#so tuck in bitches its gonna be shit for a hot minute (it already has been so it can't get that much worse)

[system-of-a-feather]

Bro, Riku's dragging me out to do some actual further research and solidify my general thoughts on shit cause we have a gynecology appointment to talk about getting the hysterectomy we were considering before but ALSO bring up possible bottom surgery as a proper discussion and we've been putting it off cause personally thinking about that shit in any serious manner even briefly just makes me fucking sick with dysphoria cause we really have like the FAR end of severe dysphoria in terms of bottom dysphoria as far as all trans communities and resources I see talking about coping with it goes and I'm just like

Literally pausing a fucking 8 minute video half way through to take a music break cause this shit fucking hurts on such a visceral level. Like shits like a near OHKO in terms of psychological damage man. I'm built like a tank on physical damage and most emotional damage things but I'm literally like a boss with a GIANT RED weak point on my head when it comes to my own brain at itself.

Like I don't mind mentioning it online cause like, I literally don't have an issue with people bringing it up at me if they aren't my partner but good god I'm like this one thing just fucking OHKOs the tank of a pain endurer that I am.

-XIV

[fruitcoops]

You write Moody so well! I would love to see something where Moody and Remus talk for the first time after Coops was outed. Whether it happens after the meeting Coops had with Arthur and Alice or after the all star break. I feel like they have such a good relationship!

Thanks! This was partially inspired by watching The Karate Kid (1984) last night, so I hope y'all are ready for some mentor hurt/ comfort this fine Sunday! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW for mentioned forced outing

Remus was almost done. He only had a few more drawers to clean out. The whiteboards were as squeaky and shiny as the day he arrived; the desk had a few more dents and coffee stains decorating the surface, but overall it looked decent. He still couldn’t bring himself to take the pictures off, though. It was his life. His friends. He just couldn’t do it.

The sleeve of his ancient Wisconsin hoodie was still damp when he smudged it under his runny nose. No tears had fallen, but he could feel the maelstrom gathering in his throat. Everything he had worked for, gone because of one stupid mistake.

Not Sirius, of course. Sirius would never be a mistake. It was Remus’ fault they had been caught in the first place.

He stared around his office in misery—no official notice of his layoff had arrived, but he knew it would come, and it was always better to be prepared. Maybe it would hurt less if he did it himself, one final ‘fuck you’ to the homophobes before he trooped off with his tail between his legs.

The tiles were cold through the seat of his comfiest jeans. He tucked his knees closer to his chest.

A quiet knock at the door interrupted the suffocating silence. He didn’t answer.

“Kid?”

Remus’ lower lip wobbled and he croaked out a ‘come in’ with as much strength as he could muster; it wasn’t much. The door opened with a creak—he had never gotten around to having it fixed, after all—and uneven footsteps shuffled in, followed by a sigh as his visitor settled next to him on the floor.

“You have a chair, you know.”

“I know,” he whispered.

“Not all of us have young knees. Doesn’t your ass hurt?”

Remus nodded.

Moody huffed through his nose and hoisted him up by the arm. “Well Christ, kid, up you come. You’re awfully dense for a beanpole. What, you got concrete for bones or something?”

“No,” Remus mumbled as he followed Moody across the hall and allowed himself to be plonked down in the soft chair by the door. It was his favorite of both their offices; as far as he knew, Moody never let anyone else sit there. His chest seized as a sob tried to fight its way out. “I’m sorry.”

Moody shot him a look at he got comfortable in the adjacent seat. “For what?”

“I dunno.”

“I don’t like useless apologies, Lupin.”

Remus sniffled. “I should’ve told you.”

“Says who?” Moody snorted. “Your business is your business. You’re a bright young man, none of this is your f—oh. Okay, Lupin, easy does it.”

“I’m sorry,” Remus blubbered as the tears finally started to fall. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like crying, but I’m kind of a wreck right now.”

Moody made a few soft shushing noises, inching closer until he could wrap an arm around Remus’ shoulders and pat his arm like he was trying to soothe a frightened dog. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

The sobs were near-silent; Remus never cried loudly if he could help it, and he already felt bad enough for dripping his perpetual raincloud all over Moody’s office. He caught his breath after a few hitching inhales and scrubbed at his face with his sleeve. “Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Remus pulled his knees up again and hugged them tight to his chest. “I haven’t called my parents yet.”

“Did they know?”

His heart gave another painful yank. “Nobody knew. Nobody. And—and now it’s everywhere and people won’t leave me alone and I’m gonna get fired—”

“Woah, deep breaths,” Moody interrupted gently, giving him a little shake. “You’re not getting fired.”

“Yes, I am.” Everything felt gross and cold and sad.

“Who told you that?”

“Coach said it might happen ‘cause I’m a doctor.”

Moody scanned his face for a moment, then reached over and grabbed a box of tissues off his desk. “First of all, take some of these. You look like a mud puddle, Lupin. It’s very unsettling. Second, this is a complicated situation and I wouldn’t be too quick to make assumptions. And third, I’ll go to bat for you.”

He paused midway through blowing his nose. “What?”

“You’re a good man. An excellent PT. The best colleague I’ve ever had, actually. You know your shit and if they try to fire you over this, I’m not going to make it easy for them.”

More tears threatened to fall over the edge of his itchy eyes. “You’d do that for me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Moody grumbled.

“He hasn’t called.”

“Who?”

“Sirius.” Remus swallowed hard and, before he could second guess himself, leaned his head on Moody’s solid shoulder. “I’ve called him 23 times and he hasn’t answered a single one. He just…left. Didn’t even look at me.”

“He’s making a mistake.”

“I ruined his life.”

“Hey.” Moody’s tone turned stern. “You don’t get to talk shit about yourself in my office. This is a Lupin Appreciation Zone.”

Remus’ shoulders shook and he closed his eyes; he wished he could just dissolve into the floor and stay there until someone mopped him up. Everything hurt. The world sucked. Moody—

Moody was petting his hair.

The tears stopped abruptly and Remus hiccupped in pure confusion. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m bad at comfort, kid, gimme a break.” The sat in silence for a few seconds as Moody continued to pat his head and muss his hair, which was in dire need of a cut but just long enough to cover his eyes when it was pushed forward. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, actually. How did you…?”

Something akin to embarrassment tinted Moody’s cheeks and he cleared his throat. “My cat hates thunderstorms.”

“Oh. Cool. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Thanks,” Remus said again, much quieter. Moody’s office always felt safe; all the clutter was in its proper place, clean and homey. The touch of familiarity was more of a comfort than he cared to admit. He sat up straight and wiped his face clean, then leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “If I do get fired—”

“You won’t.”

“If I do, I wanted to say thank you for changing my life.” The words hung in the air. “You—without you, I would never have felt at home here. You were the best mentor I could ever ask for and I’m never going to forget that. You did more than just teaching me routines. Thank you.”

Moody cleared his throat again. “Tissues.”

Remus silently passed the box.

“If anyone gives you shit for being gay, you call me and I’ll take care of it,” Moody said once the tissue had disappeared into the depths of his pocket.

Remis blinked at him. “Are you offering to hurt someone for me?”

“I’ll deny it in court.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he laughed. “Fuckin’ hell, this is a mess. I’m a mess.”

“You just got outed and your boyfriend ditched you in an airport,” Moody said bluntly, fixing Remus with a look. “You’re allowed to be a mess. Now go talk to Lily. Call your mom. Do whatever you do that makes you so sunshiney, and then we’re gonna unpack all your shit and put it back where it belongs.”

Remus swallowed hard. Fuck it. Fuck the NHL, fuck the homophobes, and fuck being sad.

Moody narrowed his eyes. “You want to use the kicking bag, don’t you?”

“I really, really do.”

---------------------

“Stupid—fucking—son of a bitch!” Remus gritted out as the beat-up and half-folded gym mat squeaked under his assault. It was two inches of plastic and therapy—he was 90% sure Moody had stolen it from a middle school gym, and it had rapidly become the team’s favorite way of winding down after a frustrating day.

“Harder!” Moody barked behind him.

Remus wound up and slammed his foot into it again. “I worked too damn hard to be kicked out for this bullshit!”

“Damn right you did!”

The kicking bag creased in the center. “And I’ve got too much student debt to walk out of here like—like a coward!”

“Yes, you do!”

His grief had burnt off at least five minutes prior. Remus was well and truly pissed now. “And it’s nobody’s goddamn business who I kiss!”

“That’s the spirit!” Moody cheered.

“And maybe his face is stupidly pretty!” Remus threw his shoulder against the mat before he resumed kicking it. “And, yeah, he has really nice shoulders and a great ass—”

“Lupin—”

“But fuck him for leaving me in an airport! What kind of douchebag does that to a guy? I’m hot and smart and nice and I can date whoever the hell I want if he doesn’t appreciate that!”

“That’s certainly one approach!”

Remus stopped with a harsh exhale and dropped one last halfhearted kick to the base. “I don’t want anyone else, though. And I miss his stupid pretty face.”

A hand, heavy but gentle, squeezed his shoulder. “Then go get him.”

[looooooooomis]

Somebody’s Baby

a stu macher x fem!reader one shot requested by the lovely @slasherscream​ 

I try to shut my eyes, but I can't get her outta my sight. I know I'm gonna know her, but I gotta get over my fright.

pairing: Stu Macher x fem!reader word count: 5.6k warnings: s m u t, longing, fluff, angst, oral, teasing, honestly I went off (my bad)

Stu Macher never really did stand a chance. At least not when it came to you.

He was putty in your hands, whether you knew it or not. He’d do anything for you, everything for you – even if that meant taking a backseat to Billy Loomis. He had to admit, it was gutting to watch you and Billy interact the way you did. The two of you were close – hell, the three of you were close – but there was something about you and Billy that seemed to just…make sense.

And, for the most part, Stu was okay with that. For the most part being the key words. Because, fuck, he’d be a liar if he said that tonight of all nights wasn’t bothering him. It was a night not unlike any other. The three of you had decided on a movie that Stu couldn’t really bring himself to care about all too much as you and Billy harped on and on about whatever it was the two of you were talking about, but it was your attitude that was rubbing him the wrong way.

You were distant tonight. You were cold. You seemed to smile real big whenever Billy would make a comment about the movie but if Stu said a goddamn word it was as though he’d sucker punched you in the gut. It didn’t feel angry, or at least he didn’t think you were angry, but there was something off about the whole damn thing and it was driving him mental.

You were tucked away in the chair with your knees curled up into your chest, frowning at a particularly bloody scene on the TV, a seemingly important one too, but Stu couldn’t bring himself to watch it. He was far too busy trying to discern what the lines on your forehead meant, what the furrowed brow and small, barely-there frown on that pretty face of yours meant. Had he unknowingly done something wrong? He didn’t think so, but stupid shit came out of his mouth all day long so, he supposed, it wasn’t impossible.

But there was a niggling feeling in his gut that told him that couldn’t be it. You weren’t mad or annoyed, you were cold. You were distant. It was as though you’d barricaded yourself away from him and done so with purpose. But why?

Why, why, why?

“It’s eight, Stu,” Billy muttered, far too engrossed in the movie to bother looking his way. “Didn’t you have to be at whatsername’s by eight-thirty?”

Glancing down at the time on his watch, Stu stretched out his long limbs and chanced another look at you only to find that your eyes were solely focused on the wall just beyond the television. For a moment, he remained still, waiting for you to do something. To look at him, to make a quip about his date, to do literally anything besides ignore him, but when your stare remained cast ahead, Stu sighed and stood up to his full height. “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” He griped. “Think she’ll put out?”

It was meant to be a joke, something to lighten the mood or, at the very least, get you to crack a smile or roll your eyes, but when all you did was continue in your stare-off with the fucking wall, Stu’s stomach fell.

What the fuck was your problem tonight?

“Tact, fucker. Y/N is right here.” Billy rolled his eyes but shot him a small smirk. “And if she has a brain, don’t count on it.”

“Hilarious,” Stu mocked. “You guys need anything before I go? Some water? Some beer? Handful of condoms?”

“Fuck off,” Billy cracked a grin. “Don’t do anything stupid tonight.” He gave Stu a knowing look, being sure to keep his mouth shut around you in fear of letting anything regarding their little charade slip.

“Me?” Stu feigned hurt. “Never.”

Once again, he waited for you to say anything – a goodbye, at the very least – but when he got nothing in return, Stu merely rolled his eyes and walked out of the house.

You, on the other hand, remained stoic as ever as you blinked back a flurry of tears daring to spill out of the corners of your eyes. Your heart was in your stomach and your nails, which had been digging into your palms for the better half of the evening, carved out tiny half-moons into the sensitive flesh as you fought back every urge you had to scream and yell at the idiot for leaving you yet again.

The sound of the front door shutting was enough to make your body relax just enough for a few stray tears to roll down your cheeks. You were just so mad and so incredibly hurt all at once and, while you should have been used to it by now, it never got any easier watching that tall bitch of a man you’d grown to love over the years walk out for yet another date with another woman who was not yourself.

“You okay?” Billy asked, lulling his head towards you from his spot on the couch. He was the one person in the world to know your true feelings about Stu Macher and, while he’d never admit to it out loud, you knew he was oddly protective of you when it came to Stu’s idiocy, especially where his dating life was concerned.

You swallowed hard, not quite trusting your voice in fear of breaking down in front of him. So, instead, you remained silent and barely nodded. Was it hot in here or was it just you? You suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe as you sat in the dark room with Billy to your left and Stu now long gone. Deep breaths, you thought to yourself, squeezing your palms yet again. Deep, calming breaths.

You heard Billy sigh as he paused the movie. “Y/N,” he muttered, his tone careful, “how’s he going to know how you feel if you don’t actually say shit about it?”

Through the thick blanket of tears still gathering in your eyes, you focused your glare on the dark-haired man. “Fuck off,” you barked out, “like it’s that easy.”

“It is,” he shrugged. “What’s stopping you?”

“The idiot has a date every week, Billy,” you hissed, “am I supposed to show up with a bouquet of fucking roses declaring my feelings as his tongue’s down some other girls’ throat?” With your emotions at an all-time high, you stood up from the chair and raised a shaky hand to anxiously toy with your hair. “I mean does he have to parade his shit around here the way he does? It drives me nuts.”

Billy remained quiet and still as he watched you pace in front of the tv. He’d seen this frenzied look on your face only once before, but he knew what was coming next. It wasn’t often that you let your feelings finally bubble over to the brink of explosion, but if your current state was any indication, he was about to witness a breakdown.

Standing up to his full height, Billy quietly walked towards you and placed his hands on either shoulder, holding you in place as his brown eyes searched your own watery gaze. “Hey,” he cooed, brow puckered. “Stu’s a fucking idiot if he doesn’t see what’s in front of him.”

You chewed on your lip in an attempt to contain the sob desperately clawing its way up your throat. “I can’t watch him do it anymore, Bill,” you finally said, barely above a whisper. “It just hurts too much.”

It wasn’t often you were met with the soft side of Billy Loomis, but you cherished those moments – though so far and few between – each and every time. With a sigh, Billy wrapped his arms around your shoulders and tugged you close. He said nothing, though, because what could he say? Stu was a fucking moron when it came to you, he knew as much, but uttering those words at a time like this would only hurt you more.

You sniffed, your tears bleeding into the cotton of his white t-shirt. “I swear he—”

“Wow,” Stu’s voice rang out into the silence of the room. Snapping your head towards his sudden appearance, you froze in Billy’s arms, terrified of just how much he’d heard. At first, he seemed to just stand there for a second, staring at the two of you wrapped up in each other’s arms with a resigned, almost defeated look in his blue eyes. But all at once, in typical Stu fashion, that serious undertone slowly morphed into an almost amused sneer. “You two move fast, huh? Guess I should’ve grabbed those condoms.”

