#my coworkers and i when one of us goes to the bathroom (five steps away)

[firemedicdiaz]

The Road Will Lead You Home Again

Fandom: 9-1-1. Pairing: Buddie. Word Count: 2201. Genre: fluff. Rating: teen+. Summary: Eddie goes over to Buck’s to pick up Christopher, or how 4x08 should have ended. Warning(s): alcohol mention. Note:  Beta’d by @fireladybuckley​.  AO3 link here. 

Buck jumped as his apartment door was thrown open and Eddie rushed in, his expression bordering on unhinged.  Buck hadn’t been expecting him for at least another five minutes given the distance between Eddie’s house and his apartment, but it was unsurprising that Eddie had taken speed limits and stop signs as suggestions more than anything considering the fear and restless energy rolling off him in waves.

“Christopher?”  Eddie barked, glancing around frantically.

Buck stepped closer, putting a hand on Eddie’s chest to stop him.  

“In the bathroom,” Buck explained.  “He’s fine.”

He could feel Eddie’s chest heaving under the strain of his emotions and a frantic rush up three flights of stairs.  Buck watched Eddie’s face, waited.  It took a few moments for his words to sink in, but Eddie finally relaxed a fraction, dropping his shoulders and meeting Buck’s eyes.

“I’m sorry about all this,” Eddie said with a shake of his head, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.  “We’re going to have a long, hard talk about boundaries when we get home.”

Buck shook his head, dropping his hand as Eddie calmed.

“Not until you’ve slept on it,” Buck said softly.  “Christopher is going through some stuff right now and he needs kindness, not a reprimand.”

Buck could feel the tension return to Eddie’s body even though they were no longer touching.

“You think you know how to parent my son better than I do?”

Buck raised his hands in an attempt to diffuse the tension as Eddie went on the defensive.

“I’m not saying that,” Buck said quickly.  “I’m just saying that we had a heart-to-heart and that I really think Chris could use some reassurance that this - you dating Ana - doesn’t mean that he’s going to be left behind.”

Eddie almost visibly flinched at Buck’s words, the anger leaving him in a rush, replaced by a sudden chill, an understanding.  Eddie cursed quietly and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Is that what he said?”

Buck nodded, turning on his heel and making his way into the kitchen.  Eddie followed along, leaning on the counter as Buck pulled two beers from the fridge and uncapped them, sliding one across the marble at Eddie.

“Between the shelter in place order and you dating again, he feels like everyone is leaving him,” Buck explained, taking a sip of his beer and regarding Eddie.  “He told me that you promised him the two of you would try new things together after the whole skateboarding debacle, but this kind of came out of nowhere.”

Eddie cursed again, the conversation from that day coming back to haunt him.  Of course Christopher was upset; bringing someone new into the family was a huge step, and Eddie hadn’t even asked Chris how he felt about it.

“Maybe you do know more about parenting him than I do,” Eddie said with a bitter laugh, his voice hollow.

“Come on, man, you know that’s not it,” Buck assured him, setting down his beer and coming around to Eddie’s side of the counter.  He put a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze, and Eddie would be lying if he said Buck’s touch wasn’t exactly what he needed right then.  “Christopher came to me because he needed a friend, but he’s going to need his dad to walk him through this new normal.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Eddie lamented.

Buck’s hand stayed in place, its weight grounding Eddie as anxiety gnawed at him.  It was terrifying, the realization that Christopher was growing up, understanding more than Eddie was giving him credit for, and Eddie wasn’t sure he was ready to take on some of the big conversations they needed to have.  Shannon would have been great at it, and with her by his side it might not have been so dizzying, but he didn’t know how he was supposed to manage on his own.  

“Nothing worth doing is ever easy,” Buck said sagely like he was reading off a motivational poster.  “But it’s worthwhile, and you’re not alone.  You’ve got Bobby, and Hen, and - and you’ve got me.  I may not be a dad, but I was a pretty messed up kid.  If nothing else, I can tell you what not to do.”

Eddie’s heart ached at Buck’s attempt at jest.  Setting his beer down, he turned slowly to face his best friend, meeting Buck’s eyes.  There, under a veil of confidence and conviction, behind the hurt at memories of his own childhood, Eddie saw a shadow of something different, something more.  It was gone in a flash, before he could even begin to delve into it, but it made the gears in Eddie’s head turn a bit as he processed what that look might’ve meant.

Clearing his throat before he could get completely waylaid, deciding it was neither the time nor the place to dwell on whatever moment had just transpired, Eddie glanced around the apartment again.

“Christopher’s been in the bathroom a while, I should go check on him.”

“I’ll get him,” Buck interjected.  “Make yourself at home.”

Eddie agreed with a nod, watching Buck disappear further into the apartment before making his way to the couch.  Christopher’s crutches were propped against the side of it and Eddie relaxed a fraction at the tangible proof that Christopher was there and safe.  He rested his elbows on his knees as he sat, dropping his head into his hands and wondering just where he’d screwed up parenting so badly that Christopher didn’t think he could open up and talk to him about what was on his mind.

“If we need to take a break, I’ll understand.”

Eddie smiled and held up a hand.

“Hold on, hold on.  He and I can figure this out.  In the meantime, I don’t want you going anywhere.  Got that?”

Ana’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, not that he’d noticed it at the time.  He’d been too busy looking ahead to a future where he wasn’t so cripplingly alone.  Of course he had his coworkers and his family.  He also had Buck.  

Buck, who would drop everything to help out even without Eddie having to ask.  Buck, whom Christopher looked at like he’d hung the moon.  Buck, who was in his heart and on his mind even when he was miles away.  

But he needed someone in the in-between.  Someone whose touch could calm him, ground him, who could reassure him that maybe he wasn’t making an absolute mess of parenting, learning, and growing as a person.  Someone who could be his heart and his soul.  His best friend.

But he already had that too, didn’t he?

“I got it,” Ana’s voice called to him through the cobwebs, returning him to that moment.

“I’ll uh, talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

Eddie shook his head, dispelling the unwelcome flashback.  His heart beat heavily in his chest at the implications of the memory and he nearly jumped as a weight landed on the couch beside him.  Looking over, Eddie found Christopher sitting at his side, his head bowed and looking so much younger and more innocent than Eddie was used to seeing.

Any remaining anger that Eddie felt disappeared as Christopher worried with the hem of his shirt, not meeting Eddie’s eyes.  Eddie shifted closer, putting an arm around Chris’ shoulders and pulling him close, pressing a kiss into Christopher’s hair.

“I’m glad you’re safe, mijo,” Eddie murmured, holding Christopher tightly enough that the boy squirmed in his grip.  “You scared me.”

“Sorry, dad,” Christopher said quietly, keeping his gaze averted.  “I won’t do it again.”

“I appreciate that, but I want you to know that I’m not mad at you.  I understand.”

Eddie’s compassion piqued Christopher’s interest and he finally looked up, cautiously meeting Eddie’s gaze.  Eddie smiled, brushing a few stray curls away from Christopher’s forehead.

“I was wrong, buddy, and I’m sorry,” Eddie said softly.  “I should have talked to you before I started dating again.  That’s on me.  I made a promise to you and I broke it, and now I’m going to make it right, okay?”

“How?”  Christopher asked.

“By starting over,” Eddie replied with a courage that he wasn’t sure he could live up to.  “By breaking it off with her and by starting again with someone else, but only if that’s okay with you.”

Christopher considered the words for a moment and smiled, nodding as he leaned into Eddie again and wrapped his arms around him.  Eddie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and embraced Chris, holding onto him for a long moment.  He glanced up as he sensed movement in the periphery of his vision and found Buck watching the two of them from the kitchen.

“Can you start over with Buck?”  Christopher asked, and Eddie’s heart nearly stopped as he wondered whether Buck could hear them from his vantage point.  Buck’s face gave nothing away, and Eddie operated on the hope that they were out of earshot as he agreed to something he thought he’d have a little more time to process before acting on.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Eddie whispered, holding Christopher just a little tighter to borrow some of the boy’s unbridled courage and enthusiasm.  “Do you think he’ll say yes?”

Christopher giggled.

“Yeah!  He promised he wasn’t going anywhere.”

Eddie’s heart leapt at the implications of Buck’s promise to Christopher, settling into a quick, erratic drumbeat as he wondered whether Buck’s sentiments would stay the same once Eddie came out and admitted that he’d love nothing more than to have Buck in their lives forever, and not just for evenings and weekends.

“Okay,” Eddie said quietly.  “Do you think I should do it now?”

Christopher nodded, giving Eddie a playful shove to get him going.  Eddie took a slow, deep, steadying breath and stood, slipping his hands into his pockets to keep himself from fidgeting as he made his way into the kitchen.  He could hear the drag of fabric on fabric as Christopher swiveled on the couch and he could feel Chris’ gaze on him as he made his way toward Buck.  Buck’s expression was quizzical as Eddie approached and he slid Eddie’s beer in his direction again as though sensing Eddie’s nervousness.  

“Good talk?”  Buck asked casually.

“Yeah, I think so,” Eddie replied.  “We came to an understanding.”

Buck raised an eyebrow, wordlessly encouraging Eddie to go on.

“I’m breaking up with Ana.”

Eddie had expected surprise, disbelief, maybe, but not the warmth and approval that Buck’s expression held.

“You’re a good dad, Eddie.  Chris is lucky to have you, and I’m sure you’ll find someone even better for you one day.”

Eddie picked up his beer and averted his gaze as he took a long swig.

“I’ve already got someone better.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie watched Buck tilt his head curiously.  He could feel those blue eyes burning a hole straight through him and he took another sip before setting his beer down.  The clink of glass on marble was louder than he’d intended as the bottle slipped from his nervous fingers and it didn’t escape Buck’s notice.

“Eddie?”

“I’ve had someone better for a while,” Eddie continued before he could talk himself out of it.  “I just hope he’ll have me back.”

Eddie looked over pointedly to meet Buck’s gaze.  He watched Buck process, the other man’s expression changing from confusion, to realization, to acceptance, and then to something else.  Something that made Eddie weak-kneed as he realized just how desperately he’d wanted to see it in Buck’s eyes for so long.  For longer than he cared to admit.

Approval.

“You mean… me?”

Buck had to be sure, of course.  He had feelings of his own, feelings his tone and the way the words caught in his throat when he’d asked Eddie about his date had nearly belied.  He’d never been good at reading people, though, and as much as he knew Eddie inside and out, he found it even harder to read him, and so he’d kept those feelings to himself.  To see them being reciprocated was something Buck was both desperate and completely unprepared for.

“Yeah, Buck, I mean you.”

Their gazes stayed locked as Eddie moved around the counter between them, closing in on Buck.  Eddie bit his lip, feeling suddenly shy, unsure of himself, and Buck’s heart swelled with love.  Buck broke into a soft, easy smile, reaching out to wrap his arms around Eddie as the other man stepped into reach.  Eddie sagged into Buck’s embrace, locking his hands around Buck’s waist and holding onto him, breathing him in.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

Eddie pulled back just enough to be able to see Buck’s face.  He chuckled softly, inhaling sharply a moment later as Buck tilted his head, pressing his lips to Eddie’s, effectively stealing his breath away.  The joy Eddie felt as they connected was so deep and fulfilling that any doubts he had went up in smoke and he smiled into the kiss as Chris’ cheers of celebration filled the air.

[mrskurono]

title: Maybe, I’m Afraid || Takahiro Hanamaki x fem!Reader

a/n: this is self indulgent af bc I want to dance with Makki on my birthday which is today but I’m pretending it’s not today + lovelytheband makes me think of Makki + I ain’t posting anything else all day long

word count: 2.2k

tags: fluff, angsty undertones, friends to lovers trope, casual alcohol consumption, not much just dialog and dancing

character(s): Takahiro Hanamaki (hq)

Dancing in your party dress. 

You were singing me some Frank Sinatra as you wept.

This was swanky. 

Makki admitted this was a pretty spectacular birthday bash. Beat having a few beers at the bar for his birthday. That was his style. And this was your style. It always had been and always would be.

A tug on his tie as he raised the champagne flute for another swig and wandered around. Through crowds of familiar and unfamiliar. Friends and family. Makki knew each face for the most part and why they would be here celebrating your birthday. Even coworkers that he only heard once or twice. 

Everyone seemed so important. So why was he here?

Crowds thinning out. First when they’d separate when the man moved by them. Now Makki looked around to find most of the party guests weren’t around at all. He shrugged though. Figuring Mattsun didn’t mind him wandering around his home as he’d crashed with his bud a few times.

Hum of the music playing downstairs drown out by the chatter and walls. Makki laughed as he ascended to the second story about Mattun’s house being as quiet as a morgue. Jokes aside he didn’t think much of finding anyone up on the back balcony of the giant home. 

After a bit of mingling Makki found himself unable to find you. And the lackluster to parade around with all these people he hardly saw drained him faster than anything. He was here for you but he couldn’t steal your attention away like you were teenagers. Adults didn’t do that. Adults had boundaries. You both were adults now so Makki thought this was fine.

Fine as being alone again was. Makki trailed his fingers along the oaken table top pushed up against the wall of the hallway. Without a fleck of dust of course. He shrugged it off and grabbed at the door handle of the sliding door to let himself out for a breath of fresh air.

Hinted at the sound of the downstairs music drifting upwards. Makki giggled to himself, “Heh, Mattsun getting the cops called on him for being too loud would be-”

“Makki!”

Stopping in his tracks the man whipped around to see your familiar face across the patio. Surely as shocked as he was. Both of you stared at one another for a moment before Makki continued to shut the door much softer now behind him, “What are....why aren’t you downstairs?”

“Why aren’t you downstairs?” You hand his question back, “Did someone send you up here? I thought I asked Mattsun not to say anything and-”

Quickly he shook his head waving your questions away, “No. Mattsun has no idea, I just came up here for some air is all.” He stopped and looked over at the empty champange glass on the edge of the patio, “Do you need another? I can go get you something if you’d-”

“Heh no,” You smile, relaxing back into yourself after he said no one was looking for you, “This stuff gives me heartburn anyways.”

Makki ambled up to the edge of the balcony with you. Seeing a clear view of all the on goings below, “Were you stalking people up here? This would be a great place to drop something from.”

Glancing at the man leaning into the railing next to you. Only a second goes by before you lean into your elbows and gaze out at the backyard with everything going on, “Nah. I wanted to return half this crap anyways when it’s over. Cleaning stains out woulda been too hard.”

He stopped poking fun at the party itself for a second. Chin resting in his palm when he casted a look over in your direction. Instead of the shimmering party hostess he saw coming in earlier. Now all Makki .saw his his best friend slumped into their friend’s deck railing overlooking something that didn’t quite resemble a true party.

“...what’s the deal huh?” Makki’s brow arched up, “This isn’t really your thing. So why the big bash?”

Swallowing a deep breath. Only to be let out in one big sigh. You push off the railing and rock back and forth on your feet childishly, “I dunno...I didn’t want to have a birthday this year.”

“Then don’t have one and do something small?”

“No...I don’t mean the party part.” You stop rocking and settle flat on your feet while looking out at nothing in particular, “I didn’t want to have a birthday....didn’t wanna, think about me I guess.”

“So you threw a giant party?” Makki snorted at the logic.

You shook your head, “No, mom brought it up. Then Mattsun caught wind. Iwa agreed. One thing lead to another. Suddenly there was a party to celebrate ‘me’ and I was placed in the middle of it with a cake to boot.”

Stepping away from the balcony Makki turned around no longer interested in everything going on under the two of you. Instead he leaned back and looked lazily over at you but still with a slight grin, “You certainly look like a cake topper.”

“Shut up,” You add insult to injury when you roll your eyes and push him away from you.

“What, I’m just saying-” Makki shrugged frankly, “You look more like you should be in the middle of those people dancing. Not up here alone with an empty glass.”

For a second you look at the empty champagne glass. A song comes on below. Drowned by the distance. But clearly you can hear what is it. Even if this didn’t feel like your party. The music as yours. Slowly you begin humming softly before looking over at him with a smile, “I’m not alone though. You’re right here.”

He didn’t mean the snort laugh. Makki quickly back tracking to not make it seem so bad, “I mean- I’m just surprised. This seems so swanky. Doesn’t feel like a thing I’d be invited to.”

“Swanky?” You look at him.

“I picked up a word a day calendar.” Makki looks at you, “But I’m still in January.”

“It’s April.”

“Like I said....Swanky.”

Humming softer you don’t look out at the party. Opting to turn around and face up towards the rest of your friend’s nice house. Arms crossed over your bust as you listen carefully to the song below, “...I guess...the playlist is nice. But...I’d rather just be with those I love. Maybe drinking. Maybe dancing. None of this really....that is if I wanted to have a birthday that is.”

Sideways glance in your direction, Makki looked at the one person he might consider his best friend. Aside from Mattsun. You were his partner in crime for so much. Since you were kids. And now you were standing at a party you didn’t like and Makki hadn’t even thought he’d be invited to. How alone did he have to be to feel like this was ok when he was standing right next to you.

“...Maybe I can take you out later. Like- This weekend or something,” Makki shrugged nonchalantly, “You can wear the dress, if you want. But I’m not wearing this stupid suit.”

His offer brought a bit of a grin to your face. Casting your gaze over to him and admiring the fact he was quite dashing in such a get up. Neither of you had been fancied up at the same time since Mattsun’s house warming party over a year ago. And that itself was brief.

“It would be a shame if we both look this good and no one danced with us.” You off handedly comment.

Again Makki’s brow raises, “Birthday girl should go snag a dance then.”

“Nah,” You toss a look back down behind you, “I don’t want to dance with anyone down there.”

Makki snorted, “Iwa might be in the bathroom.”

“Nah Iwa has two left feet.”

“Mattsun had his shoes shined for this. They’re as clean as that table in the hallway.”

“Mattsun is a left foot.”

“Nice.” Makki high fived you for the zinger. His laugh short lived though as he looked at you even as you were distracted elsewhere, “...Don’t know what time it is in Argentina but who knows Skype Oikawa and he might give you a dance.”

The sentiment was nice. Really each of your friends would have danced with you if you asked. After all these years you still considered them some of your closest friends. But none of them where who you thought about when you imagined a dance a top a balcony in the midst of a party.

“You talk too much.” You break away to find Makki staring at you, “But I don’t care. I like listening to you.”

Makki’s lopsided smile didn’t fade but he looked down with a little shrug, “Maybe I’m just afraid of saying the wrong thing so I keep talking.”

“Well.” You looked up at him, “If you could say something that scares you, what would it be?”

Tongue held. Makki had a few. Ok, a lot. But seeing you stand in front of him with the gentle melody of the music drifting upwards. He really only thought of one.

“Will you dance with me? If I weren’t afraid of saying anything that is.”  You step closer to him. Closing the gap between the two of you as one hand found his. With ease your fingers laced with his like they always had in the past. Makki gave your hand a squeeze and looked at you, “And if you could say something you’re afraid of?”

You look up at him, “I’d ask you to dance with me.”

“Not a better party?” Makki quips.

“A better party would mean dancing with you.”

He can’t help the softening smile playing on his lips. Makki is certain he can feel his heartbeat in his throat now but it’s all to be pushed aside when he pulls you into him. 

Arms wrapped around your shoulders in the longest hug. You share in the gesture when your arms loop under his armpits. Nice and snug. It takes less time to find you both swaying to the hum of the music than it did for you to embrace one another.

“...it’s been a little hard.” Makki mutters, lips pressed to the top of your head.

“...I was afraid you wouldn’t come.” You reply quietly. Hugging him tighter as your cheek presses against the warm button of his shirt. You can feel his warmth under the layers of faux look.

“What are you talking about?” Makki pulled away a little offended to hear such a thing, “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my friend.”

The smile you first had dips to a frown, “...we stopped talking so much. It felt like we lost touch...I guess, running away from my birthday. I thought I could go back to being your friend.”

“You have always been my friend,” He shakes his head, expressing a little more concern than he meant to as he squeezed you tighter, “It’s been a little tough. Loosing my job. Finding another. It’s been tough. I- I didn’t want you to be embarrassed by me. I thought I shouldn’t stay. That’s why-” He stopped, embarrassing himself all over again, “-that’s why I came up here. I was thinking about leaving so you could have your party.”

“Takahiro,” He never realized how weird his named sounded until it came from your lips. Saying it though yanked his attention fully on you before him, “I don’t want to be here if you aren’t. I want to spend my birthday with people I love...I want to spend it, with you-”

Urgently Makki leaned down and pressed his hips against yours. 

The first time since freshman year of high school. So many other kisses between that one and now. Lovers. Friends. Cheeks. Lips. Back of hands. Tops of heads. So many kisses between that one you shared freshman year and now. 

All this time you thought you’d be afraid. Afraid to feel this again. Too loose this again. But when Makki’s kiss slowly disappeared and left the two of you looking at each other. Suddenly you weren’t afraid.

Hand coming up around his neck you pull the man back down to you. Kissing him all over again. Knowing it wasn’t the first time but set that it wouldn’t be the last time now.

“...I’ll always be there.” Makki muttered against your lips, “Even if you don’t want to celebrate your birthday. I’ll be here. Dancing with you and kissing you until you tell me to go away.”

“What if I never tell you to go away?” You look at him, fingers curling in the hairs at the nape of his neck, “And, what if I want to celebrate my birthday every year with you.”

Suddenly relieved he didn’t leave. Makki pulled you not only into him but also for the third kiss of the night. Grinning against your lips, “You don’t even have to dance with me in your party dress. Just dance with me and I’ll kiss you every day of the year, plus your birthday. And I won’t make you drink champagne.”

[xmagicxshopx]

💋 Often 💋

Genre: Slice of Life, Comedy Rating: M (smut) Warnings: strip club, oral (f receiving), protected penetrative sex Pairing: stripper!jungkook x reader Notes: AU fic. Not idol!jungkook. Single quote marks ‘ ‘ are for thoughts and double “ “ are for talking. Additional Notes: This is a project and collaboration by myself, @katebacks​ and @taevjim​ Mine is based on the song Often by The Weeknd

Summary: She asked me if i do this everyday, i said often. Asked how many times she rode the wave, not so often. Bitches down to do it either way, often. Baby i can make that pussy rain, often.

Routine.

You were all about the routine. It was what you knew and what you were comfortable with; the different and the unknown being your two biggest fears in life. You had a routine. A simple five-day, nine-to-five job that paid you well. A morning schedule of get ready for work, coffee and bagel for breakfast, feed the cat, and drive exactly 20 and a half minutes to get to work. Your evenings were no different as far as having a set schedule. Come home, feed the cat, pop dinner in the microwave, eat, chill, sleep.

All of your friends and family, even your coworkers, tried to gently and kindly nudge you into mixing your life up a bit. Add some spice to it. Broaden your horizon. But you were just fine with the way things were. You didn’t need any spice in your life and your horizon was as broad as you wanted it to be. Your belief? Don’t fix it if it’s not broken and your life wasn’t broken in the slightest. Everything was just peachy. You were happy and that’s what mattered most, right?

Or were you happy?

You scoffed at your reflection in your bathroom mirror as the self doubt started to creep into your brain like an ominous fog. Of course you were happy! Why wouldn’t you be??? Brushing off the sudden wave of doubt that managed to fill your very core, you continued getting ready for work before heading out the door. But of course not before feeding your cat at exactly ten minutes till eight.

Upon walking into the office, you noticed that it was just another day. Everyone already at their desks typing away in their little cubicles while papers could be heard shuffling around into neat, organized piles. The copier buzzing away as it performed the tasks asked of it. You liked this. This was your comfort zone. Routine was good. Everything was good. You had just put your purse away and went to sit down at your desk when one of your coworkers popped up over the top of your cubicle.

“So, girl friend! It’s a Friday and I’m taking you out whether you like it or not. Be ready by nine!”

Wait what???

“But---”

“Wear something slutty, too.”

Okay, yeah. Because that was totally your style. As your coworker went back to her own work, it was now your turn to carefully climb onto your desk on your knees so that you could look over the other cubicle. Scoffing softly, you tried your best to argue over why you couldn’t go out with her tonight.

“But Gigi, I don’t have anything like that and besides, I go to bed by nine. I need my beauty sleep.”

You knew your words were weak and sounded feeble even to your own ears. What kind of excuses were those??? Well, in your defense, you really didn’t have anything in your wardrobe that Gigi would consider ‘slutty’ and the both of you knew this. With a soft huff, your coworker simply rolled her eyes and said with a confident grin,

“Fine. I’ll lend you something to wear. We’re similar in size and body build so it’ll totally work. And tonight you’re skipping out on that beauty sleep. You’ll have plenty of time to recover over the weekend.”

Just as you were about to try and come up with yet another lame excuse, Gigi continued in addition,

“And today you’re not driving home. You’re driving to my place. I’ll give you the address and we’ll make a whole evening out of it. We’ll order take-out and stuff our faces so that the food can absorb the alcohol we’re gonna tank ourselves in tonight. It’s gonna be a blast!”

Somehow you highly doubted that. None of that sounded like a fun time to you. Well maybe the take-out part. Pouting in both defeat and confusion, you couldn’t help but wonder what had gotten into your coworker. You and Gigi weren’t official friends or anything so why was she doing this for you? Why put so much effort into someone who didn’t want it? With a soft huff, you muttered in defeat,

“Fine.”

It was all you could think about during the day while you tried to focus on work. Sure you knew there’d be a lot of time spent in the safety of your coworker’s home, but then where could she possibly be taking you that had to wait till after nine at night? Wait----She mentioned alcohol. Ugh. It was probably a club. Gross. Loud music, sweaty body odor every time you turn around, the stench of cheep beer. Ugh. That was not your idea of a fun night out. You didn’t even dance. You don’t even dance in front of your cat!

Before you knew it, it was five o’clock and time to pack up for the day and start the weekend. Normally, you’d be treating yourself to some drive thru food and just staying indoors till you had to leave for work the next Monday morning. However, thanks to Gigi, those plans had changed and you still weren’t all that excited about it. Pouting like a child who hadn’t gotten her way, you trudged yourself out of your cubicle to see a beaming Gigi by the elevator waiting for you.

“Don’t look so glum, we’re gonna have a great time!”

“Why are you doing all of this? You hardly know me.”

Just then, the elevator made a bell sound indicating that it had finally reached the floor you were on and the doors opened up for the both of you. As the two of you stepped inside, Gigi pressed the lobby button before clearing her throat a bit shyly and replied in a small, sheepish tone,

“I just hate to see you missing out on life, you know? I’m still new in town and I don’t have a lot of friends and you’re the only one who’s shown me any sort of kindness. I really appreciate that so I know you’re a good person and I just.....I dunno. This is going weird. Just go with it, okay?”

Never before had you seen your coworker so awkward. Gigi was always strutting her stuff with her body language screeching ‘confident’. To see her so shy and sheepish like this was new for you but somehow, you found yourself smiling and feeling touched. Suddenly feeling quite timid yourself, you cleared your throat and said softly,

“Well, I don’t know how good of a friend I’d make, but we can be friends if you want?”

You weren’t expecting the loud squeal of joy followed by the near tackle to the elevator floor as Gigi practically flung herself at you. It never dawned on you just how lonely your coworker must feel after moving to town. An area where she knew absolutely no one. No wonder she was overjoyed to hear your words. Awkwardly patting her back, you smiled up at the elevator ceiling before the doors finally opened again and brought the two of you out into the lobby.

“We’re gonna have so much fun, girly! I just know it! Dinner’s on me tonight, okay? You can pay for your drinks but dinner is definitely my treat. Come on, I’ll just meet you over at your place so you can leave your car and then we’ll drive together over to my place in my car.”

Everything was happening so fast and you definitely weren’t used to it. You preferred life in the slow lane but dang. Gigi was making that a thing of the past. Perhaps it was just her happiness of having made a new friend that caused her to be live like a wire and talking 90 miles a minute? Either way, before you could blink, you were giving her directions to your house and dropping your car off so that you could hop into hers.

During the ride to Gigi’s place, the two of you discussed what to have for dinner. Turns out she was indeed taking you to a club later tonight so alcohol was on the table as well. You could only imagine what a light weight you must be considering the fact that you really didn’t drink much. You were more of a celebratory drinker. Things like holidays and such. Otherwise, you never touched the stuff. You preferred your teas and coffee.

After deciding on Korean BBQ, the two of you placed your orders and had it delivered to Gigi’s place where the two of you eventually dug in; getting sauce all over your faces and laughing at each other over how messy the two of you looked. It was nice. This was nice. Something that you really didn’t think you’d feel based on your previous mindset. Perhaps getting out and socializing wasn’t so bad? This wasn’t so bad.

However, as the night hours passed, the hurdles only got more and more difficult to get over.

“Can’t I just go in what I’m wearing???”

“Girl----You’re wearing work clothes. No one goes to a club in their work clothes.”

The blush on your face was enough to zip your lips as you let your coworker now turned friend do her thing. Work her magic, you supposed. Would you even look right wearing something other than your usual conservative attire? Subconsciously nibbling your bottom lip in worry, you watched Gigi as she started pulling out pieces of clothing to inspect them, only to put them right back. You knew it. Nothing was going to look right on you. This just wasn’t your bag.

“Ha! Found it!”

Dang it.

Trying not to pout too loudly, you watched the girl whip out a dress that looked way too form fitting for your liking. It was drenched in sequins and jet black. Well....black went with everything, right? At least it was a color you were used to wearing as most of your work clothes were black. Perhaps that was what Gigi was going for? Something that she knew you’d at least be somewhat comfortable with due to the familiarity of it. If that was the case, then you were extremely grateful and liking this newfound friendship more and more.

“Okay so you’ll be wearing this and I have some stockings for you too. Once we’re dressed, we’ll put on some makeup.”

“Makeup?”

“Yes, makeup. We’re going to a club, girl! We gotta look pretty for those boys.”

“Boys?”

“You’ll see, girl friend.”

You simply whined and pouted with sagged shoulders as Gigi flashed you a cheeky smile and wink in return. This was too much. Yet at the same time......you were......curious? Yeah. That was it. Definitely not excited. Just curious. Still pouting, you went to work on unzipping the dress she handed you and started to carefully step into it. Gosh it really was form fitting, wasn’t it? Your cheeks flared up in embarrassment but went ahead and had Gigi zip you up.

No turning back now.

Once the both of you were dressed, it was time to put makeup on. You had quickly informed the girl that you didn’t know the first thing about makeup which didn’t come as a surprise to either of you. In fact, Gigi had full intentions of doing your makeup as well as her own. You weren’t sure if you should have felt insulted or comforted. In the moment, you were more relieved than anything because if you were in charge of doing your own......you’d just skip out on that step altogether.

“Okay, so I’ll have you watch me first and then I’ll do yours. Just in case you ever decide you want to try and do your own someday.”

