#maybe next week forreal

[autistic-katara]

u guys won’t believe how normal i acted yesterday when one of the kids i volunteer with was making miraculous references during part of a game

[venusrobots]

i forgot that i actually enjoy running 🧍🏻‍♀️

[anonsturniolo]

behind the scenes — matt sturniolo

paring — matt sturniolo x f!reader

genre — smut, coworkers to lovers/enemies to lovers

word count — ???

You let out a slight huff, staring at your reflection intensely. It was opening night for the haunted theme park and your makeup wasn’t turning out exactly how you wanted it. Today you were dressed up as a darker clown, your long hair in high pig tails, messy clown makeup that actually took you hours to do.

And now your extra long eyelashes won’t stay on. You rip them off your eyelids, wincing slightly at the sudden pull. Setting them down on the black vanity in front of you, you’re ready to give up.

“Need some help, baby?” A seductive voice whispers into your ear, making you jump in surprise. Your eyes meet Matt’s smug ones in the mirror, and you spin in your chair to face him.

“Jesus, Matt.” You glare at him, your hand shooting out to slap his arm. He just laughs to himself as he takes a seat in the open chair next to you.

Matt had just started working with you nearly 2 weeks ago, right when the season started. The fair you worked for was typically set up for the whole month of October, giving you a break from your “normal” job.

You on one hand loved it, but anytime Matt came around? You questioned why you even liked it here. There was something about him that just got under your skin, maybe it was his cocky attitude. Or the fact he was so undeniably attractive.

Especially in his joker costume.

His makeup was always perfectly messy, his hair brushed back exposing his forehead and letting his blue eyes shine bright in contrast. He never spray painted his hair green, claiming that would just “ruin his look”, but what it really meant was he wanted to look good for the countless of girls he’d pursue.

“I can help you, forreal.” Matt muttered from beside you, and you glanced down at the eyelashes.

You turn to face him with a cocked brow, “And how do you know how to put them on?” You cryptically asked, making him roll his eyes.

“I’ve seen enough girls put them on, don’t see why I can’t figure it out.” He shrugs, before leaning forward with the eyelash in hand. You finally lower your eyes, giving him better access to apply the band as close to your lash line as he could get.

You sit there awkwardly as he fiddles with the eyelash, and although you hate him; your body flushes with heat as you can feel his warm breath fanning across your face. When Matt gently grips your cheeks, turning your head to get a better view, you nearly bite back a moan.

You couldn’t help it, you loved to be manhandled.

“There.” Matt mutters, extending to his full height and admiring his handy work. You turn to face the mirror, surprised when you take a closer look at your eyelashes. They were perfectly applied.

You fight back a frown, refusing to meet Matt’s eyes in the mirror, “Thanks, Matt.” You sigh, shuffling off of your chair now fully ready to venture around the park and get some scares in.

Matt lets out a groan as you pass him, making you turn back to give him a questioning glance, “You look so sexy tonight in that dress, can’t get over it.” He boldly tells you, to which you flip him off and add an extra sway to your hips, knowing he was watching you leave.

“Fucking Christ..”

Confidence surged through you, giggling as you popped out and startled guest after guest. A couple hours had passed, and you were now sat on a bench as you plucked at some cotton candy. You were busy watching a family from a distance as they got scared by someone jumping out of a bush to notice Matt approaching you.

“Hey.” Matt greets you, sitting down beside you and ignoring the glare you sent his way. You nearly forgot about him, and how he was making you feel earlier, but it all came crashing down on you as he placed a warm hand on your upper thigh.

You look from his eyes to his hand a few times, before you turn away from him. You know there’s a cocky smirk on his stupid face, so you know better than to look back to him.

“Just gonna ignore me now?” Matt asks, and you relish in the way he huffs when you don’t give him any attention. Just as you’re about to place another piece of the cotton candy in your mouth, it’s ripped from you grasp completely.

“What the hell!?” You cry out, your eyes finally meeting Matt’s as he throws away the sugary treat in the trash can next to him. “Matt, what the fuck is your issue?”

Matt grabbed your arm firmly, his tight grasp shocking you. He glanced back at you, his eyes flaring with anger. Wordlessly, he dragged you back to the dressing room the two of you were in hours prior.

“What is my issue? What’s your fucking issue?” Matt snarled, his voice deep with anger, “Givin’ me all this sass, ignoring me.” He kissed his teeth briefly, waiting for a response.

You crossed your arms defensively, “I don’t have an issue.” You insist, and you hate the way Matt is staring at you. As if he knew every thought you’ve ever had, like he felt how you were already dripping because of him.

A cocky smirk crosses his lips, he takes a taunting step towards you, “Y’know, I’ve always had a thing for clowns…” he trails off, raising a hand to lightly tug on one of your pigtails. Your breath hitched at his sultry voice, and how his eyes slowly traveled down your body.

“Matt.” You whisper, grabbing the hand that was ghostly tracing your waist, halting his movements, “I don’t wanna be just another girl on your list.” You explain once his eyes meets yours.

“You won’t be,” he insists, twisting his hand in your grasp to hold your hand, “I’ve wanted you for so long…” he trailed off, his eyes zoning in on your lips.

“Those other girls? Never slept with them.” Your surprised eyes meet his, the question on the tip of your tongue, “I only talked to them when you were around, thought I could make you jealous.” Instantly your lips were smashed against his, your hands threaded through his hair and tugging him closer.

Matt let out a soft grunt at the sensation, easily picking you up and placing you on the vanity behind you. The kiss deepened, the two of you hungry for each other. You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, causing you to tug on his shirt.

“Want it off,” you mumbled against his lips, nearly whining at the loss of him as he leaned back and whipped it off. His face paint was smeared with black, due to your makeup.

His lips smashed against yours once again, his hands grabbing at the supple flesh of your thighs. Your hands have a mind of their own, trailing up and down his chest, exploring his exposed skin for the first time.

Matt finally broke the kiss, leaving trails of kisses down your neck as his hands began to bunch up the fabric of your dress. Hastily you shove his hands away, ignoring his confused stare as you slide the garment over your head. You’re left in a black lacy set, and your tights.

“Goddamn..” he muttered, his hands instantly cupping your breasts as he kisses you again. The lust between the two of you poured into the kiss, seemingly to not get enough. Matt’s skillful hands snuck around and up your back, unhooking your bra, and gently taking the straps off your shoulders.

A soft gasp left you once your nipples were exposed to the cold air, your hips slightly bucking in search of relief. You begin to fumble with Matt’s belt to speed things along, and he’s quick to undo his pants and shove them down without breaking away from your lips.

Now left in his boxers, his hands find their way to your chest, tweaking and pulling at your nipples. You moan into his mouth as the pleasure begins to wash over you, your core clenching around nothing.

“Wanna taste you,” Matt mumbles against your lips, making you pull back.

You start to pull down his boxers, “Next time, please, I need you.” You seductively whine, and Matt nearly cums at your tone and pleading expression.

He smirks down at you, his fingers finally making their way to where you need him the most, ghosting over your clit above your panties.

“Y’need me, huh?” He taunts, and you nod your head rapidly in response. With his rock hard cock exposed, you take great pleasure in wrapping your hand around his base, slowly stroking it. When your fingers make contact with his slit, his hips jerk and a moan flies past his lips.

You lean in close to him, “Sounds like you need me too.” Matt doesn’t reply, just threads his hand under the hem of your underwear and pulls, breaking the thin fabric. You were too turned on to care, and you watch as he pulls you forward slightly so he’d have better access.

He removes your hand from his cock, his eyes falling down to your wet cunt, and he begins to slowly rock his hips letting his head bump into your clit. Your head falls back against the mirror, whimpers leaving your lips.

“Please, Matt.” You pathetically whine, lifting your head to meet his eyes. He slowly begins to push inside of you both of your jaws dropping as he bottoms out. The look he gives you is possessive, and his hips start snapping into yours at an animalistic pace.

“Matt!” You cry out once he hits that special spot, so deep inside of you. Your hands dig into his shoulders, causing him to let out deep grunts when he feels your nails pierce his skin.

“Mhm, that’s right baby,” he groans, removing one hand from your hips to rub harsh circles on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. The band deep within you was forming, begging to snap.

“Feels s’good…” Matt trailed off, making you look up at him through watery eyes. His eyes were focused on where your bodies connected, relishing in the way your cunt greedily swallowed his cock.

“G-Gonna cum.” You warned, making Matt look up at you. His eyes searched yours as the end neared, his lips smashing down onto yours in a feverish manner. He wasn’t ready for this to end, but he also knew this wouldn’t be the only time it happened.

“Be a good girl and cum f’me,” he grunted softly, feeling the way your gummy walls clenched onto him, “Cum on my cock baby.” He urged, feeling his impending orgasm near the edge.

“Matt!” You pathetically cry, the band within you finally snapping once Matt placed a firm hand on your lower stomach. Pure bliss washed over you as Matt fucked you through your orgasm, sending shocks of hot pleasure through your shaking body.

“Where do you want it?” Matt groaned, his grip on your hips tightened.

“Inside.” You said whine out, your hands pawing at his shoulders as the pleasure coursed over your body for the last time.

Matt’s thrusts grew erratic and sloppy, a telltale sign he was close. You clenched down rather hard onto him as your orgasm faded, immediately you could feel his release painting your walls white as he continued to fuck into you to ride out his orgasm.

You look up to his face, finally coming back to earth, to see his eyes clenched shut and his jaw slacked as the pleasure consumed him. His hips slowed to a stop, all that could be heard was heavy breathing as you both caught your breath.

“That was…” You trailed off, wincing as Matt slowly pulled out of you. He was quick to grab a towel, gently cleaning you off.

“I’m taking you to dinner tomorrow night.” He spoke without looking up at you, sliding your underwear back on.

You cocked a brow at him, “Are you now?”

Matt stares at you blankly, “Did I not just fuck the attitude outta you? Need more?”

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 9

[chap eight] | [all chapters here] | [chap ten]

Summary | You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

Warnings & Notes | fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

Author's Note | Me?? Taking another unexpected writing hiatus?? Never. But forreal, you all know how life gets. So, as a treat here's a longer chapter (that may or may not be a bit rambly) to make up for my absence. As I wrote, this just kept going and going, so I hope you all enjoy the extra few thousand words lmao

WC | 8.6k

Chapter Nine

The rest of Monday was absolute shit following your fight with Eddie. After spending the entirety of lunch break hiding out under the bleachers in an attempt to pull yourself together, facing your peers for the rest of the day was the last thing you wanted. The trek to your fifth period class was like some walk of shame, as if you were wearing some damned scarlet letter; it felt as if the entire school was watching you, waiting to see if you’d make yourself look like an idiot again or if you’d erupt. You had never felt so scrutinized before, so susceptible to judgment, but you fought tooth and nail not to give people the reaction they were hoping for.

The next day wasn’t any better. Once again, you felt the weight of everyone’s attention, you felt the pressure of all their judgment. Was this how it felt to be in Eddie’s shoes, how it felt to be a total social outcast? It was even shittier than you could have predicted, and you found yourself questioning the stupid little plan you and Eddie had been hatching that led to this.

It only grew worse as the day went on. Third period was arguably the most frustrating - you were stuck sitting next to Eddie for a whole damn hour, and he didn’t speak a single word to you. You didn’t even think it was possible for that boy to go quiet for longer than a few minutes, yet he proved you wrong, keeping his mouth zipped tight and his eyes on anything but you. Being ignored by Eddie caused your anger to flare, and if you had less self control you would’ve said something about it, would’ve given him a piece of your mind, but your frustrations had kept you, too, surprisingly silent. Or maybe it was the fear of looking stupid again.

Wednesday continued much the same way, although you felt less frustrated by everyone’s critical glances and Eddie’s willful ignorance of your existence. You thought maybe you were starting to get your shit together, that you had finally combatted all your pent up emotions and pushed them all the way down to the pit of your heart, where you'd just ignore them like you did with any challenging feelings. Hell, you were even beginning to fool yourself into thinking that you were feeling better, though deep down you knew that wasn’t true.

The worst that the week had to offer came during lunch that day, though, when you foolishly tried to approach Duncan and demand to know what the hell his deal was. You thought you had pulled yourself together well enough - you spoke with a sharp tone and a cool demeanor, but he and his gang of friends simply mocked your attempts at an argument. They did everything they could to make you feel small, but you kept it together, retreating from their harsh words with all the poise you could muster, hoping that your anger wasn’t too obvious. Their laughter and whispers wouldn't get to you, or at least you'd never show it - the whole school already saw you vulnerable once, it was not about to happen again.

 Consider your reputation officially fucking ruined. 

The thing that hurt more than any of their insults and derogatory words, however, was the look on Eddie’s face as you two met eyes across the lunch room, the way he watched you as you tried to march away from Duncan with your pride still intact. Eddie had been witness to the entire shitty interaction, you realized as you kept your eyes locked on his; the worry and concern so clear on his face caused a crack in your otherwise icy exterior, and you had to rip your gaze away so he couldn't see the hurt in your expression. You nearly broke down the very moment you were out of the cafeteria, the look on Eddie’s face burned into your mind.

The rest of the day was a fucking blur, and you were so emotionally worked up that you were grateful to leave school and go to the one place that could normally calm you down - the ice rink. Wednesday was always your skating day, and today you felt like you needed it more desperately than usual, thankful to spend a few hours on the ice after school. In all your moments of frustration, skating always did wonders to even you out, reminding you why you still enjoyed it after all these years - it helped calm your nerves, clear your head, and relax your heart. It helped to de-escalate your emotions, to make you think straight, and after how hard the past couple of days were, you desperately needed that.

Your anger at Duncan was still burning hot as ever, and even as you slowly relaxed you were still desperate to get back at him, not above stooping to his level. You’d have to corner him when he was alone, without his posse to back him up - then you could really hurt him with your scathing words. You also couldn’t help but wonder just how involved Amelia and Janet were in all this shit - if anything, this stunt was Amelia’s idea, but Janet? She couldn’t have been this cold and heartless; or maybe you just desperately hoped she wasn't.

As you looped around the ice far less elegantly than you normally would, you tried your damnedest not to think about Eddie, as if ignoring the thought of him would somehow remove you from fault. Now that you’ve actually had time to think about it, you knew you’d been mean to him just for the sake of it, just to let your frustrations out on someone. A younger you wouldn't have cared that you mistreated someone, would've just waved it off like a brat and moved on with your life. Hell, only a few months ago, you probably would've still found it comical to talk down to someone like Eddie the way that you did.

But you were not that girl anymore, although you also weren't emotionally ready to acknowledge that Eddie didn’t deserve your vitriol; after all, you were mean to just about everyone, what made him any different? You knew that you’d treated him badly simply because it was easy, because he was the only person there and you needed to let it out. The less prideful part of you knew that you were wrong for that, but that side of you had thus far been outweighed by your own stubbornness. Now, however, you were starting to think maybe you needed to do something about it.

On the one hand, you considered that you had no obligation to make things right with Eddie, and yet, something about that upset you. Were you really so terrible and bitchy that you’d avoid apologizing to him? Were you going to simply ignore him, if not treat him even worse than you’d already had been? That’s certainly something you would have done in the past, but somehow Eddie fucking Munson had made you a little less harsh than you once were.

No, you didn’t need to make this right, but you wanted to. Somehow, Eddie had undeniably grown on you, and at this rate he was virtually the only person you had on your side (that is, of course, if you don’t take into account his ignoring you the past two days). If anyone had even suggested a month ago that you’d be getting along so well with Eddie Munson, you probably would have gagged. What could you and a guy like him possibly have in common, what could you two possibly bond over? These were questions that you were still seeking answers to, even as you drove home after hours of skating at the rink.

Perhaps it was your sense of humor, so much more aligned with his than either of you had expected. Or maybe it was the effortlessness with which you could talk to one another, like you’d already known each other far longer than a few weeks. Hell, maybe it was that Eddie challenged you without even being mean about it, how he so simply gave you new perspectives to take into account and made you reconsider things you thought you knew.

It was strange to realize that, in your own way, you two had become almost-friends quite rapidly. Was that normal? Did other people feel so at ease with someone they’d known for only a few short weeks? You couldn’t remember what it was like when you became friends with Amelia or Janet or anyone else that ran in your former circle - had you bonded with them just as easily as you had with Eddie? Something in you suspected no.

But you tried to avoid thinking about that too much, because you certainly weren’t going to dig into it any deeper.

As you walked through the front door of your home, the silence of the house confirmed to you that your father was still, supposedly, at work. The only time you heard the buzz of electronics throughout the house was when he was around, because your mom never left a television or radio on unnecessarily. You’d bet that she was probably in the kitchen with the radio down low, just a bit of background noise to keep her company as she prepped for dinner. Or maybe she was on the phone in the home office, chatting away with one of her friends about the latest gossip in town.

You hated to admit it, but you and your mom were both used to your father not being around often - most days, he was gone before you left for school and didn’t return home until well into the evening. This had been the family’s routine for years now, so your father’s lack of interest in spending time at home no longer phased you. His absence was just as routine as your school schedule or your mom’s biweekly nail appointments.

You found it far more surprising when he was around - in fact, it almost dared to make you suspicious of him. Because you figured he never seemed interested in spending time with you or your mom, you couldn’t help but speculate what would prompt him to suddenly spend every night at the dinner table for a couple weeks, or to even suggest the family go out together on the weekend. You assumed it was some form of guilt - for a while now, you had yourself convinced that he was having an affair, so perhaps his brief bouts of attentiveness were his measly efforts to reconcile his infidelity with himself.

Of course, you’d never dare even imply this suspicion to your mother, for all you knew it could send her spiraling. And a part of you was convinced that perhaps she’d had her suspicions as well.

As you closed the front door behind you and slid out of your sneakers, you had every intention of running off to your room to avoid your mom entirely. After the week you’d had thus far, you’d rather be left alone, you didn’t want to get caught up in her usual superficial conversations. But before you could even take a step towards the staircase, your mom zipped out of the kitchen towards you, an eager shine in her eyes that almost made her appear younger. You gave her a quizzical look, taking a step back as she got just a little closer than you cared for; even with your parents, you preferred people stay at arm’s length.

“How was your day, hon?” She asked as if in anticipation of something. Your face twisted with even more confusion - what the hell was she so excited about? Was she really that oblivious to the funk you’d been in the past three days?

You stepped around your mom, intending to end this conversation quickly so you could disappear to your room. Your tone was dismissive as you replied coldly, “Not great.”

Her joy seemed to falter a little as she followed just a step behind you; clearly, whatever she wanted to talk about seemed to be important to her, “What do you mean?”

You paused to look back at her again, your agitation clear on your face as you studied her. You weren’t certain, but it seemed as if she were expecting a different response - a particular response. What exactly was she fishing for?

“Today sucked. Just like the rest of this shitty week.” Your tone was cold as you raised your brow, hoping that your attitude may deter her from asking anymore questions. Your callous word choice caused her to pull a face, studying your expression as if she were seeing you for the first time in a long time. For a moment, you thought maybe she’d actually act like your mother, you thought maybe she’d ask you what was wrong and offer a shoulder to cry on.

“I figured it’d be good,” she started with concern in her voice, putting on something of an encouraging smile, “considering the assembly on Monday.”

Dread immediately washed over you, her words causing your heart to drop into your stomach - how did she know about the assembly? The school wouldn’t have called the parents about it, they didn’t care that much. Maybe one of her friends had heard from their kid and then told her? Possibly, but not the most likely. So, how did she know?

All you could do was stare for a few tense moments, fighting to keep in all the feelings you’d just worked through on the ice rink. Your jaw tightened as you swallowed hard, attempting to quiet your mind and take a deep breath. Your intense eyes burned into your mother, who seemed to recognize that what she’d just said may have been a mistake.

“How do you know about that?” You probed with an edge to your voice, feeling as if all your emotions were going to come spilling out of you at any minute.

Although she appeared hesitant, your mom kept her composure, persisting to act bright in the foolish hopes that it would help you relax, “Amelia called while you were out.”

If your heart could drop any further, it would have. You began to feel almost out of body as you started to piece it all together, already realizing Amelia’s fucking game. She knew you wouldn’t have mentioned your dissolved friendship to your mother because of your distant relationship with your parents, and now she was using it against you. To what end? Simply to torment you more?

Receiving no response from you, your mother smiled encouragingly, still trying her hardest to keep things chipper as she continued, “She wanted to know if I’d like to be a chaperone for homecoming. She seemed so excited that both of you were nominated for homecoming queen!”

Your jaw clenched in anger, eyes growing harsher as they burnt into your mother. You had no reason to be mad at her, but at that moment your rage was coming back up, clawing its way out of you. It took everything in your power not to shout expletives in her face.

So, you turned away from her, trying to collect yourself by taking a few deep breaths. From over your shoulder, your mom continued, trying in vain to understand what was going on with you, “Honey, what’s wrong? This should be exciting news.”

You whipped around angrily, but bit your tongue as you two stared at one another, you in vexation and your mom in concern. You took one more deep breath while rolling your eyes, looking away again.

“Did Amelia tell you who I was nominated with? Or that we haven’t spoken a word to each other in nearly two weeks?” As your frustration bubbled, you met her eyes again, “Or that I was only nominated as some shitty prank? Did she mention that I ran out of the gym like a fucking coward because of how humiliated I felt?”

Your mother’s face was awash with concern as she looked between your eyes, and for a moment you really did think she’d comfort you, in fact, you were almost hoping for it. But that was quickly squashed, “Will you please watch your language? You don’t have to get so worked up.”

The upset on your face only increased - despite everything else you said, your language was the thing that concerned her most? You scoffed with frustration, shaking your head in disbelief as you all but shoved past her, keeping your wild eyes away from hers.

“You don’t even care!” You said venomously, stomping back towards your belongings left by the front door. Haphazardly, you shoved your feet into your shoes and dug around for your keys, “I’m not good right now, mom, and all you’re worried about is my fucking language! Do you care how I’m feeling?”

With a flustered look, your mom approached you, “Of course I care, but I can’t even understand you anymore! You’ve been so different recently, so much more distant. How am I supposed to know what’s going on if you won’t tell me?”

You simply shook your head, throwing your bag back on your shoulder once you had your keys. As you swung open the front door, it bounced off the wall, causing your mother to gasp at the aggressive act.

“Where are you going!?” She insisted while following you outside. You didn’t dare look back, marching towards your car as your anger continued to bubble over.

“Anywhere but here!” As you whipped around to the driver side door, you finally looked at your mother, who lingered on the front steps with a disappointed and confused expression. You were sure you looked absolutely wild and irate as you flung open the car door, carelessly tossing your bag inside and holding your mother’s gaze.

You could see that she was trying to make sense of the chaos happening right now, trying her best to keep it together as if that would calm you down now after everything that just happened. She wasn’t used to seeing you like this, so emotional and out of control - she’d seen you angrier these past couple weeks than you’d been your entire fucking life.