You rolled your eyes, barely hearing Billy’s sly comeback as you gently pushed him away. That heaviness in your chest that had made you cry only seconds prior was now a raging fire inside of your chest. The audacity this big, dumb, ass of a man had.

“Hilarious, Stu,” you griped, sniffing as you walked back to your chair. “Forever the comedian.”

“Hey,” he held his hands up in surrender. “No shame in it, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t interrupt shit,” Billy said. “And you know it.”

“What are you even doing back?” You snapped, glowering across at the idiot. “Or did you get bored of this one already?” You made a show of looking down at your watch-less wrist. “Five whole minutes, that’s got to be a new record.”

Stu pretended to laugh. “I forgot my wallet, ice queen,” he grabbed his wallet off of the table but continued to glare down at you. “What’s your problem tonight, anyway? You’ve got a stick shoved so far up your ass it’s practically coming out of your—”

“I wouldn’t go there,” Billy warned, flicking the play button on the remote. “Stop while you’re ahead.”

Stu barely glanced at him. “Nah, Billy,” he shrugged and took a seat on the edge of the couch closest to where you sat. “I’m curious. Can’t a guy be curious as to why a broad suddenly decides to give you the cold shoulder?”

“I warned you,” Billy merely shrugged.

“A broad?” You growled. “Get fucked, Macher.”

“What is your issue?” Stu reiterated. “I’m serious. You’ve been acting like a—”

“I’m not getting into this with you.” Pushing yourself off of the chair, you stormed passed both men towards the front door. “Enjoy your date, dipshit.”

Stu watched you go in utter confusion but before he could get up to follow you and continue this entire fiasco, Billy smacked him upside the head. “Leave her be, idiot,” he merely said, not tearing his eyes away from The Exorcist. “Let her cool off.”

“Cool off?” Stu asked with a furrowed brow. “Cool off from what? You two got that heated that fast that she stormed out because I came back inside?”

A long, deep, heavy sigh escaped Billy’s lips as he – yet again – had to pause the movie. His eye twitched in irritation as he surveyed the almost dopey look on Stu’s face. “I just want to watch this damned movie and it’s like a fucking soap opera with you two.”

Stu blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“You seriously don’t know, do you?” When all he received was a blank stare from his friend, Billy pinched the bridge of his nose and swore under his breath. “You’re even dumber than you look, you know that?”

»»————-¤————-««

It was a few hours later when there was a casual knock at your front door. Your parents were gone for the night and, as you glanced at the time, your stomach gave a nervous twist. It was nearing midnight and, while it was a Friday and you were by no means tired, just who would be knocking at your door this late at night eluded you.

Debating on whether or not to answer, you remained firmly situated on your couch as you eyed the front door in disdain. Maybe if you waited long enough, they’d move onto the next house and your life could be spared for another night. But, before you could get too much hope on the matter, another loud knock erupted from the door. This time, however, followed by an all too familiar voice.

“Hey dipshit,” Stu’s muffled voice rang out, “open up.”

“The fuck?” You whispered in confusion before making your way to the front door. Sure enough, as you unfastened the lock, there he stood. Stu Macher in all his glory. His eyes were somewhat wild as he silently stood on your front porch, soaking you in from all angles as his Adams apple bobbed up and down in his throat. For the first time in…well, ever, it appeared Stu was at a loss for words.

“Stu, what the hell?” You asked. “My parents could have been home do you know how late it is?”

“Yeah,” he simply said, not moving an inch from where he stood. “But this couldn’t wait.”

You blinked. “What couldn’t wait?” You asked, glancing over his shoulder to see if this was some weird prank that he and Billy thought up. “Come inside, you’re freaking me out.”

“I—” His words seemed to die on his tongue. “I just need to know if it’s true.”

You frowned. “If what’s true?” You racked your brain for a possible answer but came up empty. “Did something come up on your date or something? If it’s about that rumour with me and Matt Sewinski, I promise you that’s not true. The guy’s a creep.”

Stu shook his head but his eyes remained glued to your face, unblinking. “No,” he simply said, “and I didn’t end up going out with Heather.”

You wrinkled your nose. “I thought it was Sarah tonight?”

Stu shut his eyes in sheer annoyance. “Heather, Sarah, whoever the fuck it was,” he opened those blue eyes open again and the raw intensity inside of them made you take a small step back. “I didn’t go.”

You swallowed hard and suddenly felt a wave of nausea overcome you. “Why?” You gulped out.

Stu licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair. He was yet to step foot inside your house and between the maniacal look in his eye and the chilled breeze seeping in through the open door, you shivered absentmindedly. “I talked to Billy.”

Four words. Four tiny little words was all it took to make the room around you spin on its axis. A cold sweat broke out across your chest as you averted your eyes to the wall directly beside his head. Maybe if you didn’t quite look him in the face, you could get out of what was about to become an incredible awkward, painful situation. With your breath trembling, you swallowed again and tried to find your voice. “About what?”

Stu cocked his head to the side. “Y/N,” he warned, “cut the shit.”

Another painful gulp. Your throat felt like it was closing in on you as you stood there facing the boy you’d been in love with for as long as you could remember. You’d often dreamt of this day, the day where he’d finally realize your feelings only to have them reciprocated fully – but when you’d pictured it, Stu looked a lot less crazy than he did looking back at you now. But, even still, there was a glimmer of emotion shining brightly behind those blue eyes that made your breath hitch in your throat.

It made you nervous.

Worse, it made you hopeful.

“Stu,” you tried to find some conviction in your tone, but your nerves got the better of you. “Can you just get inside first? You’re scaring me.” Despite feeling as though you were going to faint, you managed to reach across the divide to yank him inside of your house. Locking the door behind you, you took a few even breaths before turning back around to face him. “What did Billy say?”

Stu ignored your question as he began to pace around your hallway. He was this tall, broad, string bean of a man on a regular day, but the mass of him tonight was all encompassing as he governed your foyer. “Seven years,” he began, his voice slightly shaky. “We’ve known each other for seven fucking years, Y/N. And I’ve hung on your every fucking word for all of six years, eight months and a handful of days, give or take.” He turned on his heel rather abruptly to face you. “But you liked Billy.”

You opened your mouth to respond to the first half of his statement before realization dawned on you. Grimacing, you shook your head. “Billy? He’s like my brother, where the hell did that come from?”

“You act like he hung the fucking moon, Y/N!” He exclaimed, emphatically. “What was I supposed to think?”

“What?” You shook your head in sheer confusion. “Okay, one thing at a time. Billy is one of my best friends. So are you. What’s the problem here?”

“The probl—?” Stu laughed. “The problem? For seven fucking years you’ve been the first person I think of when I wake up and the last person I think of before I go to sleep. And literally every fucking second in between. And this whole goddamn time, I thought you were in love with Billy.”

You were reeling. You weren’t entirely sure if your heart was beating as loud as it appeared to be, but you were sure he could hear it from where he stood a few feet away. “I—” You tried to form a sentence – any sentence – but nothing seemed to suffice. “But the dates?” Were the only words that seemed to spill from your lips. “You were dating – are dating – constantly.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “wonder why.”

You weren’t sure when you’d done it or just how your legs managed to carry you back into the living room, but you found yourself falling against the arm of the couch in an almost dream-like state. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything,” Stu fussed. “I want to know if what Billy told me was true.” He walked up to you and searched your face. “Do you love me?”

You didn’t answer at first. You couldn’t. Not when it felt as though your lungs were about to explode in your chest. You must have opened your mouth a dozen times over, each time with the promise of a formative sentence, but nothing seemed to suffice.

Suddenly Stu’s hands were on you. Squeezing your thighs with those large hands, he demanded your focus as he swooped down and caught your eye. “I need you to answer me, doll.”

You were so focused in on the overwhelmingly glorious feeling of his hands on your thighs that you forgot to answer. Hell, you forgot to breathe. It wasn’t until you slowly managed to tear your eyes away from his hands to trail up the rest of his body towards that striking face of his, that you found your words.

“You came to my house at midnight. You’ve been the one going on dates like it’s a part time job. You’re the one claiming to have been hanging on my every word for the better half of our friendship so, no, Stu, I’m not saying a fucking word until you tell me what it is that brought you here this late?” You pushed his hands off of your thighs and stood up. “All I’ve done this entire time is sit idly by and watch you carry on like Heffner at the Playboy Mansion. You want me to answer you? Not until I get a—”

Your answer came in the form of a kiss.

On instinct, your hands tangled through his hair as his tongue slid along your bottom lip. He might have been on your shit list at the moment, but fuck he was a good kisser. You’d been thinking about this very moment for as long as you could remember. Longer, even, and god was it everything you thought it would be and more.

His hands were on your face at first, cradling it gently as he backed you into the sofa, and then they were on your neck, holding you close as his tongue massaged against your own. Shivering beneath his touch, you instinctively leaned into his broad chest as the pair of you continue to stand there, kissing like your lives depended on it.

“Stu,” you mumbled against his lips. “What are we doing?”

“Kissing” he rasped out before finding your lips yet again. “Bed or couch?”

Every red flag in your head was going off to stop this and properly talk about what was not so subtly insinuated only seconds prior, but he just felt so good and you’d wanted this so so long. “Bed,” you told him breathlessly, without a second thought.

Stu wasted no time in leading you towards your bedroom, kissing his way down your neck as you stumbled down the narrow hallway. Obviously losing his patience about halfway through, he pushed you up against the wall and trailed sloppy kisses down your jaw and neck. “I love you, if that wasn’t obvious.” He breathed out. “Like, a lot.”

His words struck you blind. Ever the dutiful distraction, however, Stu’s hand trailed down your sweatshirt before settling on the waistband of your pajama shorts. Your body reacted to the promise of his hand. Arching into him, you bit your lip and sighed in contentment as his fingers slipped beneath the band. You were already soaked. Your body responded to the man in a way you couldn’t begin to comprehend, and you weren’t sure you wanted to. And as his middle finger slid into your folds, instantly finding your clit, a soft moan escaped your lips.

“Is this the horny part of your brain talking?” You growled, tugging at the ends of his hair so that you had full access to his lips. “Or are you serious?”

“So fucking serious.” He hummed into your mouth. He pinched your clit, garnering a rather surprised hiss to escape from your lips as your entire body lurched forward. Hearing him chuckle, you popped an eye and began to pull his shirt over his head. When you tossed it across the hallway, his eyes met yours. “Do you love me?”

“Yeah, but I have bone to pick with you first,” you chided, doing your best to control your breathing as he quickened his pace on your clit.

He ducked his head down to bite your lip. “Unless it’s this bone,” he ground his hips into you, and you could feel his rock-hard erection even through his jeans. “It can wait.”

You laughed before you could think of stopping yourself. “Jesus Christ, you’re disgusting.”

He was smirking across at you. “You love it.”

Still grinning, you rolled your eyes before your lips took refuge on his neck. Which, as it turned out, was a massive turn-on for Stu Macher. Running your tongue along it and nipping at the sensitive flesh, was getting him incredibly riled up if the bulge in his jeans was any indication. Biting down on the sensitive flesh, the groan it drew out of his mouth was enough to make your already wet pussy clench around his fingers.

“Fuck,” he drew out, sliding the finger that had been assaulting your clit only seconds prior inside of you.

You let out a small moan of your own as you hurriedly got to work on his belt. “Why the fuck wouldn’t you just tell me how you felt?” When you’d managed to practically rip it off of his waist, you wasted no time in unzipping his jeans. His cock sprung free within seconds.

“I thought you liked Billy,” he rasped out gruffly as you began to pump his cock with your hand. “What was I supposed to do?”

You wiggled free from the hand currently down your shorts and dropped to your knees. Looking up at him through your thick eyelashes, you raised your brow. “You could have asked me?” You reminded him, swirling your tongue around the tip of that perfectly girthy cock. The man might have been a pain in the ass but good god he had the assets to make up for it.

Stu braced himself against the wall behind you and threw his head back. Fuck, you were lethal with that mouth of yours. “Hindsight,” he breathed out.

You released his cock with a pop. “You’re an idiot.” Was all you said before getting back to work. With your hand, you circled the base of his dick and took the length of him inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip each time you made your way back up.

He grabbed your hair and gave it a firm pull. “Fuck,” he growled. “Keep going.”

You hummed against his dick, digging your nails into his thigh briefly before looking back up at him. “Or what?” He allowed his forehead to fall against his forearm currently stabilizing him against the wall. You knew you were driving him crazy, but he’d done the same thing to you for the last seven years and you were nothing if not a petty bitch when you wanted to be. “Say it again.”

He furrowed his brow. “Say what?” Realization dawned on him. “Fuck, baby, you keep doing that I’ll put a ring on your finger tomorrow.” Stu’s blue eyes were hungrily taking you in. How you’d managed to stay fully dressed as he stood there with his jeans around his ankles and his cock out was beyond him but, sure enough, that was his reality. “I love you. A lot.”

You dug your nails into his thigh again, and slowly licked up the base of his cock. “Hmm,” you hummed with a nod of your head, releasing it to stand up to your full height. His eyes were pleading with you to finish him off, but as you slinked up the wall and mirrored his hungry gaze, he surprised you by sliding his calloused hand up the side of your neck until it cupped your cheek. You were practically nose-to-nose as he slowly pinned you against the wall and, as he leaned forward and nudged your nose with his, a slow, lazy grin broke out across your face. “I love you, too.”

Slowly, you leaned in and kissed him. Unlike the deliberate make-out session you’d had minutes prior, this kiss was slow and methodical. When you pulled away, you kissed the tip of his nose and nodded towards your bedroom. “Get on the bed.”

Stu’s eyebrows shot up in amusement. “Pushy.”

You gave his dick a tug. “Go.”

He swooped in again and kissed you before haphazardly kicking off his shoes and jeans, punting them across the hallway as he backed you into your bedroom. When you were close enough to your bed, he broke the kiss to peel off your sweatshirt. Throwing it across the room, his hands were back on you within seconds, kneading and massaging your breasts before taking one in his mouth. Expertly, his tongue ran along your nipple before he began to suck and nip at them. Arching into his mouth, you fisted a handful of his hair and groaned as he pulled you in even closer.

“Stu,” you moaned, shutting your eyes momentarily as you allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of his mouth on your tits. The man truly was a god with his tongue.

But you had a trick up your sleeve. A little payback, if you will. And this, melting into his mouth, was not part of the plan.

Hating yourself, you pushed him away. The back of his knees hit your bed and you watched as he fell back onto the soft mattress with a slight bounce. There was confusion in his stare as he sat there ogling you. “Get over here,” he beckoned, voice low.

Slowly, you shimmied out of your pajama shorts, feeling his eyes on you every step of the way as you stepped out of them and walked towards the bed. Towards him. Sitting himself up, he opened his legs so you could step between them. His hands were slow as they trailed up and down your thighs, hips, and waist before sliding around to your ass. Squeezing and pulling at your cheeks, he pulled you closer and placed a tender kiss to your sternum before craning his neck up to peer up at you.

“I always knew you had a thing for my ass.” You raked your fingers through his hair, pushing it back and away from his forehead as you grinned down at him.

His answer came in the form of another firm squeeze of your ass only rather than stop there, he tugged you closer until you were tumbling onto his lap. You gripped his shoulders as you straddled his lap, subtly grinding your hips so his erection settled between the folds of your pussy, rubbing against your clit.

“Lay down on your stomach,” he uttered. When he noticed your apprehension, he raised a single eyebrow up at you and squeezed again. “Do you trust me?”

You nodded mutely and did as you were told. And, before you knew it, you were sliding off of his lap to lay stomach-down on your bed. You felt the bed shift as Stu crawled towards you but before you could question him on it, you felt his hands slide beneath your hips to pull you up so that your ass was raised in the air.