The probability of you doing your own makeup one day was slim to none but it was still sweet of your coworker to say such things and offer such advice. With all the products Gigi had spread out on her bathroom counter, you figured this would take awhile. No wonder she was starting so early. You could only imagine how much all of those products cost her. It looked like a small fortune scattered all over the counter. But it wasn’t like you’d know.

However, you did as she asked and decided to watch and it wasn’t till it was over that you realized just how wrapped up you were in watching her. It was like watching a painter perform art with Gigi’s face being the blank canvas. You had no idea watching someone apply makeup could be so.....fascinating? Interesting? You weren’t quite sure of what word you were looking for but you found yourself blushing when she caught you being quite involved in paying attention.

“Okay! Your turn, girly!”

So there you stood with her applying all kinds of products to your face. You were pretty sure she put at least three different kinds of things on your lips. Something about a foundation layer and then eventually topping it all off with some gloss. Dunno. You got lost with how fast she was going through it all. Gigi knew what she was doing and that much was clear. Once she was done with your lips and you could talk freely, you couldn’t help but ask in a small and timid voice,

“So how did you get so good with makeup?”

“Oh I used to work in one of the malls and my sole job was to do people’s makeup while introducing them to the latest products. It was fun for the longest time but it didn’t pay enough. So I moved here when a job opening came up.”

Wow. You knew exactly what type of employee she was because you’d always eyeball the young girls getting their makeup done just for the fun of it while you roamed the racks for new work clothes. No wonder Gigi was so good at this. It had been her job for the longest time. You felt the need to at least give her some kind of tip but you knew right away that she’d never take it; insisting that she was no longer on the job anymore.

“There! We’re ready to par-tay!”

‘Yay.....’

Gigi said that it would be pointless to do either of your guys’ hair so you two just simply brushed it a bit and let it hang loose. Having only your bulky purse, Gigi kindly offered you a clutch purse that went with your dress perfectly; offering to keep the rest of your belongings at her place to keep them safe. But you had all the important stuff in the clutch and that was good enough for you.

The two of you would take an Uber so that the both of you could get trashed as Gigi so elegantly put it. You highly doubted you’d drink enough to get wasted but it was a smart idea. This way you could just go straight home in case you wanted to leave before your friend was ready. You had the feeling you’d be leaving way before she did.

Upon arriving at the club, you could feel your body going into some kind of panic mode. Eyes wide, face flushed with heat, and you’re pretty sure your heart is swimming in your stomach. Perhaps you shouldn’t have ate so much. The possibility that you could puke was high at the moment. Looking all around you, were strippers. The majority of them female but you could spot a few males and good lord. Your eyes. Your poor poor eyes. In a shouted whisper, you scolded the girl next to you.

“You brought us to a strip club!?!!?”

“Don’t act so mortified. Lots of people go. See?”

“I’m not one of those people, Gi!!!”

But all you got was a coo in response as your coworker-turned-friend squished your cheeks together at the cute nickname you had just subconsciously given her. Before you could further complain and even rush out the door, you were being dragged to the bar area. Good lord. There were naked and half naked people everywhere. How could anyone call this fun??? It was barbaric!! With cheeks still flushed in shock and now embarrassment, you simply let Gigi order the drinks for the two of you so that you could try to pull yourself together.

It was going to be a loooonnng night.

With a couple drinks in your system, you were definitely starting to feel it. A light weight. You knew you were a light weight but dang. Allowing the tipsy Gigi to guide you over to a table close to the stage, you didn’t find yourself whining at the idea of being so close up to someone who was going to strip right in front of you. Perhaps it was the alcohol messing with your brain and you just didn’t have the energy to care anymore. You were stuck here so might as well make the most of it, right?

And then he walked out.

If you weren’t so out of it thanks to the alcohol, you would have had better control over your bodily functions. Like trying to prevent from drooling all over yourself. He was absolutely gorgeous. And that was putting it lightly in your opinion.

His facial features reminded you of a rabbit but he was anything but cute right now. Those doe eyes of his were sharp yet hooded as he put on a show of pure seduction while on stage. Yes. This man was a stripper but you couldn’t bring yourself to care right now. Your embarrassment was traded in for fascination as you watched him saunter his way to the center of the stage.

Dark locks hung in front of his beautifully handsome face and the product used in it made it appear as if he had just gotten out of the shower and his hair was still wet. It wasn’t the only thing wet right now as you tried to press your thighs closer together. Good lord. What age were you? Sixteen? Subconsciously licking your dry lips, you watched as he began to unbutton the sleeves of his dress shirt.

Yes. He was fit for all purposes of the word. You could tell this guy went to the gym often because of the way his muscles bulged within the confines of his outfit. His dress shirt had some sort of sequins in it that made it sparkle under the harsh lighting of the stage. It was like he himself was sparkling in all his gorgeousness. You truly had never seen such a more handsome man before. Not even on magazine covers.

As he worked on unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, you let your eyes wander further down his body. God his thigh muscles. How on earth did he even fit in those pants? They looked painted on! The next thing you knew, he was pulling the hem of his shirt from the confinements of those skin tight pants. If you weren’t certain he went to the gym before, you were absolutely positive now.

After watching him allow his dress shirt to fall on the stage floor, you were definitely drooling at this point. In fact, you were so wrapped up in watching this mysterious man perform that you didn’t even notice Gigi leaving you to your own devices. Had you been paying her any mind, you would have pouted at her smug expression of victory as she moved back to the bar for another drink.

With the man now shirtless, you took your good old time admiring his freshly exposed skin. He was perfect. You were pretty sure no other man could be as perfect and flawless as him. At least appearance wise. If this guy wasn’t proud of his body, then he should be. From the looks of things, perhaps he was a little too proud. You were a little drunk but you weren’t blind drunk. You could be blind and still be able to see the confidence that radiated off of him in waves.

What you didn’t expect, however, was for him to walk off the stage and into the crowd.

Walking right towards you.

Wait what????

Your eyes widened in shock as he strutted his way over to you. There was no mistaking that it was you he was after because there was no one else at the table you were sitting at. No. His eyes were all on you and the heat was spreading from your face, all the way down your neck and to the tips of your ears. Gosh this was so embarrassing! Where was Gigi!?!? Your heart pounded in your ears over the music as the man slowly held out his hand for you to take.

As if you still had no control over your own body, you found yourself placing your shaking, clammy hand in his own. Gosh his hands were big too. You felt so small at the realization as he gently gripped your hand in his. The next thing you knew, you were being swiftly pulled from your chair and twirled around only to land in a solid, hard lap. You were sobering up pretty quickly. Or at least it seemed like it.

Dear god this was so mortifying!!

“The name is Jungkook. I’m guessing from the frightened look on your face, you don’t come here often. Would I be guessing correctly, beautiful?”

God you needed to say something, anything, but you were just too shocked and embarrassed by your current situation that all you could do was part your lips but no sounds came out. Your eyes did all the talking as they stared into his own; yours full of helplessness and yes you were definitely scared. A shirtless stranger had you in his lap like it was no big deal. Handsome, sure, but still a complete stranger. He smiled and chuckled softly in endearment before carefully helping you off his lap and back to stand on your own two feet.

“I’ll take that as a yes. But worry not, beautiful, you’re safe with me. I won’t hurt you. Here, take this and once I’m done performing, hand this to the bartender and he’ll bring you right to me. I promise it’ll be worth your while.”

You stood there like a bump on a log as you watched him fish in his back pocket for something. How could he fit anything in those pants besides his hot ass and thighs? Seriously!? Those things weren’t painted on??? Blinking and feeling half numb by this point, you felt him press something into your palm and even helped close your fingers around it. As he walked away coolly back towards the stage to do his thing, you stared down at what was in your hand while fumbling to find your seat again. You definitely needed to sit down right now.

A key. This Jungkook guy had given you a key. It looked pretty antique and vintage, like something you’d see back in medieval times, but you weren’t going to question it. No. The real question was---were you really gonna take him up on this offer of his. Then again.....what exactly was he offering you? A private lap dance? That had to be what it was. Something that you wanted no part of.

Or did you?

Ugh. This was so troublesome. So annoying! Then again.....what did you really have to lose? But what if you couldn’t trust this guy? There was just so many things you didn’t know. Not to mention you were scared of looking like an even bigger idiot in front of him. He probably thought you were some spineless virgin. Granted the spineless part wasn’t far from the truth but at least you weren’t a virgin...

And before you knew it, the man was sauntering off stage back towards the curtains where he disappeared from sight. You almost choked when you realized he had stripped down to nothing but his boxer briefs. Was it a shame that you only caught his backside in that state? Wait----Of course not! You didn’t want to see what this guy was carrying around in his pants......

Or did you?

Trying to decide if you had too much to drink or not enough, you sat there for a few minutes longer weighing your options. On one hand, you could go in and see what he was proposing and if you didn’t like it, you could always back out. On the other hand, if you walk away now, you might be missing out on something that you didn’t realize you wanted. Heck, you never imagined you’d start the weekend off with a new friend. Perhaps you really did need to broaden your horizons.

Taking a deep breath, you stood from your chair and headed over to the bar where Jungkook, you’re pretty sure that was his name, had told you to hand the key over. The bartender seemed nice enough as he took the key and nodded his head with a soft ‘this way, my dear’. Oh boy. Here we go. No backing out now. It was now or never. You had half a mind to text Gigi what you were doing but something told you she didn’t miss the whole scene of you sitting in a stripper’s lap.

You were guided through a door that no doubt lead to a backstage type setting but you were totally not prepared for the scene you practically stumbled upon. Girls. So many girls. Some were half dressed while some walked around completely naked. Holy----Your eyes. Again, you weren’t a virgin but you might as well have been considering how warm your face had gotten. Some of them even giggled and flashed you cheeky winks. Oh boy. Apparently privacy wasn’t a thing around here. You could only hope there would be more privacy where you were headed.

Speaking of, after walking down two more hallways, the bartender finally reached a door and used that very same key to unlock a door before cracking it open just enough to let someone know you were here. Of course you could only presume it was Jungkook. Good lord. Hopefully there was no one else in the room. One stripper was all you could handle right now. And heck you couldn’t even handle that!

After the bartender politely bid you farewell, you found yourself gulping down a lump that had suddenly formed in your throat as you stared at the slightly cracked open door. This was it. Supposedly Jungkook was waiting on the other side. What if he was already naked??? Dear god maybe you should just politely decline and catch an Uber home. Yeah. That sounded like a good idea. Get a nice cup of black coffee and some headache pills so that you wouldn’t suffer a hango----

“You can come in, beautiful. It’s safe. I promise.”

Why did he have to sound so soothing and convincing for, huh?! Wishing you had a tall glass of ice water to jug down right about now, you did your best to brace yourself for what was on the other side of the door. Gosh your face already felt like it was on fire. How embarrassing! With a clammy and shaky hand, you put your weight on the door and eased it open further so that you could poke your head inside.

Oh.....

It looked so.....normal? Perhaps even.....casual and dare you say.......soothing?

It was pretty much set up like a master bedroom you’d find in any normal house. There was a mini bar set up with some expensive looking alcohol and drinking glasses already filled. Soft R&B music was playing in the background but the volume was so low that it indeed sounded like simple background noise. You could smell something. It was soothing but you could only guess it was coming from some kind of candle or maybe a diffuser.

“Hello there, sweetheart. I’m glad to see you took me up on my offer. I can assure you, I don’t bite. Unless of course you’re into that kind of thing.”

He was dressed so casually compared to the last time you saw him only moments ago. He was decked out for comfort despite what you believe his intentions were. Dark gray sweatpants and a matching hooded sweatshirt. They looked thin in material so it was probably just to help keep him modest while in your presence. His hair still had that wet look to it thanks to the mountain of products he probably had in it.

“Come sit with me and have a drink. Or would you prefer some water? You look quite flushed.”

“W-Water would be nice, thank you.”

Not realizing your legs had felt like jello, you managed to hobble your way over to the couch where you took a much needed seat. Your hands were still shaking a bit but perhaps it was just from the lingering nerves. The atmosphere really was soothing thanks to the dimmed lights that gave off a warm and soft glow; casting the perfect amount of shadow over everything. You were pretty sure you were smelling lavender and it was a comforting scent for sure.

“Here you go, love. Just try to relax. I’m not here to do anything you aren’t comfortable with. But you looked like you needed to loosen up. Maybe someone to talk to?”

Softly thanking him for the water, you tried not to chug it back but it was hard given how shook up you were. Not to mention your face still felt pretty warm. Perhaps you would have been better off to just splash yourself in the face with it instead. Managing to take a couple gulps without looking silly, you held the cup in your lap before looking over at him with guarded and curious eyes.

“So.....we just sit here and talk?”

“If that’s what you’re comfortable with? I’m at your service. Your wish is my command as the saying goes.”

His soft chuckles filled the room and you couldn’t help but find yourself smiling a little. Were all strippers this chill? Now that you thought about it, what made strippers different from anyone else? It wasn’t like they were some kind of exotic creature. They too were just normal, every day humans making a living. It wasn’t like they were a different kind of species.

Maybe this would be okay after all.

“So......you’re not here to give me a lap dance?”

“Oh my god! You’re so cute! I can’t!”

You watched in utter amazement as Jungkook, who had since been siting next to you on the couch, started to curl in on himself while he laughed; carefully holding his glass of whatever alcohol he was drinking in one hand while his other wrapped around his waist. Pouting and semi folding your arms due to the fact that you were still holding a glass of water, you mumbled in your own defense,

“What?! It’s a legit and reasonable question!”

Still pouting while watching and waiting for him to pull himself together, you decided to distract yourself with your glass of water. At least the blush in your face was letting up. Did that mean you were already getting comfortable with him? This guy.......He was like magic in that way. Knowing exactly what you needed to feel comfortable and relaxed. Then again.....he probably did this with everyone he brought back here. You suddenly felt the need to stand rather than sit on the couch.

“I swear, we’re only here to do whatever you want. So if you want a lap dance, I can do that. If you want to just sit here and chill, I can do that too.”

“But......why me? You had tons of other girls out there to pick from to bring back here. So why pick me? Clearly I’m an awkward turtle. Doesn’t exactly scream sexy.”

It was a fair question. A question that you were eager to have an answer for. Watching him closely, you noticed he was rubbing his chin in thought as if he was trying to find the right words to explain his reasoning behind bringing you back here. With a soft hum of said thought, Jungkook took a sip from his glass before replying casually while meeting your eyes,

“I guess you just looked.....lonely? Lost? You looked like you needed this. Clearly you didn’t come to a strip club by choice or at least not entirely. I could feel your tension clear across the stage. I was going to offer you a massage but I don’t want to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

Okay well that was fair. You couldn’t help but notice how good he was at reading people. Or perhaps you were just simply an open book. Yeah. It was probably that. You had often been told by everyone in your family that you carry your heart on your sleeve and your emotions along with it. Just as you were mentally scoffing at said family, Jungkook’s voice once again broke through your thoughts.

“Tell me, cutie, if it’s not too personal or prying to ask, when’s the last time you got laid?”

Well so much for that fading blush of yours. Granted, you knew you didn’t owe him an answer. Your sex life was your business and no one else’s. However....there was just something about Jungkook that made him easy to talk to. He gave off this aura of comfort and made you feel like you could tell him anything. With your cheeks still rosy and your ears just as red, you timidly sipped from your water again before mumbling in shame,

“Too long ago.”

But rather than laugh at you again, he offered you a sympathetic, lopsided smile; his eyes full of understanding and a small nod to go with it. You were grateful that he had picked up on the topic being a sensitive one for you and therefore respecting your feelings and not wanting to hurt you by poking fun. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he set his glass down on the side table that was on his end of the couch.

“Well, to be frank, I’m more than willing to give you a lap dance if you think it’d help you relax and unwind. I personally think it’d be good for you. You’ve got too much pent up tension there and I think we’re both in agreement when I say everyone needs a good release every once in awhile.”

Was he inclining what you thought he was inclining???

“You mean you want to have sex with me?”

His soft snort of laughter made you pout once more while you subconsciously tried to fan your face. Sure the lighting was dim in the room but was it doing anything to hide your raging blush? With a soft and warm smile, Jungkook couldn’t help but shake his head at you in fond amusement. You really were the cutest. Dramatically raising his hands as in defense or surrender, he said casually,

“All I’m saying is, that I’m more than willing to make you cum, pretty girl. You really look like you need a good release. I have no doubt you’ll feel better afterwards. I’ve been told I have the golden touch.”

Despite your lingering embarrassment, you weren’t too far gone to roll your eyes at his overflowing humbleness. But now you had a decision to make. Clearly Jungkook was a safe guy to be around. He wasn’t some crazy trying to rape you or anything. Or at least you were pretty sure he was a decent guy with a straight head on his shoulders. Absentmindedly nibbling on your bottom lip, you took a moment longer to think about it.

“So......how exactly do you give me a lap dance? Do I sit in a chair or something?”

Gosh you were absolutely adorable. Precious, even. Jungkook swore that if you got any cuter, he was going to have to retire and ask you out on a date. Or at least ask for your number and maybe meet up for coffee. Did you like coffee? You probably did. You looked like a coffee drinker. He wondered what your favorite drink was. Mentally shaking his head and focusing on his job once more, he smiled with his eyes sparkling in warm amusement before saying casually,

“It all depends on what you’re comfortable with, really. I can also easily give you a little show on the bed. Actually, the bed would probably be more comfortable for you.”

He then added with a slightly more serious tone,

“But if you do decide this is something you want to do, just remember that you make the rules in this too. While I have my own set of guidelines, I’m only here to do what makes you comfortable.”

Nodding in full understanding, you bit your bottom lip once more as you decided if this was something you really wanted to go through with. Jungkook really was a handsome young man. You’d probably be stupid to turn him down. And it seemed like he was allowing you to call most of, if not all, the shots in this. He would only do what you asked of him. What you permitted him to do. That alone was comforting enough for you to say----

“So the bed?”

“The bed. Make yourself comfortable, baby girl. I’m gonna take good care of you. Promise.”

Your face flushed pink yet again with a small, shy pout as he flashed you a bright smile and cheeky wink. Good lord you were really going to do this. Okay. Okay. You could do this. You needed this. It wasn’t like you were entirely blind. Of course you needed a good release but you had just never been given the right push to get there. Not to mention it had never fit into your daily routine.

After all, you were all about the routine.

Perhaps Jungkook would become part of that daily set schedule of yours....

“It’s okay to keep your clothes on but you might find yourself more comfortable if you take them off. Just saying.”

He had a point. You were already warm thanks to your permanent blush. This was it. Time to throw all caution out the window and just go for it. You weren’t a teenager having her first time. No. You were a young woman with a body to be proud of. You deserved this. Steeling yourself up with that confident mindset, you nodded and started to undress till you were left in only your black bra, matching panties, and your stockings.

Seeing that you had started to warm up to the idea and was becoming more comfortable with things, Jungkook decided it was his cue to finally get into character while being mindful of your shy nature. He felt like a lion and you were his little lamb. So pure and yet easily frightened. There was just something about you that spoke out to him. He wanted to help you. And that urge confused even himself.

“Okay, beautiful, I’m going to start now.”

With his hands reaching back for his light sweatshirt, he couldn’t resist adding with a smile and a bit of a warm and playful glint in his eyes,

“You look absolutely gorgeous, by the way. Keep those stockings on too.”

While mumbling a soft and shy thanks, you watched him as he did that super hot thing guys do when taking off their shirt. That thing where they magically tug the piece of material over their head from the back. Why was it so hot, anyway?? Was that just something every woman came to accept? It must have worked on you because Jungkook’s soft chuckles filled the room once more. Looking up into his eyes, you noticed he was rather smug and pleased with himself.

“Like what you see, cutie?”

“Well----I mean----You have a nice body. So yeah. I guess I do.”

You hated how choppy your sentences sound but it was like this guy knew how to turn your brain into absolute mush. You were already like putty in his hands and he had only taken his shirt off with those sweatpants hanging perfectly from his hips. Perhaps you really did need to get laid....

Just then, you watched as he started to swivel those very hips in a way that had you involuntarily gulping and pressing your thighs together. The last thing you wanted to do was make a mess of this bed. But then again.....perhaps that was part of Jungkook’s plan for you. He said he wanted to make you cum, after all. You hadn’t realized your throat and lips were so dry till you sucked in a breath at a particularly sudden hip thrust. Oh wow. He was so good!!

You definitely made the right decision to go along with this.

“Touch yourself if you need to, baby girl. It’s okay to explore.”

“I-I’m good. Just ke-keep going-ing.”

You could get used to his warm chuckles of amusement. It felt good to know that he wasn’t really laughing at you in a sense of mocking you. It was more like.....maybe he found you endearing? Whatever it was, you were just glad he wasn’t mocking you or belittling you for your lack of experience in all of this. Despite being a stripper, that certainly didn’t make Jungkook a bad guy.

You could actually see yourself sitting down with him over a cup of coffee. You wondered if he even liked coffee? He seemed like the kind of guy that you might find in a cafe sipping on a nice iced Americano.

“Focus, baby. Try not to let your mind wander or you’ll miss all the fun.”

He must have realized you were really zoning out and getting lost in your thoughts because after blinking mental images of coffee shops away, you nearly choked when you saw that he had stripped away his sweatpants and was left standing in front of you with nothing but his boxer briefs on. Dang he was built! He had to be pure muscle. Had to be!

Unknowingly licking your dry lips and swallowing a new lump in your throat, you decided to make yourself more comfortable by scooting back further onto the bed where you could rest your back up against the pillows and headboard. Once you were in a good spot, you turned your attention back to Jungkook and found he had somewhat of a dangerous smirk on his face. Oh boy....

“You really do look beautiful, baby girl. I can’t wait to take care of you like you deserve. If you’ll have me, of course.”

Not able to find your voice, you simply nodded while subconsciously playing with your fingers in your lap; thighs still pressed tightly together. Grinning, the male made sure to move his hips just right as he approached the foot of the bed. You couldn’t help but wonder what his game plan was to take care of you. And that was when he tilted his head to the side in curiosity and asked in a light tone,

“May I join you, lovely?”

“Ye--Yeah.”

“Wonderful. Let me know if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, okay?”

Still not having much of a voice, you simply nodded and watched him approach you like a predator after his prey. That smirk was back as he slowly climbed onto the bed; the mattress dipping under his weight. You could hear your own heart pounding in your ears as the anticipation built. This was your last chance to back out but for some reason you remained silent. Perhaps you really did want this.

The next thing you knew, he was gently running his hand along your one leg while his lips were ghosting up the other. Goosebumps rose from your skin at his touch and yet your core was starting to get hotter and hotter. Perhaps Jungkook really did have the golden touch? You felt your breath catch when he finally started planting actual kisses to your leg; starting with your knee. He was being so gentle and slow. Something that you were extremely grateful for.

“Your skin is super soft, baby. You must take really good care of your body. I can appreciate that in a woman.”

“Th--Thanks. I try.”

Jungkook knew you were extremely nervous despite your agreement to go along with this so he wanted to take things slow and sort of ease you into the whole idea of what he had planned for you. As he finally reached up to your thighs, he couldn’t help but playfully nip at the delicious skin that greeted him. Your little yelp and jump was so cute. With his head nearly resting on your thigh, he couldn’t help but sneak a glance up at you.

Your face was so red and you knew it was. Hardly anything sexy to look at but to Jungkook you were so precious and endearing. He could just eat you right up. Lucky for you that was exactly his plan. Planting a soothing kiss over his little bite mark, he then moved up to where he was eye level with your cleavage but still looking up at you with eyes dark while full of excitement and curiosity. Licking his lips, he asked,

“May I?”

Upon seeing your timid nod of approval, he smiled more warmly before moving his eyes to his latest target. You had really nice breasts from what he could tell. Just the right size, too. Not being able to help himself any longer, he moved till he was more comfortable on his knees and gently took one of your soft mounds into his large hand. Oh yeah. You were soft. And just like that, a small moan fell from your lips. Like music to his ears.

“Don’t hold back, beautiful. I won’t know if I’m doing a good job if I can’t hear you.”

Knowing it was something you enjoyed, he decided to give your other breast his attention as well by using his free hand. With both palms now happily occupied as they slowly massaged your supple mounds, he couldn’t help but let his lips wander. Their next target? Your neck. He briefly wondered if it was a sensitive spot of yours because it would definitely seem your breasts were sensitive. He rolled his thumbs over your nipples and could feel them harden through the fabric of your bra.

“So beautiful. I bet your tits are absolutely divine. Would you let me see them, baby girl?”

You shivered and released a shaky moan as his lips lightly brushed up against the length of your neck. His hands were amazing and he had hardly touched you. There was a small voice in the back of your head that was screaming at you to say no. That this guy was still a complete stranger and had no business seeing your tits. However, this stranger was also making you feel things you didn’t realize you needed or wanted.

“Ye--Ye---Yeah. You can.”

Being careful as if not to frighten you away, he removed his hands from your bosom so that he could slowly and gently reach around you to unclasp your bra. While his deft fingers worked on the clasps, his lips found their way to your neck once more where he started planting soft, open mouthed kisses. Once he freed you from the confines of your bra, he slowly dragged the straps down your arms before taking the thing off completely.

Tossing the black bra somewhere behind him, he couldn’t peel his eyes away from the sight in front of him. You really were quite pretty and he wasn’t just talking about your tits. Although they were nice too. Absentmindedly licking his lips in eagerness, he couldn’t help but mumble,

“You’re absolutely gorgeous, my lovely. Do me a favor and lay down for me. I’m going to worship this body a little bit longer.”

Worship you? It just didn’t sound right to your ears. Then again, your self-esteem always did need a bit of work. Blushing to the point of lightly fanning your face once more, you nodded and timidly wiggled in between his legs so that you could comfortably rest your head on the pillows. Staring up at him with your eyes full of curiosity yet uncertainty, you asked shyly in a small tone,

“What are you gonna do?”

You poor thing. Had no one really ever treated you to something like this? And he wasn’t even going all out. For some reason, it really irked him at the thought that no man had ever truly took time to appreciate your body like this. However, not wanting you to think he was grumpy with you or having second thoughts, Jungkook wore a warm smile with softened eyes and spoke sincerely but with a hint of teasing in his voice,

“Well since you look positively delicious, I was thinking of eating you.”

Not giving you time to respond, he added slowly while his lips drew closer and closer to your bosom,

“First, I want to suck on these pretty tits of yours. Then.....”

You watched with a slightly heaving chest as he gracefully crawled down your body till his lips were just centimetres away from the waist line of your panties. His intense staring of your core was making you squirm and a soft whine slipped out before you could bite your tongue. His grin suddenly came back as his eyes flickered to make direct contact with your own.

“Then I’ll eat you out like you deserve. You’re a goddess and that’s how I intend to treat you.”

The next thing you knew, words were flying out of your mouth on your own accord.

“Can we just skip the tits and you eat me out now? I don’t think I can wait any longer. It’s killing me to wait.”

It really had been forever since you last did anything. Whether it be at the hands of someone else or yourself. You were quickly getting used to the permanent blush on your face and your embarrassment was quickly being replaced with impatience as you stared down at him where he was perched between your legs.

Yep. He was going to retire, quit stripping, and sweep you off your feet; carrying you out into the sunset to live happily ever after. You were just too freaking cute for words. He liked them shy and innocent because then he could completely ravish them till they were ruined and begging for more. You were totally his type. Grinning like a fox, he teasingly gripped the waist line of your panties between his teeth and tugged only to let them snap back against your skin before saying in a low tone,

“Well I did say your wish was my command.”

It wasn’t till he was lifting himself up to rest on his knees and thighs that you realized just how worked up you had gotten. The sexual frustration was starting to get the best of you; especially as you were sobering up pretty quickly. Not having realized that you had spread your legs for him at some point in the game, you simply spread them wider so that he’d have plenty of room to do whatever it was he had in store for you.

That fox-like grin still on his face, Jungkook couldn’t help but lean back down onto his elbows so that he could gently nuzzle your chest before planting soft kisses around your nipples. You were torn between whining and moaning as you both enjoyed the touch but also grew all the more impatient for where you really wanted him. After releasing a soft groan of pleasure, you couldn’t help but gently tug on his soft locks in warning while saying in a whining tone,

“Jungkoooook. Stoooop. You said you’d eat me out now!”

His rock hard body shook gently against your own as he chuckled at your adorable display of impatience. He was pleased to see you finally letting go and allowing yourself this moment. It had been a task and a half, but he finally got you here. Planting one last kiss to the underside of your breast, he slithered down your body like the seducing snake he could be and finally started planting kisses down your stomach to the waist line of your black panties.

“I’m sorry, love. But I can’t help myself. You’re just too beautiful not to admire.”

However, playtime was over. Gently tapping your thigh, he gave you the cue to lift your bum so that he could slip off your panties more easily. With a blink of an eye, you were left with nothing but your stockings which Jungkook had insisted you keep on because it made you look all the more sexy to him. You couldn’t tell if his compliments were sincere or not but you were so wound up that you didn’t really care at this point.

“God you look absolutely delicious. I can’t wait to taste you, baby girl.”

His words made your walls clench around nothing and it only caused more slick to pool between your thighs as Jungkook had since gotten himself more comfortable between your legs, throwing them over his shoulders. Gosh he was so muscular. You could see his muscles bulge as he worked on positioning you right where he wanted you. You both licked your lips as eyed each other with equal amounts of hunger.

You watched him lower his head before feeling his tongue for the first time. Eyes instantly snapping shut, you felt your back arch off the bed and a moan fall from your lips. Yes. Jungkook not only had the magic touch, but he had the magic tongue. You were certain of it. The male gently dug his shortened nails into the meat of your thighs as he too let out a moan of his own. You tasted just as wonderful has he imagined you would.

“God, babe. You’re delicious. You’re spoiling me here. Where have you been all my life?”

“I-I d-d-du-dunno.”

Your thighs started to shake when you felt his tongue flick over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Maybe it was because someone else was touching you but not even your most expensive vibrator could make you feel this good. Needing something to ground you, your hands found their way into his mess of hair and you found yourself gently tugging on the soft locks that lay between your fingers. The action made Jungkook moan and you felt the vibrations with full force.

The male enjoyed having his hair pulled despite how dominate he naturally was. He considered hair pulling one of the many signs that he was doing a good job and that was something that had always been important to him. He enjoyed making others feel good. One of the few reasons he hadn’t quit his job as a stripper. But there was something about you.......He just couldn’t place it.

You really did taste amazing, though. His eagerness was more genuine than for show. Wanting to increase your pleasure, he pressed his face harder into your core, his nose buried in your scent while his tongue got to taste you to the fullest. You were so warm and wet. Jungkook could only imagine how you’d feel around his cock. Which had since grown hard within his boxer briefs. Gosh it was always the cute and shy ones that turned him on the most.