“Please just come back inside.” She tried earnestly, but you were too far gone to hear any of it. You ripped your gaze from hers and slammed the car door once you were settled into the seat, zipping out of the driveway fast enough that you nearly hit the mailbox.

You didn’t make it far, though, having to pull over only a minute later because you realized you were on the verge of crying. Fuck, when was the last time that had happened? You were never the type to get emotional like this, but shit, you’d had a stressful week. You had to catch your breath, to hold back your tears of anger, slamming your fists on the steering wheel a few times as if that could make everything better. You didn’t dare let a single tear roll down your face, but they were so welled up in your eyes that you could barely see, forcing you to blink and wipe them away.

What the hell were you doing? Where did you expect to go? These melodramatics felt fucking ridiculous, and you tried to convince yourself you were freaking out over nothing, although your emotions were clearly telling you otherwise. You couldn’t keep acting like this, you wouldn’t allow it - it wasn’t you, and it made you feel weak.

But shit, you felt like your world had been crashing down around you all week, and it was impossible to keep it together right now. So, you pounded your fists against the dashboard, hissing foul words while continuing to fight back everything that was swirling in your chest. You were certain that if any of your neighbors walked by your haphazardly parked car, they’d think you were having a total mental break. And maybe you were; fuck if you knew. You weren’t exactly thinking clearly right now.

After what felt like an eternity, you’d exhausted all your rage, dejectedly catching your breath and attempting to regain your composure. Shit, what were you going to do now? There’s no way in hell you’d go back home - you weren’t ready to deal with your mother again so soon. Or worse, your father, whose temper would simply set you off again.

As you swallowed down the lump in your throat, you couldn’t help but think of your fight with Eddie, and without any hesitation you accepted that right now you missed him. If you weren't so emotional, you'd have stopped to consider how strange that was. Maybe the past few days wouldn’t have been such shit if you’d just been nicer to him; maybe this was karma at work, making you miserable for how you treated him.

You had to apologize to Eddie. Right fucking now.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

As you drove through Forest Hills, you realized you’d never once set foot in a trailer park before. Looking out your windshield at the dark street, you were certain that one trailer home would maybe fill only two bedrooms of your own home. How people lived in such close quarters was something you couldn’t even comprehend, and on a normal night maybe you would’ve lingered on that thought. But considering that you came here on a mission, you were unable to become distracted; no, the anxiety that was rapidly growing in your chest kept you laser focused on the task you set out on.

It wasn’t until you reached this side of Hawkins that your fear began to mount - should you really be showing up to Eddie’s place unannounced? Is this terrible timing? What if his uncle was home? The further into Forest Hills you drove, the more worried you became. For all you knew, Eddie would slam the door in your face, tell you to fuck off and leave him alone. And after all the shit you’d dealt with this week, you couldn’t handle any more rejection.

Maybe you should just turn around and get out of here while you still have the chance.

But as that thought crossed your mind, you spotted Eddie’s van in front of one of the trailers, and your heart rate sped up to a frankly concerning pace. Shit, it was now or never. Turn back around and head home or face Eddie and his possible rejection. Frankly, both options sounded fucking awful.

For a few long moments, you simply lingered on the road, staring at Eddie’s trailer as your heart drummed in your chest; your eyes roved over the illuminated windows, half expecting to see Eddie’s silhouette appear in one of them any second now. But when no visual indicator of him appeared, you shook yourself back to the present, pulling up alongside his van with the brief thought that maybe he saw your headlights. You hesitated at that, waiting yet again to see if he’d appear in the window or at the door. Fuck, if you were going to be this nervous, you might as well just get out of here.

But you knew you couldn’t do that. You knew you had to talk to Eddie again, you had to have at least one decent relationship in your life right now. Considering that he was the closest thing you had to a friend at the moment, you had to make amends with him. Not that Eddie owed you any forgiveness, of course - again, the fear that he’d want nothing to do with you came creeping back up, even as you pulled the keys from the ignition and slowly stepped out of the car.

Fuck, what were you going to do if Eddie didn’t want to talk? You didn’t think you could manage to survive the rest of the week if he didn’t forgive you. Despite trying to ignore the thought, in a way you realized that right now you needed Eddie.

This shit better work.

You felt almost shaky as you approached the front door, hearing thrashing metal music reverberating inside the trailer. You had to take another pause at the door to collect yourself - you were not nervous like this, and you refused to appear this nervous in front of anyone. You were here to apologize, not to be vulnerable. So, you pulled yourself together with a few deep breaths, marching up to the door and knocking strongly before you could think to hesitate any longer. Considering how loud the music was, you realized Eddie probably didn't hear you, so you roughly pounded your fist against the door once again. You put on a brave face, taking one more deep breath as the music quieted and someone approached the door.

Of course, once you and Eddie locked eyes, you suddenly froze. All the things you’d rehearsed on the way over here momentarily left your head as you took in his surprised expression, the look in his eyes that suggested you were the last person he expected to see on his doorstep. For what felt like hours, the two of you stared at one another as you attempted to collect your thoughts, attempted to keep all your hurt from showing on your face.

You eventually had to rip your eyes away from Eddie, maybe then you could finally find your voice again. As you stared at his feet, you straightened out your back and clenched your jaw, trying to quiet your mind and get out at least one coherent thought. With a deep breath, you flicked your gaze back to his face.

“Can we talk?” Your voice came out strong, if not a little cold - good, at least you didn’t sound as weak as you’d been feeling recently.

Eddie’s expression was still a little taken aback, even as he tried to put on a calm, collected air. Had you not caught him so off guard, perhaps you would’ve been fooled by the lazy smirk he gave you or his seemingly relaxed posture. But given the look of near astonishment that was on his face only a moment prior, you knew he was probably just as unprepared for this conversation as you were.

“Well, since you drove all the way here…” Eddie trailed off in what was meant to be a casual tone, stepping to the side and nodding his head towards the trailer behind him. You looked between his eyes and the entryway for a moment before stepping up into his home, immediately taking it all in attentively - it was easier to focus on your surroundings than to focus on him and your emotions.

You weren’t sure what you had expected of Eddie’s home, but as you stood in his small living room, everything appeared exactly as it should have - the place was cozy, decorated with items that were clearly personal, reflecting the taste of someone so unlike your own family. Back in your own home, the art on the wall was perfectly curated by your mother, the only photos being staged family portraits; the furniture was also meticulously decided on, meant to look cohesive and clean and modern.

Here in the Munson trailer, the space actually felt lived in - the coffee table was stacked with car magazines and western paperbacks, the walls adorned with collections of hats and mugs. The furniture was worn from years of use, the kitchen was cluttered, a fold out bed was pushed off to one side - yes, this home actually had life to it, unlike the stale living environment you were so used to. Without having met the man, you already had a strong sense of Eddie’s uncle just by looking around the place.

The more you looked at the Munson home, the more your curiosity grew - you wanted to ask more about Eddie and his uncle and all the little details that made them a family. But before you could get to know any more about Eddie, first you had to actually make things right with him. So, you turned your attention back to him, briefly catching the self-conscious look on his face that he very quickly corrected - did he feel judged, having you in his home like this? Was he worried what you’d think now that you had this more intimate glimpse at his life?

The two of you stared at one another for a few long moments; Eddie was clearly anticipating what you’d say next, and you were still trying to decide where exactly to start. You raised a brow as you let out a breath, forcing yourself to look away again so you could actually speak - looking Eddie in the eye like this made it harder to apologize.

“I shouldn’t have acted like that.” You started, letting your gaze continue to roam over trinkets and decor in the living room. Off to your side, you heard Eddie hum in acknowledgement instead of saying anything, which seemed to be your cue to continue. You sighed a little, forcing yourself to be honest, hard as it may be; your voice was a touch quieter as you added, “You didn’t deserve that shit.”

“No, I didn’t.” Eddie responded with a hint of harshness to his tone, but considering the circumstances, he didn’t sound nearly as mad as you’d expected. You slowly spun around, looking anywhere but his direction so your words would come more easily.

“I… like having you around.” The sentence sounded juvenile to your ears, but you simply continued, “I know all I wanted was to stir shit up and be left alone, but the past couple days--”

You had to cut yourself off, suddenly feeling a sadness well up in your throat - you were not about to break, not right now, not in front of Eddie. So, you swallowed hard and tried to calm down before he could see the chink in your armor.

“Not so fun being on the other side of things, huh?” Eddie chimed in, saving you from yourself with his comment. You turned to him with a nod, hoping your eyes didn’t give too much away.

“Fucking sucks, actually.” You managed a small, sad smile. It looked as if Eddie, too, wanted to mirror the expression, but he kept it to himself. You took in his posture, his crossed arms and guarded look, hoping that you were getting through to him.

You let out a sigh, your gaze drifting down to the floor as you struggled to find your words. God, being sincere shouldn’t be so damn hard, but you were never one to admit your faults, never the type to open up easily. Despite your usual confidence and brashness, you couldn’t even seem to form proper sentences right now.

“I forgive you.” Those three simple words drew a surprised look from you, to which Eddie shrugged as he continued, looking away with a coolness that surely had to be for show, “Your apology could use some work, seeing as you couldn’t even say ‘sorry,’ but you were forgiven the second I opened that door.”

That last statement was shockingly honest and somehow a touch too vulnerable for your liking - it made you nervous, and you couldn’t say why. Was Eddie just being hyperbolic, saying that to make you feel better? Or was it the truth, could he have possibly been willing to forgive you just like that simply because you showed up on his doorstep? Both of those ideas made you apprehensive in vastly different ways.

With a quick shake of your head, you tried to pull yourself together, straightening your shoulders and wiping the vulnerable look from your face. You met Eddie’s kind eyes with as much coolness as you could muster, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that you were relieved with how this conversation had gone. There was a glint of amusement in Eddie’s face as he watched you, as if he knew exactly what was going through your head, as if he knew your calm demeanor was all for show.

Eddie looked down, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke, “So long as you don’t drag me to that stupid homecoming, we’ll be alright.”

You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at the suggestion, thankful that Eddie made the effort to break the tension in the room - you were done trying to be vulnerable, and it seemed that he could sense that, too.

“As if I’d let myself be the Carrie White of their shitty joke.” You gave Eddie a playful glance, catching the way his brow furrowed.

“Carrie, huh?”

You also gave him a look, “Yeah, you know - telekinetic chick who killed everyone at prom?”

The smile that graced Eddie’s lips was nearly infectious as he laughed with a shake of his head, “Oh, I know Carrie, I’m just surprised that you do - you don’t seem the horror type.”

You cross your arms teasingly - it was so easy to fall back into this pattern with Eddie, easy to bounce off each other. Admittedly, you missed it.

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me.” You counter with a small smirk, to which Eddie gave you a challenging look.

“Well, it would help if you opened up a little more, princess.” The nickname rolled off Eddie’s tongue with ease, and it was a relief to hear it - that had to mean you really were forgiven, that he hadn't just said so to make you feel better. Even still, you narrowed your eyes, prompting Eddie to continue in his defense, “I know nothing about your hobbies, but you know practically all of mine.”

You looked him up and down once, “You know that I skate.”

Eddie rolled his eyes teasingly, although he sounded deathly serious as he said, “There’s clearly more to you than that.”

The sincerity in Eddie’s tone juxtaposed his playful look, giving you pause, making you nervous. You answered simply and with a dismissive shrug, hoping it didn't lead into some deeper conversation, “Guess that makes you the first person to notice.”

You turned away from Eddie to continue looking around, taking in the room as you debated whether or not you’d elaborate on your interests. Considering that Eddie made a good point about not knowing you well, you caved - after all, did you want him as a friend or not?

“I love horror movies.” You take a few steps towards a shelf filled with videos and cassettes, your eyes slowly looking over the titles, “Books, too, but the movies are way scarier, so they’re more fun.”

A few familiar horror titles sat on the shelf, causing you to grin and glance back at Eddie, who seemed to be watching you attentively. Realizing he was caught staring, he quickly righted himself and met your gaze, his curious smile growing. You could see in his face that questions were forming, that he probably wanted to ask what you liked about horror or what movie was your favorite. Expectantly, you turned to face him with an eager raise of your brow.

Eddie looked between your eyes for a moment as if he wasn’t sure what to say first, finally nudging his chin towards the VHS collection on the shelf, “You pick a movie, I’ll order us a pizza?”

You couldn’t help but be surprised at the suggestion - for two days you didn’t speak a word to each other, but again you were reminded of just how effortless it was to go back to the way things were. You smiled in appreciation for Eddie’s ability to make anything easy like this.

As much as you loved the idea, you hesitated, “It’s getting kinda late…”

Eddie waved it off before you could say anything else, “So? My uncle won’t be back for hours, and I don’t think either of us has anything better going on.”

So, you nodded, eagerly turning your attention back to the small collection of movies on the shelf - you wondered which ones were Eddie’s and which were his uncle’s. Quickly, you settled on a movie that you were excited to see there, grabbing it from the shelf and spinning to face Eddie as he dialed the nearest pizza place. You felt like an excited child as you held up Videodrome for him to see. Again, Eddie appeared surprised, but didn’t get the chance to comment as he was greeted by someone on the other end of the call. He probably wouldn’t have guessed Cronenberg to be your taste in horror.

With the pizza ordered and the movie loaded into the VCR, you and Eddie settled on opposite ends of the couch. Within a minute of the movie starting, however, you couldn’t help yourself as you began to eagerly go on and on about how technically impressive the effects in this movie were. You weren’t sure how long you went on for, but after a while you realized you were going on a tangent, cutting yourself off as you looked at Eddie for the inevitable judgment to come. You’d grown used to your friends rolling their eyes or your mom telling you to stop talking about disgusting horror movies, but Eddie looked so… attentive? So interested to listen to what you were saying?

You looked back at the screen almost sheepishly, but you could still feel the burn of Eddie’s eyes watching you.

“You’re kind of a nerd.” He said with far too much glee, causing you to whip your mean gaze back to him; Eddie was smiling from ear-to-ear, clearly pleased with himself and his discovery of your hidden interest.

“I am not.” You scoff, trying not to grin back at him. Eddie leaned across the couch as if to emphasize his taunting, his eyes challenging as he stared at you.

“You just spent five minutes talking about how much you love to watch a fake head blow up - seems kinda nerdy.”

It felt as if no rift had ever formed between you two, as if you hadn’t just been awkwardly trying to apologize to him some fifteen minutes ago. Eddie just made it ridiculously easy to relax, to forget all the bullshit from the past few days.

You gave Eddie’s shoulder a playful shove, so he sat back up in his seat, that wicked grin still on his face, “What, don’t want to be lumped in with the rest of us?”

Despite trying to give Eddie a threatening look, you knew your eyes were betraying you - all of the menace in your expression was destroyed by the way your eyes blatantly shone with amusement. You had to look away again, otherwise you feared you might laugh.

“Liking horror doesn’t make me a nerd.” You insisted.

“No, but considering you made a whole speech about how impactful Cronenberg’s use of gore is, I wouldn’t call you a casual fan.” Eddie teased, and even without looking you knew just how big his grin was.

So, you kept your eyes trained on the screen, hoping to become absorbed in the movie as you tried to ignore the way Eddie was studying you. And it worked for at least a few minutes - you began to smile at the familiar film, attentively following the story development, all the while slowly forgetting about the eyes practically burning a hole in your skull.

But in his typical fashion, Eddie couldn’t stay quiet for too long.

“Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers?”

Without missing a beat, you looked back at Eddie, unable to hold your tongue on the debate. Your tone was perhaps a little snobby as you answered, “Michael, obviously.”

Again, Eddie grinned largely with a challenge in his eye, “‘Obviously?’”

Of course, you knew what he was doing - he was clearly trying to poke at you, but damn it, it was working. You couldn’t resist the opportunity to talk about movie slashers to a captive audience, even if said audience was likely going to keep egging you on.

You rolled your eyes, folding your legs up on the couch as you turned your body towards Eddie, “Jason isn’t scary.”

“Not scary? He and Michael are basically the same guy.” You pulled a face at the comment, noticing that Eddie seemed pleased with himself for getting you going on the subject.

“And I guess you think they’re also just like Bubba?” Eddie grinned wickedly, so you quickly reached over to smack his shoulder, “Don’t you dare say it.”

“Say what?”

You narrowed your eyes, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to debate your point. You took a deep breath before looking back towards the movie, “Michael is better, end of conversation.”

“I’m more of a Freddy guy myself.” Eddie taunts, clearly not done tormenting you. You shot him a look from the corner of your eye, but didn’t dare give him the satisfaction of a response, trying to keep your attention on the movie instead. A minute later, Eddie chimed up again, “The Exorcist or the Omen?”

To that, you didn’t have as quick an answer, mulling it over for a moment before replying - when you answered with the Exorcist, Eddie couldn’t help but say that response was predictable.

So, it led you down the rabbit hole, Videodrome being totally forgotten in favor of debating your horror opinions. For every answer to Eddie’s questions, he had a counterargument - it didn’t matter whether or not you two agreed on something, he clearly just wanted to get you riled up. Maybe he enjoyed seeing you get excited about something, maybe he enjoyed the way you’d argue your case on characters you loved and hated.

When the pizza arrived, you raced Eddie to the door, paying for the food despite his protests, the pair of you clearly annoying the delivery driver who didn’t give a shit where the money came from so long as he got it. All through your meal, you two continued talking over the movie, which eventually reached its end and prompted Eddie to start playing another that you also wouldn’t pay any attention to.

As the night wore on, your debates eventually died down; your seat on the couch became increasingly more comfortable, and the shitty horror movie you had on was beginning to lull you to sleep. Considering how long your day - no, your whole week - had been, you were surprised it took this long for your exhaustion to set in. So, you slowly settled into the couch, progressively slumping into the cushions.

Seeing the tired look on your face, Eddie nudged you and insisted you lie down, and you were tired enough not to argue, resting on your side so you can continue watching the movie. You keep your legs curled up to avoid getting in Eddie’s space, but nonetheless your knees rest comfortable against his thigh. At some point between half awake and half asleep, you thought that maybe you felt his hand resting comfortably on your leg, but you were too tired to say for sure.

As the night wore on, you must have inevitably fallen asleep, because next thing you knew, you were being pulled out of a dream, a hand gently shaking your shoulder and Eddie’s far off voice encouraging you to wake up. You figured at first that the voice was just a part of your dream, but as the tone grew more clear and insistent, you were brought back to reality. Groggily, you blinked your eyes open with a confused glare - how long had you been out for? And what time was it?

Catching your eyes with his, the corner of Eddie’s mouth pulled back in a small grin, “Jesus, you sleep like the dead.”

A tired moan rumbled in your throat as your eyes narrowed. You tried to roll onto your other side as if you could somehow avoid Eddie that way, your words nonthreatening and heavy with sleep, “Fuck off…”

As Eddie sighed with annoyance, an unfamiliar huff of a laugh met your ears, but you weren’t nearly awake enough to even wonder who it belonged to. Eddie pulled at your shoulder so you couldn’t turn away from him, to which you whined again.

“No, you’re not sleeping on the couch, it’ll ruin your back.” Eddie insisted, teasingly pulling at your arm - if you weren’t still half asleep, it wouldn’t have annoyed you nearly as much as it did, “Come on, get up.”

You opened your harsh eyes again, knowing Eddie wouldn’t allow himself to be ignored. As your eyes adjusted, his face slowly came into focus, his hair haloed by the light of the TV; kneeling beside you, he was clearly trying to hide the amusement he found in your sleepy attitude.

The two of you stared at one another for a long minute as the fog slowly lifted from your brain, making you more and more aware of your surroundings. Your gaze drifted away from Eddie, noticing movement in the corner of your eye; turning in the direction of it, you made eye contact with a man who had to have been Eddie’s uncle. He quickly turned away, pretending to be preoccupied with something in the kitchen, as if that would give you and Eddie a measly sense of privacy.

With a deep yawn, you looked at Eddie again, begrudgingly accepting that you had to get up. You slowly rose into a seated position, your feet brushing Eddie’s leg as you moved to set them on the ground; he rose and took a step back to give you a little more space. Stretching your arms above your head and popping your neck, you looked between the two men, noticing that Eddie seemed to be somewhat sheepish, which made you curious. Was he embarrassed that this was how you and his uncle were meeting? Was it because he felt like you two were caught doing something wrong? Or was it something else entirely that influenced that expression on his face?

You sighed heavily as you rose to your feet, your face scrunching up a little as you looked around the room; your voice was still heavy with sleep as you asked, “What time is it? I have to go home.”

Eddie shook his head at the same moment that his uncle silently disappeared to the bathroom, the sound of the shower running drifting out from under the door; maybe he was trying to give you two a bit more privacy.

“You don’t have to go.” Eddie says in a surprisingly gentle tone, to which you furrow your brow, “It’s late and you're exhausted - just stay here tonight.”

You weakly tried to protest, although you were so tired that it was a relief to hear that Eddie wasn’t kicking you out in the wee hours of the morning, “I really shouldn’t.”

“You really should.” Eddie insisted, clearly not open to argument. Luckily for him, you accepted the response instantly, your head still too foggy to find a good enough reason to leave. So, you nod smally while trying to stifle another yawn.

Eddie points his hand in the direction of the bedroom, and you immediately accept the invitation, confidently heading that way as if you owned the damn place. You didn’t catch the tug of a smile that graced Eddie’s lips as he followed just a step behind you.

You entered the dark bedroom and all but collapsed onto the bed, hearing a slight laugh leave Eddie’s lips; at least he found it funny instead of rude, not that you were terribly concerned with that right now. No, the only thing on your mind at the moment was curling into the mattress and sleeping undisturbed for the rest of the night. You comfortably wrapped your arms around one of Eddie’s pillows, inhaling his lingering scent without considering what you were doing. 

“You gonna sleep in that?” Eddie teased, reminding you that you were still in the workout clothes that you wore for skating. Like a stubborn child unwilling to do a task, you grunted, sitting back up and trying to find Eddie in the dark. You caught his silhouette digging through what you assumed to be a pile of clothes, eventually pulling something out and tossing it in your direction. The t-shirt weakly hit you in the chest before falling into your lap, so you started to pull off your own soiled shirt, letting it fall forgotten somewhere on the floor.

Light still filtered into the room through the gap in the door, so you caught the way Eddie spun around to give you privacy just as you started to tug at your bra; you couldn’t help but smile, finding it funny as he pushed the door closed. After all, it was dark enough that he probably couldn’t see anything; and even if he could, it didn’t matter. Right?

Eddie kept himself preoccupied, returning his attention to the stack of clothes as you pulled his scratchy t-shirt over your head; thanks to the darkness of the room, you didn’t catch the way he glanced back at you curiously. Once you were comfortable, you lied back down and began to burrow in the blankets, pulling them over your head as you listened to Eddie strip out of his own clothes.

A few moments later, one of the blankets was being yanked from the bed; you greedily tried to grab it before it was gone, but to no avail, which prompted you to poke your head out from the cocoon you’d built. You couldn’t quite find Eddie in the dark, but you nonetheless furrowed your brow in the direction you figured he was in.

