narrowed her cheeks, her lips pursed tightly around Conrad’s dick. Her tight encirclement explored its prey as she leisurely pulled her head backwards. Just as y/n’s lips slid off Conrad’s length, he instinctually lifted his hips upwards, closer to her face. “Shhh,” y/n whispered sweetly, “just sit back and relax, Connie”.

Y/n took a recharging breath before sultrily rewetting her inflamed lips. “It’s my job to take care of you tonight,” y/n’s saccharine voice promised, “I’m going to show you the exclusive benefits to being my boyfriend”. She watched as Conrad’s eyes widened with excitement.

Y/n tauntingly lowered her head right above where she was steadying his erection. She teasingly gazed up Conrad, batting her eyes visible to him just over his tip. Y/n kitten licked his tip as she maintained eye contact. Upon seeing Conrad’s white hot reaction to her touch, she lapped her tongue further down on him.

Even as Conrad moaned loudly and gripped the sheets, Y/n took her time reminding him of the ways in which she was his. She slowly took more and more of him in her mouth, twirling her tongue around him. Y/n knew her jaw was going to be sore tomorrow as her lips held his twitching dick steady. Eventually, due to Conrad’s burning desire for more of her, she had to rest her hands on his hips to keep him from bucking. Tonight was her night to work, not his.

Y/n continued to suck Conrad off, a smug glint in her eyes as she watched her boyfriend squirm over her touch. She wordlessly moved one hand from his hip, trailing it upwards sensually until it cupped his left ballsack. Y/n squeezed him as she pulled her lips off briefly in need of air.

Despite y/n still playing erotically with his balls as she caught her breath, Conrad wanted to check in. “Are-,” he moaned, “fuuck…”. Conrad chuckled breathily at himself. “Are you doing okay?” He asked considerately, his fingers lazily running down y/n’s cheek.

Y/n smiled appreciatively at her adoring and chivalrous boyfriend. She nodded, taking another deep breath to refill her tired lungs. “Yes,” y/n answered upon seeing Conrad’s silent but knowing look; she needed to answer with her words for him to be satisfied with her state. Y/n lifted her other hand from Conrad’s hip and used it to stroke his damp dick. Both hands rubbed their respected treasures in the way she knew he loved. Once she felt she’d sufficiently caught her breath, she licked her lips as she lowered her head back down to his twitching member.

“You’re doing so good, Conrad,” y/n praised as her tongue slid off of him. “You taste so good,” she complimented, going back in for another taste. She moaned around his girth, eyes closed as Conrad’s audible moan erupted into the bedroom. But, y/n could tell he was holding back; she knew her man too well. “Don’t be shy, I want to hear how good you feel”.

Y/n’s praise and encouraging request made Conrad crumble. His hips sank into the sheets, his abdomen and torso curling forward and up slightly. Conrad grabbed onto the messy knot he’d tied y/N’s hair into moments before, needing to hold something. “F-fuck,” Conrad moaned loudly as stars clouded his vision.

“That���s it, baby,” y/n purred, one hand still grasping his balls, the other now drawing circles on his v-line.

“Y/n,” Conrad moaned, his head heavy against his mattress. “I-I…I’m…” he stuttered, moaning again as y/n’s teeth tenderly grazed his cock. Conrad took a shaky breath as he tried to warn her of what was coming. “B-babe,” he huffed, “I’m gonna.. c-cu-“.

Y/n leaned back, lips momentarily parting from Conrad’s trembling cock. She gazed lovingly at her lustful boyfriend. Y/n smiled and nodded, “that’s fine”. She watched the relief cross Conrad’s glossy eyes as she dropped her head back down to his waist.

Y/n felt Conrad’s fingers tugging at the hair in her messy updo as her tongue swirled along his cock. She focused her movements on helping him cross the finish-line, her tongue sneaking down to his trigger point. Y/n showed Conrad she knew his body like nothing and no one else, her tongue pressing tenderly on the spot she knew would get him. She smugly moaned against his cock as he tightened his grip on her hair as her tongue merely grazed what was essentially his cum release button.

Y/n quickly sucked on Conrad’s erupting dick, swallowing his heated release. She continued to lap up his release with soft strokes along his shaft.

Conrad moaned sinfully as he struggled to keep his eyes open. He loved the sight of y/n orally pleasing him as if her life depended on it. But, the ecstasy of his high made his eyes feel heavy. Even as his eyes reluctantly shut, his lips continued to praise her name.

Y/n pulled back, licking the remaining drops of Conrad’s salty cum off her lips. She analyzed his fucked out expression, smiling as he slowly opened his eyes again. “Hey, baby,” she cooed, letting go of Conrad’s heated pelvis and cupping his face.

“Th-thank-,” Conrad breathed heavily, heavy fingers dancing on y/n’s cheek.

“Shhh,” y/n lovingly cut Conrad off, “I’m here for you, babe.” She gently lifted his hand off her cheek and pressed a kiss to it. “Anything else I can do for my lovely boyfriend?”

Y/n noticed Conrad’s shy smile and slight apprehension. She knew that meant he had a desire for her to fulfill but didn’t want to push her too hard. She’d learned long ago that Conrad could easily go multiple rounds but always worried about overdoing it with regards to her sake. “Tell me, Connie,” y/n whispered, batting her eyelashes slowly.

Conrad seemed to take y/n’s repeated question as reassurance of her ability to keep going. He smiled lazily, “I want you to ride my face”.

Y/n’s eyes widened, not expecting that response. “This is about you, Con-“ she replied, giving him a thankful smile.

“I know,” Conrad said, his voice laced with his appreciation. “But.. Fuck,” he muttered lustfully as he threw his head back against the bed. “Just thinking of it… You… your pussy,” Conrad rambled unintelligently, “…always tastes so good”.

Y/n stared at Conrad. She hadn’t anticipated such a request. Her goal was only to get him off, not attend to herself.

Conrad shot y/n a relaxed smirk. “Come on, sweetie,” he pleaded, “you said you wanted to remind me of the privileges I get by not only being a boy whose a friend, but your boyfriend”. Conrad drew messy shapes on her thighs but his eyes stayed on hers. “Surely you won’t deny me this privilege then, hmm?” he taunted, nonetheless still alert for any sign she might not want this.

Y/n shook her head and grinned bashfully at Conrad. She quietly lowered herself off of him and off the bed. Y/n took in the sight before her as she stripped at the end of Conrad’s bed.

Conrad scooted his way up his bed as y/n crawled back onto the mattress. He watched with delight as she moved to straddle his chest. Conrad leaned into her hand as she stroked his face while gazing into his eyes.

As y/n went to move her bottom half to his mouth, Conrad halted her movements. “You’re okay with this right?” He asked respectfully. “We don’t have to do this, if you don’t -“ Conrad continued softly.

Y/n knew if she said no, Conrad would stop whatever he/they were doing without being upset at her. Even now with her current goal in place and Conrad’s mixed emotions over her friendship with Jeremiah, she knew if she stopped now Conrad would still never even jokingly claim she didn’t prove how her feelings for him differed from that towards Jeremiah. But, she wanted this too. It might not have been her intent going into this, but she surely was not going to complain that her boyfriend wanted to eat her out. Especially not when Conrad was sinfully talented with his tongue.

Y/n nodded, “I’ll gladly do anything you want me to baby, just relax for me, yeah?” She hummed, “I want this too”. “Now…Let me take care of my man,” y/n purred as she pressed Conrad’s chest deeper into the mattress.

Conrad moaned as his head flopped back onto his pillow as y/n moved upwards on him. His hands instantly find her bare waist, fingers sinking into the skin of her inner hips as she lowers herself onto his face. As Conrad’s lips greedily made contact with y/n’s private set of lips, they both moaned.

Y/n lowered herself onto Conrad more, practically crying in ecstasy as his tongue dived into her. She began rolling her hips in dramatized circles, head tilted back and resting against her neck. Y/n whimpered sinfully as Conrad started to suck her folds into his hungry mouth.

Y/n panted with ecstasy as Conrad’s smug chuckle at her reaction vibrated against her. She moved further up to the headboard, grabbing the top edge of it as she let more of her weight fall on Conrad. Y/n wrote Conrad’s name in cursive with her hips as his grip on her tightened.

Y/n obeyed Conrad’s request as he tapped on her thigh to signal for her to let the rest of her weight rest on him. She sank down completely into Conrad’s face, his moan ricocheting deep inside of her. “That’s good, baby,” y/n mewled, wishing she could somehow sink into him further. “Fuck,” she purred, hands sliding down Conrad’s headboard until they found an accessible part of his hair. “Holy-, you’re…, making me feel so good, Connie,” y/n praised in a whimpering voice.

Conrad graciously lapped up y/n’s juices, savoring the taste. He slid one hand to her ass, giving it a hard squeeze. Conrad gasped when y/n unexpectedly not only moaned but thrusted her hips forward against his nose. Conrad purred into y/n, squeezing her asscheeks again to hear her moan his name.

Conrad’s other hand blindly explored upwards under y/n’s shirt, tugging at the fabric in his way.

Y/n quickly pulls the shirt over her head and tosses it to the floor. She gasped as Conrad effortlessly managed to untie her swimsuit top despite her once again seated on his face and blocking his view. Y/n could feels Conrad smirk proudly against her folds causing her to whimper.

Conrad cupped y/n’s breast in his large hand and started to blindly play with it. His tongue enjoying the way her juices flowed in response. Conrad used his thumb to tenderly play with y/n’s hardened nipple. He could tell by the pulsations in her cunt just how much she was enjoying this; enjoying him.

It took Y/n a moment to pull herself back to her self-assigned task, the unbelievable ecstasy having temporarily distracted her. She focused on the amazing sensation of Conrad’s skilled tongue exploring her inner walls. Y/n took advantage of his tongue’s current position and tightened her vaginal walls around it. “Conrad!” she screamed in pure bliss he responded to her clenching with a hearty moan that vibrated against her as both of his hands tightening their hold on her. Y/n couldn’t hold back the gush of fluids that poured into Conrad’s all too eager mouth.

Conrad pulled y/n’s hips upwards on his face as he drank her sweet release. He felt y/n tug at his hair as she bent her head backwards with a beautiful whine.

Y/n reached behind herself, stretching her fingers as she took hold of Conrad’s once again hardened cock. Simultaneously, she slid the other hand to his neck. Normally, she’d leave a hickey for him to notice the next day. But, given Conrad was still actively eating her out, her mouth couldn’t reach. So instead, y/n pinched some of the skin on his neck in between her thumb and pointer finger and tenderly rolled it with some light pressure.

Conrad’s moan caused his neck to vibrate against y/n’s hold. She grinned, stifling her lustful panting as she focused on making him feel even better. Y/n twisted the hand that was holding onto Conrad’s cock. Her actions made Conrad nip slightly at her insides.

Y/n reactively tightened around Conrad’s tongue, her hips lifting some before going back down onto his face. She lovingly rubbed his shaft as she purred. “Fuck, you’re so big, babe,” she praised. Y/N’s leg shook as Conrad thanked her by slamming his tongue against her g-spot. “A-and s-so talented with that tongue,” she mewled.

Y/n resisted the urge to cum as she continued to ride Conrad’s face. The sheer ecstasy stemming from his mouth exploring and setting claim to her pussy was mind blowing. Y/n suspected Conrad must’ve known she was resisting her climax as he brought one hand up to her clit as he began sucking on her cunt. “Ahhh, Connie!” She screamed, eyes screwed shut.

Conrad greedily pulled on y/n’s hips, guiding her pussy harder against his lips. He stroked her thigh lovingly as he helped her ride out her high. Conrad’s pace on her clit never faltered even as he inhaled her aroma and effortlessly lapped up her orgasm.

When she finally came down from her climax, y/n brought her attention back to Conrad once again. She slid her throbbing cunt down his face and onto his chest. As she looked over her shoulder, y/n could visibly confirm that Conrad was close to another orgasm himself. Therefore, as she listened to Conrad whine over the break of contact despite panting for air, she made a plan.

“Shh, handsome,” y/n smoothly instructed, “I told you I’d take care of you”. Before Conrad could even question it, she swung around on him until she was straddling him facing away. His hand had barely come up to steady her ass as she lowered her mouth back onto his cock. Y/n quickly sucked off the pre cum that had already released before she’d even reconnected her mouth to him. She made rocking wavelike motions with her lips against his twitching shaft. Y/n’s tongue played tauntingly with his dripping tip.

Before y/n could take any further action, she felt Conrad’s cock twitch uncontrollably as he squeezed her ass. Y/n heard his satisfied moan echo into the air as Conrad ejaculated into her mouth. She took her sweet time licking him clean while placing kisses to his sensitive cock.

When y/n’s lips officially left Conrad’s dick, she carefully spun around so she could see him. She proudly grinned upon seeing the fucked senseless look on Conrad’s face. “I’m so damn glad I’m your boyfriend,” he mumbled with a shit eating grin as y/n played with his messy hair.

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[jmvore]

mr. lover | wild thought(s) drabble [r1]

↳ SYNOPSIS › a little peace and quiet with your baby boy. » warning(s) › feeding Jimin strawberries, jimin getting horny from rubs, & Jimin falling asleep on you (nothing severe), touching genitals? idk what to call it but jimin humps you lol, loads of kissing (because who wouldn't want to kiss Jimin?), biting, a little foodplay. » pairing(s) › jimin x reader » word(s) › 800+ (it's a small one) » song playing › say yes by floetry » note(s) › so, this was supposed to be apart of a request but i couldn't figure out where to put it so i decided to make it, it's own drabble. it's barely edited sooo if it doesn't make sense, sorry lol. any pamper your baby boy! enjoy and

thank you for reading! & remember: you nice, keep going.❤️

› masterlist ‹

“Open up sweetheart.”

You gently stroke his chin, watching him close his eyes and open his mouth. The strawberry dipped in melted chocolate is brought to his lips for him to taste.

"Bite, Petal." He does he is told, moaning at the taste before running his tongue over his lips. He grabs your hand after discarding the stem in the trash as he licks the juice and extra chocolate off your fingers. "You're going to start something if you keep this up."

"I hope so." He giggles when you smirk, throwing his arm around your neck to try and unwind. There's a beat of silence. You welcome it, giving him the stress-free atmosphere he needs and playing with his hair. You run your fingers through it to hear him purr like a kitten. He loves it when you gently scratch his scalp. Pamper him like a princess while lovingly kissing his forehead and telling him you love him.

If he's being honest, it's his favorite pass time. Especially when neither of you have much going on and you can simply lay in each others arms.

Jimin yawns, melting deeper into your caressing. From the looks of it, you know he's going to fall asleep soon.

“How do you feel?”

“Better. Relaxed.” He grins, leaning up to press his body on top of yours. Only to cause you to fall backward. He giggles and you can't help but return the sentiment as he nuzzles his face in your neck and plants kisses all over your collarbones. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart." You stop him but he whines in retaliation. You know he's going to regret not going to sleep at his normal time. "Baby, it's almost three am. You need to sleep."

"I don't wanna."

"Jimin-" He cuts you off with a kiss before going back to kissing your jawline. You let the covers slip from your body, pulling closer to give his thigh a squeezes.

“I love you.”

“And I love you, sweetheart. Sleep.” You lean forward and kiss the top of his head as he lets out another giggle but this one actually makes you coo. "Baby..."

"No sleep. I just wanna stay up with you." He says playfully while he snuggles into your chest while throwing his arms around your middle. For a moment, you believe him to be asleep until he rises from the position he’s in and glances at your lips before looking you straight in the eyes and smirking. 

“Kiss me again.” It's not a question nor was it a request.

You smirk once you realize it, placing your finger underneath his chin and pressing your lips against his like he demanded. Of course, that’s not enough. At least, for Jimin. He closes his eyes the moment you thread your fingers through his hair to pull at the tips of it as he moans, mostly sounding like a purr.

“You’re going to start something-”

“Maybe that’s what I want.” Jimin grins against your lips before going back to kissing you. He pushes his tongue into your mouth but quickly loses control as he melts into your arms. He knows it’s doing something to you, the way you’re moaning and rutting against him. He loves the way you're so fucking into him and if this doesn't work out, he doesn't know if he’ll recover from how well you take care of him.

Shit, what if it doesn’t though… He doesn’t want to start over-

“No thinking.” You get him to look at you as you shake your head. You felt it the moment the kiss weakened. “Whatever it is. It’s not important right now.”

Your hands trail down his back to round his ass to get him to grind against your leg before giving it a smack. You squeeze and kneed it for his comfort before moving so he's laying on top of you.

"C'mere." You sound so fucking sexy and it has Jimin whimpering in return. "Look what you've done."

You bring his hand down to you cunt, letting him run his finger through your lips to see how wet you are. His eyes follow before looking up to you and meeting yours.

"You wanna play?" He nods but you shake your head. "Words, Petal."

"I-I wanna p-play with you. Yes."

His other hand goes to grab your breast, leaning down to roll his tongue around your nipple. Though just as quick as he was to start, you stop him by bringing him face to face.

"I wanna touch you."

"Do you?"

He nods, groaning when you nip at his bottom lip to pull it toward you. Rutting against you as his cock slides against your wet pussy. You softly moan the moment his hips fallen into a rhythm, not wanting to stop him because with how hard he is and how wet you are, it feels way too good to stop. Especially when he his cock presses against your clit.

“I’m gonna cum…” He whines as you grip his ass harder to get him to rut faster.

“Good. Cum for me, Petal.”

Jimin grips your shoulders to the point you know it’s probably going to leave a bruise. You don’t care, you’re more concerned with him cumming than anything else.

“Keep going, baby.”

“I’m gonna cum…” He whimpers again, face falling into the crook of your neck as he throws his arms around it. “C-Close…”

“Cum, baby. C’mon.”

“Ah! Ah!” His nails dig into the bed as he hangs his head in pleasure. He shudders through a chill. His hips stuttering the moment he catches his bearings. You reach up to caress the side of his face as he leans into it with a dopey grin. 

“How do you feel now, Petal?"

Jimin collapses onto your chest with a deep sigh. As he lays there, you realize you’re going to have to coax him back from his head space. 

"Baby?”

"’m 'kay…’ Jimin grins, snuggling his face into your neck. “I feel good.”

You hold him by his waist before rubbing up and down his back to get him to calm down. 

"Wanna lay down?’

“Please.”

You maneuver him to the bed, getting him to lay on his front but he shakes his head. Before you can ask what’s wrong, he motions for you to join him.

“It helps.”

You nod, laying on your back, you pull him into your arms as you begin to trace the moons going down his back.

“Feeling better, baby?”

"Y-Yes.” He leans forward to press a soft kiss to your lips as you both smile into it. “Thank you.”

You notice he’s starting to nod off, his head lolling about once you get him to stay still in your arms.

"Sleep?"

“Sleep baby. I’ll be right here, Petal.’

Jimin hums as you place a kiss on his forehead and you can’t help but admire your baby. Hugging him tighter, not wanting to let go.

”I love you,” You whisper, knowing it’s most likely the last thing he heard as he begins to drift off into dreamland.

©2023 » JMVORE || @/googikoo and @/http-pjm » All Rights Reserved.  DO NOT Copy, Translate, Re-Upload, or Steal ANY of my work. Thank You!

[cherrybeomz]

lazy | c.bg

summary: beomgyu falls asleep on top of you after a gaming night, you hold him close & he gets way too comfy...

warnings: nipple play, titty sucking, lazy gamer gyu is a warning by itself lol hes a bit gross, teasing, thigh humping, lots of spit, pussy eating

wc: 1.3k

a/n: im so weak for lazy gamer gyu you guys........ im obsessed with a stinky boy! love that for me. anyways this is my first time posting here lemme know if u want pt 2 <3

You ran your fingers easily through Beomgyu’s hair. It’s knot-free and smooth, which you found immediately weird given that your boyfriend always messed up his hair beyond repair when he’s gaming and that’s what your evening was all about — lazing around on the couch playing video games while cuddling Beomgyu.

He must’ve showered before you came over, you thought. Beomgyu didn’t stir when you got closer to his head to smell his hair. You giggled thinking about how weird it was but also, his natural scent was something that comforted you — he would tease you endlessly if he found out you were smelling him, though. 

You inhaled his scent and your body relaxed instantly. The faint smell of his sweet perfume brought a smile to your face. To this day, you didn’t understand why he liked to wear perfume indoors but in moments like this, you appreciated it. You ran your fingers through his hair once again and smiled as you held him closer to your chest. He sighed in his sleep.

After spending your evening playing around, you finally felt your energy running out so you decided to drift off to sleep for a bit, making yourself as comfortable as you could with Beomgyu sleeping on your chest.

You guessed a couple of hours passed when you woke up because you were dripping in sweat. It wasn’t necessarily hot outside but both of you slept with a blanket over you and the apartment always felt warmer at night. You slowly stirred, immediately acknowledging Beomgyu’s weight on top of you. But by the sounds you heard, he wasn’t sleeping anymore.

“Having fun, aren’t you?” You asked him, and he nodded as he sleepily kissed your skin, slowly moving up to your collarbones, shoulders, and neck. 

You didn’t even have to open your eyes to see his desperate look. He must’ve woken up in the middle of the night with a boner and the fact that he was sleeping on top of you wasn’t helping his case.

Oh, sleepy and horny Beomgyu was your favorite.

It was hilarious how he didn’t even open his eyes, he just kissed every inch of skin his lips felt.

You were content with it — nothing was better than waking up to having your chest kissed, Or maybe it was… if your boyfriend stopped being lazy and actually brought his mouth to your nipples. Or your lips.

But dear lazy, sleepy, and very horny Beomgyu rather wanted to spend a few more minutes like this, eating you up, licking all the sweat from your skin. He really couldn’t tease you for smelling him earlier when he was just as gross as you.

He soon grew tired of being lazy — thank god — and decided to rearrange your setup so he could sit on one of your thighs and started humping it. You laughed at the audacity and he startled, looking at you with a gleam in his eyes.

“Baby… Do you mind?” He said as he put all his weight on your thigh, shyly averting your gaze, visibly embarrassed.

“Do I mind if you ride my thigh?” You asked, amused. “Of course not, darling. Look at you, you can’t even open your eyes.”

He humphed. “I’m sleepy, that’s all.”

“I can tell, but you also woke me up. You’ll have to make it up to me.” You tease him, lifting your thigh so it presses against his crotch, making him moan loudly in surprise.

“Oh, you’re such a menace…” He mumbles. He’s fully sitting on your thighs now, not laying down anymore, and you’re obsessed with how good he looks — with his eyes still closed, expression tight, lost in the pleasure and opening his mouth every now and then as he lets out moans that sound heavenly to you.

Seeing him being this wrecked had you dripping like crazy, panties soaked. You felt your pulse in your pussy as he moved faster, holding your hips by now so he could steady himself and move easier. You could feel how good he was feeling just by looking at his face, mouth fully open now, saliva dripping from his lips and one of his hands running through his own hair. He was totally feeling himself.

God, you loved seeing him use you merely for his pleasure. You just hoped he would make it up to you when he felt like it because everything felt hot right now, your panties were sticky as all hell and you just wanted his tongue cleaning you up.

“Oh God…” He sighed to himself. “Wait, come closer,” he said and wrapped his arms around your neck. You drew in a breath as he started kissing your neck. You really didn’t expect him to give you attention this early but surely you wouldn’t complain, especially when he drew one of his hands from your neck and slowly traced your body with it. 

You felt his touch everywhere, his large and warm hands moving from your waist to your ribs, going back down your stomach slowly, making you shiver. Beomgyu laughed as he kissed all over your neck when he felt you trying to close your thighs but couldn’t because he was positioned in the middle.

Never did you think the touch of the fabric of your panties could overwhelm you this much. Beomgyu’s fingers trailed the waistband of your underwear and you choked up, surprised, as he devoured one of your nipples at once.

Goodness, this boy was too much for your sanity…

You couldn’t help it, bucking up your hips to feel him closer, the bulge in his sweatpants overwhelmingly huge, waiting for you.   

“Who’s the one having fun now?” He joked.

Look at him joking now, when you can’t even think straight. “Finally woke up? It was about time.” 

“Mmhm… But you looked like you were having fun, looking at me like that,” he said.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing you playing with yourself,” you said, looking down at him and tracing the drops of sweat on his eyebrows. He looked insane like that, looking up at you with his hand halfway inside your panties and his tongue playing with your nipples. “But don’t you love it more when we’re like this?” Bucking up your hips once again, hands coming down to his ass to hold him even closer. 

He stuttered, closing his eyes tightly, “Fuck…”

“Thought so,” you said.

You thought he would give up on the pleasure and cum just like that, rutting against your clothed pussy, boobs in his mouth, drooling all over — but you were oh, so absolutely wrong.