“What are you—”

Your words died in your throat as you felt his tongue glide along your pussy. Gasping, you nearly buckled forward, but caught yourself on your pillow. You were face down, buried in the comforter and pillows of your bed, but with your hips bent at the level Stu had moved them into, he had full access to both your pussy and your ass. You could feel his fingers kneading into your ass as his lapped up your every fold until settling on your clit. You groaned and buried your face into the pillow as he began to suck your clit. You could hear how wet you were as his mouth imbibed every inch of your pussy.

His name tore out of your throat and your knuckles whitened as you gripped the bedsheets. The veins in your neck swelled with every laboured breath you managed to draw and you found yourself bucking into his mouth as an orgasm rippled through your body. You moaned and groaned and cursed into the bed but Stu’s mouth was relentless. And as he pinched your clit all the while still lapping you up, you all but collapsed. When he was sure you couldn’t take another second of torture, he pulled away and allowed you to collapse onto the bed. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips were parted as you attempted to catch your breath. With a quiet chuckle, he kissed his way up your spine, grinning against your skin as your legs continued to twitch.

“Can I?” He asked, his cock at the ready.

Nodding, you gasped when you felt him slide inside of you. He bit down on your shoulder as he thrust into you and his quiet moans and unsteady breath was enough to kill you. “Fuck,” he whispered. “You feel so fucking good.”

This was a high unlike any other for Stu. Watching his cock slam into you, watching your ass slap against him with every wild thrust and pump he provided and feeling just how fucking wet you were for him – this was the unattainable high. You were the unattainable high.

He reached around to play with your clit again. He could feel it throbbing between his fingers and, feeling you tremble made him weak. Quickening his pace on your clit and steadying his thrusting to ensure you finished again, Stu bit down on your earlobe. “Come for me, baby.”

Your answer came in the form of another thick, guttural moan as you came undone yet again. He watched you quiver and shake and the vision of it was enough for him to quicken his thrusts. Groaning, his hands fell from your clit to hold your hips as he pounded into you. The sound of your cheeks slapping against him was drawing him closer and closer to one hell of an orgasm and as you let out one last breathy moan, his whole body seemed to erupt in fire.

His breathing was heavy as he came inside of you and the more sensitive his cock got with every thrust, his pace slowed. For a moment, neither of you moved. Instead, he allowed his forehead to fall back against your shoulder before he slowly pulled out.

“If I’d have known that’s what I was missing, we should have had this talk a lot sooner.” You teased, earning a playful smack to your ass from the man. Grinning, you flopped back onto the pillow and stared up at him. He was leaning on one arm as those blue eyes scraped over every inch of your face. You could see the words he wanted to say splayed out across his face and found yourself reaching up to brush his hair back and away from his sweaty forehead.

“Right back at ya,” you smiled.

Fuck, you really were in love with the idiot.

[yikesharringrove]

Egg the Cat

Chapter 2

Read on Ao3

-

Nancy flinched as an engine revved, a sleek blue muscle car pulling into the lot. 

Steve let himself focus on it. It was better than dwelling on his fucking essay, his impending shitty night spent with Barb’s parents, like he didn’t feel horrible enough about that whole situation. 

He watched the car pull into a space at the front of the lot. 

California plates.

“Who’s that?” Steve could picture Nancy wrinkling her nose as she said it, too focused on Billy getting out of his car to turn and see it for real. 

He narrowed his eyes at a young redhead getting out of the passenger side. 

Billy hadn’t said anything about a sibling. 

“That’s Billy. I met him last night.” He finally looked back at Nancy as Billy set off towards the school. “He found Egg downtown.” 

Nancy’s eyebrows flew nearly to her hairline. 

“Steve, I’m sorry, I forgot. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, Billy got her safe and sound. Still don’t know how she got out, though. Let alone made it all the way downtown.” He locked his car as they headed towards the high school, the warning bell sounding through the parking lot.

He reached for Nancy’s hand, his heart soaring when she let him take it. 

Sometimes she said his hands were too clammy. 

He walked her to her first class, kissing her softly by the door. 

Billy glared at the tiny brunette sitting in front of him. 

Steve hadn’t said anything about having a fucking girlfriend last night. 

And really, Billy should’ve known. He’s a hot guy, living in a town of not a lot of hot guys. It makes sense some girl would snap him up. 

It just felt like a slap in the face. 

It’s not like Billy thought he actually had a chance with Steve, but now all of his daydreams, any of his dirty thoughts featuring one Steve Harrington were gonna be tainted, by this prissy fucking bitch. 

Billy just spent all of his AP biology lecture boring holes into the back of her head. 

He didn’t really give a fuck if people noticed, thought it was weird. He was too busy channeling all of his anger, all of his hatred onto this skinny little priss. 

He hoped she could feel it, like maybe his anger gaze gave off palpable heat or something. 

Based on how many times she stuck her hand up to answer every question posed by the teacher, no, she couldn’t feel the heat of Billy’s rage. 

He couldn’t get out of there fast enough, only to find they shared all three of their morning classes. 

Because fuck Billy. 

And then he had to watch, had to stand there like a stupid gay fucking idiot as Steve lifted nancy off her feet, and made out with her against her locker. 

He stomped past, hoping to go unnoticed by-

“Billy!”

Fuck. 

He stopped dead in his tracks, taking a few deep breaths before turning, plastering his best I am so charming and I don’t hate your girlfriend for no reason smile on his face. 

Steve was all sunshiney again today. Billy mentally kicked the little voice in his head saying that sunshine is for you. 

“Hey, man! How’s your first day going?” Steve had his girl tucked under his arm. She looked like a frail little bird. Billy hoped Steve’s cat ate her for breakfast one day soon.

“Well, you got mad at me last night when I called this place a shithole, so I’m just going to heavily imply it.” Steve laughed, his head tipping back a little, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

Billy tried to think about his dad, tied to think about the shelf bruises on his back. 

And then Steve was pressing a sheet of paper into his hand, and their fingers fucking brushed and Billy tried, tried to think of a broken arm and cops at his house, and not holding fucking hands with Steve Harrington. 

He studied the paper, just to look somewhere that wasn’t Steve’s eyes. A lighter shade of brown in the fluorescent lights, a shade bordering on green. 

Come and get sheetfaced. 

“Hawkins parties will probably be lame compared to what you’re familiar with, but I mean, it should be fun.” Billy just nodded, eyes trained on the little ghost. “We’ll be there. Nancy and I.” Nancy. That’s a stupid fucking name. “Y’know, if you aren’t too cool for us by then.”

Steve was smirking at him a little when Billy finally looked up. 

“I’m already cooler than you, Harrington.” Fuck. It sounded way meaner than Billy had wanted, sounded actually rude, not like a little ribbing. Not like a little tongue-in-cheek reference to last night. Cold shit. 

But then Steve tossed his head back, and he laughed, a full belly laugh, and he clapped Billy on the shoulder, and Billy has never felt gayer in his entire life. 

“Harsh, man. Real harsh. Wait ‘til I tell Egg you said that, she’ll never want to see you again .” And Steve was still smiling at him, and he had maybe, alluded to Billy seeing his cat again, which meant seeing Steve outside of school, and Nancy was looking down the hall, like this conversation was below her pay grade, and Billy wanted. 

“See, that’s why I’m cooler than you. I don’t go telling my cat all my lame drama.”

“That’s because you don’t have a cat,” Steve said playfully, his face falling a bit. “Wait, you don’t have a cat, do you?” Billy shrugged.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” And Steve smiled at him, and the bell rang, and Nancy rolled her eyes before pressing herself out from underneath Steve’s arm, and Steve’s big sweet eyes snapped onto her. 

“I’ve got to get to Calculus.” Billy’s heart sank. They shared four classes so far. 

Steve just leaned down to kiss her, one hand cradling the side of her face. Billy looked away.

“I love you.” He had to suppress a snort as Nancy said it back, her voice all pitchy and off. 

But Steve reached out to clap Billy on the shoulder again. 

“I better see you tonight!” And he was off down the hall, and Billy, once again, made a point not to look at his ass. 

-

“You gotta be home by nine-thirty, okay, Shitbird?” Max rolled her eyes again. 

“Billy, I know what time I need to be home by.”

“Just making sure, because you know if you don’t make curfew, I’m somehow gonna be blamed for it.” Billy had only gotten out of playing babysitter this evening when Max had nearly thrown a full tantrum at the idea of trick-or-treating with adult supervision while she’s trying to make friends. 

She just looked at him sharply, her lips pursing a bit. 

“I’ll be home.” Her voice had an edge to it. Billy didn’t really know how to take it.

“Be safe.” She didn’t acknowledge him, just got out of the car, a little Michael Myers heading into the swarm of children. 

He pulled down the road, the party address only a few blocks from where Max was meeting her friends. 

He slammed a beer the minute he entered the party, didn’t want to be sober for a second of this shitfest. 

Steve had been right. This party didn’t hold a fuckin’ candle to what he frequented down in Cali. 

He tried to make the best of it, beat the keg stand record, found some stupid jocks that were more than happy to parade around him all night. 

He just had to get to that sweet spot, drunk enough he would actually get hard with a girl, but not too drunk he’d get whiskey dick. He didn’t need that to be his reputation in this shitty town. 

He was being pulled through the crowd by some freckly fucker dressed as the guy from Karate Kid. Max had made him take her to that movie six times in the theaters. Billy had slept through it every time. 

He was feeling pretty okay, the beer settling into his system, giving him a warm buzz as he studied the party. Maybe he could find some punk kids, score some weed or-

Steve Harrington.  

The karate guy had shoved him in front of Steve, had said, guess who’s the new Keg King, Harrington?

Steve was glaring at the guy, drawn up to his full height, shoulders squared, all of that melting as he turned to Billy, smiling warmly at him. 

Fucking sunshine. 

“Nice job, Dude!” And Steve took Billy’s hand, and he pulled him into a one-armed fucking hug. 

Billy was absolutely stunned. Maybe a little bit hard as he pat his hand against Steve’s back. Felt his muscles moving under his jacket. 

But then Steve pulled back, his eyes trailing after his fucking girlfriend, and he was gone, followed her into the kitchen. 

Billy wanted to tear out his fucking hair. 

He went the opposite way as Steve, pushing through the sweaty crowd. 

He really didn’t need to see Steve coddling his girl. 

He shoved his way into the backyard, vaulting the low fence on the porch, making his way out of the yellowed light spilling out of the house. 

He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it quickly. 

Fucking idiot. You knew you couldn’t have any fucking boy in this goddamn town.

But Billy had come into this town really not expecting any boy to actually catch his eye. 

Not like Steve has. 

Steve with his stupid big eyes, and his stupid big hair, and his stupid cat named fucking Egg. Who names a cat Egg? That’s a dumb fucking name. 

Billy lit his next cigarette with the dying remains of the last one. 

He thought about calling it quits, heading home early. 

But it wasn’t even ten yet, and really, he needed to fool around with a chick tonight. He needed to establish himself as a lady killer. 

Sleep with one girl, and the rumors would build enough that he probably wouldn’t have to fuck any others, just not deny it when any girl claims they had a wild night of passion. 

It was safer that way. Gave him some cushion. 

Then, if any of the lies began to unravel, he’ll just fuck another one, and let the rumor mill do its trick. 

Besides, he can find a brunette, make her take it from behind. If he’s lucky, the party’ll be loud enough he can tune out her moans, picture someone else, picture him -

The backdoor slammed against the wall as someone stomped outside. 

Billy just took another deep drag, hoped he wouldn’t be noticed. 

But, of course-

Steve didn’t even ask, just took the cigarette out of Billy’s mouth, taking a long fucking drag. 

He rolled his shoulders, let his head fall back, blowing the smoke out towards the sky. 

“Y’know, I fucking quit smoking because of her. Not like I did it a lot, but still .” Billy just stayed quiet. He really didn’t want to talk about Steve’s fucking girlfriend. “Because I actually cared .” Oh, now wait a minute.

“What happened?” 

Steve shot him a dark look.

“You weren’t inside?” 

Billy just gestured to the cigarette Steve was now sucking on once again. Billy kept his focus on Steve’s left earlobe. Didn’t care to get a semi just from looking at his lips. 

“Lovers’ quarrel?”

“Does repeatedly being called bullshit and having her tell you she doesn’t love you count as a lovers’ quarrel?”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Steve tossed the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out. Billy didn’t know what to say. 

What he wanted to say was you ever sucked dick? And then maybe take Steve’s mind off of everything by fucking his face, but that felt a little forward, felt a little gay. 

“ Fuck .”

Oh, shit. 

Steve was fucking, Steve was gonna cry. Standing outside with Billy, barely lit by the light filtering through the small frosted bathroom window. 

“ Next week .” Steve’s voice cracked. “We would’ve been together one year next week. And she was pretending .” Steve slumped back against the wall, his face buried in both his hands. “I, I changed everything for her. I stopped seeing my friends because she didn’t like them, I stopped smoking because she said it was gross, I changed who I am as a fucking person. And you know, granted, I am a better person. But I’m different, because of her, and she just, she threw all of it away.”

He sniffed loudly, his shoulders stuttering. 

Billy felt like his guts were on fucking fire. 

“Fuck her. Fuck her. You are a good guy. And if she’s too much of a bitch to see that, she doesn’t deserve you.” Steve didn’t acknowledge him for a while. Billy just let it be, lit another cigarette. 

“I think I’m gonna go home. I wanna see my cat.” Steve sounded like a little kid. Like a heartbroken little kid. 

“You good to drive?” And Steve finally pulled his head out of his hands. 

His big eyes were shining, his cheeks wet, glistening in the low light. 

“I don’t drink anymore. Because she said I’m an asshole when I’m drunk.”

Billy weighed his words carefully. 

“I’ve got a bottle of tequila in my car if you wanna stick it to her.” Steve gave him a watery smile. 

“You wanna follow me to my place?”

[crossovereddie]

Thoughts on 11x06

I had to come back to type this after the episode. I was gonna wait to post until more people are active but everyone’s safety is more important than notes. This was really hard for me to watch. It took me two hours because I kept needing a break. It’s a tough one yall. It’s heartbreaking and really brought out issues I didn’t know I was still dealing with until I reacted so badly to some stuff. Take care of yourselves and I’m here if you need to talk. I’ll have timestamps for major tws in another post coming right after this. I just gotta go back and get the end of those scenes. I only go the time they started.

Okay. So. There’s some trigger warnings that I’ve reblogged earlier. This recap WILL have thoughts about those triggers. If you think you’ll be triggered just message me or send me an ask and I’ll give you the non triggering recap. Stay safe please.

Kev and v intro. They’re having sex behind the bar

I’m extremely nervous for some reason I might not be able to get through this

Bike heist!!

LICKEY RIGHTS

LIP CALLS HIM MICK

MISSION IMPISSIBLE

Mickey is unimpressed

Lip telling Mickey what to do yes please

Fucking Mickey omg

HE LOOKS SO GOOD

THE WAY HE SAYS BRAD

Again Mickey is unimpressed

Lip :(

MICKEY CONCERNED ABOUT LIPS SOBRIETY

AGAIN I SAY LICKEY RIGHTS

Frank is falling the chick he’s boning Monica

Not sure that’s her real name

Wait yeah it is

Frank??? Has to get to work???

Wait her name isn’t Monica

Oh shut now I get what’s happening

“Can I speak to Pope Francis please” LIAM 😭

Poor baby

Lip cooking breakfast. Hot.