“What are you doing?” You questioned groggily as your eyes began to adjust; you could now make out Eddie’s shadow as he appeared to turn to you.

“Sleeping on the floor.” He answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, nudging things aside with his foot before dropping the blanket to the ground. As he leaned over the bed to grab a pillow, you rolled your eyes and reached out to nudge him, making contact with bare skin before shuffling over to make room on the small bed.

“Like hell you are.” You attempted to snuggle into your new position, but seeing Eddie awkwardly lingering prompted you to reach over and give his arm a quick tug, “Get the fuck in the bed, Munson.”

Eddie hesitated a moment longer, and although he couldn’t see it, you stared at him in amused scrutiny. With a huff, you threw aside the blankets and hit the mattress once for emphasis, “Don’t tell me you’re nervous to share a bed with a girl.”

You readjusted to face away from Eddie, wrapping your arms around your pillow again and burying your face in it, getting cozy almost instantly. Behind you, he sighed before his weight shifted the mattress; just from the feel of his movements, you knew Eddie was awkwardly trying to stay as close to the edge of the bed as possible. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a smile at how stiff he was - at this rate, he wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep.

“Stop worrying about it, Eddie.” You muttered gently, curling up in the blankets as if you were a cat lying in the sun. A big yawn escaped you as you felt Eddie shift a little, and you knew you’d be out like a light any minute now, “Try to get some sleep, okay?”Eddie hummed in acknowledgement, and despite his best efforts to keep his distance, you could still feel his body heat radiating near you. Smiling comfortably to yourself, you quickly began to doze off, barely catching Eddie’s whispered “Night, princess…” before you fell back into a deep sleep.

.

.

addt. Author's Note | I couldn't keep these two apart for even an entire chapter, so I hope their lil reconciliation was worth the wait!

Taglist | @3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @avalon-wolf @costellation-hunter @daisy-munson

@daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @em0220

@frogtape @fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames @graciehams @kthomps914

@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @maskofmirrors @mewchiili

@miaajaade @mmmunson @munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive

@rcailleachcola @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

[trippinsorrows]

in your hands + three

authors note: ya'll been on me for this, so here it is. hope it lives up to expectations!

need to catch up? read part one HERE and part two HERE.

warnings: fluff and a tiny bit of smut

words: 8k (again, don't ask)

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” Solana confesses. “I mean, it’s just….it’s just dinner, ya know?”

Kayden lifts her eyes from Raya who continues to grasp at her ombre braid, staring with all the fascination in her little world. “Seriously?”

Solana frowns. “What?”

“Just a date?” Kayden scoffs and grabs onto Raya who’s suddenly intent on crawling away from her godmother to further explore the apartment that’s essentially her second home. “Sis, need I remind you that man blew your back out and had you speaking six other languages?”

Solana looks away, heat rising to her cheeks. “I didn’t…..I didn’t say all that.” 

“You didn’t have to.” A glance at Kayden reveals her knowing smirk. “That walk the next day told me all I needed to know.”

And the blush is increasing. Solana can’t deny it. Roman’s dick is huge, and in the moment, it felt amazing, but her soreness the next day certainly did not. Not enough to not try again if given the opportunity. No….not at all.

“Naw, but forreal, you’re nervous because of this adorable lil’ munchkin right there,” Kayden gestures to Raya who’s given up on her great escape attempt and has settled for one of her toys as a means for passing time. “It is pretty….interesting that he said it was cool for you to bring her.”

Solana has a feeling that interesting is not the word Kayden really wants to use. “You think it’s weird?”

She shakes her head. “Not that. It’s just…..I guess, I’m not used to seeing that,” she admits. “I feel like most men don’t want to give women with kids the time of day.”

Solana nods, adjusting her position on the sofa. “I agree.” She groans and finds herself asking, “should I just cancel?”

Kayden gasps. “Absolutely not! I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it.” Carefully grabbing Raya as she moves to stand up, Solana is reminded, “didn’t you say you really like him?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“And the S-E-X was great?”

The blush deepens, Solana low key grateful for Kayden censoring herself. “Y–yes.”

“And he already knows about my goddaughter and is cool with her? And the nigga rich, too?” She slaps her hand over her mouth, making an ‘I’m sorry’ expression before finishing. “You better not cancel. Just go and see how it goes. Maybe the vibes are off, or maybe you’ve found Raya her new daddy.”

Solana is the one to scoff, laying back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. “Yeah right.”

One

Solana only has a single regret when it comes to her baby girl, and it’s simply that Raya was not blessed with a father. 

An actual father who wanted to be in her life. 

If only. 

Roman could never be or even want to be that. Of that, she’s sure. He’s rich, handsome, and childless. Why would he ever want to take on the responsibility of a child he didn’t make?

She can fully understand that and doesn’t fault him for it, either.

Can only give him a tremendous amount of credit for being open to seeing where things go with them while just acknowledging that Raya comes first in everything.

He truly seemed fine with it when he took her home and they discussed it just earlier in the week, and he’s seemed fine in all of the text exchanges they’ve had since.

She just….she just needs to, like he said, see where this goes.

If anywhere. 

—-----------

Having a best friend like Kayden is useful for so many reasons, including when it comes to situations like this where Solana feels overwhelmed and out of her league. 

The two of them, three including Raya who’s being held by her godmother, currently sit outside on the steps of Solana's apartment complex waiting for Roman who’d texted about ten minutes ago that he was on his way.

Ten minutes that have been filled with anxiety and a back and forth dialogue playing out in Solana’s head. 

Blowing out a breath, she finds herself seeking reassurance once more. “Are you sure this is a good id—”

“Ladies.” 

An instant scowl that’s shared across three sets of faces, including Raya’s.

Solana is almost wishing they’d opted for staying inside her place versus sitting and waiting outside. She should have known it was too risky, too big of a chance of running into the very man standing before her.

Carmelo Hayes. Resident Casanova. A handsome, attractive man, all things considered, compared to some other unfortunate men she’s come across. But, the attraction is dead as soon as he opens his mouth revealing that no one loves Carmelo Hayes as much as Carmelo loves Carmelo Hayes.

He slides his sunglasses down, shooting Solana a wink. “Neighbor.” And then a reluctant glance at Kayden, followed by a lazy murmur of her name and a wide, yet awkward smile to Raya. “Sup, lil bit.”

As she does with most interactions regarding the man, Raya’s scowl deepens as she turns her face into Kayden’s chest.

Kayden snorts, not trying to hide her telling comment, “smart kid.”

Clearing her throat, Solana does her best with the pleasantries. “Hi, Carmelo.”

“What ya’ll sitting out here for?” He leans against the wall, eyes briefly falling to Solana’s chest. “Your car still broke?”

“Is your hairline still uneven?”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Ursula.”

“It is,” Solana cuts in, not in the mood for their back and forth. One drunken night between her best friend and her neighbor that ended in a verbal assault from and on both sides, and these two haven’t seen eye to eye since. A forever feud that’s destined to last the test of time, given the fact it literally happened when they were all still in high school.

Because, of course, the “pretty boy” from high school who never looked her way would one day, someday end up being her neighbor. 

Life is just ironic like that. 

He makes a sound, offering, “you know I could fix it up for you.”

She has no doubt. Solana has heard that Carmelo, "Melo," is pretty good at what he does at the local car shop, his mechanic work known as some of the best in town. But, she also knows it wouldn't come without an expectation. She knows that his offer definitely involves going through his job for compensation, maybe using his employee discount, and definitely requiring a date to top it all off.

And when hell freezes over will she ever go out with this man. Even if he wasn’t under the impression that he’s God’s gift to women, Raya has never seemed to take to him, her little mouth either shifting to a frown or a scowl. Nothing else.

And her daughter’s response to people in her life, especially men, will always be the number one indicator for who she lets around them. 

“I’m working on it,” is all Solana supplies, shifting on the steps as she sees Kayden switch Raya from one hip to another.

Carmelo, forever dedicated, is undeterred by the soft rejection. “Come on, I know you gotta be tired of riding that raggedy ass bus with lil' mama.”

Very much so, but given her options, it’s definitely the better of them. “It gives us more time to bond.”

Because it does. Because holding her baby girl while on the way to work or to drop her off at her mom’s is a sort of one-on-one time that Solana appreciates. Will give the bus credit for that much, at least. 

“Why can’t you just take no for an answer?”

“Why can’t you grow your own hair?” Melo sneers. “Been rocking them locs since we was teenagers. It’s time to let shit go.”

“Why can’t you grow a bigger dick?” Kayden counters. Solana’s eyes widen as she focuses on her daughter, oblivious to the inappropriate things being stated but still exposed, nonetheless. “Been bragging about that Vienna sausage since we was kids. Accept you a micro-man, and keep it pushing.”

“Guys,” Solana sighs. Yeah….definitely should have stayed inside. “Please—”

Solana is distracted by the moment her eyes land on a sleek, shiny, black SUV pulling up to the front of the building where they’re all sitting. A fucking Range Rover. Most likely the most expensive thing to ever grace her regular shmegular apartment complex. 

And the mesmerized staring continues as the car pulls up in front of the group of them, Solana already knowing who’s about to get out before he does. But even that knowing can’t stop the way her stomach fills with butterflies seeing him step out the car that costs more than some houses. 

Butterflies that only intensify when her eyes land on him, an almost slow motion type of experience as he circles around the front of the car, dressed in dark jeans, a dark jacket draped over, of course, a dark shirt. Black sunglasses that he slides up atop his head, revealing warm brown eyes that are focused on her, only to harden when he shifts focus to Melo.

Solana is thoroughly aware of the shift in mood, seeing how Melo straightens his posture, as if that makes a difference. Roman is huge and towers over all of them, Melo included.

Moving off the steps, Solana walks over to Roman, smile growing as she looks up at him. “Hey.”

Her voice seems to break Roman from his unspoken stand-off with Carmelo. Solana does her best to remain calm as he bends down and kisses her. Nothing intense, nothing long, but enough to have her craving his soft lips on hers once more when he pulls away with a small smirk. “Hey, baby.”

Her eyes widen. 

Baby.

Lord Jesus, be a fence.

A part of her is unsure if he says it just to fuck with Melo. Another part doesn’t care regardless because being called as such from him, with that deep voice, is enough to have those butterflies fluttering all over.

Kayden clearing her voice drags Solana back down to reality as she focuses on her best friend and daughter. “This is my best friend and Raya’s godmother, Kayden.” Kayden steps closer to avoid Roman having to move, holding Raya with one arm as she offers her hand. Roman introduces himself, followed by his gaze shifting to Raya. “And you already know this one.”

“I do,” he chuckles, eyes softening a bit. “Hi, Raya.”

Raya’s response to Roman is night and day from her response to Melo. She still has her face in Kayden’s chest, but she’s not turned away from the man before her. She’s looking at him with a smile, eyes twinkling with curiosity. 

Kayden snorts, loudly exclaiming, “looks like it’s just you, Hayes, that baby Raya doesn’t fuck with.”

“Kayden.”

Roman turns back to Melo with an uninterested expression that contrasts his question. “Who are you?”

“The annoying, irrelevant neighbor.”

Solana feels stressed already, and the outing hasn’t even begun. “Kayden, please.”

“Carmelo Hayes,” he responds, subtly—or not so subtly—rolling his shoulders. “Been knowing them since high school.”

Solana frowns. What is he trying to imply? Certainly not friendship. Carmelo is many things, but someone she considers a friend is not one of them.

“He lives on the first floor,” Solana provides, hoping it’s an indirect but efficient way to clarify his role, per se. 

Roman makes a sound, that smirk returning as he rolls his eyes at the shorter man. Focused on her, he asks, “ya’ll ready?”

Solana nods, suddenly appreciative of the opportunity to get out of this situation. She gestures to the car seat sitting on the steps. “Yeah, let me just get this set up.”

Roman moves to open the backdoor as Solana grabs the car seat, securing it in the backseat of one of the nicest cars she’s ever seen, briefly stunned by the screens on the back of the passenger and driver headrest. 

“Damn….” Shaking her head, Solana gives a tug on the car seat, ensuring it’s ready before walking over to Kayden. “Come here, baby girl.” Raya is all the willing and wanting as she reaches over, giggling when Solana holds her and kisses her cheek. “Time to go for a ride.”

Raya makes an incoherent sound of excitement as Solana starts to buckle her in, Kayden right by her, speaking in a low voice, “girl, you didn’t say he was that damn fine.” Solana bites down on her bottom lip, watching how Raya also looks around the sleek black and red interior with all the amazement. “Marry him.”

Solana has to roll her eyes at that.

Like that would ever happen.

“Give me her bag,” she requests, Kayden handing over Soraya’s diaper bag. Placing it on the floor in front of Raya, Solana smiles, “ready to go?” Raya claps and wiggles her little legs, making both women laugh. 

Turning toward Roman, Kayden playfully elbowing her side, Solana shares. “Ready.”

Roman nods, sliding his sunglasses back down, speaking to Kayden first. “It was nice meeting you.” He moves over to the passenger door, opening it for Solana. She carefully closes Raya’s door, holding back a smile when Kayden makes a sound.

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine,” Kayden responds in that knowing tone, while Solana slides into the seat. Roman makes sure she’s all the way in before closing the door. Out the window, Solana catches the haughty smirk Roman directs toward Melo before circling the front of the car and climbing in. 

Solana jumps when Kayden taps on the window. It takes a minute for her to figure out how to roll down the window, but when she does, it’s instant regret. “Just so you know, I have her location as well as a tracker on baby girl’s clothes. Try to kidnap either of them, and I’ll have the FBI on your doorstep before the 6 o’clock news even has a chance to run the story.”

“Kayden!”

While Solana is filled with embarrassment, Roman seems only amused. “Noted,” is all he states before adding, “I’ll have them back at a decent time.”

“What is your definition of decent?”

“Oh my gosh,” Solana scrambles to find the button again, starting to roll up the window. “Goodbye, Kayden.”

Roman only continues to look amused as he asks, right after Kayden calls out another goodbye, “you good?”

“Yeah,” she answers, putting on her seatbelt.

Gaze back on him, she sees him glance at Raya through the rearview mirror. “You want to put something on for her?”

It takes a second for Solana to realize he’s referring to the screens in the backseat. “No, she’s fine. She loves car rides, so all you have to do is start driving, and she’ll be entertained.” A true blessing, as Solana is well aware many babies don’t do well in the car. Not Raya. Raya could spend the rest of her little life riding in a car and be just as content. 

“Got it,” he chuckles, starting the car and starting to pull out of the parking lot. “You look good.”

A compliment that has her cheeks tinged pink. “Thanks.” Shifting in her seat, she shares, “I didn’t really—I didn’t really know what to wear.”

Because it’s a date, sure, but it’s a non-traditional date. A sexy dress would be too much, and jeans would be not enough. Thus, her settling on a normal dress, covered with a cardigan and some sandals. 

Roman takes his eyes off the road only for a second to give her a quick one over. “You chose well.” The pink deepens as she contemplates returning the compliment when he speaks again, “we gotta stop at the mall before the grocery store. Macy’s, apparently.”

Solana is rightfully confused. “Oh. W–why?”

“Gonna be honest with you, I’m not much of a cook. At all. So, it was only this morning I realized I don’t have any pots and shit for you to cook with. I asked my cousin’s wife where to get that stuff, and she suggested Macy’s.”

His explanation both does and doesn’t make sense. “Roman, you don’t have to go buy anything. I could have just brought some of my pots and pans over.” That would be significantly easier and make a lot more sense, considering it sounds like this man has zero desire to use said pots and pans after today. “Plus, pots can be….expensive.”

Especially at a department store like Macy’s.

At that, he reaches his hand over, placing it on her thigh, giving a light squeeze. “Money is never an issue.” She swallows, partially distracted by his big hand on her leg. It’s such an innocent thing that shouldn’t affect her as much as it does. “Not when you’re with me.”

With him. 

She’s not with him though. Not…..not in the traditional sense.

He doesn’t seem to be acting like that though.

“But—”

“Relax.” The deep timbre of his voice is insanely soothing, conjoined with his thumb moving across the material of her dress. “I’ve got this.”

He certainly does, it seems. 

—-------

A part of Solana wishes that Roman had given her a heads up about the extra stop, because she might have taken Raya’s stroller. Truthfully, her baby girl is kind of on the smaller side, weighing just about 15lbs, so it’s no issue to carry her around the store. It’s just the wiggly phase Raya is in that has her having to continue to hold Raya’s tiny stuffy, using it to entertain her at times.

Thankfully, Roman is very much to the point, easily asking a sales associate where the cookware is. He walks them over to said section, finding yet another associate—he seems to be good at seeking people out—asking for the “best” set of pots they sell. And at that, Solana’s eyes widen.

“Roman,” she whispers harshly, Raya pulling at the top of her dress, something that seems to put a small smile on his face. “Do you—do you have any idea how expensive a pot collection can be?”

He shrugs, answering calmly as they follow the associate through the section. “No. Don’t care either.”

That only widens her eyes even more. “We’re talking potentially thousands of dollars.”

Again, this man looks so unbothered. “And?” He stops, turning to her with a focused gaze. “Solana, I don’t think you understand how ri—”

“Mama!”

Raya’s interjection pulls the focus from the topic of expensive ass pots and pans to a kids toy someone clearly placed down after deciding to not get it. A musical, interactive teddy bear with floppy pink ears and clothes that’s clearly captured Raya’s attention.

Solana has to hold her daughter a bit tighter as she starts wiggling and whining in an attempt to grab the toy.

“Raya, no,” she scolds lightly, switching her to the other arm to widen the distance. Raya is irritated by that, whining yet again as she pushes on Solana’s chest. “I said no, Mija.”

“No!” She shouts back one of the few words she knows, an expression that makes Roman move to grab the toy, holding it in front of her. 

“This what you want?” He asks, smile returning yet again. Raya’s scowl shifts to a wide grin as she grabs for the toy, squeezing the hand which causes kids instrumental music to play. Raya is suddenly a clapping, giggling child, making Solana feel slightly bad as she says to Roman in a low but firm voice.

“Roman, no. I don’t even know how much it is,” Solana argues, very well aware that the price really doesn’t matter, because she truly does not have any extra money to splurge on a toy. On anything, really. Every single dollar is spoken for. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Roman shrugs, supplying, “she wants it, so I’ll get it for her.”

Solana’s stomach drops. “Roman, you don’t have to do—”

“Solana, it’s fine. It’s a kid’s toy. Not a big deal,” he says it so casually, taking her by surprise yet again as he starts to pry the stuffy from out of the box, ensuring none of the tiny plastic things are on said stuffed animal. He hands it back to Raya who doesn’t hesitate to grab it, Solana using her hand to help hold it up as a babbling Raya is fully immersed in her latest toy.

His gaze lingers on Soraya with a hint of curiosity and a lot of amusement before he grabs the box and finds where the associate has been silently waiting and watching the whole exchange. 

Solana is still trying to process said exchange, still trying to grasp how easily and kindly Roman just acquiesced to the most random of things. But beyond that, how he’s gone along with everything so….easily. No irritation or frustration at having a baby tag along with them, a baby he plans to buy a toy for just because she was getting fussy at not having it. 

And now he’s following the associate who’s carrying a box of Viking pots. Solana moves over to him, trying to not think too much into his kindness. “Roman, Viking is an expensive brand.”

“I asked for the best, because that’s what I get. I get what I am, Solana,” he answers. Solana gasps a little when he walks past her, slapping her ass in the process. “Come on.”

Still flustered by it all, she follows wordlessly as he guides them to the register where she learns the damn toy that Raya continues to interact with is freaking $34.00. She’s never paid that much for a toy.

But, that $34.00 is nominal compared to the $3,340.00 that pops up when the 12 piece set of pots are scanned.

“Oh my God.” Her anxiety is spiked at just the thought of Roman dropping that kind of money. Meanwhile, he’s already pulling out his wallet at the total that’s close to $3.700.00.  “Roman, please, you don’t—”

He ignores her, handing over his black card without a care in the world, as she tries to not have a panic attack in the middle of this department store.

How rich is this man?

Not even in her dreams can she imagine dropping so much on something that’ll only be used once. Maybe he’ll return them afterwards?

For some reason, though, Roman doesn’t strike her as that type of man. The type to purchase and return before the credit card statement balance updates.

If he even checks that. 

“Thank you,” he says, taking the large bag that contains the box of pots as well as the now empty box that Raya’s stuffed animal was in. He looks between mother and daughter, asking, “ready?”

Solana is still silenced by the opulent display before her, only able to nod. Roman stops, however, suddenly turning to her to ask, “what are you going to do with her while you cook?”

That’s an easy answer. “I’m just gonna hold her.”

He looks perplexed. “While you cook?”

Now, it’s Solana’s turn to chuckle. “I’m a single mom, Roman. Multitasking is all I do.”

Because it is. Because she’s more or less mastered the art of holding her daughter while completing a variety of tasks, especially cooking. 

If only that worked for the man before her. “Naw.” He shakes his head, motioning for her to follow him in the direction they just came from. 

“Wait, what are you doing?” Roman doesn’t answer her, just walks up to the same associate who checked them out and issues a question.

“Where’s the baby section?” 

“Roman!” 

Her voice is louder than she anticipated but enough to get him to offer a plain explanation. “We’ll just pick up a couple things. Enough so you don’t have to hold her the whole time.” Solana opens her mouth to protest, to explain that what’s not a big deal is her just keeping Raya on her hip. But, he’s already following the associate, thus leaving her rushing to catch up with him.

Realizing Roman is a man who doesn’t seem to take no for an answer when his mind is made up, Solana aims for some level of compromise, pleading, “not a lot, okay?”

His smile is genuine but his eyes twinkle with mischief. "Okay. Not a lot."

—---------

Turns out rich people have very different definitions of “a lot” compared to the rest of society. 

Thousands.

By the time they finish not only at Macy’s but the grocery store, Roman has spent close to $4,000.00 dollars. $4,000.00 on a variety of items, many of which are unnecessary, a lot of which are for Raya.

Random toys, a play mat, a high chair, a floor seat, a baby lounger and toys that Raya most certainly doesn’t need, as she has all of that back in Solana’s apartment. Something Solana does her best to explain to Roman, but it seems it goes in one ear and out the other. 

A mixture of several emotions, Solana isn’t sure what to make of Roman’s financial kindness and generosity. A part of her wonders if he’s expecting something in return, something she’s not opposed to, per se, but would like to be because they just desire each other in that way versus him using sex as payment.

Though something tells her Roman isn’t that type. Because someone who looks and even fucks like him could get any woman he wanted. She has no doubt about that. He doesn’t need to try to bribe someone like her, a single mother, for sex.

He can get that without even trying from quite literally anyone else.

Thus, that leaves her with the belief that this man might be one of the kindest she’s ever encountered. 

And that, she also doesn’t know what to make of. 