Out of nowhere, he got up from the couch and stood before you. You were previously sitting on top of him so now you were left scrawled on the couch, chest heaving.

You saw him swallow when you opened your legs, showing him what was his to take. It must’ve been a sight, you wearing only one of his oversized shirts and your underwear. He was salivating by now, seeing you this way. You didn’t know what he was waiting for, but you couldn’t handle waiting for him anymore so you brought your hand to your pussy and started trailing up and down over your panties. 

You felt your heartbeat pick up when you started touching your clit, soft moans leaving your lips. Distracted by your own pleasure you didn’t see Beomgyu approaching you, but he didn’t touch you, he simply got closer to breathe against your ear and whispered: “I hate that you’re always right.”

Next thing you know, you gasp in surprise as he entirely takes your panties off, and holds up a bit, bringing them to his nose and breathing them in. 

Holy shit, he was so disgusting, but why did it turn you on so much? 

Your thighs quivered, your pussy suddenly feeling very cold with how soaked it was. Beomgyu looked at you right before really lapping at your folds, finally, finally, giving you what you wanted.

[favouriteteddypicker]

what about mulder having soft sex with the reader to show how much he loves her?

Definitely! Here’s the story I’ve written, I hope you like it!

Indiana Jones will be next :)

——————————————————————————

Word Count: 2.0k

—————————————————————————-

The soft sunlight broke free through your window, gently shining on your face. You were wearing your pyjama shorts with nothing underneath and no top on as you just woke up.

You stretched your arms out before you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, today was your birthday.

You slowly opened your eyes, adjusting to the light. You looked next to you but the bed was empty, you saw the exact spot that Fox had been sleeping on only he wasn't there.

You looked at the nightstand besides your bed, maybe he left a note or something to tell you that he's gone out like he usually does, but nothing.

You were a little confused until you heard something rumbling downstairs in the kitchen, the rumbling was followed up by Fox humming his favourite song.

You smiled to yourself as you heard him tiptoe up the stairs, trying not to wake you. You sat up in bed, covering your chest with the blanket as you had a sweet smile on your face while watching Fox slowly enter the room wearing just his boxers, his hair still messy. It was obvious that he stood up like that.

"Oh good morning birthday girl, I hope I didn't wake you?" He asked a little guilty as he saw you sitting up, his hands behind his back. "I thought you were still a sleep, you looked so peaceful when I got up."

"No don't worry." You giggled. "The sunlight woke me up, what were you up to?"

"Well since today is your birthday, I thought I'd make you breakfast in bed." He said as he brought his hands back from behind his back, revealing fresh orange juice and a homemade breakfast.

"Fox..." You said in adoration. "You know you didn't have to right?"

"I know." He said as he walked over and handed it to you, pressing a kiss on your forehead before he crawled back into bed next to you. "I just really wanted to."

“Oh yeah?" You said after you took a sip of your orange juice, putting it and the food on the bedside table. "Just cause it's my birthday?"

"Mhm." He said as he moved closer to you, kissing your bare back. "I'll take every opportunity I get to show you how much I love you."

You softly hummed as you felt his soft lips against your skin. "I love it when you show me how much you love me."

"Oh really?" He said as he moved his kisses towards your neck. "What's your favourite way of me showing you?"

"You know exactly what my favourite way is." You said as you slightly pushed his chin up, making him look at you.

His pupils grew as he looked at you, an adoring smile on his lips. The soft sunlight hit his toned chest and made it look even better than it usually does.

You cupped his face with your hands, slowly moving your thumbs over his soft skin. You pecked his lips as you both closed your eyes, without any hesitation he kissed you back.

His soft lips against yours never failed to make you melt, they felt so perfect against each other. Fox his strong hands moved over to your back, pulling you closer against his chest. His one hand moved towards the back of your neck, gently holding on to you.

He slowly pushed you down onto the bed, climbing on top of you and sitting in between your now spread legs as his lips didn't leave yours.

You felt the bulge in his underwear press against your pyjama shorts as a little hum left your mouth into the kiss.

"Well than your lucky it's your birthday." He softly said as he looked into your eyes.

You gently bit your bottom lip as you looked up at him, his beautiful dark eyes staring into yours. A small giggle left your lips as you felt him kiss your neck, slowly making his way down to your collarbone, eventually all the way down to your abdomen while his hands moved up and down your waist before they settled on your breasts. You let your head fall back slightly and gently opened your legs a bit more as you felt his hot kisses reach the top of your pyjama shorts.

You felt him chuckle against your skin. "You're so beautiful y/n, you know that right?" He said as he looked up at you with a little naughty smile on his face.

His hands left your breast and felt light against your skin as he brought them down, sending shivers down your spine. He hooked his fingers into the top of your shorts and gently pulled them down, leaving you naked on the bed.

He slowly began to kiss your inner thigh, making his way down as he left wet kisses all over you. His big hands tightly wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer before leaving a big kiss where you so desperately wanted him to.

A small groan left your mouth as you felt his tongue inside of you, before going up to your clit. His tongue swirled small circles on your sensitive spot as you buried one hand into his hair, the other one grabbing on to the sheets.

You felt his nails softly dig into your skin as he made sure you stayed in place with his tight grip.

You sometimes felt him look up at you cause his moves slightly changed when he did, admiring the way he made you feel.

Your head fallen back against the pillow, your eyes gently shut close, your mouth slightly parted as little moans left it, your chest rising and falling down just a bit faster due to your heavier breathing and your beautiful legs slightly raised and spread for him. It was one of his favourites sights, he loved seeing you like this.

You had grabbed a hand full of his hair and softly tugged at it while massaging your breast with your free hand, sometimes hearing a low groan escape his mouth against you as you pulled a little too hard.

He slowed down his movements before he kissed his way up your thigh again, making sure you were alright before suddenly stopping.

You looked up at him with desperation in your eyes, his hair was even messier than before, his eyes were calm, his lips a little swollen and wet, his lips parted as his breathing sped up and the soft sunlight now shone on his tinted cheeks.

He kept kissing the skin of your slightly bend knees as he removed his boxers, revealing how hard you made him.

He sat on his knees in between your legs before you went up a little while leaning on your elbows. His hands wrapped around your hips as he pushed you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He pressed your bare chest against his, your breasts being pressed against him. You wrapped your arms around his neck while you looked into each others eyes.

No words were spoken but the look on your faces already said enough. His calm eyes looked sweet, his plump lips were just begging for yours, his tinted cheeks felt warm and a little strand of hair fell in front of his face.

You softly bit the inside of your cheek, a little smile playing on your lips before you moved your hips up a bit and lining yourself up with him.

You pressed your lips against his as you lowered yourself onto him, letting him fill you up. He groaned into the kiss as he felt you around him, slightly tightening his grip on you.

You slowly started to grind your hips against his as you kept kissing him, opening your mouth to allow his tongue to fight with yours. It was tender, it was sweet, it was loving, you had all the time in the world.

Fox was particularly gentle with you today, this day was after all, all about you. He loved making you feel good, he loved hearing the noises that would escape your mouth, he loved feeling your bare skin against his, he loved the way your lips felt on his like they were made for each other, he loved having soft sex with you just as much as anything else, he loved everything about you and he loved showing you.

One of his hands laid on your lower back just above your ass while the other one was placed higher up your back, keeping you pressed up against him.

Your arms were still wrapped around his neck while one of your hands was placed between his shoulder blades and the other one had made its way to the back of his head as you grabbed a hand full of his hair again.

You moved your hips against his, up and down, back and forth as your kisses got sloppier. Your kisses kept getting interrupted by the sounds that were leaving your mouths.

You pressed your forehead against his as you stopped kissing him, both of your lips parted as small moans left them. Your eyes shut close but you could feel Fox still looking at you as he moved his hips up against yours.

He pressed your body even closer against his, leaving absolutely no space between the two of you. For a moment it felt like it was just you two on the world, like the time stopped for a small amount of time while you were pressed up against each other, hearing nothing but the pleasures you were giving each other.

You suddenly felt him push you back down on the bed, laying you down slowly without pulling out of you and keeping your legs wrapped around him tightly.

He gently moved his hips against yours as he put both of your hands above your head, pinning you down. His moves were gentle but not slow, he did his best not to hurt you and to make you enjoy every second of it.

"Faster." You said with a fulfilling sigh as you closed your eyes. "Please go faster, just a bit."

"Whatever you want." He murmured against the skin of your neck where he was leaving small kisses. "You'll get."

He sped up his moves just a little bit, but it was definitely enough to finally hit that one spot that always made you feel good.

"Fuck yes Fox." You slightly moaned as you felt your back arch.

You wrapped your legs even tighter around his waist, allowing him to go even deeper. He rested his face in the crook of your neck as you heard and felt him groan against your skin, while the grip he had on your pulse tightened.

After a little while his moves got sloppier and slowed down again but luckily he still kept hitting that one spot that would sent you over the edge.

You mouth fell open completely, your back arched just a little bit more, your toes curled, your hands forming fists and a slightly louder moan left your lips as you came, a wave of pleasure washed over you as Fox put his forehead back against yours.

"Good girl." He softly murmured as he left a kiss on your nose.

After a few more sloppy thrusts you felt him twitching inside of you before his head slightly fell back and he let out a breathy moan while he came inside of you.

He laid down next to you before pulling you closer to him, letting you rest your head on his chest. Both of you caught your breath while little drops of sweat formed on your bodies.

Fox left an out of breath kiss on the top of your head, "Do you want to take a shower before we move on with the rest of your special day?" he asked you.

"Hm depends." You hummed, "Does that mean you're not done with me yet?" You asked with a smile on your face as you looked up at him.

"I'll never be done with you." He chuckled, "Like I said, I'll take every opportunity to show you how much I love you."

[unholyhelbig]

Feral!Nance going wild over her "friend" Robin being beat up on a fight for being gæ

Title: I'd Like to Know You

Ship: Nancy Wheeler x Robin Buckley

Warnings: Homophobia, blood, usage of slurs, classic 1980's close-mindedness.

[A/n: Did this cure my writers block? Maybe. But probably not. Also, I didn't proofread]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

There was a distinct sound that accompanied broken ribs. It was a pop that was often muted and overruled by a grunt, or a scream, or any type of frazzled sound. Nancy Wheeler was sure she broke her ribs the first time she handled something stronger than a handgun. Of course, they were just bruised, but it still took her a few moments to pull gunpowder-soaked air into her lungs.

The sound she heard when Robin Buckley’s side slammed into the slate gray 1979 Camaro was undeniably that of broken ribs. She’s been shoved into the door with enough force to enact the quiet crunch, and to Robin’s credit, she barely made a noise.

Tommy Hagen pulled his hand back, already thick and crusted with blood, and brought it down into Robin’s mid-section, not allowing her to catch her breath. She coughed up a black burst of gore, spilling over Tommy’s letterman jacket.

Carol Perkins sat on the hood of an adjacent car, her heels on the fender, her gum a delicious type of purple that Nancy could smell from here as she stretched it over her tongue and let it pop against her lips in a sticky mess. She looked bored- had the audacity to be unamused as Robin lay wounded.

Nancy took a step forward before she was halted by a hand on her shoulder. It was warm and tender and filled with worry. “Nancy, don’t. It’s better to leave it.” Barb Holland grimaced, holding her books closer to her chest.

When it came to Robin Buckley, people tended to look the other way, including Nancy. There had been rumors that circulated about her since middle school, cruel names that were thrown around, written on her locker with dark cherry red lipstick. She carried herself with dignity and took beatings as if they were nothing.

But today was undeniably cold, the parking lot was empty aside for the two perpetrators, and Nancy. Barb had stayed by the doors of the school, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. She would easily close herself away to avoid confrontation and urged Nancy to do the same.

“Seriously, Nance, please.”

She appreciated what Barb was trying to do. Neither of them was one for intervening, also figuring that someone else would. But there was no one else. Nancys eyes darted around the parking lot once more. The sun was starting to set, and the toe of Tommy’s boot kicked into Robin’s collarbone. She was cornered.

Nancy clutched her math textbook until her fingers burned against the cold. She gave an apologetic look to Barb who was already retreating further into the school, before she heard herself shout. “Hey!”

The girl’s voice echoed through the lot with enough power to catch Carol’s attention. Tommy righted himself, turning halfway to peer at Nancy. It took him a few moments to recognize her as she took long and calculated steps across the lot, avoiding the patches of ice.

“Wheeler!” he laughed, holding his arms out like a sadistic ringleader. Blood dripped from his knuckles onto the pavement. “I didn’t think you’d ever show your face around here after your little peep show at the movies.”

“I hope it was worth it, Wheeler.” Carol cackled strangely, hauling herself from the hood of the car. She crossed her arms over her chest and snapped her gum twice more.

Nancy ignored them both in favor for calculating all of her strength and anger into the direction of her textbook. She slammed the calculus second edition into Tommy’s cheek with as much force as she could muster. It made an odd sound that was drowned out by his grunt of discontent.

When his head lifted, a bright flourish of blood edged by a purple forming bruise was obvious against his cheek. His fingers touched the gash, and when he pulled away, he was stunned.

Nancy growled, “Don’t touch her again. Or next time it’ll be more than a textbook.”

“Are you threatening me?” He looked back at Carol as if to confirm. “You’re threatening me for this… this dyke?”

Nancy’s eyes darted down to the girl on the ground. She groaned and spat a mix of saliva and blood onto the cement. She’d heard the slur before, it was one of the choice vocabulary words that sprawled Robin’s bike, her garage, her locker.

Her hands worked faster than her mind, clutching onto the lapels of Tommy’s jacket. She shoved his back against the side of his car. She didn’t’ have enough strength to break bones, but his breath still escaped him.

“You’re used to getting away with whatever you want because you’re a pretty boy, and a jock” He snickered at her and she lifted him from the side of the car and slammed him back down, harder this time. “Listen to me, Tommy. You may think you’re big and strong right now, but you’ve peaked. All you’ll ever be is some washed up highschooler that beat up someone smaller than him.”

His smile was slowly fading, the blood from the cut on his cheek staining his lips a hot pink, diluted color. Nancy wanted to give in to her anger, to make him hurt more than he was hurting now. And for what? For a stranger who clutched her splintered ribs and watched her with a deep, ghostly, stare.

“I’ll tell you a secret, Tommy. After you graduate, you will be the small one. The world is cruel to people who are cruel to it, Hawkin’s especially. And I have the sinking feeling that you’ll never leave Hawkins. Not alive if you keep this up.”

He let out a small noise from the back of his throat, not having a rebuttal at the ready. For good measure, Nancy lifted her knee and slammed it into his crotch with a decent amount of force. Tommy fell into her with a sharp groan, hands quickly going to his manhood.

She shoved him off and let him curl into a ball on the pavement. Carol rushed to his side, rubbing soothing circles on his back. She sent Nancy a poisonous stare, teeth grinding on the grape gum that was surely losing its flavor.

Nancy brushed it off as the adrenaline in her veins started to wear thin.  She used the last of her gall she scooped Robin Buckley off the ground and draped her arm over her shoulders, pulling the girl to her side. She smelled thick metal, of salt that was laid on the road to melt ice.

They got halfway across the parking lot before Tommy gained his voice back. It was pinched with pain. “You’re fucking dead Wheeler! You and your little girlfriend! Dead!”

She paid him no mind, leaning Robin up against the side of her father’s station wagon as she fumbled with her keys. Her fingers were shaking now, but that hardly mattered. She opened the door and shoved the trumpet player unceremoniously into the passenger seat before she climbed in herself.

Nancy peeled out of the parking lot, the tires squealed, and Robin clutched the dashboard, clearly fighting back bile that rose in her throat. Nancy hadn’t thought this all the way through. Where was she supposed to take this stranger who was bleeding profusely?

“You,” Robin spoke for the first time. It was breathy with a rasp Nancy couldn’t pin. “Shouldn’t have done that.”

She nearly hit the brakes on the station wagon if it wouldn’t’ sent them careening into the woods bordering the road. Nancy was heading home, it was subconscious, but she figured she could go in through the basement door and keep her parents from worrying.

“A thank you would work.”

“I… could have handled…it.”

“Yeah, you looked like you were handling it.”

Nancy pulled into her driveway, not paying much attention to her park job, the Station wagon was overlapping the grass. She rounded the side of the car and gently pulled the girl up. There wasn’t resistance, Robin didn’t’ have it in her, that much was clear. Though, she looked at the house, and its surroundings.

It took a few moments to navigate Robin down the stairs to the basement, there was a steady build of ice against cement. She nearly slipped, but the two of them held each other upright and welcomed the warm glow of the basement.

Her little brother was in the small part of the room that was draped with old Christmas lights, pillows, and blankets. Mike sat up an snapped his copy of X-men #134 shut. He took in the sight of Nancy, of her pink sweater that was wicked with dried blood and the injured girl that was wrapped around her.

The first words out of his mouth “I’m telling mom.”

“Do it and your Death Star model gets it.”

Nancy had used the threat before, but there was so much hostility embedded in her voice that Mike swallowed thickly and nodded before dashing up the stairs. She had to trust that it worked as she gently set Robin on the sofa.

There was a first aide kit in the cabinet above the toilet. When she returned, Robin was slumped against the cushions, staring up at the old posters on the ceiling. She blinked slowly and it was clear that it pained her to pull air into her lungs.

Nancy’s softness as she instructed Robin to sit up surprised them both. She used warm water and soap on a washcloth. There was more blood than clear skin on Robin’s face, and Nancy tenderly began to wipe it away, avoiding the gashes and lacerations.

She found Robin’s eyes fascinating. They were a deep shade of pillowy blue, and they held so much pain. As she wiped the russet color away from the girls cheeks, she was met with a smattering of freckles, and soft pink lips. She’d never looked at Robin Buckley before. In fact, most of the time she actively tried to look away.

“What you did back there… it was really brave. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Nancy scoffed, sliding her fingers against Robin’s jaw as she pushed her head to the side and scrubbed at a strip of dried blood. “Tommy is a dick. I meant what I said. You have way more potential in this world than he does.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t have to.” Nancy busied herself with finding a bottle of alcohol and a few cotton pads. Robin winced when it touched the cut on her chin, breathing through her clenched teeth. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Most people would have walked away, you know? I’ve never expected Hawkin’s to be this giant welcoming committee with balloons and confetti, but this? It’s usually a witch hunt before and after class. Tommy and his friends… they’ve never gone this far.”

“And they never will again.”

Nancy was surprised by the earnest in her words. She was suddenly aware of their closeness. Nancy was practically draped across Robin to reach the laceration against her hairline. She was unbelievably warm, and entirely beautiful. It made Nancy’s stomach roll, something she attributed to the adrenaline.

Robin swallowed hard, turned her face away. She repeated, quieter this time. “You don’t even know me.”

“Give me a chance.” Nancy urged, placing a bandage carefully on something that was certain to scar. “Let me in, let me get to know you.”

She meant it genuinely. Robin was interesting, and she was wounded, and Nancy swelled with the need to learn everything about her. She shouldn’t have turned a blind eye, it shouldn’t’ have come to this before she gave in and peeled the girl from the sidewalk.

“You kind of owe it to me,” Nancy smirked, bumping the girls shoulder softly with her own “Being your knight and shining armor and everything.”

“Oh, come on, I could have handled it.” She smiled.

“Right, right, totally. I believe you.”

The two of them laughed, Robin’s hand pressing into her ribs, she flinched. “Oh, ouch.”

Nancy felt worry course though her, squeezing Robin’s knee. There was a need to protect her, a stranger that she wanted so desperately to know.  “I’ll go get some ice. And dinner. Dinner is a must.”

“You really don’t have to do that.” Robin said.

“Oh, I know, but I want to.” She lingered by the stairs, eyes soft with emotion. “I might not know you, Robin, but I know that you deserve kindness.”

[fruitcoops]

May It Never Leave You

Fic O'Ween Day 11: Monster--or, What You Have, What You Hate (Logan's Version). Everyone's favorite dead horse is back, babey. Kudos to @noots-fic-fests for their hard work and @lumosinlove for these characters (and an outstanding Vaincre update today) .

TW memory loss, hospitals

Sunlight yawned over the horizon. Logan ticked another day in his head. 52 hours. Nearly a new record. The last time he didn’t sleep for two days, he and Finn had just finished playing Yale.

At least the apartment smelled better than their dorm had. Leave it to Leo and Finn’s monthly Target dates to find the best candles.

His head hurt. His chest hurt. Even his fucking eyes hurt, like he had kept them open after diving into the lake. It was a miserable way to feel in an otherwise perfect place—but then again, very little had been perfect recently.

Leo stirred in the curve of his body, not much more than a twitch. He hadn’t been sleeping well, either. Finn was the only one able to keep his eyes closed for longer than an hour (if that) and even he was quiet during the day. Dawn caught their phone screens as it filtered through the sliver of the blinds, all lined up on the nightstand with ringers turned to the highest setting. Just in case.

Logan blinked hard and pressed back into Finn. He needed to feel something solid; needed to feel Finn shift, his arm tightening around Logan’s waist. Something between his lungs throbbed with blunt pain.

“We should visit today.”

Leo’s voice was dull and coarse. Logan nodded into the nape of his neck.

“I want—” He broke off with an audible swallow. “I want to check on him.”

Sirius had woken for nearly twenty minutes the day before. James had been there, and Remus, of course. Logan wasn’t sure they had left yet. Remus certainly hadn’t looked like it. But their excitement was momentary at best when Sirius’ sleepy greetings turned incoherent, and he slipped back under for the rest of the day. Logan shook the whole way home.

“D’accord,” he murmured, tucking his knees into the hollow of Leo’s own. His belly was tense under Logan’s palm; he rubbed slow circles over it and kissed the curve of Leo’s neck. “We’ll go.”

Finn’s alarm went off at eight. They let it ring itself out. Nine minutes passed and it went again, a cheerful jangle that faded into silence. Slender fingers curled up against Logan’s collarbone. Finn’s cheek was flat on his shoulder blade, shaky breaths passing warm air over his skin. He let go for less than a minute. The alarm didn’t ring again.

Leo had the courage to check his email at nine and Logan half-read it over his shoulder, little blue dots disappearing unread into “[Gmail] Trash” under a thumb with the nail chewed down to the quick. He kissed the little-dipper trail of faint freckles up Leo’s shoulder and nudged at his wrist until he set the phone down with a tired smile and allowed Logan to coax him onto his belly, shifting closer. His cheek was pillow-creased when he turned. They looked at each other for a few seconds before Logan passed his thumbpad along Leo’s cheekbone, and blue eyes fell shut.

They didn’t get out of bed until ten o’clock. Breakfast was a quiet affair despite the radio and the sizzle of the stove. “Someone should text Remus,” Leo said as he passed eggs to Logan to crack. “See if he needs anything.”

Logan fought a wince. Sleep. Therapy. For someone to physically remove him from that place. According to James, they had only just managed to make him take a walk around the upper floor of the hospital. He’d been sleeping in a chair. Logan hadn’t pressed for more information, and the guilt gnawed at his ribs. “We can bring…sandwiches. Or something. Maybe books? A change of clothes?”

“Toothbrush,” Leo suggested, prodding at the scrambled eggs. “That might be nice.”

Logan carefully sliced another section of the green onion before speaking. “James brought his toothbrush. And a hoodie, I think. I can ask what they need.”

“Are they letting him stay?”

“Loops?”

“James.”

“Non, only immediate family.”

“I’m so glad they got married.”

Logan turned and saw Leo do the same. Finn was rinsing his fingertips under the faucet, but nothing in his face told Logan he was paying any attention to it. The purple under his eyes was nearly mauve in this light. “Me, too,” Leo said softly.

“Just—can you imagine?” Finn cleared his throat, shutting the water off. “I mean, Loops would be losing it. Immediate family. I wonder if they’d call…y’know.”

Logan wasn’t going to think about that. He had been trying very, very hard not to think about that for nearly three days, now. None of them needed monsters under the bed when the real thing was bad enough on its own.

“Well, they didn’t,” Logan said briskly. The handle of the knife dug into his hand; he forced it into steadiness and moved the next handful of onion over. At the stove, Leo’s shoulders were tight up near his ears. “And we’ll go see him, and it’ll be fine.”

Sirius?

Hmm-mmm.

Buddy, can you hear me? It’s James.

Bonjour.

Tremz, call the nurse in real quick—hey, keep your eyes open. How are you feeling?

Mmm. Bon. Head hurts. Remus?

I’m here, I’m right here.

Tiny green shreds sprinkled onto their eggs, bright and clean. A ‘thanks, cher’ painted onto his temple by a kiss.

Alright, Mr. Black, let’s take a look at that forehead.

Non.

Is it hurting?

Game day. Pick up Reg from practice.

Mr. Black, please try to stay awake.