I forgot about camis baby

I actually beep bad for lip and Tami

We already heard this argument with Mickey and Ian get new material writers

PRODIGAL THEIF

PINK BOX HES SO CUTE

HE LOOKS SO CUTE GOTTA SQUEEZE HIM PLS

Yeah don’t tell Carl that traitor

MICKEY BROUGHT DONUTS PLS

HES SO CUTE

ITS TOO MUCH

I LOVE HIM

HIS SMILE!!!!!!!!

GALLAGHER YOUTH

THAT MEANS MICKEY TOO BYE

CARL CALLING HIM MICK TOO PLS

I CANT TAKE IT

Poor Liam he’s terrified

“I was hoping the fucker would just die” :(

Shut up Debbie

Mickey is beautiful

Leave Mickey out of it debbie goddamn

I cant fucking stand her

Frank just observing his kids and smiling

Same frank

SHUT UP DEBBIE

OH MY GOD HIS LAUGH IS THIS WHAT YOU HEAR WHEN YOU FIRST GET TO HEAVEN????

“And the smartest” lol

Someone save Liam

“I want Sandy”

We all do kid

Fucking manipulative little I CANT STAND DEBBIE

Sandy deserves better

I hate the Milkovichs!!!!

How did smart sensitive sweet beautiful loving Mickey come from this disgusting family????

MICKEY IS THE BOSS

My heart hurts so him

“Homo sexy” dear god

Mickey is too good he deserves so much better

I love him so much

Let him be happy

Mickey has the biggest heart

They’re actually talking and not fighting

CHAPO STFU

You’re so funny and smart and beautiful don’t forget that baby

SUGAR TITS

And no one is fazed lmao

“He’s actually my uncle and my dad” I fucking hate this show

I forgot Carl makes legit money now

Wtf kinda school is this

This is so fucked up

The twins are so adorable

SHUT UP DEBBIE

“You guys” I hate that but also she’s acknowledging Mickey as “hers” and he’s family :(

Okay this horrifying comment

I hate that it’s just nonchalant

Debbie just keeps talking.

Let’s move on

Mickeys face when she says “butt naked”lmao

LIP CALLING HIM MICK AGAIN

“Talk to you for a minute?”

“Yes. Please”

I LOVE IT

Mickey is unimpressed by lip once again and I’m smiling

They love each other they’re secretly best friends ITS A FACT

HAND SHAKE SO CUTE

MY BABIES

“Blue like my balls” fucking frank lol

They’re going in on Frank’s storyline now

Boss Mickey at it again

Terry’s home

The way his face falls im sick

SANDY BABY

My heart is racing

Mickeys face is breaking my heart

Great now I’m crying

Mickey got emotional

Ian sensed it and touched his neck all fucking sweet

Okay I had to take a little break because I started crying

I love him too much

Fucking Noel is so damn good

My heart is fucking breaking

“Frank’s not a homophobic psychopath who tortured you for years”

Please Mickey deserves better

I don’t wanna hear any Ian slander either.

In this house we protect my son and my son in law I will fight you

“Let’s get the fuck outta here. Lip you coming?” 😭

That was so hard to watch yall. I’m not gonna lie to you. My parents weren’t half as shitty as terry but growing up feeling unloved your whole life fucks you up anyway and that brought out some emotions and feelings I didn’t realize I still dealt with. I had to pause for a good while and cry.

Leave Sandy alone debbie

Terry is disgusting

Okay the homophobic language he uses is definitely triggering so I’ll time stamp that too

Debbie you selfish bitch

Everyone leaving terry outside it’s a yes from me

I honestly can’t concentrate on the other scenes now I’m sorry y’all

I try to cover everyone’s scenes but it’s hard for me today

I’m not okay

Liam is too innocent poor kid

MICKEY LIP AND IAN THE BEST TRIO

We need more scenes

I PAUSED TO TYPE AND THE FUCKING LOOK HES GIVING HIM STOP

They’re besties

Mickey is beautiful

MY BABY BUSINESS BOSS MAN I LOVE YOU

he really hasn’t called him Philip the entire episode wtf

Ignoring Debbie

Now I want fries

Carl is cringy

Mickey drove them home and pulled a gun

Honestly again another heartbreaking scene

Ian’s trying to make him stop

Terry is disgusting and also a coward but we’ve been knew

Noel is the most amazing

Mickey gets teary but doesn’t cry bc I cried enough for the both of us

He’s the strongest bravest ever and I’m so proud of him

I need a hug

My heart hurts so much y’all

I just want him to be happy

I’m a fucking mess

I can’t handle Lip being emotional too

Oh I thought lip wanted to sell the house for himself only but at least they all get their share

Horrible music choice

I wanna tuck Mickey in with his favorite tv show on(911) make him his favorite food to eat in bed and not let anyone but Ian around him for a good 72 hours

The way Ian is looking at him

“Would you take care of me if I was paralyzed?”

“....yeah. Yeah”

“Top you whenever I wanted” “asshole”

His smile is back that’s all I need in life

MICKEY IS TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD

RIP DOWN THAT FLAG YES BABY

“That was big of you” “he’s an asshole...I wanna be better than that”

WHEN I TELL YALL I LOST IT I MEAN FULL ON SOBBING

YOURE ALREADY A THOUSAND TIMES BETTER THAN THAT PIECE OF SHIT

YOURE SO KIND AND BRAVE AND BEAUTIFUL INSIDE AND OUT

Ian’s like “back of the head? Gotta grab and hold my boy”

“You are so much better than that” IAN MY SWEET SON IN LAW I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR LOVING OUR BOY SO WELL

IAN IS THE MOST SUPPORTIVE HUSBAND

V spitting truth

I want terry to fucking suffer

Don’t do it frank

“Nah” LMAO

Frank loves his son in law

Sandy I love you

I need to hold her

No debbie I LOVE HER

NO SANDY LOVE ME INSTEAD

DEBBIE DOESNT DESERVE YOU

Carl scene was so awful I feel so bad for him this girl is a fucking psycho

That was an actual rape scene what the fuck

Mickey making frank laugh

Debbie explaining? Really?

I hate her

“How long is this gonna take? I’m fucking starving Lip” WHY WONT YOU CALL HIM PHILIP

“We could get on with our lives” well that hurt more than it should’ve

It’s really the end soon huh? 😢

According to captions Ian says “we’re in”

Frank reads his diagnosis

Carl goes to report his rape

That took me nearly two hours to watch. Yeah I usually pause to type but I had to take long breaks after the hard scenes. It was a really hard episode to watch. A lot darker than it has been. I’m not really okay right now. It was emotional but a really good episode overall.

[rjhpandapaws]

A Cup of Something Better

Ch7: When Stuck in One Place, Try Another

Hank was in a tight spot, his manuscript was late already, and it was only going to get later. Hank was out of ideas, well, kind of, distracted was probably a better word for it. Somehow he didn't think his editor would take the excuse of 'so I'm gonna need an extension on that deadline because I'm out of ideas, and also the time I could have spent writing I've spent thinking about a guy that I've seen like once,' all that well. Kaya was great, don't get him wrong, she put up with a lot of his bullshit, but even she had her limits. Hank being almost a month late with a manuscript was definitely one of them, that he unfortunately knew from experience. Best to get this over with. After his meeting with Kaya he was meeting Jeffrey for lunch, something they didn't do as often as they should.

Figuring he'd sat outside her home office long enough, Hank turned off his beat up old car and got out to head inside. The sooner he got this over with the better. She met him at the door, her red hair tied back in a bun, her green eyes were narrowed behind wide red framed glasses. He was definitely about to get an earful.

"You're late," she said in place of a greeting stepping aside to let him in, "but im beginning to notice thats the one garuntee with you."

"Good afternoon to you too Kaya," Hank remarked letting the tall redhead lead the way to her office.

She sat in her office chair and Hank took the couch. Kaya waited until he was seated before she spoke, "Please tell me you have something, even just a progress check. You're creeping up on a month and the company is starting to breathe down my back."

Hank cleared his throat rubbing at his beard, trying to find words that wouldn't get him flayed alive, "the college has been keeping me pretty busy, when I've had time to write I havent been able to get anything down. I was, um, I was wondering if I could get an extension or maybe a hiatus period. I honestly thought I'd be done by now, I'm sorry Kaya."

She sighed, an incredibly swdate response compared to the anger that was burning in her eyes, "an extension Hank? You come in here a month overdue with nothing to show for it and you have the nerve to ask for an extension! You never fail to amaze me. I'll see if I can get you marked as on hiatus. I'll cite your being a professor as my reasoning." Hank breathed a sigh of relief, though the feeling was short lived as Kaya continued, "If you do something like this again the company is going to drop you most likely."'

"Thanks Kaya." Hank responded, "I know I'm not the easiest to work with, but this shouldn't happen again."

She watched him stand with a distant expression, "you know what happens if it does."

He nodded as he made his way to the door, "Have a good day Kaya."

"You too Hank."

Hank figured this was a long time coming, but it was still a surprise to hear just how close he was to being dropped. Not that it wasn't deserved, only a few of his manuscripts had ever been on time. For a few months out of the year he could blame it on being a professor, but the main reason for it was just that his writing process was unstructured and slow.

He needed a pick me up if he was going to be dealing with Jeff as well as Kaya. He drove the familiar route toward the university, planning to stop by the cute cafe again. He parked and walked into the cafe, making his way to the counter with plans to try that same latte again with less espresso since he was feeling more human today. There was a different barista working the counter today, Josh, according to his nametag.

"Hey," Josh said with a charismatic smile, "welcome to Hand Brewed Hope, what can we get started for you?"

"I'll take a medium vanilla latte with two shots of espresso," he almost ordered something for Jeff but then thought better of it.

"Connor will have that down at the other counter for you when its done," Josh said handing the cup off to the other barista.

Hank followed the action with his eyes and then his brain froze. It was the barista from yesterday, he figured as much from the name, either the kid from his night class or his twin. He was just as struck by Connor this time as he had been before and it took all of his strength not to just stare. If anything he was more attractive now that Hank was awake enough to take in more than just his eyes.

Connor was tall, maybe a couple inches shorter than Hank. His brown hair was styled back neatly save for one errant curl that fell defiantly onto his forehead giving the look boyish charm. Hank caught himself staring and decided to make conversation.

"So, uh, Connor, was it?" Hank asked in the ineloquent way that seemed to be the usual of him when he was around the barista.

"Yes professor?" Came the almost immediate response and Hank needed a minute.

Hank stared again, trying to assess if he had in fact heard that correctly. Upon the realization that he he had, his stomach turned on itself. Nothing said dirty old man quite like crushing on one of your students.

"Well that answers that I suppose," Hank said, and hopefully he didn't sound like he was choking on his words.

Connor couldn't be more than in his early twenties at best, and Hank was turning thrity-nine come September. On top of being his professor, the age difference would make anyone uncomfortable. This crush needed to be tucked away, it couldn't become anything. He was pulled from his thoughts by the paper togo cup coming into his line of sight. He took it with a weak smile.

"Have a good day professor," Connor said kindly as he turned to leave.

"You too kid," he responded lifting the cup in place of a wave as he left the cafe like the devil was on his heels.

He could already hear Jeff giving him a hard time about falling for yet another pair of pretty brown eyes, as well as the following lecture about appropriate behavior. He rolled his eyes at his own thoughts and started his car heading to their usual place, a diner by the police station. He drank from the latte, deciding that two shots of espresso was ideal, the bitter perfectly balanced by the vanilla.

Hank arrived before Jeff as was usual and picked a table close to the door, somewhere easy to spot. Jeff arrived a few minutes later, sitting across from Hank. He eyed the coffee cup.

"Good to see you're as much of an asshole as I remember," Jeff joked in way of a greeting, "stopped for a fucking coffee and didn't even get me anything."

Hank laughed shaking his head, "I don't see you for six months and the first thing you do is bitch at me for not buying you a coffee. Some friend you are."

"How's the new book coming along?" He asked looking over the menu.

Hank winced, "I asked to be put on hiatus with my publisher because of got nothing in me right now."

Jeff gave him a sympathetic smile, "how's the university treating you then?"

"Good," Hank replied setting his own menu down having decided on a bacon burger, "night classes are pretty relaxed. How are things at the station?"

"Hectic." Came the reply as Jeff flagged for a waiter, "just got a bunch of new academy graduates and they all think they're hot shit."

"You know how it is, give them a few months and the gravity of the job will set in."

There was a lull in the conversation long enough for them to place their orders. Then the topic finally turned away from work. Though Hank didn't like the new topic that much better.

"So you seeing anyone Hank?" Jeff asked right as he was drinking from his latte. His choking must have marked him as guilty because Jeff continued with, "let me guess, brown eyes."

"Its complicated," Hank replied when he caught his breath, staring at the table as though it held the solution to all of his problems, "he's one of my students. I met him here though." He said tapping the paper cup, "he's a barista."

He could feel Jeff's eyes on him and he looked up. "You've got it bad, its written all over your face." Hank could feel the lecture coming, "you know you can't do anything right? At least not until the semester is out."

"I know that Jeff, jesus." The second half took a little longer to catch up with Hank, "wait what?"

"He's taking night classes right? So that usually means older students. Try talking to him outside of class, like at the shop once the semester is over," Jeff said casually, as though he wasn't suggesting that Hank talk to a guy that was younger than him but also definitely out of his fucking league.

Hank was saved from having to reply when their food arrived. Content silence followed as they enjoyed their lunch, though in the background Hank was overtaking what Jeff had said. Could he approach Connor? Would that be okay? Worst comes to worse Connor would just assume him an overly conversational customer. It couldn't hurt to try he supposed, but then again he'd always been a sucker for brown eyes.

They switched to lighter topics until it came time to part ways. Like always they parted with the half empty promise that they would do this more often. Hank giving a less empty promise that, yes he would at least try and talk to Connor when the semester was out.

Hank had left in a better mood than he had arrived in. For the first time in months he felt inspired, he wanted to write. Not for his manuscript, but maybe it was time to start a new project. Something that better fit what he was feeling, something light and happy. A short piece probably, but well worth the wait. Something that reflected the warmth that can be found in warm brown eyes.

[splendidshinobi]

FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST 2003 LIVE REACT: EPISODES 21-25

almost halfway done lads how we feelin'

episode 21: the red glow

ah yes barry

"i'm alphonse elric!!!!!" yes u r baby!!!

who just popped over the wall

scar im assuming

"i kill therefore i am".....barry spouting descartes rn

it was scar haha

um

hi greed

thought i saw you earlier

WHY DID THEY DRAW HIS ARMS THAT LONG

ope he found the chimera crew...

jerry jewell's evil laugh gets me every time lmao he's so great

ed has deep philosophical talks bro

also ed is chaotic but his personal morals are unshakeable

who are these prison guards gonna release

oh hey kimblee

oh hey squad

ed take out ur pokeball

um wth is that

OH MY GOD TUCKER WHAT

EW

I THOUGHT IT WAS A GIANT YODA OR A SWAMP MONSTER

he looks FUCKKEDDDD

bro of all the things i was not expecting him

oof ishval flashbacks

young scar why is your hair brown

why is it white now

WHY IS HE NAKED

whos her

lust 1.0 im assuming

ew omg tucker is literally so fuckin nasty lookin idk

idk why but he's worse than rod reiss titan for me

wait a damn minute

wait a damn fucking minute

goddamnit

what is GOIN ON

i need tucker to stop whispering he sounds like fucking voldemort on the back of quirrells head

jesus

episode 22: created human

hughes' pajamas look like armin's futon from aot junior high

the bad place???? was that greed's prison gluttony was lookin at?

im still shook af over tucker and tbh its been like 24 hours since i watched episode 21

STOP WHISPERING TUCKER

driving me up a wall

my poor son looks so tired :(

those moral principles at it again

bradley.......

ewww the way tucker walks STOP

hi envy!!!!!

so all of those prisoner guys gonna get flattened by some alchemy

hey kimblee!!!

so did greed escape with the homies???? cause i feel like he would have made his presence known already....

i feel like im missing a lot because im a ding dong

musty prison kimblee is kinda...hot....physically speaking..oops..personality wise obviously there's MUCH to work on

so envy knows hohenheim

ED BABY

he won't do it

oh no alphonse

oh god memory implants

al's identity crisis CONTINUES

they wanna become humans??? huh....doesnt really make sense for their characters...(maybe envy but more on that at 11)

is ed gonna kill these guys for al

some1!!!!!! hold!!!!! me!!!! im so stressed

is he pretending to do it and he's got another plan up his sleeve!!!!????

honestly he's so depressed i cant even tell

those unshakable moral principles at work again i see

the red water can turn ed into a god???? wtf ed doesnt want to be a god he wants to punch god

oh theres the greed squad! i found them!!! is kimblee joining up with them

maria girly!!!!!!!