Walking back into the spacious living room after changing Raya in one of Roman’s bathroom, a bathroom that’s about what and what with her actual apartment, she finds him lounged on the sofa. He’s got one arm resting atop the sofa, phone in the other hand as he focuses on the screen. 

Solana quietly steps in, moving to the floor, close to the sofa where he’s lounging but needing to be close to Raya who seems to want to explore every single bit of the massive penthouse despite the makeshift playroom that is Roman’s living room from all the stuff he got her.

Roman is quick to lock his phone, tossing it beside him as he compliments, “dinner was delicious. You can cook your ass off.”

Briefly tearing her eyes from Raya, Solana looks down and pushes some hair behind her ear. “Thank you.” Clearing her throat and pleased to see Raya crawl over to the play may where she starts hitting at the dangling toys, Solana looks back over at Roman and shares, “I love to cook.”

“I can tell.” His gaze is focused solely on her, an intimidating thing in some ways. “How’d you learn?”

“My mom,” she smiles, reflecting and elaborating. “My mom loves to cook too, so it’s just something she taught me and my sister.” Leaning back into the sofa and angling her body more towards him, she adds, “and my Uncle Booker, too. He owns a restaurant out in Georgia, and I’d visit him sometimes during the summer when I was younger, so he taught me how to make soul food, and my mom taught me how to make Mexican food.” The best of both worlds, in many ways. “You really don’t know how to cook? Like, at all?”

“I can do some things,” he says with a shrug. Solana makes a face, prompting him to ask, “what?”

Biting on her lip to hold back an amused smile, she points out, “it didn’t seem like it.” Roman rolls his eyes as she pulls up receipts. “Roman, you couldn’t even crack the eggs.”

“That’s cause they’re too damn small. I have big hands.” She giggles at the almost petulant scowl on his handsome face. “Besides, I have people who do that for me.”

“Cook?”

“Yeah.”

She nods, remembering him mentioning his private chef. Must be nice. “Well, I don’t cook as much as I’d like to, but you’re always welcome to join us for dinner when I do, though I might have to make a bigger portion size.” Because the man has the appetite of a group of middle school boys. Granted, with someone his size, he must have to eat a lot to keep in shape. 

A perfect shape.

“Why don’t you?”

“Cook more?”

“Yeah.”

A lot of reasons, only some of which she feels like sharing. “I’m just so busy.” She gestures to Raya who is now holding onto the stuffed bunny that was the first of many purchases by Roman for her. “And this one doesn’t eat much of it anyway, couple on how expensive groceries are, it’s just not worth it, ya know?”

He nods. “Well, you can come over here and cook for me anytime.” She smiles, as his simmering gaze intensifies on her. “Or just come over, period.”

Solana’s voice lowers, her tone slightly teasing. “A foodless visit?”

“I love the food.” Their eyes lock. “But, I like you more.” And the heavens are on her side, because before she can freak out at such a bold statement, overthink what his actions continue to indicate, he changes the subject a bit. “But, I gotta ask…..the neighbor?”

“Carmelo?” Solana can’t even hide the disgust in her face at just the thought of that man. “Absolutely not. Never.” Raya wobbles over to her, Solana pulling her baby girl against her as Raya starts to reach over for yet another toy. “He’s just…..he doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.”

It’s not missed upon Solana how Roman’s disposition shifts into something more serious. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs, gently caressing Raya’s back. “He’s asked me out, directly and indirectly, over the past couple months, and it seems all of my creative ways of telling him no don’t seem to register.” Solana rolls her eyes and shakes her head, adding, “it’s fine though. He’s harmless. Just egotistical.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, but Solana can see it. Can see the wheels in his head turning. “I’m sure he’ll get the hint soon enough.”

If only. “Maybe.” She scoffs, Raya showing and babbling about the toy in her hand. Solana smiles softly, speaking to Roman while watching her daughter. “It’s ironic. He never paid me any attention when we were in high school, and I was on the dance team, so we would travel together sometimes with the basketball team. Never looked twice at me. Now, I’m 26 with a baby, and he won’t leave me alone.”

Something flashes in Roman’s eyes that seems to contrast with the curious nature of his question. “You were a dancer?”

She nods. “Since I was six.” 

Roman tilts his head, asking, “do you still do it?”

And, he notices instantly the shift in her demeanor. The way her gaze shifts downward, almost awkwardly. “No,” she finally answers, voice almost sad and distant “Not….not anymore.”

Right away, Roman can sense it, see that there’s a story there. A story that wields some level of hurt and pain. It makes him almost regret even asking anything in the first place.

Solana suddenly gasps and asks, “shit, what time is it?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, pulling out her phone to see the time that reads quarter to 7. “I forgot, I have to make a business call.” She bites on her lip, gaze moving to Raya and then back at him. “Can you watch her right quick? It won’t take long. I prom—”

“Solana, it’s fine,” he assures, nodding in the direction of the terrace. “You can take it out there if you’d like.”

She seems appreciative of both his agreement as well as the offer for privacy. “Thank you.” Solana climbs to her feet, Raya’s little eyes moving to her mom, as she shares, “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Raya doesn’t say anything, just watches Solana walk out of the living room and onto the terrace. It’s only when the doors shut and she’s out of Raya’s view that the baby starts to make noise. “Mama….” It’s a soft exclamation, conjoined with her climbing onto her feet and starting to slowly waddle in that direction.

“Hey,” Roman moves to the edge of the couch, ready to block her path, if need be. “She’s coming back, okay?”

He’s unsure if his words actually provide any sort of comfort or a type of distraction, because Raya is suddenly moving over to grab a book on the floor that came with one of the toys he got her. 

His eyes are glued to her, recognizing in being around her for the day how mobile she can be. A normal, expected thing, according to Solana. 

Book still in hand, Raya waddles her way over to him, offering said book. “Is that for me?” She makes a loud sound that makes him smile a bit. “Thank you.”

She smiles loud and proud, suddenly looking up at him and reaching her arms up, her next request unmistaken.

Roman tenses a bit, suddenly unsure of himself. For the most part, interactions with Solana’s daughter have been easy, because it’s quite simple to see a kid’s face light up at an item, only for that light to intensify when they receive said item. It was mostly Solana who engaged with her as she sat in the high chair he’d picked up from Macy’s while they (mostly Solana) cooked. And even as she’d made his living room a bit of a playroom, that was mostly just a lot of watching to make sure she didn’t get anything, from both himself and Solana.

However, this is the first time such direct interaction would occur, and he’s mostly taken back how Raya is the one initiating and asking for it.

He’s clearly taking too long, Raya starting to babble and scowl, one little hand hitting his leg. He gives her a look that brings the smile back and has her reaching once more. 

Roman chuckles. The kids is definitely determined, that’s for certain.

Pushing against the lingering discomfort, he yields. “Alright.” Roman moves the book to the other side of him and leans down to pick her up, settling her down on one of his thighs. “Better?”

Her answer is another loud sound that’s a mixture of a giggle and shout. It makes his smile widen ever so slightly. Roman’s only experience with kids has been Jey’s wild bunch of offspring and Aniyah, Jimmy and Naomi’s lil comedian of a daughter. But even with that minimal experience, there’s something different about Raya. 

She is every bit her mother’s daughter, the spitting image of Solana, but beyond that, she has her mother’s softness and kindness about her. Even at such a young age, her aura is warm and welcoming. 

It’s…..different.

Soraya is shifting on his lap, her little head turning until she spots the book and reaches for it. 

Roman helps her out, handing it to her, continuing to watch and study how her eyes focus on the book as little fingers pry it open to a random page. She’s then pointing and “talking,” looking up at him.

“What is that?” Roman also points to the drawing, explaining to her, “that’s a dog.” He jumps a bit as she makes another loud sound for no reason. This time, he laughs a little as well. She has so much personality for such a young child. “You like dogs?” No response this time as she tires of said page and starts moving to the rest of them, easily growing bored, eventually knocking the book to the floor.

Roman sucks his teeth, playfully chastising her, “why you gotta be throwing stuff, huh?” Raya’s response is a loud yawn as she looks around, shifting once more on his lap. He moves his hand to her back, providing an extra layer of security as she stands up on his lap. He tenses yet again as she extends her arms, as if reaching and trying to hug him, clearly wanting to be held.

Another moment of uncertainty, because damn, Roman has never felt so out of his league and unsure of himself. Raya sitting on his lap, wanting to sit on his lap is one thing, but her wanting to be traditionally held is another.

It’s been years since he’s held a baby. And while Raya is not a baby baby, she’s still a tiny little thing. 

But, it’s when she starts to whine against him that Roman feels almost compelled to comply, moving both arms around her as her little arms go around his neck, her face on his shoulder. 

What the fuck?

He’s the last person in the world he’d expect any child to gravitate towards, but this little girl….the way she yawns once more against him and feels so….at ease in his arms…..he doesn’t know what to make of it.

What to make of any of it.

Just knows that he can feel the discomfort on him melting away at the same time he feels the subtle rise and fall of her chest against him. 

Almost….almost peaceful.

The sound of footsteps alerts him to Solana’s return. She looks flustered and stressed, but it shifts into an almost look of guilt, as she starts apologizing, “oh my God, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” he answers, honestly. 

Solana moves over and crouches down in front of them. “She must be getting sleepy. She likes to be held when she’s tired.” Solana is careful in the way she takes Raya into her arms, murmuring something in Spanish and kissing her temple. Gaze back to Roman, she says, almost sadly, “I should get her back home….”

Her statement breaks Roman from this strange mental space finds himself in. Shaking his head, he clears his throat, “yeah, of course.”

Solana offers a small smile, looking around the room. “I can lay her down for a few minutes to clean—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismisses. “I can do it when I get back.”

“Roman, no, I can’t just leave this here—”

“Solana, it’s fine,” he interrupts, explaining as she straightens up and he stands from the sofa. He can just move most of the items into one of his guest rooms, but not everything. Roman already knows a couple of the toys Raya would probably want to have at home, especially the teddy bear. 

He noticed she seemed to really like that one the most of them all. 

“Okay,” Solana finally agrees with a defeated sigh, eyes shifting a bit as she stammers, “do you….do you have something to do later?”

Roman looks at her with a quizzical expression. “No. Why?”

Obvious hesitation, as she nervously licks her lips. “It….it only takes me about half an hour to get her down for bed, so if you want to stick around so we can…..talk, we—we can do that.”

His smirk is unavoidable, Roman already feeling a tightening in his pants at the visual of them talking.

Warm gaze raking in over her body, imagining her naked and wanton on top of him, his reply is an easy one. “We can talk all night, if you want.”

—---------

As Roman sits on the sofa in Solana’s apartment, waiting for her to get Raya down for bed, he finds himself catching up on some work shit that’s transpired while he was spending the day with the mother and daughter duo.

Nothing serious. Nothing his sister and Wise Man couldn’t handle for the time being, though she loathed the vague answer he gave her when she asked why he’d been MIA all day. Not surprising. 

Rosalia has always disliked being kept out of the loop.

A necessity though, as Roman wants to keep Solana as far away from that as long as possible. 

Raya, too, for that matter. 

And in thinking about keeping people away, Roman finds himself sending out a text to one of his good, longtime friends and hitman. 

Roman: Carmelo Hayes. Spring Hills apartments. Building 2. 

Dean Ambrose: Yo. What ya wanting done?

What Roman wants and what he can realistically have done right now are two different things, because what he’d like is to find this bastard’s apartment himself and be the one to see to it that he never bothers Solana again. 

Ever. 

Or anyone, for that matter.

But, that’s too risky, too soon. He, himself, can’t make such a bold move.

Not yet, anyway.

So, he’ll have to settle for a simple, or not so simple, beating. 

Roman: Fuck him up. Don’t kill him, but something close.

Dean Ambrose: You got it, dude. 

Roman chuckles, imagining the childlike excitement in Ambrose's eyes at the chance to act on his sadistic, violent impulses. A true treat for the eccentric man.

The next thing on his list is arranging to have a security detail patrolling Solana's apartment complex at all times. Another trailing her outings to work and elsewhere.

He won't take any risks regarding the safety of mother nor daughter.

Roman also utilizes the time to message his driver, informing him to be ready to come pick him up in two to three hours, because the Tribal Chief has every intention of leaving the keys to the Range Rover in Solana’s apartment.

She doesn’t need to be taking the damn bus. Especially not with Raya. It’s too dangerous. 

He’d just pay to get her car repaired for her, but there’s something he likes better about her driving his car. A possessive thing, he might even admit. With good intentions, though. 

Always.

“Hey.”

Solana pulls him from his thoughts as well as his focus on the phone in his hand. She’s standing before him with an almost nervous expression. 

Roman sits forward, tossing his phone to the side. Beckoning her over with his finger, his eyes don’t leave her as she climbs onto his lap, dress raised as she straddles him. He needs a distraction from the fact that clothes are the only thing keeping that part of him from that part of her. “She sleep?”

Solana nods. “When she’s tired, she taps out pretty quickly.”

That makes sense, Roman thinks. Baby girl was almost entirely knocked out just in the few minutes he held her. 

“Roman…..” Her hands move to the bottom of his shirt. “I really did enjoy today. It’s….it’s the nicest day I’ve had in a while.”

He agrees, wholeheartedly, but there’s something underneath said statement. “But?”

She closes her eyes, asking in a small voice. “How is this supposed to work?”  

He doesn’t hesitate to seek clarification. “What do you mean?”

She takes a deep breath. “I’m okay with us having sex. I want that, but….it’s hard for me to understand you being so nice and generous to me, and even Raya, and not feel like the sex is….payment of some sort.” Eyes opening, she starts to shake her head, “because if that’s the case—”

“It’s not,” he cuts her off, tone almost hardened as he moves his hands up her back. “Everything I did for you today, for Raya, was because I wanted to. And not because I was expecting anything in return. I told you that before.”

“I wanna believe that, but….” She pushes back some of her hair, further explaining, “it’s just that most men don’t—”

“I’m not most men.” Not even in the slightest. In ways she could probably never fully understand. “But, I am very interested in you. I told you that before, too. That I wanted to see where this goes, and I don’t know about you, but so far, I think it’s going pretty damn well.”

Because, it is. There was something both relaxing and rewarding. Spending the day with her. Even Raya. All so simple and easy, and in a world where everything is usually anything but that for the Mafia Head, he appreciates it. 

And doesn’t want to let go. 

She doesn’t disagree with him, just continues to be honest. “I guess I also don’t want you to feel like….like I’m using you or something.”

At that, Roman chuckles and moves one hand to her cheek. “Solana, you looked physically sick the whole time we were shopping. You’re the last person I’d ever suspect that from.” Most women would have walked up and down that damn department store trying to get him to buy them any and everything they could get their hands on. Solana was the complete opposite. 

Her intentions are pure.

Just like her.

A true unicorn in the life he’s always lived, most of which is why Roman is certain he finds himself so drawn to her.

“It was a lot of money, Roman,” she protests, weakly. 

“To you,” he counters. “Solana, money is not something I’ve ever had to worry about and never will, but I recognize that’s not been the case for you.” He also gets the sense it’s a moderate problem for her right now, based upon the fact she can’t even afford to get her car repaired. “So, if you need something, you just have to ask.”

She looks uncomfortable, frowning almost, “Roman—”

“I get it may feel too soon, and I respect that. Just know the offer is there for you.” Roman can see it’ll take time for her to come around and accept his help, that he’ll have to ease his way into things, so he’ll wait for it. Wait for her to come to him when she’s ready. In the meantime, he’ll have to sprinkle little things along the way. “And we don’t have to do anything—”

“No,” she cuts him off, shaking her head and moving her hands up his chest. “I want to. I just…..I just needed to know where we stand and how this is going to work. That’s….that’s all.”

Roman sits up further, pressing her against him as he moves his thumb across her bottom lip. “I told you before, you’re mine. You need something, I got you. You want some dick, I definitely got you there.” Her eyes flutter shut, and Roman smirks feeling the way she’s shifting atop him. “And judging by the look on your face, that second thing is exactly what you wanting right now.”

Solana lays her head on his shoulder as he drops his hand from her face to her ass, squeezing her supple cheeks. “Please…..”

He makes a sound. “First, you gotta tell me when I can see you again.” Roman easily glides his hand from her ass to the side of her thigh, working his way past where the material of her dress is ruffled to the smoothness of her thick thigh. “A week is too damn long….” His mouth moves to her neck as she grasps at the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Roman, I—I work,” she breathes out, shifting once more as he sneaks his hand in between her legs, long fingers teasing her underwear. “Oh, shit.”

“I’m aware,” he chuckles, amused and also turned on by how she wiggles closer to him, eager for his fingers as they slide past the damp cotton of her panties. “And, I don’t care. We gotta figure something out.” 

“Roman,” she moans, hands gripping his shoulders as he enters one digit inside her wet, tight cunt. “P–please.”

He works her with his fingers, his mouth sucking on her neck before he asks in the calmest voice, “you gonna let me see you more often?” Finalized with the entering of another digit as she bucks against his hand.

She’s practically in tears, crying out against him, nails pressed into his skin through his shirt. “Yes, fuck, whatever—whatever you want.” 

Pleased with her agreement, Roman pulls his hand from her, chuckling when she whines against him. “You work tomorrow?”

His question as well as him stopping altogether have her pulled back and scowling. “No.” Moving once again on his lap, she's clearly feeling the growing erection underneath her. “Why–why’d you stop?”

The answer is simple. “Because I need a bed for everything I want to do to you, and I needed to know how much time I have.” 

His answer has her swallowing as she shares in a small voice, “she….she usually sleeps through the night.”

Roman smiles. Music to his fucking ears. 

Standing up, holding her up by her ass, he asks, “where’s your bedroom?”

At some point, he’ll have to issue a new text to his driver.

He won’t need them anytime soon.

Or at all, tonight.

[elderwisp]

◁ || ▷

Atlas: I can’t believe you’re gonna let me read this.

Taryn: Only a paragraph.

Atlas: gimmie. Holy shit you’re blind.

Taryn: No me digas. Wait, let me skip over that-

Atlas: Why?

Taryn: Because I don’t want you to read it-

Atlas: It’s fine.

Taryn: Uh, no. Close your eyes. 

Atlas: Is it smut? Oh my god it’s smut-

Taryn: It’s not smut!

Atlas: Hah… HAHA! Let me see.

Taryn: No!

Atlas: Lemme see!

Taryn: Please no!

Atlas: Alright! Alright! Although I'm curious why you're so afraid of me looking. 

Taryn: It isn’t smut, it’s a really rough draft of some poetry. That’s all you gotta know. 

Atlas: Ah, top secret. I see, I see. 

Taryn: You sure about that? Your eyes are twitching. 

Atlas: My eyes hurt a bit. 

Taryn: Well duh. 

Atlas: No because I have contacts in as well. 

Taryn: Are you- WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! 

Atlas: hehe

[ door opens ]

Atlas: Hola, chaparrito.

Kai: [ mumbles ] Hey guys.

Taryn: I left you some food in the fridge.

Kai: Thanks.

Atlas: I’ll be back. So…

Kai: So?

Atlas: How are… Things?

Kai: Things… Huh. I don’t know, maybe if you were around more, you’d know.

Atlas: I apologize, I know I haven’t been the best friend but I’m working on it.

Kai: Right, you look like you’re doing such a wonderful job.

Atlas: Kai, do not get snarky with me. I said I was sorry, okay?!

Kai: Atlas! Be fucking forreal, you disappear into the fucking back rooms for weeks and pop out like nothing happens.

Atlas: [ stifled laughter ] …Backrooms? Sorry, okay serious. 

Kai: You’re such a- GOD you piss me off. 

Atlas: I’m aware. Listen, I’ll make it up to you. Next week let’s go skating with Dan, yeah?

Kai: …

Atlas: Come on, Kai, say something.

Kai: Don’t be late.

Atlas: I won’t! Promise.

Kai: Fine. [ smek! ]

Atlas: Ow!

[macsimagines]

hi, could i have some headcanons regarding draken babytrapping the reader? like, what event triggers his decision to babytrap you, how he does it, etc. thanks

Forreal one of my biiiiiig kinks. And Draken is sooooo zaddy

TW: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MINOR DNI, NSFW, BABY-TRAPPING, NONCON BABY MAKING, JFC WHAT DID I JUST WRITE.

Yandere!Draken (Ken Ryuguji)

Ok so, it takes a lot to get him to this point. I personally think the reason he holds out on love and relationships so often is because of his upbringing and he's got insecurities about having kids.

He'd never abandon them, but he always feels like something in him is broken and unfit. Like he'll taint them and they'd be better off without him in the picture and then that turns into "Maybe I really would leave, maybe I really shouldn't have them, maybe-"

Ya It goes on. But with you? Oh he wants it all with you. Nice house, beautiful kids, maybe even a dumb dog in the backyard.

But you're holding out on him. Keeping him at a distance. He finally let you in and it's like you're reeling back.

This asshole is the type to go through your shit and he doesn't like when he finds the texts to your friends. 'He's gotten super possessive lately. IDK what to do. He keeps demanding I tell him where I'm going and who I'm gonna be with. I'm thinkin of ending things...'

Nope. You're not going anywhere. He pretends like he didn't read it but oof the next time you guys have sex its wild.

holding your ankles up to your ears and pistoling that dick into you like his life depends on it. He made you cum already but he keeps going like you're not crying for mercy.

"C'mon, who makes you feel this good baby? Tell me! Tell me how good Daddy makes you feel!" and you're hiccuping his name, sniffling how good daddy is through your tears, and he's not relenting and not stopping the goddamn beating he's giving your cervix.

"That's it baby! Take it all fer me, make me a Daddy! Fuck-Y/N~" And he's spilling a load that has you blacking out for a solid minute, but Draken Keeps his dick stuffed in you making sure every drop goes where it needs to.

Even when he's pulled out he's kissing you stupid again, fingers making sure to keep you nice and plugged up, not letting a single drop get out of your pussy.

You're fucked to stupid to realize he forgot the condom and he already hid your birth control a week ago. You did tell him that you needed to be careful until you got your refill, but he thinks he's being very careful in making sure you're not going anywhere.

[716chr]

“WE ARE M・T・T・B” - Chapter 6

📍 HAMA House - Practice Room

Chihiro: And a turn here!

Muneuji - Toi - Kiroku: Got it!

Ten: (Oh boy.)

Chihiro: ‘Kay, Munecchi, show us the full routine next~.

Muneuji: Understood.

Chihiro: ……。

Muneuji: Do a backstep…… Then take 3 steps up.

Chihiro: ……。

Muneuji: And then move into an attitude-like position…..

Chihiro: ……Hmm~. Your flow is perfect, and you’re hitting the right rhythm, but your movements still seem a bit stiff.

Chihiro: How about…… That’s right! Maybe you should try moving like a cat? Be all graceful and smooth!

Muneuji: Hm, understood. I’ll try that.

Chihiro: Alright, Tonya, you’re up next~!

Toi: Here goes….

Toi: Get in position…… and strike a cat pose…..!