As he went back to teasing your clit and sucking it with hunger, he heard your moans coming to a halt as you half shouted in a desperate tone,

“Jungkook-----I want your cock! Please! I need you in me! Now!”

Well that escalated quickly.

However, he wanted to make absolutely sure this was something you wanted. Pulling his face away from your core, he looked up at you through his eyelashes with eyes that had grown dark with lust. Yours too were just as dark which was a huge contrast to the innocent shine they had shown only moments ago. You suddenly weren’t so shy and definitely not innocent.

You were a total wreck at this point. Your mind was a mess but you knew what you wanted. You had long sobered up from what few drinks you had and you knew this was something you wanted. Something you needed. It had truly been awhile since you last experienced an orgasm and you were long overdue for one. Jungkook, stranger or not, was your ticket to release and nothing was going to stand in your way.

Not even your routine.

“Please, Jungkook. Please.”

“Easy, baby girl. I’ve got you. I’ll take really good care of you.”

Releasing your legs and climbing off the bed for just a moment, he could feel your eyes on him as he fished out a condom from one of the side drawers. You were so wrecked and it was a beautiful sight. Your eyes hooded with your chest heaving. He had hardly touched you. Poor thing, you must be really sensitive.

Climbing back onto the bed, he made quick work of ripping the package and rolling the condom onto his rock hard length. You really did turn him on. Normally, he had to work himself to full mast but you being you.....it was no problem. Perhaps you yourself was magic too. Given his line of work, it wasn’t often he found a client who could turn him on as much as you did.

“You’re going to feel so good around my cock, baby girl. You sure you don’t want me to stre-----”

“No! Please! I’m good. I promise. Just hurry! Want you so bad!”

Jungkook had no doubt that you could have quite the dirty mouth on you if you were to let yourself go far enough. It was almost hard to believe that just mere moments ago, you were this shy young woman who wouldn’t dare do something so scandalous as having sex with a stripper. Yet here you were, desperate under his touch. He loved it. Thrived in it.

The lion had his little lamb right where he wanted her.

Not wanting to keep you waiting any longer, he made himself comfortable between your legs once more before aligning himself with your sopping entrance. You were so beautiful with your face all flushed and chest rising and falling at a slightly rapid pace. Your soft locks sprawled all over the pillow. So so pretty. And all for him. Trying to focus, he slowly eased himself forward till he could feel the tip of his length nudge your entrance. God you were so warm. He could only imagine how wonderful you’d feel once he was fully inside you.

“You’re so freaking tight, baby girl. It really has been awhile, huh?”

“God too long! Too long! Please! Ruin me, Jungkook!”

He knew it. You could be a dirty little girl if you’d just let yourself loose from your own leash. He certainly hoped this wouldn’t be the last time the two of you saw each other. You were a real treat in his book. A treat he wanted again and again. Someone he could easily become addicted to being around if you’d let him.

He could feel your velvety walls clenching around him as you were stuffed full for the first time in a long while. Not wanting you to go into some sort of shock, he gently rubbed your sides with his warm hands in soothing, repetitive motions. Leaning down, he gently planted kisses along your face. Just anything to take your mind off the slight sting he knew you’d feel.

“Deep breaths, baby. Deep breaths. You’re right here and I’m not going to let anything hurt you, okay?”

“Ss-s-so full.”

“I know, baby. I know. Bet you’ve never had cock this good, huh?”

“Ne-Never. Never ever. Ss-so good.”

You were already ruined and he hadn’t even moved. You poor poor thing. Depriving yourself for so long of something so good. Well he was going to make sure you didn’t miss out any longer. Feeling your body ease up from underneath him, he took that as a silent signal to start moving his hips. God you felt so good around him. His length involuntarily twitched what little it could while being buried inside your warm wet walls.

“You feel just as good, babe. So warm and tight. Just the way I like it. You were made for me, baby girl.”

Your moans filled the room along with his own as you found your arms wrapping around him to gently dig your nails into his muscular back. You needed something to hold onto despite his slow and easy pace. While you appreciated him taking things slow......you had long since grown impatient. Testing the waters since you really hadn’t done much yourself, you bucked your hips at just the right time so that they collided with his own.

Yeah. That felt good.

With a soft growl of pleasure, Jungkook found himself staring heavily into your eyes as he said in a low and slightly threatening tone,

“Ooohhh. So baby girl likes it rough, does she? Well two can play at this game. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

Oh boy.....

And just like that, the male pulled out of you only for him to flip you over onto your hands and knees. All the sounds you could make were soft yelps of surprise before suddenly feeling him ram his hips into yours; successfully sheathing himself deep inside you once more. The action alone caused a loud moan to fall from your lips as you hung your head; body slightly shaking with overwhelming pleasure.

“Yes! Yes, Jungkook! Please! More!”

“Greedy little lamb! So eager for my cock. Gonna absolutely ruin you! Fuck you so good you’ll forget your own name and only remember mine!”

The room became filled with your moans along with the sounds of skin slapping against skin as Jungkook pounded into you from behind; his hands gripping your hips till he left marks. You had never been with someone who was so strong. His movements were so powerful that he was making the bed shake as well as yourself. Your moans came out shaky from how he managed to move your body with his powerful thrusts. You then felt him drape himself over your back.

He reached around you so that one hand could massage your breast and play with your nipple while his other hand slithered down to where he found your clit. It had already been a challenge for you to stay on all fours when he started ramming his hips into yours; let alone when he started feeling up your weak spots. God you had no idea you were so sensitive till Jungkook came along. It was like he already knew your body like the back of his hand.

“Jj-Ju-Jungko-oo-ok. I’m cl-cl-close!!”

“Already, baby girl? Surly you can last a little longer till I get there, hmm? Can you wait for me, beautiful?”

Normally, he could care less when his clients came. Sometimes, the sooner the better. But with you? Jungkook was just having way too much fun and you really did feel amazing. However, there was also that little nagging voice in the back of his head whining about how he didn’t want to let you leave. There was so much he wanted to ask you. Hell, he wanted to get to know you. Which he still hadn’t figured out why. Maybe you were just an easily likable person?

Your moans were even cute as you let out all your pent up sexual frustration. However, his strength must have gotten the better of you because he watched your arms finally give out from under you. Acting quickly, he used his own arms to lift you up so that you were leaning back into him; the both of you now on your knees.

With his nose buried in the crook of your neck, he began to place sloppy kisses to your heated skin while an arm wrapped around your chest; massaging your breast while that other hand went back to work on rubbing figure eights into your clit. He could feel your thighs shaking and quivering as he slowly but surely brought you to your end. He could tell you were close from the way your walls clenched around his length repeatedly.

Then you surprised him by reaching back behind the both of you to try and grab at his ass. Well well well. We’re you getting a little brave? He couldn’t help but smile against the expanse of your neck before gently biting down on the skin and sucking it gently; leaving his mark for you to remember him by tomorrow.

“Jungkook!! Please!! Please let me cum!!”

“Go for it, baby girl. Cream all over my cock. Be a good little lamb and cum for me.”

Definitely not needing to be told twice, you could feel the knot in your lower belly finally snap and your release hitting you like a tidal wave. It was so easy and natural for you to scream out his name as your body arched and shook against his own. You were so lost in your bliss that you didn’t realize he had a protective hold on you while he too found his own end; releasing into the condom. Shame you couldn’t have felt him fill you up instead.

The only sounds filling the room were the soft music coming from Jungkook’s phone along with both of your heavy breathing. You could feel his heart pounding against your back as you had to lean against him for support; thankful that he was still holding you up. However, it wasn’t long till he gently pulled himself from you entirely before easing you down onto the mattress like a real gentleman.

“Let me go dispose of this and get a wash cloth to clean you up, okay baby?”

Still floating on your cloud bliss, you simply nodded your head against the pillows while hearing him chuckle once more. You felt like dead weight but it was a good kind of feeling. Whew. How much tension had you really held inside you for all this time? You had no idea how badly you needed this. Sex with a complete stranger. Who would have thought this was how you spiced up your life and broadened your horizon.

Just as your eyes were about to close completely, you heard him come back and ask casually,

“So are you a coffee drinker?”

[when-to-sit-in-silence]

Can you make a part 2 to Joyce getting hurt in Kamchatka? Fast forward months later something romantic and angsty with Hopper and her demogorgon scars?

Read the first part here. 

Content Warning for discussions of scars and traumatic injury. 

Joyce had this hard look in her eye, a look like she was trying to shatter the mirror. Her fingers curled around the edge of the bathroom counter as she very slightly, as if to the rhythm of her breath, rocked back and forth on her toes. She’d gotten out of the shower five minutes ago, just finished brushing out her damp hair, and now, wrapped in her bathrobe, didn’t seem to notice Hopper as he stepped into the room beside her, eyes following the line between her real gaze and the one reflected back at her. 

He reached for his toothbrush and turned on the faucet. “Joyce?”

She heard him. The stoniness in her face cracking a bit, Joyce flinched. 

Hopper applied the toothpaste and stuck the brush in his mouth. A hand settled on her back. “You okay?” 

“Mm. Fine.” Joyce glanced down. So solid and severe just a moment ago, she now hovered over the sink looking sick. Her grip on the counter turned bone-white. Her lips disappeared into a thin line. She said nothing else as Hopper spent the next minute or so brushing his teeth, running his hand between her shoulder blades. 

“Something happen today?” he mumbled. Joyce leaned back as he went to spit in the sink, not letting go of the counter. She didn’t answer his question, but he figured that was as good an answer as any. She’d been quiet since she returned from work that evening, seemed checked out at dinner, which was unusual. Jonathan had commented on it, but Joyce flashed a smile and told him she was just tired. 

Nowadays, “tired” wasn’t an excuse anybody in the house believed from anybody else.

But it did shut them all up. Temporarily, at least. 

Hopper rinsed his toothbrush. “You seem like you’ve got something on your mind.” 

“It’s nothing. It’s just -” One hand released the counter and started to reach up for her face. It paused on its way there, like Joyce was worried that what she’d touch might burn her, but then her index and middle finger pressed into her brow bone. “You know.” 

“Bothering you today?” 

Her eyelids fell closed. “Somewhat.” 

Hopper slowly went to take her hand, thumb brushing up against the center of her palm. Joyce’s fingers bent away from her brow. She settled her knuckles on her cheek and sighed, head low, turned slightly away from him. 

Then she said, “Yeah.” 

“Come on.” Still holding her hand, Hopper led her from the bathroom to their bed. There was something in the way they both sank towards the mattress, careful and slow but with all their weight and all their breath, that spoke of abiding weariness through a creaky sigh. They had lumbered through the last several months as if nothing waited for them on the other side, staggering across uneven terrain that promised not to level out. They were together and that made them happy, gave them the stamina to move along at a steady pace, even as they tripped into the darkness, even as shadows fell over them like nets thrown from hidden corners, catching them tangled up within themselves. Hopper had been trapped in a maze like this before. He was trapped all over again. Though he could see Joyce, though he gripped her tired hand, he could not always see the path she stumbled along, just as she could not always see his. But they looked. And when they caught a glimpse, it was like a star bolting through the dark. 

Hopper looked at her now. He cupped the left side of her face, fingertips massaging the scalp behind her ear. Joyce leaned into his touch. She faced the lamplight. Starting at the corner of her brow and ending just shy of the the bridge of her nose was bold, discolored line, carved from the longest claw of a Demogorgan’s hand three months ago. Her left eye was clouded by the scar. Her pretty dark brown iris appeared a milky gray in this light. Joyce was almost totally blind in that eye now. A doctor had told them her vision might have been saved had they gotten to her sooner (had the eye not been slashed open several stories beneath a Russian prison in the middle of a winter wasteland), but having been there, having held her while his prison uniform was gradually drenched in the blood and fluid leaking from the fissure, Hopper hadn’t any hope for it at all. 

Joyce didn’t know how to explain it to people - that was her biggest worry when they made it home, that she couldn’t decide what to tell those too curious not to ask. Hopper said to say it was a knife. Joyce didn’t want to have to tell a whole fake story when people inevitably wanted to know more about who the hell pulled a knife on her and sliced her across the face. That was the thing about scars, is that they came with stories. Some stories are boring, like when people have their appendices removed. Some are about getting drunk and falling into a glass table. And some are like Joyce’s; they don’t want to be told. 

But when people did ask - coworkers, mostly, who’d last seen her with a perfectly unmarked face and saw her next with a bandage over her eye and stitches in her brow - she did tell them it was a knife. She didn’t know what she planned to say in the moment, but that was the sentence that left her mouth, “It was an accident. With a knife.” They wanted to know more, but she left them all with, “I don’t want to talk about it,” and nobody could really argue with that.

She didn’t like being stared at. Back in Hawkins, the appearance of Joyce Byers might elicit a few side-eyed glances from the people who knew her and a couple more from strangers still unfamiliar with her electric and restless disposition, especially in the last few years of living there. But here in California, Joyce had been invisible. That was something she was getting used to until it wasn’t possible anymore, and instead of swift glances, she got long, captivated stares. People on the street and in the grocery store and at work who couldn’t take their eyes off that shocking scar until she looked at them to make them stop. It was a scar straight out of some Hollywood film meant to make the hero or the villain look like that much more of a badass, except Joyce wasn’t six feet tall, rippling with muscle and the confidence of a machine. She was small and had grown quiet in public. The want to disappear was written all over her. 

But Hopper could never get enough of looking at Joyce. There was a time he thought he’d never see her or El or anybody else he cared for ever again. He tried to accept it. He tried to stitch that hole in his heart shut so he’d have the strength to survive everything else that prison beat into him, but then he held Joyce in his arms again, he wrapped Eleven up in his embrace like a gift, and all that pain came pouring out. He loved them so much. He’d never let go or look away if he had the choice. 

“I know,” he murmured, though it’s been a minute since she’d said anything. Joyce blinked at him, then shut her eyes, looking like all her weight was propped on the hand still resting against her face. Hopper asked again, “Did something happen today?” 

She gave a small, affirming sigh. 

“What?”

“My arm.” Joyce brushed a hand down the right sleeve of her robe. “It’s fine. Really, it’s…someone at work saw and…I mean, I’m okay. It’s okay.”

Hopper bit the inside of his cheek. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He pulled back his hand. Since returning from Kamchatka, Joyce, despite the California heat, had only worn long-sleeved shirts in public to cover up the scars that were much more challenging to lie about. She seemed to resent them less than than she resented her eye - they, at least, could be hidden - but that didn’t erase their story either. 

Joyce stood up, walking from the bedside to the hook on the bathroom door as she started to untie the knot around her waist. “A pen exploded on me today. All over my shirt,” she explained. “I ran to the bathroom and took it off to try to rinse out the ink before I was done for, but there was no saving it. It was a nice shirt too.” 

“And someone walked in?” Hopper said. 

“Yeah, my co-worker. There I am in a tank top trying to rinse this shit out, my right side is facing the door, and Kelly walks in and she goes, ‘Is it coming out?’ And then she stands there staring at me. Maybe just for a couple seconds but it felt like forever. I felt naked.”

Having hung the robe on the hook, Joyce returned to the bedside, dressed in pajama shorts and a t-shirt. She rolled up the right sleeve, and held her arm out to the lamplight, rotating it back and forth to show off the pattern of dozens of small white scars drawn into her skin with a kind of absurd mathematical perfection, like they’d been applied by a machine. Evenly spaced, equally prominent, they were not so much jarring to look at as incredibly interesting, and Hopper has not been the only person in the house to admit that they were kinda cool. Some days, Joyce thought so too. But the teeth of a Demogorgan couldn’t serve as an explanation to anybody that hasn’t met one. 

“Did she say something?” asked Hopper as Joyce sat down again. 

“I don’t think she knew what to say. I mean, what would you think? What could do this?” Joyce rolled her sleeve back down. “She could tell I was uncomfortable with her seeing it, so she just gave me this weird smile and handed me an extra shirt she had. I asked her not to mention it. Really, I don’t know what my coworkers think I’ve gotten into, if I was tortured or abused or, Lord, if I even did this to myself.” Joyce shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I worry they think something’s wrong with me.”

“Joyce,” Hopper said gently. He pulled her closer, an arm snug around her waist. “They don’t think that.”

“They have enough reason to. I’m not exactly the most right-in-the-head person working there.” 

He chuckled. “Probably not even in this house.” 

“Definitely not,” she agreed, with a smile like a firefly. She rested her face against his shoulder, peering up into his face with that one seeing eye of hers, glittering faintly with light that never died. “Do you want to know something about scars?”

“What?”

“They actually make you feel just a little less crazy. You can…see on your skin a little bit of what’s in your head.”

Hopper’s chest tightened, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He knew exactly what she meant, and she could see that, judging by the way her face changed and she went to plant a kiss on his shoulder. 

He had scars of his own. Most were invisible. Most were sounds exploding through the back of his head. Most were memories that could never stay memories. They had to keep rushing up from the past to carry him away. Miles away. An ocean away. His scars came with stories, but he couldn’t always tell the words from the real thing. He didn’t want to see them on his body. He wouldn’t be able to recognize himself anymore. 

But Joyce had scars like that too. They weren’t all carried in the lines on her skin. She and Hopper got to know about both kinds of permanent marks, whether or not they were visible, and find a way to be whole with them all. 

Hopper kissed her forehead, and then her mouth. Joyce’s fingertips caressed his stubble as she returned the gesture, her tense body relaxing against him. Hopper held her tight, held her the way he always tried to hold her, like he was never going to let go. 

“You okay?” he asked when they broke away, threading his fingers through her hair. 

“Yeah,” she answered. She almost touched her eye, and then placed her hand back on his jaw. “I’m okay, Hop.”

“I love you, you know. Every part of you. I’m here for it all.” 

She smiled affectedly and pulled him back for another kiss. Into his lips, she whispered, “I love all of you too.” 

[calmcilstoybox]

Title: Veraque

Word count: 1998 Rating: SFW  Part 1 of a vampire fic slow burn/ child hood friends to lovers.

There is a dog that gets pets

There was one thing that Perdita wasn’t expecting, and that was a call from Owen Shepard. Yet, there was his number flashing across her phone’s screen with the option to pick up.

Perdita hesitated for a second before mumbling something akin to I’ll be right back to her coworker. Then she accepted the call and walked away from the meeting room.

“Hello?” Perdita asked cautiously not sure of who was on the other end of the line.

“Hey Perri -” Owen replied, it was hard for her to hear him because of noise in the background. It sounded like he was next to a freeway.

“What the fuck Owen where are you? What happened? You’ve been missing for like a week.” Perdita interrupted cutting Owen off. She was vaguely aware of her voice becoming shriller in pitch as she spoke.

“Listen I can explain...Just when do you get off work?” Owen asked over the car horn going off in the background.

“Around five, have you called your Mom yet to let her know you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere yet?” Perdita inquired; though she had a feeling she already knew the answer.

“She didn’t pick up when I called her, I think she’s at work-wait, are you on break?” Owen said, it was easier to hear him over the phone now. But Perdita wasn’t sure if he was lying about trying to call his mom or not.

“Yeah I took a break to take your call. But where are you?” Perdita asked again, checking the time. It was a little after one in the afternoon.

“Right now I’m in a Starbucks waiting on my uber to take me home. Can you come over once you get off work so I can explain everything?” Owen’s voice had a begging tone in it now. Perdita had never heard him like this before and wasn’t comfortable saying no to him.

Not when he was like this.

“Yeah, I’ll be over…See you in a few.” Perdita said, quieting down.

“Thanks see you then.” Owen replied, hanging up before Perdita had a chance to question him further. Of which Perdita did have many questions, and not nearly enough answers.

The rest of her day went by in a blur. Perdita couldn’t even recall what she’d had to eat during her lunch break. The last week had been hard. First, Owen vanished while out walking his dog. The dog; a female golden retriever named Maverick. Had been found dragging her leash behind her by a Good Samaritan. They coaxed the dog close enough to grab the leash with a tennis ball.

That had actually been the first clue something happened to Owen. He never would have abandoned Maverick.

After Perdita clocked out she went straight to her car in the parking lot. She climbed in, locked the doors, and turned it on letting it idle. While her car was warming up, Perdiate decided to check her phone.

Have you picked up Maverick from your Mom’s yet? She took her in after you disappeared. Perdita texted Owen, she stared at the screen after she noticed the triple dot.

I brought her home.

You coming over soon?

Door’s unlocked.

After reading Owen’s texts back Perdita let him know she was on her way. She shifted gears and looked over her shoulder to make sure she didn’t hit anything as she pulled out of the parking lot. The trip to Owen’s house was uneventful. It was a quiet drive through the snow. Since, Perdita took a back road to get there to avoid traffic.

Owen’s home was a pale green two story Queen Anne. At one point it belonged to his paternal grandmother. Perdita remembered going to her funeral with him. It had white lattice trim, and a hunter green roof. To the left of the house was the driveway with a detached garage painted to match. There was a small sidewalk between the porch and the garage that wasn’t covered by the overhanging roof.

There were footprints in the snow leading up to the front porch. Perdita decided to park her car in the driveway and called Owen. She figured she should let him know she was here. Though, after four rings when he didn’t pick up she stopped the call.

The cold evening air made her lungs hurt. Perdita hurriedly went up to the door and tried it once. True to Owen’s word, it was unlocked. Perdita stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She took her shoes off and left them by the door.

It seemed the polite thing to do. Instead of dragging melting snow and whatever else was on her boots on Owen’s hardwood floors.

“Owen?” Perdita asked looking around inside. There wasn’t any sign of him from where she was standing in the foyar. After a quick glance around, Perdita decided to try the kitchen. The room was directly to her left.

Once Perdita was in the kitchen -the floors here were an ornate blue and white tile instead of hardwood. She noticed Owen standing in front of one of the counters. Perdita also noticed that the knife block was close to where she was next to the cutting board by the sink.

This was the first time she’d seen Owen since his disappearance. Something about him made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Perdita knocked on the wall closest to her to get Owen’s attention. She thought that, perhaps he hadn’t heard her before.

When Owen turned around however he had a crooked smirk on his face and his eyes were completely black.

“Perri! So glad you could make it.” Owen's voice had a harshness to it that had not been there earlier during their phone call.

Perdita backed up, she could feel the counter behind her and gripped at it with both hands.

“I-I was worried about you, I wanted to know what happened, why you left Maverick…” Her voice trailed off as Owen took a few powerful strides toward her. Despite being roughly the same height, Perdita felt like she was much smaller than him at that moment.

“I’ll tell you all about it later Perri, right now I’m famished.” Owen stared directly at Perdita as he spoke. One of his hands reached out and tilted her chin up. Perdita released her grip on the counter and one hand reached back pulling a knife from the butcher block.

Then, Perdita heard Maverick barking.

Apparently so did Owen, as he froze up. Perdita watched his eyes change back to his normal shade of hazel. The man had a confused look on his face- then fearful as he noticed the knife in Perdita’s hand.

Maverick continued barking and snarling until Owen took a full step back away from Perdita. He held his hands up almost like he was surrendering.

“Owen..?” Perdita leered at him as she whispered his name. She kept the knife- which Perdita now realized was a bread knife- in her hand. Maverick’s barking quieted down to whimpers.

Owen seemed like he didn’t know what to do with himself. He ended up tugging at his collar showing a bite wound.

“Last thing I remember is taking Maverick for her morning walk. Next thing I know, I wake up with this on me feeling like my throat’s drier than Death Valley. I had this urge to just...bite.” Owen explained letting go of his shirt. He fumbled his hands together in front of him before kneeling down to Marverick’s level. Then Owen held one out to let her sniff.

Maverick continued to whine, but licked Owen’s hand. Perdita watched the dog’s tail wag twice.

“Bite? Do you remember what you said to me when I got here?” Perdita asked, recalling how Owen had said he was famished.

“Not...that I remember no. My throat is so dry again.” Owen replied quietly thinking to himself.

Perdita finally relaxed and put the knife back in the block.

“Have you told anyone else this? Or just me?” Perdita asked, she was trying to piece together what was going on.

“I can’t tell my Mom any of this...how would that even work?” Owen groaned and ran his hands over his face.

“There was so much blood on me when I don’t think it was all mine. ...I have my clothes in the sink in the bathroom soaking to try to get the blood out. If the hydrogen peroxide doesn’t work I’m just tossing it all out.” Owen said standing back up after scratching behind Maverick’s ears. “So I’m the only one that knows..” Perdita mumbled leaning against the counter again.

“It’s stupid, but it’s like when we were kids in Mrs. Shalhoub’s class. I asked you for help all the time with schoolwork there. I thought you could help me now.” Owen looked flustered and kept his eyes on everything else in the kitchen but Perdita.

“Owen..” Perdita stood up and walked over to him putting her hand on his shoulder.

“ I don’t want this, I didn’t ask to be a monster Perri.” Owen still refused to look at her and there was a sad defeated tone to his voice.

“I don’t think you’re a monster.” Perdita gave Owen’s shoulder a squeeze. She recalled that Lucas worked at the hospital and wondered if he’d be able to help if she told him about the situation.

At the very least it was worth a shot.

Perdita let go of Owen’s shoulder and went over to the kitchen table. It was one of the circular ones, with a lace table cloth thrown over it. She noticed that the curtains by it were shut tight. She sat down, and got her phone back out and called Lucas.

“Hello?” Lucas answered on the other end of the line.

“Hey Lucas, what do they do with the blood they don’t use at the hospital?” Perdita asked, glancing at Owen. Who was sitting down across from her at the kitchen table. “It goes in the incinerator with other medical waste, why?” Lucas answered her quickly without too much thought.

“Can you bring some to me please?” Perdita begged, she could feel Owen’s eyes on her and he looked so hopeful.

“Perri…” Lucas sounded skeptical on the phone. “Lucas I will do literally anything you want me to do if you can just do this one favor for me.” Perdita pleaded with him. She couldn’t think of anything else to do.

“Anything?” Lucas inquired, Perdita could hear the smile in his voice.

“Anything.” She repeated back doing her best not to groan as Perdita thought of what Lucas would ask her to do after this.

She held her phone away from her face for a moment and mouthed, “Do you want me to tell him” to Owen. Who, to Perdita’s surprise nodded in agreement.

“It’s not just a favor for me, you’re helping Owen too.” Perdita admitted bracing herself for Lucas’ reaction.

“Owen’s alive?!” The humor was gone from Lucas’ voice. He sounded as startled as Perdita had felt when she first heard Owen’s voice on her phone earlier in the day.

“He...can explain everything. But, bring the blood with you.” Perdita said nervously, she could hear Lucas sigh.

“Give me a minute….Maybe an hour tops. Wait, where am I meeting you?” Lucas asked, Perdita could hear him getting up and she swore she heard the jingle of his keys.

“I’m at Owen’s right now.” She replied back.

“I’ll be over soon as I can.” Lucas said before hanging up. Perdita slipped her phone back into her pocket and reached her hand across the table for one of Owen’s.

“We’ll figure this out, you’re not a monster Owen.” Perdita said smiling encouragingly at him. Owen smiled back slightly and flipped his hand over so he could grasp Perdita’s fingers.

“I know it’s not fourth grade math anymore, but I’m glad you’re still there for me.” Owen confessed, seeming more relaxed now.

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Sixty-Five

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Smut...there’s, um, some butt stuff...

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

Harry lays back on the bed. You looked so beautiful in your little two piece lace outfit. He wondered why you went with a cockring. He always lasted a long time.

“So…this vibrates.” You say reading the box. You were a little nervous. You had never really used toys with a guy before.

“Is that why you got that specific kind?”

“Yeah, I thought it could be nice for the both of us.”

“Alright, well, take it out of the package, and when it’s time to use we’ll put it on.”

“You’re sure you’re okay with it?”

“Positive.”

You smile and take it out of its little box. You set it down on the night table and crawl into Harry’s lap. He sits up against the head board.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take your picture wearin’ this? You look so sexy.”

You giggle and brush your lips against his. You were still so mad about earlier, and this was how you’d let all of those feelings out. Your hand moves down to pump him while your tongue molds to his. His hands rest on the globes of your ass, which was covered in red lace. You swallow a few moans from him before you let go. You lift up slightly and his hand moves the material aside so he can trace your folds and rub your slit. You were wet, soaked really. There was so much anticipation for what was to come.

“Ready?” You ask him.

“Mhm.”

You grab the item, slip it down his base, and turn it on. You keep it on a low setting to start. He grits his teeth feeling the blood flow a little differently. His tip was turning purpler than it usually was. You bite your bottom lip, and move your panties to the side some more so you can slip down on him. You thought it would be sexier to leave the lingerie on.

“Oh my.” You gasp as you feel the vibration hit your clit.

“Is it up high enough for you? You can turn it up higher.”

“It doesn’t hurt or anything?”

“No.”

You reach down and turn it up higher. You grit your teeth and start to move up and down on him. You rest your head in the crook of his neck while he thrusts up into you. His hands press into your hips to move you back and forth. You were having sex like normal, but you were way over stimulated. You can see why Sarah and Niall would use her vibrator a lot. This really was hot, and super intimate.

“How’s it feel, babe?” He asks.

“Better than I thought. How’s it for you?”

“Good, actually.”

He moves you a little faster, your nails sink into his biceps as you feel your stomach start to tighten. You’re as close to him as you possibly can be, and the vibration from the ring was killing you. You wanted it faster.

“Can I turn it on high?” You ask him, almost with pain in your eyes.

“Go for it, whatever you need to do.” He kisses down your neck while you turn the ring on the highest setting.

“Holy shit!” You moan and sink your teeth into his neck. He continues to thrust up into you. “Fuck, Harry.”

“Gonna come?”

“I think, yeah, oh my god, oh my god!” You’re swept away off into another dimension. Your vision goes completely white. He fucks you through it, causing the ring to continue to hit against you, making your orgasm last a little longer than usual. “Oh my god.” You say into his neck.

“Babe, I’d really like to come, but I can’t with this thing on.” He was starting to sweat.

“Oh!” You get off of him and turn it off. You slip it up off him and place it back on top of the box.

You spread his legs apart, and wrap your lips around him.

“What are you, ah!” He was really sensitive.

You try not to think about tasting yourself on him while you bob your head up and down. You wanted him to feel good, really good. So good that he wouldn’t say no to what you wanted to try next. You slip off him with a pop and look up at him.

“Harry…”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t just buy the ring…there was something else I’d like to try.” He looks over at the clock on his night table. It was starting to get late.

“Tonight?” He knew exactly what it was, and he still wasn’t sure if you wanted it for yourself, or if you wanted it for him.

“Yes, tonight.” You get up and grab the butt plug from your night table. “Do you know what this is?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t look so scared, we don’t have to use it if you don’t want to.”