Baby, just listen—

Gotta pick him up. Reg’s practice.

“You want bacon?”

Logan blinked down at the plates. It all looked beautiful, like his mother’s wax fruit in the living room back home. “Sounds great.” He kissed Leo’s shoulder and dusted the last bit of green onion onto Finn’s portion. “Merci. I’ll get forks.”

A little shiver ran through Leo. He tucked his arms across his body, as if the apartment wasn’t set to seventy-five degrees year-round, but smiled down at Logan all the same. “Thanks.”

“Are you cold?”

“Nah, not really.”

Footsteps padded over and then Finn was there, tugging his sweatshirt off and slipping it over Leo’s head. If nothing else, it got a laugh out of him. Weak—but there. Finn’s glasses sat sideways on his face and Logan poked them back into place with a gentle swipe down the razor-straight bridge of his nose. “I made cocoa,” he said, raspier than Logan was accustomed to this late in the morning. “I’m not really—it’s not a coffee morning, I guess, but if you want some I can—”

His mouth fell quiet against the inside of Leo’s shoulder, muffled by his own hoodie. Logan saw his chest lurch in Leo’s tight hold. He felt a little dumb attempting to wrap his arms around them both and cursed his proportions for the hundredth time, but neither seemed to mind. Leo was still trembling just slightly. Finn was board-stiff; his hand came up and twisted in the pocket of Logan’s pajama pants to draw him close.

It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, and Logan was trying so hard to be angry.

Leo gave a light cough. “I’m really fucking scared.”

That first night, Logan had fallen asleep praying he would wake in his bed in Rimouski, buried under the heavy blue duvet he had stolen from Aubrey when she redecorated her room on her 13th birthday. It was old and soft and safe and lightly scented with the lavender soap their grandmother mailed from Nice every month. But his stomach had rioted at the thought of waking alone, the last ten years a dream. As horrible as this was, as sick as he felt, God would have to pry this from his cold dead hands before he gave it up. He wished he knew how to tell them that.

Finn was hot at the nape when Logan leaned against him. “We’ll eat,” he suggested, tracing a loose heart over Leo’s mid-back. “Breakfast looks amazing. We’ll shower. I’ll call James. They’re not going anywhere.”

“…I don’t want to get my hair wet,” Finn said quietly.

“I want to take a bath,” Leo murmured into the top of his head. “You can come with me.”

Finn nodded, then swallowed hard. “I don’t want him to wake up alone.”

“He won’t,” Logan said. When Finn didn’t show a sign of hearing him, he nibbled at the curve of his shoulder; a smile twitched his lips. “Hey. Hey. He’s got half the team there already. We’ll bring sandwiches and be popular, d’accord?”

“You need to be muzzled.”

“That sounds fun.”

Finn snorted, pushing at him without taking his face from the sanctuary of Leo’s chest. “Get outta here.”

“Come eat before the food gets cold.” Disregard that nothing sounded worse than eating right now. They had bigger things to worry about, and none of it would be made better on an empty stomach. But maybe, maybe they’d have a kinder day. And maybe Sirius would wake up for real this time. They just had to take it in stages, one baby step at a time.

One. Leo and Finn took a bath.

Two. Logan scrubbed the breakfast dishes.

Three. He tucked Leo close and tight to himself while they put the lunch order in on the couch.

Four. His kiss to Finn’s cheek lingered before his hand came anywhere close to the passenger side door.

Five. Remus was on the floor.

Sirius’ door was closed, and Remus was on the floor.

Logan pushed the takeout bag into Olli’s hands and broke into a run.

“What happened?” His knees smarted on contact with the tiles. Dumo was slackjawed and Remus was fucking white. “Loops? Is he okay? Did something go wrong?”

He’s gone, he’s gone, we lost him.

Someone was speaking, Leo was speaking, Remus was staring into the void like the world had fallen out from under him. His arm was loose and weak under Logan’s hand; he eased his grip and watched Remus’ throat bob. A breathless gasp broke from him before any words. “He doesn’t love me anymore.”

“No, Remus, that’s not…” Dumo looked exhausted. Sounded exhausted. Logan could feel himself beginning to shake, deep in his core where the fear snapped and burned. Deep brown eyes slid over the group before fixing Logan to the scrap of a planet beneath him. “Sirius is alright,” Dumo said firmly. “He’s awake and Pots is with him right now.”

Then why are we all on the fucking floor? he wanted to shout. The burning raced up Logan’s throat and into his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

For all that Logan’s terror blinded him, Dumo didn’t look well, either. “We don’t know the full story, but—”

Nonsense bumbled from Remus’ mouth. His eyes had slipped to the pale tile, pupils dilated, a hundred years away. An exhale rattled in him like a sob chained down. “Five percent. They told me five percent.”

Logan swayed. A hand steadied him when he sat back. Dumo hadtold him about the five percent. Five percent had been hooked in the back of his mind for 60 hours and shaken him from half-waking dreams. But five percent was nothing—was practically zero. Five percent was a liability figure told to prevent a lawsuit, nothing more.

Remus was lifted to his feet, barely, and Logan watched him sit hard in one of the stiff chairs. No tears striped his ashen face. Beside him, Dumo was blinking fast. Olli passed him a napkin from the paper bag Logan had picked up not fifteen minutes ago from the place Remus liked because they had soft-serve ice cream. The place Sirius liked because Remus liked it.

He wasn’t sure if he could get up, now. It seemed he had left his knees at the cashier’s counter by mistake.

“Lo.”

A funny noise escaped him at pressure on his back.

“Lo, baby, come up with me. Come on.”

Thomas was holding Remus around the shoulders. His mouth turned down at the sides while they spoke in low voices.

Logan couldn’t help himself. “Did we lose him?”

“No,” Finn said immediately, voice dropping hoarse. “God, Logan, no, we didn’t lose him.”

“Five percent chance of severe memory loss.” That first night had been so long and so hard. He had stammered his way through a call with his father, though he couldn’t remember a word they exchanged. He knew he had stayed plastered to Dumo’s side for hours while Sirius went through scan after scan, fast asleep. Finn let him push close, let him pretend he could hide in the hollow of his arm. “We lost him.”

It was audacious to claim any part of his pain alongside whatever Sirius must be feeling—whatever Remus must be feeling. Logan couldn’t help it. The chasm of his belly beat not fair! into his guts. Sirius had done nothing wrong. He didn’t deserve five percent.

“I want to go back to bed,” he mumbled.

Finn’s hand rubbed along his back. “Okay. We can do that. We’ll get up, we’ll go home—”

“I want to wake up right now.”

“Oh. Oh, Lo…”

“This is not supposed to happen.” Tears clumped on his lashes. He refused to let them fall. He had no right. “This is not. He has to be okay.”

“Pots is with him.” Finn brought him close, and shame burbled up at the way Logan clutched him all too tight. They shouldn’t be doing this with Remus right there. “Cap’s got a lot of good people looking out for him right now. Nobody better. And I have you, and we’ve got Knutty, and we’re just going to take a minute for everyone to calm down.”

Finn was using his storybook voice. Hills and valleys, nearly singsong. It set some part of Logan’s brain mute with old comfort. “I need—I need to help.” His throat scraped when he breathed. “I need to get up or I’m going to stay here for a really long time.”

“I know.” Of course he did. Finn always knew what Logan wanted before Logan did. Drinks, food, kisses. This. He was already braced against Logan to boost him up, for Christ’s sake.

If Logan gave him double that love in return, it still wouldn’t be enough. Not for Finn, who deserved all and more. He wanted to pack him up in softness and seal it with a kiss, keep him somewhere safe and kind forever. They stood together—only a little wobble before he righted himself. Leo had pushed a sandwich into Thomas’ hands and was trying to shepherd the others into it as well. He didn’t like the tension creeping up the back of Leo’s neck.

Remus was still staring at the door as if he’d seen a ghost. Logan didn’t want to go in there. He caused damage. He was shit at fixing it.

He really wanted to be angry at this.

“Please eat.” Leo’s voice was tight and pitched at the start, forced into his measured baritone. His nailbed was white where it pressed into thin wax paper; Logan made a silent note to get him some water from the fountain down the hall.

“Hmm?” Dumo blinked a few times, then startled, as if he hadn’t seen Leo there. His gaze slid from Leo’s face to the sandwich, and he took it with a wan smile. “Ah. Merci.”

He picked at the sticker sealing it, but that was all. Logan had spent too much time around the man day in and day out to be fooled into thinking he was anywhere on this plane right now. Distant eyes and tight wrists. A rigid back, like when they thought Marc broke a rib at hockey practice. Logan wondered if Remus could hear his mind whirring from the adjacent chair.

“Loops.”

Thick gray sleeves sheltered his mouth from view.

“Remus.”

Without the vibrant red letters, the lack of color washed him out. Thomas’ deep blue shirt was harsh next to Remus’ grayscale.

“Re,” Thomas tried again, nudging him ever so gently. Remus made a faint noise. “Hey, you want a sandwich?”

“Not hungry.”

Leo’s brows pitched in the middle—Logan wanted to smooth it away, to kiss it into the ether. Distress was a difficult thing to watch on Leo’s round face. “You need to eat,” Thomas said. He took the proffered sandwich with a quick squeeze of Leo’s forearm, and slid it into the space between Remus’ thighs and body. “Whenever you’re ready, just…we’re here.”

“You should go,” Remus murmured into his forearms.

“No.”

“He’s awake. Not much to do now.”

“No.”

“I don’t—” His voice caught and Logan felt his stomach plummet. Not now, not now. “There’s not a lot to do here. The nurses’ll take care of him.”

“We’re here to take care of you, too,” Thomas said quietly.

Remus closed his eyes.

“Ouais,” Logan managed. Finn’s arm pulsed around his waist; he cleared his throat, willing the clamminess from his palms. “Both of you—yeah, whatever you need.”

It had been such a fucking fight during those first terrible hours. Nearly midnight, and still no answers. Adrenaline and exhaustion, scraps of illness battling with the raging fire inside him while every door slammed in his face with a no, no, family only, I’m sorry. Watching them roll Sirius to a scan room. Leaving Remus and his shaky, feeble smile under the scathing fluorescents. Come back tomorrow. I’m sure someone will call you with an update. It didn’t matter that Sirius would have wanted him there.

Well—that was debatable. Sirius probably would have preferred to pass out in some quiet, dark corner and pick himself up without anyone knowing. But Logan had never let him do that before, and he wasn’t about to start now. Goddamn martyr. If it wasn’t for Leo’s quaking grip on his hand, he would have bulldozed past every too-bright white coat in the place and planted himself at Sirius’ bedside just like Remus had been allowed to. He was always there for Sirius. It wasn’t fair to keep him away because of a silly thing like blood relation.

Leo tucked his phone into his back pocket. “Visiting hours start in twenty minutes.”

A silent request filled with bare-rock hope. Logan took the empty chair and cupped his hand over the back of Leo’s. “I’d like to see him,” he offered. He hoped his meaning came through—I’m here. I love you. I’m here because I love you.

The hand beneath his own turned over and twined their fingers, pale and straight against his own fucked-up knuckles. His hands looked so blunt when they were together. Let alone when Finn, all willowy strength, toyed with his fingers. It was like comparing a sledgehammer to a harpist.

Twenty minutes was a long time to ask Finn to sit still. He may have been more staid than usual, but that didn’t stop him from popping up and down no less than four times for water, trash runs, and to check in with the nurses.

More than once, it was clear he was moving just to move. Logan couldn’t blame him. He needed stillness and silence to process, but the flowing magnitude of Finn’s heart wasn’t meant to sit quietly. He had always hated that part of his concussions the most: more than being benched, more than fear, more than the blinding pain Logan had dampened with his shirtsleeve too many times. If his body couldn’t move, his brain had to, and he was denied both in those dark rooms. Logan had always done his best to ease the strain in whatever way he could. He’d pour himself to drought if it would cool the fire under Finn’s skin.

“Lo?”

Leo had scooted closer on his chair, mere inches from sitting in Logan’s lap. He wouldn’t mind that. Closeness sounded good right now. Logan smoothed the ladder of his knuckles. “Quoi?”

“I…” Leo broke off with a slow exhale through his nose. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Was he looking for a lie? The truth? Was he looking for don’t worry, I know what I’m doing or I keep thinking I’ll blink and find Sydney in there with her appendix gone? Logan figured he had fumbled pretty hard this morning. I’m really fucking scared. He still didn’t know how to respond to that. Maybe this could be his second chance. Leo was so good at giving those.

He shifted over and let Leo lay his head on his shoulder, resting his own against golden chick-fluff curls. Words rolled between his teeth and over his tongue for a long moment. “I don’t either,” he said haltingly. Finn probably would have sounded more confident. “This is new. C’est horrible. I’m—this is horrible. It’s so horrible.”

Remus and Thomas were making their way down the hallway to the lobby. Something about a phone call, Logan thought. To Lily, or Remus’ parents. It was just good to see them standing. Leo sniffled.

He ducked his head and let his lips rest against Leo’s forehead, right under the tuft of gray hair he twirled around his finger on long nights when sleep escaped them both. “We’re here, though. That counts for something. He’ll be glad to see us.”

“He pushed Loops.”

“…what?”

“He pushed Loops,” Leo repeated. “ ‘S what Dumo was saying to Finn when you got us water. Cap woke up, freaked out, and pushed Loops.”

“Oh.”

“I keep—I mean, what if—” Leo groaned softly and sat up, scrubbing at his eyes. “God, I’m just turning it over and over in my head. I don’t want him to yell at me. Which is so fucking selfish.”

“When has Cap ever yelled at you?”

“It’s not Cap, though, that’s the problem.”

Logan tried not to flinch.

Leo shook his head. “I want to see him. I really need to, just so I stop thinking about it.”

The large clock on the wall ticked through another minute. They were technically allowed to go in now. Logan wasn’t sure his stomach could handle it just yet. Finn’s foot tapped restlessly ten paces from them while he read one of the dozens of bulletin boards, hands clasped behind his neck. “I wasn’t there from the start.”

He felt Leo look at him. “What do you mean?”

“When Cap was a rookie.” He had heard stories. Seen pictures. It looked bad enough to make him grateful for Harvard, just for some distance in time. He watched Finn worry at the full curve of his lower lip. “But…you know, he was still pretty frozen over when I got here. It wasn’t until Loops that he opened up. Even when they weren’t out. There was only a few months you were here where he was quiet.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“You were new.” Logan shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. He was a lot of things, but he was never mean. Never yelled.” He glanced back at Leo and tried for a smile. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, soleil.”

“Excuse me?” They both turned at the sound of a new voice. Sneakers creaked on the waxed floors. A dark-haired woman smiled at them, flipping a page on her clipboard. “Dr. Manuel asked me to let you know that visiting hours will run from now until eight o’clock. No more than four people at a time, please.”

She seemed awfully calm. Logan wondered if she had been told about Sirius’ condition. Now that he thought about it, had any doctors come and gone since they arrived?

“Fantastic,” he said. A win was a win was a blessing in this mess. “Thank you.”

He could feel his hand shaking in Leo’s when they stood.

--

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. “We both lived with him. I’m—” This is wrong. “We’re close. You and me.”

Sirius studied him with a wariness that made Logan want to curl up under one of the hall chairs and never come out. His next breath would be pure smoke from the flaming wreckage of hope inside him, he was sure of it. “Parles-tu français?”

Stop talking like that, stop it, why do you sound like that? “Ouais.”

He looked small in the bed. How could he look so small? Where did he learn that, and how fast could Logan run to get away from it? “Tu t’appelles Logan? Un nom Quebecois?”

Leo’s hand must be hurting from how tight he gripped it. Do not let me go. Sirius had always teased him for his fantaisie bon français drilled into him by his grandmother in Nice but this was not right, not right, not right, from the way Sirius’ voice folded in around his words to the lower, softer timbre just barely letting them free. No, Logan thought, he didn’t like this at all. “Ouais. Je viens de Rimouski.”

“Ah. Montréal, pour moi.” His smile was tentative, almost apologetic. Three days ago, Logan had teased him for this very conversation.

“Je sais,” he managed.                                                                                            

A faint humming noise answered him. He had already seen Sirius’ eyes dart over the three of them, clever and quick even when he was concussed. A subtle jerk of the chin made his mouth parch. “Qui sont-ils?”

“Mes copains.”

Logan didn’t have words for the complicated expression that flitted across Sirius’ face. “Les deux?”

“Oui.” He tried for a wry smile, for anything that could quell the riot of too much inside him. “Tu les appelles Bambi et Fleur. Tu m’appelles Thumper, espèce de connard.”

And almost—almost—that got him a grin. It was almost—almost—enough to make up for the ice-water panic filling his lungs with each passing breath. He didn’t like the smell of this place. Remus’ backpack by the chair, where he had been using it as a pillow. The plastic cups that were never stiff enough for a patient to drink from on their own. His mother had helped Sydney drink for three hours after her surgery, while her hands were still too weak not to spill on herself. And when Finn—

“Rookie.”

Logan felt Leo slump into him with a shaky breath. “Yeah. Sorry. Yeah, that’s—you call me that.”

There was a whining in his ears. A mosquito, or a siren. The sheets were too crisp. They would make his hands itch. Leo’s hand slipped from his own as he wrapped them around himself and fuck it all sideways, Logan couldn’t even comfort his boyfriend properly. He wanted to put an arm around his waist. His shoulder refused to unlock.

Sirius’ gaze dragged over him before sliding to Finn, brighter than before. “He calls you names in French.”

Oh, you piece of shit, Logan thought with startling clarity. “Sirius!”

“It’s true.” Sirius had been stoic for the first part of Logan’s rookie year, fresh off the rush of a disappointing not quite in the second round of the playoffs for the second year in a row. Logan would never forget the relief of nights when Sirius visited the Dumais house, putting aside the professionalism for a dinner that was close enough to home to ease his aching. Sirius had never asked him about Finn, either, content with the simple knowledge that they used to play together at Harvard and still tore it up on the ice.

“Finn,” Finn was saying. “Or Harzy, doesn’t matter much.”

“So you’re on the team, too?”

Logan had needed that presence when he arrived. And the…separation. The wound had been too raw for him to survive someone asking about Finn without the excuse of not knowing what words to use. “All three,” he said now. Sirius smiled, just slightly. His heart gave an unsteady thud-thud-thud. “What, you thought you were the only gay NHL player?”

The smile vanished. Too much. It slammed into Logan like a rogue wave and he bit hard on the side of his tongue. Leo was apologizing now. Apologizing for him. He would never learn, never had. Either he never tried or he pushed so hard a chance shattered in his hands. He could see it on Sirius’ face, all that confusion and fear mixed in with abrupt, sincere concern when James stood with a touch to his shoulder.

A tear slipped down James’ nose when he brushed past them. The whining turned to muddled clangs. What could he even say? I’m not gay? That wouldn’t help. The conversation had moved on; Leo had moved on, leading him forward to the plastic chairs by the bedside.

If he sat, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get up fast enough when the feeling tiptoeing up behind him finally grabbed on. The world tipped a degree off its axis and he clenched the back of Leo’s chair in both hands. Remus’ backpack was a lonely black lump by the thin blanket someone had brought for him. Itchy. Everything in these places was itchy. It clung to Logan’s skin for days. He knew how it would feel to pillow his head with rough polyester. White caught his eye—a tag? Remus Lupin, #10, Varsity Hockey Harvard University.

Just a zipper. Tiny Nike logo.

Stitching on the front Tremblay #10—

A patch. Clumsy hand-sewn stitches reinforced on the equipment room machine by an exasperated Molly. Remus loved that backpack.

Sirius was looking straight at him. “Il y a des morceaux.”

How could pieces be all that was left of three and a half years?

A pale face blurred with freckles and Logan blinked rapidly to shake them away. Leo needed this. Leo needed him to keep it together. He could do this.

He moved one hand over, until his fingertips brushed Finn’s sweater.

“You and I run plays after practice sometimes, if I’ve been having a tough time of things,” Leo said. His voice was significantly steadier than before. It was working. Logan could do this. He could help. “I don’t think you and Harzy hang out a lot one-on-one, but Lo’s usually your go-to for video games ‘n shit. We have dinner sometimes with you and—”

The air went stale fast enough to make him choke on it. Finn shifted in his chair.

Genuine puzzlement creased Sirius’ face. “I cook?”

He couldn’t do this.

“I can’t do this.”

The door was a million miles away. He was gripping the handle in four steps. The dam was breaking, knocking the sight from his eyes. He braced both hands on cold cream paint, praying, praying that Remus was nowhere near.

Tears were a funny thing. He had never really figured out how to do them right—or at least, how to do them loudly, like when Noelle skinned her knee on the deck and screamed loud enough to make the neighbors come running. For Logan, it felt more like Leo’s beat-to-hell watering can, if the duct tape holding it together ever gave up. Everything kept in, and then everything rushing out at once. Breath and water and salt alike. Rarely noise, but he still pressed his elbow over his mouth and dug his hand into the frame of the bulletin board. Always, always, rawness to the marrow of his bones.

“Lo, oh my god.”

“I’m sorry.” A guttural sound died in his chest. “I tried.”

It was all he had. It would have to be enough. He just—he didn’t do head injuries. Broken fingers and busted ribs and jammed joints, fine, but he couldn’t fucking stand sitting and watching. There was only so much reading he could do. Only so many articles he could struggle through.

“Logan—”

“I’m sorry.”

Looking was a mistake. Finn’s face fell. “Hey, baby—”

“I’m sorry.” Logan sucked in a breath and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes to force the tears back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Lo…”

Finn’s hand brushed between his shoulder blades and he flinched, turning away. The tears were fighting him now—fighting him so hard it made his throat ache. He could feel his pulse behind his eyes and ground his teeth. “No, no, no, no.”

“It’s okay.” Finn’s voice had gone soft and unsure and Logan hated himself. “Baby, it’s okay.”

He shook his head. It was never okay. Not like this.

“It’s okay.” He felt Finn move closer, but he didn’t try to touch again. “He’s awake now. He’s making sense.”

A jagged sound punctured Logan’s lung. “It doesn’t.”

“No, I…” Finn faltered. “He’ll be okay, baby. Come on, come sit down.”

Logan’s stomach fell to the floor. “No.”

“Can you—please give me something to work with, Logan, this isn’t—”

“I can’t sit down,” he said thickly. The light blinded him when he tilted his head back for a few harsh breaths. He wanted to cover his face, but his hands shook too bad to be any use. “I can’t just wait here, I’ve done that, I can’t do it again, I won’t.”

He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t sit and wait, forbidden from crossing the threshold because he wasn’t family, even though nobody loved Finn like he did and nobody could take care of him like he could—

A shudder rattled through Logan and he sealed a palm over his mouth. The waves howled and clawed at every one of his hairline cracks.

“What’s going on?” Finn sounded sad. Not worry-sad, but different-sad. Confusion-and-guilt-sad.

Muck clogged Logan’s throat. He took a few hitching breaths to clear a path. “It’s Sirius,” he said. “And he’s hurt, and every time I fucking blink I see your face instead and I still can’t do a goddamn thing, Finn, I can’t…”

He leaned into Finn’s hovering hand and fell against his chest with a low noise, pulling at his arms until he was safe.

Finn was here in his sweater and his jeans and Logan was safe.

He couldn’t stop the hurricane. The throbbing and the drenching, out of control. He had let it run its course in Remus’ office, in his basement bedroom, and now here. With Finn. Finn who was safe and whole. Something ugly muffled itself in the broad chevrons across Finn’s neckline, but there was no flinch to meet him.

“Let it out.”

God, it hurt so bad.

“You’re doing great, baby.”

This wasn’t a cry-solution. This had to be a Heather-solution. Logan wasn’t looking forward to that.

Finn’s nose was cold where it dovetailed against Logan’s cheek. “Love you so much,” he whispered. “So, so much.”

The compression of his arms outstripped any weighted blanket by a landslide. Logan flattened his palm against the back of Finn’s neck. There was no energy left in him to keep down a whimper when he felt Finn stroke through the back of his hair and leave a kiss on his cheekbone.

“I’m—” Logan gulped down a fragile attempt at a breath. “I love—fuck shit—”

“Shh, shh, stop.”

“I tried.”

Finn’s gentle scritch to his nape silenced him. How long had they been swaying? Finn had a funny way of coaxing him into a dance before he even knew what was happening. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, voice breaking. “Jesus, Lo, I can’t even imagine.”

“It’s—it was Syd, and then it was you, and now it’s Sirius—” His breathing hitched on each name, as if unwilling to let him speak, but he was so tired of the silence. “—and what if I lost you, what if you forgot me, how could he forget us? Pieces, Finn, he said pieces.”

If he tried, he could probably stop. The duct tape could be slapped back on. Not perfectly, but he’d manage.