Chihiro: Yass, that was totes cute, you’re killin’ it ♪ Your endurance’s definitely improved too. But Chii can feel that you’re still trying to be like Chii.

Toi: That’s right….! I had Chihiro-kun’s dances burned into the back of my eyelids….!

Chihiro: Much thankies ♪ But honestly, I wanna see more of your own unique flair, Tonya!

Chihiro: Your cat pose is, like, super adorbs, so how ‘bout throwin’ in some more cat-like moves that you can come up with, even during a dance routine?

Toi: G-Got it! I’ll give that a try….!

Chihiro: And lastly, Kirokkuma~!

Kiroku: Y-Yes.

Kiroku: ……。

Kiroku: Kick, turn….. Move into…..Charleston.

Chihiro: Kirokkuma, your moves are straight up vibes! You totally nailed the sharpness and the style ♪

Chihiro: But you still have the habit of hunching over, so try dancing with your chest out more!

Kiroku: Y-Yes…. sir.

Chihiro: Mmkay everyone, let’s go through with it one more time~.

Ten: ……。

Chihiro: Munecchi, you gotta be a cat! Be-a-cat! Let’s get you loosen up with 100 hula hoop spins.

Muneuji: Huff, huff…. This strain in my waist is very intense….! But I can feel myself getting more flexible.

Chihiro: Tonya, focus on yourself in the mirror! Let yourself become one with your movements and just be your true self ♪

Toi: O-Okay….!

Chihiro: Kirokkuma, this is for you ♪ It’s the Posture Purrfecter (*)….. aka a stick! Now strap it to your back like this~!

Kiroku: My spine…. is being…. rearran….ged.

Ten: (Oh wow~ This is turning out like some old sports anime training arc. Oh well, guess I'll just go with the flow…..)

Chihiro: (Hmm~…. They’re getting better overall, but something still feels off and I can’t put my finger on it.)

Chihiro: (It’s hard to explain…. It's like my gut feeling. Maybe if I take a step back and look at things more objectively, I might be able to figure out what’s wrong…..)

Chihiro: …..I wish we had some sort of footage of our dancing for times like this.

Chihiro: We had everything recorded for Ev3ns, but I totally forgor this time~…..

Kiroku: Ah…. Well, in that…. case…. here…

Ten: Hm? This is…?

Muneuji: Now that you mentioned it, Kinugawa have been recording our routines up until now, just in case they might be of use.

Kiroku: I…. borrowed the tripod… from Isotake….

Chihiro: Forreal!? Thanks a bunch, Kirokkuma ♪ Let’s watch it together right now.

Chihiro: ……。

Ten: ……。

Chihiro: (……Interesting. Each one of them dance with a different style, but they’re pretty solid on their own. Not exactly skilled by any means, but they have a certain rough charm to them….)

Chihiro: …..Maybe that weird feeling Chii had earlier was because of this~

Ten: Weird feeling?

Chihiro: Yeah. Since we decided to all wear masks, Chii thought it’d be best if we made our dance more in sync…… but guess that was a flop idea from the beginning.

Chihiro: Making it all uniformed just doesn’t seem right anymore.

Ten: .... Then why not just do the tournament as is?

Chihiro: Huh?

Ten: I mean, there's only a week left till the real deal, right? Why stress trying to get it perfect when we can just—

Chihiro: Ten-cham….., that’s a genius idea!!

Ten: ……Oho?

Chihiro: Our team is still fresh, so of course we can’t really beat the pros out there. But our individualities are absolutely unmatched.

Chihiro: So, instead of aiming for “Coordinated group dancing is beautiful and awesome”, wouldn’t it be better to put the spotlight onto our individual styles!?

Muneuji - Toi - Kiroku: ……。

Muneuji: I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I’m following…..

Chihiro: Oh, sowwy! In short, how ‘bout we cat-apult our theme into somethin’ mew? (*)

Kiroku: Huh….. R-Right…. now….?

Chihiro: No worries, we’ll only make changes that stay within our limits. So everyone, eyes on the whiteboard~.

Chihiro: Our new theme… will be this!

Toi: “Any-and-all formulas ditched”?

Muneuji: “Individuality embraced, carefree and easygoing…”?

Kiroku: “Cat….. Dance”…..?

Chihiro: …….So, what’d you think, meow?

Muneuji - Toi - Kiroku: We love it!

Chihiro: Ten-cham, what ‘bout you!?

Ten: Oh yeah, that's totally fine with me~. Cats are the kind of critters that like to do whatever they want, after all~.

Chihiro: You don’t sound too hyped but okie dokes, good enough~~~ ♪ Mmkay, let’s rework our structure and get right to practicing!

Muneuji - Toi - Kiroku: Yessir~!

Chihiro: (……I’m sure our performance will be amazing. And each member’s unique personality and charm will be able to shine beautifully on stage.)

Chihiro: (I’m sure of it….!)

TL Notes:

猫背矯正ギブス when translated literally would be “Cat Posture Correction Cast”. So to make it cat-themed, I decided to translate it as “Posture Purrfecter”

Chihiro started adding “nya” to the end of this sentence and the “what’d you think” sentence so, again, to make this flow in english, I just incorporated cat puns into this sentence. In case you’re wondering what the sentence is without the puns, it’s “how ‘bout we catapult our theme into something new?”

[binochu]

Spellbound - Harvey x Female Farmer

Chapter 3, Part 1 - Doomsday

You think things are bad now? Well, they're about to get worse.

CW: drinking and some light smut.

The heat and humidity today are beyond intense and the afternoon sun is cooking my back as I huff around town with a crate full of slightly delayed deliveries. Ideally, I would have spread them out throughout the week, but being in town puts me at risk of running into him.

So, here I am, lugging around a massive crate with my bad hand and wishing I would have just bitten the bullet and kept to my normal routine. The walk felt longer than usual but I finally made it to town in one piece.

I round the corner of the clinic and duck underneath the window as I pass by, bee-lining it to Pierre’s to drop off my first delivery. 

The next challenge was getting through the door, preferably without having to set down my crate.

The stupid thing is “pull” so I’m fumbling at the handle with my elbow and slowly inching the door open.

“Need some help?”

I have to hold back an audible sigh.

I glance behind me, the voice belongs to some guy I don’t recognize. He’s got blond spikes for hair and a busted denim jacket on. 

“Uhh, sure,” I reply.

He takes the crate from my hands with a big grin.

“You’re the new farm girl, right?” he asks.

“Yeah, that’s me,” I reply, opening the door for him to walk inside.

“Where do you want this?”

“Right here is fine,” I gesture towards the stockroom door. 

He sets down the crate and I start unpacking Pierre’s order.

I was hoping he’d get the message that I’m busy and he should probably leave but instead, he leans against the wall and watches me work.

“I’m Sam, by the way,” he says.

“Bino,” I say as dry as possible.

“Your overalls are cute.”

I cringe at whatever that was an attempt at and manage a simple, “Thanks,” in return.

“I saw you dancing with the doctor at the Flower Dance,” he unfortunately keeps talking, “You guys seemed… close.”

I can’t hold back the sigh this time.

“Not really.”

“Right,” he pauses, “What do you think of Pelican Town so far?”

“It’s nice.”

Is he into this or something? I swear I’m being dryer than dry.

“So…” he says awkwardly glancing around, “Got any plans later?”

Ugh.

Honestly, though, I don’t. Not a single plan, in fact. 

Unless you count manifesting bad luck into Harvey’s life, then yes, I’ll be very busy.

So, I consider it. What could go wrong if I entertain him? I might actually have some fun, meet new people, and get my mind off of Harvey. I’d have to put up with him but he probably won’t be too bad after a couple of beers, maybe even a little cuter.

“I don’t, actually.”

“Forreal!?” 

“Yeah, you asking me out somewhere?”

“Uh, well,” he thinks for a second, “We can meet up at the saloon tonight at seven!”

“Sounds good,” I reply, “I have some work to finish though, so I’ll catch you later, okay?”

“Right!” he laughs awkwardly, “I’ll see you later!”

When he finally walks away and I finish organizing Pierre’s massive order, I pack up and make the rest of my deliveries for the day.

Back at the farmhouse, I start to feel embarrassingly excited about going out tonight. After showering and blow-drying my hair, I pick out some mid-rise jeans and a slightly revealing tank top. I even put on some makeup, like how I used to back in Zuzu City. The ensemble kind of distracts the eye from my bandaged hand.

Before heading out the door, I analyze myself in the mirror. My breasts are slightly bulging over the edges of my top and my jeans squeeze into the soft areas of my belly, some spillage. I can’t help but imagine what Harvey would think seeing me like this. Would he like it? Would he even want to? There’s a familiar pang in my chest.

I stop myself there. Before I change my mind and overthink everything, grab my purse and bolt out the door in my lucky boots.

prev. chapter | next chapter

[jqmalikhsgib]

too sweet

one

eddie covers his eyes as he walks out of his apartment complex in new york. the paparazzi blinds him with the flashes of their cameras as they ask him a bunch of questions. Eddie’s simply ignores them before getting into the back seat of his car as his driver takes off.

he pulls out his cell phone to call his manager. they were on their way to pick up the younger, curly haired boy.

“henderson, be outside when we pull up! i don’t want to be late. i got shit to do man.”

“yeah, what’s that? hang out with yn all day?”

he could almost hear the boy smirking. “none of your business. just be outside.” eddie ends the call before sighing.

he opens up his messages before smiling. yn had texted him a cute little photo of her holding the plush pillow he’d bought her last week. she looked adorable as always.

it’s been six amazing months with her. he fell for her so hard and fast, like no other. before dating yn, eddie had been sleeping with whoever wanted to get into the rockstars pants. he lived the rockstar dream forreal. sex, drugs, and rock and roll. his friends were either dating or married by now. eddie thought he was still to young to settle down. he’s had only been twenty-nine after all. but on his thirtieth birthday, when most of his friends from high school had canceled coming to his party, he’d been alone with strangers or some celebrities he barely even knew.

he looked around and felt alone. when he saw yn his heart skipped a beat—or maybe it was the cocaine he’d consumed just ten minutes before—and he felt alive again. at first he ignored his heart beating out of his chest and the butterflies in in stomach. he’d thought he’d just fuck her, tell her to leave his apartment the next morning, and be labeled as an asshole once more by another artist who assumed they’d start dating soon after.

yn was completely different. as soon as he approached her, she’d roll her eyes at him, call him a junkie loser, and went off to find her best friend who forced her into coming here. that made the metal head open his eyes. no woman has ever turned him down—at least not since high school—but here he was, being called out by the most beautiful woman he’d seen.

eddie had to know who was. finding out she’d been a famous rapper, he contacted her agent, got her information, and met her at an award show. when he saw her again she’d look amazing. during the after party, he walked over to her again and had to know what turned her off.

yn shrugs her shoulders and let him know she’s dated nothing but drunken, drug addicted, losers in her life and was done picking up the pieces for them. she wanted someone stable who could take care of her and visa versa. a healthier relationship where she didn’t have to babysit a man. eddie understood that. it wasn’t like he was addicted to drugs, he was addicted to partying, but he knew if he wanted a chance with yn he’d have to change.

so, he asked for a chance. she was very hesitant until she agreed three weeks later. since eddie has cleaned up his act. he stopped partying so much and started taking yn out instead. he’d take her to the fanciest restaurants, closing it down for the evening. but she wasn’t into that.

yn told him she’d be fine, perfect even, if someone would simply take her to any fast food restaurant and get the most fatty foods their were and cuddle on the couch while watching some sitcom. eddie provided her with just that. from that moment he fell for her. she wasn’t like these other hollywood superficial stuck up brats like he’d seen over the last eight years of being in the spotlight, no! she was just like him.

she grew up in texas. the neighborhood she was raised wasn’t exactly the greatest. she learned a lot from her mother but her father hadn’t been a good man and was arrested when she was just six years old. her mother died two years later in a car accident. she’d been raised by her grandmother from that moment on. eddie started to love her more and more as the time went by.

eddie had thought long and hard about asking her to move in with him. he knew they’d only been together for six months but he knows she’s it for him. all his life all he’s ever wanted love and support. he’d have it in his uncle for years, his friends, and even bought love once he became successful. but he’s never had something like this before. he wants to wake up next to her and go right back to bed the next night. eddie thought about the life they’d have together. one day he will marry her and maybe have a couple of babies running around. he knew it may seemed fast, but yn was the one. he made up his mind last night. he’s gonna ask her tonight after dinner and hope to god she says yes.

when eddie arrives to dustin’s penthouse he sees the younger boy kiss suzie before hopping in the backseat of the car next to eddie.

“hey dude!”

eddie had hired dustin to be his manager once the boy graduated high school in hawkins. dustin was someone who had amazing planning set skills, he’s organized, and unfortunately the kid was right—and very condescending about it—all the time! dustin was the perfect person to manage his schedule. on top of that he knew dustin. he would wasn’t like these hollywood elites who wanted nothing but half of your earnings for doing the bare minimum. he knew dustin wouldn’t screw him over.

“what’s on the agenda today, henderson?”

dustin grabs his folder and reads over eddie’s schedule. eddie didn’t have much planned today. he’d mostly just be doing a few meet and greets with fans, promoting corroded coffins third studio album coming out in june.

“after you’ll have the next two days to just relax. i was thinking maybe we could call up el to hang out. she’d been a little down since the break up.” dustin states.

eddie sighs.

he hated that eleven was going through this break up with mike. all those little rascals were like little siblings to him. though it felt like him and steve were more like co parents to them than anything, he loved them all unconditionally. still, he knew mike had been fighting his feelings for will for so long. it was only a matter of time before mike finally confessed to will how much he loved him. it couldn’t be easy though. with will being her step brother and both him and el still living with their parents, he knew mike would still be coming over. it sucked seeing them together, he’s certain. he remembers the same thing happening when nancy broke things off with jonathan to be with steve again.

he knew just like jonathan, el would move on and find someone for her.

“it depends how tonight goes for me.”

dustin frowns. “what’s happened tonight?”

“im gonna ask yn to move in with me.” eddie smiles hugely. dustin stares at him long and hard. he bites his bottom lip trying to keep whatever he thought to himself. eddie noticed and nudged him.

“what’s with this look, henderson?”

“it’s just—don’t you think you’re moving a little too fast? i mean you just barely said ‘i love you’ to this girl. are you sure you’re ready for this big of commitment? she hasn’t even met any of us yet.”

“yeah, so?”

“eddie, she hasn’t met wayne yet! that’s the most important person in your life. how could you be ready to move this girl in when you barely know her? im just saying, have you thought all this through?”

“dustin, you don’t get it man. ive never felt this way about anyone before. i love her and im ready to take this step. i thought it all through. every last bit of information, every pro, every con, everything man! if i wasn’t sure, one hundred percent, i wouldn’t be asking.”

dustin hums. “i just think she should meet your family first. in fact you should probably meet hers if it’s that serious.”

eddie thought about it before they pulled up to the center eddie was meeting with fans.

when eddie got home he sighs as he takes off his dirty clothes before hopping in the shower. he thought about what dustin said once more before getting out and ready for his date.

he knew how he felt for yn. he knew she was the one for him. he knew he wanted her here everyday, but dustin had a point.

wayne wasn’t just his uncle. he’d been the man that raised him when his mom ran off with some rich asshole and his dad got arrested for nearly killing someone. wayne was more of a father than his real dad. he was the most important person in his life along with the rest of the people from hawkins. they were his family. if he wanted yn to be apart of his life he’d have to introduce them at some point. eddie smiles as he texted everyone, letting them know he’s having a get together im hawkins soon and everyone better show up or he’d knock on their doors and force them onto the plane himself.

when he heard his door bell ring he got up and opened the door. there stood his beautiful girlfriend. yn smiles shyly as always before eddie kisses her cheek and allows her in.

“you look amazing, sweetheart. absolutely gorgeous as always.” eddie states.

“thanks, eds. you look handsome as always.”

“sorry im running a little late, babe. i had to sign a few autographs and take some photos.”

“yeah? how were the fans?”

“amazing as always! they’re all excited about the album coming. one of them asked about you.”

yn blush. they’d been keeping their relationship a secret for awhile now. it wasn’t too much of a secret, really. they’d been seen going out to dinner, having lunch, walking hand and hand occasionally. it was out there, but neither of them confirmed nor denied the rumors. though they did recently had their fans go crazy. eddie had only been following corroded coffins official page for years. recently he followed yn. yn on the other hand hadn’t followed anyone until she followed eddie back. the internet is losing their shit over eddie and yn new found relationship. the two didn’t mind though. they loved their fans but they also loved a little chaos and drama more.

“yeah? what’d they say?”

“they said my girlfriend is the prettiest woman out there and asked if we’re ever gonna confirm we’re dating.” eddie wraps his arms around her waist.

“hmm, what did you say in response?”

“i just said thank you and took the photo.”

“not suspicious at all.”

“i don’t think so.” eddie said smugly.

yn kisses him passionately. eddie hums before pulling away while yn groans. “later. i wanna take my beautiful girl out, show the world she’s mine, then bring her back home and maybe dance to some cheesy ass song, yeah?”

“that sounds great, eds. come on! im starved.”

eddie chuckles before grabbing his keys as the couple leave his penthouse and head out to dinner.

um—do you guys like this? is it worth asking if you want to be on the taglist? i kind a just stopped asking and stopped adding people to any taglist because i thought maybe my stories weren’t that good.

im self doubting honestly. i even thought about quitting and deleting everything i wrote. idk anymore.

anyway, tell me how you feel. hope you like it, really.

[alliskit]

The Grand Design.

On AO3.

TW: 18+. THE NEXT SEVERAL CHAPTERS will include depictions of abuse and violence. It addresses sexual abuse themes and includes explicit sexual content. Sadly, I wouldn’t suggest skipping it this chapter, but pieces of it will be addressed within other chapters. As for the others I will leave a notice for what to skip.

Song I had on repeat while writing this:

CH. 7: Vanpires Ar Reall.

- The Prelude - The Show - The Encore (Astarion POV)

There are so many eventualities that I could have planned for, but this. The week from utter hell. This never could have plagued my already dark imaginations. It is natural for me to think the worst, for survival purposes, but when I was surprised by something much scarier than I could have ever dreamt, it threw me.

[Astarion Note: Yes, I give you express permission to break our pact so you may include and take to print the events that occurred. They were just as much a living nightmare for me, but I had already lived a much worse one. I'm so sorry, always.]

We set down for the night in an ancient druid sanctuary under a large tree canopy. We decided we needed come up with a better strategy to approach the hag in her own domain. What did we have that could be used to bargain and were we equipped to take her on if things went south?

Wyll took up cooking duties so Gale could study up on different hags and their powers. The evening was somber and quiet. Most of my companions spent the evening sharpening weapons and checking spells. Wyll took a walk after dinner. Gale said it was to probably converse with his patron on how to deal with the hag, if Wyll could still communicate with them under the tadpole's interference.

The moon was bright through the branches, sky clear. It was beautiful. I could feel the tension of my camp mates, even if I had no real sense of what we were going to deal with. I sat down next to Gale, watching Astarion and Durge chat in front of the tent beside his.

"How's the study?"

He peeked up from his book propped in his lap. "It's... Well, I'm not quite sure what to expect. I would rather not have any dealings with a hag, but she didn't make any promises to get you home, so I'm inclined to think this may be a more peaceful encounter."

"What should we expect?" I watched Astarion tap a finger on Durge's chest, then make a snarky face, flirting. 

"We should expect that she doesn't think we know she's a hag, but when we request something of her, she will reveal what she is and expect payment of some kind. Usually, it is something hard to pay."

I nodded, "Well, she is the one who made the offer, so maybe she'll be amiable. Maybe, she won't ask for anything."

He watched me blankly, "Doubtful, but I like your positivity."

I tapped his knee with my hand. "Your food is probably cold by now. Don't waste it." I thumbed toward the bowl of soup sitting on the edge of the rug. 

He looked at it, then went back to his book, "I'll get around to it." Then more to himself, "Wouldn't want to disappoint Tara."

"Who's Tara?"

His eyes shot to me, "Oh, I didn't mean to say that out loud. She's my tressym."

"A tressym?"

He smiled, "Only the best animals there are. Very intelligent and gifted wielders."

"Animals can wield magic?"

He hummed, "Oh, yes. But, very few. Tressyms are one such exceptional beings. I summoned her myself and she never left my side. Well, she didn't join me at the Academy or Blackstaff, but was close by, nonetheless."

"What do they look like?" He seemed to be talking around something or he forgot I wouldn't have any frame of reference.

"I take it there are no tressyms on your planet."

I shook my head. 

"Gosh, what a drab plane of existence... no tressyms. Well, they look like house cats with wings." He rubbed the back of his neck as he shook his head in disbelief.

"We have something similar in mythology, like the sphinx, but no, we don't have them forreal."

"Very sad, indeed. If we get ourselves out of this mess, and you have found it in yourself to have a little adventure before you pop home, time willing, I could..." His eyes searched mine, like he was looking for something, hoping, as he said the rest of his thought. "Introduce you to her in Waterdeep. Waterdeep is called the City of Splendors for a reason." His mouth lifted in a soft smile as he watched me. 

I watched him back. I wasn't sure why he would seem nervous about the idea of introducing me to his pet, but sometimes people viewed their pets much like a child. I wouldn't introduce just anyone to Sylas. I smiled back, "I'd like that. I take it's on the water?"

A playful glint lit his eyes, "Yes, very much so. As is my tower. The waves crash below the portico and you can watch the sunset over the ocean."

Impressive, and definitely something I wanted to see, "Well, if you're offering to host, I'll have to take you up on the offer. It sounds enchanting."

The playful glint faded into something pleased. "I think she would really like you."

I watched him a moment, considering everything he'd said to describe his cat, "Does she talk?"

He laughed. "In a way. When a tressym has bonded with someone, you can hear them without a spell or potion, otherwise you'll need to cast speak with animals."

"Ah, interesting. I wish we had bonds like that back home. Would solve a lot of problems. Though, I imagine I'd just hear my dog asking for a ball or outside a hundred times a day."

He smiled, "Oh, she definitely is quite insistent at meal times."

"Sounds like a cat."

His brow perked, "She's so much more."

"All pet owners think that. I would know. I'm guilty of it too."

He bumped me with an elbow, "I should get back to it. I would hate to be literally blindsided."

I pushed to standing, noticing Astarion and Durge again. They were still getting cozy, Astarion leaning in a little more as he spoke low. I left them to it. Better they have each other than have Durge lean on me. 

Though, as I passed them, I heard a small whistle. I turned to see Durge wink and wave in my direction. Astarion watched Durge, annoyed. I bid them both goodnight.

The rest of the night was uneventful. My sleep was as dismal as it had been the last few days.

I could have cursed the sun for rising. I hoped, due to the immense stress of my latest adventure, it might delay the inevitable. But, no. The inevitable was exactly on time, with the worst timing imaginable: I had my period.