THE HOMUNCULI IN THEIR STUPID UNIFORMS I--

who's the lady. i need 2 know.

episode 23: fullmetal heart

alphonse is destroyed again

poor kid

"edward sir" brosh pls!!!

oh excuse me--- ***Bloch

The Ross Slap™

winry <3

pinako takes no prisoners

ed didnt you JUST tell brosh and ross they might be right that you needed to trust adults with more shit and now youre blowing off hughes

ed's DRAWINGS im-

hi sig hi izumi!!!

al is so sad over there in that corner

poor baby son

sometimes i feel like hughes and mustang are ed and al's divorced dads

the little arakawa avatar cows in the back im CRYING!!!!!!!

“bean”

snappy al

ooffffffff

omg hughes plz

elicia is precious though we love her

"dad's friend the bookworm" omg sheska

awwww gracia made edward a cake!!!!!!!

god catch me cryin in the club

CONGRATULATIONS

"whatever" al im crying he's so sad

AL MADE BROSH OR WHOEVER CARRY HIS DESTROYED ARMOR TO THE ROOF IM ACTUALLY YELLING

"you goof"

yes winry you are correct boy is a goof

sir you are being so dramatic

give that baby a hug

"so called brother"

so we all know that was a knife through the heart for ed

al just jumped off a FUCKING ROOF and ED TRIED TO FOLLOW

so im crying

i liked this better when they HAD A CONVERSATION ABOUT AL'S FEARS AND MADE THE FUCK UP

episode 24: bonding memories

guess we're gonna play w my emotions again

sometimes like....one bit characters talk...like villager b ya know? and im like who are you i know that voice

so the nasty military has come to ruin some lives again

and barry for some reason

aww poor al

youre real you are!!!!!!

i just feel like people would know people that wear sunglasses in the rain would be ishvalan

but what do i know

obviously they dont have the white hair thing in this version

poor ed is so sad

these boys need a hug 

let me just *pulls out adoption papers*

well if scar doesnt have queen mei to adopt in 03, he’s got this little toothless boy

dont lie al you do care

ew i dont like her

the drama of this boy

so the nasty military has come to ruin some lives again part 2

apparently they are *mercenaries??? excuse me

i have some questions regarding this kid’s mom

well you know i can see why this kid feels this way about his mom

it does look like she ran off...

al and scar dream team up

HEY ED!!! HEY WINRY!!!

bout time

yall gonna have this talk now????

barry STOPPPPPP

brotherhood barry is the true king there i said it

damn scar you baddie

barry like....you already knew him

anyway

WHAT THE HELL

NO RICKKK!!!!!!

someone save this boy!!!!

oh good his mom “saved” him

ah damn thats pretty tragic

she didnt know they were right in front of her

ow

well my questions were answered

so she attacks with grape fanta. thats one way to do it

ed looks like such an angry gremlin right now this is a heartwarming moment sir please

why are ed and scar being so civil right now this is so weird

bye scar

we’ll see him again

see you later scar

episode 25: words of farewell

maes who let you buy that awful pink suit 

gracia please it better not have been you

mustang ew please

dont open the door lookin like that

what the hell are you doing in here 

so hughes WASNT in ishval here?

i think that takes a lot away from his character but anyway

bradley hangs around like a creep at every possible instant

why would bradley care about ishvalan refugees like hughes cmon

“unspeakable crimes” BRADLEY YOU LITERALLY CANNOT TALK

juliet douglas is this lady’s name

only took me 1000 episodes to figure that out

ED AND AL??? NOT DEALING WITH DANGEROUS THINGS??????? dont make me laugh assholes theyre lying thru their teeth

izumi time lets go

wow we’re still going to rush valley? wasnt really expecting that tbh

elicia i LOVE you!!!!!

ew kimblee “hi”

how did he lightning himself like that

if i were ishvalan i would not go to the south....yet ANOTHER war torn region of amestris but ok

okay

an amestrian desert biker gang rolled up to wreak havoc

HUGHES AHAHAHA 

tbh i wouldnt want to tell roy anything either stupid bitch

anyway

um why do i feel like its hughes’ death episode

he would not be shown tucking elicia in to bed otherwise 

please im not ready to be hurt again

oh no

yeah he just learned something about our girl juliet

ive been waiting for this information 

he’s gonna die before we learn anything helpful

yupppppp

hey lust figured you’d show up sooner or later

i too wish i could look that sexy pulling a kunai out of my forehead

SLOTH????????

did girly just say SLOTH

i- nothing about her seems particularly slothy but ok

u know what!!!!!!!!!!!!

ENVY HEYYY

DUMBASS ROY JUST HAAAAAD TO LEAVE

haha famous last words

oof it hurts every time

not the FUNERAL scene no!

time for me to go 

peace out homies im dead inside

yes my brigadier general 

NOT THE RAIN

COME ONNNNNN

hughes is sneezing six feet under

was ed supposed to be looking at hughes’ ghost

um....right

[artificialqueens]

turn my touches into neon light (Vanessa x Monique) - Ortega

a/n: i quite simply have no excuse for this, quarantine is clearly making mincemeat of my head and i just don’t give a shit about what i submit anymore, apparently? this is part of the n19f verse and is set in between chapters 16 and 17 but it can be read standalone, there’s nothing really essential to the plot here. the title’s from Bitches (Remix) by Tove Lo bc it was the catalyst to my bisexual awakening xo. anyway if u liked this pls let me know bc this genre is not my strong suit and i would love a crumb of Believing In Myself. (smut. it’s smut.)

summary: Vanessa’s still reeling from Brooke breaking things off with her and she’s not over her yet. Monique is willing to be everything she needs in the meantime.

***

The fairy lights strung up in Monique’s room are soft and warm, her heavy red curtains drawn and shutting all the light out, not as if there’s much light to be let in in the first place. The small black alarm clock on her wooden IKEA bedside table reads 21.24, and Vanessa only arrived a few moments ago from the library after getting a message from Monique saying she’d just bought some good wine that was on offer and she had nobody to drink it with. Vanessa suspects this is a white lie- even though Cracker is out on a date with that Kameron girl she’s seeing and Monet is obviously round at Nina’s (and Brooke’s, she reminds herself with a stab to her heart), Bob’s still in and she could quite easily have shared the wine with her. But then again, Vanessa thinks, biting back a smile, Monique doesn’t have the same relationship with her flatmate as she does with Vanessa.

“Two glasses! I should’ve just brought two straws, but we can at least pretend we’re classy,” Monique announces, almost booting the door off its hinges as she stumbles into her bedroom holding two wine glasses in one hand, a corkscrew in the other, and balancing a bottle of red very precariously in the crook of her elbow. Vanessa laughs, a little thrill running down her spine as Monique’s brilliant white smile gets flashed her way. Her hair’s orange today, a bouncy slick of wavy flames that Vanessa already can’t wait to tear her fingers through, and her eyelids are covered in glitter that’s making her brown eyes sparkle even more than they normally do.

Vanessa watches as Monique launches herself down on the bed beside her, giving scant regard for the glasses in her hand. She places them onto the duvet then begins driving the corkscrew into the top of the bottle.

“Oh shit, this bitch has a cork! We are so classy this evening,” Vanessa murmurs her approval, Monique smiling smugly beside her.

“Bitch, I told you it was good wine! You ain’t believe me or somethin’?” she narrows her eyes, Vanessa protesting with a laugh. Monique gives a little satisfied cry of delight as the cork pops out of the bottle. She snatches up one of the glasses and sloshes the crimson liquid into it, so thick and red that they may as well be drinking blood. Vanessa smiles shyly as Monique passes the glass to her, thanking her as she takes a small sip. This is nice. The wine, the curtains, the twinkling lights. It’s the nicest non-date that Vanessa’s been on in a while.

“See I might be a hoe, but I can be a lady when I want to be,” Monique shrugs lightly as she swirls her own wine around in its glass before taking a long drink. Vanessa lets out a derisive snort.

“You’re not a hoe, shut up.”

Monique fixes Vanessa with a look that makes her melt a little bit. “Bitch, if you don’t think I’m a hoe by now then I’m clearly not doing my job right.”

Vanessa feels herself blushing. It’s out of character for her. She’s so used to being the one with the upper hand, the confident one who knows she can make girls do anything she wants. That’s what she was with Brooke Lynn, anyway. But Monique has this intoxicating mystery to her that keeps Vanessa on her toes, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy not being the one calling the shots all the time. Vanessa can’t help but flirt back a little. “Oh, so what is your job?"

"Making you forget about your bitch-ass ex girlfriend?” Monique gestures as if it’s obvious. Vanessa feels another small stab to her gut.

“She wasn’t a bitch, don’t be mean! She just…wanted something else,” she explains, sipping her wine again. She feels her heartbeat accelerate when Monique rests a hand on her thigh.

“Okay, how ‘bout I call her…weird? ‘Cuz if she didn’t want you then that’s weird behaviour,” Monique says matter-of-factly. Vanessa smiles bashfully. She likes being flattered like this, likes being told things she hasn’t heard in a while. Monique brings out a coy, demure side to Vanessa that very rarely gets seen. She is so used to being outspoken, loud, confident, on transmit constantly.

“You can call her weird, then,” Vanessa murmurs, her pitch low as Monique traces patterns across her skin. Vanessa is glad she wore the outfit she did to the library- short denim skirt, oversized red jumper tucked into the waistband of it. Briefly, it flashes through her mind to wonder what underwear she put on this morning. It’s not like her and Monique are together- far from it, they are the definition of friends with benefits- but if the girl’s going to make her come, the least she can do is look presentable for her.

“’M glad you came round,” Monique says quietly, leaning against her purple headboard. Her hair is a shock of orange against the violet fabric. The admission is too soft, hits too close to home. Vanessa doesn’t know if she likes it or if it breaks her heart a bit. It sounds too much like being wanted.

“You would’ve found someone else to sink this with. Bob’s in, isn’t she?” Vanessa argues, unable to accept the compliment.

Monique shrugs her disagreement, her fingers gentle against Vanessa’s skin. “She ain’t Vanessa, though.”

She feels something in her body fizz when she hears Monique say her name; the little lilt to her voice and the way she drags it out like it’s the most beautiful word in the world. Vanessa gives a small shiver as she feels a throb between her legs. She shoots Monique a little smirk. “Stop flirting, bitch.”

Monique shuffles closer, a satisfied look on her face that makes Vanessa feel like a fly caught in a web in the best way possible. “If a cute girl’s in my bed, I’m gonna flirt with her. Sorry. Just facts."

Vanessa wants to reach out and touch Monique, wants her hands all over her body like the other night. Monique’s very experienced, something else that renders Vanessa speechless whenever they sleep with each other. Tentatively, Vanessa replaces her wine glass on one of the bedside tables and rests her free hand on Monique’s hip. The black leggings she’s wearing don’t leave a huge amount to the imagination. Monique senses her hesitation and pouts at her mock-sympathetically. "You know you can touch if you want to, baby.”

Vanessa lets out a little sigh at the pet name, which in turn makes something flash in Monique’s eyes and she goes from stroking the outside of Vanessa’s thigh to the soft skin on the inside. Vanessa wordlessly spreads her legs, the heat between them almost unbearable, and she wonders how Monique can make her so desperate to be touched in so few words and tracings against her skin.

“You’re so easy, Jesus,” Monique teases, and Vanessa is aching to kiss the smirk off her face but loves the anticipation too much to burst the bubble yet.

“You love it,” she bites back quietly, snaking a hand underneath Monique’s cropped t shirt to stroke along her spine. She’s rewarded by Monique throwing one leg over the other, her eyes dark as she looks at her. Monique places her own glass on her bedside table, Vanessa giving a little laugh. “Shit, how long did that last? Five minutes?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t know exactly why I wanted you round,” Monique retorts. Her hand strokes a little higher. Vanessa bucks her hips a little and Monique gives a little appreciative hum. “Damn. You’re so needy.”

“Be less needy if you weren’t such a tease,” Vanessa is ready with her comeback, Monique biting her lip and smiling as the frustration starts to show a little in Vanessa’s voice.

“I’m not teasin’, you’re just impatient,” Monique shrugs, Vanessa almost crying out in desperation as she pulls away. She’s rewarded when Monique grabs the hem of her top and pulls it over her head to reveal a red lace bralet that Vanessa hasn’t seen her wear before. The colour pops against her dark skin and Vanessa is torn between not taking her eyes off her in it or trying to tear it off her. Monique sees her reaction and replaces her hand between her legs, Vanessa giving a little sigh of anticipation as she speaks. “You like this?”

Vanessa simply nods, too scared that if she replies she’ll end up begging Monique to touch her, so she bites her lip instead. Monique gives a little smirk, takes her hand away again and quickly rips off her leggings to reveal matching red underwear, the top of which curves upwards to expose her hipbones and sits high near her waist. The whole thing makes Vanessa feel like she’s having a heart attack; she can feel her pulse racing. Unable to help herself, Vanessa reaches out, loops a finger under the elastic of the waistband and uses it to pull Monique in to kiss her. When their lips touch, Vanessa has to stop herself from letting out a moan. Monique kisses slowly and unrelentingly, completely ignoring Vanessa’s attempts to speed things up, and when she slides her tongue over Vanessa’s it reminds her of what it can do. Everything is hot and wet and languid and Vanessa can feel herself getting worked up. At this rate it’s not going to take a lot for Monique to make her come apart.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” Monique murmurs against her lips, and Vanessa whines like a brat as she tries to grind down against her fingers. Monique smiles smugly at the action, kissing her deeply. Vanessa runs a light hand up and down her back, letting her nails graze her skin slightly because she knows it drives Monique wild. As Monique hums her appreciation against her mouth, Vanessa can’t take it any longer and she throws a leg over Monique’s so that she’s straddling her. The sudden friction almost makes Vanessa’s eyes roll into the back of her head and judging by the expression on Monique’s face her reaction was well received. Vanessa bites back a whimper as Monique drops her lips down to her neck, kissing it slowly once and then a second time.

“You’re the most beautiful fuckin’ girl I’ve ever met, oh my God. I wish you could see yourself right now,” Monique whispers into her ear. Vanessa moans, can feel how wet she is through the fabric of her underwear against Monique’s bare skin, and she blushes as she realises she’s not going to last much longer if Monique keeps talking to her like this. As if she reads her mind, Monique keeps whispering. “I was so gutted when we met at that party because you were seeing that girl, and all I wanted to do was to get you into my room and make you beg for it…you were wearin’ that black satin body and I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you for days…”

Vanessa tilts her head to meet Monique’s lips, brings her jaw up to kiss her messily. As if to fulfil the fantasy Monique’s just told her about, Vanessa breaks away and whispers frantically. “Please, babygirl, please, please, please.”

“What do you want, princess?”