He didn’t really want to.

A gross, clogged sniffle made him feel a tiny bit better. “I’m always so fucking useless here.”

Finn was quiet for long enough that Logan could match their breathing. That, too, gentled the storm. The individual floor tiles were starting to reappear. “You helped me drink water for days,” Finn finally said. “You cooled me down. You slept next to me in a twin XL for—what, a week? You read every assignment, out loud, for two. You made Cap smile.” A sigh gusted over the back of his neck. “You’re not a doctor or anything, but I don’t think anyone can call you useless.”

“I can.”

“I’ve never been a fan of the way you talk to yourself, sweetheart.”

A problem for another day. “Leo?”

“They’re chilling. He’s just glad to be there, I think.”

Distance made him stress. Logan was familiar with the feeling. “You should go with him.”

“Hmm.”

“No, really. I’m feeling better.”

“Hmm.”

“Are you—are you okay?”

Finn took a big breath, let it go in an unsteady huff. “This is just…sad. And weird. And sad. I don’t know.”

Baby steps. One at a time. Finn was here and safe, Leo was right where he wanted to be, and Sirius wasn’t going anywhere fast. Let it out, Finn had said. God knew he was trying. He pried his hands off the back of Finn’s sweater and flexed them, pulled his elbows in until he could hold Finn’s waist. A three-count to lift his head, then a foiled attempt to dry his face before Finn got there. His sleeve took the salt and water before Logan could so much as raise a hand. Despite himself, he laughed.

“Let me take care of you,” Finn said through falsely-gritted teeth, planting an aggressive kiss to Logan’s forehead. He surveyed him for a few seconds, head tilted, before his lower lip slid out. “Aw, baby.”

“I know,” Logan said thickly. “Not everyone can be a pretty crier like Knutty.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Still.”

“I don’t love you because you’re a pretty crier.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not.”

“Yeah, dipshit, I know.” Finn cuffed the outside of his shoulder and Logan dipped his chin against a smile. “I’m aw, baby-ing because you’re sad and I wanna go take you home and wrap you in a blanket.”

Logan sighed. His head fell forward to bump Finn’s collarbone. “I feel like an asshole.”

“Why?”

“Left you all in there.”

“Not sure anyone can blame you.”

“I can.”

“You don’t count.”

“Is Sirius mad at me?”

“Honest to god—and this is really fucking morbid, so like, mea culpa—I don’t think Sirius remembers enough to be mad at us.”

Logan’s lip quavered. “I got him sick.”

“Everybody got sick. You don’t know that it was you.”

Lo’s usually your go-to. “I spend the most time with him.”

“…pretty sure that’s Loops, actually.”

“Okay, well—”

“You’re not winning this one,” Finn interrupted. “Literally everyone on the team was sick at some point, and we saw each other every single day. You want to point fingers? Blame coach for playing Cap’s line that long.”

It was so hard to come up with a defense when Finn was always right. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Here’s the plan.” Finn gave a little oof as he helped Logan straighten up and squished his shoulders. There was fine tension around his eyes and mouth that gave way when Logan ran his thumbs over it.  “I’m going back inside. You’re going to go find a bagel place for Dumo and Remus. I’ll text you when Knutty and I are done, we’ll figure out bagel dropoff, and then we’re going home and sleeping.” He must have seen Logan’s hesitation, because one auburn brow arched. “Cap’s awake. He’s not perfect, but he’s awake. There’s nothing else we can do.”

“I hate this.”

“Oh, yeah, this is terrible from every angle. Hence going home and sleeping.”

Logan nodded, then tipped his head toward the door. “Go see Le.”

Finn kissed him sweetly, a hand on his jaw, and obliged.

--

If Finn had been looking for a way to keep Logan occupied, tasking him with finding appropriate late-lunch/ early-dinner bagels was the way to do it. Gryff had dozens—half were closed by this hour, and the other half had to undergo rigorous inspection before Logan would even consider bringing them back to his Manhattan bagel hound of a boyfriend. Remus and Dumo would want coffee, too, even if they didn’t say it. Their respective husband and son was a previously-comatose amnesiac. He couldn’t bring them shitty coffee.

Finally, he found a promising option. Warm interior, short line, music quiet enough to tune out if he needed to. Display cases that were picked over (many customers), but not too empty (still some variety). A clean half-dozen should do.

The barista smiled when he approached the register, despite Logan’s certainly-red eyes and general crustiness. “Welcome in! What can I get started for you?”

“A half-dozen bagels, please. And two medium coffees, light cream, light sugar.”

“What kind of bagels?”

He hadn’t prepared for questions. Why hadn’t he prepared for questions? “Which ones are good?”

“What’s the occasion?”

“My—” Motherfucker. The tears snuck up on him, rushing to the front until he had to tip his head back with a frustrated breath. The barista’s hand hovered over the computer screen. Questions. He should have prepared for questions. There was a reason Finn always ordered for them. A strained, embarrassed smile was all he had to offer. “Desolé. My brother’s in the hospital.” His torso squeezed. “That’s the occasion.”

The barista seemed to freeze for a moment. “I’m…really sorry,” they finally said. “God. Wow. My bad.”

“It’s fine.” Logan shook his head. “Two plain, one sesame, one cheese, and two of the sandwich things, please.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” The barista started to turn, then faced him again, lowering their voice to soft concern. “Do you have someone with you? I just—my cousin was sick, and it was hard to be there alone. If you needed help.”

“He’s awake,” Logan assured them. The next person in line had stepped back a half-meter, looking pointedly at their phone. It was a kindness he hadn’t expected. He watched the barista wrap the two plain bagels before he felt he could trust his voice again. “He’ll be okay.” It felt funny to say aloud. Different than reassuring Leo or Finn. More confident. “We’ve got family around. Friends. We’ll be fine.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” they said with sincerity he hadn’t prepared for, either. Each bagel was carefully placed in a paper bag; a large sticker held the edge down. The sides were warm when Logan pulled it to himself, and the coffee steamed in two balanced cups.

“How much do I owe you?”

They waved him off. “Please, don’t worry about it. Just…have a good day. Be with your brother.”

He sighed through his nose. “You can’t stop me from tipping you.”

“Oh—”

He stuffed two twenties in the painted mason jar by the register and stepped back immediately, tossing a half-smile to the barista. “Have a nice afternoon.”

--

I need to go. I really need to do this.

Logan hadn’t fought him on it. He was tired of fighting. And not against Leo—never against Leo. Finn knew New York best; the safest winter roads, the quickest routes. Logan was content to play homemaker and listen to their back-and-forth. He simply fixed two sandwiches and a baggie of snacks for the ride while they talked it out on the couch.

The roads’ll be dark.

I can drive in the dark, it’s not a problem.

I topped off the tank yesterday, but you should refill outside the city if you need to. There are more when you’re out of Manhattan. They’re easier to get to.

Thanks, sweetheart.

You’re going to be okay? Finn’s voice had been tight with worry. Logan wasn’t sure it was entirely about Leo driving. You’re—you know, you should stay here for tonight, we can all go pick him up early tomorrow.

The sound of their soft kiss made the house warm. I won’t be sleeping, Leo had said. I’ll keep you both up. He’s been texting all day and I don’t want to make him get on a train right now.

Logan had managed to tempt him to the couch with a cup of tea and an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. Finn wasn’t far behind, and Leo dozed on his chest for the show’s second half. Thirty minutes could satisfy his worry if he stretched it. The adrenaline shakes had stopped an hour prior.

I don’t like this. Finn’s arms were tight around him while they watched Leo turn his headlights on and wave goodbye with a blown kiss. I don’t like this at all.

He’s a good driver.

I keep thinking…

I know. Did Logan ever. But it’s not us. So we’re here, and we’re helping.

Finn’s nose pushed into the crook of his neck; a deep breath made his stomach hurt.

We’re here, he had repeated, tangling a hand in the back of Finn’s hair. We’re safe. Je t’aime. I have a bagel place I want to show you in the morning.

--

“LoLo?”

“Hi.” Logan winced at the scratchiness of his own throat and glanced back down the hall, where Katie was just skipping back into Sirius’ room with Regulus in tow. “Hey, hi. What are you up to?”

“Um…folding my laundry, at the moment.” Silence fell over the phone. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. And you’re—you’re okay?”

“Wishing I didn’t have to do my laundry, but yes,” Sydney laughed.

His heart eased. “Bon. Good, okay.”

The sole of his shoe was starting to peel away from the toe. “What’s going on?” Sydney asked, quieter.

He shook his head before remembering she couldn’t see him. “Nothing, just wanted to talk.”

“Did something happen with Finn and Leo?”

“Non, we’re fine.” His stomach was shivery, like he’d gone too long without eating despite the sesame bagel lingering on his tongue. “Figured I’d call.”

“Black is still in the hospital, right?”

“Mhmm.”

“He’s awake?”

I remember you. Not everything, but I know you. “Up and talking. Making sense.”

Sydney hummed. He heard the light thump of a folded sock hitting her drawer. “He’ll be fine, petit. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“I miss you,” he said quickly, before his mouth could force it all back. “I just—I miss you and I wanted to call.”

“Aw, LoLo.” Her sigh crackled in the hospital’s sketchy wifi. “I miss you, too. Christmas feels far this year.”

“Ouais.”

“You want me to get the girls on FaceTime?”

As if he could handle that right now. All three of them, scattered across a continent instead of safe in a pillow fort. “Non, it’s alright. I might…call, or something. I don’t know.”

This was stupid. He shouldn’t have interrupted her evening. But he so desperately needed to hear her voice after catching a sideways glimpse of Sirius’ dark hair from the open door.

“Take your time,” Sydney said easily. “I’m here all night, doing nothing. Have you heard from Obbie lately?”

“No, why?”

“She’s doing some sort of award gallery thing. Sounded neat. I’ll text you the link.”

“D’accord.” He could see her when he closed his eyes. Two loose braids to her shoulders, their father’s sharp jaw. Practiced hands flipping socks around each other, deft from gloving pucks. She had always poked and prodded and teased him more than the other two—a function of their close years—but had never once flaked when he reached out. He wasn’t sure how to thank her for that. He cleared his throat and heard it echo back to him. “You’ll call me, right? If you need things.”

“What would I need?”

“Just. I don’t know. Things.”

Her laugh was light, fond. “Yes, LoLo, I’ll call if I need things. Check your messages for the link.”

“I will.” He started to lower the phone, then brought it back to his ear. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“Be safe.”

“I will.”

“See you at Christmas.” His lips felt shaky. “Or—whenever. If you’re around, or anything.”

“Goodbye, Logan,” she said slowly, though he could hear her smiling. “I’ll see you in two weeks. Take care. Give your boys my love.”

“I will.”

It was another five-count before either of them hung up.

[dlysthings]

I was wondering if you could write a one shot or drabble about in a hypothetical future where Daryl is back from France and him and reader are living together. She asks him to put on the blue sweater with the suspenders and he really doesn’t understand why. Once he puts it on, she goes feral. Smut if you’re comfortable but if not that is perfectly okay!

@marvelcasey05 i hope you like it. Im sorry i didnt include any snut but i have no idea how to graphically write this. Im going to work on that. Also i have no idea how to think of titles. Please help with that.

Why didn't you put this on sooner?

“Oh my God why didn’t you put this on sooner? Hm, baby? I forgot how good it looks on you.” You ran your hands over the blue clad stomach of the archer in front of you. Gliding your hands higher up his body you could feel the rapid pace of his heart beat in his chest and smoothly placing your hands over his broad shoulders and locking them there. Pulling him by the shoulders into a kiss he was quick to respond to, matching his movements with yours. Your lips together dancing in perfect harmony with each other’s after all the years you spent together.

A minute ago you had walked into your shared bedroom and saw the most beautiful view of all. Your husband, Daryl, wearing the same clothes he wore when the two of you were rescued by the group of French nuns. Even then seeing him in that blue sweater and suspenders made your mouth water and thighs clench with need. The moment you had a bit of privacy you pulled him inside an empty room, not being able to wait any more time with your soaking wet pussy empty. And that was one of the most heated quickies the two of you had ever had. For some reason the suspenders really did it for you. Maybe it was because you had never saw Daryl wear clothes in that style, but they looked like they were made for him.

The blue color of the sweater made his ocean blue eyes more visible and intense, looking like the water of the shore that you found yourself at that so time ago. And the suspenders made it even better giving him more of a fancy look, one that you never imagined to see Daryl in. But since you saw this look you could never seem to forget it. When you walked in your room and saw him standing there in front of the mirror with the worn down clothes, observing himself you couldn’t stop yourself from getting aroused. It’s not like you made it on purpose, the man just had this effect on you. And now that he wasn’t under so much pressure you could finally take proper care of your man.

Gliding your tongue over his sealed lips and pushing it inside his mouth you heard him groan into your mouth, his lips chafed, but soft. Both of his hands landed on your hips, squeezing gently the soft flesh there, the thumbs of his hands starting to slowly draw little circles. One of your hands moved from his shoulder to tangle into his brown locks. Heat blossomed in your chest as his hand moved over the expanse of your back and came to gently cup your jaw, bringing your face even closer. He could feel your shared breath between your bodies and the faint scent of lavender from your favorite shampoo. The smell always brought him calm and piece, maybe it was the smell or the fact it meant you were close to him. He supposed it was both, but surely it was the later. The kiss turned more passionate the more you brought your bodies together, at the end not an inch between your bodies. The heat became unbearable and both of you needed air, so you pulled away, but Daryl was fast to move his lips to your cheek, placing a few kisses there and trailing them down towards your jaw.

You moved your head to the side, giving him a better access to your neck, his next destination. The moment he attached his lips to the spot of warm skin under your ear and starting sucking you let out a breathy moan. Deciding he gave your sweet spot enough he moved down to your collarbone, peppering gentle kisses over it. When he retreated his head you used the moment to attach your lips to his again in a hungry kiss, but kissing wasn’t enough anymore. Moving down towards his neck, leaving a trail of swoopy kisses over it until you sank down to your knees, needing to take care of the obvious boner poking in his pants. Caressing his thighs over the fabric of his worn down pants you look up at him. His pupils are blown out with lust, the blue of his irises only a thin circle.

[redlegumes]

Dec 10th: Never Forgot My First Kiss

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles

prompt: First kiss/First time | AO3: link | wc: 853 | rating: M | cw: trans individual and partner discuss younger self with created dead name | tags: FTM Eddie Munson, 7 minutes in heaven, pre series first kiss - post series smut and cuddles, pillow talk

Summary: Reminiscing on first kisses after another first between Steve, Eddie, and their bedsheets

For the smut before this ficlet, check out my submission for today's Steddiemas prompt here

(づ￣ ³￣)づ

“It couldn't have been more awkward.”

“What? No. I thought my seven minutes in heaven with Elsie May Munson was one for the record books.”

“Maybe. The page on firsts and failures,” Eddie scoffed.

Steve rolled his eyes. “You were the one who couldn't relax. The second that bottle spun to you you sat up as stiff as a board.”

“I was still in shock that I'd been invited to Alexis's birthday at all! Lil ‘ol trailer trash me.”

“No one thought of you like that.” Steve huffed and brought Eddie in closer to his chest. It was warm under the covers with him. Safe. “You were just really quiet. A little timid.”

“Hah, yeah. Jeez. Blossomed right out of that.”

MATURE Continues after the cut

“Big time.” Steve blushed and twisted one of Eddie’s curls, a small smile on his lips. “If it makes it better for your ‘origin story,’ I'm pretty sure Alexis's mom invited everyone in the 5th grade. So it doesn’t necessarily prove she thought about your eleven year old reputation.”

“Oh thanks,” Eddie replied, sticking his tongue out.

“Anything for you babe.”

Eddie considered letting it drop, but teasing Steve was one of his favorite pastimes. “Still doesn't explain your fish lips in that closet. 7 minutes of mediocrity at best.”

“Hey! It was my first kiss.”

“Mine too!”

Eddie looked into Steve’s smiling eyes as their fake affronted expressions shifted into laughter at one another.

When the laughter eased, Steve traced Eddie’s collarbone with his finger tip. His voice was soft and low. “Y'know, I always knew. When Elsie moved back with her dad and then two years later her 'cousin,' Eddie, came to live permanently with his uncle.”

“Here I thought I had everyone fooled,” Eddie said, shifting lightly. It didn’t make him too uncomfortable to talk about the little person he’d been, at least not with Steve. “Loud, obnoxious Eddie? Literally everything Elsie wasn't. She was always looking for permission, whereas I ask for forgiveness.”

Steve glanced away. “I liked both.” Eddie raised an eyebrow and poked Steve in the cheek till he continued. Steve sighed, “Elsie always had her head in a book. The covers looked so exciting, but you know me and reading.” Eddie gave a small nod. “And that pretty, curly, dark hair always pushed back from her face.”

“Jesus Christ, I almost forgot the headbands.” Eddie chuckled and shook his head.

Steve’s hand wandered up to Eddie’s chin, his fingers rested along Eddie’s jaw. Steve’s gaze had grown heavy. “Never forgot my first kiss Eddie. Or that little scar right under your chin, or the shade of brown your eyes are. Just like chocolate.”

Eddie squirmed a little under the weight of Steve’s affection. Sometimes it was hard to be under that spotlight, even if it was just the two of them, holed up in Steve’s bedroom. “What took you so long to come after me then?”

Steve’s lips twisted a bit. “I was under the impression you didn't want to be found. Especially by me.”

“Yeah, I guess that's true.” Eddie's hand wandered over Steve's skin, still mostly under the covers, protected from the much chillier air around them. “Glad we cleared that up. Are you um… are you glad my first with a guy was you?”

Steve snorted. “I could say the same damn thing.”

“You know what I mean,” Eddie let his hand wander down and brushed the tip of Steve's cock. He adored the flash of surprise and want it created on Steve’s face.

Steve brought Eddie’s mischievous hand over his heart. “First kiss I'll treasure always. But first fucks?” He shrugged. “That can get a little slut shame-y, I guess?”

“Oh! Here's where that Harrington charm runs out,” Eddie laughed. He quickly turned his smile to a pout, batting his eyelashes. “Not the virginity thing or whatever it's supposed to mean, bases or notches. What I really meant to say was this first for ‘us.’ Like this, are you…” Eddie paused; he didn't feel like asking for reassurance, but it was what he wanted to hear. Luckily, that seemed to click for Steve.

“Eds!” Steve's eyes widened, and he ran a hand through Eddie's hair. “Yes, gorgeous. This was everything I… Eddie I already want you just, all the damn time. This was so good, you're fucking perfect.”

“Yeah?” Eddie smiled shyly. “Perfect? I thought I was the devil.”

“You are a devil.” Steve's face scrunched up with concern. “I thought you liked when I, wait. Are you messing with me?”

“No.” Their legs slotted together. Eddie pressed his cock against Steve's thigh, already wet. “Maybe a little.”

Steve snaked one arm around Eddie’s waist, holding him in place and began to tickle Eddie. He brushed the light stubble on his chin against Eddie's chest as Eddie struggled to get his hands to tickle Steve’s stomach. They eventually stopped for breath, and Steve relaxed into Eddie’s hold this time, nuzzling along Eddie's neck. “What if I said I wanted you to be my last first,” he whispered. It sounded like a secret. As if Eddie didn't feel the exact same way.

2023 RedLegumes Steddiemas 1 2 3 4 5 6 10 SteddieHolidayDrabbles 1 2 3 4 6 8 9 10

And...

they're not even dating!

JUST KIDDING

One hundred percent, Eddie's been parading around his sweetheart, acting like he converted Steve to every dark side for months.

[harringtons-cupid]

Could I be very cheeky and request a fic where Steve comforts the reader who's going through a rough patch with her work? Maybe reader has been overworking herself and she's super stressed and burned out and Steve comforts and reassures her? As fluffy or filthy as you so desire, this is purely me being self indulgent 😅 love your stuff, my dear, and I hope you're doing ok 💙💙💙

I loved writing this!! Hope you enjoyed!!

Masterlist | KOFI

You had been working non stop every day until your feet felt they could drop off and your brain ached. Going over to see Steve after long exhausting days, somewhat comforted you but you were still not well rested.

Today you finished your last long shift, your manager had allowed you to transfer over to short shifts. Giving you more time to spend with Steve.

After a relaxing bath, you slipped into your silk pyjamas and switched on your box television at the edge of your bed. Flicking through the channels until you found the film channel, just as the sound of shuffling outside your window made you look up.

Steve was on the other side of the window pane, signalling for you to let him in. Sighing, you rolled out of your comfy bed and quietly slide open the window. He leant forward and kissed you, making you smile and relax as he climbed into your room.

Shutting the window behind him, he followed you into your bed. Warm and cosy from where you had been sitting, you were in your pyjamas and pointed to a draw where you kept a spare pair for Steve.

The idea of getting into bed with your clothes that had been worn all day, made your skin crawl. Feeling better once Steve had changed into the matching checkered pyjamas, you made room for him in your bed.

Snuggling together as your television played another film into your room, his head on your shoulder as you tried to focus on it. It wasn’t long before Steve began to peck your skin with his lips, leaving soft kisses on your neck and collarbones.

Shivering at the sensation, you bit your lip as his mouth moved down your body. You relaxed into your pillow, allowing him to edge closer and closer to your breasts. Cupping them with his hands underneath the material, he brought them to his mouth and sucked onto them.

A loud moan escaped your mouth shocking both of you, he smirked and continued to suck until they were hard and throbbing. Tracing them across his fingers until he moved his hand underneath your trouser bottoms, following your skin with a groan.

He smiled as he felt that you weren’t wearing underwear, sliding closer towards your pussy which was already wet and throbbing. His fingers met your clit, it was hot against his cool fingers. Shuddering as he softly moved his fingers in circles, feeling it gore wetter to the touch.

Instantly relaxing against his chest, as your eyes tightened shut and you felt yourself unable to control your moans. He raised his hand upwards to spank your clit, causing you to jolt forward in shock. Another moan rippled across your body at the sudden change, not wanting him to stop.

The movie grew louder, muffling your moans as he kissed you. His fingers played with your folds and your hole, teasing it with one finger as he moved. Your clit throbbed against the palm of his hand, as he moved faster his hand hit your clit harder and harder until you felt your legs twitch.

“Oh my god, Steve” you wailed, jolting forward as you felt yourself cum over his fingers.

Sucking on your lip as you came down from the high of your orgasm, removing his fingers. He sucked them clean before you grabbed his face and kissed him. Moaning into his mouth, your hips bucking aggressively against the bed.

Pulling his body onto yours desperately, still holding his face as he dropped his trousers along with yours. You were still in the dreamy state after cumming, as his throbbing cock toyed with your hole.

His tip was leaking with precum as it pushed through your folds, your legs dropped open with ease. Allowing him, slide inside you with a groan.

As his tip hit your walls, your hands moved down his body. Scratching at every bit of skin as he slowly thrusted into you, your hands resting on his cheeks. Feeling him move, as his pelvic bone slammed into your clit.

Your feet firmly pressing into his back as your hips bucked in unison with his, gasping and panting into his ear as the sounds of your dripping wet pussy filled the room.

“Oh fuck baby, I have missed you. You deserve this, you deserve to relax” he moaned as his cock pulsated inside you.

He was right, you did deserve it and he was doing everything he could to make sure of it.

His hands moved away from your body, clasping around the side of your neck as he squeezed. Staring softly into your eyes, watching as your eyes rolled back.

Speeding up his thrusts as your moans turned into gasps and whines, he knew he wouldn’t last long with you like this.

“Stevie, you’re going to make me cum again” you whined underneath his firm grasp.

“Oh fuck, you going to cum on my cock?” He hummed, his eyes closed as he pounded into you.

The rhythm of your bodies made the bed squeak, neither of you cared about the noise as Steve edged you closer and closer to your second orgasm.

Unable to hold it any longer, you relaxed your body and came hard around his cock. Trickling down your thighs as Steve continued to fuck your throbbing pussy, squeezing hard onto your neck as his tip grinded against your soft spot.

“Baby, baby. Can I cum in you?” He panted, obviously very close to his own orgasm.

You nodded, making him open his eyes and look at you. Mumbling a “yes” as his cock spurted thick hot cum inside you, he stopped for a second. Releasing his hands from around your neck before thrusting softly inside you until his cock couldn’t handle anymore overstimulation.

Leaning over, he kissed your lips and forehead hard before rolling off you. Catching his breath beside you until you both grinned at each other. Resuming your previous positions, he held in his arms as the film was nearing the end.

Your pussy aching and leaking from his cum as your sweat combined with your hugs.