Luckily, it wouldn’t be heavy for another day or so. I had time to ask Shadowheart or Lae’zel about options, if they even bled to begin with. It would be just my luck if neither of their races had to deal with this regularly.

We had a quick breakfast and made our way back through the swamp. Gale perked up when we located a waypoint. "If this does go well, and you feel safe staying behind, we can, hopefully, get you back much quicker this way."

I eyed the purple runes. "Will it work on me?"

He paused. The others watched him. "Actually... I'm not sure. Possibly not. I guess we will have to see at another time."

We continued on our way. We came upon three staircases. A voice called to us from the top of the stone one to our left. Waiting and waving was a smiling worn traveler armed with a large crossbow.

"Excuse the aroma: powdered iron-vine."

Wyll pushed through the group to the front, his pack jostling with the movement, "An old hunter's trick."

"Yes, if you can't mask your scent, spoil it."

Wyll put out his hand, "The Blade of Frontiers, at your service."

The man shook it, "It's nice to put a face to the name."

A voice cut in from the back of the group: Astarion. "You're a monster hunter? I thought all Gur were vagrant cutthroats."

The rest of us flipped our heads to our companion, confused and surprised at the sudden bigotry and the fact he felt the need to speak up at all.

The man laughed, unphased by the prejudice. "And more. We steal chickens, curse crops, seduce your daughters. If only my people had half the powers others think we possess. Alas, we are simple wanderers. I'm a simple wanderer and monster hunter."

"What monster are you hunting?" Wyll asked.

"I'm hunting a vampire spawn."

Wyll twisted back to us, "See I told you! It was a vampire bite. I'm not an idiot."

There was a round of rolled eyes and guffaws. 

"You've seen proof of the spawn in the area? How long ago and where?" The hunter's interest was piqued.

"Up past Moonhaven to the east. There's a grove nearby and there was a boar drained along the road," Wyll replied.

"Oh that's most helpful. I came to seek the hag of these lands to help me flush him out. I feared he'd gone to ground."

"A vampire spawn? But, why?" Astarion asked from behind me.

"Why does it matter?" Shadowheart probed, watching him.

He pierced her with a look. "It seems so specific. There's so many monsters out here."

The hunter smiled softly, "Vampires are parasites and we don't need a reason to destroy them. In this case, it's a sacred mission from the head of my tribe. She has sent me to capture it and return it to her."

Astarion hummed, "Why capture? And bring it where?"

We were all watching Astarion again. Why was he so invested in a random stranger when he was barely interested in the companions he had known for several days? It's not as if he were asking us about our lives. He hadn't talked to us much besides random teasing and shallow meal talk, with an exception to Durge.

"Baldur's Gate."

Wyll lit up, "You're from the Gate?"

As he and the man spoke about the city, which they were both from, I eyed Astarion. He noticed, his eyes narrowing, "Like what you see?" he said harshly.

I didn't reply. I turned back around, but I heard Durge speak to him, "Do calm down, you're positively twitching."

I heard Wyll ask how, Gandrel, now introduced, would catch a vampire spawn. Wyll clearly wanted to make a point to rest of us. "At night, of course." The reply earned snickers and smirks as Wyll stuffed his ire. Gandrel noticed the response and patted Wyll on the shoulder. "But, I can say no more, some trade secrets we cannot share and are best learned."

"How sensible," Astarion quipped.

Everyone eyed him again. Why Astarion felt the need to continue to respond was getting more curious. 

"We should go, we have a hag to see. But, you have fun tracking your monster," he said through the phoniest smile I had ever seen.

Wyll turned and invited Gandrel to join us. I watched Astarion's smarmy mask drop, anxiety in its place. He quickly recovered when Gandrel denied the offer remarking about needing to go his own way to focus on his hunt. Astarion was the first to turn tail and head up toward the next set of stairs. 

I lead us in, since seeing the hag was my idea. The treehouse was a bit down trodden, but quite cute. If I were to live in a tiny fantasy cottage wrapped around a tree, it would have looked very similar. 

I knocked on the doors. The kind voice replied from within, "Come in, come in!"

The inside was just as cozy. The older woman stood before the stone hearth. It looked like she had some tea on. She flicked her gaze to me, lighting up in recognition, "Oh, sweetie, you came! Let me pour you... Oh and you brought friends. Wonderful."

She scurried up the stairs and wrapped me in an embrace. I couldn't help it, she reminded me again so much of my own grandmother, I held her back. I smiled at her as I pulled back, "Remind me your name again?"

"Ethel, but you may call me Auntie, petal," she said rubbing her hand down my arm. "Introduce me to your friends."

I named everyone off as she smiled and nodded along. "I hope the trip in wasn't too harsh. I'm glad you're all in one piece."

I paused, catching her insinuation. Considering I could see all the traps hidden in the muck, I wondered if she thought we couldn't.  I did my best to pretend like I didn't catch her veiled threat. Some of my companions, like Lae'zel, didn't hide their understanding as they watched the woman carefully.

I smiled at her, "These guys are just my chaperones, but I came to talk to you about my predicament since you offered to give me some direction. Do you mind if they set down to rest a little while you and I talk?" 

She nodded kindly at the rest, "Of course, sweetie. Everyone can take a load off, take a nap, talk a walk if you like. I have a kettle on if any of you would like tea. Also, that basket over there is full of apples. Feel free to take one."

I watched my companions spread out. Gale came up next to me, joining Ethel and I. He held his hand to her, "Gale of Waterdeep. I'm a wizard. I can sense a touch of the wilds about you. As another wielder, I am interested in helping our mutual friend find solutions to her problem."

Ethel shook his hand, patting the top, "It is always a pleasure to make an acquaintance with another who is in touch with the Weave. Feel free to give any advice. I'm an old woman, but willing to learn new things. Who knows, she may have found a solution already in your capable hands."

Gale's cheeks heated, "Thank you, Ethel."

"Call me, Auntie."

He nodded as we followed her to a small table at the hearth. She poured us tea as I began to recount my adventures on the Nautiloid and the aftermath. Ethel and Gale eyed each other, faces a bit drawn over what I was saying. 

Ethel laid a hand on my shoulder, leaning towards me, "You've been through so much. Your bravery should be commended. Nautiliods, from the limited knowledge I have, can cross planes. Mind Flayers are from outside of our world as well. I know of portals to cross planes to places directly connected to Toril, like the Feywilds. But, I have never heard of such that cross to planes that are not somehow attached to our own. Though, Earth may simply be one we have yet to record."

Gale nodded, "Mind Flayers are originally from outside our realm, but have made homes here in the material plane, the Astral, and the Shadowfell." Gale leaned on his elbow, supporting his chin with his hand. "I wonder, since the ship did portal through the hells, if the hells aren't the access point. Some planes we can only access from a middle ground. Evereska is essentially a way station between Faerun and the Feywilds, it exists in both and is the only way in."

Both sat speculating to themselves. I spoke up, "Okay, so theories are that either Earth just hasn't been accessed enough to have been written down, maybe it was accessed but those who hopped back and forth thought it was still Toril?"

"That or they were trapped on your end," Gale added.

"Yeah that tracks with some of our conspiracies. The other is that there is a middle plane, like a link between us."

He and Ethel nodded. 

"Okay, so how do we test the theories?"

Ethel tipped her head back and forth, then turned to me, "Portals are big magic. Very time consuming and often are only granted access by the gods or by those with exceptional gifts. I will 'toot my own horn' so to speak that I am one such, but I deal more with portals that move between this realm. I can do some research and some trials, but for the work necessary, I will need payment. I understand you aren't from here, so I am willing to barter creatively."

She put it so nicely, but my heart started to tick in my chest. The familiar throb causing my breath to go shallow. What would she want of me? What could I even offer her? 

Gale saved me. "I can start the research on the hells and if there are any mentions of external planes yet to be understood. Rumors of rumors, so to speak. I can do a sending and see if some colleagues can't help out."

I nodded, "Thank you guys." I turned to Ethel, trying to keep calm, "What were you thinking for payment because, you're right, I have no gold to my name."

She smiled kindly, "Give me the rest of the day. Come back tomorrow and I will have a better idea. I promise it won't be something you can't deliver on."

She offered us more tea, but we declined and made our way back out into the swamp. We waved up at Gandrel as we turned up the opposite stairs, finding a dry spot to set up camp near the treehouse. 

The afternoon was spent behind books or off on walks and finally around the campfire for our meal. The companions watched me at different times. The anxiety induced chest pain hadn't subsided. It was consuming my attention. I found myself habitually rubbing across my diaphragm or stretching just to make space for more air.

I didn't eat much and kept playing out the conversation with Ethel and Gale. I needed some answers to try to help the small spiral I was swirling into. I found Gale flipping through more books again.

I wanted to hug him. He had his own issues to deal with. He didn't need to be worrying about mine. Though, maybe this gave him a focus from the impending doom he felt over his parasite problem. 

I plopped down next to him, "Thanks again for today."

He flashed up, noticing me for the first time. He shook his head, "Oh, it's quite alright."

I smiled, sympathetic, “Still. It's like the ultimate riddle."

A smirk slowly pulled on his face, "I do love riddles."

Shadowheart paused in front of us. "How's the research? Any idea what the hag will want in return for helping you?"

"Shadowheart," Gale chided. "Maybe we leave that particular for tomorrow's problems? Hm?"

She shrugged, "What? I'd be coming up with a list of possibilities and contingencies to barter. You're the scholar, what do you think she would ask of someone who can't do magic and isn't from Toril?"

Gale shook his head, "Not a clue. Do you have any ideas?"

Shadowheart eyed me, "How old are you?"

"Thirty five, why?"

"How long do humans live on your planet?" she asked.

I tilted back and forth as I considered, "On average between seventy and ninety years, why?"

She looked around camp, thinking, "You're still in childbearing years. But..."

Gale watched her nervously.

I waited for her to finish.

"Never mind. That wouldn't make sense." She focused on Gale, "Does she know about us? The tadpoles?"

He nodded. 

"Okay, then forget I ever said anything. My original idea wouldn't be viable. Have a good night." She turned to head out, then eyed the red tent next door, twirling to us again, but taking a squat to speak quieter. "Have you noticed Astarion acting strangely since meeting that hunter?"

Gale glanced at Astarion's tent, "I wasn't paying enough attention, so no. I've been a little distracted."

"I only thought his interaction with the guy was odd. But, I haven't really been paying much attention since Ethel's either," I added.

She hummed. "Well, something's up, I'm just not sure what. I don't know if it was the vampire thing or the Gur thing, but he seems bothered."

We nodded as she stood up and continued to walk through camp.

Just then, Wyll popped out of his tent, calling out to the rest of us, "Everyone, I've got something for you, just in case." In his arms were a stack of what looked like wooden tent stakes.

We all headed over to his tent. "These are wooden stakes. Keep them on you at all times. Hopefully, the spawn isn't in the swamp, but you never know. We are an easy target, especially if any of us wanders off. We can do watch shifts tonight. I'll take first, anyone want to take second?"

"I can take second, Wyll," Astarion said, taking one of Wyll's weapons.

Shadowheart watched him, then turned and took a stake from Wyll.

"Perfect. Hopefully we don't need to use any of them," Wyll added. 

"Thank you, Wyll, for being so well prepared and generous," Astarion purred.

"You're welcome," Wyll smiled. 

We all took a stake and saw it as a sign to call it a night.

I don't know if it was my insomnia or just a need to relieve myself, but I had to get out of my tent. I pulled back the flaps, but didn't see anyone at the campfire. Whether Wyll or Astarion, one of them must have been doing something to keep themselves awake or they were off to the toilet too. I was a bit groggy and may have missed them at their tents.

I stepped around mine and picked my way through the foggy wood, peeking back to make sure I could still see the fire so I didn't go too far. I could make out some smoke from the treehouse chimney a little ways off. I wasn't too far from either. I picked a semi-secluded spot and dropped trow.

I missed toilets and toilet paper. I missed my large sweatshirts and comfy sweatpants. I missed my bed.

I shook my hips a little and wiped with a small rag to get any last drips of piss and blood off myself before pulling up the camp pants I found in my bag from Lia. There was a blouse I thought of putting on, but the night was so muggy, I opted for the corset, leaving it a little loose. It wasn't uncomfortable, surprisingly. 

I peeked back at our campfire, then over at the chimney. The night was clear, even if some fog hung among the trees. If anything went wrong, Ethel, my companions, and Gandrel would hear my shouts and come to help. As I tied my pants closed, stuffing the rag in my pocket, I decided to take a walk. I really need to clear my head. My anxiety was still rampaging through my body, keeping me from deep sleep. 

I headed toward the treehouse. Maybe Ethel was still awake and I could toss around some ideas for payment, or even just have some tea. Though, I doubted it. Older women usually went to sleep early. Maybe it was the same for old hags.

As I made my way, I thought about what Shadowheart had asked. Why would being childbearing age matter? And why would having the tadpole be an issue in bargaining with the hag? I couldn't believe I was even trying to make a deal with one; that hags were even real.

Wild magic, elves, vampires, goblins, tieflings, hell itself, dragons, all of it was real. It felt like a fever dream. It felt like I had fallen down a well and woken up in a wonderland.

Wyll had a patron who gave him powers. Shadowheart served a dark god. Durge was part dragon who breathed lightning. Lae’zel was from an asteroid. Gale owned a cat that could talk, do magic, and had wings. He and his collegues knew about opening portals. For god sake, Ethel had admitted to knowing how to open portals to different locations on Toril.

Where the hell was I? What the hell did I have to offer these people? The only interesting thing I had to my name was my confusing ability to dampen magic and a new weapon. What use was I in a world that ran on magic? Entire religions and technology here were powered by it.

Speaking of religions, a new one was evolving and my new companions were supposed to be a big part of it. What were the chances of that? Something was brewing here and I had crash landed into it. How much longer before I turned into a burden? How much longer before they didn’t need me? Did they even ever need me?

I didn't hear him.

I didn't see him.

When people talk about being attacked by animals in the woods, most would attest to feeling some sort of innate feeling of being watched or they would have seen it coming, doing what they could to get away. There were no warnings, no feelings, no time to flee.

I looked up at the front porch of the treehouse pondering if I should knock on the doorway.

Then I was on the moss floor.

Air was forced out of my lungs on impact. A strong body held me to the ground. A leg pinned my right thigh, as an arm wrapped around my head, pulling it off the side, the other staying my right arm. Pain like I had never felt speared into the crux between my neck and right shoulder.

And I screamed.

Through my cries, I felt the bite deepen. They sucked hard on my skin through their teeth. My head spun. My shoulder and neck throbbed. My heart skipped in my chest while my breath failed. I felt warmth spread over my shoulder, leaking a bit down toward the back of my neck. I was going to die.

All of a sudden, my mind began to clear past the some of the pain. It was as if a switch clicked and my survival brain snapped on. I couldn't see their head, but I swung my left arm over and gripped hair, ripping it back. 

The thing screeched as it released my shoulder with a suction, giving me an opening. 

I pulled up my left knee to where I hoped was a crotch and nailed home. The thing threw itself back, rolling off of me quickly, as it screeched louder. I clamored to my feet and threw myself forward, tripping from the dizziness that doused me. 

I ran for home. 

I ran for the light. 

Stars sparked in my vision. I needed to get help soon or I was going to pass out. I skidded into the campsite, overshooting my tent. I winced at the acute shoulder pain.

I realized I had made an error.

I spun, hoping to any god out there that the thing was still writhing on the ground and I could get to the stake. 

No gods were listening.

A blur took me to ground once more from my left side. I landed on my back, face to face with Astarion.

All fight melted out of me. It was over. Terror had rendered me useless.

I thought of Sylas, of the man I saw in his eyes, the one I would never know. I thought of my parents and siblings who would never find out what happened. I thought of the future I wanted. I thought of Brian. I should have been screaming in fear. Instead, I was stone. I felt the dawning acceptance of fate. 

No more running.

No more pain.

No more grief.

No more fear.

There was nothing I could do anymore. He was the wolf and I, the deer. This was the cycle of life. To kill or be killed. To fight to live or die trying. 

In that moment with Astarion above me, every detail was carved into recesses of my mind. In the short moments, my life slowed as I watched him ready to kill me.

He was terrifying. I didn't realize he could get any paler, yet he looked like death itself. His peeled back lips held a light hint of purple as they pulled over teeth covered in the red of my blood. The same blood was smeared across his chin. His canines were two inch long spears protruding from his upper jaw. His eyes were dilated irises blown wide enough to look like twin solar eclipses. Nothing behind them but pure hunger.

He was a manifestation of need. He was a nightmare. He was the vampire spawn. 

I was never going to be able to stop him with either of my weapons. I was too slow, too untrained, too naive to the realities of the threats of this world. Too human.

I could only hope Sylas would find a way home. 

As those fangs dove to reconnect with my flesh, a rippling wave soared over me, knocking Astarion several feet away. 

I turned to see Gale and Durge descend on him. The other companions charged out of their tents, weapons in hand. Durge held his red blade to Astarion's throat while Gale cast a spell hog tying his hands and feet together. He pulled him up by the back of his blouse and onto his knees. His eyes were still wild, teeth bared as he glared up at Gale and Durge. 

I let my head fall back as my body began to shake involuntarily. 

I was alive.

A body skidded next to me: Shadowheart. She tipped my head up forcing a healing potion into my mouth, begging me to swallow, or so I assumed, as I realized I couldn't understand her. I had forgotten my enchanted necklace in my tent. 

I tried to tell her. It seemed she understood as my words probably came out as gibberish. She tossed the empty bottle, running for my tent. I felt a warmth and a tickle at my neck as the healing potion began to work through my body. I sat up as she handed me the pouch. 

"Thank you," I whispered. 

She nodded and jogged over to Astarion and the others. 

I instinctually reached for my new wound, my fingers slicking with my blood. I wiped them on my pants then pushed myself, slowly, to standing. I was surprised to see Wyll and Lae'zel with arms out ready to catch me if I fell. 

"Would you like us to deal with the spawn?" she asked.

Wyll was examining my bloody shoulder and bite marks. "Shadowheart, can you come here a moment?"

She jogged back. "What is it?"

He nodded toward my neck. "It's not going away."

She stood in front of me, then walked around to look at the wound from the back. "Odd. It's closed, but the marks are still swollen. Usually, it heals pretty quickly." She faced me again, "Let me see your hand."

I held up the hand that had been sliced only the day before.

"Interesting. The mark is still there like an old scar," she said staring at it oddly.

Gale called to us, "Did the healing potion not work?"

Shadowheart turned to him, "It did, but it doesn't heal completely. It leaves a scar."

I cleared my throat, "I'm going to be marked forever?"

She just stood watching me. Then she sighed, "Maybe if we get you a superior healing potion it will remove them. Don't worry too much now."

It was an automatic reaction, I couldn't even connect a coherent thought to it. I began shaking again.

Understanding flashed behind her eyes, "You're in shock." She ran back into my tent, bringing a blanket to wrap around me and a bottle of water. 

"Do you want to go back to bed?" Wyll asked.

I watched as Astarion turned to finally look at me, panting. I just stood watching him for a minute. 

"Untie me!" he screamed whipping his head between Durge and Gale. "Oh, gods, I'm going to be sick. Untie me, Wizard!"

They stood just watching, doing nothing. I stepped forward as he gasped small breaths, then yelped, folding over in pain. "What is..." He looked over at me, pure fear in his eyes. 

We all watched him in confusion. Was this supposed to be happening?

He heaved, then vomited, twice. Two giant stomach fulls of blood and tonight's dinner now covering his front and the ground. 

Gasps and questions sounded around me. Evidently, this was unusual. We all gathered around the spawn as he dry heaved again, followed by a cry of pain, his body curling in on itself as much as it could while tied up. 

He was panting heavily. Staring up at us with wild eyes, the red returned. His forehead dotted with sweat, silver curls sticking to it.

His gaze snapped to mine as I stood in front of him and the mess of my blood.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" he growled. 

All the others faded to the background as my mind centered on him. 

Those words clanged around in my head setting off all the triggers I thought I had dismantled. Anger and rage began to burn like a furnace within me. 

Why was I always the problem? It didn't matter if I was taking in the groceries and the bag snapped, dropping our glass jars onto the tile floors. It didn't matter that I had thought I was making a silly joke, it was disrespect. It didn't matter that I had shared my heart and hurt with a friend, it made him look bad. It didn't matter he forgot my doctor's appointment, I should have cancelled it since he made plans for himself.

It didn't matter if I was the one who was being hunted, something was wrong with my blood. 

I couldn't fight back. I couldn't show him how I really felt. I couldn't be truly angry. I had to keep it together. I had to regulate, even if he never did and would never try.

But, he was supposed to be dead. Yet, his words echoed before me. 

An unfamiliar face mocked me with his voice, his words. 

I was always the problem. If he thought me so much the problem, then I would finally show him how much of a problem I could be.

I turned and pulled the stake from Wyll, my blanket sliding from my shoulders as the glass bottle hit the ground.

I turned back to him. Finally tied up.

In a position of weakness.

I would finally get to fight back. 

His face turned to a snarl, "Go ahead. Kill me. I know you want to."

My heart and head focused like a knife's edge. It was only he and I, now. I flipped the stake in my hands, sharp end down. 

"I would kill you, but you're already dead." 

A crack. A grunt. A gasp of surprise. His eyes shimmering spheres, wide in shock as the blunt end of the stake made contact with his temple and cheekbone. I hit him again.

And again. 

No one to stop me. 

No one to take it out on me. 

His blood mixed with mine on his face. His eyes empty. 

In a position of weakness. 

I was now the monster who would haunt his dreams. I pulled back again.

I heard my companions’ shocked gasps, but my mind was so sharpened on my target, they didn't mean anything to me anymore. They were background noise. I snapped forward, but a strong, cold, bony hand held my wrist.

"No more."

Something like cold water washed over my consciousness. I turned to the face of the undead priest who had promised to see me again soon. He had interesting timing. 

"I shant revive any of thou compatriots if thou art slain at one another's hands. Though, if thou art slain by sword or mishap while on your way, I will revive thee, for a price."

Gale huffed, then under his breath, "Can anything come without strings attached for once?"

"Ah, a new one. I know thy face and it has been recorded."

Gale watched him confused. "Do you know him?" he asked me.

It took me a moment to adjust my focus. I nodded, "He was in the large sarcophagus in the tomb Sylas opened."

"And when were you planning on telling us?" Shadowheart added from my other side.

I shrugged. "We had bigger problems. I forgot."

I heard Astarion cough and spit at my feet. He was glaring up at me now, but the fire in his eyes was small, the emptiness a wall within him. I knew the look too well, but didn't pity him.

"What do we call you?" Wyll inquired.

"Whatever you wish," he replied, releasing my wrist.

Astarion snorted, the sound wet. He said something in a different language.

"I am the Withered, you are correct."

"Withers it is, then," Gale stated, exasperated. "Alright, so if we kill each other, you won't revive us, but if we are slain in battle or fall off a cliff, you will do so. For a price."