“I’m just not quite sure what you want to do with it.”

“I wanna stick it on your ass.”

“In my ass.”

“Certainly not mine.”

“And then what? Those things are just used so you can prep someone to be fucked in the ass.” Your mouth forms into a straight line. “Y/N, do you want to fuck me in the ass?” You swallow hard before you respond.

“Yes.”

“You’re gonna have to use your fingers first, love. You can’t just stick that thing in, even with lube.”

“Wait, so you’re actually up for it?”

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugs. “Who am I to deny you of something you’re into?”

“Well, I’ve never done this before. It’s more like an experiment I guess. I want you to be into it too.” You both look at each other. “When was the last time you went?”

“Went where?”

“To the bathroom.” You mumble.

“Oh! Um, this mornin’? Do you want me t’take a shower?”

“No, I mean people must do this all the time in the heat of the moment right? God, this is way less sexier than I wanted it to be.”

“Hey, hey.” He grabs your hand. “It’s plenty sexy still. I’m still super hard, see?” You smile and appreciate his cool exterior. “Plus, you can just slip a condom on over your fingers and put some extra lube on it, you don’t have put your bare fingers up my ass if you don’t want to.”

“So no one’s ever done this to you before?”

“Nope.” You smile at the thought of having a true first together. “But I’ve done it to others, so I can help walk you through it.” Your face falls slightly. “Don’t slip away, c’mon, s’not a secret after all.”

“I know.” You grab a condom out of the box in the side table. “So…are we not able to use the plug tonight?”

“No we should be able to…think of it like, I usually finger you or something before I just stick my dick in right? So that’s all we’re doin’ here. Do you have enough lube? We’re gonna need a lot of lube, and a towel.”

“Yeah, I made sure to buy extra. Lemme grab a spare towel.”

You go into the bathroom and grab the one you usually use when you two have period sex. He scootches over so you can lay it down. You decide to light a few candles to help relax the both of you. Make it a little more romantic.

“Aren’t you going to flip onto your stomach?”

“Don’t need to, just sit between my legs.”

“God, what if you shit into my hand.” He starts laughing, “It’s not funny!”

“I promise, I’m not gonna shit into your hand. Just put the condom over your fingers, and hand me the lube.”

You do as he says. He feels sort of gross at first just because it was slimy, but anything was better than you actually sticking your fingers up his butt. He warms up some of the lube in his own fingers reach down to coat his hole. You watch him wide eyed.

“Here, put a little extra on top.” You do as he says. “Okay, so don’t just like jam them in, it’s gonna take a minute for me to really relax, so just like, play with it at first and then ease in, okay?”

“Thank you for being so calm. I’m freaking out, and it’s not even happening to me.” You chuckle.

“No need to freak out. This’ll be fun for us.” He smiles.

He spreads his legs a little farther apart. One of your hands grips his dick, and you rub your thumb over his tip. You read somewhere that can help the guy feel even better. Your condom-covered fingers lightly graze him, just like he said to do. You swirl around about and watch him relax. You look up at him to see how he’s doing. He looks as cool as a cucumber.

He grits his teeth as you start to slowly push inside. You stroke his dick at the same time to give him something else to focus on. It felt warm around you, was this what it was like for him when he fingered you? You get your little fingers about halfway in.

“Doing okay?”

“Yeah.” He says. He was tight around you. You lean down to wrap your lips around his tip and you feel him loosen up a bit. “That’s good, now carefully bring them out, and then go back in.”

You do as he says. Slowly but surely, Harry loosens up to where you need him to be. It was so weird essentially fingering him, but it was intimate for the both of you, it was incredible. You kept occasionally kissing his tip. You weren’t trying to tease him or anything, you just wanted him to feel safe and comfortable.

“Alright, think I’m ready f’it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm, just put plenty of lube on it and put some more on me.”

You nod and do as he says. It feels cold on him at first. You slowly work it into him. When you pull it back out you add more lube. You read somewhere to do that too. You couldn’t get over the blush on his cheeks. He looked so beautiful.

“You look amazing like this, Harry.” You smile. “You’re all…flustered.”

“That’s because I know the further this thing goes in, the closer it’ll be to reachin’ my…spot.”

“I can’t wait for that, I’m gonna make you feel so good.” You continue to pump it in and out of him slowly as he holds his legs back for you. “But…baby steps.”

“Yeah, baby steps.” His teeth grit again.

“Does it feel bad?”

“No…just different.”

“Will you be sore?”

“Probably a little, but you’re bein’ real careful so it won’t be so bad.”

“I can’t believe you did all this with someone and then fucked them with your giant dick.”

“I wasn’t as nice Y/N…I did the fingers and then just went right in.” You look at him and you can fully see the regret on his face.

“Well, let’s just not think about that then.” You grip his cock and pump him slowly. His head rolls back. “Am I gonna need to buy a strap or something at some point?”

“For, ngh, for what?”

“To fuck you with.”

“We can just use the dildo you have.”

“But you need something at the base of it so your asshole doesn’t suck it up like a vacuum. That’s why this one has a t-base.”

“We’ll cross that bridge, fuck, when we come it.”

Harry’s dick was even harder than when he had the cockring on. He must be getting really stimulated.

“Does this feel good baby?”

“Yes.” He says. His body was covered in sweat. “Babe, if you just leave it in and suck my dick?”

You push it in as far as it’ll go and adjust so the base rests between his cheeks. You lean down and wrap your mouth around his tip and sink down on him. He gasps when he feels you swallow around him. He didn’t know how long he would last. Between your mouth and the plug snug in his ass he was so over stimulated he could cry. He needs to come.

He pushes your head down lower on him when an idea comes to your head. You suckle on his tip and pop off of him. A grin grows on your face.

“Baby, please, don’t tease me, I-“

“M’not teasing you.” You shimmy your soaked panties off and drop them to the floor. “I’m gonna fuck you, but I need to hold that in place.”

You shift so you’re straddling him, only he’s looking at your ass. You line him up with you and sink down him. He moans when you start to move up and down. One of your hands reaches to keep the plug where it needs to be. His hands grip your hips tightly. You rock forward and back on his dick. He felt so good. So incredibly hard and big inside you.

“You’ve been so good letting me try all these things tonight.” You say as you start to bounce up and down on him. “And you feel so fucking good Harry.”

“So, so do you.” He was full on panting. You look over your shoulder so you can see his face. He looked angelic.

“You like getting fucked, don’t you?” He looks up at you, his mouth hanging open.

“Jesus, shit, yes.” He groans. “Oh my god, Y/N, I’m gonna come.” His head rolls back against the pillow as he thrusts up into you harshly.

You gasp and moan as you feel your own release come with his. His hot come shoots up inside you. You don’t think you’v ever quite heard him moan so loudly, and it easily could have made you come again. He was out of breath, completely spent.

“You need to, you need to get that thing outta me now.” He says while trying to catch his breath.

Before getting off of him you slowly slide the plug out. Luckily there was nothing gross on it. All you had to do to clean it was throw it in some boiling water anyways. You toss it on the open space on the bed and slowly slide off his softening cock. You unhook your bra and let your breasts go free. You turn to look at him.

“Are you okay?”

“M’fine.” He reaches up to cup your cheek. “That was…cool.”

“We can do it again sometime?”

“Sure.”

“It really turned me on to see you like that.” You say shyly as you turn to kiss his palm.

“Did it now?”

“Mhm.”

“Would you, um, spoon me for a bit after get cleaned up?”

“Yes! Do you want me to run you a bath or something first?”

“No, no, I feel like I can’t move.” He chuckles. “Could you just get a rag and, like, clean me up?”

“Yes!”

You hop of the bed and use the toilet yo clean yourself up before returning with a warm rug. Harry rolls onto his stomach so you can probably wipe up all the lube that was seeping out of him. You pat him dry with the towel below him and he thanks you. You get rid of the towel and clean everything else up. You tell yourself you’ll boil the plug tomorrow.

You get into bed, and wrap yourself around him. His hand finds yours and your fingers interlock.

“So all that was okay, you feel okay?”

“Yes, love. I feel fine.” You kiss his neck soothingly.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For just being a good sport.” You move your hand for a moment to give his bum a little pat. “See, I was really pissed off earlier. How dare anyone think that they could so easily have you?”

“I know. I’m sorry about all that, again.”

“It’s okay, I’m over it. See, I own this ass now.” You say into his ear, causing a shiver to go up his spine. You move your hand back to his, and slip your leg between his gently. You kiss him on the cheek and nestle back down. “Don’t you ever forget it.” You coo.

Harry was quaking, in the best possible way. He had never felt such a rush in his life. You both had such dominant personalities, and it was rare when yours shined in the bedroom. But when it did? God, did he love it. And what you did with him tonight actually felt good. He could see the two of you doing it again. Just maybe on a weekend when you had a little more time to explore.

//

You wanted to be there when he woke up the next morning, but he looked so dead tired, you figured he could use the sleep. You put his body through a lot last night. But you wanted him to feel cared for so you made him a smoothie and stuck it in the fridge, laid out his clothes for him so he wouldn’t need to think twice about it, and gave him few pecks on the cheek before you left. You left him a note in the kitchen that breakfast was made.

When Harry did wake up he felt perfectly fine until he stood up. Nothing went that deep inside him, but he certainly felt uncomfortable. And using the bathroom wasn’t the most thrilling experience either. He saw that you picked out his clothes and it made him smile. He smiled even more when he saw the smoothie you left for him. He texted you a thank you and a kissy face. He knew he was walking around sort of funny, but he couldn't help it.

Isaac gave him a funny smile when he came in.

“Quite the night last night, huh?” Harry whips his head to look at him.

“What do yeh mean by that?”

“Just, the whole thing with Julia.”

“Oh!” Harry had almost forgotten. “Yeah…so the security tapes?”

“Gone. She’s kept to herself all morning. Only another few weeks with them here and the internship is over.”

“Thank fucking god.”

“You look exhausted, H. I did watch what happened, I couldn’t believe Y/N. She’s a bit of a firecracker.”

“You have no idea, mate.” Harry smirks. “And yeah the whole ordeal just made me tired, I’m good though.” He coughs. “I’d like to be disturbed as little as possible today if we can help it.”

“You got it.” He smiles.

“Thanks.”

//

You called Sarah on her prep period at school. You needed to tell someone what happened, and she was really the only person you could talk to.

“I’m just closing my door.” She says. “Okay spill, did he like it? All of it?”

“Yes, I think so. I think I enjoyed the ring more than he did to be honest.”

“Yeah same. Niall doesn’t really have a stamina issue.”

“Neither does Harry.” You both giggle.

“Okay, the plug, how long did he let you do it for?”

“A while actually. He had me, um, use my fingers first. He essentially walked me through the whole thing. And then I used it on him and then I rode him and he came really hard.”

“Damn…I was so timid the entire time. I had Niall shower first and then we only used it for a little while. He was…interesting to be so in control.”

“Right?! I felt so powerful. Will you use it again?”

“The deal was if he let me do it to him he could do it to me, so its’ my turn next.” She laughs. “Does Harry wanna use it on you?”

“We didn’t talk about it. I was more concerned about when I was going to be able to fuck him like that again. I mean, I wanna like really give it to him, Sarah.”

“Oh my god, that’s hot.” You both laugh. “Who knew you were so dominant? I always thought Harry had a little more of the control between the two of you.”

“Oh he definitely does. He’s got me wrapped around his finger, not that I’d ever admit that to him. But…just something about it last night. And I think lately too I’ve just felt way more confident. Ever since the photoshoot actually.”

“That’s right! You mentioned you felt empowered.”

“Yes! Plus, he always does everything he can to make me feel so good, I wanted to do the same for him. I’m not sure when we’ll do it like that again, but I think it’ll be a nice treat once in a while.”

“For sure! Listen, I gotta go, I actually have some prep work to do.” She laughs. “But let’s keep comparing notes on this stuff. It’s super helpful.”

“You got it. Talk to you soon.”

//

You couldn’t wait to get home to Harry and shower him with love and attention. You were so busy the entire day you barely had time to check in with him. He was sitting on the sofa when you got in, feet up on the coffee table. He had the sushi you both never ate last night out, and ready to go.

“Hi doll.” You say. He turns to look at you and smiles.

“Hey you.”

You come over and kiss him before sitting down next to him.

“Thought we could just have this tonight, alright?”

“Works for me.” You shrug, and pop a piece of sushi into your mouth. “How was your day?”

“Good.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Oh, I’m just fine babe.” He gives you a reassuring smile. “Little wobbly this mornin’, but I’m all good now.”

“I was sorta worried, I tried to be as gentle as possible.”

“And you were, yeh did great.” He grabs the remote and turns the TV off. “Somethin’ I wanna run by you.”

“Okay.” You turn towards him to give him your full attention.

“I think I’m ready to leave Plant Geo.”

“Oh?”

“I have a business plan all done up. Budgets, figures, all that. What I could afford for a space, if I could afford employees…”

“Okay.”

“Well, I need some help looking for studio space. I’d only need a small space, but still. I mean, and tell me if I’m crazy, but do you really think I could go into business for myself? I’m busy all the time, and people want me even in the off seasons. I could open up for little themed shoots. I just think I’m over answering to others and honestly, I’m sick of lookin’ at fuckin’ plants.”

“Harry, first of all, I’m very proud of you. Second of all, of course I think you could do it! You’re so good at what you do, you should be able to do it full time. I could even help you market yourself on social media more, we could create a real website for you, not just a Facebook page.”

“You know how to code a site?”

“Sure! We could just buy the domain name on WordPress or something and do it up. I did it a lot in college. And I’d love to help you find a space. Have you spoken with Mariah?”

“Yeah a little. I’d really like to have her as a partner, but she doesn’t have the clientele that I do…although she could build it up.”

“She could just freelance and use your studio space when she needs it, essentially rent the space from you. That’s what my mom does at the salon, she just rents her chair from the person that leases the building.”

“True. Plus I’d want Isaac to come work reception for me. He could take care of my calendar and bookings. I haven’t spoken to him about it yet though. I wanted to know if Mariah was a hundred percent…and you of course.”

“I fully support you on this! When did you wanna start looking at spaces? We should act fast don’t you think?”

“Maybe Friday after work? I have a realtor I’ve been talkin’ to a bit.”

“Definitely! What made you finally wanna do it? Did yesterday have something to do with it?”

“I’ve been thinkin’ it over for a while. And it takes time to put a business plan together. But I’m just so sick of all the drama. All I want to do is have fun and take pictures, that’s it. I don’t need any of the other bullshit, and I think last night just made me realize it was time to rip the band aid.”

“I really am so proud of you. I wanna help as much as I can.”

“It won’t stress you out with your classes and everything?”

“I’m almost done with the one I’m in now, and my next one won’t start until June so I’ll have a whole month off. Plus this is the fun stuff, it won’t even feel like stress.”

“A real website does sound like a good idea.”

“I think once we find a space you like we should have Isaac and Mariah over for a proper proposal. I mean, you’re asking two benefited people to leave their jobs.”

“Exactly. I wouldn’t be able to provide them much…”

“Maybe not right at the start, but once the business grows you could. And we’re in Massachusetts, state insurance isn't that expensive anyways since it’s required.”

“True.”

“Plus, some day when we get married you can just come onto my insurance.” You shrug. “We have great benefits.”

Harry tackles you down on the sofa, making you giggle, and covers your face with kisses. You really wanted to be with him forever the way he wanted to be with you. He was so happy he could cry.

“Are you crying?” You ask, looking up at him.

“You just…make me so happy.” He kisses you on the lips. It’s soft and tender and it was all you needed. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Harry.” You kiss him again. “You’re starting a business!”

“I’m startin’ a business!”

[thatjustmakesyouabetacuck]

Vignettes from The Department of Emergency Services

Jordan’s shoulders slumped when he heard a knock on the door. A familiar voice asked, “Hey, this is the proctologist’s office, right?”

“Fuck off.”

“Oh, thank Christ. I was starting to wonder what a guy had to do, to who, to get a finger up his ass around here.” Ben LaVoie strode into the room, lab coat slung over his shoulder, and leaned against the edge of the desk with his hands in his pockets. He took the room in, cramped and cluttered with papers and binders though it was, and whistled. “Look at you with your big important office. I see you and Desai have the same flair for interior decorating, eh?”

He grabbed a box of surgical gloves off a nearby shelf and nudged Jordan with it. 

Jordan shrugged him off and ran a hand over his face. He groused, “I’ve had the job a day and I’m already fucking sick of the paperwork. You know chief residents set the schedules? I’ve had second years popping in all night, bugging me about some ‘can I get the weekend off’ shit.”

“Oof.”

“If I’m giving anybody the weekend off, it’s gonna be me. I’ll need it more than they will. People are already calling in favours, ‘Oh, remember six months back when I covered for you on-’”

“Disgusting,” Ben glanced down at the sheet Jordan had in front of him. “Exploiting generosity and personal connection for the sake of base, selfish… What the fuck? You’ve got me doing a thirty-six next week?”

“Johnson needed friday off. I needed somebody trustworthy covering for him, and you’re slightly less of a moron than the rest of our peers, so you’re it.”

“Fuck Johnson. I’m a newlywed. I wanna go home and hang out with my wife.”

“He’s going to his uncle’s funeral.”

Ben rolled his eyes skyward. He grumbled, “Oh fine. Fuck, osti de cris de tabarnak, certains putains de gens ont une excuse pour– Fine. Okay. I’ll work the overnight.”

Jordan clucked his tongue patronizingly. “Aw, aren’t you just an angel? If they don’t drown me in requests, I’ll get on nominating you for that Nobel Peace Prize.”

“...I liked you better before you were my boss.”

***

“What’d you do to my car?”

That had been the story of Rocky Kolar’s afternoon - Officer Castle had been circling around the Ford Vic, questioning him on every chip in the paint and dent on the bumper. His specialty was fixing emergency vehicles, and that vocation took him all around the city and introduced him to all different sorts. And of those sorts, Castle was amongst his least favorite.

“I did exactly what I’m paid to do: I fixed it.”

It seemed like Castle fucked up his squad car some way or other every other month, and Rocky always ended up being the one to fix it. And then every time he did, Castle insisted on inspecting every inch of it, and critiquing the ways in which Rocky had fallen short of the standard of service that was expected.

But the fact was, Rocky hadn’t been paid to repaint it, or buff out dents. The brakes needed work, so he’d worked on the brakes. The stain was the first thing he’d found that hadn’t been there when he’d dropped it off.

“You messed with it some way. I can just feel it.” Castle shouldered past him. “Pop the hood again.”

Rocky obliged him. Castle stuck his head inside, grumbling to himself as he looked around. It took another couple minutes before he found his next objection; “And what do you call this?”

Rocky circled around him. “What do I call what?”

Castle whacked at a metal circle behind the grill with the wrench he’d picked up. “This fucking thing.”

“...What do you think it is?”

Castle straightened up and looked directly at him. “I think you’re just the kind of crazy redneck fuck that would try and kill a cop for bragging rights.”

Rocky didn’t budge. “That a formal accusation, officer?”

Castle braced his hands against the sides of the car. “Not if you tell me what this thing is.”

“Show me again.”

Rocky waited for Castle to lean back in, then reached through the driver’s side window and slapped down on the car horn. It blared out loud enough that Castle jumped, and hit his head on the hood. 

“Satisfied?”

“GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING COCKSUCKING SON OF A B-!”

Castle was hopping around the room, his hands over his ears, cursing at the top of his lungs. “YOU’RE A FUCKING DEAD MAN WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKING HICK PIECE OF SHIT!”

Rocky didn’t even flinch. He just stood and watched the officer kick over an empty can, his arms folded over his chest, trying to fight off a shit-eating grin. “You asked what it did.”

***

Thwack.

Thump.

Thwack.

Thump.

Thwack.

Thump.

For Ruy Narvaez, the novelty of sliding down a pole in his underpants to go use the bathroom when he was doing overnights at the firehouse hadn’t quite worn off yet. He’d been there for over a year now, but he still always got a kick out of it.

Thwack.

Thump.

Thwack.

Thump.

He’d went to go take a piss, then he’d made himself a sandwich in the kitchenette. From there, he could see a small group gathered around the pool table while Rafe and Eric viciously rallied the ball back and forth.

Thwack.

Thump.

Thwack.

Thump.

Ruy wrapped up his sandwich, came closer, and vaulted over the back of the couch. He landed next to Lieutenant Brennan and settled in. “How long have they been playing for, boss?”

Thwack.

Thump.

Thwack.

“Rally’s been going for seven minutes straight.” Brennan grabbed for half of the sandwich, but Ruy twisted away. “I bet AJ it’d go the full ten.”

Ruy snorted, his mouth full of sandwich. “Nuwer.”

“What?”

Ruy swallowed. “No way. Somebody’s arm’s gonna get tired.”

“You looking to get in on the action, probie?”

“Okay. Five bucks on nine minutes.”

Thump.

Thwack.

Thump.

“Five bucks? C’mon now. Go big or go home.”

“Five’s big enough.”

Thwack.

Thump.

“What about you, Secord? You got some thoughts?”

Thwack.

Thump.

Josh was sitting upside down in an armchair. Legs dangling over the back and his hands on his stomach. He shook his head. “I’m set.”

Thwack.

Thump.

“What about you, cap?”

Theo was leaning against a column, thumbing through a magazine. “Fuck it. Twenty bucks on eight minu-”

Ross glanced down at his phone. “We’re at eight.”

“...I mean, twenty bucks on nine and a half minutes.”

“I heard eight.”

“You heard wrong, lieutenant. Nine and a half.”

Suddenly, with a flourish, Rafe smashed the ball with his paddle and sent it driving into the corner of the table. Eric’s paddle skimmed just over it, and the ball bounced harmlessly against the floor. Eric threw it down in disgust, and Rafe raised his hands in the air. “I AM THE FUCKING PING-PONG GOD!”

Ross groaned. “Come on! I believed in you guys.”

“Fuck you,” Eric laughed. “Lucky shot.”

“The ping-pong God makes his own luck.”

“The ping-pong God’s about to get a fucking paddle upside the head.”

Rafe whirled around to face his assembled coworkers. “Who said ten minutes?” His hands were on his hips. “Show of hands, who thought it’d even take me ten minutes to put this sorry motherfucker away?”

Eric protested, “Hey, you gonna keep talking or we gonna finish our set?”

“Who won? Because by my count, they just won like fifty bucks.” Rafe rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Way I’m feeling, I might get that bill laminated, so they can frame it and pray to it when they think they can’t beat the odds.”

Eric slapped his hands down on the table, “Are we finishing the game?”

“I’m hard as fuck right now,” Rafe laughed. “I can’t even focus. I’m feeling myself too much right now. I’m gonna go grab a slice of cake and celebrate.” He stepped up onto the couch, reached down, and snatched away the half of Ruy’s sandwich that he’d already taken a bite out of.

“Hey!”

Rafe hopped over the back, and waved the sandwich in the air. “Fuck you, probie! To the victor goes the spoils!”

Ruy jumped up. “Give me back my sandwich!”

“Ifishyursammich,” Rafe managed, around a big bite of it. “Whymiedinit?”

Ruy stalked after him, as the others laughed. “Dude, this isn’t funny! Give me back my sandwich!”

[scaryscarecrows]

Welcome to Gotham

AN: Like, Gothamites are hardcore, but the transplants are understandably gonna go, ‘WHAT’. Either they adapt or they don’t, and I wanted to see about one that didn’t.

* * *

Nicole’s never had a gun to her head before. She’s only lived in Gotham for a year, worked for Oswald Cobblepot for four months. She’s a college kid, she’s never-she never thought--

“We’re gonna walk outta here,” the man’s saying. “Any of you assholes try ta follow, and blam-blam.”

She’d frozen. They’d told everyone to get down and she’d stiffened up, she hadn’t meant to…

“Leave the kid alone,” a voice snaps from behind the bar. “Mister Cobblepot’s already gonna be on your ass, don’t get kidnapping charges thrown in there.”

Dove’s nice. Well. Usually. Nicole’s pretty sure she helped bury a body or two, but she’s nice, keeps the creeps off the servers. Won’t let Nicole anywhere near that back room, where Cobblepot sees...special people. Doctors, clowns, a weird green guy. That sort of thing.

“Shut up, lady.”

“Just sayin’. You go now, you get slapped with robbery and property damage. You take her, it gets ugly.”

The man shifts, turns the gun to Dove instead.

“Shut your fuckng mouth--”

CRA-ASH!

“Shit--”

CRUNCH.

Nicole feels the man behind her fold like an accordion, hears the crunching of his collarbones under heavy boots. Her first thought is that it’s Gotham’s local cryptid, but the gloved hand thrusting her out of the way goes under a leather jacket, and when she crawls under a table and peeks out, there’s no cape.

She’s heard whispers about this one. He’s new, and more dangerous than Batman’s ever been. The Bat, according to her coworkers, will break your arm and hang you off a gargoyle. The Red Hood will shoot you or worse.

He’s not shooting now. He doesn’t have to; somebody’s rushed him, screaming, only for him to step aside and catch the guy by the back of the neck to slam his head into a table. And then he’s moving, climbing up the man with the machine gun to cut the cord holding the lamp above him. The lamp comes down on the guy’s head, but Hood’s already onto the next one, kicking him in the chest to send him over the little railing and onto the dance floor below.

“Get that son of a bitch!”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Hood cartwheels-and cartwheels look utterly awful on a man his size-out of the way of bullets. Nicole huddles further back under the table until her ass is pressed against the bench. “Or are you just bad at wordplay?”

Scary the cartwheels might have been, but they brought him right up to the guy. Before Nicole can blink, Hood’s flung himself...into the man’s arms...and then they’re both going down. There’s a horrible crunching noise.

Somebody else-last one?-has gotten bold enough to get close. He doesn’t have a gun, not that Nicole can see, but he’s got a big butcher knife.

“Gonna carve my name in your face, bitch,” he spits. Hood goes very, very still.

“S’that so,” he says, no glee in his voice. No banter follows. “Been there, done that.”

What?

BLAM!

Silence. That’s what follows the gunshot. Then the knife hits the carpet, and then the man. He doesn’t. He doesn’t have a head any more he doesn’t have a head any more HE DOESN’T HAVE A HEAD ANY MORE--

She pukes. It’s just bile, because she hasn’t eaten much today, but it gets all over her because she’s still huddled under the table.

Hood’s still here. He hasn’t moved other than to lower his gun, but he’s breathing heavy. A few seconds pass before he turns his head towards the bar.

“Sorry ‘bout the mess.”

“Think I’ll take the mess over the alternative,” Dove says dryly. “Thanks, Hood.”

And then he’s gone, back through the ruined skylight. Nicole hiccups, tasting acidic mucus from puke and tears, and tries not to look at the. At. At him.

“Okay, sweetheart, come on outta there…”

Dove’s suddenly crouched down. Doesn’t she see? The blood’s seeping into the carpet and it smells and one wrong step’ll be into bone shards and--

“Come on. We gotta clear out so the cops can get a cleanup crew in here.”

But…

“Come on, honey...let’s at least getcha into clean clothes, okay?”

She crawls out. Now that she can see everything, it’s. It’s bad. The man who had the gun on her is broken, and the guy that went over the railing landed on his head and there’s blood a-and---

“Come on. Bathroom--Charlie, f’the cops get here, I’m just getting the kid cleaned up, okay?”

“You got it.”

The bathroom is clean. It’s white and there’s mild elevator music playing in it. Dove parks her at the sink and turns the water on, yanks a handful of towels out of the dispenser.

“Breathe in...okay...this your first vigilante run-in?”

First vigilante, first hostage situation, first death…

She just nods, stomach churning, and blubbers out, “What the hell?”

“You get used to it.”

“He killed him.” And she’s crying again and man, this is inappropriate but her family’s five hundred miles away and-- “I-I know he was gonna kill me but he just shot him like it was nothing and now his brains are in the carpet--”

“Sh-sh-sh.” A wet towel dabs at her face. “I know. Hood...Hood’s methods are a little rough. But he won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“We work for Penguin!” she manages to spit out. “He’s a crime lord! And I’m just trying to get through college but what if he doesn’t know that or--”

Dove starts laughing. It’s not hysterical, or mean, it’s just a little incredulous.

“He won’t hurt you, honey. Trust me. I’m gonna get you some clean clothes out of the locker, okay? If you wanna get out of those and...pat down or whatever, you go ahead.”

She leaves. Nicole gulps, tastes more yellow, and sticks her head under the faucet to rinse her mouth out. She doesn’t wanna go back out there to. To see anything, or have to talk to the police. She wants to go home, back to Ohio where they don’t have masked weirdoes and where you don’t have to get used to somebody pulling a gun on you or to seeing dead bodies or anything like that.

One more year of college. Just one more year.

God, that can’t come soon enough.

THE END

[bellakitse]

Sealed with a Kiss

Carlos is in the middle of finishing the last of his daily reports when the first text comes in, followed quickly by a second.

‘What time are you coming home, baby?’

‘I miss you.’

'I’m waiting in bed…for you.’

*

TK is a menace, Carlos loves him anyway.

30 days of Tarlos - Day 25

E

Carlos is in the middle of finishing the last of his daily reports when the first text comes in, followed quickly by a second.

‘What time are you coming home, baby?’

‘I miss you.’

He smiles as he looks down at his phone, feeling a wave of affection at his boyfriend’s text. They haven’t been able to spend much time with each other in over a week. TK had been on a three-day, 24-hours schedule while Carlos had been stuck with evenings. The most time they had spent together in the last seven days was Carlos stopping by the firehouse for a quick dinner with TK and the rest of the 126.

‘I’m almost done at the station, do you want me to pick you up?’ He texts back.

He’s waiting for TK’s answer, watching the writing bubbles appear on the corner when two of his coworkers walk up to his desk.

“Reyes, do you want to go get a drink after work?” Martin asks, pointing at himself and then over to Cooper. “A couple of us are going to check out that place on Elm.”

“Oh, thanks, guys,” Carlos starts, an apologetic smile already on his face before he even begins to turn down his friends. “But TK – “ he pauses mid excuse as his phone buzzes again.

‘I’m already at your place.’

‘I used my key.’

Carlos smiles again as he reads his texts. He’d given TK a key to his place a little over a month ago over dinner, nervous and excited about the next step in their relationship. He pulls up the keyboard to shoot TK a quick ‘Okay, I’ll see you soon’ when more texts come through in rapid succession.

‘I took a shower.’

‘Made myself extra clean.’

‘Now I’m waiting in bed…for you.’

Carlos swallows hard as he gets TK’s meaning; he feels himself go red in the face and tight in the pants as he pictures TK first in the shower washing himself and then in his bed.

‘I’m so hard, baby.’ TK continues with his next text, obviously trying to kill him.

‘See?’