[uumeboshii]

wc: 787 

warnings: bl00d is the main theme, bl00dy kisses, making out and heavy petting. reader is gender neutral. lmk if i missed any!

denji didn't know what caused it. he had been sitting on the couch, waiting for you to get back with the snacks refilled and resume your little movie night date, and then it happened. warmth trickled down from his nose and onto his lips, smooth and without warning. he touched his nose, yelping when he felt the liquid pouring nonstop, staining his chin, his shirt, his fingers. 

you heard a small commotion on your way back, the room in between you and denji seeming shorter with the quick steps you took, still being careful not to drop the fresh popcorn and candy bars in your hands. then you saw him.

confused, looking at you with his blood-covered lips and hand, opening his mouth slightly to breathe, closing it right back when the blood passed his lips, grimacing. there was something about this that made you want to taste it, too. to kiss him while the blood dripped down and mixed into the kiss. maybe it was the stark contrast of denji’s pale skin and the dark, red blood, or the way he was leaning back, his weight supported by his arm with his muscles tensing up, the veins on his forearm prominent. 

putting the bowl away on the nearby chair, you ran to him. “ji, my god, are you okay?” you said, sitting down next to him. he nodded, mumbling something about being just fine and removed his hand out of his face, revealing the mess behind it. he had smeared the blood, mostly to the left. the blood was still flowing down, although not in the same quantity as before. you reached to grab one of the napkins you brought with you, suddenly stopping when a thought occurred to you. 

"denji, will you do something for me? now?" you said sweetly, putting the napkin aside. he nodded, eyebrows furrowing. "i want you to kiss me. can you kiss me? i had this... dream one time” this was a little white lie, but he didn’t have to know that seeing him bleed did it for you  “and it was just like this, it's fine if-"

a kiss. denji grabbed your face and pulled you closer to him, his bloody lips crashing with yours. your hands immediately went to him, finding support on his chest when the taste of blood entered you, head spinning with excitement. the kiss tasted like metal, and it was very wet, which made it feel so, so good. to you, at least. your teeth sank on denji’s bottom lip, tugging when you heard a shaky moan escape him. your boyfriend’s hands traveled south, brushing the sides of your chest, taking you in his arms to position you on his lap. placing your hand on denji’s neck, you pulled him closer to deepen the kiss. the tip of denji’s tongue poked out, begging you to let him feel yours. you allowed him in, the muscle instantly meeting yours, feeling each other. you pressed your chest to his, one of his hands squeezing your chest through your shirt as your hips rolled softly on his crotch. 

it was better than your dream. the taste was overwhelming, imprinted on his lips, his tongue; every time your lips moved against each other caused a wave of pleasure to come over you, leaving you eager, and very much needy. denji’s hand was under your shirt, continuing his motions. the coldness of his skin made you gasp, breaking the kiss. he took the opportunity to kiss your neck, biting down on the sensitive skin, leaving red traces as he bit, sucking soon-to-be purple bruises. your fingers hooked on his hair, pulling when he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone, a breathy moan leaving you, stopping when you felt a drop of something, falling down to your chest. “denji, wait”

“whaaat?” he grumbled, puling apart. on top of the smeared liquid, a new, fresh crimson mark was leaving a trail, crossing his lips, his chin. “i’m... really hard now, can we keep going? i- did i do something?!” he said, very worried, as his hands flew to craddle your face. he didn’t seem to notice his own blood dripping down his nose, again.

“i’m fine, it’s you! your nosebleed. it should’ve stopped, but you’re bleeding again! ji, my god” your eyes scanned the couch, finding the (now crumpled) napkin and grabbed it, dabbing the blood off of denji’s face. “hold this here, and tilt your head, look at the ceiling, i’ll bring more” you rushed off, jumping out of your boyfriend’s lap, and to the bathroom. 

“can we make out after?” you heard denji say with a newfound nasal voice.

sighing, you picked the toilet paper, and said

“yes”

i did have a dream about this! it was w a kpop idol lol

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter 3: We All Need Therapy

Season One | Season Two | Season Three | Season Four

Raining Hellfire: Season Four

Word Count: 3455 words

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, mentions of visions

[A/N: needed a steve moment, enjoy]

We All Need Therapy

You watch as Max walks into Ms. Kelley’s house, giving you a brief nod before the door shuts behind her.

“Okay, she’s in.” Steve announces and Dustin rolls his eyes.

“I’m missing collarbones, not eyes.” Dustin comments and you smirk, holding in your laugh.

“So…” Dustin starts after a moment of silence, and you turn to look at him as Steve’s eyes stay focused on the house.

Max had told you in her letters that he had become protective of her. You were grateful, knowing Steve looked out for her when you couldn’t. He may joke about being the babysitter, but he was a better role model to the kids than any of the males in their families had ever been.

“We gonna talk about it?”

You frown, noticing that he was looking to Steve who eventually glances back at him. “Huh? Sorry, talk about what?”

“Your temporary insanity earlier today when you basically threw yourself at Nance?”

You held your breath as Steve’s eyes widened, shifting his gaze between you and Dustin.

“Okay, look, that’s not what happened-” Steve tries, Dustin shaking his head at his answer.

“Pretty sure that’s what happened.” Dustin replies and you clear your throat.

“Do you guys want me to…” You gesture to the outside but Dustin continues.

“It was pretty public. There were a lot of witnesses.” Dustin says before leaning forward and tilting his head at you, “Even Y/n saw it, right?”

“Come on, dude, don’t drag her into this.” Steve sighs as you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“Y/n.” Dustin ignores him, staring at you and waiting for an answer.

“Uh…” You look to Steve, something buried in the bottom of your stomach, twisting, “Well… you did kind of… maybe…”

Steve widens his eyes, “You implying I still have a thing for Nance?”

“No, we’re not implying it.” Dustin argued, “We’re stating it.”

Steve rolls his eyes and you focus on the house, trying to zone out of the conversation.

“And, as it relates to your steadfast refusal to date Robin, it’s pretty much the only logical explanation.”

“That’s not the only one.” Steve mumbles.

You let out a snort of laughter, eyes widening when Dustin looks at you confused.

Robin had told you about her sexuality not long after the mall fire, quickly becoming relieved when you shared your own. If anything, it brought you closer knowing you could relate to eachother without judgement. She even told you about how Steve reacted and it made your heart happy to know he had learnt and grown from his past mistakes. He really wasn’t the boy he used to be in high school.

“Sorry.” You mutter, leaning with your arm rested against the window ledge, hand covering your mouth.

“Unless you two are a thing?” Dustin suddenly suggests and you both go silent.

Dustin’s eyes widen. “Oh. My. God.”

“Dustin-” You try but he’s already grinning.

“It’s perfect!” He smiles, patting you both on the shoulder as he shared his delight. “You know, I always thought Y/n and Eddie were a good match, but you two are literally so similar and different at the same time, why didn’t I think of it before? Best friends turned enemies turned best friends again, turned lovers- and how you both do the same thing when you’re annoyed like when you both pinch your noses or put your hands on your hips, you were made for-”

“Dustin!” You grab his face in both of your hands, frowning.

“I’m still with Suzie.” He mumbles, cheeks squished together and you release him with a sigh.

“And I’m happy for you. But Steve and I…”

“You got it wrong, buddy.” Steve says and you both catch eachother’s eyes, something unspoken laying between you.

“Damn.” Dustin, leant back in his seat, folding his arms. “Could still work.”

“And as for Nance,” Steve changes the subject, avoiding your eyes for clarity, “I was just trying to protect a friend. A friend, Henderson. Okay?”

“Okay.” Dustin said in disbelief.

“Don’t wanna find her in the morning with her eyes sucked out of her skull by this Vecna creep.”

“You’re bright red in the face right now.” Dustin comments and sure enough, you notice a little blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“No I’m not.” He shakes his head, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Oh-kay.” Dustin mocks and despite the situation, you giggle.

“Not you too.” Steve groans and you shrug.

“What? Do you usually just spontaneously turn into a beetroot?” You question mockingly.

Dustin laughs loudly as if it was the funniest joke he had ever heard and Steve gets frustrated.

“Stop, I’ll punch you so hard your teeth will fall back out.”

“Whoa.” You stop, shaking your head.

“Too far.” Dustin says and Steve nods sincerely.

“Not cool.” Steve agrees, eyes wide, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

There’s an awkward silence until they bump fists, making you roll your eyes with a smile. Their bond was truly unbreakable.

“Look, man. Why don’t you just, I don’t know, walk around?” Steve suggests and you raise your eyebrow.

“Why-” Dustin glances between you both before smirking, “Oh, I see. I see you.”

“No, that’s not it.” Steve warns as Dustin opens the car door, stepping out.

“Don’t worry.” Dustin nods knowingly, “I’ll give you two some space.”

“I-” Steve breathes out when Dustin shuts the door, walking just up ahead where he could get a better view of the house, never leaving your line of sight.

Now in the car with Steve alone, you both stare at the house in silence.

“How… how was Florida?” Steve suddenly asks, still staring at the house.

“Uh…” You frown, “Good.”

“Good.” He nods quickly.

“Good.” You nod back.

Another beat of silence, causing you to take a breath.

“How’s... work?”

“It’s…” Steve tightens his lips, still nodding, “It’s good.”

“Good.”

“Yeah, good.”

More silence. The awkward tension suddenly becomes too much for you both as you turn to eachother.

“Okay this is so stupid-”

“We shouldn’t be this awkward-”

You both sigh at the same time and end up bursting into laughter.

“I’m sorry.” You finally say after the laughter had died down. “I shouldn’t have just left without saying anything.”

Steve seems to think about his words for a minute before leaning back into his seat. “Why did you?”

You take a breath, “I hate goodbyes. And goodbyes always finalise things, you know? I- I didn’t want to say it because if I did then I would realise that I was never coming back-”

“You weren’t going to come back?” He frowns and you slowly shake your head, “Then… what made you come back?”

“… I-”

“If you say you had a bad feeling one more time I will scream.” He says, nodding, “And I’m terrible at it. Like my voice will crack and it’ll sound more like someone got a hold of a really hairy bird and started strangling it.”

“That was... vivid.” You laugh, but he stares at you, waiting for an answer. “But I don’t want to-”

“Robin called you, didn’t she?” Steve says with a knowing look and you sigh. “I knew it.”

“She was worried.” You defend, shifting in your seat to properly face him, “And she told me not to come.”

“I think she underestimated how selfless you are.”

His words were shrugged off by a mocking grin but the emotion felt the same. He was right, after all. But you would never see it that way.

“I’m not going back to Florida.” You suddenly say and his eyes widen, head shaking at you.

“What? No, you can’t give up on that just because of all this. You deserve-”

“I can’t go back.” You interrupt him, tilting your head as you stare down at the small dark red stain on your jumper sleeve, “That’s it for me.”

“Did you get expelled or something?” Steve shakes his head, confused.

You bite your tongue. “Basically, yeah.”

“Basically?”

“Carol goes there.” You sigh and he frowns for a moment before realisation hits.

“Carol Perkins?” Steve’s face twists with disgust and a smirk plays on your lips.

“The one and only.”

“Shit.” He stares out of the windscreen, memories clearly playing in his mind, “You shouldn’t let her ruin it for you.”

“Too late.” You shrug and he raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to elaborate. “She, uh… let’s just say she got a hold of something that is very bad for me. Not just reputation wise, I don’t care about that stuff, but… I’m not going back there anytime soon.”

“Therapy files?” Once your breath hitches, Steve’s theory becomes fact and he sighs, “Maybe you can, I don’t know, do an exchange thing or just move-”

“I didn’t get into any other colleges.” You say quietly, “That was my one shot.”

He’s silent for a moment before he offers you a smile. “Was it at least better than just good? Even for a while?”

“My head felt clearer than it had been in years.” You recall before glancing at him. “Still hated it, though.”

“Why?”

“You weren’t there.”

The words left your mouth before your brain ever caught up. But the reaction made it so much better. You watched as Steve smiles, a little red creeping onto his cheeks as he hums, looking away from you like he could expose his true emotions at any second.

“I half expected you to burst into Family Video some days.” Steve admits with a shaky laugh, “Make some joke about my hair, probably throw a video at me when I made fun of you. I love hanging out with Robin but something- something felt…”

“Missing.” You conclude and his brown eyes find yours again, nodding.

“You know…” He took a breath, staring back out of the window like he couldn’t bear to look at you as he confessed, “I almost ended up driving to Florida.”

Your heart jumps. “What?”

“When Max told us you had been writing her letters… I got mad. Started wondering why you didn’t do the same for the rest of us.”

The look on his face set free the guilt bubbling in your chest. You wanted nothing more than to beg for forgiveness, to tell him everything you’d been dying to say for the past eight months.

“I-” You try but he stops you. You wish he hadn’t.

“No, I get it. There’s more history there and… she gave me your address so I could write you one. But I didn’t think that was enough. Like, I can’t just sum everything up in a single letter, you know? So one day, without even thinking, I packed my car with some things I’d need and was ready to start driving.”

You stay silent, every spotlight on Steve.

“Robin figured it out before I could do anything. Literally jumped in front of my car to stop me.” He explains with a sad laugh, “She told me not to go.”

You nod, eyes misting. All your phone calls to Robin really must have stuck with her, all your rambles about feeling like you could truly start again.

“Said I’d only make it harder for you.” Steve continues, tilting his head at you with apologetic eyes, “That was the last thing I ever wanted.”

“Steve.”

“You deserve a life away from here, Y/n.” He shakes his head, wanting to speak. “You owe us nothing, okay? I know you constantly blame yourself for everything happening here but none of it is your fault.”

“It is.” You whisper.

His face drops. “No, it’s not.”

“Steve-” You try, but he’s too focused on helping you now.

“You couldn’t have-”

“Steve!”

“Sorry.” He mumbles, nodding for you to continue. You sigh, slumping back into your seat. It was time to tell the truth.

“I ran away because I thought it would keep you all safe.”

Steve frowns in confusion.

“Those visions I told you about?” You ask and he nods, brows still furrowed. “I didn’t tell you the whole truth about them.”

He shakes his head. “What…”

Unable to conjure any questions, he just looks at you.

“There’s this… figure.” You begin, staring out onto the road, “It’s always there, always speaking to me. Always telling me things that I shouldn’t know yet. At first, it was just trying to scare me, get into my head. I thought I was just going crazy. But recently, last year… it told me that everyone I love, will die. And I didn’t- I didn’t want to believe it had that kind of power but- but then Barb… Billy… Jack- it, it all links.”

“It doesn’t make- why you?”

“It won’t tell me.” Your voice is so quiet you were sure Steve wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t now leaning close to you, “I saw it again today. Or him. Or whatever. I didn’t have any visions of it while I was in Florida but as soon as I got back here- it wants something from me. I just don’t know what that is.”

“We’ll stop it.” Steve nods, taking your hand in his. “Okay, we’ll- we’ll find out what the hell it is and get rid of it after this whole Vecna thing-”

“But Steve,” You frown, shaking your head, “I think it is-”

“Hey guys!” Dustin calls out, running to the car, and you move away from Steve, wiping your tears and pretending like everything was fine. “She’s back.”

“Here she comes.” Steve says and Dustin just stops, staring at him.

“Just said that.” He mutters, sliding into the car just as Max joins him in the back.

“What’d she say?” Dustin wonders and Max shakes her head.

“Nothing, just drive.”

You frown as Steve speeds away from the house. You knew when your sister was lying. And judging by how she was purposely avoiding your eyes, you knew it had to do with Starcourt.

“I assume you got the keys.” You ask and she holds them up with a small smile. The guys looked startled. “That’s my girl.”

She smirks at your comment, shoving the keys into her pocket.

“How did you-” Dustin looked between you two, “Actually I don’t wanna know. I’m too scared of the Mayfield sisters.”

During the drive, Steve risks glances to you, still thinking about your interrupted conversation.

“Dustin? It’s Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin?”

You frown as Lucas’ voice blares into the car, looking back at Max and Dustin as they point to the bag by your feet. Dustin’s bag.

You pick up the radio, holding it to your lips when they nod at you.

“Lucas?” You ask, looking out ahead at the road.

“Y/n? Wait- when were you- what are you-”

Dustin groans, reaching over and snatching it out of your hand before speaking. “Lucas, where the hell have you been?”

“Just listen. Are you guys looking for Eddie?”

“Yeah, we found him. No thanks to you.” Dustin complains and you pinch the bridge of your nose before recognising your action, staring at your hand before resting it on your lap. You catch Steve’s smirk out of the corner of your eye.

“You found him?” Lucas sounds worried, making you straighten in your seat.

“A boathouse on Coal Mill Road.” Dustin relays, rolling his eyes. “Don’t worry, he’s safe.”

“You guys know he killed Chrissy, right?”

You instantly reach behind you and grab the radio.

“That’s complete bullshit!” You say and Dustin nods furiously, “He tried to save her, he just didn’t get to her in time.”

Steve frowns, looking at you. How did you know that?

“Then why do all the cops say he did it?”

“Because cops will believe whatever shit makes their jobs easier.” You say with a little more spite than you meant, history flashing in front of your eyes. In your experience, they never listened. Only Hopper did and now that he’s gone, you all were the last hope Eddie had to have his name cleared.

Max suddenly reaches her hand out and you place the radio in her palm.

“Lucas, you’re so behind it’s ridiculous, okay? Just meet us at the school. We’ll explain later.”

“I… I can’t. I think some real bad shit’s about to go down.”

“What are you talking about?” Max asks, looking at you, “What bad shit? Lucas? Lucas?”

Lucas never replied and you held your breath.

“The basketball team.” You frown and Steve looks at you.

“What about them?”

“I ran into one of them.” You remember, “They knew my name, asked me where Eddie was.”

“They knew you?” Max frowned and you nod slowly.

“Yeah, freaked me out too but I think the team’s taken Chrissy’s death pretty personal.”

“Jason.” Max says, “They were dating.”

“Hunt down the freak.” Dustin realises with a sigh and you purse your lips.

Leaning against the window, you watch the trees that past by, eyebrows scrunched. With all that you’ve faced, you never quite realised how dangerous people were. Especially when they are driven by one simple yet powerful force.

Revenge.

Once you arrive at the school, you waste no time climbing out of the car and striding into the building.

“Y/n, guys, do you copy?” Robin’s voice spits out of the radio in your hand.

“Yeah, we copy.”

“So, Nancy’s a genius. Vecna’s first victims date back all the way to 1959. Her shot in the dark was a bullseye.”

“Knew it would be.” You say, turning the corner to the hallway as the others guided with flashlights. “But we can’t really talk right now, Robs.”

“What are you doing?”

“Oh you know, the usual. Breaking and entering the school to steal some things.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, I just missed high school that much.” You sigh as you find the office, “Just get here as fast as you can and we’ll explain everything.”

You hand the radio back to Dustin as Max unlocks the door, swinging it open and pointing her flashlight into the room.

“This feels wrong.” You whisper, making your way over to filing cabinets.

“Yeah, we shouldn’t be here to steal therapy files.” Steve mutters and you look at him intrigued, “We should be the ones in therapy.”

“It’s like a mini-Watergate or something.” Dustin mumbles to himself.

You raise an eyebrow, choosing to ignore him as you and Max search for Chrissy’s name.

“Hawkinsgate.” Dustin says and you smirk.

“Didn’t those guys get caught?” Steve whispers.

“Holy shit.” Max breathes just as you both stare down at the files.

“You find it?” Steve wonders, peering over your shoulder as you pull out a file, Max grabbing a different one.

“Yeah, and not just Chrissy’s file.” She says, looking at the brown paper in your hand.

“Fred was seeing Ms. Kelley too.” You announce, dropping the file onto the desk.

“So… Ms. Kelley is Vecna?” Steve asked and everyone just stares at him.

“It’s a good theory.” You try, smiling slightly, “But probably too easy.”

Max sits at the desk, shuffling around papers as she reads Chrissy’s report.

“Why does it always have to be complicated?” Steve sighs and you raise your eyebrows. “Like… can’t villains just be dumb?”

“Only the human ones.” You retort and Steve laughs.

“Can I see Fred’s file?” Max suddenly asks and you frown, plucking it from Steve’s hands and placing it in front of her.

“Why, what did you find?”

She doesn’t reply, just staring down at the pages she had ordered side by side and you peer over her head, reading key parts that appeared on both sheets.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you see their photos clipped to the pages. You really were walking through memories earlier in those woods.

“What?” Steve looks between the both of you with a worried frown, “What’s wrong?”

“Why would anything be wrong?” You ask numbly, still staring at the page.

“Cause you’re both wearing the same terrified face.” Dustin explains and you finally look up. Why was Max scared?

You look down at your sister, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Max?”

She doesn’t respond. You shake her a tiny bit. Still nothing.

You immediately look at Steve, panicked, before kneeling down beside her and turning her chair to face you. “Max?!”

As you stare up at her face, you almost scream. Her eyes are rolled back, whites staring back at you.

“Max!” You yell, cupping her face as Steve and Dustin shout for her. “Wake up! Come, on, wake up!”

She suddenly gasps, slumping forward in her seat and you lean forward, catching her. Her breathing is heavy as she clings to you.

“It’s okay. I’m here.” You soothe, a stray tear rolling down your cheek as Steve lets out a sigh of relief.

“What the hell just happened?”

Chapter 4: Symptoms ->

taglist: @gnnnne / @beepisbeep / @paintballkid711/ @eddiesbirdie/ @livasaurasrex/ @darktimelegends / @jackierose902109 / @mvrylee / @chervbs/ @eternallyvenus / @nervouscatsuit/ @f1nn-wolfhard/ @hereiamhereigo/ @ladybug0095 / @fangirling-4-ever / @astrolockley/ @mothmanatemycat

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 14 | Chapter 16

Chapter 15: Wet On Wet

TW: some sensually themed dreams, language as always, mentions of smoking and drinking (as always), mentions of past violence and minor injuries, some minor violence (the friendly kind this time), fluff, some Simone, some Howard, Jake & Olive finally get to have that heart to heart 😈👀, Jake and Lena are shameless flirts, a bit of light somewhat smut (oral, fem receiving), flashbacks and a good old cliffhanger to really torture you guys. SO sorry for the wait! As many of you know I had some work stuff going on, but things are finally slowing down and I'm hoping I'll be able to really get back on track with these fics. I did my best editing this long ass chapter (38 freakin pages), so as always sorry if there are any mistakes! Enjoy!

The slight chill that swept into the room brought goosebumps to my flesh, though I couldn’t really know for sure if it was the breeze or the sensation of Jake’s lips dragging down my neck. I knew outside it was cold, but I didn't feel it, even with the window open. I felt warm, almost smothered in heat. “Jake.”

His lips curled into a smile against my collarbone as he hummed, a thing he knew sent shivers down my spine. “Lena.”

“You’re tickling me,” I teased, wiggling in his arms.

With a huff, he lifted his head away from me, looking down at me with that dumb smile that warned of his coming mischief. “Am I? I had no idea.”

“Don’t you dar- JAKE!” I shrieked as his fingers ghosted up my ribs, lips resuming the light touches, tickling me in earnest now.

I rolled, just barely managing to escape his hold on me, darting forward into the hazy space of undefined shapes and lights. I only got a few steps in before his arms wound around my waist and hauled me back to his bed. A faint feeling sparked in my chest. Not the fear or the anger or the shame I expected. Not some old ache. It was something new, something almost foreign to me.

Laughter filled the room. My laughter. I rolled over again, my senses swarmed by the smell of his cologne as my face hit his blankets. His fingers traced the tattoo along my spine as I turned my head to look at him. Jake always looked like the perfect mix of heaven and hell, of sin and saint, of peace and war. He had a way of drawing me in that I didn't fully understand but that I didn't want to fight against anymore. "I like you."

His smile made me feel alive as he shifted closer with a light laugh. I dodged his kiss, burying myself in his blankets, listening to his infectious laughter as he joined me. "I think you might like my bed better than me, though."

"Maybe I do," I joked. "It is really comfy."

"It's certainly better than your bed."

I scoffed. "I'll have you know that bed is very comfortable! I've slept sixteen years on it, and each one has been glorious!"

"Jesus, sixteen years?" Jake replied, finding me beneath the covers. "No wonder it's all lumpy."

"I like lumpy," I retorted, scrunching up my nose at him as he pulled me in close. "And so do you."

An amused look of curiosity made him look younger as he settled his head against his arm. "Do I?"

I nodded, smoothing my hands down his shirt. "Everything I own has lumps. My mattress, my favorite pillow." My throat tightened as I chose my next words quietly, "I'm lumpy." Jake's eyes softened, and his smile turned into a sweet one. "And you like me… Right?"

"Yeah, I like you, princess." His lips were like silk against my own, slow and unhurried, passionate but not at all demanding. Safe.