"Correct."

I snapped my head around at the group just accepting his promises to bring us back from the dead as if he were telling them the rules of a new game to play. Today was getting more and more nuts. I needed to sleep. My neck and shoulder burned. I hadn't even registered the pain as I swung down on Astarion over and over with my right arm.

His face was swelling and beginning to bruise. 

Gale noticed us staring at each other, catching my attention. "Well, I guess Astarion's fate is up to you. You can stake him or you can banish him, or you can, well, those are my suggestions."

I watched Astarion's shoulders slump, head wringing with the same acceptance I felt beneath him. He fully expected to die. 

I turned to Durge. He was watching Astarion with a look of disappointment, not anger. I thought about all the odd times I caught their conversations. How quick he had denied the vampire bites at the boar.

"Durge, how long have you known?" I asked.

Surprise met my eyes as he opened his mouth, unable to reply. We all waited. Astarion tipped his head back to look up at Durge, eyes daring him to tell the truth. Durge quickly glanced down at him then at me again, "Since the shipwreck."

"I knew it!" Shadowheart cried. 

"Are you kidding me?" Wyll complained. "I have been pointing out to you all the indicators and you dismissed me."

Gale looked way, staying quiet. 

"Gale?" I started. "Did you know?"

Guilt stared back at me.

"You promised you had it under control," Durge yelled at Astarion.

"I do!" he panted. "I did," he confessed quieter. His head drooped again.

I pushed the heels of my hands against my eyelids, stars alighting behind them. The dizziness of blood loss was returning. This was madness. I was just attacked and my companions knew the whole time we had a threat at camp, and no one tried to teach me to defend myself. I yelled. It echoed out of the chasm in my heart and through the trees.

How long had Astarion been waiting for this? How many of those threatening stares I thought were jealousy were actually him contemplating my death? My camp mates were just children holding the leash of a wolf. 

"I can't do this. I need..." I flashed around at the faces watching me, my heartbeat irregular again.

"Go to sleep," Lae'zel demanded.  

I didn't object. I just nodded and turned away from the group and headed straight for my tent.

"Wait, what of me?" Astarion's voice cracked.

I turned around to the face full of fear. "Like I said. You're already dead. No need to kill you again." 

He collapsed onto the ground, I suspected in relief, but I didn't stick around to find out.

Astarion POV -

My whole body felt like it had been set aflame. My veins burned beneath the skin as I collapsed onto the dirt before the fire. I heard the others head back to their tents one by one.

I could hear Wyll sharpening a stake in his tent. I could hear Shadowheart popping the cork of a wine bottle. I heard Lae'zel adjust her sword closer before settling in her bedroll. I heard Durge toss and turn as he fell back to sleep. I even heard Withers saunter off into the fog.

I could hear her quiet sobbing. 

Gale sat on the log next to me, taking the rest my shift of watch.

Time slipped past, as always, tied up and lying in my own mess. It wasn't the first time. It wouldn't be the last. They would likely hand me over to the Gur when the sun rose, then I would be back in the thrall and torment of Cazador. 

I spit again, thinking of him. My head throbbed and cuts burned from Abigail's strong hits. I was almost proud of her. If I hadn't been the target of her rage, it would have been even better than watching her deck the druid. There was a deep well of violence within her. I would know. Had I noticed it sooner, I could have cultivated it for my own uses.

Pathetic little boy. Impulsive. Impudent. Thoughtless imbecile. A pretty face with an empty skull.

She should have killed me. Maybe, she would have had I kept my mouth shut. I could never do it before, unless I was forced. I swore I would never be forced again as I soaked in those first rays off the Nautiloid. I swore too soon.

I swallowed the tears threatening to break free. There was no use in crying. Crying was for those who had lost something. I gave it up.

She wasn't supposed to break free. She was supposed to die on the ground. I gave up my only mark and lost control. 

Now, I would lose all control, forever. 

I swallowed my dry throat again. Gods, I needed a drink. I eyed the blood puddled beneath my face. I turned and licked it. Damn the wizard, I didn't care. 

My stomach lurched. 

"Are you truly that needy? Have you not drank enough blood already?" Gale taunted, swigging back a bottle of water. 

My whole body screamed. I needed that water. My tongue felt like sand in my mouth. 

"Give me that," I demanded.

His brows bunched, "What?"

"Give me the water," I said again.

He held the bottle up examining it oddly. "Water? I thought vampires couldn't drink water? Or rather it was useless."

"I'm parched, wizard. Something is wrong with her blood. It's making me..." The revelation of my current state dawned like the sun. "I'm thirsty."

The disdain for me made way for his own curiosity. "You're thirsty?" He watched me a moment before pulling me back to my knees. His eyes narrowed, "If I release your feet, so you can sit properly, will you run? Because if you run, I will put you in hold for the rest of the night."

I shook my head, watching him back, "I promise to be a good boy."

He rolled his eyes, but he was good on his word and freed my feet. A sigh escaped me. He pulled on my arm to sit me next to him. 

He sat there waiting for something.

"Are you truly going to feed me by hand?" I couldn't believe he was really considering this. 

"By Mystra, Astarion, you tried to kill one of us tonight. Why in the hells would I trust you right now?" 

My shoulders slumped. "Fine. Try not to miss my mouth."

"Also, you're covered in blood and vomit. You reek. You probably need a good dousing." He held up the bottle to my mouth and tipped it as I tipped back. Cool liquid flooded and I swallowed. It wasn't enough. My mouth was still too dry.

I needed more, so much more. It was as if my two hundred years without had finally caught up to me. I needed to be near drowning in water. 

"Are you just going to sit there or are you going to give me more, wizard?" I demanded.

He examined me with confusion and some kind of academic interest. "You... When was the last time you fed? And I mean from a person."

My jaw tightened. I could lie to him. It would be better if he feared me. It would be better than my honesty being met with apathy. But, I would be handed over come morning, either way. What did I have to lose that I hadn't already?

I huffed, "I've never..."

I watched his incredulity as he finished my confession in his head. "Never?"

I shook my head, turning to absently watch the fire, "She was my first."

"Barely, I take it. By the amount of blood you left on her and the ground." He covered his mouth with his spare hand, stifling a laugh. 

"What's so funny?" I spit.

"Just that... You might be the worst vampire ever. As in, not a good one. Vampires are supposed to be apex predators in the dark."

I glared at him, "Your point?"

He chuckled, "My point is that, maybe, you're not the threat we think you are." He hummed, turning to the fire, "We all have our burdens."

I watched him as his mind was lost on something he didn't seem intent on sharing. He turned back to face me after a moment, "Alright, I'll give you the chance to earn my trust."

I felt the tie at my wrists snap. He held out the water. "Here, drink it."

I gripped it from him and chugged the whole thing. 

"This can't be normal."

I wiped across my mouth. Blood staining my shirt sleeve. I handed the bottle back to Gale, "It's not. Something's wrong. I'm craving water and food. I've been a vampire spawn for centuries and all I've ever craved is blood."

Gale hopped up and trotted toward his tent, turning back momentarily, "Wait there, please. I'm going to get something to put on to cook." He was back with a few more water bottles, prepping the food and pots a few minutes later. 

I sat with my hands in my lap. "You don't have to do this for me, you know."

"To be transparent, I'm not sympathetic to whatever you're experiencing, but I do have academic interest. When I get the food cooked, expect a few questions. I've never had an opportunity to speak with a vampire or spawn directly. So, this will be a chance to learn and record some new findings. At the very least, for myself."

I smirked. Of course it was academic, but at least I had an opportunity to present my case. Maybe, I could convince him to let me stay. Lean into his 'worst vampire ever' estimations. 

I uncorked another water bottle, tossing it back until it was empty. 

We sat and cooked in relative silence until I heard Durge stir and come to join us. I kept my face blank, but I couldn't stop the feeling of regret. I had messed up on two fronts tonight. Hopefully, I could at least recover one. 

"What are you making, Gale?" Durge asked the wizard while watching me.

"I'm just tossing around some spare rabbit and potatoes... for Astarion."

Durge flashed to me. "Why?"

"I'm... hungry."

"Don't you need blood for that?" he asked flatly.

"I..." 

Gale finished for me, "Something is odd with Abigail's blood. It has awakened natural cravings. He has chugged nearly all of my water bottles."

Durge tipped his head curiously, "So, you want food and water? Are you... alive?"

All thought came to a screeching halt. 

Alive. 

Could it be possible? I glanced over at the puddles of blood and vomit. Two hundred years of craving life itself. Were the gods finally listening? Kidnapped by mind flayers who implanted me with a parasite that would let me walk in the sun, only to end up traveling with the one thinking creature in all the realms whose blood held the cure to vampirism. It was too much of a coincidence. But, stuff like that didn't happen in reality. It was for exaggerated narratives of the heroes of old. 

It couldn't be, could it?

Gale held out a bowl of rabbit and potatoes with a fork. I filled the utensil and took the bite.

As it hit my tongue, the flavor overtook me. It wasn't anything elaborate, but it was delicious. Normal food had lost most of its flavor to time. Eating it was more for show at this point. But this, it was gamey and salty. It was greasy and thick. I shoveled the bowl like it was my first meal in days. First meal in two hundred years. 

I held out the bowl, ready for more. 

Gale's brows rose on his face. "As you wish." He piled my bowl high. "Just try not to get sick. Those who have been starving tend to throw up food if they eat too much too quickly."

"Shut up, wizard," I barked as I stuffed more into my hollow cheeks.

He rolled his eyes and I shut mine, sighing. I would dream of this meal for years. My fork hit the empty bottom too soon. I downed another half bottle of water. My waistband tightened at the light bloating. I could feel the weight of the food and drink in my stomach. I was full. 

I handed back the bowl. A feeling of contentment and satisfaction sat in my gut for the first time in centuries. I smiled to myself. I knew my companions were watching me carefully. I looked at Gale, "Thank you, this was a gift."

He nodded. "My turn now. You said she was your first?"

I nodded. Durge continued to watch me, warily. "I've never been permitted to drink from thinking creatures. I wasn't sure I was even able to do so, until tonight. Though, I guess this may not be a great test of that. But, I couldn't even try before."

He nodded. A journal and quill appearing from thin air. "So, as current knowledge stands, you are at the whims of your master."

"My old master. Whatever happened on the Nautiloid, I'm not controlled by him out here. I've been conveniently lost."

"Right. But, back in the city, you would be."

"Possibly, but I'm not entirely sure."

He tapped a finger to his lips, "How long have you been a spawn?"

I glanced at Durge who was still watching me, "Two hundred years. For two hundred years I was forced to eat rats and bugs or be subjected to torture and forced to torture others."

Gale paused, setting the quill down. "I..." A face of sympathy met mine, "I think I will pick up our questions another time."

"I didn't take you for one to scare so easily," I teased, though I was glad he had decided to stop.

"Your teasing is simply a facade for your own pain. One of these days that facade will rip apart and you will be left naked. But, I won't be the one to strip you."

I didn't know what to say to that. I just turned to the fire, taking another drink of water. 

I heard the wizard stand, "I think I'll turn in for the night. We can discuss whether you can stay with the others in the morning. But, if you are missing by then, I won't try to come find you."

I nodded, listening to the retreating steps. 

"Do you think it's permanent?" asked Durge, quietly.

"The hunger?"

He nodded.

I shook my head. "Nothing good ever is."

He stood, "You should face her tomorrow. She deserves that. Even if you have to leave. I'll do my best to make sure you don't end up with Gandrel."

I hadn't even mentioned the hunter. "Thank you, I'll consider it."

He turned away slightly, then paused, looking back to me, "Also, if you do start to need blood again. All you have to do is ask."

Our eyes met over the flames. I had offered him a proverbial hand not too long ago. This must be him returning the favor. I would need blood to keep up soon. "I'll consider it," I replied. He nodded and headed back to his tent. 

I sat watching the flames. I picked up the fork and licked it, a little of the grease coating my tongue. A weight dropped in my pelvis. Another instinct of the living awoke in me. 

I had to piss. Now.

I ran to the edge of camp, pulling down on my pants as quickly as I could, letting myself out. I leaned up against the tree as relief flooded me and the dirt. Another function I hadn't experienced in two hundred years.

One I didn't particularly miss as I held myself in my hand, shaking it a little to get the final drips off. What was happening to me?

She had brought me back to life, at the cost of immense pain. Something inherent in me knew this was too good to be true and was likely to be short lived, but it was incredible, nonetheless. I slumped against the tree, still exposed, as my eyes caught the puddle of her blood next to the fire. 

She had been so delicate in my arms. Her skin, soft. Her brown hair smelled like dinner. Her blood tasted...

I huffed as I felt myself expand in my palm. I rubbed the tip as I watched the flames reflected in her blood. I shut my eyes. 

The image of her standing over me, blood cascading down her breasts and corset, filled my mind. The bite marks, my marks on her, still swollen. Bruises beginning to purple the graceful lines of her neck. 

I pumped my hand down my shaft. A slow roll, tip to base, building a steady rhythm as I focused on her. 

Her eyes held her anger as she unlaced the strands, pulling back the stays to reveal her blood cover breasts, spare drips rolling down to her bare stomach. 

I sighed as my hand pulled tighter, twisting slightly, pumping harder. 

She stepped out of her dirt stained pants, exposing the drips of blood running from her cunt down her soft thighs. She stepped toward me, settling onto her knees in the pools of her own blood. I could smell it, but not strong enough. I needed more of it.

I opened my eyes and scrambled to the blood puddles at the fire. I dipped my hands, falling down against one of the logs. I listened for any stirring from the tents. I was met with silence and soft snoring. I watched myself as I ran my blood drenched hands up and down my shaft. I grew harder. My balls tighter. I tipped my head back, relishing in the heady scent of blood. 

The scent of life itself. It was cool against my skin, but it was wet and thick. Divine. I pumped harder returning to the earlier rhythm. 

I closed my eyes, the image of her before me once more, covered in her own blood. Her slender hands on me, smothered in her blood as she pushed one up and over my tip again and again.

I gasped. I clamped my mouth shut. I stopped my breathing and focused. 

One of her hands on my shaft, the other in my hair. Her bloody hand dragging along the edges of my ear. Her lips on my neck. My head leaning in and licking the wounds I made. The metallic tang my tongue. Both of us sucking on the marks of the other. 

I was so close. I hadn't felt this much need, hunger, and greed for anything is so long. 

Anything for myself was stripped from me. I was the one taken, not the one who took. I was the one forced to my knees or over a table, never the true receiver. I was thing to be used. An instrument to be played. 

No one would pull my strings any longer. I would fill every need, hunger, and desire. I would never be denied. I would use and take and win. 

I flipped her over in my mind as I flipped over in reality. Her face lying in the puddle of her own. The same blood on display dripping from her cunt. A meal before me. I slammed myself home, deep within her over and over. My needs fulfilled, my desire not found wonting. 

She would beg. She would need. She would bleed for me. 

I bit down on my own wrist as I leaned against the log, my own need shooting onto the ground and into my blood covered hand. 

The echoes of my orgasm rolled through me as I stared at the white glob in my palm.

Tonight was full of surprises. It wasn't as if I hadn't orgasmed in two hundred years. But, never in two hundred years had I ejaculated. Orgasming without true release was painful, but all I felt, leaning over with my ass exposed to any companion who might find me in my own humiliation, was relief. I squished the cum in my bloodied palm, it turning pink as I stared in amazement.

Maybe, I was coming alive after all.

[Astarion note: I should write erotica for a living.]

IRL Author Note: I KNOW THIS IS EARLY BUT WHEW THIS WAS FUN TO WRITE. I can't do 2 a week regularly, but I couldn't wait on this one. The next few chapters are gonna be a doozy. It'll be like falling down the spider pit into the Underdark. I apologize to my characters in advance.

[lewis-winters]

3 and 6 for the positivity meme?

I'll answer this backwards because my answer to no. 3 got long.

6 - what's a headcanon that you'll die on that hill?

Lewis Nixon III was a theater kid and has done drag in his life. This is forreal. The ghost of Dick Winters revealed this to me in a dream.

3 - what are some fics you go back and read again and again?

oh I love this question. in the last ask I did say I left out some creators and now is my time to redeem myself! (also another reminder that I desperately need to finish this massive fic rec post I have been steadily adding fics to since January BUT ANYWAY)

under the cut!

all of @churchkey's Winnix and ToyeMalarkey fics! god do I love them so much. I re-read A Spell of Riot once a year since it was completed.

and of course @anthrobrat's Bob, TP, and Gen Kill fics!

all of BristlingBassoon's Winnix fics - Queen for a Day inspired my "Lewis has done drag" conviction and When we met, you'd never expect this series is just. divine.

@marycontraire's Contact Tracing. of course.

make it up as we go along - Joe drives his cab, Chuck plays Call of Duty, and Babe just wants to pass Biochem; their apartment is like Grand Central at the best of times and that’s without the two possible fugitives they decided to harbor in the guest room; Luz’s life is turning into a terrible romcom about a coffee shop; Harry’s friends are bad at running a bar but they’re trying their best; somebody got punched in the face; and someday there will be a New York Times Bestseller about all of it.

Or, the interlinked soap opera-worthy drama of a group of millennials in Philadelphia, told day by day.

Lie if God is Sleeping - Gene flipped the puzzle over to read the back. “My name is Edward Heffron,” he read aloud. “I killed a man, and now I’m paying the price. 18,000 pieces. It will take approximately seven days to complete me. For experienced players only.”

What the fuck was a curse this nasty doing in a Philadelphia used bookstore?

rivers always reach the sea - my favorite webgott canon era series fic ever

Situation Normal - Winters and Nixon move to the city, reunite with some old friends and find themselves adopting a new, four-legged one.

By Small and Small - Babe wants to keep talking with Gene, but he doesn’t really know what to say. He feels like, in the past, he never would’ve shut up, but now, since Julian, he’s just got nothing. Maybe that’s grieving; Bill says that’s grieving, anyway, but Bill uses the term like a Band-Aid to put over every aspect of Babe that has changed.

Or: The one where Gene is in med school and Babe's messed up over Julian.

Dear Lover - A group of friends who supervise soldiers' mail are secretly very invested in one Major Winters' letters to a woman he seems to be having a secret affair with.

all or SJtrinity's Band of Brothers (webgott) fics and The Pacific (sledgefu and andyeddie) fics

Green and Gold - Merriell has dark magic and a guilty conscious. He never considered how the war would change them.

The American Sublime - "Tactician that he is, he finds the likelihood of still being loved by someone who, thanks to him, has just awakened to a wicked hangover and a face full of cold piss next to nil."

Dick Winters and Lewis Nixon billet together at a farmhouse in Holland for a rare few weeks of peace and privacy, while Dick struggles to process his promotion and his time away from Easy Company. Set during the first minutes of Episode 5, "Crossroads."

Cows. Wildflowers. Feelings. Handjobs.

Black Ink on Some Blue Lines - It’s been sixteen years since the letter was written, but it never found its way to the one it was intended for. The thing about secrets is they eat away at you, not all at once but slowly over the years, and you begin to wonder, to play out the what if scenarios in your mind. Instead, David buried it away and pretended like it never existed. He should have killed it, he thinks to himself, not buried it while it still had breath in its lungs.

In which David remembers his evolving relationship with Joe over the course of the war and decides to deliver a letter.

Baby You Can Drive My Car - Everyone has their thing. Perco takes watches. Nix scrounges for liquor. Welsh continues his never-ending quest for anything that will please Kitty Grogan. Even Eugene robs abandoned apothecaries with only a touch of guilt, making off with as many bandages and sulfa packets as he can carry. And then there’s Speirs, sweeping behind them like a shadow and carrying away anything they leave behind that sparkles or shines.

Babe steals cars. He’s getting pretty good at it.

Come in From the Cold - In which Smokey Gordon's coffee shop 'Bastogne' saves lives by lending cutting instruments and offering a steady supply of caffeine and sugary goodness. The shenanigans are just a by-product.

Call me 'sweetheart', Please? by @mariamegale - A not-relationship in the making. (baberoe)

anthroposcene, interrupted - Three months ago, Ray Person was a Philosophy major at Harvard. Now, he's dodging Runners trying to get from St. Louis to Cambridge without a) starving, b) dying by accident or c) offing himself. However, three's company, and it comes in the form of a dog with no bark and a taciturn Marine Staff Sergeant who's last name is Not-Pitt, which has gotta count for something.

[broken-clover]

Solaxl Week- Day 4

Haha get befuddled, you assumed I was gonna do hurt/comfort, didn't you? Well, I'm doing something different!...mostly bc I couldn't think of any ideas I hadn't already done before.

It was fun to give these two a slightly different dynamic, because a lot of the gruff op solitary behavior of Sol couldn't happen back when he was a kid, and his knowledge of music and inclination for the sciences indicates that as a young'un he was probably a massive nerd. Axl, meanwhile, seems like he was always a little scrappy brat. Don't need an education to be a delinquent. It's fun having Sol be the one out of his league and awkward for once.

4- Band AU, Hurt/Comfort, Snowball Fight

-

It didn’t matter how much college prep bit into his schedule, he still wasn’t giving up on band. Frederick refused to give up on one of the few things that still made him happy.

With how studying had begun bleeding into any snippets of free time he had left, some corners still had to be cut. Study hall had been the most recent casualty, following in the footsteps of lunch period. Sure, he still brought food, but as soon as the bell rang, he’d tuck his books under one arm and head for the band storage closet. It had been his routine for a couple months now. He knew how it was supposed to go. Drop his stuff at the door, flick the switch, head for the guitar rack. Maybe a bite or two of lunch could get squeezed in. It depended on how he felt.

Frederick halted, staring. For the first time, he’d arrived in a storage closet that was occupied by more than just inert instruments.

“You can’t be in here.”

“Eh?”

The guy was perched on the chair’s two back legs- his chair, the same one he used every single time. That alone was enough to veer his confusion into annoyance. Frederick didn’t recognize him, but in fairness, it was a big school. The more he looked, the guy looked less and less familiar and more and more greasy.

Perhaps he didn’t want to sit in that chair after all.

“Was just chillin.’” The stranger replied, shrugging.

Frederick shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot, unsure of what to do with his routine interrupted. “Band isn’t until sixth block, nobody’s supposed to be in here.”

“Yeah? So why’re you, then?”

It felt rather ass-backward to have his own motives questioned, but he chose not to say it, or to start a shouting match. He still had a bit of a reputation for being asocial, but not a total delinquent (in part because if he ever tried that, his parents would never let him live it down)

“I just came down for practice,” he replied. “Are you in study hall? I had all my work finished, so they let me go.”

The other boy snorted. “Heh! Nah, supposed to be in calc. Boo-ring. Hopped out the window, just gonna hang out here until lunch.”

Frederick was definitely sure he hadn’t met this person before. The rough edge to his voice and the thick accent was hard to mistake for someone else.