Carlos holds his breath in anticipation as he sees the writing bubbles again, he knows he shouldn’t be surprised when the picture comes through, but he still lets out a small gasp when he sees his boyfriend’s beautiful body. It doesn’t show his face, just his defined and hard-earned abs, his white t-shirt pulled up to show them off, while his hard cock is outlined under a pair of grey boxer-briefs.

It makes Carlos’ mouth water with how badly he wants to suck at the material until it’s soaked before peeling them back to get his mouth on one of his favorite parts of TK.

“Holy shit! Are you sexting, Reyes?” Martin exclaims as he looks over his shoulder down at his phone.

Carlos startles in his chair, having forgotten all about his coworkers waiting for him to answer them about drinks.

“Damn, Reyes,” Martin whistles low, still looking at his phone even as Carlos closes it quickly, his face red and hot. “I’m straight as hell but hot damn. Who knew you had it in you.”

“It’s always the quiet ones,” Cooper smirks in his direction as Martin laughs.

“Get it, man,” he says with a grin, holding out his fist. “He’s hot.”

“I’m not fist-bumping you like we’re frat bros,” Carlos says, looking at the hand with disdain, it makes his friends laugh even harder.

“Stick in the mud,” Martin says, rolling his eyes at him. “Well, I guess that picture answers the going out for drinks question, have fun getting laid, Reyes.”

“I’m sure he will,” Cooper teases, amused as he and Martin turn to leave.

Carlos watches them walk away with dread; he has a feeling he’ll be teased for this for months to come.

His phone buzzes again, and he’s almost afraid to look, he’s not sure he won’t spontaneously combust if it’s another picture. The threat of dying from lust still only stops him for less than a second, and he opens his phone with anticipation at what his menace of a boyfriend has sent him now.

‘I got the lube out.’

‘Feeling really empty without you here.’

‘Guess my fingers will have to do until you get here.’

“Fucking hell,” he swears low, his boyfriend isn’t just a menace but the devil.

‘I hope I don’t finish before you get home, that would be a waste.’

Carlos swears again as he shuts off his computer and puts his files away in his locked cabinet before he’s rushing out the bullpen. As he heads for the door, he catches the eyes of Cooper and Martin as they talk to a few of their other coworkers, when they notice him, they all flash him knowing grins. Some even give him a few thumbs up.

He shakes his head, willing his face not to turn red.

Yeah, this is going to follow him for a while.

Dialing TK’s number, he heads for his car, his body practically vibrating from how much he wants to get home to his boyfriend.

“Hello,” TK all but purrs when he picks up the phone.

“I should throw you over my knee, Tyler Kennedy,” he hisses as he gets behind the wheel, dueling emotions of wanting to fuck TK and wring his neck, duking it out inside him.

“Oh, I could get into that baby,” TK whispers hotly, shameless as always.

Carlos rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the smile that is tugging on his lips at his boyfriend’s antics, to love TK is to love his madness. “My straight coworker saw the picture you sent me,” he tells him, smirking as TK goes quiet. “I think he might be questioning himself now.”

TK is silent for a moment before letting out a chuckle. “Okay,” he starts, sounding incredibly pleased. “That’s hilarious.”

“You’re such a troublemaker, baby,” Carlos says fondly as he comes to a stop at the light. He’s less than five minutes away from his apartment.

“You love it,” TK teases.

“I love you,” Carlos answers back quickly, loving the way it makes TK’s breath catch.

“Tell me you’re almost home,” TK pleads, his voice low and needy, it makes Carlos’ stomach clench and his dick throb. “I need you.”

“Four more minutes, baby,” Carlos promises, feeling just as hungry.

“Good,” TK gets out, breathless, a soft moan follows. “Because my fingers aren’t enough, Carlos.”

“Fuck,” Carlos groans, listening to TK, he pictures him on his bed, legs spread as he fucks himself with his fingers. It makes him go rock hard. “How many?”

“Just two,” TK whispers. “I want to be ready for you, but I also want to feel the burn when you fuck me open with your cock.”

Carlos bites down on his lip hard; it only muffles his groan. “I’m turning into the street now; I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Good,” TK sighs. “I’ll be waiting,” he gets out over another moan that lets Carlos know he’s found that spot that makes him sees stars.

He hangs up the call; if he listens to TK any longer, he’s going to come in his uniform. He does a half-assed job of parking before he’s out the door and in his apartment. Not going straight to the bedroom is a feat, but he forces himself to first go to the hallway closet and put his gun away in the safe. He somehow finds even more strength and heads for the bathroom to remove his uniform and wash up quickly, clenching his jaw as he ignores the soft sighs and moans he hears from the bedroom.

Finally, when he’s naked and ready, he heads for his room, taking a deep breath before he opens the door, only to choke on air at what he finds.

Reading his boyfriend’s texts and hearing him over the phone doesn’t prepare him enough for TK, the love of his life on his bed, on his stomach, with his ass in the air waiting for him.

“Fuck,” he gets out, his mouth completely dry as he takes in all the beautiful naked skin.

TK chuckles low. “That’s the idea,” he gets out, his voice muffled from where he has his face pressed into a pillow. Proving that he is indeed out to kill him, he reaches back to spread himself for Carlos. “So, if you would get a move on, I would appreciate it.”

Carlos starts to walk over to the bed, he stumbles slightly from how lightheaded he feels, all the blood in his head rushing south. He gets to the bed, kneeling on it between TK’s legs. Reaching out, he touches the back of his thighs, running his hands up slowly. It makes TK push his ass closer to his face, his hands holding himself open.

“You’re such a tease, baby,” he tries to scold TK, but it comes out fond. TK opens his mouth to answer, but Carlos doesn’t give him a chance. Instead, he touches his hole, sinking his fingers in deep when he feels how slick and open TK has made himself.

“Carlos – “ TK gasps out, pushing back into his fingers.

“You did get yourself nice and wet,” he comments casually as he pulls his fingers out just to push them back in, smiling when TK lets out a whimpering sound, and his thighs shake. He chuckles as he spots a condom and a bottle of lube next to him. “So prepared,” he teases as he pulls his hand away again to grab what he needs. He pumps himself a few times before rolling on the condom and slicking himself up.

Shifting over TK, he grabs at his hips and presses down on the small of his back to push him further into the mattress, making sure he’s bent just how he wants him. Taking hold of himself, he runs his cock slowly up and down TK’s crack before slapping it against his opening twice.

TK jumps before making another sound; he can see how ready he is by the hard lines of his body and the way he grips the sheets underneath his hands.

“You want it?” he asks as he nudges at his hole with the head of his cock.

“Yes,” TK gets out, his voice rough.

“You sure?” Carlos asks again. It’s his turn to tease.

“Yes,” TK says again, frustrated and pleading, a little bratty the way he gets sometimes, it makes Carlos grin.

He pushes the tip of his cock inside TK and stops, closing his eyes at the blissful sensation of TK’s clutch-hold on him.

“Carlos, move!” TK shouts at him when he realizes that he’s not going to.

“If you want it, come and get it, baby,” he answers softly as he runs his hands over the curve of TK’s ass. “Push back.”

TK doesn’t need to be told twice; he pushes back until his ass is pressed against Carlos, and they’re both moaning at the feel of it. It doesn’t matter how many times they do this, Carlos will never get over the tight perfect hold of TK’s body.

“Fuck, baby,” Carlos groans as TK grinds against him, taking him in as deep as he can. “You feel so good,” he continues when TK doesn’t seem to be able to answer him, he’s too busy panting as he moves forward just to sink back into Carlos’ cock.

“Tight and perfect,” he tells him as he grabs his hips again, meeting TK half-way when he pushes back once more.

“For you,” TK whispers, dragging a low moan out of him when he clenches around him.

Carlos pushes TK deeper into the bed, moving to cover him with his body, surrounding him from all sides.

“I love you, baby,” he whispers against the back of his neck, pressing his face into it as he snaps his hips forward harder and faster. The next few minutes is a race for the finish line as they fuck each other hard and frantic.

“Carlos, I – “ TK says desperately; he turns his face enough that Carlos can get to his mouth. He gives him a hard, biting kiss, dragging out another groan from TK.

“You close, baby?” he asks against his mouth, getting a quick nod from TK as he grinds his ass against Carlos’ dick, pulling him in deeper. “Then come, sweetheart, come on my cock.”

TK moans out low, and he feels his words have the desired effect as TK’s body goes tense for a moment before he starts to shake from his release, his hole spasming around Carlos beautifully before he’s dropping on the bed boneless.

Carlos hikes up his hips, thrusting into him at a bruising pace, chasing after his own orgasm, his stomach clenching when a tired TK pushes back again to help him. He goes over the edge a few minutes later, coming so hard he sees spots in front of his eyes.

He drops hard next to TK, arms over his eyes, and panting as he tries to catch his breath.

“I think you fucked me blind,” he says when he opens his eyes to see TK beaming at him proudly.

“I was thinking about this all shift,” TK tells him, shifting closer, his face inches away from his. “I had to get off at the firehouse thinking about it.”

Carlos feels his dick twitch at TK’s words.

“Menace,” he hisses at his boyfriend, love, and lust swirling inside him at the grin he gets in return.

“You love it,” TK teases again, and just like earlier Carlos answers honestly.

“I love you,” he says softly, his heart fluttering at the way TK softens.

“I love you too, baby,” he whispers gently, brushing his lips across Carlos’. “Always.”

[non-stop-imagines]

Baby Daddy Stark (Part 6)

Here's Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Pairing: Tony Stark x Black!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: As you guys can see, I'm on a bit of a writing rampage. After writing that Bucky piece last night it felt right to go and update one of my series. It feels good writing again especially after the weird depression moment I had when it was official that all of my classes for the rest of the semester were gonna be online. I would also like to just thank everyone that have been so supportive as I begin to write again and even through my hiatus and hopefully I can get much more writing done. But any way, here's part 6! Hope you all like it! Love you all!!!💛💖💛💖💛💖

Warnings: Some mention of throwing up, Some curse words, Reader being mama bear, Tony on the come up as a dad, Travis develops a little crush, I'm telling y'all right now this is 99.9% fluff

UNIVERSAL TAGS LIST: @beautifulwisdom2001 @iamzion-therealhabesha @thottio @jetaimeamore @shakzer00 @mixedfandxms @here-for-your-bullshit

Baby Daddy Stark Tags List: @blackreaders-assemble @blueoz @mixedfandxms @walawalaboom

Masterlist

_____

It's been about 2 weeks since Travis' tournament and since then the calls from Tony have become more frequent and lengthy. He would call every other day at around 7 at night because he knew you got home at about 6:30 every day and liked that half an hour to come down from whatever mood that work had you in but it's not too late so he has more than enough time to sit and talk with Travis until his bedtime. Even though you didn’t want to admit it, Tony was really making an effort to be more present, and it confused you. Why would a man in his prime put so much effort into being in the life of a son he just found out he had? Your thoughts were broken when the timely sound of your ringtone came through.

“IS THAT TONY?!” You hear Travis yell from his room. A large smile grew on your face once you heard his excitement.

“Yes, but you can’t talk to him until your done with homework!” You yell back from the kitchen, then answer the phone. “Hey Tony. How was your day?” You put the phone on speaker and place it on the counter so you can wash your hands to start dinner.

“Fine, I’m actually getting ready to come upstate tomorrow. How was your day?” Your smile dims to something like a dreamy grin, more than likely matching the smile on his face at the moment.

“Great, I have a presentation for a new surgical robot that I’ve been working on for years. Since Travis was, wow, seven?” You grab the package of defrosted chicken that sat on the counter, grinning at the satisfaction of being able to tell your child to put the chicken in the sink to defrost it before you got home, something you don't think you’ll ever get tired of.

“What is this innovation that I’m going to be seeing in hospitals worldwide someday?” His smile travels through the phone, causing you to have to fight an even larger smile from your face as you finish cleaning the chicken, preparing to season it.

“Well…” You continue on into a long explanation about your innovation that makes brain surgery 15% safer which, in the world of neurology, is an immense difference. Once you got to the point where you were basically giving the exact presentation you were going to give the next day, Travis came into the kitchen looking slightly exhausted.

“Homework done, I am ready to talk to Tony.” His words came out as a sigh, eyes hooded with a hoodie on in the 78 degrees house.

“Okay.” You turn to the phone. “Hey, Tony, here’s Travis.” You go to hand him the phone but stop mid-transfer. “Baby, you look sick. And you feel warm.” You retract your hand from Travis’s forehead and hand him your phone.

“Eh, I’ll be fine. I have a test tomorrow, so I can’t stay home but-” His words come out as a groan before your attempted to say something he is obviously used to. “I know, I know. I’ll go to the nurse if I’m not feeling good.” A sad and somewhat pain smile flashes across his face before you fluffed his hair and sent him off. “Dinner will be ready in a bit. You’re going to eat, take some medicine and go to bed, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.” He smiles back at you from the couch then goes to talk to Tony. You smile when you hear a faint ”Hey, kiddo!” then turn back to the stove to finish cooking.

_____

“Y/N, you ready for today? I know how hard you’ve been working on it.” Your coworker, Kate, pops her head into your office then steps in. Her smile has always been calming for you from your first day there. Her heels click across the floor as she makes her way to the seat in front of your desk. “So, how do you feel?”

“Ahhh, excited. Nervous as hell. And it doesn’t help that I’m just waiting to get a call from the nurse at Travis’s school which would only further postpone the presentation and would do just short of killing me.” You twist a coil of your low pulled back hair around your finger.

“And the, uh, Tony Stark thing?” She leans close and whispers to you, allowing some light brown hair that didn't make it into her bun fall in front of her glasses. Other than Naomi, Kate is the only other person who knows about Tony.

“It's going surprisingly well.” You lean in toward your computer monitor, looking closely at an email before quickly answering it. “He calls… gosh, everyday at a perfect time. Talks to me and Travis-" You stop midway through your gushing, realizing the feeling you get when you even just think about Tony. You love feeling so happy, comfortable and open with another person but it's not just you in this new relationship. Your son is there too, probably just as enamored by the feeling of having his father, having THE Tony Stark as his father. Whenever these thoughts flood through your mind you can't help but think about the hurt that could happen if something-

"Uh, Y/N… your cell." You break from your slowly darkening thoughts and look at your phone. Seeing the somewhat familiar number of Travis's school. You quickly answer it, apologizing to Kate for answering the phone during your conversation to which she hastily dismisses it with a smile, leaving you alone in your office.

"Hello, Ms. Y/L/N? This is Mrs. Johnson, the nurse at North Albany Middle School." Your heart drops. You knew you shouldn't have let him go to school.

"Hello, how are you doing today?" You try hard to continue the conversation as normal as possible.

"I'm doing fine, thank you. I'm calling because I have Travis in here with a fever and just a couple of minutes ago he threw up. I believe it would be the best to have you or an emergency contact come pick him up and take him home." As you were about to answer, you receive a text from Tony.

Tony:

Hey, just wanted to let you know that I just got to the Upstate Compound. Hoping to see you and Trav tonight 😊

"Umm, hold on one secondd… I just have to send this text real quick." You quickly type out a text to Tony.

About how far away from North Albany mid school?? Travis isn't feeling well and I want him to get somewhere and rest as soon as possible and I'm an hour and a half away, not including any possible traffic. Could you pick him up?

Barely ten seconds later you receive a response and sight in relief.

Tony:

Only 25 min. Of course I'll pick him up.

"Hi, I'm so sorry I left you waiting. I'm actually quite far from the school but his uh… dad is just under a half an hour away so he'll come and pick up Travis. I'll give you his contact information so you can get in touch with him. His name is Tony… uh just Tony." You look at the clock on your desktop. Five minutes until your presentation. If you're late, you're late and they're just gonna have to wait.

"Uh, Ms. Y/L/N, I'm gonna need a last name." The nurse giggles her response, slightly confused. You sigh and whisper into the phone.

"Tony Stark. Please keep this private. And his phone number is…" Once you give the phone number you thank her for calling. Then hang up. You quickly gather your things needed for your presentation and head out your office quickly going to and tapping on Travis's contact in your phone. One ring. Two rings.

"Hi, mama." He groans into his phone.

"Hey, baby boy. How are you doing?" You continuously press on the elevator button, quickly hopping in when the doors open and then swiftly removing your heels.

"My stomach feels a bit better but my head and throat are killing me. Mrs. Johnson gave me some apple juice and saltines to eat while I wait for you to pick me up." The elevator dings on the floor you need and you high tail it out of the elevator.

"Actually, Tony is already upstate and much closer than I am, so he's gonna pick you up. He'll be there in about 20 minutes and then once I'm done I'm gonna come up the Compound to pick you up and take you home, okay?" After a couple of minutes of walking down a long straight hallway, you get to the meeting room, smiling at Kate, who was doing an amazing job at stalling for you, through the large glass wall.

"Oh, okay." You can hear the small smile grow on his face. "Also, I lasted through my test in math. I think I did alright, considering that right after I turned in my test I ran to the bathroom to throw up." He chuckles then groans at what you assume to be irritation of his throat and pain in his head.

"Alright baby, I'm gonna go into my meeting now. Try and take a nap while you wait, and call me or text me if you need anything. Okay? Love you." You finish pulling on your heels and smooth out your skirt in the reflection produced by the dark windows of the empty meeting room next door.

"Okay, love you too." You give him a kiss through the phone and after receiving one from him, you two share one last goodbye and you wait for him to hang up before heading into the meeting room to give the best presentation of your life.

_____

"North Albany, North Albany…" Tony recites to himself as he drives his large SUV down the street the school is presumably on, when out of nowhere he hears the voice of what sounds like a GPS come from the very back row telling him in 1000ft his destination is in the right, almost giving him a heart attack.

"Crap, crap, crap!" He hears an all too familiar voice in a frantic panic as tussling and tapping on a phone screen comes from the back.

"Pete, what the actual fuck are you doing in the back of my car? Aren't you supposed to be in school or something?" Tony takes peeks into his rear view mirror watching as Peter slowly sits up from his previously laying position.

"We had early release today and I told Aunt May that you were heading upstate and may have made it sound like you invited me so I jumped into your car as quick as possible." By the time Peter was done rambling, Tony was already parked in a visitors parking space, look at Peter over his dark sunglasses.

"Get in the passenger seat, Parker. I'll be right back." He sighs, then gets out the SUV, leaving the keys in the transmission. "Make sure you lock the door." He reminds Peter before making his way to the front office. He walks in and up to the the front desk labeled "Pick Up/Drop Off", patiently waiting for the receptionist to speak to him.

"Hello. Picking up or dropping something off?" She asks as she finishes typing something.

"Uh, I'm here to pick up my son from the nurse's office." He hesitantly removes his sunglasses and taps them in his hand, hoping it would make him seem less suspicious.

"Okay, first and last name and date of birth?" She looks up at him, a hint of shock passing through her expression before going back to her job.

"Uh, Travis Y/L/N. And date of birth is..uh… oh. Date of birth 2-18-2009." He smiled at his ability to remember fairly new information.

"Okay, and your name and phone number sir?" She smiles at her need to ask this question, knowing fully well who was standing in front of her.

"Tony Stark. And my phone number is…" After giving his number she politely thanks his cooperation and gives him directions back to the nurse's office. He take a deep breath before knocking on the office door before opening it. "Hi, I'm Tony, Travis's dad, and I'm here to pick him up." The nurse, who was and old black lady, looking to be close to her mid 60's, looks up from what she was writing, surprised to actually see Tony Stark standing in front of her, nervous as hell.

"Oh, Mr. Stark. I-uh- nice to meet you. Travis is just laying in bed 3 but first I'm just gonna need you to sign him out. Just put his name here, your name here, your phone number here, your wi- his mom- Ms. uh-Y/L/N's number here and the date here, please." Tony does as told then makes his way over to his son's bed, giving him a gentle shake to wake him up.

"Hey, kiddo. Ready to go?" He pushed some rouge curls that fell from his pulled back hair while he was sleeping. He touched his head with the back of his hand, feeling the overwhelming warmth radiate. He earns an affirmative groan from his awakening son which prompts his to stand from his kneeling position, picking up his surprisingly heavy backpack in the process. He slings the backpack onto his right shoulder then helps his still partially asleep son from the bed and to the door. "Thank you so much, uh-"

"Mrs. Johnson." The old lady smiles at him. "Please pass onto your wife to make sure to contact the school if Travis is still too sick to come to school Monday. It was very nice to meet you." She smiles politely at Tony then shifts her attention to Travis. "Hope you start feeling better soon, Travis." Travis quietly thanks her then the two leave the nurse's office and out the front office door, but not before thanking the receptionist.

"Alright, you get in the backseat here since Peter decided to tag along. Make sure to buckle up and once you do you can lay down." He helps Travis into the backseat and then gets into the driver's seat, handing Peter Travis's backpack. "We're gonna head over to the compound and you're gonna wait there for your mom, okay" Travis grunts and okay and greets Peter before quickly falling back asleep.

"Dang, what does he have in here? Cinder blocks?" Peter places the backpack in front of him then looks at the sleeping ten year old in the back seat as Tony pulls out of the parking lot.

_____

It's been about half an hour since Tony got Travis and Peter to the Compound and around 15 minutes since you texted Tony and Travis that you were coming to pick Trav up. Travis just woke up from his nap, fully for the first time since Tony picked him up from school, this not including the two times he woke up for no more than a minute to throw up. He sits up on the couch he was sleeping on, taking a moment to let the thumping pain in his head subside, before standing up and beginning to roam around the compound, immediately heading for an elevator not far from where he sat. He pressed the only button present outside of the elevator which pointed down and entered once it opened. He looks at the destinations that labeled each button and decided to go down to the floor labeled "Kiddy Lab", then pulled out his phone to see your text.

Mama (ICE) 🐻:

I'm on my way to the compound, should be there by 330 or 400. Text me when you wake up. 😘

He quickly texts back when he finishes reading.

Just woke up a couple of minutes ago. Head still hurts and so does my throat but my stomach feels a lot better.

He pressed send right as he reached the destined floor, slightly surprised to hear Kendrick Lamar blast through the speakers in the ceiling of the shockingly large and well equipped lab. He walks further in, tightening the blanket around his shoulders, and turns a corner to see Peter at a workbench, seeming to be doing homework and ever so slightly moving to the music.

"Hey, Peter." Travis musters his first full sentence that he's said within the last 45 minutes.

"Oh, hey Trav! How are you feeling?" He places down his pencil and turns around on the lab stool to look at him. His eyes scan down his lanky body, slightly jealous of his height at such a young age, but the overwhelming feeling of practically being a big brother overshadowing everything else.

"Better. Throat and head still hurt…" he looks around the bright lab, somewhat confused about why the lab has what seems to be very advanced technology. "Is this all your's. Like, did… did Tony make this for you?"

"Oh, ha, not exactly. I share this lab with Shuri, who is somewhere around here. Most of this stuff was transported from her lab in Wakanda." Peter calls out for Shuri a few times, knowing of her incoming presence when he hears the volume of the music decrease. From around a large machine comes a dark skinned, tall, thin girl, hair in a ponytail of long braids, streaks of blue flowing through them. She had on black skinny jeans, a large light blue t-shirt with "The Birds Work for the Bourgeoisie." written across the chest in simple black letters and baby blue Air Max's.

"What's up, Spider Boy?" Her thick accent was like heaven to Travis's ears as he took in Shuri's presence.

"Shuri, this is Travis, Tony's son. Travis, the is Princess Shuri of Wakanda and arguably the smartest person in the world." He whispers that last part but still earns a smack from Shuri.

"He just doesn't want to admit that I'm smarter than his beloved Mr. Stark." She turns back to Travis with her hand out and a bright beautiful smile on her face. "Nice to meet you Travis."

"N-n-nice to-uh- meet you too, your majesty." Travis does an awkward hybrid hand shake bow, unsure what to do and too nervous to even look into her eyes.

"Please, just call me Shuri. So, Trav, how old are you?" She begins to walk back around the large machine in the middle of the lab, to which Travis swiftly follows suit.

"I'm, uh, t-ten. Eleven in February." He shivers from the cold air in the lab and wraps his blanket tighter around him.

"That's cool. So, being Tony's son, you must be into something science related, right?" She goes over to a large holographic computer-type set up and types something on the keyboard embedded in the table.

"I like robotics, but it's mainly because my mom is a biomedical engineer and mainly works with robotics. B-but I have always felt some connection to Tony Stark, though." He tries to puff his chest out at his more fanboy-like intuition but has to move quickly to cover his mouth with the crook of his elbow when he feels a cough coming on.

"That's cool. So, you've got smarts on both sides. Do you do anything else? Sports or something?" She manipulates something in the hologram and then continues to type.

"I'm in my schools robotics club, we actually got 4th place at our most recent competition. I'm also on a club baseball team because my mom used to play softball and I liked the stories she used to tell me about her playing and though it sounded cool." At the moment his rambling siezed, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, promoting him to take it out, knowing it's a text from you.

Mama (ICE) 🐻:

I'm here. Be ready to go in 5. I just need to talk to Tony real quick.

Travis groans at the text, coughing at the irritation he imposed on his throat. "My mom is here. I have to get going." He says loud enough for Shuri and Peter to hear.

"Hey, Shuri, we should go up with him. You have to meet his mom. She's super nice." Peter gets up from his stool and makes his way over to the two.

"Alright. I just need to finish one last thing and we'll head up." She looks back at Travis, lowering her gaze ever so slightly when she realizes that Travis just so happened to be slightly shorter than her.

____

Hey, I'm in the compound where are you?

You press send on the text to Tony then head to the elevator, picking up Travis's backpack as you pass it. You press the button and wait for the doors to open, and once they do you enter and press the button labeled "Lab". A minute later you arrived at the end of a short hallway, one side with concrete walls and the other side with tall glass windows allowing all visibility into the lab. As you walk to the end of the hallway where the door was you look in and wave at Tony, adjusting Travis's backpack on your shoulder along with your purse.

"Welcome, Ms. Y/L/N." You hear a female A.I. voice greet you as you open the door into the lab, light rock music playing in the background.

"Hey, Y/N. Uh-how was your presentation?" Tony meets you halfway, which just so happened to be next to a workbench that he decides to lean against.

"I think it went well. The reason I'm coming so late is because they had me take them to the hospital where the robot is being held to show them how it's used. They seemed quite pleased." A quiet fell over the two of you which gave you a second to look around his lab as he watched you admirably. "Oh, uh, thank you so much for picking up Travis and taking care of him for me. It really helped take a load off of my day." You grin at Tony, the natural sparkle in your eye making him melt.

"It was no problem at all. And if you ever need me to do anything at all just text, call, email, face time…" You two giggle at the last suggestion and sit in now more comfortable silence.

"Well, I guess we better get back up to the, uh, main room." You turn to the door that exits back out to the short hallway but stop when you hear Tony call your name.

"Are you free, say, next Friday? I passed a restaurant, uh, Italiano Roma. It seemed right up your alley and I mean we have to celebrate your great presentation. I heard it's pretty new…" He does an open arm gesture and raises his eyebrows, waiting for your answer.

"Yeah, new and expensive." You laugh and begin to walk to the door again.

"Come on. It's all on me." Tony rushes from behind you to open the door. You sigh and turn to look at him holding open the door.

"Fine, next Friday. " You smile and continue out the door and down the hallway.

_____

You and Tony finally make it to the main room, and your heart swells when you see Travis pulling on his shoes, wrapped in a blanket and laughing with Peter and another teenager, a very pretty dark skin girl.

"Mama!" Travis calls over to you then coughs after the sudden throat irritation.

"Hey baby. You ready to go home?" You remove the blanket from his shoulders and help him pull his jacket on.

"Yeah. But before we go, I wanted you to meet Shuri. She's from Wakanda, practically a genius, and only 16." You look at the dreamy look in your son's eyes then at Shuri who already had her hand out.

"It's a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Y/L/N. Your son is a delightful and very bright boy." She smiles a bright smile and gives you a slight bow.

"It's a pleasure meeting you too. I'm glad that Travis has been exposed to such bright talented young adults like you and Peter. Actually…" You briefly at Tony, then back at the teens. "Would you two mind watching Travis next Friday? I made plans with someone and I feel like you two would be the best people to watch him and make sure everything runs smoothly. I'll pay you both, say, $10 and hour?"

"We would love to, Ms. Y/L/N, right Shuri?" Peter walks by Shuri and nudges her.

"Oh, yes. Of course, it would be no problem at all." She smiles.

"Oh, thank you both so much." You look over at where Travis was previously sat only to find that he moved. You turn around to see him talking to Tony. "Trav, time to go." You give him a sorry smile which he nods to, then proceeds to hug Tony and bid everyone in the room goodbye. "Tony, I'll text you when we get home, okay?"

"Okay." He gives you a bright smile and watches as you walk Travis out, feeling his forehead with the back of your hand then rubbing back his rouge curls.

[cruecifymesixx]

Love and Leather /part seventy nine/

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: enjoy! any feedback is appreciated!

Warnings: language, angst, nikki getting caught in his lies, domestic violence

Taglist:  @brideofdraculana , @aryssav , @miserablecunt , @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @fandomshit6000, @anntheboneless,  @justjodeye, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @thatbandchick39, @awkwrdcait, @countrygirlswonderland, @awesomealmostdopestudent, @romanticvengeance , @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @terror-triplet, @shouttatthedevill @beachystars, @rodriguez025, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie, @anxious-diabetic, @awkwardblackgirls, @rockersbox, @brooklyn-antiques, @shamelessobsessions, @jerseytaint, @lilytalebi, @criminalyetminimal, @motley-queen, @trapt-in-a-dream, @lunamadhatter99, @broke-n-bitchy @thanks2pete,  @lovesick-heart0, @keepcalm-and-beyou, @miriampraez, @teenwolflover28, @lilyhw1, @motherloovebone, @random-internet-user-4471, @falcon-arrows, @talranocchia2001,  @waywardprincess666, @malibubarbievince, @iluvmesomemarvelndc, @zoenicoles, @vamprlestat, @supersoldierballerina, @primal-screamer @electradestiny, @marshbev, @n0-sh0rtage-0f-faults, @cruebaby, @ggorehorror, @valentines-in-london, @miss2001babe, @nassauartist  @cmft-jr-winchester, @bokkie92, @notworthyofyou1120 @xrosegoldwolfx, @lauravic, @mgkobsessed, @chaoticvybe,  @kellysimagines @thoughtsoftheantagonist @marvelismylifffe, @sleepyjunhong  @meetthesixxter @sparxx27 @gingerspicetalks @kaitieskidmore1 @unknownoblivion @nevergoodenuffbutokaaayyy @sublimeprincesswasteland @kylieinwonderland @haileynicoleseavey17 @lavendersoundbarrier @youretheonlyonewhomakesme, @xxisxxisxxis, @dogmom2014, @cruesixxlover1991, @xpoisonousrosesx, @cranberrirolls, @m0rnlngstar, @love-struck-aries, @findingmyths, @patheticgay69​, @i-want-to-shoot-myself, @arianareirg, @fentitrbl, @sinningsixx, @motleycrueprincess​, @redlipscrystalskies14, @samanthadegaro​, @makaelahdelvalle​

~January 1st, 1996~

I opened the hotel door, staring at a woman with a food cart, "Good morning Miss Blackwood, I have your breakfast." I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and moved so she could come in.