My eyes shot open, and for a split second, the feel of a bandage against my neck made me panic. Patrick's industrial snoring was quick to banish all my fears as he tossed himself onto his side, putting his loud mouth right next to my head. Peter was curled up like a cat on the opposite side of me, his head of peach fuzz tickling the side of my face. Outside in the living room, I could hear Dom tidying up after himself. I lay in bed, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, that odd feeling my dream had caused to stir inside me slowly starting to dim.

Feelings like that, the warm and fuzzy things that nestled deep into the soul and opened people up from the inside out, they were dangerous. This world was filled with too many people who took advantage of others and used feelings of warmth, love, and safety to manipulate, lie, and abuse. I could practically hear my mother's voice, whispering loving words one moment and then spitting insults at me the next. Alongside thoughts of her, he was never close behind. I closed my eyes and counted my breaths, focusing on where I was now. Somewhere truly safe. Not some dream. Not with a stranger. Home. 

Only when Dom ran into the corner of the table and loudly cursed did my brothers stir. Patrick’s snoring abruptly stopped, and he sat upright, slowly sliding off the bed. Peter simply opened his eyes, still looking tired as he sighed, running a hand down his face. “Table?”

“Yeah!” Dom hollered back.

Patrick yawned, stretching before standing up from the floor and heading to my bedroom door. “You staying for breakfast?”

The shadow of the large biker was all I could see of him as he met Patrick outside the door. “Sure, I ain’t got anywhere to be yet.”

“How's the neck?” Peter asked, slowly sitting up and looking over at me.

I touched the bandage and shrugged. “It’s fine. Like Oz said, it was just a little scratch.”

He nodded, watchful eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “It wasn't as bad as some of the other times. Watching Dom get all… That was the worst of it."

"I'll be the last one to act like that guy didn't have it coming, but I'm glad Dom snapped out of it before things got too ugly. You did seem a lot more present after it all this time," Peter agreed. "I still figured I'd ask, though."

I rubbed his head and smiled at him. "I know. You're just doing your brotherly duties and whatnot."

He shrugged, standing up with a stiff groan. "Well, shower and change. I'll try to salvage breakfast."

I listened to him leave, greeting Dom with fondness and then attempting to help Patrick with cooking. Throwing the blanket over my head, I fumbled for my phone before flipping it open and wincing at the screen's bright light. I answered Prue and Quinn's messages of concern, and then, without hesitation, I opened Jake's contact.

I'm alive! I texted. You know, just in case you were feeling hopeful that you were finally rid of me.

After spending a few more minutes listening to the sounds of my brothers bickering over breakfast and Dom making awkward small talk, I got ready for the day. The shower water was warm and relaxing, and soon the smell of savory bacon and slightly sweet pancakes wafted into the bathroom. I changed the larger bandage around my neck for a smaller one, meant to hopefully not draw too much attention.

"Holy shit, you didn't burn anything," I remarked, stepping out of the bathroom and drying my hair with a towel.

Patrick nodded, patting himself on the back. "I'm gettin' kinda good at this cooking shit.” He set a plate down in front of Dom and smiled at me. “Better watch your back, lil sis. Looks like I'm comin' for your fancy cook title."

The biker took a bite of the pancakes and shook his head. “These taste like shit.”

“Fuck you!”

Peter kept his nose buried in his paper, quietly sipping his coffee as I took my seat at the table. Ozzy's loud steps echoed up the stairwell as he joined us with a smile. "Good morning, little misfits."

"Morning," we mumbled back.

He settled into the empty chair at the head of the table and tapped my arm. “I see you’ve changed the bandage. How is it looking?”

“It’s just a scratch,” I reassured him with a smile. “But thanks for helping patch me up last night.”

“Always, my dear.”

Patrick set the plate of food down in front of Ozzy, who looked at it with raised brows. “They’re letting you cook now?”

He rolled his eyes and sat down beside me. “Joke all you want, but you’ll all eat it anyway!”

“Or,” Peter spoke above his newspaper. “We could go to Nanas.”

“Rude,” Patrick huffed. “All of you.”

Ozzy took a few bites, swallowing them down with large gulps of coffee before he turned to me again. “I almost forgot! I’ve been emptying the storage unit behind the bar and found your paintings!”

I played with my food and sighed. “Are they taking up too much space?”

“Afraid so,” he chuckled. “I forgot how many you did.”

“Me too.”

Dom wiped his mouth and set his dishes in the sink. “Me and the boys can take them to your place if you want.”

“Aren’t you guys busy?”

“Nah,” he replied. “I’ve got time to spare.”

“Okay, that’d be a lot of help. Thanks, Dom.”

“No problem, kid,” he said, still looking a bit awkward as he passed me with a hesitant pat on the shoulder. “See you later.”

My phone buzzed on the tabletop, bringing a smile to my face but at the same time making those warm feelings start to bubble up again. Damn, and here I was, enjoying my peaceful morning.

Patrick glanced over my shoulder and smirked. “You two are just adorable.”

“Shut up!” I shoved him, moving back into my room to grab my bag. That’s rough. I hate to tell you, but you’ll never be rid of me now, Sweetie.

*

He smiled down at his phone, reading Lena's message once, twice, before replying. Damn, and here I was, enjoying my peaceful morning.

That's rough. I hate to tell you, but you'll never be rid of me now, Sweetie. Jake could hear her evil cackling in his head, a sign, perhaps, that he'd been spending too much time with the redheaded minx of a woman.

Smirking down at his lap, his fingers slid across the keys. I'll never recover.

Simone cleared her throat, sipping her mug of coffee with dead, predatory eyes, and like a child caught playing with a forbidden toy, Jake's back went ramrod straight. Her red-lined lips curled into something between a scowl and a smile. "What's funny?"

"What?"

"You've been smiling, practically giggling to yourself since we sat down." She set her mug down and wildly gestured with her hands before moving them to settle under her chin. "So, what's funny?"

Jake's mood almost instantly deflated as he shrugged. "I don't - it's nothing."

She hummed, clearly unhappy with his answer. "How typical."

"Simone-"

"No," she replied, softer as her shoulders fell and she looked defeated. "I didn't ask you to come to yell at you, Jake. I just… I miss you."

For the first time in months, he saw the softer side of Simone - the side that had raised him. She blinked a few tears away as she straightened in her seat, clearing her throat to keep her voice from breaking. Guilt filled him, a sense that he'd been neglecting her… Abandoning her made him sick to his stomach. "I miss you too. I'm… I'm sorry things have been so strained."

She smiled, a thoughtful look taking over her sad face. “It’s not entirely your fault. I’m guilty of letting things get to this point as well. What matters is we’re still here… Together.”

“Always,” he replied softly, a calm reassurance washing over him.

From there, things flowed smoothly. Conversation with Simone returned to how it always was, natural, honest, and open. The two of them laughed together and caught one another up with the gossip of the restaurant. She took a drink of her coffee and laughed. “It’s been rather enjoyable watching Howard freak out every night.”

Jake laughed with her. “Hell yeah, it has been. I don’t know what’s been going on with the schedule, but I have been thoroughly enjoying it.”

There was a short moment where Jake thought he saw something fill her eyes, a look of knowledge and a slight quirk of her lips before she covered it with a sigh. “It has made me a bit worried at times.”

“Worried?”

“For the others,” she answered. “Sasha and Ari and the lot of them haven’t exactly had things easy lately. I just hope they’re all doing alright under all the pressure.”

Jake smiled, a fond, warm feeling filling his chest as it appeared that Simone had gone back to how she’d always been. Kind and loving, and concerned for those around her. She helped people with things, and she was much better at it than he was. “They’ve been alright as far as I can tell. Ari’s got a girlfriend to help keep her grounded. Heather’s got that cook she’s been seeing. Scott’s Scott. Sasha’s sober-”

“Sasha’s sober?” Simone asked, eyes slightly wider in shock.

“Yeah,” he replied. “He has been for a while now.”

“Interesting.” She mused.

His phone vibrated again, and that smile returned to his face. Aww, don’t worry, tough guy. I’ll try to make the time as enjoyable as possible.

"So, how is your new fling?" Simone suddenly asked, smiling with that gleam in her eyes she always got when he gossiped to her. "Anyone I know?"

"No," Jake said, shaking his head. "It's nothing like that."

There was a long pause, a silence that was as stiff and unnatural as the skyscrapers that surrounded them. "You will tell me when that changes… Won't you?"

Jake caught her meaning without her having to voice it. Simone was asking him to be honest with her about the nature of things with Lena. He nodded, responding with a chuckle meant to put her at ease. "Trust me, I don't think you'll have to worry about anything like that."

“That’s good,” she said. “Though I have been meaning to ask if Lena has been alright lately. After everything with her mother and the stress I unknowingly caused, I’ve been worried about her.”

“She’s been alright,” Jake assured her. Simone made a noise, her brow arching slightly. “Why? Has she said anything to you?”

“Oh no,” she said, waving him off. “She’s not said anything to me, but she does seem like the type that would keep things like that bottled up to spare others.”

“And you think she’s been doing that?”

Simone shrugged before reaching over the table and holding his hand. “Breathe, love. You know her better than I do, so if she seems normal to you, then I’m sure she’s fine.”

It was then that Jake realized that ever since he’d left the bar last night, a feeling… hideous and slightly selfish had plagued him. He’d watched the entire encounter and had prepared himself for the worst. He was ready to follow Lena to The Cape, but instead, she was fine. She appeared a bit dazed, but after a minute or two, she’d reached out, touched him, and held a casual conversation as though nothing had happened. It was a pattern he’d taken note of early on, the way she would brush off serious moments where her life was in danger and push forward without second thought or care. He’d found it odd the first time and had written it off as them not being close enough for sharing deep emotions. But now, it was clear she did this often enough.

He had no clue why she’d care so little about her own safety, but that feeling, as ugly as it was, was something valid. He was frustrated. Angry that she didn’t even blink when someone threw a rock through her window intended for her. Angry that she’d reacted so little after almost drowning in the ocean or getting cut with a knife. Angry that Lena Harrow, a woman that meant more to him than words could express, had not even considered just how important her life was to him, to all of them. As Jake walked to work with Simone beside him, the feeling festered.

*

I watched the drones of people passing by the diner where Prue and Quinn ate their breakfast, my mind still letting that dream play. It wasn't like dreaming of Jake was new. I'd had at least a dozen over the past months, but those were… They were sexual, raw things fueled by the underlying well of desire that everyone had. Jake being at the center was just proximity. Having not had sex in a while didn't help the dreams die down. But that dream was different.

There was nothing too sexual, nothing that compared to the others, but I felt impossibly more shaken by it than those. It wasn't about Jake but about how I felt in an unknown place… How I didn't react at all when he grabbed me. Instead of falling into a terrifying memory of Tony or my mother when his arms had wrapped around me, I was flooded with warmth. I was certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I was safe. Jake made me feel safe.

It was just a dream, I reminded myself. But even that reminder couldn't account for all the other times Jake had made me feel that way. Times I'd apparently been able to ignore until now. Dreams often made little sense, they were a science still discussed and debated among even the brightest minds. Yet one thing everyone agreed on was that dreams were messages sent by our subconscious to warn us of threats and to help us realize things of importance. That knowledge only made me feel more confused. Was Jake a threat? Or was he something important? Was this dream meant to be a warning or some realization?

A hand waved in front of me, pulling my attention to Prue as she asked, with furrowed brows and concern in her eyes, "You're being quiet. Is everything okay?"

I sighed. "Just in my head. Sorry."

Quinn rolled her eyes, saying and signing, "Let me guess. This is about your little bartender?"

I answered with my middle finger.

Quinn returned the gesture with ease as Prue shook her head at us. "Is something the matter between you two?"

"No."

"Then why the long face?" She wondered.

Buttering a biscuit, Quinn snorted. "Here's a crazy solution to your sour mood. Fuck. Him. I'm telling you, it'll solve all your problems."

"It's not that." This caught her attention. "I… I had a dream about-"

"Ohh, my god!" Quinn interrupted with a whine, throwing her head back. "I love you to death, Lena, but I swear to Christ, if you're trying to pass another sex dream off as platonic, I'm going to throttle you!"

"Shut up!" I insisted. "It wasn't… The dream was normal."

"No sex?" 

"We weren't even fully naked."

"Interesting," Quinn cooed, wiggling her brows. "Sounds like you've got some real feelings to unpack."

I shook my head and set it in my hands. "I knew there were feelings. I mean, of course, I like Jake, he's my friend, and he's…" With a heavy sigh, I melted into the booth. "It was more about how I felt."

The slight shifting breeze in front of my covered face told me Prue was attempting to get my attention, but I couldn't bring myself to move. Quinn cleared her throat and kicked the seat beside me. "Well, how did you feel?"

"Warm," I answered softly. "Safe."

There was a moment of quiet as Quinn translated for Prue. "That's a good thing, isn't it?"

I knew the question was Prue's before I even lowered my hands to see Quinn's face. She understood. Having been my friend since we were younger, Quinn knew why feelings of warmth… Of safety were so dangerous. It was because, in this life, safety was more often than not just a fancy lie, an illusion, people told themselves to keep from thinking about all the horrible things in the world. Things that could and did happen. Things that happened to me and Quinn and Patrick and Dom and Jake and Ozzy and everyone else that was unlucky enough.

Prue didn't have life easy either, but she grew up under different circumstances, better ones. She grew up in a stable home with two parents that loved and protected her. Quinn and I had always agreed on the simple fact that Prue was the best of us. Funny, talented, confident, and, most importantly, kind, she made everything better. As I looked into Quinn's eyes, it was as if we'd shared the same thought. We make everything worse.

We held that thought for a moment before Quinn nodded, a silent acknowledgment, a gesture meant to reassure me that my feelings… My fears were valid. It had taken me, taken everyone I knew with similar mountains of trauma, years to trust anyone, even family. Yet, I trusted Jake… I felt safe with him after just a few months of knowing him. It was frightening and entirely foreign and not something I'd expected or realized fully before now.

Prue tucked my hair behind my ear and smiled. Beautiful and kind, Prue said, "Good or bad, you still have us."

"Thanks," I whispered, signing a quick but no less heartfelt, "I love you guys."

Her eyes shifted to my plate. "Are you going to eat that bacon?"

I set the greasy meat on her plate, smiling as she tugged me into her side and kissed my cheek. A different kind of warmth, simple and innocent, eased my conflicting feelings. Though some feelings still seemed to make me tense and confused, love certainly wasn't one of them anymore.

When I arrived at 22West the chaos was palpable. While the bikers that had secretly tailed me waited outside, casually moving through the busy crowds of people and traffic and hanging out in the old bodega across the street, I was thrust into a kitchen of sweltering heat, and Scott hurriedly rushed the team through prep. 

"Holy shit," I breathed.

Scott's scowl was set as he glanced up at me. "Hurry and change. All hands on deck."

"What's going on?"

"The fuck do you think?"

"Another scheduling mixup?"

"Yep." He shook his head, taking a sharpened knife and chopping an onion. "Now hurry up!"

I rushed to the staircase, hurrying up each step. "Yes, chef!"

Jake barely flinched when I collided with his chest. With a chuckle, he steadily me. "Easy there, princess, no need to throw yourself at me."

"You're so funny," I replied, slipping past him with a smile. "Scott's freaking out, so I gotta get ready."

He leaned against the door frame. "How's your neck?"

I halted in the quick stripping of my shoes and looked at him, tentatively pressing my fingers to the bandage that kept the small cut covered. "It's fine."

"Some asshole almost cut your throat open," he replied, almost angry. "And you're just fine?"

"I…" Sighing, I shrugged. "I don't want to talk about it."

Jake shook his head. "That seems to be the theme, doesn't it?"

"What's crawled up your ass today? You seemed fine with it all last night."

Mimicking my shrug, he held my gaze. "Maybe I just realized you'll never really let anyone help you."

"That's not fair." I glared at him. "And not true."

"What's not fair is you just expecting me to not say anything when you almost die because of some crazy person throwing a rock through your window and putting a knife to your neck." He paused and relaxed his tense posture slightly. "I was scared. When I shoved through that crowd and saw you covered in blood… I was scared, Lena."

"I…" Fear was an odd thing for people like me. People that had seen and lived through horrors most people never knew. Shocked would have been a more accurate word, but I doubted Jake cared about the words I used. "I'm sorry about last night being so fucked and about acting like it didn't happen."

"It's not your fault that it happened," he assured me. "I just don't want you to feel like you have to pretend like any of this is normal."

I chuckled and put my shoes in my locker. "It's not normal, but for me, it's not exactly out of the ordinary either."

He gave me a considering look. "Are you ever gonna explain what that means to me?"

"It's…" I turned away from him, focusing on my locker. "There's a lot of shit I've put behind me, or have tried to, and some of it comes with some nasty people that wanna fuck my shit up." For a minute, I really missed having my dad's jacket. I missed the comfort it brought me in situations like this. "I want to tell you about it. I do. But it's… It's not easy."

Jake moved like he was water, his silent steps bringing him beside me. His arms wrapped around me awkwardly. "Look, I get it. Just… don't forget you matter. Your life, your peace, or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, matters."

That warmth, that sickly sweet feeling of safety and security, was back. It was wrapped around me, smothering me in Jake. His cologne, his voice, the feel of his arms around me, the faint memory of his leather jacket, the memories of every dream I'd had of him. Oh, how I wanted to stay wrapped in that feeling forever. But that tainted, ugly, corrupted voice that was still so entangled in my very being made doubt and fear wash over that feeling.

I carefully turned, offering Jake a slightly tense smile. "Thank you."

It was clear he could sense the sudden tenseness that had filled me, but with a reassuring squeeze of his hand, Jake let it be. The commotion of the kitchen grew unimaginable now as Scott's loud voice echoed through the stairwell. Jake smirked, unable to hide the enjoyment he got from everyone going insane. "Better get down there, or Scott's gonna start throwing things."

"And you wouldn't?"

"I don't," he replied. "I was born for this shit."

"Hmm."

The cocky grin he sent me on his way out made my heart sputter. Watching the doorway for a second too long after he left, I shook my head of the less-than-work-appropriate thoughts and resumed changing. Scott had the kitchen in full swing as I hopped between the open positions, turning the chaos of the night into something better.

Everyone was in a horrible mood. The cooks shoved and bickered over having no space while the servers fought among themselves over petty things. Simone's never wavering smile made me irrationally heated, but it was Olive's loud and obnoxious voice filling every moment of silence with overconfident boasting and pointless jabbering that really made things difficult. Still, I kept my head up, and I found ways to lighten the tension.

Sasha barreled through the doors and stuck a finger in Heather's face. "You pampered privileged brat!"

"Oh fuck off!" She sneered, shoving his finger out of her face.

Scott groaned, throwing his rag down and stepping in between them. "What the fuck is going on?"

"She stole my sale!" Sasha insisted. "Sneaky cunt talked my take into another bottle of wine, but now they want her to get the tip."

"I wouldn't have had to step in if you'd paid attention to your tables."

The two of them raged like feral street cats. "ENOUGH!" All eyes turned to me. "My god, pull it together! Heather split the tip with Sasha. Sasha, kiss the guest's asses better. And everyone get the fuck back to work!"

Silence filled the kitchen as Isaac and another cook slid five plates onto the outgoing table. "Um… Table fifteen is up."

Sasha took three plates, turning and looking at Heather. "Follow me?"

"Yeah," she replied with a sigh, picking up the leftover dishes.

Scott and I rejoined the line, working quickly to make up for the time lost by the distraction. "You did good. Those morons would've been at it all night."

I laughed. "Everyone's just under a lot of pressure."

"Well, you seem to handle it better than most."

"Thanks chef." 

Everyone soldiered on through the remainder of the night, luckily no more petty fights broke out and while overbooked the guests seemed easy enough to please. By the end of service I was standing next to Santos helping him and the rest of the dishwashers finish up all while making jokes and telling stories to help  keep everyone's spirits high. The servers hurried upstairs, Simone sparing me a smile as she walked past without Olive by her side.

"Tiger!" Sasha shouted. "Have I ever told you how positively annoying your infectious goodwill is?"

"No."

He smiled, squeezing my cheek. "Well, It's absolutely horrendous and I hate it."

"Love you too Russian bastard," I replied. He flipped me off and headed up the stairs.

*

The night had been horrible, truly one of the worst ones since all the scheduling fuck ups began. Jake heard multiple squabbles echoing from the kitchen and wine cellar, but lucky for the sloppy servers he was good at his job. Nicky finished taking stock of the bar while Jake counted tips, hoping to finish before the group returned looking to drown their shitty moods. "Did you make good money tonight?"

The voice was sweet, sickly so, and he turned his head to find Olive sliding into the space beside him. Here we go, he thought, turning his attention away from her. "Can't complain."

"Well you are rather charismatic when you want to be," she said, running her fingers up his arm. "It's one of the things I like about you."

"Good lord," Nicky mumbled, trying to stifle a laugh.

Jake sighed. Months ago, before Lena, he'd get a real kick out of Olive's whole act. Hell he probably would have fucked her a few times if she was a tolerant lay. But now, her constant presence and her attention was unwanted and unnecessary. "What's your game?"

"I'm gonna go get changed," Nicky said quickly as he fled from the bar.

"What do you mean?"

Jake gestured to her hair. "Are you just trying to prove some point or is this seriously you trying to replace Lena because your mom didn't love you enough?"

Olive pushed herself up against him, rolling her eyes. "I want you. No game. No fuss. Unlike some people I'm not afraid to go after what I want."

The dig at Lena was obvious and so wrong Jake laughed in her face. "You don't even know what you want. You think if you act like her, dress like her or look like her that everything will just magically click. Well, life's not that easy and neither am I."

"That's not what I've heard." She insisted, ignoring his insults. "I've heard the gossip, you haven't had sex in months. Months all because she wants to be an upright brat. You don't owe her anything Jake, and she's not going to give you what you want… What you deserve. So come on, what's stopping you?"

That's it. He set the money down, turning to face her fully. "I'll make this as clear as I can since you seem so slow. I don't want to fuck you. Most of the time I don't even want to look at you. You, Olive or Olivia whatever the fuck your name is, are pathetic. I. Don't. Want. You. I will never want you."

*

After finishing the dishes and telling Nicky I'd cover the bar for him I made my way toward the front. As I opened the door I just barely had time to move as Olive rushed out from behind the bar past me. “She doesn’t seem happy.”

“She’s probably not,” Jake replied with a thin smile.

“Should I be careful around the stairs?”

“You should be fine,” he said, walking toward me. “Guess she just can’t handle my charm.”

I laughed, standing my ground as he entered my space like all the times he’d done it before. “Well, her loss. You are quite charming."

He laughed a bit and shrugged. "You helping me with the masses tonight?"

"Looks like it."

"Good. I like having you behind a bar."

I smirked, pressing against his chest. "You haven't had me behind a bar." His eyes darkened as he caught my play on his words. "Yet."

His eyebrows rose. "Not gonna leave me hanging again?"

"You're really not gonna let that go are you?"

"Nope."

The crowd of coworkers was demanding after a long night of horrible service, but Jake and I made a good team. Eventually we all closed things down and Jake and I headed upstairs to change. Howard stood in the locker room, quickly straightening up as we entered. "Lena," his eyes darted to Jake. "I was hoping to speak with you before you left."

I folded my arms. "Speak then."

"In private."

"Am I fired?" I asked.

"No!" Howard answered quickly. He sighed, taking a step forward, one Jake almost matched. "I wanted to apologize. I knew things with your mother were… I… I shouldn't have put you in that position."

I nodded. "I'm glad you realize that and I accept your apology Howard."

He smiled. "Thank you. I…" Once again he looked at Jake and straightened his back. "I'll see you both tomorrow."

Once he was gone Jake scoffed. "What a dick."

"Apologizing hardly makes someone a dick."

"Please," he insisted, changing. "He only did it to get back in your good graces. He didn't mean it."

I changed as well, shaking my head at him. "Howard's strict, but he's not horrible."

"Agree to disagree." He closed his locker, leaning back to watch me fix my top. "We going out tonight?"

I shrugged. "Ozzy's doing another karaoke night."

"Sounds fun." He stood up straight, following me out. "You gonna sing?"

"Fuck no." I bumped his shoulder. "Are you?"

"No," he laughed. "I don't think anyone wants to hear that."

"I do!" I replied, smiling at him. "I bet you're a good singer."

Smirking, he tilted his head. "Why's that?"

"Because you have such a pretty voice," I answered. "Especially when you're breathlessly whining my name."

Jake leaned in, breath caressing my face as he said, soft and slow, "You're it."

I hadn't felt the light touch of his hand on my shoulder until he hurried past our friends with two large strides. "That's cheating!"