It suddenly struck him that there were only so many more minutes before the next class started, and he’d already wasted too many talking. Trying to regain some semblance of normalcy, Frederick left his books at the door and dragged a chair off of the pile by the wall. The rhythm of routine almost let him forget the intrusive stranger until he’d sat down again. The guitar’s weight was familiar in his lap, as was the music stand placed before him, but beyond the top of his sheet music, he could still see the guy staring at him with an oddly curved smile.

“Can’t you do that somewhere else? I don’t want someone to walk in and think I’m associated with you.”

“Why not? I’m awesome!”

“You’re a pain.” Frederick strummed the strings and felt along the instrument’s neck to tune one of them. “And I don’t want to get in trouble because of you.”

The other boy leaned forward in his seat, expression halfway between amused and angered. “Bloody hell, are you forreal? You’re one of those guys?”

Frederick paused his tuning. “What do you mean, ‘one of those guys?’”

“One of those little whiny crybabies that gets all bent out of shape just thinkin’ about getting told off. Lemme guess, you’re a straight-A student? Can’t even think about getting anything less than a hundred on everything?”

B-plus, and his parents wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. “M’not taking life criticism from someone who can’t sit through simple math for half an hour. What, does playing delinquent make you feel special?”

“I do it ‘cause I feel like it, you can’t tell me what to do!” Though his voice stayed steady, Frederick could see how the stranger was starting to go red. “And I’m not takin’ this kinda flak from someone who’s probably too much of a teacher’s pet to even swea-”

“Shut the fuck up.”

To his credit, he automatically did, too startled to speak. Frederick kept his scowl for a few moments more, then gave the guitar another strum. It sounded a lot better. He looked back to his sheets and tentatively repeated the first couple of notes…all the while he could still see himself being watched. He sighed in annoyance. “Like I told you already, I don’t want people to think we have anything to do with each other. Can you just hang out somewhere else?”

“Tch.”

Not much of an answer. The proper answer seemed to come in the form of the stranger sliding off his chair and cracking his neck. Instead of heading for the door, though, Frederick watched him approach the instruments. For a moment, he wondered if he’d start smashing things just to cause trouble.

“Well, then we will have something to do with each other, then!” He swiped another guitar off of the next hanger over. The chair he’d just been sitting in was hip-checked over closer to Frederick’s, and sat down far too close for his personal taste. “Whattaya playing? Got a second copy?”

Frederick jerked back. “You trying to breathe down my neck? Dammit, and be careful with that, don’t break anything! Do you know what you’re doing in the slightest?”

“Oh, you shut the fuck up, bloody poindexter.”

Before Frederick could think of sending a jab back, he was interrupted as the stranger started to play. The first few notes were rough, but…he hadn’t seen anyone else in band handle a guitar so carefully. Personal appearances were one thing, but Frederick had enough experience to recognize someone familiar with a guitar. And even if it wasn’t his favorite band, he’d recognize the iconic twangs of Cream’s ‘Sunshine of Your Love’ in his sleep.

He couldn’t hold back an impressed whistle. “Wow. Not bad, dirtbag. Surprised it wasn’t grunge.”

“Grunge’s fine, but I didn’t wanna scare ya~” Though he still had a smugness about him, Frederick could feel a little more warmth in the stranger’s tone. “So whatta you play?”

I like the classics.” He replied with pride. “Queen’s the best.”

“Nice, same boat. Folks tell me I like ‘dad music’ ‘n I tell ‘em their taste’s shit.” Frederick was offered a hand. “Guess you ain’t all bad. ‘m Axl, Axl Low.”

He took what was offered and shook. “Frederick Bulsara.”

Axl started to laugh. “Of course yer name’s Frederick.”

“H-hey, stuff it. I don’t believe for a second ‘Axl’ is your real name, either.”

“Okay, okay, I get it, Freddie. So, you said you came down fer practice, this a hobby?”

Frederick adjusted himself in his chair, settling the guitar across his lap. “Kinda. I like doing it for fun, but band class gives it a little more structure. And I’ve been doing it long enough that Professor Ringo lets me submit songs for us to do. Don’t think I’ve seen you in the orchestra, have I?”

“Don’t do band.” Said Axl. “Don’t like ‘em tellin’ me what to play. But I guess if you’re doing good shit this semester…”

“Yeah, here, lemme show you the stuff I got- “

The moment he tried to reach for his sheet music, the bell began to ring. Frederick looked down at his watch. “Shit, how’s it been that long?! I didn’t even get any practice in!”

Axl snickered, taking both of their guitars and putting them back on the rack. “Careful, Freddie, people are gonna think you’re some kinda delinquent, late for class and using dirty words like that.”

“Oh yeah, you’d know all about that-” He frantically gathered his things, shoving the music stand back with the others. In his haste, he’d forgotten to take the sheet music off first, and the motion sent them flying “Dammit!”

“Got it, I got it,” Axl knelt down and started gathering them up. From his pocket came a cracked pen. Frederick didn’t have a chance to say anything before he’d already started writing something on one of the papers.

“What are you doing? Don’t mess it up!”

“Chill, yeesh.” Once his self-appointed task was finished, Axl handed everything back to its owner. “Just giving you my contact info. Uh, hey, drop me a text later, got it? Dunno how to sign up for classes, maybe you could show me? Or heck, just send me some vids of the stuff you play, I wanna see your technique.”

He spoke too fast for Frederick to keep up. “Huh? What- “

“See ya, mate!”

Though he was still worried about next class, he was too bewildered to do anything but stare at the empty doorway where Axl had just been. Turning over the stack of sheet music, sure enough, there was a string of numbers and under the strange boy’s name.

What a peculiar encounter. He still wasn’t sure what to make of it. Though he did have a softer spot for someone who could appreciate the classics. Maybe it would be worth keeping in contact? When he had a moment between classes, Frederick would try to memorize Axl’s number and put it into his contacts…He’d have to ask why there had been a scratchy heart scribbled next to it, anyway…

[imaginespazzi]

Bestie! Hiya!

Twas the night before Selection Sunday 😬. Sending up every good thought/positive vibe/prayer. I truly find it such a weird ordeal. Exciting too, dont get me wrong, who doesnt love the big dance. But waiting to hear your spot and then having absolutely no idea how the path will end up treating you fills me with plenty of dread ha.

This past week was far from relaxed, but all is well here! Im happy to report I got into the salon today yay, though I just know the hairdresser at the genuinely lovely but not so ~diverse establishment wants to straight up quit on the spot when I come in w the hair of Azzi in that old dying our hair purple youtube vid 💁‍♀️. Things good w you?

Honestly Duke simply deserved a trophy simply for eliminating ND. Good karma! 😁 Totally random, but kinda related, had you seen some people around Tumblr posting stuff about HH's fam on her socials?

Yeah I think team Mist was hard done by circumstantially some (um what happened to Stewie, surgery?!) and did not have the leeway for coaching mishaps in the short timeframe. Go Owls! Big day tomorrow🦉

It will be very interesting to see how the Tourney goes for GA. Feels like a good run could def artificially inflate her draft stock, and vice versa. You are completely right though, we are pretty much straight up owed dramatic entertainment in WBB! Give me Lou or give me tea!! Lol 😝

Other tidbits: I found Pazzi going to Jose's game so endearing. Family!

Oh and just seeing your post from a short time ago - may I direct you to this https://www.tumblr.com/restlesspazzi04/757044486720323584/love-island-a-pazzi-fic?source=share (you may have already seen in the past. But I share also because maybe kinda this acct/author is coming back to life a little?)

Some ops of UConn are clearly hard at work, because they really do not need that TruFru temptation at this time. Im gonna guess & hope CD has padlocked that shit for now.

NWSL action has returned! ⚽️ LFG And omg we have a Preath puppy 🐶 ❣️

I recently saw sad news that the author John Feinstein passed away (RIP). I cant recommend his work enough. Wrote so many great sports related books. If anyone needs a next read..

Heres to a great tomorrow, be well

-☕️

Hi bestiiiieeee <3

Yeah it's gotta have been anxiety-inducing and I cannot imagine the tension that builds up throughout the whole day as you're waiting to hear your path. I would love to hear your thoughts on the bracket btw babes when you get a chance!

I just laughed out loud at that image omg you scandalized her forreal. I hope this week is more relaxing for you though queen! Life has been pretty good, just basketball and more of the same with work life and school lol.

Duke definitely got hella good karma for beating ND because they went and stole their #2 seed as well.

Yeah Stewie's been hurt and I think I remember her point it out to Sue at the end of the championship as well. Very upset about the Owls as well but that's what a single elimination semi-final will do. I'm rooting for the Rose to win it all now I think.

I absolutely need Georgia to have a good run right now because as much as I believe we can beat USC, I just don't wanna face a Juju who's out for vengeance so if she could just take care of that for us, it would be lovely AND do wonders for her draft stock.

Loved, loved, loved seeing Paige with the Fudd family content. It really does make me feel all sorts of lovely things to see that.

PREATH PUPPY YES WORLD! So cuteness.

Yes I mainly knew for his commentary but was sad to hear the news. Will definitely try and read some of his work as well!

[starspangledspanks]

Serendipity 5

Sunday came and went with no word from Steve. The day for me was spent going to the grocery store, cleaning my apartment, and hanging with Gunner. I was growing restless. After only knowing the man for a week I had somehow already become accustomed to his presence in my life. I didn’t want to bother him knowing he was probably on his flight to D.C. but the nagging urge was there. I called Heather instead…

“So what’s the big deal? Tell him you like him.”

“Heather, it's only been a week. Plus the man is so out of my league. I don’t know, maybe this is a good thing he’s gone. I can’t afford to have any distractions right now.”

“Would it be so bad to do something for yourself for once?”

“Do I not already do that?”

“Babe, everything you do is to impress your dad be forreal.”

“I suppose you may be right. But I really shouldn’t get involved with anyone until after this audition.”

“Speaking of that, did you decide if you were visiting your parents for Christmas? I know your audition is the week before.”

“I haven’t. My aud is on the 16th then I have Christmas break until the 1st. I honestly just may stay home and take some time for myself. I’m not sure I want to go back to California”

“Maybe some time with family would be good ya know?

“Why? So I can listen to my parents talk about what a gift from god my brother is?”

“That’s true. Listen I’d just hate to see you chicken out on a good guy because of your career. You can have both you know? Just see where it goes. Don’t push him away.”

“You always make me feel better, bug.” I said smiling at my phone. Heather really was the greatest friend I could ask for. After chatting a tad more about my audition we said our goodbyes. I put some dinner in the oven and planted myself on my couch fully ready to binge out to Bridesmaids.

“You doooooo…” I was partially in tears when my phone rang. I grabbed it without even looking.

“Hello?” I said still giggling.

“Hiya bell-” I recognized Steve's voice immediately. I was honestly shocked he was even calling. I didn’t expect to hear from him until he got back from his trip. Nonetheless the pet name got me.

“Steve?”

“Is this a bad time?”

“Uh, no no, I just didn’t expect to hear from you until you got back.”

“I was thinking about you.”

“Oh? I’m sorry.” I giggled.

“It’s a welcome distraction here.”

“Lonely in D.C.?”

“You have no idea. I’m meeting my friend Sam for some drinks but my week is pretty slammed.” I nonchalantly wondered if Sam was a woman. I played my cards carefully.

“Does she work with you?” I asked politely.

“He does.” Ok Rogers test passed.

“What kind of work are you doing?”

“Tying up some loose ends from a job a couple months ago.” I thought back to the fiasco that had happened I had heard about on the news.

“Did that have anything to do with those big planes crashing and taking down an entire building?” I laughed.

“You got me,” he laughed. “Anyway, I was wondering if you’d like to join me for a Broadway show when I get back. Next Saturday?”

“Steve Rogers, are you asking me on a date?” I was beaming. Surely he could hear it in my voice.

“I am Miss Quinn. 6pm on the dot. Wear something nice.”

“Yes sir,” I quipped. Saluting to Gunner.

“Bye bell-” he said, hanging up the phone. I was giggling like a schoolgirl.

After that, the week dragged on at a terrifyingly slow pace. Days of classes wore on and on. I had made it a goal to go for a run with Gunner every morning before class. Snapping a picture every now and then of the two of us and sending it to Steve. Friday was a particularly beautiful morning. The air warm, despite it being mid December. I ran all the way to the bridge just to send him a picture of Gunner and I with the sunrise behind us.

“Gunner is excited to see you,” I sent with the photo. The dog's tongue was hanging out of his mouth, panting from the run. My face flushed from the crisp air and the 5 miles. My phone dinged almost immediately from a response, figuring Steve was also on his run this early.

Steve

Sam isn’t nearly as cute as Gunner

Attached was a photo of Steve smiling brightly with a man behind him. The man looked entirely out of breath and covered in sweat. I deduced this was the Sam Wilson he’d been telling me about during the week. I audibly laughed on the bridge before replying.

Me

I don’t look that winded when I run with you I hope

I started my way back to my apartment stopping for coffee along the way. Having received no response I hopped in the shower to get ready for my day. This was my last day of class before vacation, my audition being the following Monday. Our date in between caused a welcome distraction. I knew I shouldn’t be nervous, but I also should be focusing totally on my routine. Heather was right though. I needed to do something good for myself. I got ready for the day, phone chiming in my bag as I walked to school.

Steve

You’re beautiful after a run. I miss you :(

He seemed a little more confident over text.

Me

I miss you too. Excited for tomorrow :) 

The day dragged on as they all had. After class I stopped at a couple stores to grab a new dress for our date. I wasn’t sure how fancy I needed to get so I settled for a little black dress. The obvious staple. My phone rang in my pocket as I made the walk home.

“MOM”

I stared at the screen for a moment trying to decide if I was up for this conversation.

“Hi mom.” I cringed inwardly.

“Campbell Quinn I have not heard from you in weeks.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’ve just been so busy with school and the audition I’ve barely had time to feed myself.” 

“Well at least you’ll look skinny for your audition. Are you coming home for Christmas? Your father won’t stop bugging me.” Her comments about my body were barely new. I stood at 5’4” and was barely 120 lbs. Though she would have preferred me to be 105.

“I’m not sure yet mom. I may have plans with… friends.”

“How are friends more important than your family? Unless… Campbell did you meet a man?”

“Maybe.” I was smiling again.

“Then you’ll have to bring him here.”

“Mom, our first date is tomorrow. I can't bring him home for Christmas.” I rolled my eyes.

“Campbell this isn’t a discussion you are coming home. I'll book your flights tonight and send you the details.”

“But mom-” the line clicked before I could finish my sentence.

There’s no way in hell I was inviting Steve home for Christmas. I had never brought a guy home for Christmas besides my ex and well… that ended horribly. The rest of the night was spent taking a shower, tanning, and putting my hair in some rollers to sit overnight. I really was as giddy as a school girl for this date. The idea of Steve wanting to “date” me made me even giddier.

The next day flew by as I spent it getting ready. It was 5:45 when I got a text from Heather.

Heather

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do ;)

Me

Which is?

Heather

With that man? I’d do absolutely anything lmao

I laughed at her outwardly. Something told me Steve wasn’t exactly a sex before marriage guy. Though I wouldn’t protest if he was. I put on my last layer of gloss tight as the clock struck 6.

My little black dress, tights, and black kitten heels made my legs look incredible. My tan glowing and my makeup sultry. My hair just the right level of blown out and bouncy after sitting in the rollers all night. Just as I grabbed my coat I heard the knock.

“Come in!” I piqued through the intercom. I heard the code beep as I made my way to the kitchen. Gunner bouncing excitedly at the door. He greeted the man tail wagging and jumping like a fool. He never jumped for company. Though I was jumping just as high as he on the inside.

“Hi buddy! I missed ya.” the blonde pet the dog excitedly.

“Will I get ear scratches too or should I settle for a hug?” I asked hand on my hip leaning against the counter. His eyes met mine before flicking down my body and back up. I could sense him taking me in, knowing I had made the right choice on attire.

“You uh- you look amazing,” he said, pulling at his collar. He looked quite dapper himself. He was wearing nice pants, a pressed button down and a suit jacket. He cleaned up even nicer now than he had for Friendsgiving. The time apart made him look even better than he had when he left.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” I said walking to him to give him a welcome home hug. We embraced for a moment before he grabbed my coat off the counter holding it up for me to put on.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Absolutely.” I smiled, slipping on the jacket before taking the arm he extended to lead me to the elevators.

“Do we need my keys?” I asked.

“No ma’am.” he said, smiling down at me.

“Well don’t you two look nice,” Edgar chimed as we exited the lobby. We both thanked him as we made our way out to the curb. A Rolls Royce was waiting for us along with a driver.

“Ma’am,” the driver said, gesturing me into the car. I slid in happily, Steve following behind.

“Well isn’t this fancy,” I said. “You didn’t have to do all of this for me.” 

“I wanted to make it special.” he hummed. The car ride was short as we pulled up to Jean-Geroges. Arguably the fanciest restaurant in Manhattan. It pulled at my heartstrings because I knew this was probably way out of his comfort zone.

“Reservation for Rogers.” Steve said to the maitre’d. They took our coats and scooted us along to a table quickly sitting us down and placing a menu in front of us. I had been here a few times with my parents and knew the french cuisine was probably wildly confusing to the soldier. The names in another language and the descriptions are anything but helpful. I kept glancing at him. The quizzical look on his face amusing me slightly as he struggled. 

“It is good to see you again Miss Quinn. May I offer you sparkling or still water madam?” The white gloved waiter snapped my attention away from Steve. They had clearly recognized me from my prior visits and my father spending ungodly amounts of money at the establishment.

“Hi Thomas,” I smiled. “You know what? Suddenly I am not feeling so well. I think we’re actually going to go. Do you mind tipping yourself on my father's credit for the reservation?”

“Not at all ma’am, I hope you feel better soon.” he said bowing his head before bouncing off. The look of horror on Steve’s face made me giggle.

“Don’t worry I feel perfectly fine. But this,” I said, gesturing around to the crowded restaurant. “This isn’t our style, is it?” A look of relief flooded his face before I got up and we made our way out after grabbing our coats. We got in the car and I gave the driver an address.

“113 St Marks Place please.” I said to him. 

“Yes ma’am” he said, pulling away from the curb, shooting me a smile small from the rearview window.

“I didn’t mean to hijack our date,”I said, taking Steve's hand in mine. He interlocked our fingers and played with my hand with his other.

“I just wanted to impress you,” he said. “I’ll be honest when you said we were leaving I was relieved.”

“You don’t have to impress me. I’m tired of the stuffy activities rich people do.” I laughed. Within a moment we were at the destination. A small inlet in the sidewalk led down a couple stairs to a sign that said “Crif Dogs”.

“Cmon you’ll love this place,” I said before pulling him out of the car before the driver could even come around.

The small hot dog shop was filled with people on the Saturday night. Loud conversation and the smell of hot dogs filled the tiny store. We ordered our food before grabbing the two available seats we could find. 

“These are really good.”

“Best place on the island. I knew you’d like it.” I smiled at him.

We ate our food before going back to the car to make our way to the show. He scanned our tickets before grabbing my hand and leading us to our seats. I didn’t miss the fact our fingers stayed intertwined almost the entire show. The flashing lights, the electric songs, and talented dancers kept him enthralled the entire time. I’d seen Chicago at least 5 times already, opting most of the show to watch him from the corner of my eye. He’d snuck a few peaks at me the few times I looked away. Watching him see the show for the first time was far more exciting to me. After the show we popped into the car to head back home. The entire ride being as impossibly close as we could be without, ya know. I wanted him to kiss me so bad I could barely hold a conversation.

When the car dropped us off I couldn’t help but ask the question he had a week ago refused.

“Come inside for a night cap?”

He thought for a moment before answering.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt.” He followed me inside. After saying hi to Gunner once more we made ourselves comfortable on the couch. A bottle of wine back in its spot on the coffee table, soft music playing from the ceiling.

“Tonight was wonderful. Thank you,” I said. He was relaxed with his arm on the back of the couch, wine in the other hand. I was sitting on my legs; tucked into his side facing him. I was playing with the sleeve of his shirt.

“I’m really glad you decided to join me. None of my other dates have gone quite this well.” He smiled.

“Oh the others?” I swatted his arm “What number am I this weekend then?”

“Alright alright, very funny. You knew what I meant.”

“And what will you report back to the next girl?” I teased.

“Hopefully there won’t be a next one.” At that moment the tension grew exponentially. His hand made his way to my face and brought his to mine. Before I knew it the moment I had been waiting for for months happened. The kiss was deep and passionate. His lips were exactly how I imagined them. The tension continued to grow before a short time he was pulling me to straddle his lap. Clearly the man had kissed a few girls since he’d been back. No way he had been rusty since the 40’s and was that out of practice. My hands were everywhere I could get them to before finally coming to rest on the back of his head to play with his hair. He groaned into me as his hands came to rest on my hips. We stayed like that for a few moments deep into enjoying each other. I didn’t want to be too forward but at the same time I wanted him. I could feel him underneath me as I continued to straddle him. The feeling of his excitement pressing against me in a devilish way. He moved his hands up further and I shifted a bit to accommodate his hands, no doubt causing friction beneath me. He hissed at the contact and I pulled away.

“Do you want to stop?” I asked between our deep breathing.

“I think that’s a good idea.” he said, shaking his head. I removed myself from his lap, standing up and walking towards the windows. I could see he was frustrated, running his hands over his face.

“I’m sorry Steve, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” I said, biting my nail nervously. I could hear him get up and make his way over to me. He wrapped his arms around me from behind and hugged me.

“You didn’t. I swear. I just respect you too much to take things there yet.” he said, kissing the side of my head.

“Dance with me?” I asked, turning to him in his embrace still.

“I’d love too bell,” he said placing another soft kiss to my lips before leading me into a slow dance.

[lepainnperdu]

is this a poem or... - a poem

we're driving around

another tinder date even though i told my friends i wouldnt ever use it again

considering the first two dates were trash

"yeah I'm definitely not going to dorm next year"

talking about our different lives, he doesnt go to my school

"why not?" because it's overwhelming

but now its winter break and everyone is starting to leave for home

and maybe this has been one of the best experiences of my life.

the best people ive met, the most ive grown, and felt safe enough to grow in the direction i am

me and the guy, from the date, we ended up freaking it out later (sex)

it was my first time as was his

i never even had a boyfriend

no situationship, only a weak week long talking stage that failed miserably.

i knew this guy, the one i got intimate with, wanted nothing serious

i hate the idea of hookups and yet for some reason i went through with it all

i just want to experience - i told him

i dont want to do anything that will hurt you - he told me

i had a panic attack right after and he comforted me

you were good enough - he told me,

enough

i dont really get the purpose of that word in this situation, but basically it means i wasnt bad

and im ok with that

the one thing i want in life is not be viewed negatively - good enough although not great, its really not that bad

my whole life i felt so behind, so childish like i was still a little elementary schooler

but each and every day, its less and less

im starting to figure out what my lifes about

i deleted tinder for good, by the way (again, but im forreal this time, ok??)