"I-I didn't order any breakfast..." I mumbled as I watched her put silver trays on the table, taking off the lids before pouring two cups of coffee.

"Well, you were quite adamant about getting french toast when you checked in, however our kitchen was closed at one in the morning." She explained as she also set down the newspaper.

"Oh god. I am so sorry if I said anything out of line to anyone that works here I was really drunk last night. Thank you for bringing this to us....Rebecca." I looked down at her name tag for a split second and smiled.

"Oh no, you were quite the entertainment last night. My coworkers were telling me all about it. You also booked a massage and facial today at three. Our spa room is on the 4th floor. Enjoy the rest of your stay." 

I sat down and started eating, looking up when Clementine came out of the bathroom dressed in her clothes from last night, "Tommy's on his way to pick me up. We have plans with his parents this afternoon."

I glanced over at the clock and saw that it was eleven thirty, "Oh...well thanks for staying with me..." I avoided her glare and continued eating my breakfast, wincing when my stomach started churning.

"Are you gonna call Nikki?" She questioned as I closed my eyes and sat back in the chair, bits and pieces of our fight last night flooding my brain.

"Oh, uh. Yeah I'll call him after while." I took a sip of coffee, "Sorry for last night."

Clementine glanced at me through the mirror as she combed her fingers through her hair, "For what? I had fun last night." She chuckles, "It was just a dumb drunk argument. It happens to everyone. Yours are just a bit over the top, but that's also you as a person."

I chuckled a bit and took another bite, "Thanks for that Clemmy. But again I'm sorry, I know mine and Nikki's fights get out of hand quickly." I shook my head as I pushed the plate of food away from me.

"You know, when we were in New York and you'd tell me about the fights you had with him, I truly thought you were being dramatic. Clearly, I was wrong. That isn't healthy, Van."

I closed my eyes and nodded, "I know, I know." I grabbed my cup of coffee and dug through my purse for a cigarette.

"I gotta go. Tommy said he'd be downstairs at noon. I'll see you back at home later." Clementine came over and gave me a quick hug before she walked out the door.

I took a breath and went onto the balcony, traffic and people yelling coming from below. I lit the cigarette and exhaled, staring at the puffy clouds amongst the smog of the LA skyline. I know the way me and Nikki fight isn't healthy for me or him. It's just like how it's always been, we take three steps forward only to take five steps back. We haven't discussed anything since New York. Us being together, or what the future holds. It's just been pushed to the back burner.

*A few hours later*

"Yeah, keep the change." I spoke kindly to the cab driver as I pulled out a hundred dollar bill and gave it to him. I turned to face the front doors of the house when he drove away.

Okay. Just take a deep breath. He's probably calmed down by now. I've given him space.

I held my heels in one hand and my purse in the other. I opened the door quietly and popped my head inside before Anarchy came running towards me and nudged her head between my knees and went running around the front yard and drive way.

"Mommy!!" Arianna was next to run up to me, I quickly bent down to scoop her up.

"Hi baby! We're you good for Jessie last night?" I kissed her cheeks as she nodded at my words.

"Yes I was! And daddy got me a happy meal for lunch!" I put her down on the floor and she ran to the living room and grabbed a toy.

"Oh daddy remembered to get your toy this time." I pointed at the pink beanie baby dog she had, "It goes with your purple kitty!"

"Mom, can we watch Goofy?" She asked, staring at me with doe like eyes.

"Of course baby. You go get it it from the shelf and I'll go upstairs and get dressed in my jammies okay? Where's daddy?"

She pointed upstairs, "Daddy said he didn't feel good. He needs to go to the doctor."

"I'm sure daddy's fine babe." I bent down and kissed the top of her head. I walked up the stairs tip toeing as I went down the hallway.

"Arianna! What are you doing!" Nikki yelled, I stood by his door frame seeing him dressed in sweats and a black shirt but he was laying face down on the bed.

"She's downstairs. It's just me." I announced my presence as he deeply sighed. I stood up a bit taller when he sat on the edge of his bed and looked at me.

"You know, I had a real funny phone call this morning." Nikki spoke bitterly, my eyes watching every movement as he walked over to me, rubbing his face and pushing hair away.

"Oh? Who was it?" I questioned staring at everything but him as I could see and feel the rage that was spewing out of him.

"Yeah, my accountant called and asked if my credit cards were stolen because someone racked up a fifteen hundred dollar hotel bill plus, three hundred for room service, and a one hundred and fifty dollar bill for a nice little spa day....isn't that just hilarious, Vanity?" Nikkis voice was rough, my eyes kept closed until he put his hand under my chin and made me look at him.

"Nikki, I am sorry. I couldn't find my wallet. I'll pay you back, it's not a problem."

"Sorry? You're sorry? What exactly are you sorry for Van? Because I know you ain't sorry for spending my money, you've done it before so I'm not that surprised." Nikki rolled his eyes before stepping away from me, grabbing my wallet off the dresser, "It fell out of your purse, I'm guessing after you kicked me in the ribs."

I reached for it when he handed it out for me to take, "I'm sorry for kicking you, I was just mad and-"

"Yeah just mad and needed to throw a temper tantrum like always. You embarrassed me, don't you understand that? You had no reason to act like that at all." Nikki cut me off as I stared down at the carpet.

"Sixx, I'm sorry. I was just-" I rolled my eyes in frustration, "I was upset."

Nikki scoffed, "Upset? Upset over what? You had nothing to be upset over, nothing that would cause us to loose control like that."

I shrugged my shoulders, "I don't know. I was just drunk I guess." I took a step back from him when he stepped to me. I looked down as he gently took my hand in his.

"Why were you upset Van? We were having a good time." I shook my head but he gave my hand a squeeze, "Vanity, look at me."

A sigh parted through my lips as my eyes met his, "I saw you with that blonde and I got jealous." 

"Jealous?" Nikki laughed, "Princess, come on." He continued laughing at me as I rolled my eyes and tried pulling my hand away from his.

"Shut up. It's stupid." I mumbled as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me into his chest. I rested my cheek against his chest, closing my eyes and feeling him press a kiss to the top of my head.

"Vanity, you have no reason to be jealous at all. You've never had one. I'm all about you, there's no reason to worry. I love you too much to ever fuck it up again. I wouldn't even know what to do with her number, alright?" Nikki explained to me as I nodded in his embrace.

"I'm sorry for kissing that other guy." I told him as I felt his chest inhale with a deep breath before he exhaled.

"It's....fine. It's a new year and we'll leave everything that's happened in the last few months in the past, deal?" I looked at Nikki and smiled.

"Deal." I reached up to give him a kiss but he turned his cheek.

"However, can we please talk about Clementine moving out? It's been long enough and she's never here anymore. She's always at Tommy's." Nikki questioned as he rubbed my lowered back.

I let out a groan and laid my forehead against his sternum, "I'll talk to her about it, okay?"

*a few weeks later*

"Arianna! Put on the damn helmet!" I reprimanded her for the fifth time as she rode around the backyard on her scooter, "I hate that thing. She's fallen three times in the past week. That's how she got that scratch on her chin." I told Clementine, shaking my head as Ari came over to me so I could buckle it.

"You need to wear this baby. I know you hate it, but it's the rule." I told her as I adjusted the straps too.

"It's a 'tupid rule." She grumbled.

"You don't have to ride it at all if you're going to be like that." I told her as she then glared at me before dragging the scooter away and riding it again, "Brat." I rolled my eyes as I got back to my lunch, "Anyways, that art gig?"

"Yes! It's this art exhibit that's downtown and it's next month. I found a clipping for it at this thrift store I went too and got in touch with the person that runs it and she loved my work. And I'll be able to sell some pieces too." Clementine explained cheerfully before taking a bite of her sandwich.

"Oh Clemmy! That's amazing! Let me know when it is and I'll be sure to come. I'm sure Tommy's excited to have an artist in the house." I said cheerfully, not thinking twice of it as I saw her tilt her head and look at me, "What?"

"What's that suppose to mean?" Clementine question as she leaned back in the chair and stared, her could gaze leaving me burned.

"Huh?" A confused expression riddled my face, "What do you mean? I meant like a girlfriend whose an artist since I know he's been trying to explore other creative outlets."

Clementine shook her head and took a sip of the sweet sun tea I made earlier, "But why'd you say it like that?"

"What the fuck are you talking about Clementine?" I laughed, "I'm not following you."

"You said in the house, as if I'm living there." She clarified for me.

"Okay? I didn't mean anything by that. But aren't you kinda living there anyways?" I smiled harmlessly at her, "You're hardly here anymore."

"I'm here all the time Vanity. All my stuff is here. Why? Do you want me to move out?" She asked as I stared at her.

"What? No no. Clementine, I truly am not trying to offend you. It was just a stupid comment." I shook my head and took a bite of my lunch.

"..then what's with that eye roll." She got defensive as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"That wasn't...oh my god. I didn't roll my eyes Clem, can you relax?" I shook my head and glanced over at Arianna playing in the playhouse Nikki had got for her.

"I know Nikki wants me to move out. He doesn't have a quiet voice when he tells you." My eyes darted to her.

"Clem, he's just...he thinks you've been here long enough and that being at Tommy's would be good for your relationship." I explained as she rolled her eyes this time.

"Bullshit. He just wants me gone. He doesn't give a fuck about my relationship with Tommy. He's always wanted me out of the way." Clem expressed, "He's always treated me like the dirt under his boot."

Here we go, "Clementine, no he hasn't. Maybe yes in the beginning when you two first met but he's thankful you've been here to help with Ari."

"Yes he has Vanity!" I stared as she raised her voice, "He puts on a damn good facade for you and treats me nicely to please you. He's a fucking asshole to me when you turn your back."

"And I've told him too cool it and he has." I glared, "He doesn't say that mean comments nor does he give you the dirty looks since coming to live here, why can't you just let it go?"

She shook her head, "Because he still does it when you aren't looking! Jesus Christ, Vanity! He tried paying me off to keep me in New York! I have the check!"

"Wow." I scoffed, "I know you don't like him but you don't need to lie about him. Nikki would never do that. Yeah he's a dick sometimes but he wouldn't go that low."

Clementine laughed as she adjusted in the chair, "..That low? Vanity, the dude has hurt you and fucked you over countless times and-"

"...And that's mine and Nikki's business. So don't bring it up." I warned her, "Just because he's not here to defend himself doesn't mean I won't do it for him, so quit fucking lying about Nikki. He didn't try to pay you off."

"I'm not lying to you, Van! When have I ever lied to you? Or given you a reason not to believe me?"  I looked away from Clementine, seeing the hurt expression in her eyes.

"I know he's rude but he would never. And if he did, he was probably just joking. You know Nikki has a weird sense of humor."

"You never believe when he treats me like garbage, Vanity! You never do! You just let him walk all over me and shut me out unless it involves Arianna! It's like I'm fighting to be your friend!"

I rolled my eyes, "Oh my god, I take your side all the time so don't say that! You're being so dramatic right now Clem! I let you know everything that's going on regardless if it involves Arianna or not! So drop it, I don't get what your fucking issue is with Nikki. He flew you out here, let you move into the house, cleared out a room for you to live in and paint in! He's been trying to make sure you're comfortable here!"

"He didn't want me to come in the first place, Vanity! Stop being stubborn and putting Nikki on a pedestal and listen to me!" Clementine shouted loudly as her cheeks turned a shade of pink.

"Good god, what's with all the yelling?" Nikki came in from the side gate, Arianna running from across the yard to him, "Could hear the both of you from the front. Tell mommy and auntie to put the claws away, angel." He picked her up and gave her a big kiss on the cheek.

"Then go get me the damn check if it's real." I spoke in a hush tone as Arianna walked over to me and pulled herself up on my lap, but best believe she felt the harshness of it. Clementine stormed past Nikki before heading inside.

I closed my eyes and kissed the back of her head as she reached for a piece of fruit off my plate before my glare met Nikki, "What? What did I do?" He asked confused.

"Baby, go play fetch with Anarchy. Daddy and I have to talk about boring stuff." I spoke softly in her ear and tickled her sides, making her squirm and giggle as she got off.

"Can we play mermaids in the pool again?" She asked, pulling on my hand a bit.

I smiled at her, "Yes Ari of course."

Nikki cleared his throat and pulled up a chair next to me, "Wha-what do we have to talk about?"

I ignored his question, eyes narrowing as Clementine came down with a piece of paper between her fingers. My heartbeat was in my ears, matching every step she took until she stood at the table and tossed the paper in front of me, "There's your fucking proof."

I didn't have to take a second look at it, seeing the zeroes and Nikki's signature. I watched as ringed and tattooed fingers carefully reached across and grabbed it, taking a glance before I heard muttered curse words fly out of his mouth.

"Vanity, just let me explain.."

"Why didn't you saying anything, Clementine?! Why did you wait months to tell me!" I raised my voice, standing up from the lawn chair and pushing it back.

Clementine stared, "I-I didn't think you'd believe me and would think I was being dramatic like always."

I shook my head, "I do not think that! Jesus-" I closed my eyes and counted to five, "I wouldn't have let fucking New York if you told me." I said through gritted teeth.

"Van..come on." Nikki spoke quietly as he reached for my wrist only for his hand to be slapped away from me.

"You needed to get out of New York. That's why I didn't say anything Van. Arianna needed her father and you love him and you needed him too..."

I laughed in her face, "I went five fucking years without him! And maybe I'll do it again!" I shouted, my gaze finally landing on Nikki, "We were fine! I'm not made of glass!" I shook my head, growing frustrated with the both of them.

"Vanity, please just let me explain. Please?" Nikki begged as he reached for my hand but I again pushed his hand away from me.

"Explain what?! You tried paying her off to get her away from me! There's nothing to explain!" I shouted at him as he sat in the chair like a scolded puppy, "I'm leaving." I muttered to the both of them before turning my heels and heading inside, both of them following me.

"Vanity, just think for a moment. You can't just leave." Clementine said to me, "You can't just run away-"

I immediately stopped and turned around to look at the both of them, "Run away?!? I am going to calm down before I loose my fucking mind!" I screamed in her face, stepping up to her as Nikki got in the middle, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me back.

"Do not fucking touch me, Nikki!" I shoved his chest, pointing a finger in his face, "I. Am. Leaving." Every word was announced with a shove to his torso until he was out of my face.

I turned my back to him as I walked through the house out a fast paced, listening to them bicker behind me. My hand reached out for my keys in the bowl at the front door until Nikki blocked the door, "Move!" I shouted, attempting to push him out of the way.

"You want to calm down? Fine, but you do it in the house. Just let me explain, okay?" Nikki pleaded with me.

I threw my car keys on the floor, tears of anger and confusion bubbling over as I stared at him, "Explain what Nik?! Why can't you just be good?!" I sobbed to him, voice cracking, "Why can't we just be normal! Why does everything have to be so difficult with us?! How can you justify attempting to pay one of my friends to stay out of my life?"

"Okay...we have little ears listening..." Clementine whispered to me, pressing her hand to my shoulder.

"Why Nikki?" I begged quietly for an answer, staring as he looked at the floor. I licked salty tears from the  corner of my lips as he shook his head, refusing to give me an answer. I wiped my face a few times, eyes now stinging as I turned around and bent down to Arianna.

"I'll be back, okay? I promise. I just have to go run some errands." I told her, trying to keep it together as she gazed at me.

"But mermaids..."

I nodded, "I know baby, I know. We'll play as soon as I get back." I reached for my car keys, "I pinky promise." I forced a smile, holding up my pinky as she locked it with hers.

I kissed her forehead before standing up and turning back to the door, Nikki surprisingly opening it up for me before following and closing the door.

"Vanity, I am so sorry. I shouldn't have-"

His sentence was brought to a screeching halt as my opened palm connected with the his cheek. Our eyes met as he rubbed his face, anger matching anger. His mossy eyes darkening by the second, the jaw muscle twitching under his skin as he burned holes into me. I waited for his fist to come, instead of hitting the wall above me as we argued in my bedroom at the condo I shared with Lucia and Tonya, it was going to be me this time.

"Will you come back home?" It would almost sound loving if his wrath wasn't wrapped around his words.

I ignored his curiosity, turning my side to him as I opened up the car door only for it to be slammed shut and my arm to be held in a vise grip, "I asked you a fucking question, Vanity."

I attempted to yank my arm from him, but Nikki only squeezed it harder, pulling me to him, "Obviously, idiot. Now let go of me." I quickly got in my car, locking the doors before driving away.

*Nikki's POV*

I breathed out, hearing the tires screech as she drove down the street, "God damnit.." I mumbled, rubbing my jaw as it felt hot and beginning to swell under my touch.

I headed back inside, slamming the front door, "Clementine!?"

I looked up the stairs when she came walking down them, "Pack your shit and get the fuck out of my house."  I barked as she stared at me, a chuckle arising out of her, "Do you really find this hilarious?"

She shook her head, "No, but I find that handprint on the side of your face funny." Clementine smirked, "Vanity was going to find out sooner or later."

"Or not at fucking all! Fuck, just mind your own god damn business." I shook my head, walking to the kitchen and grabbing a bag of frozen fruit to put on the side of my face.

"And base your relationship with her on lies? Sounds like a good idea to me." She rolled her eyes.

"What fucking relationship?! We don't have one because of all this shit!" I shouted, throwing the bag across the kitchen and at the wall, "You don't know anything about us! Nothing! We've been trying and now that you go and pull this shit out, it fucking ruins it!"

"Me? Take a look in the damn mirror, Nikki. Whose name is on that check? You decided to do that. You went out of your way to get me out of her life and it still didn't work! You know, she talks up a good game when it comes to you. But she's so god damn naive and stubborn she refuses to think anything else. You take advantage of how much she cares-"

"I do not take advantage of her!"

"Oh yes you do! You keep saying I don't know your relationship with her? Nikki, I listened to her cry over you for a very long time. Everything you got away with! The name calling, the egotistical behavior, oh Vans nice and handy because she'll spread her legs for me whenever I want, she'll get on her knees for me whenever I snap my fingers. For fucks sake, you cheated on her right up those stairs and she still has you so high on that fucking pedestal, it's disgusting and down right abusive."

My eyes darted to hers, "I am not abusive! Don't throw that word around."

"Why because it's true?" Clementine scoffed in disgust as she turned her back to me and started walking down the hall, "The whole dynamic of your relationship with her is toxic."

I knew it was starting to get back into that viscous cycle like how it was when we were younger. I was trying my hardest to keep it from getting there but it's always been a full steamed locomotive between us and we were crashing.

"I'll pack what I can and have Tommy come help me with the rest."

I put my hands on the counter, leaning my body weight into them as I stared at the white marble. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

My ears raised when I heard the little sound of a whimper, "Shit..." I muttered as I saw Arianna peaking from behind the wall, cheeks pink and tears running down them, "Baby.." I took a breath and walked over to her, a loud cry escaping her as she held her arms up. I picked Ari up, her arms wrapping around my shoulders, "Sh, sh, sh, I'm sorry. Daddy didn't know you were listening." I spoke softly, rubbing her back and gently rocking her from side to side as she clung to me.

"I'm sorry, Ari. I didn't mean to yell in front of you." I frowned, feeling her shake and tremble as she cried in my ear.

"I-I want...I want mommy!!" She yelled, making me wince as I walked us over to the couch and sat down.

"Me too angel. But she'll be back in a little bit. Just relax for me." I kissed the side of her cheek, holding her close to my chest, "It's going to be alright, okay? Everything's going to be okay."

I don't know if I was telling her that to make her feel better, or if it was for me.

*Vanity's POV*

I sighed deeply, staring out of the window of a coffee shop on the beach in Venice. I took a sip of my French press before taking a bite of a turkey and Swiss sandwich. I picked up a pack of smokes and chain smoked as I drove around the city before ending up here. I haven't done that in a long time. I tapped my nails against the wooden table, glaring as I thought about Clementine and Nikki. What the hell was I suppose to say to either of them?

I felt like shit after I realized Clementine was telling the truth about the check. And I felt bad about leaving like that after hitting Nikki. Well, kinda. I shouldn't have hit him, but I think it was justified. I breathed out heavily and took another sip of my coffee.

"Rough day?"

I rolled my eyes at the male voice behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, seeing a sharp jaw and shoulder length dirty blonde hair. I did a double take, a light gasp falling past my lips.

"Uh...yeah, you can say that." I told him, watching as he took the spot in front of me and sat down with his own coffee.

"Work? Or someone in your life? You have a mighty mean mug on your face." He smiled brightly as an accent I couldn't figure out rolled off his tongue.

I chuckled a bit, "Yeah, just people in my life that like to stress me out over such stupid crap." I pushed my sunglasses up to the top of my head, "Are you having a good day?"

I watched his eyes wander over me a bit, "I'm having a great day. Even better when I see a pretty girl."

"Do you always talk to sad and upset girls?" I asked him as he nodded.

"If I can make them feel better with just a simple conversation, then yes I do. What's your name, sweetheart?"

"I'm Vanity. It's nice to meet you...Mr. Bon Jovi."

He laughed, "Please, just call me Jon. It's nice to meet you." He studied me for a second, "Now that we know each other, why are you so mad?"

I shook my head, "Is it really that noticeable?"

He nods, "Yes ma'am. Shoulders are tense, eyebrows are tight, so is that jaw of yours and by the way you have ripped that napkin to shreds seems to me like someone really ticked you off."

I breathed out and slumped back in the chair, attempting to relax, "I had to go on a drive to calm down, but that was an hour ago. I'm still really mad, but I have to go home soon and I'm not ready."

"So don't." He grinned, "It's still a beautiful day, and maybe you just need the right company."

His eyebrow arched in a playful manner as I glanced at him for a split second, "Maybe a few years ago I would've said yes, but I have a daughter and I can't be out running around the city with some guy I just met."

His eyes widened a bit, "A mom? Wow, I wouldn't have guessed at all. You're absolutely breathtaking, Vanity."

My cheeks grew warm as I pulled out my wallet and handed over a school picture, "Her names Arianna."

Jon squinted a bit, "Shes cute, looks like trouble too."

"You wouldn't believe it. She gives me and her dad a run for our money." I put the picture away, seeing him bring his cup of coffee to his lips.

"Oh? Are you uh, with the dad? I guess I should've asked if you were seeing anyone first before I started flirting."

I smiled at his nervousness, "No, no I'm not with her father, or anyone for that matter. He's actually one of the people I'm mad at today."

"Do you have a pen?" He asked me and I nodded, digging through my purse and grabbing one. I watched as he ripped a piece of napkin and wrote down his number.

"If you ever have a free moment away from your daughter, give me a call. I wouldn't mind to talk to you again." He smiled kindly, handing it over as I took it, "And if that guy ever needs his ass kicked, I'll be there."

I laughed, "I'm sure you probably could kick his ass. I'll call you sometime Jon."

After while I was back at the house, something was in the oven baking and the house was a tad bit cleaner. I tossed my car keys into the bowl, before I could even take a step, Nikki was in my face with a dish towel in his hand.

"Yeah, I know you're sorry." I brushed him off, noticing red marks on his cheek, I hope that didn't leave a bad bruise.

"I vacuumed the living room and I did the dishes. And I have lasagna in the oven. And Arianna is taking a little nap." He said, wringing the towel in his hands.

"Where's Clementine?" I questioned

"She left. Tommy came and got her, she packed a few bags and said she'll get the rest of her stuff soon."

I nodded, "Great. You got what you wanted." I tried walking past him but he stopped me.

"This isn't what I wanted, Vanity." He spoke softly, "I didn't want it to be a huge fight like this, you gotta believe me."

I chuckled, "What did you expect to happen Nikki? Just that I never find out? Just-what the fuck? I was going to come back to Los Angeles regardless."

He frowned, "How was I suppose to know that? You have a thing for running away." I stared at him as he groaned, "Fuck, that isn't what I mean. I'm sorry. I fucking regret ever offering her all that money."

"You're the worlds biggest bullshitter, Nikki." I tried pulling away from him but just like earlier, he wouldn't let go. "I don't want to talk about it anymore. I'm tired of arguing with you. We're just going in a never ending circle, and I am tired Nikki.  I am exhausted."

[acelikesturtles]

“For The Love of Cake”

Prompt: Bakery AU - Mikey x Gender-Neutral Y/N

Warnings: Profanity

Word Count: 3,885

A/N: Okay so despite what the screenshot looks like, the original prompt came to be from a conversation on discord, but @wacheypena was the one that officially came up with the prompt, @dw-im-just-sad just sent it to me because I consistently have the memory of a goldfish, so credit for the idea totally goes to wachey. @dw-im-just-sad also wrote her own version of this prompt so go check it out on her blog and give her some love!

“Fuck.”

A blast of warm air from the oven hit your face and pushed the stray hairs out of your eyes. Despite how delicious the freshly baked poppy seed muffins smelled, there was no way in hell that these met the signature Paisley's standard. You tucked a loose strand of hair back behind your ear with your free hand as you set the tray down on the steel counter behind the oven. Two other perfectly top-notch batches of muffins from 45 minutes ago sat only a couple inches away, freed from the confines of the muffin tray and sitting pretty on the tabletop cooling rack. You popped one of the new muffins out of the tray and set it on the counter as a half-pout began tugging at the corners of your mouth. All the muffins here were caved in on the top and looked dense and chewy instead of moist and soft like they were supposed to.

You racked your brain, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. You poked the muffin with a toothpick to check the center then sliced it open with a fork to check the inside. Little tendrils of steam escaped from the muffin’s tortured core; a squashed, condensed, pathetic looking center that seemed ashamed of its own existence sitting beside the high and mighty rises that all its cousins had managed to achieve. You figured that in a moment of absent-minded baking you must have put too much baking powder into the batter, thus creating the chewy texture and the catastrophic cave-in on the tops. With a firm frown and a short sigh through the nose in defeat, you picked up the muffin tray and headed towards the back door quietly.

Normally you wouldn’t be so secretive about bad muffins and tossing them in the bin outside, but the manager, Heather, had been cracking down on all the wasted ingredients that went into batches of bread and cupcakes and muffins and cookies that ultimately ended up ruined beyond relief by new-hires. Admittedly these muffins weren’t as bad of a mistake as per the other new-hires’ usual (like leaving whipping cream mixing until it turned into butter), but these sad excuses for poppy seed muffins were still a recognizable mistake that could easily be attributed to you rather than Rosetta, who always managed to forget at least one egg when she made cake batter.

You opened the door to the back alley behind Paisley’s and kicked the rubber doorstep underneath the gap to hold it in place. You balanced the tray in one hand and used the other to lift the lid off the unofficially named “Fuck-Up” can. With a few small taps against the rim of the bin, the muffins tumbled out of the tray and into the trash, only leaving behind the faintest lingering scent as you returned the lid. You wiped the sweat that had gathered on your brow with the back of your hand. Looking up, the sky had turned a shade of pinkened violet that felt reminiscent of the childhood summer sunsets you had enjoyed back home. You checked your watch. Five minutes until the end of your shift. You hauled yourself back inside and began cleaning up your work station with the torn and stained damp rag assigned to your work space.

Your mind felt full with thoughts, heavy even. Five months in New York and aside from securing a relatively nice apartment with only a mildly concerning roach problem and an “only kinda-severely-cramped” bathroom, you weren’t feeling as if you were making much progress like you had maybe anticipated when the opportunity to move had first arisen. You had moved, after all, in the hopes of starting your own café. It would be something small and quiet, a safe space in the heart of the city for people to come and bask in the welcoming atmosphere and enjoy the soft sounds of Lo-Fi playing above their warm cups of coffee and freshly baked cinnamon rolls. You’d donate food to the homeless on Wednesday evenings after closing time, and on Sunday nights the café would host Bingo and Trivia competitions for charity like they did at some of the local bars. The thought of being able to make your dream come true here made you feel immensely grateful to be on the path your heart had been calling you to. Paisley’s was better than being stuck in your hometown selling discount jeans. Right now though, working these grueling hours made you feel even farther away from the finish line than you had thought it would when you started. Rather than a feeling of excited and determined immersion in a career area that would someday be a part of the larger puzzle you longed to complete, Paisley’s felt like a chore that truly nobody enjoyed aside from Heather’s domineering managerial attitude.

You tossed the dirty rag into the laundry bin on the other side of the kitchen and began making your way towards the time clock to punch out for the night. Your aching feet were relieved just knowing that rest was coming soon.

“You headed out for the night?” A coworker asked, bumping into your shoulder while you punched in your employee number.

“Yep,” You stifled a yawn. “Poppy seed muffins at my work station still need to be stored for the catering thing tomorrow, so have somebody do that when you close.”

“Sure thing, on my way to do that right now.” They responded.

You finished clocking out and lazily shuffled back through the kitchen towards the rear door again, now fully caught in a yawn. You opened the door and took two steps outside before waiting to hear the slam and the click of the lock behind you, finalizing the official end of your shift. Now that you were outside though, something felt off. You glanced down at the “Fuck-Up” bin. The lid was ajar instead of firmly placed like it had been when you had messed with it earlier. Perplexed, you picked up the lid and peered inside the can only to find it empty of the muffins you had tossed in there before. Bizarre, but not unheard of. Paisley’s didn’t donate any of their leftover food to homeless shelters and you had heard from your coworkers that the homeless often peruse through the large dumpster behind the bakery for scraps hoping that the trashed food wasn’t as bad as employees thought. You could hardly blame them for trying. One company’s terrible batch of cookies is another man’s saving grace. At least someone was making use of your mistake.

You yawned again, shuffling down the concrete steps towards your neon green motorbike. You knelt down to unlock the chain holding it to the company bike rack, absently humming some commercial jingle that had been stuck in your head for the last day or two. Once the lock was completely freed you stuffed it into your bag, kicked the kickstand back up, and fished your keys out of your pocket to turn the ignition. Just as the motor began to sputter to life, you heard shuffling feet and a faint and stifled cough echo in the alley around you. It was near impossible to not feel spooked or even just a little bothered at the thought that the person from earlier could still be lurking in the alley, even if you had no real proof that they were harmful. You had heard too many horror stories and seen too many documentaries to be foolish. Not taking any chances, you hopped onto your motorbike and immediately hit the gas, taking a sharp turn into the street and not daring to look behind you. You could have just been paranoid of course, squirrels and other animals liked to dig through their trash and make noise in the alley too, but when confronted with the silliness of the concept of hundreds of rats carrying the muffins away you found yourself instead hoping that the person that had fished through their trash had gotten what they needed (and that they wouldn’t still be there by morning).