*

On the stage, Patrick was spinning and dancing fancily, singing Enya's Orinoco Flow with every ounce of passion he could. The crowd of drunken patrons both booed and cheered him on. All of my friends that sat in our booth were in hysterics laughing. This kind of thing probably seemed odd to them, considering Patrick's build, appearance, and profession, but to me, this was a glimpse back into our childhood. Enya was always his favorite.

Sasha downed the last shot at the table and pointed at me. "Your dirty bitch ass is singing tonight!"

"Good luck with that," Quinn mumbled, taking a sip of her drink.

"Problem Quinn?" I asked.

She set her glass down, nodding. "You're being a buzzkill!"

Jake's smirk did little to help me contain my laugh. "How am I being a buzzkill?"

"You won't sing with us!" She whined. "Prue and I have been begging you every karaoke night! Last time it was because your grumpy bartender was throwing hands in the street. The time before that, you said your throat hurt. And so the excuses go on!"

I shrugged. "Maybe I just don't want to sing."

"But you're so good at it!" She continued. "And it's more fun with all of us! Prue won't even go up without both of us there."

Jake looked at me again, this time with a slightly raised brow. "Sounds like solid evidence to me, buzzkill."

Shoving my elbow into his arm, I cocked my head. "I'm a buzzkill now? I'll have to remember that next time you call me late at night."

"You were a buzzkill then, too," he retorted. "From what I understand, hanging up on a friend in a time of need is considered rude."

The crowd erupted into cheers as Patrick stepped off the stage with an over-exaggerated bow. He made his way to our table, accepting high fives and fiat jumps along the way until he reached his drink and chugged it. Breathlessly wiping the excess from his mouth, he smirked at me. "Are you going up tonight?"

Quinn nodded, making her eyes as big as possible as she pursued her lips out, begging me. I turned in my booth seat, resting fully against Jake and letting my legs stretch out over the empty seat. "Nope."

"Copperhead?" Quinn asked, glaring at me over the table. "Execute operation raccoon."

"Wait-" I tried.

Patrick grabbed my ankles, pulling me away from Jake's cocoon of warmth as he dragged me out of the seat. "Roger that, Peach. Come on, little sis, it'll be fun!"

"Patrick!" I growled as he hoisted me up over his shoulder.

With a slight groan in his voice, he nodded to Quinn. "This a duet or a solo act?"

Chuckling, she joined us, pinching my cheek and dodging my hands as I waved them around, trying to slap her. "Bitch you're lucky I'm coming up with you at all after that!"

Prue's face lit up as she hopped away from Will's side. "Are we going up?"

"Hell yeah, we are!" Quinn signed, throwing an arm around her. "Every girl group has at least three members. The cute one, you darling Prue. The sexy one, me, obviously. And the bitch-"

I scoffed. "Someone's delusional."

"See? Bitch." She flipped me off.

Patrick hurried up the stage and popped me back on my feet. "Give 'em hell, little sis."

"I'll deal with you later," I growled.

*

Jake watched Patrick sling Lena over his shoulder, carrying his sister toward the stage as she moved like a crazed raccoon trying to shake herself free of his grip. After hearing about karaoke night, Jake couldn't help but secretly hope Lena would take the stage. Part of him wanted her to be bad at it. At least then, it'd be easier to remember that she wasn't perfect, but the other somehow knew she wouldn't be. So he sat up in their little booth and watched the siblings argue for a moment before Lena finally seemed to cave.

Arms crossed and a bitter, but still slightly amused, scowl on her face, she stood next to her friends as they flipped through the song booklet. Jake couldn't help himself as he lifted his hands up and signed one of the only two words he remembered from Prue. "Smile."

She shook her head, clearly fighting a grin as she lifted her finger and flipped him off before signing back the only other word he remembered. "Asshole."

He couldn't have contained the laugh even if he'd tried. From beside him, he noticed Peter's smile grow, and for a second, he wanted to ask him why, but then the drug-dealing biker sat down across from him. "Give us the booth Pete."

Peter nodded, sliding out of Lena's seat and walking with his brother to the bar. Dom hadn't given him any trouble since the first time he ran into the man in the alley, but Jake still tensed. With a forced tone of calm and uncaring, he asked, "Is there a problem?"

The biker smirked. "I ain't gonna kick your ass or nothing if that's what you're asking."

"Can't blame me for being on the cautious side after the other night."

"A fair point." He turned his head, looking over at the stage where Lena was now trying to help her friends decide on a song. "I wanted to say thank you."

"What for?"

"Being with her after I…" Shaking his head, Dom sighed. "Trouble always seems to follow her, and I guess lately I've been realizing more and more that I can't always be there to keep her head above water." On that, it seemed Jake and the drug dealer agreed. Lena was a woman that lived just a few steps ahead of the storm, and while he knew little about what she had put behind her that made everyone so damn protective, he knew enough to recognize the danger. "I didn't think you were gonna stick around this long. I took one look at you, a hot-headed, ill-tempered little boy running his mouth to anyone and everyone, and figured you'd run out of steam long before now." With a chuckle and a smile that Jake would describe as almost friendly, he said, "Guess I'm saying I'm glad you're still here to help keep her out of trouble."

It felt weird, having someone - especially someone like Dom - thank him. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd been sincerely thanked for anything. It was rare and often tied to a string of favors. This wasn't, though. This was a type of gratitude Jake was unfamiliar with, a type that required practically nothing from him. Dom, a man who commanded respect, thanked him for something that Jake enjoyed. "I'm just being a friend."

The man shook his head. "Lena has plenty of friends, but none of them are like you. Whether you see it or not, you're important to her. Don't waste it pretending it's as simple as friendship."

His gut instinct to deny the truth of Dom's words came bubbling up his throat, but anything he would've said was silenced as the music finally came roaring to life on stage. The girls huddled around the singular microphone, Quinn on the left, Lena on the right, and Prue in the center with her hands raised up in an easy signing position. I Got You, Babe, by Sonny and Cher, was not the song he'd imagined them choosing, but it fit the trio well.

Lena's voice was light and perfectly melodic as she sang Cher's lines with a smile. Quinn's naturally lower voice suited Sonny's part well enough; the impression she had of the old singer, however, did not. Giggling would occasionally fill the microphone as Prue attempted to vocalize the background harmony while she signed the words. It was chaotic, but not a single person in the crowd complained as they sang along and cheered the trio on.

Ozzy's tall figure stood next to their booth with a smile. "Been a while since I've heard that voice."

"She doesn't sing often?" He asked, wondering why she wouldn't with a voice like that.

"She used to." He chuckled. "Drove everyone damn crazy some mornings. She stopped after Jack passed." The bar owner's face grew solemn as he looked over at Dom. "Seems like our girl's getting some of that spirit back."

The biker glanced at Jake, nodding. "Looks like it."

"I got you, babe."

*

Hearing the crowd's encouraging cheers and their enthusiastic waves and smiles made me feel almost giddy. It had been so long since I’d been on the stage, so long since I’d really let myself enjoy the little things that had once been normal. My eyes lifted to the bar, where just for a moment, I could have sworn I saw my dad’s hulking figure standing at the office door. Prue squealed beside me, latching onto my arm and shaking me. “That was so much fun!”

Quinn wrapped an arm around me with a smug smirk. “Told ya!”

I shook it off, returning their smiles. “Yeah, yeah, you were right. Whatever!”

We made our way back to the table, where Ozzy served a round of drinks to Dom and Jake, who sat across from one another in a way that made me suspicious. Oz turned, wrapping me in a bone-crushing hug. “My little showstopper!”

“Oz!” I giggled. “It was hardly showstopping.”

“Nonsense, it’s you, so it’s always magnificent.”

Once he let me go, I turned my gaze back to the two men sitting in the booth. “Having a nice conversation?”

Dom looked over at Jake and shrugged a shoulder. “I was perfectly pleasant.”

“Sure.” I nodded to Jake, who looked at Dom with an uncertain expression. “You wanna get out of here for a bit?”

He knew what I meant and carefully slid out of the booth. “Sure.”

Once the noise from the bar faded and the slightly chilled breeze washed over us in the alley, I turned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered, slightly confused. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Dom can be…” The image of him bloody and angry popped into my mind. “Overprotective.”

“I noticed.” Jake opened the gym door, holding it for me as we slid through. “He was just thanking me for helping out the other night.”

My eyes widened slightly as I searched Jake's face, waiting for some kind of punchline. "Really?"

"Yeah," he said. "Why does he not do that often?"

"No. Dom's not exactly the most vocal guy." I bumped his shoulder. "He must like you."

Before Jake could answer, Patrick whistled. "Oi! Jerky Jake, grab some gloves and hop in the ring!"

Jake looked at him with confusion. "Aren't we meeting tomorrow morning?"

"We are. It ain't me you're gonna fight tonight."

Peter moved from inside the ring and smiled. "I'm the challenger. If you're down for a quick match."

Looking over at me, the silent question hung between us. Is this okay? I shrugged. "If you think you can take him, hop on in, Jerky Jake."

"If I win, do I get a new name?" He asked, rolling his eyes.

"No," Patrick and I answered.

He draped his jacket over my shoulders before walking off toward the locker room. I hid my smile as I shoved my hands through his sleeves. Looking up at Peter, I sighed. "Are you up for this?"

He made a face, annoyed and slightly worried. "I want to at least try, and Jake's honorable enough not to kill me."

"He's also still kind of shit." Patrick shrugged. "It's the truth!"

Jake joined us again moments later, now dressed in more casual breathable clothes. He hopped into the ring and got to work preparing for a match.

I leaned on the ropes, watching Jake secure his gloves, and listened to Patrick's instructions. "Peter's got the technical advantage while you've got the physical. Don't get cocky."

"And just be prepared," I added. "Win or lose, he's gonna be such a good sport it'll annoy the hell out of you."

Jake smiled. "Noted." Once Patrick left his side to talk to Peter, he stepped closer. "Gonna give me a good luck kiss, princess?"

I leaned forward, my lips hovering over his. "Raincheck?"

He bit his cheek and shook his head. "Now you're just being mean."

"Try not to get your ass kicked too bad. It'd really fuck up your reputation, tough guy."

The match itself was slower than a normal one would be, and while Peter looked in better shape than he had months ago, he was still struggling to keep up. Jake was clearly holding back, taking Peter's hits without even really attempting to dish any out, and my brother knew it. He stopped, lowering his arms with a sigh. "Hit me."

Jake followed through with a weak punch to Peter's shoulder. The movement barely rocked him. Pete shook his head. "Fucking hit me, Jake."

"I'm not gonna hit you, Peter," he replied.

"Then we're gonna be here all night." Peter landed another slow blow. "HIT ME!"

That was when Jake moved faster than he intended, throwing a real punch that hit my brother square in the gut. Patrick and I jumped slightly, hands tight on the ropes as we prepared to jump over and help him. Jake was frozen in place as he looked down at my brother, who lay across the mat, breathing heavily.

Peter's laughter instantly put us all at ease. "Well, shit! You've got some chance at this, after all!" Jake held out a hand and helped him to his feet. Peter shook his hand, his smile never faltering. "Keep that up, and you'll be ready for a real match in no time, little brother."

The smile on Jake's face said it all as he looked at me. "You're right. That is annoying."

"I told you," I replied with a grin.

Patrick tucked under the ropes and slapped him on the shoulder. "Hell yes! Just a bit more practice on that footwork, and you'll be ready for a real fight."

As Jake changed, I slapped Peter's arm. "What the hell was that?"

He shrugged. "I wanted to see if I was strong enough to take a hit."

Patrick nodded along. "Well, you are."

"You're both fucking stupid."

I made my way out into the alley, sitting on the couch and letting Whisky jump in my lap. Jake joined us shortly, awkwardly sitting next to me. "Are you mad?"

"That you punched my idiot brother?" I laughed. "No."

"Thank god," he breathed, reaching over to pet Whisky. 

Usually, he'd have lit a cigarette already, but tonight he just leaned into my side and pet the hairless cat. "No smoke tonight?"

"Nah," he replied. "I don't really feel like I need one."

"Okay," I replied, smiling. "Whisky isn't too big a fan of the smell anyway."

Jake scoffed and shook his head. "Hemingway loves the smell."

*

The brush smoothed along the surface of the canvas, leaving a thin trail of vibrant cerulean in the path I carved. Soft, even strokes helped mingle the dark shade with the lighter ones just enough to shift the overall hue of the waves. Teal paint bled into the water as I gently dipped the tip of the brush in the small glass jar, washing it around for a moment and watching the color move through the water before I pulled it out and applied the wet brush to the canvas, smoothing over the paint to blend it further.

The noise of the city outside was almost unnoticeable as I lost myself in the art and to the feeling of freedom I'd long forgotten it brought me. Art. The expression or application of human creative skill and imagination. To the billions of people that populated this planet, art was subjective to the eyes that beheld it. Each piece, each artist, a topic of debate to try and put a physical value or price tag on it to determine its worth. A pointless venture, one that changed more than the phases of the moon.

I remembered the stifling feeling of those rich, snobbish eyes on my paintings. I remembered feeling naked under the expensive and lavish gown my mother and Tony had squeezed me into. Most of all, I remembered looking at the painting everyone admired and wondering in my mind, the only place of solace I'd been allowed, why I felt nothing. No matter how many people complimented my work or technique, the piece in front of me remained empty. A void, I'd realized years later, a place for me to depict how I felt beneath the makeup and clothing. A silent cry for help that no one heard but me.

"So much talent! And for one so young!" An older woman adorned in fine silk and sparkling jewels cried out as she smiled at the looming shadow beside me. "You must be a very proud patron."

His laugh, deep and foreboding, sent chills down my spine. The weight of his arm curling possessively around my shoulders and his hand squeezing my arm made me feel nauseous. "Very proud indeed. Lena is an extraordinary girl."

The woman practically swooned at him, eating up his fake smile and fake words with glee. "Oh, Anthony! How did you ever come to discover such a hidden talent?"

"Hidden?" Tony questioned with a shake of his head. "It was never hidden from me. Nothing is, right, Lena?"

I looked up, daring to meet his gaze as the hand on my arm squeezed tighter. The dead gray of them spoke the words he didn't, his smile never faltering. "Right."

All too pleased with my compliance, he turned away, re-engaging in conversation. From across the room, my mother scowled at me, waiting until the passersby had left before storming over to us and turning me, pulling roughly on my hair to tighten it back into place. "Are you trying to embarrass us?" Before I could answer, she turned me again and shoved against my chest, forcing my back straighter. "Stand up straight, Lena! Chin up, neck extended!"

My eyes stung with repressed tears that the pain my fractured rib caused me in this position. My breaths were shallower, the pressure of my injuries making sure I got less air than I needed. Tony set a hand on my mother's cheek, and she calmed instantly, meeting his eyes with a sparkling gaze and a soft smile. "Relax, Jennifer, everyone's so focused on her painting they'll hardly remember her slouching."

"You're right," she said with a laugh. "You always are, dear Anthony."

I spared a look at the painting that hung beside me, bathed in light to properly showcase the colors. Intricate and ornate and entirely void of life. An empty thing created simply to fill space. A reflection of myself.

The brush held firm on the canvas as I breathed through the mild sensation of old panic and hopelessness. Soon the steadiness of the brush began to waver as tremors overtook my hands. The brush fell to the floor, followed closely by the glass jar of colored water as I moved my arm out to steady myself on the stool.

My front door slammed open, and Ryker shoved himself inside, gun in his hand and eyes scanning the room before quickly finding me. "What happened?"

"Nothing," I breathed out. "Nothing happened. I just…"

He put the gun away and came to my side, carefully pulling me into his arms and hugging me. "What do you need?"

I closed my eyes, trying to slow my breathing and regain control of my still-shaking hands. "Just stay and talk."

"That I can do," Ryker insisted.

"Thank you."

He talked for what felt like hours, telling me every story he could think of, most at Dom's expense. Eventually, my body relaxed, and Ryker eased into moving around my living room, helping me reorganize the massive piles of canvases, both painted and blank. He set a pile of sketchbooks down on my counter and smiled. "I remember when you always had one of these with you. Rain or shine, no matter where you went, you had one of your little books and some pencils."

I leafed through the colored pages, admiring the scribbles of my younger self. "Yeah, it was nice getting to draw stuff I wanted to."

With a wide grin, he turned the sketchbook he'd been looking through toward me, revealing my old sketch of him. "You sure know how to capture my good side."

"Every side is your good side," I reassured him, punching his cheek and snatching the book out of his hand.

It was old, bound in rich red leather, and practically falling apart. One of my oldest sketchbooks and one filled with faces I'd drawn. My dad. Ozzy. Patrick. Peter. Nana and Abdul. Quinn. Prue. Everyone that meant something to me. The pages were stained with smudges, but the pictures I'd drawn still held some life in them. Compared to my most recent one, the one I'd filled with new faces from 22West, it looked like a book you'd find in some dumpster.

I set the book beside my newer one, blue leather still tightly bound beside the old one. Ryker helped himself to some leftovers as my phone rang. The wide smile practically made my cheeks hurt as I looked down at Jake's familiar number. "Hello?"

"Hey," he answered, sounding a bit breathless. "You busy?"

"Nope," I replied, shooing Ryker out of my apartment. "What's up?"

"Bored. Figured you'd have something for me to do."

I cleaned up after Ryker, opting to save the dishes for later. "Did you just finish your training session with Patrick?"

Jake chuckled. "Yeah, he got in a few good hits today."

"Well, how about some lunch at Nana's to help with your aches and pains, tough guy?"

"Sounds fun. See you there."

"See you there."

Nana's was just a few blocks down the road, but by the time I'd changed, I was certain Jake would be waiting for me outside. Instead, I found him sitting at a table, laughing with Nana as she set plates upon plates of food down in front of him. When she turned to get more, she saw me, her eyes lighting up with joy. “There she is! My lovely girl!”

I kissed her cheeks and smiled at her. “Hi, Nana. Trying to make him pop?”

Jake laughed at my joke while Nana swatted my arm. “He’s thin! The boy needs to eat!”

“Well,” I said, sitting down across from him. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I am,” he replied with a smile. “Besides, the food here is so good I don’t know if I’ll be able to resist.”

I nodded. “That’s how she gets you.”

“Truly dastardly.”

We ate and talked for an hour or so before we were roped into delivering more food to Prue and Ozzy. Prue and Katie welcomed us with open arms and growling stomachs. Prue taught Jake some more words in sign language. The sight of him so intentionally paying attention and trying to follow along with her teachings without words made my heart swell. Katie nudged me. "Not gonna fuck him, my ass."

I scoffed at her. "I'm not."

"Oh, sure!" She replied with a grin. "I might not be very smart, but even I know what that look means!"

Prue made a loud noise, a cheer, as Jake got the sign right. Waving me over, she pointed to him. "Watch!"

Jake repeated the motions just as she had. "I like Lena Harrow."

My eyes went wide, and my face burned as Jake looked up with a tilt of his head. "What did I say?"

"Nothing!" I replied over Katie. Turning to Prue, I signed, "I'm gonna get you back for that bitch."

"What? I thought it was cute!" She giggled, giving Jake a hug. "He's a quick learner."

"What's she saying?"

"That you're a quick study," I replied. "Come on, you don't need any more compliments."

Just as we turned, Patrick walked through the door, his hair smoothed back and his clothes looking better than usual as he picked at the bouquet of flowers in his hand. Jake and I paused, all three of us staring at each other, questions waiting on each of our tongues. "Not a word, Lena." My brother warned. "Or I'll make my boyfriend jokes even worse." He added in Irish.

I nodded. "Good to see you, big brother."

"Jake," Patrick greeted as he passed to stand at the front desk, where Katie returned, eyes wide and cheeks pink as she looked at him and the flowers.

"Patrick," Jake replied with a grin.

"Have a nice date!" I replaced, slipping out the door as his loud fuck off echoed through the glass.

The bar was slow when Jake and I arrived, moving through the bouncers and the bikers, who all sniffled the air and mumbled about how hungry they were. Ozzy was behind the bar, looking down at a small stack of papers, signing here and there. "Order for the mighty Oz!"

He looked up, smiling at the sound of my voice. "No wonder why it's taken so long! Nana entrusted my meal to the chatterbox!"

I scoffed. "Don't look at me. It's all Jake's fault!"

Jake glanced at me. "Really?"

Ozzy opened his meal, happily digging in before gesturing between the two of us. "What have you two been up to today… together?"

"Lunch," I replied. "So scandalous, I know."

"Well, it seems like fate then that I just so happened to find a box of old photos."

"No!" Ozzy set the box on the bar between him and Jake, easily holding me back with his arm as I tried to reach around him to get it. "Jake, don't even think about looking!"

He'd already pulled out a stack of photos, grinning ear to ear as he flipped through them. "Holy shit. This just became the best day ever." He held one up, one of me and Quinn at the arcade looking like idiots.

I reached over, trying to snatch it from him. "Gimme!"

"Here, look at these ones," Ozzy said, handing him another stack.

"Ozzy!"

The two of them laughed at my expense for twenty minutes. Ozzy even promised to look for the old home videos my dad had recorded for Jake to see before the subject finally changed. The topic, however, didn't exactly spare me any attention. "Did all your paintings make it to your place alright?"

I nodded. "Yeah, they're all still in one piece. Though you were right, I might have too many."

"Paintings?" Jake asked.

"You haven't seen them?" Ozzy asked as I smacked my head on the bar. "Lena is quite the artist!"

"This has been absolute torture," I whined, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "See you later, big guy."

Outside, Jake looked at me again, eyebrows raised. "Paintings?" He repeated.

I groaned. "Seriously? Were the pictures not enough for you?"

"Oh, come on, you did say you'd show me last time we hung out at Nana's."

"Fine, I will, but that means you'll have to return the favor with your photography."

"Deal."

Back at my apartment, Jake sifted through my old canvases and ate up all the stories I’d share with him about each one, eyes bright and focused solely on me. It was addictive and somewhat intimate in ways I didn’t understand. "You have a lot more than I was expecting."

"Yeah," I scratched the back of my neck. "I had a lot of time after moving in with my dad. It was easier to express how I felt with paint. Words… They're harder to put together."

Lifting an old piece of Cape Cod, gloomy and swimming in dark colors and muted tones, he nodded. "I think I understand. I'm not exactly good with words either."

I arched a brow. "No? And here I thought you were charming."

"Flirting doesn't count," he replied with a wink. "We both know I'm good at that."

"Uh-huh."

He moved to my sketchbooks, flipping through the pages of my youth, appreciating each one. He stopped on my dads sketch, smiling at the picture. "You look a lot like him."

The compliment was so genuine and innocent that it almost brought tears to my eyes. I tucked my hair behind my ear and shrugged, suddenly feeling self conscious about the whole thing. "Really? Everyone always said I looked like my mom."

Jake made a face of disgust as he shook his head. "You don't look anything like her. She always looks so… Cold and judgmental, while you," he paused, looking up at me. "You look warm… Approachable like your dad looked."

"Thanks," I whispered.

"What's in this one?" He asked, setting down the older book in favor of the new one, the one he absolutely could not see.

"That one isn't done yet," I replied hastily while also trying to not draw too much attention to it. Still, he started turning the pages. "Wait!"

His mouth curved into a smile at the sight of the sketch of the restaurant. It only kept growing as he continued, flipping through the sketches of our coworkers until he stopped at his. Looking up, those eyes gleamed, prideful and smug. "You drew me?"

I tried snatching it out of his hands, but he quickly moved the book out of the way. "I drew everyone."

"What's this writing at the bottom?"

"Jake!" I jumped for the book again.

"Eyes so blue I drown,

In an ocean vast and deep,

Storm clouds gather,

And the sky cries out.

A cry for death,

A cry for life,

A cry for peace,

Eyes so blue he drowns."

After reading my poor poem, the smile faded slightly, his eyes scanning the words a second time. Then a third. After the fourth readthrough, he finally asked, "You wrote this about me?"

I shrugged, finally catching the edge of the book. He held firm as I tried to pull it from his hands. "Kind of. I'd drawn everyone else but couldn't get your eyes right. You probably thought I was staring at you to be flirty, but a lot of the time, I was trying to get a good look at your eyes. And once I finished them…" This sounds so dumb, I thought. "The words just kind of came to me, and I wrote them down. It's stupid, I know."

"It's actually pretty good." He smiled again, softer than before. Real.

"Oh?" I tried to hide my blush. "Never would have taken you for a man that likes shitty poetry."

"Maybe I just like your shitty poetry."

My face burned under his intensely sincere gaze as I pulled on the book harder. Jake leaned forward, towering over me with a satisfied grin. "Let go."

After a second chuckling at me, he let me take the book, closing it and setting it on the counter. "Are you gonna teach me something about painting now?"

"Do you want me to?" I asked with a nervous laugh.

"Why not?"

"I'm not much of a teacher," I answered.

Jake shrugged off his jacket. "Come on, princess, teach me something."