Vanessa is close and the pet name isn’t helping. She lets out a gasp as she bucks her hips, realises Monique’s touching herself with her free hand while the other is ripping out the hem of Vanessa’s sweater where it’s tucked into the waistband of her skirt. “Keep talking, fuck.”

“You want me to tell you how pretty you look, baby? You want me to tell you how fuckin’ pretty you look gettin’ yourself off against my thigh like a desperate lil’ brat?” Monique taunts her, Vanessa giving a squeal as Monique dips her fingers under the cup of her bra and brushes her fingers against one of her nipples. “You’ve not even taken your clothes off and you’re this wound up, fuck, you’re so wet and I’ve not touched you…”

Vanessa’s senses are in overload. Her hair is all in her face, Monique’s still teasing her nipples, and she can feel herself slick against Monique’s skin as she grinds against her thigh. Her clit is throbbing so much she feels like she’s going to explode. “M'nique, I’m gonna…fuck…”

“Go, baby. Do it,” Monique whispers. Her voice is low and sinful and she’s barely whispered her permission before Vanessa is crying out embarrassingly loudly, completely unable to control herself but not able to bring herself to care as she gives another, slightly quieter cry then a tiny squeal as she feels herself shudder, coming down from the high. She’s blushing as she kisses Monique, the other girl smiling against her lips, and Vanessa realises she’s still touching herself. She leans back and smiles, gasping a little and trying to collect herself.

“Shit,” is the first thought she can verbalise, causing Monique to laugh out loud. “That escalated fast.”

Monique nods, smiling guiltily. Vanessa looks at her spread out on the bed; hand down her pants, chest rising and falling quickly, hair spread out against the pillow, and the sheen Vanessa left against her thigh. The sight is enough to make Vanessa run her tongue over her lips slightly.

“You still want me, baby?” she murmurs quietly, Monique pouting and nodding again, a little needy sigh escaping her full lips. Vanessa tugs her sweater over her head, pulls her skirt over her ankles and tosses it onto the floor. She sits up and pats her lap gently. “C'mere."

Monique obediently crawls over to her, sits on her lap and kisses her as Vanessa threads her hands through her long, orange hair.

It’s nice to feel wanted.

[cilliansaccent]

Class of Temptation - CHAPTER TEN

Leave a like, reblog or comment below to show your support and love! Enjoy…

PLEASE READ:

No mention of Cillian’s true family or relatives. All names are made up.

This is a TEACHER x STUDENT fanfiction, it’s going to be kinky and very taboo!

I will write whenever the mood grabs me, so I apologise if there are long breaks between chapters :)

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Background: Tessa is a twenty-three-year-old model from a broken-up family, living in London with her best friend and starting a course on Drama and Theatre. Though, when she gets closer to the super hot Mr Murphy who is her much older teacher, there is a battle of lust and love between them. They’ll have to figure out what to do with their tight relationship as other issues begin to rise and nip at their heels…

Word Count: 5,452

!!Warnings!!: Major sex scene at the end!

Chapter Name: Princess

Brief Chapter Outline: A new week starts and Tessa spends another afternoon with Cillian, her feelings wild for the man as she realises that this won’t go away. The day ends with Elijah and some very passionate exchange...

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Tessa walked up to her Uni after she had driven here. It was a first after a long time that she got to drive, Esther had to use her car most of the time when she had to travel around London and outside of it. Which was fine, but when it was raining, Tessa didn't like to walk from the station to her class. She always got drenched.

She shook her umbrella before tucking it into its sleeve and putting it back into her bag. She had half an hour to get to class but she didn't want to go in first. Not after what happened yesterday with Cillian... Fuck, she had a night. She really couldn't get him out of her mind. All she could think was of him, his hands roaming along her body, his hips parting her legs to make room and a single thrust into her which she knew would make her back arch...

"Fuck! Watch where you are going!" Sofia yelled as she dropped her books on the floor.

"You are so stupid! What the fuck!" Camila, Sofia's second in command, shoved Tessa against the wall.

"Sorry!" Tessa let out a gasp as her back came into contact with the hard wall.

"Sorry isn't enough, bitch." Victoria chimed in, Luna and Layla circled in.

"Whatever, I gotta go." Tessa tried to shove through but she was pushed back.

"Not so fast. You need to fucking pay up, whore." Sofia was all up in her face. "How much you carrying, huh? Let's see." Sofia went to reach for Tessa's bag to take her wallet but Tessa was not having it.

She shoved her hand away, "Fuck off. I am not giving you my money anymore."

"Oh? You getting all tough now, huh?" Sofia moved closer, almost chest to chest.

"Yeah. I've had enough of this shit. I don't even know why you need money, it's clear you got enough. So move the fuck away so I can go." Tessa went to shove her but she was pushed back again.

She let out a gasp again, the force was harsh and she felt a painful sting in her shoulders, "You have no right to talk to me like that." Sofia grabbed her by the hair, yanking her back.

The worst thing was in this part of the hallway, no one really came by. It had very small, private rooms students would rent out and at this early hour, no one was here. Fuck.

"You are nothing here. Just another whore. You don't own anything." Sofia snarled as she yanked Tessa's bag and gave it to Camila who riffled through it.

Tessa hated that word. Whore. It made her angry and she pushed Sofia back by using her hands against her face, "Get the fuck off me! Jesus Christ!" She struggled as the hold in her hair only tightened.

"You can't tell me what to do bitch! Hold her down!" Sofia had let her go as Camila and Victoria grabbed Tessa's arms and held her back.

"You are so gonna pay," Sofia balled up her fist and made to-

"HEY! What the fuck is going on?!" Elijah's angry growl cut through the group and the girls jumped back.

"Oh get lost, Elijah. We're only teaching your little toy here a lesson." Sofia rolled her eyes as he came over.

"Fuck out of here, you really are such a bitch." He grabbed Tessa's bag, staring down at the brown-haired woman.

"Whatever. I'd recommend not being with this slut. God knows what she's been up to all week in that hotel room with all those other people." Sofia scoffed as the girls walked away leaving them be.

Tessa was shaken up, hugging herself as she leaned against the wall. Her eyes were wide as tears streamed down her face.

"Jesus." Elijah set her bag down and gently cupped her face, "Tess. Hey, look at me." He said with a gentle voice, bringing her pretty eyes upwards. "Let's go and report them for this. This is not right."

"No, Elijah. I don't want to." She shook her head, wiping her tears quickly.

"Why not? They are literally tormenting you." He frowned, shocked to hear that.

"Just- No. I can deal with this. Please." She picked up her bag and the other cotton one that had the clothes Cillian had offered to her.

Elijah's shoulders sagged, but he sighed, "Fine. Fine." His hands were on her shoulders before he pulled her in for a hug.

Tessa welcomed the hug and wrapped her arms around him, his strong body enveloping hers. She was warm, "I know you want to help, Elijah. But I want to do this on my own."

"But she was going to hit you, I can't allow that to slide." Elijah murmured.

She glanced up, "Let it slide. I will deal with this." She said with a stern voice, giving him a look to make it as she meant it.

His lips were a thin line, "Okay. I trust you." He said but he would make sure to keep an eye out for her. "Can I ask you something?"

She nodded as they began to walk together, "Go ahead."

"Could we go out tonight? Like dinner?" He asked her.

"Dinner?" She raised her brows as she looked up at the handsome man.

"Yeah. I could pick you up at seven?" He looked hopeful.

She laughed lightly, "Okay. Sure. Seven it is. May I know where it is?"

He grinned, "Nope. It's a secret." He said.

She rolled her eyes, "Okay. I'll be ready by then."

"Sweet. I best let you go then. Meet up for lunch too?"

Tessa thought for a moment, "Yeah. Come back here and we can go together." She said before she leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Elijah." She smiled sweetly and ducked into her classroom, leaving him blushing red.

Julian was not in class for a change, usually, he was here before anyone else.

Cillian was here though, seated behind his desk. He glanced up and smiled at Tessa, "Morning, Tess."

"Morning. Here you go." She had come over and handed him the bag.

"What is it?" He took it, peering in.

"The clothes you gave me. I washed them up. Also here." She handed him the handkerchief he had given to her a couple of weeks back. Sofia and her squad had walked in as well and seemed to notice the interaction.

"Oh, thank you. You didn't need to go to such lengths but I appreciate that." Cillian smiled as he took the cloth from her hand.

"You can also keep the bag too," Tessa returned the smile, "I've got plenty." She said.

"Alright. Thanks again." He nodded once.

She turned and went to sit down, pulling out her stuff and organising herself for the day. Class started soon after and Julian still had not made an appearance. Only thirty minutes before class ended he came but seemed quite troubled.

"You okay?" Tessa asked when it came to working with a group partner, she made sure they were good.

"I'm fine." Julian gave a curt reply and began to work on the given questions.

Tessa knew she wasn't going to get through to him so she let it go. But as she looked over at the snakes sitting across from her, they were snickering and looking over at them.

Something must have happened again and she wasn't there to stop it. She cursed silently and looked back at her best friend, "Julian. I want you to know I am here for you, okay? I don't want you to be silent and let whatever eat at you. You know it's no good and you are really hurting-"

It was like a switch had been flicked and Julian turned to her with such anger she was shocked, "Just shut up! I don't need anything from you!"

Cillian looked up from the folder he was looking at, his glasses sat on his nose, "Julian. What is the matter?"

"Nothing! Oh my god. Just- I want to work. Please." He kept his head down, shaking it.

Tessa frowned. She had no idea what just happened, she hadn't even pestered him about anything either.

"Well, it's not nice to talk to Tessa like that. She is only trying to help." Cillian had heard Tessa talk softly to the boy and was surprised the anger Julian had shown her for something so simple.

"Yeah, bit late now. She wasn't even here for a whole week to fucking help me." Julian snapped.

"Excuse me, do not swear in this class, Julian. Apologise to Tessa." Cillian said.

"Oh, no it's fine. He doesn't-"

"Julian," Cillian cut of Tessa, "Apologise."

Julian grounded his teeth and looked at her, his eyes held so much hurt and pain, "Sorry." He said without meaning it. He then got up and packed up his stuff.

"Where are you going? Class has not finished." Cillian said, his brows furrowed and annoyance shone in his eyes.

"Home," Julian said.

"We have half an hour to go, you can wait." Cillian's harsh tone only made Julian angrier.

"Yeah. Whatever. Too long for me." He grabbed his backpack and headed out.

"Julian!" Cillian called out as he stood to go stop him but he was already out of the door. He sighed and looked over at Tessa. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." She nodded, settling back in her chair. Sofia and her girls snickered softly to each other as if they knew this was coming.

Tess watched them whisper and laugh, they must've done something to him. Fuck, she thought with dread. She had to talk to him one way or another. Maybe she should tell Cillian. She debated it till the class ended and everyone filed out.

"Is everything okay with you and Julian?" Cillian had come over, his work bag slung over his shoulder.

"I... Think so. I don't... Really know why he acted like that, really." She stood up, lifting her bag.

"Huh, I see. He did seem quite strung up last week as well. I'll have to talk to him." He said.

"Leave it to me. I can get through to him, might make it easier for him as well." Tessa quickly said, wanting to find out herself and see whether Julian wanted a teacher involved.

"You sure? I don't want any issues to hinder your studies or your project with him." Cillian gestured for her to follow him out of the classroom.

"I'm sure. I promise you I will come to you if there are any issues." Once out of the classroom, the bitches were hanging around a little further down the hallway and watched them.

"Okay. I trust you with that. Now, I could not book a room for us today in the afternoon so we will head into my office. Is that okay?" He asked.

She liked how he always asked her first if she was okay with doing anything with him during these private lessons. It made her feel safer, "Of course. Fine by me."

"Alright." He reminded her of the building number and the level and told her to ring him on the phone in the foyer. He left and soon after Elijah came around with a wonderful grin.

"Hey, pretty lady." He winked and hugged her.

"Hi," she laughed softly, "I'm hungry. Let's go." She bumped her hip to his.

"You're always hungry." He rolled his eyes.

"Indeed. I am a growing girl, and growing girls need plenty of food!" Tessa said. Elijah was someone she had not expected to warm up so fast, he had a wonderful personality and was cool with whatever she was doing. He always made sure to find time for her even if it was only for an hour or less. Though she could not find herself telling Elijah about her issues behind closed doors, those things were... A sensitive topic for her and she wasn't sure if she would ever be able to talk about them.

Tessa had tried therapy at one point, but it became way too stressful for her and she found herself almost falling back into that dark pit. It would take a hell of a lot to overcome her past and the shit she had to go through when she lived with her dumbass father and that witch of a woman. Especially with those sons...

That was something she did not want to think about right now. She would enjoy her lunch with Elijah, make her way to the library and do some work before meeting up with Cillian later today.

Yeah. She would enjoy her time now, no need to dwell on the past. A waste of her time.

It was now late afternoon and Tessa was heading to the building Cillian had his office in, headed up the elevator and called him up through the phone provided in the closed-off foyer. She waited for a few minutes when he came through the doors with a wonderful smile.

"Hey, Tess. Good to see you, come on." He waved her over and she followed him.

She glanced around, taking in the space and walls, hearing the chatter of other teachers talking to each other or on phones.

Cillian brought her into the office and shut the door behind him. The room was fairly large but clean and tidy, shelving lined the walls on either side of the desk, packed with folders and boxes and a couple of books. His desk was big and covered in papers all neatly stacked. His laptop was open and music was playing through it.

"Take a seat. Let me just move some things around." He said as he began to pack away the stacked files into drawers as Tessa sat down in the chair.

She stayed silent the whole time as she pulled out her laptop and held it on her lap and watched him but at the same time didn't. More like glance quickly as he moved around. She couldn't help it though. He looked absolutely adorable in his glasses, mumbling softly to himself once the desk was cleared.

"There we go. I'll sit next to you." He said as he pulled out what looked like notes and turned his laptop around for her to see. He brought up last week's stuff and got right to it. They managed to do a day and a half worth of work in the two hours they spent together. Tessa worked hard to keep up and type away her notes and any extra's he told her.

"Hey, you managed to talk to Julian?" Cillian asked once they were done and he was packing up his stuff as well as she was too.

"Uh, no. He hasn't responded to my texts. Might try and talk to him tomorrow if he shows up." Tessa said as she pulled on her coat. She watched how he did the same, he was fixing the lapels of his coat and smoothing it out. But he hadn't fixed his collar and it was bothering her.

"Huh, okay. Well, I hope he does come. Tomorrow's lesson is- what are you doing?" He cocked an eyebrow as she had come closer, those delicate fingers reaching up and behind his neck. He felt her fix the collar, the soft tips and the gentle scrape of her nails against his neck made his skin rise in gooseflesh.

"Collar wasn't folded right." She said. Her cheeks warmed a little, the sudden courage to fix his coat was something that had suddenly come out of her. Totally not because she wanted to be close to him. Definitely not because of that reason.

"Oh, alright. Thanks." He said without an ounce of judgment or awkwardness. Cillian took it as it was. Her hands slid down his shoulders before she stepped back with a smile. God that smile made her wonderfully beautiful. Fuck, what the hell.

"Now you look better. Gotta check yourself more thoroughly." She nodded as she slung her back over her shoulder.

He smiled as they walked out of his office together, "I know. But why should I when I got you." He teased.

She scoffed, "I am not your maid." She rolled her eyes.

"Just a friend looking out for me, then," Cillian said as they entered the elevator.

"Friend?" She blinked, looking up at him.

"Yeah. I consider all my students as friends and I'd like to make sure they know that. And that they can come to me for any issues they have. Friends do that." He said with sincerity.

Her heart fluttered and she looked away quickly, her emotions suddenly rolling through her. Glee, hope, desire and excitement. She could tell he was genuine about his words and his motives, he had always been like that since the first week.