-----------------------------------------

The next morning as you came up the back steps to the kitchen you noticed a bright yellow post-it note stuck to the lid of the “Fuck-Up” bin that hadn’t been there the night before. At first you hesitated to read the note. There was an anxious pang in your gut that made you feel uneasy about it in a way that you couldn’t put you finger on. You reached your hand forward to open the door to the kitchen, but found your hand only hovering over the knob with no real intent of going in yet. You needed the closure that would likely come with reading the note, even if it was a little intimidating, the thought of someone interacting with you by way of your ruined poppy seed muffins. You plucked the sticky note from the rusty lid and held it up to your eyes, squinting to read the chicken scratch.

“Hey dude! These ones were not my favorites but still yummy! Get me some oatmeal cookies next time, the crispy ones! Those are fuckin’ delicious! -MC Mikey.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion. Was this person seriously asking for more rejects? The only crispy oatmeal cookies that Paisley’s made that ended up in that bin were overcooked or half burnt, unless…did they think that this was a donation bin? Confused, you pushed your way through entrance and into the kitchen, claimed an empty work station, and headed over to the time clock to punch in your employee number. You were suddenly feeling a little bit more concerned for this individual than you did afraid of them. Maybe this was just someone ridiculously naïve. Maybe this was a kid that didn’t know any better and liked the smell that the trash behind Paisley’s had. Your sympathy had kicked in alongside a compulsive desire to bake those requested oatmeal cookies, and once you’d returned to your station you began flipping through the company cookbook for the recipe so you could sneak a mini-batch in-between actual requests.

After about 20 minutes, you pulled the first batch of cookies out of the oven and pushed the next sheet in. The smell was heavenly, an intoxicating mix of warm vanilla and cinnamon that made you salivate at first whiff. You picked up a cookie to check for the soft texture that was so characteristic for the recipe and sighed in relief when they pulled apart just like desserts did in those viral Instagram videos, softly and delicately. Hopefully these cookies would become this stranger’s new favorite. Whoever this was could have the experience of a real oatmeal cookie without the element of burnt edges interfering with the flavor, and the thought of being able to provide that joy was enough to put a little more pep in your step than was there before.

Several hours, a lunch break, and a couple run-ins with your bitch-of-a-manager later, you found yourself in front of the time clock again with a small Ziploc baggie of oatmeal cookies secured in your bag. They wouldn’t be as fresh as they were when they first came out of the oven unfortunately, but they’d still taste better than burnt and crispy cookies--that you were at least certain of. Once you’d finished punching in your employee number you made your way towards the back door as quickly as you could with aching arches and a stiff lower back. You stepped out onto the concrete stairs and waited for the latch behind you to click before making your way down the steps with one hand firmly grasped on the chipped railing beside you while the other dug around in your half-zipped bag for your keys and the Ziploc filled with cookies.

Your sneakers hit the alley and you let out a loud yawn while rolling your neck from shoulder to shoulder. You turned towards the “Fuck-Up” bin and gently placed the baggie on top of the lid. Should you have left a note? Would this person even care if there was a note as long as the cargo inside was sealed away from the elements? You let a puff of air out through your nose and let the worry roll of your shoulders as you turned back towards where you had parked your bike, keys jangling in hand. Just as you were about to reach your bike, you heard the shuffling sound again. Without hesitation you turned on your heel and looked back towards the garbage bins. Nothing had changed, nobody was there, but the noise of muffled footsteps said otherwise. This time you didn’t feel like running as much as you did like investigating the source of the noise to ease your curiosity to rest. You kept one hand firmly gripped on your pepper spray, and slowly stepped forwards, stopping at about the halfway point between you and the trash.

“Anybody there?” You called out. Your voice sounded particularly sick and crackly from the long work day. There weren’t any response and the sounds in the alley went dead quiet to underscore the sound of your own breathing instead. “If you’re the one who came by yesterday digging through our trash-” You started, wincing at your own condescending tone. You sounded so harsh, especially considering the fact that this could easily be a child based on what the handwriting had seemed like. “Sorry, I…I left you some oatmeal cookies. They’re on the lid.” You spoke softer, gesturing towards the “Fuck-Up” bin vaguely. The silence persisted. Now you were beginning to feel uneasy. The hairs on the back of your neck were practically standing up and you were beginning to think that you had either gone crazy or that maybe you were dealing with some kind of back-alley ghost.

Do ghosts even eat? Can ghosts even eat?

Without warning, a large hand partially cloaked by shadows broke free from the dumpster and began swiping in the general direction of where you had left the Ziploc bag. It would almost be comparable to a scene from a horror movie if the hand and the arm didn’t seem so clueless and desperate to get to the baggie. You fought back a smile and took a couple steps closer. You still had a grip on your concealed pepper spray just in case, but the thought of the stranger assaulting you was fading from the forefront of your mind. It wasn’t until you got close enough to see that this person’s hand was noticeably malformed—only two large fingers and a thumb—that fear was pushed onto the main burner once again. Clearly frustrated with the whole ordeal, the head and shoulders the appendage was attached to slammed up against the top of the dumpster and pushed the lid up against the wall behind him. That’s when he made almost immediate eye contact with you. Crystal blue eyes clashed against orange fabric and scaly green skin in a way that shocked your system to your core. This wasn’t a child, and it wasn’t a human, and it wasn’t, as far as you could gather, anywhere in between. A large shell was fused to his skin in a way that further broke your perception of reality as you tried to rationalize what you were seeing without thinking about costumes or special effects makeup or even aliens. You stood in shock for a moment, unblinking, watching as he strained to reach the baggie in front of him. He poked his tongue out and grunted as he stretched over the side of the dumpster, just barely missing the Ziploc with each swing of his arm.

“Dude, you could at least help!” He groaned, collapsing his upper body over the side of the dumpster in defeat.

You blinked and suddenly you were forced back into reality…or at least, whatever reality this was.

You took several more steps forward and snatched the Ziploc up in your hands, gently handing it to the…creature that was currently in the company dumpster. You had so many questions you needed to ask, too many questions, and without even opening your mouth the turtle began answering at least some of them one-by-one while shoving oatmeal cookies down his throat.

“I see you’re kiiiinda freaked out, and that’s okay! I get it, Mikey’s just so overwhelming to the ladies,” He said with a smug grin. “Turtle, mutant, ninja, sex god, what isn’t there to love angelcakes?” Your carefully baked batch of oatmeal cookies were disappearing in seconds, miniscule in comparison to the size and capacity of his stomach. “Oh, also?” He spoke through a mouthful of crumbs, spewing half-chewed chunks of oats and sugar all over the concrete beneath them. “These could use more cinnamon.”

“I-“ You hesitated for a moment. Your mind was filled to the brim with unfinished thoughts and rabbit trail theories about how Mikey himself was even possible (that is, if you weren’t dreaming) but they all came to a screeching halt when his comment about the cinnamon broke through your occupied mind. “Wait, really? I thought there was plenty, let me try that.” You huffed, snatching a cookie from one of his oversized, mutant hands. Within the first bite you were able to tell that he was right. The cinnamon flavor was more subtle than you had intended; a mere hint of warmth rather than the overwhelming comfort that you had been aiming for. “Oh. Yeah, I-I guess you’re right…Mikey.”

“Yeah, and those cupcakes the other day were-“

“Too much baking powder, I know,” You laughed and shook your head. “Those must’ve tasted gnarly, sorry,” You stopped mid-breath. “Wait. Cupcakes? Those were muffins.”

“Oooohh! So that’s why they didn’t come with frosting,” Mikey laughed. “Well that’s disappointing, I thought I was getting cupcakes. No wonder.” As the turtle crawled out from the dumpster with his empty Ziploc in hand, you became dwarfed beside him. He was tall, but not as menacing as you may have originally assumed. A half smile gradually worked its way onto your face as you looked up at him, trying to avoid grimacing at the smell of liquid garbage dripping all over his body.

“Next time I...I could make you cupcakes if you’d like.” You responded.

Mikey’s eyes looked alive with excitement as he nodded in complete agreement, musing aloud all his favorite flavors and fillings and frostings to you with a childlike delight. First there was snickerdoodle with extra cinnamon, then there was lemon meringue with more meringue than there was lemon. Red velvet with a whipped cream filling, double chocolate fudge with a gooey peanut butter center, tangy orange creamsicle with a tangerine wedge on top. You weren’t taking notes, but you figured that your personal investment in listening to a mutant turtle talk about his own takes on classic (and invented) flavors was enough to hold onto what he said in your memory, even if in the morning it may all seem like a hazy, drug-induced fever dream. You actually found yourself so intrigued with some of his flavor combinations and substitutions that you barely noticed that the grip you had been holding on the pepper spray had been entirely released, instead allowing that hand the freedom to gesture in a more relaxed manner as you articulated.

It wasn’t until the sound of a distant police siren echoing several streets away that the conversation stopped rather abruptly. The sound had grabbed the turtle’s attention in a way that stopped him in the middle of a sentence and replaced his excited expression with one of worry and concern. His eyes fell back towards you. You were searching his expression for a reason behind his troubled gaze just as much as you were looking for a clear answer behind what it was that made him who he was.

“Do you have a Sharpie?” He asked urgently. He looked behind him and over both of your shoulders nervously, as if he was waiting for someone to pounce, and that alone was enough to make you feel on edge again.

“Why?” Bewildered, you began digging in your bag again, searching for a permanent marker. You couldn’t find one but after clarifying that something similar might work, you managed to fish a red ink pen from the depths of your disorganized mess of a bag. Mikey snatched the pen from your hands, pulled the cap off with his teeth and spit it out onto the concrete, then stretched your forearm out in front of him. He scribbled a bunch of numbers rather messily onto your skin. He had accidentally smudged the undried ink a time or two and had to correct it, but when he was finished the string of numbers came out looking exactly like a standard, New-York area phone number. If this was a dream it sure was a detailed dream, you had to at least give it credit for that.

“My digits,” Mikey beamed while making the oh-so-stereotypical ‘call me’ gesture with his hand. “Call me, angelcakes. Unless you don’t want to, then like, don’t call me.” He shrugged. His confident aura practically dripped off of him as he began backing away into the shadows, shell nearly flush against the wall behind him. His hands rested on his holstered nunchakus as the police sirens faded away into the distance.

“Wait,” You faltered. Seeing him leave just as quickly as he had arrived made the flood of jumbled and confused thoughts come rushing back to you all at once. He couldn’t leave now, not when you were just beginning to get a grip on having him be a part of the same reality you were in. “Where are you going? What’s going on? What about the cupcakes?”

“Orange dreamsicle,” Mikey called back with a song in his voice. “Extra orange!” He said with a wink, while gesturing toward the cloth that covered his eyes.

Mikey had vanished into thin air, and just like that, you found yourself immersed in relative silence again. You pinched your forearm but didn’t wake up. You pulled on a singular lock of hair really hard, but didn’t wake up. Whatever you had just witnessed was still your reality, as evidenced by the smudgy red ink on your skin. You blinked once, then twice, then wiped the sweat off of your keys and your pepper spray and began shuffling towards your motorbike again. You turned your keys in the ignition, but when the engine started you didn’t feel the relief that you normally did when you were getting ready to head home from a grueling shift at work. If anything, your energy levels had peaked alongside your need to satiate your newfound curiosity aching in your bones. You pushed the kickstand up, removed the lock, pulled your phone out of your back pocket, and took your seat. You glanced down at your forearm again. The messy red ink was becoming clearer the more you stared at it. Perhaps it was just natural human tendencies at work, or maybe even fate, but the words just seemed to naturally tumble onto your keyboard once you’d copied the smudgy numbers into your contact list.

“Hey, Mikey right? I forgot to tell you my name. It’s Y/N.”

[aliciameade]

A Thousand Cuts

Title: A Thousand Cuts Author: aliciameade Rating: M for alcoholism and angst Pairing: Beca/Chloe Summary: Beca doesn't realize she needs to get her shit together until it's too late, or, my take on a prompt I was sent to write something based on Taylor Swift’s “Death by a Thousand Cuts.”

Also on AO3

My heart, my hips, my body, my love / Trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch

Gave up on me like I was a bad drug / Now I'm searching for signs in a haunted club

Our songs, our films, united, we stand / Our country, guess it was a lawless land 

Quiet my fears with the touch of your hand / Paper cut stings from my paper-thin plans 

My time, my wine, my spirit, my trust / Trying to find a part of me you didn't take up 

Gave you so much, but it wasn't enough / But I'll be alright, it's just a thousand cuts

“You don’t mean that.” Beca’s voice cracks over the words; she’s moments from crying and she knows it.

Chloe’s already crying. “The hell I don’t.” Her voice is steady despite the tears. Her jaw is set, the muscles in her left cheek tensing with how hard she’s clenching it.

“Where am I supposed to go?” That’s when the first tear finally hits Beca’s cheek. They don’t stop after that and she doesn’t bother trying to wipe them away. “I don’t know anyone else here!”

“That’s not my problem.” Chloe walks away so abruptly, steps so heavy it makes Beca jump. She’s digging through the trunk that sits at the foot of their bed and pulls out Beca’s duffel bag to toss it onto the bed. “Pack. And get the rest of your shit out before the end of the month whenever I’m not here or I’m throwing it all away.”

Beca’s sure this must be what it feels like for the earth to swallow one whole. Her world’s been ripped out from beneath her feet.

The thing is, it’s her fault. She can’t argue that it’s not. She could have tried harder, not allowed herself to grow complacent. Chloe was someone who loves with her entire being, every inch of her soul. And Beca adores her. Loves her. But she has struggled to keep up with just how much Chloe needs from her in return for all the love she gives Beca. Truth be told, it’s scared the shit out of Beca since the day they exchanged their first ‘I love yous.’ She had even prefaced her confession by saying she will probably mess it all up.

Fucking self-fulfilling prophecies.

“I’m going for a walk,” Chloe says as she pushes past Beca more physically than necessary. “Don’t be here when I get back.”

When the door slams behind her, Beca fights the urge to crumple onto their bed and weep. They’d just made love on it this morning and she thinks if she touches it, it may burn her flesh.

Instead, she grabs the bag Chloe threw onto it and starts stuffing clothes and toiletries into it. Her head pounds and her chest aches with the need to sob but she won’t give this tiny apartment, their first home together as a couple. She fills the bag until she can’t zip it and throws her laptop into its case to swing them both over her shoulder.

On her way out the door, she rips a photo of the two of them in front of their Christmas tree last year off the fridge—not to destroy it, but to stuff it into her bag.

She wonders if Chloe will even notice it’s gone.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Beca takes the train into Manhattan. Brooklyn feels too small, too familiar. She wants the city to swallow her since the earth only pretended to. She doesn’t have a single New York-based contact in her phone except for the ramen house Chloe and she love and the main number for her office. She doesn’t particularly like her job and has made no effort to get to know anyone there. 

In the future, she’ll realize this could be a theme in her life.

She ends up at a hotel by Union Square. She can’t afford it. It’s nearly $200 for the night and it goes on an already precariously charged-up credit card. She’ll move to a hostel tomorrow; tonight, she needs privacy and space and the freedom to have the breakdown she’s been staving off for the two hours it’s been since Chloe told her it was over and threw her out of their home.

Once she gets to her room, she drops her bags on the floor and immediately throws up.

It’s the longest night of Beca’s life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She doesn’t get the rest of her belongings back. She’s living in a hostel in a room she shares with five other people, at least one of which is new every night. She has to wait her turn to use the bathroom and to shower and most of the time, there’s no hot water.

The good thing, she supposes as she tries day after day to find a single good thing in her life, is that at $35 per day, she can actually afford her room and board and even feed herself twice a day and keep her phone bill paid.

Thank God for ubiquitous free WiFi.

But that one good thing, just keeping herself in room and board, doesn’t do anything to outweigh all the bad.

She hasn’t spoken to or heard from Chloe in two months. There was no final warning about coming to get her belongings or they’d be trashed. Chloe hasn’t checked in with her a single time.

Not that Beca’s reached out to Chloe either.

She’d thought escaping Brooklyn would help protect herself. Far from away all their usual haunts, she would be safer from the constant reminders of all the moments she and Chloe shared in the year-and-a-half they spent living together there.

Instead, she’s faced with bigger reminders in Manhattan. So many date nights spent there at restaurants and concert venues and theatres and sunset strolls through parks.

“Oh, my gosh, baby, this is so romantic, we have to take a selfie,” Chloe said as she grabbed Beca’s hands to spin them in a circle that almost had Beca tripping over her own feet. “Wait, no! Excuse me, sir?” Chloe asked a passerby. “Would you take our picture, please?”

“Sure,” he said as Chloe handed him her phone. “Tell me when.”

“Just take a bunch,” Chloe answered before Beca had even had a chance to weakly and pointlessly protest the impromptu photoshoot.

Then they were kissing on Gapstow Bridge with Central Park and the New York skyline behind them and Beca forgot why she would ever want to protest such a thing.

She can’t even walk through Times Square without her eyes pricking with tears at the memory of Chloe dragging Beca up the red stairs in the middle of a snowstorm to take a selfie at the top while they kissed wearing beanies and scarves and gloves.

The photo came out looking like they were in a snow globe and felt as magical as it looked. It’s saved in her favorites on her phone, but she refuses to let herself look through that album.

Even when she’s alone at night in a strange place that is her home but feels nothing like it, Chloe is everywhere. She can feel her phantom arms around her waist to pull Beca back against her to settle into sleep. In the shower, her hands travel over her body and she remembers all the times and all the ways Chloe has touched her here, and here, and here.

Alcohol doesn’t help, though Beca gives it her best shot.

It leads to her waking up in the beds of people whose names she only sometimes remembers.

A man she goes home with makes her leave when she won’t stop crying when he tries to touch her.

A woman she goes home with spends the night holding her. They even have sex, finally, in the early hours of the morning. But all Beca can think about is how it’s not right. How she isn’t Chloe and she doesn’t know how to touch Beca as Chloe does. It does nothing to help Beca forget or move on. In fact, it only makes her miss Chloe more.

She stops trying to escape into other people and goes back to drinking alone. It’s cheaper that way, too, which is a nice bonus. One bottle of whiskey runs her $40 which gives her far more drinks for her dollar compared to going to bars.

Eventually, she finds someone in need of a roommate through a coworker and she has a room to herself in Washington Heights. Her roommate is nice, a few years older than Beca, and works for the city’s child services department. She’s a good listener on the rare occasions Beca confides in her when her emotions become too much to take alone.

It turns into a relationship of convenience. They both acknowledge that’s what it is and that they’re setting themselves up for disaster if (when) it ends because someone (Beca) is going to have to move out when things become too messy.

But until that happens, it’s nice to feel at least somewhat normal again. She doesn’t feel like she’s ready to fall apart if someone looks at her the wrong way on the street.

She still thinks about Chloe at least once every minute when she’s conscious.

And usually, even when she’s not.

She knows she’s fixating. It’s too hard to not spend as much energy as she can berating herself for messing up and losing Chloe. It’s delicious torture to hate herself so much and replay the details of every moment of their relationship and pick out every time she fucked up and think about how she could have done it differently, how she would do it differently if she had the chance.

What’s most irritating of all is that there is no one singular cataclysmic event she can blame. It was her series of micro-aggressions, so seemingly small (to Beca), that piled up until replying to Chloe’s multi-scroll-long text message telling Beca that she needed more from her with “k” got her thrown out on the street.

And she knew—knows—she deserved it.

She wishes she could go back in time and slap herself and tell her to get her shit together before she loses the best thing to ever happen to her.

But she can’t. She keeps drinking and it’s never enough to forget Chloe.

Eventually, her behavior lands her out on her ass again, but this time, she expects it. What girl wants her not-girlfriend crying about her ex every time they have sex? At least there’s a discussion first and she’s allowed a couple of weeks to find a new place to live.

A year has passed since she fucked up her relationship with Chloe but, somehow, she’s managed to get her professional life into something resembling moderate success. She’s surprised when she downloads bank statements at the balance in her account to have when she goes apartment hunting. She’s done nothing but pay rent to her now-ex-roommate and buy what few things she’s needed to get by (mostly alcohol). She thinks she remembers an email from HR about a bonus or royalty payout around Christmas…?

It affords her the ability to get her own apartment, a one-bedroom in Harlem.

It also affords her the freedom to indulge in all her vices without someone passing judgment. She can drink herself to blackout. She can have anonymous sex. She can cry until she’s sick or lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling all night in a drug-and-alcohol-induced stupor. None of it really matters, anyway.

She fits right in with the people she’s finding herself forced to be around more often. She gets wasted with colleagues and A-listers under the guise of networking. She impresses men with her ability to out-drink them despite her stature. And if one of them offers cocaine? She can be the last one standing in the early hours of the morning.

She prides herself on her endurance, though not more than she prides herself on the fact that no matter how hammered she gets, not once has she drunk-dialed Chloe to beg forgiveness.

She hasn’t dialed her at all, for that matter.

She’s never apologized.

She wants to point out that showing up at her former apartment building when it’s dark and the streets are empty repeatedly pressing the buzzer for what used to be her apartment is not drunk-dialing nor drunk-texting.

“Hello?” Chloe’s voice crackles through the shitty speaker and Beca slumps against the wall next to the metal intercom at the sound of it. “Is anyone there? I swear if you kids are pulling this shit again, I’m calling the cops.”

Beca laughs to herself, memories of a group of teenagers that roams the neighborhood raising havoc of the relatively painless variety. Things like Ding Dong Ditch and hiding delivered packages from their recipients. It always infuriated Chloe and made Beca laugh and tell her to calm down, they’re just kids and they could be getting into much worse kinds of trouble.

She considers continuing to ring the buzzer just to keep Chloe on the line; it’s been so long since she’s heard her voice. Maybe she could just sleep on the building’s stoop?

She’s still thinking about it when she hears the familiar squeak of the door opening.

“Beca?”

She wonders if maybe she finally passed out to slip into dreamland because Chloe’s standing in front of her in plaid sleep shorts and Beca’s favorite vintage David Bowie tee.

“Hey, babe,” she slurs.

“What are you doing here?” Chloe takes half a step out of the door and starts to reach for her but stops short. “Are you drunk?”

“What if I am?” she says as she pushes herself away from the wall to stand upright again, though everything feels like it’s tilting. She points. “That’s my shirt.”

Chloe crosses her arms over her chest as if that will hide it. “I asked what you’re doing here.”

Beca has to think hard. She doesn’t remember how she got to Brooklyn. She doesn’t know what time it is. “I’m tired,” she answers. “I came home.”

“You don’t live here anymore.”

“I didn’t say I live here. I said I came home.” She tries to walk forward but trips and finds herself caught by Chloe before she hurts herself. “Cat-like reflexes,” she says with a chuckle before catching the scent of the laundry detergent and lotion Chloe always uses and the tears come out of nowhere.

She’s vaguely aware that Chloe’s helping her walk and it’s up the stairs and into the apartment they once shared, not out to the curb.

The last thought that passes through her mind as Chloe helps her into what was always Beca’s side of the bed is that even through her blurry vision she can see a picture on the refrigerator. A copy of the same photo she’d taken with her the day Chloe had thrown her out, placed in the exact place the original had been for so long.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She wakes to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Her head throbs but not too painfully; she rarely gets hungover these days. She knows where she is. She knows the feel of the bed, the softness of the sheets, the scent of breakfast and the sound of the quiet tings and thuds of cabinets opening and closing, of plates, mugs, spoons, and knives.

She doesn’t want to open her eyes. Maybe if she pretends to be asleep she could stay there all day without having to be embarrassed by her actions. She can just hold onto this unexpected return to a past life for a few more minutes before it’s ripped away from her again.

She starts when the sound of a mug being placed on the nightstand near her head comes unexpectedly.

“Morning,” Chloe’s quiet, husky morning voice whispers as she sits on the edge of the bed next to Beca.

Beca grimaces and pulls the covers up over her head. “No.”

“I have to go to work.” Beca didn’t even think about the fact that it was a weekday. Her own schedule doesn’t conform to the typical Monday-through-Friday model. “But I’m going to call out sick for the afternoon and come back at lunch.”

Beca slips the covers down until they’re under her chin. She knows she looks like shit but Chloe looks more beautiful than she remembers her.

“You can stay here until then. Help yourself to breakfast. We’ll talk when I get home, okay?”

Beca just nods, afraid that anything more than that will wake her from whatever dream she’s having. She feels Chloe’s hand on her leg, a brief touch before she’s leaving too soon.

Beca watches her gather her things and leave the apartment, locking it with her keys.

She knows she should go back to sleep. Sleep off the last bits of the drunkenness she can still feel swimming in her. But she’s been thrown back into her old life, her old home, and like so many mornings, Chloe’s just gone to work after making coffee for Beca.

Slowly, she sits up to take in her surroundings. The small studio looks much like she’s remembered it. There’s a lot more of Chloe in it now, though. More photos of her and friends Beca’s never met. The band posters Beca had insisted on putting up have been replaced with generic canvas prints from Target that feature the Eiffel Tower and a recreation of a poster for la tournée du Chat Noir avec Rodolphe Salis. It makes her smile; Chloe’s always had an obsession with Paris and it had only gotten worse after they went to Denmark—but not France—in college.

Driven by her roiling stomach she forces herself out of bed. When she stands, she has to do a double-take looking down at herself. She’s not wearing the clothes she’d left her apartment in yesterday. She’s not even wearing pants. Her legs are bare and she plucks at the shirt she’s wearing to see it’s one of her old concert tees.

A memory flashes of last night, of Chloe in the doorway wearing Beca’s shirt.

It makes her feel lightheaded and she reaches for the coffee Chloe’s left bedside before crossing the room to the kitchen. Everything’s still in the same place and it’s mindless yet spine-tingling to go through the motions of finding something to eat in that room just as she’s done countless times in the past.

She plops down at the small table that she once imagined proposing to Chloe over on a Sunday morning over a cozy winter brunch they prepared together and is about to dig into her bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch that Chloe miraculously has on-hand despite claiming to hate it when she freezes, spoon halfway to her mouth.

On the clothing rack in the middle of the room, the one they had to fight over for valuable space, hang all of Beca’s clothes she’d left behind when she was forced to flee.

Her chair screeches as she pushes it back to rush over and quickly flip through the blouses, pants, and dresses she hasn’t seen in more than a year. She tugs open the third and then fourth drawers of the dresser they shared to find them both still stuffed full of underwear, bras, socks, tank tops, shorts, and Beca’s beanies and gloves she’d really missed that winter. She drops to her knees and reaches under the bed to find the sharp plastic edge of a storage bin and pulls it out. All her shoes, still in their place.

If not for the changes in decor, she would believe she never left. Nothing has changed since her last morning with Chloe.

It’s overwhelming. Chloe had threatened to throw everything away if Beca never picked it up. Beca never did, but Chloe didn’t follow through.

Her head swims and her eyes prick with tears. She thinks she might be sick from the rush of emotions and adrenaline; Chloe hadn’t tossed their life in the trash even though she’d tossed Beca to the curb.

She isn’t sick, though. Instead, she strips off her shirt and crawls into the bathtub and turns on the shower to sit under the spray and cry.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Beca’s heart races when she hears Chloe’s keys in the hallway seconds before they rattle in the lock. She watches the door open slowly, Chloe peeking in carefully until they find Beca sitting at the table.

“You’re awake,” she says as she enters with less care now that Beca’s not asleep. “Did you find something to eat? I brought lunch just in case.”

Beca’s eyes drop to the bag in Chloe’s hand; there are familiar round plastic take-out containers stacked in it and Beca doesn’t have to ask to know it’s from the ramen place they frequented. “I did, yeah.”

Chloe sets the bag on the table and Beca watches her take off and hang up her coat. When she turns back around, she pauses. “Oh.”

Beca wonders what she’s looking at until she realizes it’s Beca’s clothes. “You didn’t throw my stuff away.”

Chloe takes a break as though she’s about to speak but instead she sighs and says nothing in reply as she sits down in her chair to Beca’s left and starts unpacking the lunch she’s brought.

Beca catches her hand when it’s busy setting up soup and sides and Chloe’s entire body seems to flinch, but she doesn’t pull her hand away. “You didn’t throw me away, did you.”

Tears are welling in Chloe’s eyes when they meet Beca’s but she still doesn’t speak.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Beca rushes when she realizes she’s the one who has to do the talking. “But I do. Will you hear me out? Give me ten minutes. Five.”

“Okay,” Chloe says quietly as she pulls her hand back to resume passing out utensils.

Beca waits until she’s finished, until Chloe’s no longer distracting herself with busywork and her eyes land on Beca nervously so she can finally say, “I’m sorry, Chloe.”

The End

[nat-roman0ff]

i. the first 45 seconds of your life

the here and now; sequel to another certain time and place (read the full series in my masterlist)

i. the first 45 seconds of your life the one where they begin wc: 2,776 warnings: smut (oral), burnt chicken & fading time

---

“I’m in love with you.” 

 Her whole body freezes in place, and she isn’t quite sure what to say or do or any of that because her mind is too busy short circuiting over the words that just came out of Shawn’s mouth.

 She continues to stare blankly at him while Shawn’s eyes search her face for any kind of recognition of his words. He’s only met with a blank stare in her eyes, and the color systematically draining out of her face. She tilts her head, and he thinks she’s about to say something but she stops herself. Finally, her brows furrow, and it’s the first sign of life he’s seen in her face in the last forty-five seconds since he dropped those final words. 

 “I’m in love with you too,” she says. And the world is right again. 

---

 Their world had been a cotton candy cloud of happiness, making their friends vomit at their disgusting love for each other, and spending a lot of time in the bedroom (and the kitchen, and the shower, and the sofa…). 

 Being in love, rules, Shawn thinks while he watches her precisely put on her mascara in the bathroom vanity mirror. He smiles when her mouth opens ever so slightly in that little O-shape that he knows she can’t help. She leans back to stand up straight and blinks twice, dabbing away an imprint of black on the tops of her cheek. 

 “If you keep standing there and staring I might press charges,” she says, turning her head to him and smiling.

 “Yeah?” he says, folding his arms across his chest while he leans against the doorframe of the bathroom, “What kind of charges are we talking?” 

 She pops her lips, swiping a bit of gloss along her bottom lip, “well, definitely for being a creep, and slightly obsessed with me.” 

 “Not at all a lie,” Shawn grins. 

 She twists the tube of her gloss tight, “and probably being super hella cute and a giant fucking cheeseball.” 