I relented too quickly, gathering my paints and clean water and setting up a new canvas on my easel. Once everything was ready, I handed Jake my brushes. "Hold these. I have to change."

Slipping into my bedroom, I searched for my usual painting clothes, a baggy T-shirt and shorts, but when those were found at the bottom of my hamper, I had to improvise. The tank top was a size too small, and the shorts were a pair of Patrick's I'd accidentally grabbed, but it'd have to do. Jake was still waiting when I returned. His eyes widened at the sight of my outfit. "Not a word," I warned.

He held a laugh. "You look good."

Grabbing my brushes, I organized them around my station and sighed, settling in the high stool. "Well, where do you want to start?"

"You're the teacher," he retorted, standing close beside me, pulling out and lighting a cigarette. "Why don't you just start, and I'll try to keep up."

"Alright," I picked a large brush dipping it in the water for a minute before wetting the canvas. "We'll start with technique. This is called wet on wet. It's where you wet the canvas before applying paint. It's best for watercolors and bleeding colors together."

He nodded, seemingly paying attention, but I caught a glimpse of that gaze. Dark and hungry and full of mischief. "Wet on wet sounds fun."

I rolled my eyes and squeezed a few drops of paint onto my tray. "Now I'm gonna cover the whole canvas in this yellow-orange color. We can layer more color on top to help us get the perfect  sunset look." Focusing on the canvas, I ignored the clamoring noises off to the side of me until the easel bumped and Jake's hands set on my thighs. Looking down at him, now kneeling in front of my knees, I narrowed my eyes. "What are you doing?"

His fingers caught the hem of my shorts, the cigarette hanging from in between his lips, tugging them down impatiently. "Lift." With a sigh, I followed his request, lifting my hips to help him get my pants and underwear off.

"I thought you wanted an art lesson."

Jake smirked, blowing the smoke up toward me before putting it back between his lips, freeing his hands to carefully pull my legs apart. "I do. Just keep going."

"Fine," I huffed, trying to ignore the burning in my cheeks whenever I let myself recognize that he had my entire pussy in his face. The intense hammering of my heart and the pool of pleasure building in my gut as he pulled me forward and gripped my hips in his hands was thrilling and too distracting for me to keep going.

I could feel him breathe smoke out across my skin as he chuckled, tapping my thigh with his fingers. "Is the lesson over?"

"No!" I yipped, shaking myself out of the trance he'd put me in. I refused to give him that kind of satisfaction. "Wet on wet," I continued trying to recall where exactly I'd left off.

"Wet indeed," he teased, dragging his fingers through my folds.

My face, my whole damn body, was on fire. I bit my cheek and kept my eyes trained on the yellow and orange hues in front of me, mixing some red onto the brush and lifting it to stroke across the canvas, making sure to do it as sloppily as I could to ensure Jake got splashed with some of the drops. If it'd bothered him he didn't say. He just continued his lazy motions for a moment and smoked his cigarette. If I hadn't been so concentrated on trying not to moan, I would have complimented his ability to multitask.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and continued, "Once you mix enough red in around the edges, creating a nice contrast to the yellow, you'll wet the brush again and-" His fingers slid over my clit, making my jolt as the instant pleasurable sensation hit me with a sharp gasp. Jake's blue eyes drank in every bit of it. I breathed out and straightened up again. "And blend out the harsh edges."

"Edges…" I remembered his half-threat, half-promise from Ari's hotel room.  Fuck. He held the cigarette up with a wicked grin. "Hold that for me, princess. I'm gonna need both my hands."

"Jake-" My fingers accepted the cigarette, and the desperate plea for mercy died on my tongue as he gave me a smug look. He'd be insufferable if I admitted defeat after all the shit-talking and all the riling up I'd been doing since that night. So I closed my mouth and gripped my paintings tight. "Don't bump my easel while you're down there."

His smirk widened, and his thumb rolled over my clit again. "Yes, ma'am."

God damn him! I lifted my head up, sucking in a deep breath as his fingers worked my clit in earnest now. Trying to paint with a very attractive bartender between my thighs was not at all what I imagined would happen today. Not that I could really complain. I managed to keep myself fairly composed, only slipping up a few times with heather breaths and some choice curves, but all my resilience just made Jake want it more.

I gave up trying to talk him through my actions when his fingers slid inside me, stealing my breath in seconds and forcing me to bite down on my lower lip to keep from giving into the pent-up moan I held in my throat. His pace was slow and languid, focused on building up the pleasure and pressure rather than trying to bring me to orgasm. It felt good, and he knew it. When my chest started heaving a little harder, he lifted his head up slightly, nodding to the cigarette that faded in between my fingers. "Give me a drag?"

Placing the cigarette between his lips, I let him take a long drag of it before pulling it away to place it in between my own lips. Maybe that'd help calm my nerves. Jake blew the smoke across my skin again, making it break out in goosebumps. His teeth scraped against my inner thigh, and in the blink of an eye, his mouth was on me. "Ah!" I breathed out a startled moan, my legs closing on instinct.

Jake's fingers left me as his large hands wrapped around my thighs, keeping them pried open. The cigarette fell from between my fingers into my paint water, fizzling for a moment as it snuffed out. My eyes closed tightly, the paintbrush pressing hard into the canvas creating long drip lines through the sunset hues. The warmth of Jake's tongue licking and sucking at my core made my legs shake, and my chest burn with the effort to keep my noises inside. He swirled his tongue around my already pulsing clit, and my composure snapped.

The brush clattered to the ground, just narrowly missing his shoulder as my hands slid into his silky hair. He hummed, the vibrations only making my body want more. "Oh my god! Jake," I breathed, head falling back.

He answered my breathless whisper of his name with his teeth, scraping them against my sensitive bud, trying to coax another moan from me. I could practically hear him encouraging me, the sensual whisper of his voice something my mind was well familiar with. Louder. More. Give me more. He pulled me closer again, startling me into leaning back, my hand reaching back to steady myself against the counter.

Jake's hands moved, one sliding up my leg to support my lower back while the other slid up my stomach. He cupped my breast, deft fingers once again working my sensitive nipple through the course material of my shirt. My eyes squeezed shut even tighter, making me see white for a minute as my hands pulled at his hair. "Fuck!" The pleasure building inside me was so close to exploding. "Jake!"

I could feel the corners of his lips lift, smug even now, as his tongue quickened the pace. His blunt nails dug into my back, urging me to let go, to give him the thing he'd been slowly forcing to build inside. "I'm… Shit…" My body was practically shaking now as I dared to look down and meet his eyes. The blue was gone, replaced by black pools of lustful desire. "I'm close."

A single flaming star burned in those dark eyes, a star that seemed to accept my words as some kind of challenge. And he was determined to win. His hand squeezed my breast one last time before disappearing beneath his head, sliding inside me with ease, pumping quickly to match the urgent pace of his tongue as it honed in on my abused clit. My eyes fluttered shut, ragged moans filling my apartment as I begged him, pleading with him to keep going. I could feel how every sound I made, every word I said, affected him.

I came on his fingers and tongue with a cry of his name and a sharp tug on the strands of hair still worn between my fingers. "Jake!"

He licked up every drop of my release before bringing his fingers to his mouth and cleaning them. Once he'd finished he settled back on his feet, grabbing my thighs and squeezing them for a second before he reached over and grabbed my underwear. Smiling, he offered them up. "I believe these are yours."

Ignoring the knowledge that my face was likely redder than the painting in front of us, I snatched them out of his hand. "You don't have to be so smug, you know."

Standing, he shrugged. "No, but it's more fun that way." I tried to stand, nearly tripping as my legs wobbled unsteadily. His smugness only grew as he asked, "Need a hand, princess?"

"No!" I managed to get my underwear back on without falling face-first into the mess of paint that I'd unknowingly made in my orgasmic haze of hands and movement.

Jake whistled, looking at the mess, while I couldn't look anywhere but at him. His hair was standing up, huge chunks of paint staining the dark strands, much brighter shades of red and orange. He turned toward me, looking like he was about to say something snarky, but before he could - and before I could stop myself - I'd taken hold of his shirt and pulled myself up to kiss him.

His lips were stiff at first, surprised by my sudden action, but after a moment had passed, they softened. Jake's hand lifted to cup the back of my head as his lips moved against mine. The light taste of myself lingered on him as my tongue darted out to taste his lips. As he opened his mouth, determined to devour me further, I pulled back.

"I thought we agreed, no kissing," he questioned breathlessly.

"We did..." I scrambled to come up with an excuse better than sorry you just looked so pretty standing in my apartment looking around like an idiot after eating me out. "It just seemed like the best way to thank you for all that hard work." 

Jake fought a smile, dipping his head down to press his lips against mine again. "That one was cause I wanted to."

"Ass."

He caught a glimpse of my handiwork in the mirror and almost snorted laughing. "I think you got more paint on me than you did the canvas!"

I poked at the now-dry paint speckling the sides of his face and stuck in his hair. "Yeah, you're definitely gonna need help getting that out." Tugging him toward my room, "Come on."

Just like with every new space, Jake drank in the sight of my bedroom, curious but respectful. He admired the bed full of pillows and an old pile of half-folded laundry, but the antique wardrobe Quinn thrifted for me held his gaze longer. I watched him from the bathroom doorway, quietly appreciating how naturally he fit into a space I shared with so few. His long fingers ran over the old wood, eyes dazzled by the craftsmanship before him. "Does it live up to your expectations?"

Jake turned his head, eyes dragging down my body. I ducked my head, suddenly too aware of the fact I was only in my old underwear and a slightly too-small tank top covered in dried paint. "Kind of," he said. "I guess I always imagined it'd look like your old room from The Cape. This is more you, though."

"A compliment, I hope," I replied, turning to get my counter cleaned up.

"The highest."

I let the warm water run between my fingers for a minute before turning to look at him. "Shirt off."

Without hesitation, he began tugging the thin white material off. "Thought you'd never ask."

The sight of his chest made me pause, watching every flex and movement with wonder. When his shirt was over his head, I looked away, pulling a stool over to the sink. I set a towel over the edge, acting as a neck pillow for him, and patted the top. "Hop up."

Jake sat down and leaned back, blue eyes shining beneath my bathroom lights as I reached over him and fiddled with the temperature for a moment before letting it fill my palm so I could wet his head.

"It's not too hot, is it?" I asked, looking down at him as I ran my fingers through his damp hair, testing.

Jake looked breathless for a moment, his lips parting ever so slightly as his dark eyes scanned my face before meeting my gaze. "It's fine." The words sounded harsh, but the look on his face told me he hadn't intended for it to be that way. "It feels good."

I smiled, gently massaging his scalp. "I used to do this a lot with Peter and Patrick. They'd always find a way to get gum or something sticky in it. They even got lice once! Patrick swears it was Peter's fault, but of course, Peter claims the opposite."

"Knowing your brothers, it was probably a collective effort."

The laugh that echoed off my bathroom walls was too loud and embarrassing, but Jake seemed to like it. "Probably. Sorry for getting your hair all fucked up."

He rolled his eyes before closing them. "A bit of paint getting clumped in my hair is hardly fucking it up. Should show you the pictures from when Simone used to cut my hair. I looked like one of The Beatles one year."

"Oh my god, please!"

Jake laughed, looking up at me with those eyes. "Raincheck?"

"I'll hold you to it," I warned, returning my focus to working the paint out of his hair. As the comfortable silence pulled me into an odd sense of security, my eyes drifted once again down his bare chest.

Training with Patrick had resulted in Jake's arms growing lean with well-defined muscle. I could tell by the stiffness of his abdomen that my brother wasn't skipping other workouts in favor of his arms. "Like what you see?"

My eyes quickly looked anywhere but him, a bashful smile tugging at my lips as I turned, reaching for some shampoo. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Suuurreee," he drew out with a grin. "Feel free to stare as long as you like. I don't mind."

"Shut up," I mumbled, lathering the shampoo in my hands before massaging it into his hair.

His eyes shut, and his whole body relaxed with a lovely sound. "You're gonna put me to sleep."

"Good," I giggled. "Then I won't have to listen to you talk."

"Want to ogle my muscles in peace, do you?" He teased.

"Maybe." I looked back down at the tattoos that stained his pale skin, finally getting a chance to admire them closer. "I'm more interested in the tattoos, though."

Jake smiled wider, lifting his head slightly to look down at them. "Should have guessed. All ladies love the tattoos."

"Would you tell me about them?"

"Maybe." I gave him a look, and he instantly crumbled. "I will if you tell me about yours."

"All of mine or just the ones you know about?"

His brow rose, head tilting to the side and bonking against my sink. "There's more?"

With a smug smirk, I shrugged. "Maybe."

An amused scoff bubbled from his throat, and he asked, "Am I gonna have to guess?"

"I'll show you one if you want," I replied. "After you tell me about your tattoos."

“Ask away, princess. I’m an open book.”

My eyes took in the artwork that etched his skin, carefully considering my choices before I hummed. "What about this one?" I asked, removing one of my hands from his hair to poke the flowers on his upper arm.

Jake chuckled. "Drunk bet with an old buddy of mine. I lost."

"And the band?"

"Another impulsive decision made while half hammered."

I moved my other hand, leaning over him to touch the anchor on his other arm. "What about this one?"

His smile faded, and the light left his eyes. "I got that one for my mom. Or in spite of her, maybe… I don't…" He sighed. "She loved The Cape. Loved the ocean and ships. We had so many of the dumb things around the house. It's one of the only things I remember about it before moving in with Simone's family."

Nodding, I stoked the soft skin. "It's good to remember little things like that. Little things that made you happy once." My finger dragged down his arm, smoothing over the mermaid. "Now I get to ask you: why a mermaid?"

He shrugged, eyes still holding that far-off look. "I've kind of always liked them. Used to think it was a Cape thing. When I was a kid, Simone made up some story about my mom being a mermaid that had to return to the sea. It was… Comforting, I guess, at the time. After a while, it started getting harder and harder to remember what she looked like. Whenever I'd think of my mom Simone's face was all I could see."

I shoved down my disgust for Simone and what I knew she'd done with her position as Jake's maternal figure. "That's sad, but it makes some sense. You were young. Simone stepped up and raised you, so, of course, you'd picture her when thinking of a mom."

"Yeah," he replied. "I guess. Anyway, I got the mermaid because of that story she'd told me. She'll never admit this, but when she got back from France… After her divorce, she got a matching one."

On instinct, my nose scrunched at the nauseous feeling that came with his all-too-innocent reveal. "I'll be honest, I can't really picture Simone with a tattoo."

"She hates them," Jake answered, laughing. A look, fond, and if I'd been as naive as I used to be, something I would have thought was full of love. "But she got it for me. Something to show me that she'd never abandon me again."

Something to placate your rightful anger at her for leaving you in the first place. I bit my tongue. "What about this one?" I thumbed the words over his ribcage. "Together/Or?"

Jake's momentary joy dwindled slightly as he ground his teeth together. I was about to tell him he didn't need to share it with me, but then he spoke, "I got that one while Simone was in France with her asshole husband. Before she left, she said she and I were destined to be together, no matter how much space separated us. Together or separate. It made more sense in my head."

This time it was my turn to clench my jaw as I tried to think of something nice to say. "It looks good. It might hold some… Less pleasant memories, but as long as it brings you some kind of peace now, that's all that matters."

"Yeah," he said softly, eyes refocusing on me as I finished rinsing the shampoo from his hair and turned to grab a towel. Once I'd dried his hair a bit, examining it closely to make sure I got all the paint out, Jake smiled. "My turn."

Tossing the towel in the hamper, I held out my arms. "Ask away. I’m an open book."

Jake took a step forward, reaching out to push my hair away from my shoulder to run his fingers down my spine. "Might as well start with this one."

"The snake." I smirked up at him. "Your favorite."

"Can't decide which one's my favorite until I know about all of them."

I hummed in response before answering the question his fingers asked. "I got it after I'd been clean for a year. A symbol of, well, shedding my old life… and all the pain that came with it."

He understood, on some deep level, Jake knew exactly why something as simple as a tattoo would help purge the darkest of things clinging to the soul. His fingers moved again, sliding down my arm to the tiger. "And this one?"

"My first tattoo. I got it when I came to live with my dad. He used to say I was like a tiger. I had the rage and the claws meant for killing, but inside I was just a big cat. It was also the first time Quinn and I met Prue. We were sixteen."

"Quinn get one?" He asked.

I bit my lip to contain my laugh. "She got a peach on her ass with juicy inked in the leaf."

He laughed. "That sounds like her." The feel of his fingers sliding along my hip, tracing the intricate lines of the mermaid tail, felt too soft, too good. "I already know the story behind this one. With your mom and all."

"Yeah," I answered. "It's still pretty, though."

"It's very pretty," he reassured me, body sliding closer to mine as he bent slightly to tap my knee. "And this one. You said it was a reminder… That there are worse things than death."

I gulped, my jaw clenching and my body feeling tight as I nodded. "You remember François?"

Jake's face fell slightly, most likely remembering the hour he spent holding me as I sobbed in the stairwell. "Yeah."

"It's for him. Kind of. It's a reminder that things you love can get taken away from you if you're not careful." I cleared my throat, desperately trying to keep from crying again. "He lost the things he loved because of me, and so… When I got the chance, I got the tattoo. It helped me cope with it all, I think. At least a little."

There was a moment of silence before Jake spoke again. "It might hold some… Less pleasant memories, but as long as it brings you some kind of peace now, that's all that matters."

I laughed softly at the use of my own words against me. "Touche."

"Now, what are the others?"

"I have cherries on my ass." I held up my finger and stopped him in his tracks. "Quinn made me get them!"

He nodded, brows raised, and a poorly concealed smirk plastered on his face. "Of course she did. Does it say juicy, too, or?"

Damn it. I looked away, blushing slightly as I committed to telling him the truth. I owed him that much after his honesty with me. "It says ‘bite me’ in the stems."

"Oh, I've gotta see that!" He replied, laughing.

"Ah! I have two more!"

Leaning back slightly, he gestured for me to continue. "Let's hear it. I wanna make an informed decision."

"Well, there's one on my chest, above the heart. Canis Major. It's a constellation. My dad's favorite one. Each star represents someone I care about. Sirius, the heart of it, is my dad. Muliphein, the head, is Peter. Mirzam, the front foot, is Ozzy. Furud, the back foot, is Nana and Abdul. Wezen, the ass, is Patrick. The tail, Aldura, is Quinn and Prue. And there's this tiny cluster of stars in the chest area, by the shoulder, called M41. That's Dom and his lot."

"Do I get a star?" He asked only half teasing

I smiled wider. "You can share the ass with Patrick."

His eyes showed the joy his face didn't as he nodded along. "Last one."

"On the ribs," I said. "It's a big koi fish. A simple ode to an old friend in Japan. Now, let’s get this over with. Which one do you want to see?”

Jake considered his choices for a moment before taking a slight step forward and placing his hands on my hips. “Show me the fish.”

“The fish?”

“Yep.”

“And here I thought you’d never pass up a chance to see my ass.”

He shrugged, a gleam in his eyes highlighting the blue. “Oh, I fully intend on seeing it eventually, but I figured I should save the best for last.”

I tugged my shirt up just enough to expose the tattoo that lined my ribs. “Uh-huh, whatever you need to tell yourself, tough guy.”

His attention quickly turned to the simple linework. His hands squeezed my hips for a second before one moved, fingers sliding along the dark ink, curving with my rib in a feather-light touch that made my body tingle. I flinched with a giggle, meeting his questioning gaze with a look. “Tickles.”

“Ah,” he replied with a smirk that was all too familiar.

I lifted my finger to his face, grabbing his hand quickly. “Don’t even think about it.”

Jake scoffed playfully. “I would never.”

My eyes flickered down to his lips, admiring the soft curve of them for a moment, wanting to kiss him again, before I laughed it off, reaching off to the side to hand him his shirt. “Here. It’s probably got a few paint stains, sorry.”

He took it from me, examining it for a quick moment before shrugging as he threw it over his head. “I think it’s an improvement.”

We headed back out to my living room, standing in front of the painting that had suffered from Jake’s overactive tongue. “Not my best work.”

“I think it’s perfect.” He smiled at me. “Showcases both our talents.”

I rolled my eyes at him, moving to pick up the trays and cups of water left out. “You can have it if you want.”

Humming, he seemed to consider my offer. "So, who taught you to paint anyway?" He asked, suddenly, finally looking away from our masterpiece.

“Softly now,” Rada said, gently pulling my brush back slightly. “We want the colors to blend. It’s not a fight, Lyubov'.”

I laughed, following her instructions to help the colors meld together. “Who do you think would win in a fight, blue or red?”

Rada wiped a small dot of paint off her uniform and polished the glasses beside me, smiling at my ridiculous question. Still, she looked around and leaned in close as if it was some sort of master secret. “Purple.”

The two of us laughed louder as she pressed a kiss to my head. “Purple is a nice color.”

“It’s my favorite color,” she admitted. “But don’t tell the others.”

“I won’t,” I answered.

"A cleaning lady," I suddenly replied without fully intending to. "She was an immigrant from Russia, where she was an art teacher."

Jake smiled at my openness. "Did she teach you Russian, too?"

Nodding, I laughed to myself. "Yeah. It took a while, but she made learning it fun." I laughed more, tears starting to build in my eyes. "She used to put random Post-it notes all over the penthouse, labeling random objects. I ran around like a dog to find them all and show her I knew the right words."

"You lived in a penthouse?" He asked, and I froze. "Was that when you and your mom traveled?"

"No." Shaking my head, I stood, shakily gathering up the rest of my things and taking them to the sink where my dishes from earlier still sat. I counted my breaths in my head and flexed my fingers to keep the numbness and the memories away.

I was thankful that Jake was who he was because even though I knew he had a list of questions a mile long, he said nothing. He stood up and moved beside me, quietly helping me wash the dishes and clean out the painting supplies and stack them on my drying rack. After the task in front of us was done, he smiled, tucking my hair behind my ear with a still-damp finger, making me squirm. "Thanks for the painting lesson, princess."

"It was hardly a lesson," I replied. "I bet you can't tell me a single thing I said."

"I remember the term 'wet on wet'."

"Do you remember what it means?"

"No," he admitted with a sly grin. "But regardless of how much information stuck in this thick head of mine, I enjoyed hearing you talk about it."

I could feel the heat rising to my face as I bashfully shrugged. "Thanks for listening. It…" Pausing, I breathed out a soft sigh and smiled up at him. "It means a lot."

Jake nodded, a look of understanding filling his face with a youthful glow. "I know."

"Next time, it's your turn."

"What?" His eyes widened slightly, his brow arching, the dirty implication of my words clearly on his mind.

I rolled my eyes, smiling wider. "To teach me about photography. I believe the exact phrase you used at Nana's was, 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours'?" Gesturing to the paintings that lay scattered around my living room, I continued, "I showed you mine."

With an understanding nod, he replied, "Well, it's only fair."

The longer I stared at him, standing in my apartment, looking at me like I was the real piece of art, my body longed for that dream to come to life. I wanted Jake, not just to know what sleeping with him would be like, but the fun and soft moments that could follow as well. “Do you-”

His phone cut off my train of thought, and the look in his eyes, slightly stressed, slightly relieved, told me in seconds who it was. He smiled at me, a silent apology for the interruption. “Hey, Simone. No, I’m not home yet.” There was a long pause as she spoke to him over the phone. “Yeah. Yeah. I’ll see you soon.”

Once he hung up, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Duty calls?”

“Sorry, she needs some help with something.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I… had fun tonight.”

“Me too.”

“See you at work?” I asked, tapping his foot with mine.

Jake nodded, a soft smile reassuring me that whatever Simone had called him for wasn’t going to cause him any stress. “Yeah. Goodnight, Lena.”

 I lifted myself up onto the tips of my toes and kissed his cheek. “Goodnight, Jake.”

*

From across the street he watched the man clad in leather and a simple t-shirt exit the apartment. The biker by the door smiled at him, shaking his hand and offering him some small conversation before he walked away down the street. He could just barely make out her shaded figure through the curtains as she moved through her atrocious apartment to turn off the light. “Should we follow him?”

Tony glanced away from the windows, following the man down the street with his eyes as he smoked his cigar. He said nothing, just gestured simply with his hand knowing the man beside him would understand his wishes.

“We should go,” Jules replied. “Before the other ones come down this street again.”

“Yes, we should. Wouldn’t want to rouse the old junkyard dog just yet.” He put the rest of his cigar out with his foot and smiled at the building. “Sweet dreams, baby girl.”

Once they’d walked a block or so away Tony unlocked his car, waiting with an annoyed look as one of his smaller paid men ran up to him, panting. “We found him, Sir.”

A cold smile spread on his lips. “Excellent.”