"I understand I could be overstepping the line, but I really want you especially to know I will not... Hurt you or do anything you do not like. You may talk to me about whatever that concerns you, may it be big or small." His hand came to rest on her forearm, his thumb moving up and down.

The touch made her stomach flip and fill with butterflies and she slowly turned to him, her eyes moving up his body to hold his gaze. She was sort of surprised by what she saw in them; longing. Everything about this seemed so... Wrong and yet she was so willing to go with it and push those thoughts aside. Step over that boundary and say fuck it.

Tessa hadn't realised she had stepped closer to him until the elevator doors slid open and she jumped back and they both cleared their throats.

"Thank you for today. I will see you tomorrow." She said quickly and darted out of the metal cabin and headed to her car before Cillian could reply to her.

He watched her scurry off and wondered what had just happened in the elevator. He licked his lips and looked around as if he had walked into something foreign. First, he was simply reminding Tessa that he was there for her and then... She had stepped closer. He could still remember that sweet perfume she had on, it seemed like fuel for his soul, her gaze that seemed to take him under a spell... Fuck, thoughts wandered into his brain and he cursed again. This was so not right and yet, he couldn't fucking get her out of his head. "Fuck me." He muttered as he stalked to his car, catching her driving off.

Tessa was like a train at full speed, rolling down the tracks without a care in the world. She was flushed all over, her breasts aching and tight and her core like fire. She needed pleasure, and she wanted it from one person only.

Her goddamn teacher.

She had thought these feelings were just fleeting, something that would pass eventually and she would be fine. But it seemed these quiet feelings were only growing more and more the longer she stared at him. She shook her head, trying to rid them.

Tonight she would see Elijah. And enjoy her night with the guy who had taken in such interest in her.

Nighttime...

Dinner had gone swell with Elijah. He had picked out a good place to eat, a nice pub in the middle of London. She ordered Fish and Chips as it was her go-to thing when it came to pubs here, she loved the dish. They chatted about new music that was coming out and had organised to go to a gig this coming weekend. He would bring some of his own mates to and she would bring Esther if she could come.

But she couldn't stop staring at him. Elijah had kept his hair natural and simply combed back the long strands out of his face. He had a light scruff along those sharp cheeks and jaw. He wore tight skinny black jeans and a turtle neck jumper the colour of chocolate.

"What?" He laughed as he took a swig of his beer which was his second... Or third. Who knows.

"Nothin'." She huffed, taking a sip of her third red wine. She had worn a black jumper that was tight on her with a leather black skirt and polka-dot stockings and pointed toe heels. The only splash of colour she had was the bright blue bag which had a floral design of multi-coloured flowers.

"Yeah, sure. You looking at me as if I am like, dessert." He mused, leaning forward on those powerful arms.

She snorted, "Mm, well, you might be since you look like that." She admitted alcoholic drinks tend to make her a little more confident in flirting than sober.

"Oh yeah? I look that good you wanna eat me?" Elijah's hand slid over the table and over hers. His skin was warm and soft as he turned her palm, his fingers tracing her wrist and down into her palm.

She glanced down, the tingling sensation of his touch moving up her arm, "I'd be a cannibal but I don't care." She said lowly, holding his gaze.

"Mm, I know I taste good. Look at me, I am a perfectly cooked chicken nugget." Elijah said with no shame whatsoever. And sort of killing the mood.

But Tessa let out a bark of a laugh from his words, clutching his hand, "You're so stupid, you know that?" She was still giggling.

He laughed with her, finding her laugh sweet, "Oh yeah I am. And a hopeless flirt. I cannot do the whole serious thing without ruining it."

"Oh, you didn't ruin it really. I just didn't expect it." She shook her head, her smile grand.

Elijah scooted over to her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "I didn't?" He asked, his head bowed to her.

"No, you didn't. I promise you." She looked up, his green eyes shone in the low light. She felt his hand move down from her shoulder and to her waist.

"Okay, I believe you." He murmured, his fingers slipped under the waistband of her skirt.

Tessa leaned more into his hard body, her fingers splayed on his thigh, "Eli..." She murmured, her skin growing warm once more. Right now, she felt fully safe with this man beside her. They had known each other for some weeks now and she could easily call him her best friend despite he didn't really know her backstory. Nor did he ever ask or seemed bothered she never told him.

Elijah cupped her cheek with his other hand, "You know you are incredibly beautiful." He said it in a way that it wasn't a question.

"I don't believe that but I can believe it when it comes from you." She spoke with a soft gasp, his thumb stroking her cheek.

"Always believe that. You are a beautiful woman who I am thankful for meeting." The next moment shocked her.

Elijah kissed her. It was a soft caress type, testing the waters.

She reached out and gripped his shoulder, pulling him in and indicating she wanted him to kiss her more. So he did by deepening it. She parted her lips and welcomed him in, letting his tongue swept over hers. A sound escaped them both and his hand that was on her cheek moved down, brushing over her breast and he let out a grunt as he felt around her chest.

"No bra?" He muttered against her lips.

"I tend not to wear one, gets uncomfortable." She had her arms half around his neck and pecked at his lips as he squeezed her breast. She let out a gasp.

"Like that?" His lips brushed her nose.

"I do." She bit her bottom lip her eyes darted around the main floor of the pub but it seemed no one was looking at them. "Maybe we should take this elsewhere?" She asked.

"Why? Afraid you might get caught?" His hand continued its descent, over her abdomen and to her thigh.

"No. But I don't want to get in trouble." Tessa's legs parted slightly with the help of him before that damned hand began to go up the inside of her thigh. "Elijah! No!" She laughed softly as she tried to push his hand away.

"You like this, I can see it." He growled against her ear as his hand shot forward to meet the barrier of stocking and cloth. His middle finger rubbed up and down against that barrier.

Tess let out a soft moan, clutching him as she leaned further back into the booth they were seated in, "O-Oh Elijah." His finger continued to do its motion against her before he pressed harder, "God, are you drenched already?" His lips were hot against her neck.

"Yeah. Oh, Elijah- I want to take this elsewhere." She locked her legs around his hand, gripping his forearm and tried to stop his touching.

"Where would you like to go then? I could drive us somewhere quiet and dark." Elijah grunted when she began to rub against his crotch with her leg.

She looked around and then to the bathroom, "Toilets. I don't think I can wait till you drive and find a place." She sighed in relief when he pulled back and looked over to the dark hallway that leads to the toilets.

"Oh? Wanna fuck in public, hey?" He smirked getting up and holding out his hand for her to take.

She stood and smirked back, "It's not really public." She said as they walked to the bathrooms. He took a peek in the men's bathroom.

"All clear, beautiful." He said and she looked around and ducked in quickly. He took her to the farthest stall and lucky for them it had a broken light. Once in, he had her back to the hard wall and was kissing her feverishly. Her arms locked around his neck and her fingers deep into his hair.

Elijah's hands roamed all over her and hitched up her skirt to her waist and then ripped her stockings between her legs.

"Elijah! No! My stockings!" She cried out frowning as she glanced over.

"I'll get you new ones." He kissed her to shut her up and she instantly forgave him like that. Tessa reached down to his belt buckle and swiftly undid them, pulling out his hard length. She felt no man as big as he was and she moaned in delight.

"Fuck." She said, stroking the velvet shaft.

"You like it, hm?" He had his hands braced on the wall on either side of her.

"Yeah. And I want you inside me, hun." She gritted her teeth.

"Gladly." He reached down and lifted her up and got her to lock her legs around him. "Get me in, princess. I want you." He kissed her cheeks and her jaw then her neck.

"Mmm," She replied. She pushed aside her lacy thong and brought his thick head to her dripping core. "Thrust." She whispered with anticipation.

Elijah grunted as he pushed forward. He came with resistance but felt her open up as he kept going deeper and deeper. Her moans were muffled as she buried her head into his shoulder, biting down on the fabric of his jumper. "Holy fucking Christ." He said, stilling once he was balls deep in her.

"Fuck me, Elijah. Please, Christ, fuck me." She begged softly, her body undulating against him.

"I am no God." He groaned and began to thrust.

The fucking was rough, he bent her legs more outwards to get further into her and it made her cry out suddenly. He had hit a sweet spot and kissed her to quiet her heavenly moans. Her lovely breasts under her jumper bounced from the thrusts he gave her and he wished he could just tear the damn shirt to see them. But God he didn't want to wait any longer, he wanted to be inside her. Her walls were tight and hugged him, drawing out the pleasure in intense waves.

They had almost got caught when a group of guys walked in and they had to suddenly stop. Tessa held back a laugh as she kept her face buried in his neck.

"Oi, you two back there. We know you in 'ere. We won't be long." The boys snickered and one of them banged on the door.

"Give it to her, man!" One yelled.

Elijah gave Tessa a look and she smirked, nodding.

Elijah did indeed, give it to her. Her loud cry from his sudden speed made the guys holler in the bathroom and cheer him on. It wasn't long they left them be.

The idea of being caught thrilled Tessa and brought her to the edge, and it was soon after she was crying out his name and she came hard on his cock.

"Knees. Now." Elijah grunted as he set her down. She collapsed on her knees and she opened her mouth wide for him as he pumped himself. His groans were deep and guttural, one hand braced on the wall above her before he barked out and came on her face. His seed was hot and thick and a lot. 

He panted when he stilled, his knees bent and his hair disarray on his head. He looked down at her, seeing her messy face and her black jumper had thick blobs on it.

"Oh, my God." She whispered, leaning back against the wall with a grin. "You animal." She wiped his cum off her face and began to lick her fingers.

Fuuuuuuuuck, he thought as she did her best to clean herself up.

"Indeed. Holy crap that was amazing." He reached down and helped her up before getting her to sit down on the toilet lid.

"It was." She giggled watching him clean himself up with tissues and tucked himself away.

"Did you like it?" He asked before he began to clean her face up. She let him and smiled more.

"Oh, it was so good, Elijah. So, so good." She said softly.

He smiled and leaned in, kissing her deeply, "I'm glad you liked it, Princess."

She shivered at the nickname and stood. Her legs were wobbly but she was okay, she tried to fix herself up but her stockings were ruined. She simply tugged her skirt down after she cleaned up and adjusted her jumper.

"Stay at my place tonight," Elijah said as he pulled her close, hands on her ass.

"Okay. I will." She nodded and they left the stall and the bathroom.

Those same boys were outside and smirked at Elijah, "Damn bro, you are totally mad."

She watched the interactions and it seemed he knew them, she raised a brow as they walked away from them, his arm around her waist, "You know 'em?" She asked.

"Yeah. Buddies from work. They mean no harm." He smiled at her as they came to his car.

"They hype you up like this? Or is this like, a random chance that they saw us?"

"Not really. I think it's just the chance they saw us. You aren't upset, are you?" He held open the door for her.

"No. I'm not." She leaned up and kissed him softly.

He squeezed her side and closed the door after her. He drove back to his apartment he shared with his best mate who was still back in the pub, he had explained that to her as they got into his room.

"Interesting. I bet he'll be there for a while?" She asked as she stood at the end of the double bed Elijah had. His room was full of band posters and shelves covered in Pop Vinyls, superhero figurines and many books. She smiled at the disorderly room. She loved it.

"Yeah, I think so. Why?" Elijah had gone into his own bathroom to wash his face. As he walked out he let out a gasp.

Tessa had stripped and laid face down on his bed, her ass up in the air and she was fingering herself.

"Cause I don't want that toilet fuck to be the only fuck tonight." She moaned, slipping her fingers deep inside her.

Elijah hissed as he discards his clothing lightning fast and was upon her in no time, grabbing her hair and yanking her back and made her scream all night long.

Neither of them was sure whether it was the bed banging on the wall or the neighbour's fists to shut them up. Oh well, they can deal with it. Tessa wasn't too concerned, too wrapped up in pleasure.

[username-echo-is-taken]

Roadtrip~CNCO Headcanon

OMG GUYS THERES 300 OF YOU FOLLOWING ME LIKE WTF IM SHOOK!!!! In celebration of that I decided to finally finish a request I received MONTHSSS ago! But I hope you guys enjoy! I LOVE YOU ALL 🥰❤️

Requested: “headcanon about the guys going on a long drive with them being the driver” by @cedanana 3 MONTHS AGO ASLKGSHFL I’M SOOOO SORRY!!! I started working on this forever ago and welp here we are now, and it’s not even good 🙃and it’s not even what you really asked for sorry bby 😔

Warnings: horrible writing skills LMAO

Author’s Note: this is wayyyyy too long to post as one so I’m posting one half today and the other half tomorrow when I finish it! So sorry for the inconvenience!

Zabdiel: Sightseeing as much of Puerto Rico!-several hours and stops

It’s your first time visiting Puerto Rico and Zabdi is sooo excited for his amor to explore his island with him

Neither of you slept much because y’all stayed up late going over your route plan for the 10th time

He wakes up earlier than you to make breakfast

Brings it to you in bed like the gentleman he is...but you’re two bites in when he starts rushing you out of pure excitement lol

You ask him to pick out your outfit bc 1.) he knows the weather and activities so he can dress you appropriately and 2.) you want him to enjoy EVERY little thing about your trip...he thinks this trip is about you but to you it’s all about him, seeing him so happy and excited makes your heart melt UWU BITCH 😭

Your first stop is to get snacks obvio

He takes you to all the cool spots close to his house to get them out of the way *insert small photo shoot*

The next destination is about an hour away so cue the carpool karaoke!!

Of course he’s singing like an angel on Earth and well let’s just say you were not that impressive YIKES

You got videos of both but only the ones of him are posted so you can keep some of your dignity lol

Zabdi being Zabdi, he randomly pulls over to the side of the road, jumps out of the car, picks a pretty flower, and gives it to you, “una belleza pa’ mi bellisima novia”

YOU LOVE THIS MAN™️

Little do you know that he has been taking secret pictures and videos of you to add to the album on his phone so whenever he has to go away on tour he can always have a piece of his amor

By the end of the trip you are completely IN LOVE with the island, appreciating all of its beauty with the love of your life

When you get back, after you’ve had a shower and are in bed you get a notification that Zabdiel De Jesus has uploaded a picture….you look over at him and he has a tiny smirk on his face and he lets out a giggle bc he uploaded the LEAST flattering picture of you from when you caught him taking a picture so you made an ugly face at him

Butttt don’t worry he also posted nice ones bc he’s nice like that

Joel: Disneyland!-Hesperia to Disneyland-under 2 hours depending on traffic

It’s Christmas time and it’s your first year spending it with Joel and his family (ok but who wouldn’t want to spend it with them?! It looks so fun!)

They all find out you’ve never been to Disney and it’s like a bullet to the chest to them LMAO

Soooo Joey has taken it upon himself to take your Disney virginity lol

He likes to be very organized so of course he made a list of which rides y’all are gonna go on and in what order

He makes sure you’re all asleep at a good time bc he knows how you get if you don’t get enough sleep lol

You two wake up a little earlier to help his mom make sandwiches and snacks for the journey

Since there are so many of y’all going you have to take two cars, his mom driving one and him driving the other

He asks everyone for songs to add to the playlist he created and y’all jam tf out

The music is so loud his mom has his little brother call you and tell y’all to TURN THAT SHIT DOWN cause they can hear it from their car OOPS

When you make it there, barely alive bc Joelito decided to get distracted by some freakin birds...yea...birds... you’re a little worried if his plan will work because it’s PACKED, I mean c’mon what did he expect around Christmas

He knows it too and he has a sad little pout on his cute face making you sad too because who wants to see this baby sad???