 She trails across the bathroom on her tiptoes to him, leaving a sticky, shiny, strawberry scented lip print on his cheek, “and for definitely having the best dick in Toronto.” 

 Shawn’s sloppy smile widens across his face and then fades, “wait, how many dicks in Toronto have you seen?” 

 His girlfriend shimmies past him and into their shared bedroom. She’s more or less moved in with him over the past few weeks. He swears it’s a quicker commute for her to work (it’s not) and that his coffee shop is better than hers (maybe it is, but it also costs double the price on this side of town). She always keeps two extra work outfits in his closet, and a spare toothbrush, just in case. He even bought the same shampoo and conditioner as her so she can always be ready to spend the night.

 Shawn watches her dress, observing as her hands smooth out the wrinkles in the skirt of her dress, turning in the mirror to make sure it falls the right way. She tucks on a pair of heels and stands in front of the mirror, taking in a deep breath to hold herself high and proud before releasing it and relaxing her shoulders. 

 “I don’t want to go to work today.” 

 Shawn stands and wraps his arms around her from behind, “too bad, one of us has to pay the bills around here,” he kisses a bit of her exposed shoulder and then rests his chin on it to look at her through the mirror, “just know if you do need to quit your job, I can help you out in the meantime.” 

 She rolls her eyes and slithers out of his grasp, “not everyone gets to do what they love at twenty-one, Shawn. Just because I hate my job now doesn’t mean I’m going to hate it forever. It’s a good stepping stone, I have to pay my dues before I can get to where I want to be.” 

 “I know that, babe,” he leans against the dresser beside them, “I just don’t like seeing you miserable.” 

 She rolls her eyes again, “I’m not miserable Shawn. Far from it. But I will be miserable if you don’t get me a bottle of wine and some takeout tonight,” she gives him a peck on the lips, “now I really have to go.” 

 It’s a pretty mundane Friday for Shawn when she leaves. He goes to the gym, eats breakfast, drinks his coffee, takes a shower, does some laundry. It’s mundane and everyday and routine But it’s so fucking nice to be bored every once and a while. Although he was never bored with her. Sure, they could be bored, laying on the couch scrolling through their phones and not saying anything, but so long as she was there, he was never bored. 

 Mundane was a nice sort of calm between being in a different city every night and sleeping on a cramped bus with three other people. But time was getting away from them, he thought about the last weeks they had together, alone. They had four more days before the next leg of tour started and he had to leave her behind. Neither had spoken about it, they just watched as the sand in the hour glass dwindled and they weren’t ready for the next two months apart. Sure, they’d done it before as friends, but it was different now. Shawn had never felt such a cosmic closeness to someone before, his body was different when she wasn’t around.

 On the other side of Toronto, she drags her feet into the office building she regrets to call work. It’s not all bad, except for her bitchy boss and coworkers who love nothing more than to make her feel inadequate. But she constantly reminds herself how lucky she is to be here, and that this situation isn’t permanent.

 At lunchtime, a deliveryman stops at her cubicle with a sunflower floral arrangement. She plucks up the card and of course they’re from Shawn. She giggles at the message he’s written her and blushes when she thinks about the poor person at the florist shop that had to write it.

 Hey sexy!

 I hope your Friday is as wonderful as you are. I already miss you even though you just left. I can’t wait to see you tonight and eat you out like four times. See you soon. 

 Shawn (aka love daddy)

 She covers her mouth to stifle a snort and arranges the flowers on her desk. The rest of the day comes easy with the promise of coming home to Shawn. What she wasn’t looking forward to was his departure in four days. He’d finally (sort of) given up on asking her to come with him on tour. It was terrible timing and would put too much of a dent in her life right now - it just wasn’t cohesive. It was the last leg, so the worst of it was over and she had to remember that there were only a few more months to go until he was home in time for the holidays. 

 Of course, there would be more tours, award shows, promo, trips to the studio, music videos, and everything else that came with being Shawn that would keep them away. But their cotton candy cloud was too big and sweet right now to burst. 

 ---

 Her insides scream sweet relief when the clock stikes 5pm and it’s time to go home to Shawn. She mutters obscenities to herself as she wrestles with the oversized floral arrangement on her walk home. Luckily it’s not far and when the elevator door opens to his floor she’s met with the smell of something burning and a smoke alarm blaring. 

 Shawn tried to cook again.

 “Oh honey you’re already home!” He coughs as he tries to clear the smoke in the kitchen by waving an oven mit and dish towel around. 

 She chuckles and sets the flowers on the counter as the scent of burnt chicken fills her nostrils. She sees the sizzling, smoky pan in the sink with what looks like charcoal stuck onto it. 

 “You really didn’t have to,” she laughs, “in fact, please don’t ever do it again.” 

 His arms stop waving and he pouts. The alarm finally silences and Shawn shakes his head to clear the ringing in his ears, “I was just trying to do something nice.” 

 She hops off the chair of the kitchen island and saunters towards him, placing a hand on his chest, “while I appreciate the effort, you are completely helpless in the kitchen. But I still love you for it.”

 “I guess I can’t be good at everything,” he says, swishing a layer of invisible hair over his shoulder.

 She punches his shoulder, “so what should we have? Pizza or Chinese?” 

 He gets that look in his eye, “I’d rather have you first.” 

 She squeaks when the cold granite countertop hits the backs of her thighs. Shawn’s mouth is on her before she has a half second to process what’s happening. He’s been waiting for her all day ever since he came across a pair of her black lacy underwear while doing laundry. He couldn’t get the image of the way they sit across her hips out of his fucking head since lunchtime and now that she was home he couldn’t wait to devour her.

 His lips are fast and hungry against hers. She contorts her body a little in an attempt to pull off her heels, Shawn’s hand grabs her wrist, “keep them on,” he says with a bite to her ear, he kisses down the hollow part of her throat and across her chest to just where her dress crosses her breasts in a V-shape, “and lay back.” 

 She moves slowly to ensure there’s nothing behind her. Her head barely stays on the counter, her hair waterfalling over the edge. She lets her arms fall back too and relishes in the feeling of Shawn taking control. He wastes no time reaching under her dress, letting his fingers tiptoe the thin straps of her underwear before hooking them around his index fingers. 

 Shawn slows down for a second, taking his time as he tugs the fabric down her soft thighs. He thinks of how much he’s going to fucking miss this on tour and there’s no amount of FaceTime and handywork that will make up for the feeling of her skin under his. He’s obsessed with the way she feels, with every dip and dimple, every tiger stripe of faded stretched out skin - everything that made her uniquely for him. 

 He finally pushes the fabric past her manicured toes and slingshots it into the living room, she watches as it flies over the couch and behind it to that lost space between the sofa and wall. 

 “Hey!” She says sitting up, “you’re gonna fish those out later, buddy.” 

 Shawn just smiles and holds her face in his hand and gives her the softest kiss. He breaks away and walks to the fridge to pull out the wine she’d requested this morning. He opens the cork with ease and takes a sip from the bottle before handing it to her.

 “Oh so it’s a drink straight out of the bottle kind of night, huh?” She asks, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand after taking too big a sip. 

 Shawn just replies with another ferocious kiss, his mouth tastes like the grapes of her favorite wine and she rests her hands low on his hips. He places a palm on her sternum and nudges her back. She gets the hint and lays back flat against the granite countertop. Shawn’s hand works slowly down her front, cupping her heat and letting the fabric create some much warranted friction. 

 She lets out a breathless moan at the contact and bites down hard on her lip. He does it again, and makes sure to hit her sensitive bundle of nerves and she bucks her hips up into him. When he moves his hand away from her she pouts and he wants to kiss that pout right off her face but resists doing so, the alternative is much better. 

 He bunches the fabric of her dress in his fist and pulls up, revealing her bare half to him. His tongue involuntarily swipes over his bottom lip and he feels his pants tighten. She can feel the cold air hit her in the most devine way. Shawn drops to his knees and places each of her legs over his shoulders. 

 “Missed you,” he whispers. 

 She laughs, “are you talking to me or my vagina?” 

 “I’m not going to answer that question.” 

 He feels her body shake with laughter, but calms it the moment his lips hit her knee. Shawn kisses slowly up the inside of her leg, past dimples and faded stripes of rippled skin. He places a single kiss above her heat before working, moving to work up the other side, he wants to leave no patch of skin unloved, un-worshiped. 

 Her fingers thread through the curls at the top of his head when he nears closer to her center and he knows she’s more than ready for it now. He slides her forward just a bit more on the counter (he’d almost chipped a tooth on the granite when he tried this last week). She tugs at his hair to encourage him, her whole body shivering the moment his tongue takes the first lap of her core. 

 She lets out a breathy fuck to disguise the moan as he picks up the pace. He starts with his usual figure eights, the condo silent except for her gasping, muted moans and the sound of Shawn’s tongue against her soaked center. 

 The sharp of her heels dig into his shoulders as he adds two fingers to enter her. Her hand leaves his hair to grab at anything she can, her nails scratching against the hard surface of the countertop when she’d normally ball a fist of sheets in her hand. Shawn watches her chest heave as he steadies his rhythm; lips sucking at her tender bud, long fingers curling inside of her to reach that one spot. 

 A warm spot in her lower body begins to boil over and burn her skin from toe to fingertip. She can feel it crawl up her chest and into her cheeks, painting them his favorite shade of pink. The lower part of her body twitches under him but he’s quick to hold her down with the palm his hand, tutting her along the way.

 “Shawn I’m so so so so so close,” she breathes, digging her heels even harder into his shoulders but he’s too into it to care about the searing pain. 

 He releases her with a wet pop of his lips, “just let go whenever you’re ready.” 

 She takes a deep breath but it’s cut off when his tongue does overtime on her. Too sensitive to take it, she lets her orgasm crash over her with an arch of her back and a moan that echoes throughout the condo.

 Shawn stands and leans over her body to kiss her forehead, “stay here, I’ll be right back.” 

 She nods, too fucked to even think straight about it. He gives her time to recover while he runs to the bathroom to wet a washcloth with warm water. When he returns, he runs it softly up her inner thighs, cleaning up the dampness from her arousal mixed with his spit. She quivers when he runs it gently across her sensitive core and covers her back up with the skirt of her dress.

 “I need some help up, you destroyed me,” she groans, wiggling her fingers at him. 

 Shawn chuckles and grabs her hand to sit her up straight. Her hair is a mess, and her cheeks are still prickled with his favorite pink and he’s not sure how he managed to live this long without telling her he’s in love with her.

 “So, pizza or Chinese?” He asks, repeating her question from earlier.

 She grabs him by the collar of his shirt and pulls him in between her legs, “oh no, you’re next.”

 ---

 heyyyyyyyyy! so this is the first chapter to the sequel of a certain time and place! i love all the beautiful responses i got from the last series. this chapter is moreso of a drop in, we have a LONG way to go with these guys and i’m excited to share it with y’all! drop a reblog, reply or ask if you enjoyed :) 

[ayellowcurtain]

can you do a lukes mob au 🤡 lucas is payment to kes mob for his dad’s debt and kes enjoys his prizes // Can you write something with kes and lucas please? // Spare us some Lukes?

Winter has never been so cold. It has been snowing for almost two days now. There’s nobody outside, no cars driving through the streets, there are no bikes parked outside the houses. Kes is starting to lose his mind, stuck inside the house for another day.

His birthday is tomorrow and there’s nothing going on. He was planning to throw a huge, mind-blowing, over the top party, inviting the whole city to celebrate with him, but there’s no way it’s still happening. Everyone is stuck inside, not really feeling like facing a snowstorm for a party.

Weirdly, his house is completely silent. It’s a huge house, people can be at the other side of the house and he’s not hearing, but Kes is almost sure he’s alone with the employees. His dad, his uncle and two of his brothers left days ago. Kes didn’t ask where they were going because he knew if he did, his dad would ask him to go with them. And for now, Kes is trying to stay out of the family business.

He’s just happy he can smoke and drink and party and be reckless and never get caught because nobody in this city would have the balls to arrest him. For now, he enjoys the good part, letting the adults deal with the actual mess. He’ll waste half of his life taking care of the business in a few years, so he might as well enjoy the freedom while he can.

His mom and sisters are probably in the kitchen, but Kes doesn’t feel like checking on them. His grandparents are probably in their house, but there’s a huge yard in between the houses so he can’t go there either.

Thankfully, his mini-fridge inside his bedroom suite is full of beers and snacks and sandwiches that one of the chefs probably made and got someone to put inside his fridge for him. So it’s not a big deal. Kes throws himself back in his bed, scrolling through Instagram for probably longer than what’s healthy.

No matter how bad the weather is tomorrow, he’ll do something.

-

He wakes up to someone annoyingly shaking his leg, the movement getting rougher as he doesn’t fully wake up to answer.

“Fucking hell, what is it?” He opens his eyes to meet his dad, standing there, not looking too happy with his choice of words. Kes’ entire body freezes for a second, apologizing, but his dad ignores it. He suddenly looks in a good mood, stepping away.

“Get up. I have a surprise for you.” Kes doesn’t feel like waking up. He’s still half asleep, still feeling the taste of beer in his tongue. What a lame night, getting drunk on his own, locked inside his bedroom. His dad is still there so he shoves his comforter to the side, getting up to put some clothes on. He knows his dad wasn’t really asking, he doesn’t have a choice but to go to wherever his dad wants him to be.

He can hear all the voices downstairs from the hall, very differently from the eerie thing that was going on last night. All his siblings, his mom, and his uncles are gathered in the main living room, drinking something and talking to a stranger that’s right in the middle of their circle.

They all turn around at once and Kes can really see the only person he wasn’t recognizing. It’s the most angelical creature.

The boy is maybe a few years younger. Taller Skinnier. He’s wearing some comfortable clothes, jeans that are a little too loose for him, a dark green zip-up hoodie with the hood sitting at top of his head, letting Kes notice his light brown curls turning over his hood, framing his pale face, with the bluest eyes and thin, peachy lips that turn into a heart shape as he pouts a little, clearly annoyed to have all this attention on him so early in the day.

“Kes, this is your new friend…” His dad put his hand on Kes’ shoulder and he flinches at the sudden touch.

“Lucas.” The boy answers, not at all enthusiastic about it.

“Lucas!” His dad repeats like he cares, looking from Kes to Lucas. Kes looks at his dad, trying to understand what this is all about. “I brought him to celebrate your big day with you!”

Kes swallows hard, looking at his little sister trying to talk to Lucas, but he’s clearly uncomfortable, giving her very basic answers. He looks at his younger brother, still sitting on the couch, staring at the boy in front of him, obviously knowing Lucas is not a friend, but playing dumb. Kes wishes he could do that too, but he knows a little too much to ignore what Lucas really is. 

This is what Kes hates the most about this...job. His dad and all the adults do everything in front of the whole family, letting the kids see as they bring a stranger to their home like he’s an object that could be bought.

What the fuck?

How can someone give such a perfect human being as a payment?

Kes nods his head, smiling to his dad as a thank you, going to say good morning to every member of his family, lastly shaking Lucas’ hand, introducing himself.

Nobody says a word about it, but Lucas follows Kes everywhere, all day long. He’s not the type to talk, but he’s constantly around Kes, carefully watching everything he does.

It’s a long, weird day. Kes constantly forgets that it’s his birthday, but his mom planned something. There are people getting in and out of the house, spreading snow all over the ridiculously expensive rugs his mom put all over their home, bringing tables and chairs inside, moving most of the expensive furniture to the shed at the back of their house, never looking to the sides or talking to anyone except their coworkers.

There’s a fancy family dinner before the not-such-a-surprise party. Everyone is wearing their best clothes, with cute dresses and tuxedos. Kes borrowed some of his clothes for Lucas, it’s a little too short, but it doesn’t look too bad.

Kes was trying to pick what to wear when Lucas took most of his clothes off right there, in the middle of Kes’ room, not at all embarrassed to be on his underwear in front of him. Kes couldn’t help but peek at his perfectly sculptured abs and how he’s so at ease in his own skin.

He didn’t want to take a shower before dinner, he whispered while looking down that he would do that later, before the actual party.

As they ate with the whole family, Kes’ phone wouldn’t stop vibrating in his pocket, probably Jayden, Noah and everyone else excited to party. Kes wasn’t expecting any gifts - other than Lucas - but he did ask for Jayden to bring the best weed he could find, Kes would pay him later.

While the maids take the leftovers to the kitchen and his family gets ready to go to his uncle’s place for the night, Kes takes Lucas back to his bedroom upstairs.

“Hm, I don’t have any spare clothes for now…” Lucas finally says and Kes looks at him, he hadn’t heard him talk in hours. And obviously, Lucas doesn’t have clothes beside the one he was using earlier and he wants to take a shower.

“Shit, of course. You can have some of mine, I have way too many clothes.” Kes turns around to go to his closet, trying to think of clothes that can fit Lucas a little better than the tuxedo. It has been years since Kes cleaned his closet. His mom doesn’t bother him about it anymore, too worried about his sister, the princess of the family.

The last part of his closet is filled with clothes Kes usually forgets he owns so he grabs as many hangers as he can hug, dragging back to his bedroom, leaving everything on his bed.

“You can choose. Whatever you want, it’s yours.” Lucas opens his eyes wide, absently walking closer, gently touching the clothes.

“This is more than my whole wardrobe back home.” He explains as he carefully just looks through everything. Kes smiles, throwing himself on his bed.

“Really? You can have it, all of it.”

As Lucas goes through the clothes, Kes searches through the drawer on the nightstand on his side of the bed. His last joint is hidden in the back, with a lighter. 

He sits on the bench his mom put in between the two doors that go to his balcony, lighting his joint, patiently waiting for Lucas.

After almost five minutes, he quietly chooses a white shirt, putting to the side as he grabs black jeans, checking if it matches the shirt. It does, but Kes doesn’t say it, hoping Lucas chooses whatever he wants to wear, not caring if Kes likes it or not.

Once he’s done picking, putting everything else on top of each other, Lucas grabs his brand new clothes and goes to Kes’ bathroom, slowly closing the door, not making a single noise.

Kes checks his phone again, with no new message from Jayden. He enjoys every inhale breathe, filling his brain and lungs, taking the edge off of everything. 

Lucas is safe, as long as Kes can keep him out of his dad’s hands and the snow finally gave him a break, letting him enjoy at least the last few hours of his day.

Times passes like in the blink of an eye. Lucas is coming out of the bathroom, buttoning his shirt when Kes hears loud noises coming from downstairs. Jayden is screaming his name and Kes laughs, getting up, rushing out of his bedroom to find a completely different house.

The main lights are off, as Kes looks downstairs, everyone he knows is getting inside, bringing a bunch of golden balloons with them, there are waiters walking around, offering everyone drinks, the music starts playing a second later. He looks back to his bedroom, Lucas at the door, the white lights from his bedroom giving him an aura as he tries to fix his damp hair, looking back at Kes. 

Happy fucking birthday, Kes.

[pettybkang]

I’M FINE

Group: Victon

Pairing: Y/N + Seungwoo.

Genre: Secret dating!AU 

Word count: 2k+

Description: Seungwoo isn’t perfect. He likes spicy food way too much and turns the AC on too high at night. He also works as a dance teacher, which doesn’t pay that well and happens to scream too loud whenever he gets excited. He works out too early in the morning and likes to video call Y/N right after - waking her up earlier than she would like. But the thing is… She loves him. She loves his sleepy voice in the morning, even though it’s early. She loves his weird fashion sense and sometimes even his bucket hats and the hair that falls on his eyes. She loves his voice and it doesn’t really matter how loud it gets. She loves every single thing about him.

Bella’s boyfriend is perfect. And Y/N hates him for it. 

Sejun has a very stable job - that pays really really well -, he doesn’t steal Bella from her best friend on the weekends and he dresses pretty much like a celebrity. He also doesn’t look that bad. He drives them both to cities nearby whenever they want to and he gives Bella pretty expensive wine - which she always shares with Y/N. He also introduced Bella to what became Y/N’s favorite restaurant. 

There’s not a single thing wrong with the man. He has money, good taste and makes her friend happy. 

And maybe that’s the reason Y/N has been hiding her own boyfriend from Bella for months. 

The girls met when they were teenagers and have been friends ever since. Now older than their early twenties, with their own places to live and jobs to work at, they are best friends. Bella has always been the one that would date - she has had more girlfriends and boyfriends that one can count in a hand and she’s not ashamed of it - so it wasn’t a surprise when Bella introduced Sejun to Y/N - did the older one think this relationship wouldn’t last and Bella would be tired of him in three months? Maybe. Sejun is a Taurus, stubborn, aesthetic pleasing and has a great taste for food. He likes to sleep and cuddle a lot more than he lets out and is great at everything he sets his mind on. Maybe it was their stubbornness that kept them together, but when Y/N realized they had been together for two years. 

And that’s when she met Seungwoo. 

Seungwoo isn’t perfect. He likes spicy food way too much and turns the AC on too high at night. He also works as a dance teacher, which doesn’t pay that well and happens to scream too loud whenever he gets excited. He works out too early in the morning and likes to video call Y/N right after - waking her up earlier than she would like. But the thing is… She loves him. She loves his sleepy voice in the morning, even though it’s early. She loves his weird fashion sense and sometimes even his bucket hats and the hair that falls on his eyes. She loves his voice and it doesn’t really matter how loud it gets. She loves every single thing about him. 

But he isn’t perfect. And she has known Sejun for years now. 

It’s hard not to compare them. 

So in a desperate need to overthink every single one of her decisions, she asked Seungwoo to keep them a secret from now. She has told Bella she’s taking culinary classes on Fridays and that’s the reason they can’t meet anymore… Her friend bought the excuse right away. At first, it was supposed to be a month only thing and then she would tell her. But then Sejun got promoted. And then Sejun bought her a bottle of Moët. And then Sejun took her to Paris… It was impossible to compete. And a month turned into five. 

It was getting harder and harder to hide her boyfriend from her best friend. 

Bella would invite her to her place on the weekend and Y/N would have to come up with crazy excuses because Seungwoo was supposed to spend the weekend over at her place. Or Bella would invite her for dinner and she would have to come up with a last-minute excuse to work late. 

It was even harder because Bella and Seungwoo lived in the same neighborhood. Two streets away from each other. She would always pray Bella wouldn’t see her on the street, walking to Seungwoo’s place and not hers on a Saturday afternoon. 

But one day what Y/N feared the most happened. 

“You won’t believe what I heard at the supermarket today!” Bella said the moment she walked into Y/N’s apartment. 

It had been a while since the last time they spent time together, so Bella had brought a whole arsenal of wine bottles and chicken nuggets to Y/N’s place that night in hopes they would manage to stay awake and catch up. 

“Mn? What was it?” Y/N said, mindlessly helping her friend with the shopping bags. She was putting the sparkling wine into the fridge and almost dropped a bottle when she heard Bella telling the story. 

“So, I was at the checkout line okay… Holding all this wine and whatever. Then a tall guy stops behind me.. That’s fine, you know. He looked a little tired, hair on his face, a bit wet and everything. And then I noticed he was talking on the phone, so I took a step further in order to give him a little privacy but then! Listen, I’m not even joking, he started giggling so hard I had to pay attention to what he was saying,” whenever Bella started talking she just would never stop so it did take her a while to tell Y/N the whole story indeed. “And he was calling a girl a jealous baby all lovey-dovey, all giggles and stuff. It was so funny. And then he said my jealous baby and I wanted to laugh so fucking bad, you have no idea,” Y/N was starting to recognize those words and was starting to panic a little, already looking for a bottle of wine to uncork and maybe drink half of it. “He kept going for a while with the whole my jealous baby thing and then told the girl we should make this mine and yours thing official, don’t you think? and I swear… I wanted to turn around and tell him to just I don’t know. I don’t even know.” 

Bella was laughing as they clinked their glasses and then drank from them. She sipped but Y/N finished half of it.

Why? Well. Because that was the exact conversation she had had with Seungwoo on the phone earlier that day. He had just left his last class and had gone to the supermarket to get some bread and a few beers, had teased her about calling a few of his girl friends over since Bella was going over to her place and she had insisted it was different. She had pouted and he said he could hear it through the phone… And called her a jealous baby. And the rest… well, Bella had heard the rest and even made fun of it. 

She had no idea how she would tell her about Seungwoo now. It’s hard for Bella to forget a face and Y/N knows. And she would never let Seungwoo go if she recognizes him. Also, she would never let Y/N hear the end of it… She has been telling Bella for years now that she doesn’t need to date, that she hates romance and cheesy things and that she’s fine alone. The fact that she has a clingy boyfriend that likes to be stupid over the phone? Bella would have a field day. 

After finishing her glass in two goes and answering Bella’s “Is everything okay?” with a very quick and nervous “I’m fine!” Y/N excused herself to the bathroom and took her phone with her. She texted Seungwoo and asked him if maybe… Just maybe… He noticed a curly-haired girl at the checkout line… If maybe, just maybe, her hair happened to be pink and she was maybe, just maybe, wearing black pants and a striped orange and white shirt.  

The reply came right away.

Uh, yes. Why? Is everything okay? -SH 

Oh… That’s Bella. She might have heard us on the phone. -Y/N 

Oh, shit. -SH 

Oh shit, indeed, Y/N wanted to say. 

Good thing he hadn’t called her name and Bella hadn’t paid attention to more of that conversation because they had been talking about maybe… letting people know they were together. 

Y/N got out of the bathroom a good five minutes later and Bella had already made herself comfortable in the kitchen - getting the nuggets ready in the oven. 

The one hiding the boyfriend felt nervous like never before. It was impossible for Bella to know, right? She hadn’t heard much and she has never seen Seungwoo before. She doesn’t even know Y/N has met him, she never even mentioned him before. There was a weekend months ago that Sejun had taken Bella to a nearby city to celebrate an anniversary of sorts - the first kiss, he likes to celebrate that one for some reason - and Y/N decided to try something new and go to a dance recital. A colleague of hers would dance so, why not? That’s where she met Seungwoo. A said colleague introduced them and maybe... Just maybe… They have been inseparable ever since. 

All the wine was helping ease Y/N’s mind so when they sat down on her couch and started to browse Netflix for something to watch, she had almost forgotten about the incident already. Bella hadn’t mentioned it again and Y/N couldn’t thank her friend enough for never shutting up because now she was complaining about a new coworker who was making her life difficult and it had nothing to do with the guy at the checkout line. 

A movie was chosen, another bottle of wine was opened and the nuggets were done. And Bella was now talking about Sejun. 

Dangerous territory again. Y/N downed another glass of wine. 

Bella came back with the nuggets, placing the bowl on the couch and settling down again, waiting for Y/N to press play. 

Only then she shut up. 

For ten minutes maybe. 

Maybe Y/N shouldn’t have let her choose a romcom movie. Whose idea was it to watch Set It Up anyway? Two people who try to set their bosses up so they can have free time from work? Is this even a nice movie? 

It is. It’s a great movie. Especially because Y/N is a fan of sports and so is Seungwoo. And she wants to talk about him and boasts about him and tell her best friend that her boyfriend bought them tickets to the Lakers game next week, but she can’t… Because Bella doesn’t even know he exists. And because Sejun might have taken Bella to the Superbowl a month ago. 

So she holds it in and watched the movie quietly. Bella has a comment here and there, sips from her wine, eats her nuggets, all while Y/N downs glass after glass of wine. 

Until she’s a little too drunk to hold it in. 

To be quite honest, Y/N is a little tired of hiding it. If Bella is really her best friend, why would she have to? Maybe Sejun has a better job and sounds way more cool than her silly man, but she has seen the way he drools over her best friend. And she has seen him in the morning and Sejun’s sleepy face looks grumpy and confused while Seungwoo’s looks soft and well-rested. Her boyfriend has his own perfectness too. 

So while the characters are finding out that maybe they have been set up together and Bella is ranting about how they should just ignore it and have fun because they enjoyed each other’s companies… Y/N decides to cut her off with a simple and direct “I have a boyfriend.” 

There’s a long pause. Silence from Bella. She downs her wine, pauses the TV and looks at her best friend. 

“You have a what now?” 

“A boyfriend.” 

“Are you… sure? Y/N, you’re drunk.” 

“Drunk and taken.” 

“Is it that Hwa guy again? I told you he’s not a very ni-” 

“No! No Hwa guy.” 

Bella eyed the bottle and noticed it was empty. Y/N, on the other hand, had shoved a nugget on her mouth to maybe shut her own thoughts too. With a sigh, Bella nodded and clapped her hand - getting into work mode maybe. 

“What’s his name?” she asked and Y/N pointed at her mouth, showing her best friend that she was taking her time chewing that nugget. “You don’t get to tell me you’re dating and then not tell me about the guy!” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and kept chewing. Maybe Bella could forget about the boyfriend thing? She wasn’t proud of all the decisions she took while drunk. 

“Wait…” Bella said when she was almost done. “Wait!” she sounded more excited now, which was a bit dangerous. “So Sejun wasn’t mistaken!” Y/N had a confused face on as Bella continued. “A few weeks ago he told me he saw you kiss a guy at the park near my place. He was 100% super it was you, but you had told me you were going to that culinary course of yours or whatever. Tall guy, he said, a bit strong and whatever. I didn’t believe him but oh my god! You’ve been hiding this from me for how long now???” 

Y/N wanted to stuff one of those nuggets into Bella’s mouth. 

So it turns out perfect Sejun was a snitch. And Bella trusted her above else. 

Good to know. 

After opening another bottle of wine and downing another glass, Y/N told her everything. How she met Seungwoo, how they started dating, how he proposed, where he lived, who is he and what does he do. Bella asked what his favorite food is because that’s the kind of person that she is and was very pleased to know it’s not some weird vegan recipe. She asked for photos and for stories, not mentioning Sejun once. She fired question after question about Seungwoo. What is he like in the morning? Does he dress well? Does he drive? Can he ride a bike? What’s his favorite color? Is he a Leo? What’s his Instagram name? 

The movie was obviously forgotten and another bottle of wine was over. 

When Y/N mentioned that the reason she hasn’t told her yet was because of Sejun, Bella might have given her a face and rolled her eyes. And then shit talked Sejun for another half an hour. Because he eats avocado with sugar and always steals the blanket. And he annoys her whenever he drinks too much coffee and likes to send a lot of emojis to tell her he loves her. 

Mr. Perfect wasn’t as perfect as Y/N thought. 

And maybe telling her best friend about her boyfriend wasn’t as bad as expected. 

They did arrange for the boyfriend to meet the next weekend. Bella did recognize him as the guy from the supermarket and they had a nice laugh about the jealous baby thing. Sejun and Seungwoo got along. Bella and Y/N would stare at them with hearts on their eyes. 

Now they could plan double dates. Travel to Paris in couples. And even share dinners at their favorite restaurants together. All of them happy, laughing and definitely not single. 

What did you think of I’M FINE? Let me know!