He just wants this to be the best first experience

What he doesn’t realize is that you could literally just sit in silence with him and you would be over the moon

You spend the day, holding hands, walking around, riding the rides, just having an amazing time

You’re having sooo much fun you don’t even think about getting some pictures together but don’t worry his brothers and cousins have it handled lmao

Your favorite is a video of you and Joel dancing when he twirls you around and pulls you back into his chest for a hug, and you definitely feel like a princess

During the drive back home, everyone in the back seats are asleep and you whisper to Joel how much fun you had and how much you love and appreciate him for everything

Homeboy wants to cry deadass lol

He holds your hand while he drives and every so often he brings it up to his mouth so he can give it a kiss

When you get home he makes you a hot chocolate and you stay up for a while just talking and enjoying each other’s company before snuggling up to go to sleep

Richard: Universal Resort!-Miami to Orlando-3 ½ hours

This papi wants to take his 2 girls out for a fun weekend, and where can you have fun all day without getting tired..? UNIVERSAL!! (not that I would actually know bc i’ve never actually been LMAO)

The 3 of you are beyond excited, although you might be a bit more excited than Aaliyah, but shhh no one has to know

The night before, you sit in Aaliyah’s room, asking her about certain outfits before putting them in her little ‘going-away-bag’, before tucking her into bed, not noticing that Richard has been watching with a smile on his face, until you hear him walking towards his baby girl to kiss her goodnight OOF

Soft Papi Richard makes you swoon™️

You guys then move to your room to pack your stuff

We all know he would take longer to pack his stuff because “this shirt matches these pants, but so does this one...i’ll take both...but what shoes tho?”

Since you’ve been so excited you already mentally planned your outfits lol and maybeee,just maybe, you bought 2 new swimsuits that you know he would drool over

You’re already in bed by the time Rich is finally done, you’re halfway asleep when he gets into bed so he just kisses your forehead and plays with your hair

In the morning, you get up a few minutes earlier than planned so you can make a few sandwiches and a few other snacks, but you already know they’re gonna be gone within the first hour so a pitstop for food is a must lol

CNCO is playing the entire ride because Aaliyah wants to hear Papa sing, but who are you kidding, you want to hear your angel sing too

When you finally get to Universal you quickly get to your room and leave just as fast as you got there lol

Y’all spend the entire first day going on rides and just walking around admiring all the beautiful things

You and Richard are both half asleep on the way back to the room, and Aaliyah is asleep in his arms

The next morning (almost lunch because y’all wore yourselves out lmao) you have brunch in bed and watch a movie for a while before getting ready to go to the pool!

Let’s just say that your man’s jaw drops real quick, and he most def can’t keep his hands off of you

You spend a few hours at the pool, enjoying the water and the sun before heading back to the room to take a nap before dinner

Y’all were going to a somewhat fancier restaurant so you spent a bit more time doing your hair and makeup before putting on a beautiful dress

You then get Aaliyah into her dress and you do her hair all cute and shit while Richard is finishing getting ready

After dinner comes desert obviously so back to the park you go to find some ice cream!

You quickly but thoroughly enjoy it before heading back to the room to change into comfy clothes for the drive back home

[mercifuldeaths]

Vertigo: Chapter 1: Riptide

Vertigo: Chapter 1

Riptide

This fic is in progress.

Jim Mason x Reader

Warnings for this chapter: Graphic descriptions of drug use. 

Summary: Y/N meets the bay boys at Lunada where the surf culture is a bit different from where she comes from. Jim has a typical night with his mother but finds his mind wandering. 

Notes: This fic will be approx. 12 chapters in length so please be patient with the pacing. This simply acts as the introduction. 

Y/N is a component to the story, but this fic belongs to Jim. It’s a deep dive into his psyche and I hope you enjoy it as the story progresses. 

Word Count: 2.7k

It was one of those days where everything was a little too perfect.

She woke up early, but clear-headed and optimistic. Her father must have filled up her Jeep with gas, so she didn’t have to stop on her way to get coffee. She managed to evade all the stoplights on her way to get said coffee. They didn’t fuck up her order like they usually did and the barista managed a polite smile when he handed it over.

Y/N was a realist, some would say a pessimist or nihilist, but no. She just knew the universe liked to keep balance. So when she decided to check out Lunada for the first time she expected some mushy waves or something to counteract her good morning. She did not, however, expect the group of guys huddled around some pickup truck to start some shit.

“Yo, you can’t surf here,” a lean brunette in a denim jacket shouted from his perch on the hood of the truck. The others looked over in her direction as well, one shaking his head, the other checking her out.

“It’s locals only,” the one with stringy blonde hair offered in explanation. He blew out smoke from the cigarette he was sucking on.

“Don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m a local.” Y/N shrugged. Dealing with locals was nothing new for her but it had been some time. Back home she had her common haunts and everyone just kind of accepted her as a part of the environment. Sometimes she was there, sometimes she wasn’t. “I just moved.”

“From?” the older blonde prompted and she assumed him to be the ringleader of the group.  

“East coast.”

They all started laughing and she felt her cheeks redden, hoping that her sunglasses would help block her embarrassment. “There’s no surf there,” A different guy stated.

“Long Island,” she hinted. “Montauk, Outer Banks, Miami,” she listed.

“Mmmmhmmm. I’ve heard of some,” the third one, another blonde, started nodding in understanding and the others shot him a glance. He sat up straighter, realizing his mistake in the smallest act of betrayal. “Still can’t surf here. No chicks, sorry.”

Y/N wasn’t completely convinced. She understood localism. Yeah, you don’t need more people filing into an already packed lineup and she suddenly realized that maybe she had been like these guys back home.

She remembered a few times she had personally turned away some people coming, especially on the big days before hurricanes would hit. It was justifiable though, they didn’t move there, after all. Leaning over to look down the cliff she saw a few people paddling out. One of note had waist length blonde hair.

“Where I’m from the guys respect a girl in the water. There’s someone down there already. Must have snuck past your patrol,” she gestured to the lone blonde down there starting to file into the lineup.

“She doesn’t count. That’s Jim’s sister,” the greasy blonde said, rolling his eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well, you seem to be breaking your own rules. So, because I live here now, I’m a local. And because there’s already a girl down there, I’ll be joining her.” Y/N started walking to the rocky trail leading to the beach until she felt a sharp tug on her arm. She yelped but managed to not drop her board that was safely tucked under her arm. She grabbed her arm back and held it to her chest, on instinct. Their greasy leader was too close for comfort but she refused to take a step back. “What are you gonna do?” She laughed a little manic, adrenaline pulsing and her eyes holding a fire behind them.

The three of them all looked at a loss. If she were a guy, she wouldn’t have even made it that far. Chad still considered punching her but recalled the issues he already had against him for domestics with his ex.

Jim was standing now, moving closer to the tense pair, aware of the damage Chad could cause. As much as he didn’t want anyone taking their waves, he didn’t want to see the girl hurt, especially if she just moved there. He remembered how awkward it was when he and Medina moved, especially for Medina being the only woman in a group of rowdy guys. But he just stood, unable to bring himself to any action. Thankfully, Chad was already standing down.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she mumbled under her breath as she continued walking towards the path.

“You’re lucky you’re the only piece of ass around here,” the blonde shouted down at her and she just shook her head in response, her long ponytail swaying. “No snaking!”

“I do what I want,” she shouted in response, not bothering to turn around.

---

The trail down to the shore was more steep than anticipated and she tread carefully, feeling the eyes of the bay boys on her. Locals only. She got it, but goddamn she was a local now, where else was she supposed to go? Fuck them.

She took claim of one of the larger rocks by placing her backpack on it. A little self-conscious, she turned away to stretch her wetsuit over her mostly exposed body. She could see the blonde girl looking at her. Waiting for her to enter the water or waiting for the next swell she’d never know. Strapping her leash to her left ankle, Y/N tucked the board under her arm and made her way to the water.

The ocean was colder than she expected but found the temperature almost comforting, a reminder of a familiar east coast chill. The repetitive nature of paddling out was meditative, something she needed to quell the tightness in her chest and nausea in her belly. Maybe she shouldn't have said those things to the guys, it was kinda their beach after all. Whatever.

“Hey,” she managed to mumble out while her head was still reeling from her confrontation. The blonde-the sister of one of the boys- responded with a skeptical nod. “I’m Y/N. Just moved here,” she offered an explanation as to her sudden appearance at Lunada.

“Oh, nice,” she nodded and her eyes seemed to soften. The small waves rocked the pair gently. “Medina Mason.”

“Medina, nice,” Y/N continued her survey of the coast, wary eyes flickering up to the cliff where the boys were.

“How’d you get past them?” Medina seemed to notice her looking to them. “They don’t let new people in.”

“Yeah, I’m still trying to figure that out,” she nervously laughed. “The old one looked like he was gonna kill me,” she turned to face Medina now genuinely trying to figure these guys out. Maybe if she played by their rules things would be easier, but she doubted that.

“Chad,” she stated without hesitation. “He’s actually pretty intense. I stay away as much as I can.” Y/N nodded in understanding, heading Medina’s warning. “My brother hangs out with him a lot-the others, too, but I don’t get why. They’re all assholes.”

“They seem like it,” she commented. “So no other girls surf here?”

“Nope,” Medina popped the ‘p.’ “I don’t know if it’s because the bay boys keep them away or if they stay away because of them.”

“They’re sexist pigs, that’s what they are.” Y/N rolled her eyes and went to scraping some wax off her board with her thumbnail. “But too bad for them. I’m here, and you’re here. So,” she shrugged.

“We gotta stick together,” Medina smirked.

“Got your back,” she glanced at Medina out of the corner of her eye where she also saw a wave that was coming in. She paddled and started to drop in when she heard a high pitched laugh from over her shoulder. Turning, she saw Medina coming up from behind, snaking her wave. “Ay!” she pulled back and Medina waved over to her, still laughing. “Yeah, forget about me having your back!” Y/N decided that maybe Medina Mason was someone to keep as a friend, even if her brother was an ass.

--

“Shit, she’s got some bite but damn did you see those tits?” Chad groaned.

“New rule. If they’re that hot, they can stay,” Alex declared over the rim of his beer. He strolled closer to the cliff, hoping to catch a glimpse. “Ha, oh shit, Jimmy. She’s making friends,” he walked back and clapped Jim on the back as he started towards the edge.

He saw Medina and the girl...did he even get her name? It was much too far to hear anything or even see any details, but he could see that the two were closer together, obviously talking.

Truth be told, he was happy Medina was talking to someone besides himself. They had been in Palos Verdes far too long for her to still struggle with friends but that’s just how she was. She didn’t care about other people’s opinions but deep down Jim knew how lonely she was, how she longed for a friend.

“Had to get a friend in the new chick, right?” Chad scoffed.

“You know how she is,” Jim tried to laugh but it was too forced. “Medina’s just...Medina,” he shrugged when he couldn’t think of another descriptor. He managed a genuine laugh when he saw the new girl steal a wave from his sister and he swore an echo of ‘Payback’s a bitch’ made its way up the cliff.

I wasn’t a good day for Jim. He talked to Medina about not feeling like what he was saying was real. That almost nothing was real anymore. So he decided to keep quiet and the boys noticed, of course, they noticed.

His fingers twitched, tapping a rhythm on the hood of the car where he returned to sit. He could feel the oxy wearing off and he was trying to decide if blunting it with another would be the best option or to take it the opposite way and snort a line of coke. He ultimately decided to take a few hits from his one hitter, giving him another few minutes to decide which route to go with his high.

Jim briefly considered letting everything wear off, he’d have to sooner or later, this bender couldn’t last forever no matter how badly he wanted it to. But not tonight.

Sandy would be begging him to stay in, to shower her with attention and comfort. To play card games, make cookies, and watch cartoons. Thinking about his inevitable evening was enough for him to pull his small stash out, deciding on another oxy.

Dry swallowing the little pill, he felt it scrape against his throat as he watched Medina climb the steps back to the top of the cliff. Her new friend was still out, enjoying the last few rays of daylight.

“Home?” she asked when she was close enough to her twin, never having to exchange many words for him to understand. They just got each other. They knew what the other was thinking about, always. They thought about water.

“Yeah, I guess,” Jim’s light eyes rolled and he hopped down from his position on the hood. “I’ll see ya.” he nodded to his friends and fell into step next to his sister, still soaking wet, her wetsuit glistening.

The pair fell into a comfortable silence as they walked down the street, making their way back to the house. Jim couldn’t help but feel like he was walking to his own funeral but admitted that the softening edges and the hazy feeling were helping. Or at least helping him care less about anything, everything.

“I heard you gave Y/N shit. Don’t be such a dick next time.” Medina elbowed him in the ribs.

“Y/N.” He rolled the name over his tongue and found it settle nicely. “It wasn’t me. Mostly Chad today.”

“You don’t own the beach, Jim. We were new here, too.” Medina was right. When they first arrived, Jim was terribly insecure, and still was although he had found his own remedy to that.

For the first few months they lived in Palos Verdes, he wouldn’t surf if they bay boys were around. He claimed they would laugh at them but Medina had said, “Stop being a pussy, Jim” and he always followed into the water, kicking the whitewash towards her. He always followed Medina, the strong one. He nodded at his own thoughts as well as her words.

“I saw you staring, you know,” Medina cautioned.

At that, Jim whipped his head to face her. “I wasn’t staring,” his words rushed.

“You were. And it’s okay. She’s like, super pretty.” Medina shrugged.

“I wasn’t staring, Medina,” Jim concluded but his twin remained unconvinced.

“Maybe if you guys weren’t such asses she’d like you,” the blonde remarked and continued walking, matching Jim’s leisurely pace. Jim’s eyes moved downcast, guilty, as the pair made their way up the driveway, Medina headed towards the garage to put her board away.

Jim was barely up the front steps when he could hear Sandy’s shouting at someone on the phone- from the credit card company, no doubt. Phil started canceling her access after she started buying everything in sight, to spite him. At first, it was fun, Jim admitted. But now that money trouble was a real threat and Sandy couldn’t see past her anger, he was scared.

He slid out of his sneakers, closed the door as silently as possible, and attempted to pad to his room undetected. However, Sandy’s “Jimmy, you’re home!” reverberated in the house and Jim felt his gut clench.

She ran to him, clad in her bathrobe, and wrapped herself around her son. “Where were you? You were gone forever, Jim.” She brushed some of the hair that had started falling into his eyes off his sweat-slicked forehead.

“I was with friends, Mom. I told you that before I left.” He attempted to stomach her closeness. No matter what she did, Jim never wanted to hurt her feelings. She was lonely and could get through this if he helped her. That’s what he told himself, at least.

Jim wasn’t stupid. At first, maybe, he didn’t see what was happening. How she manipulated him into a quasi-husband, made him ‘man of the house’. But years of slow exposure to her madness finally dawned on him and he couldn’t think of anything else- how he was a puppet for her to use for her own comfort.

Thinking about it for too long made him retch, but his distraction techniques were quite effective. A line here, a pill there-worked like a charm.

“Well, we have to keep working on your father’s signature. Go shower and I’ll make butter cookies. You’re too skinny, Jimmy. You and Medina.” She pinched his side and he nodded along with whatever she was going on about. It was always too difficult to oppose anything she said.

He wandered to the restroom, remembering to grab a towel on the way. The familiar blanket of a cloudy head started seeping into his senses.

Lock the door. Blink. Turn on the water. Breathe. Undress. He felt the coil that held him together start to unravel.

He had to think in step by step motions until he was free to relax- probably falling asleep at his mother’s side on her bed, a stack of cards in her hand and a plate of cookie crumbs at her elbow. She would run his fingers through his hair and he’d suppress the bile rising in his throat, grinding his teeth until the lull of the waves through the window pulled him under.

He looked at himself in the vanity mirror only briefly. The purple circles under his eyes were a near-permanent fixture while the blown pupils were a welcome sight. His skin was paling- less and less time spent in the water, in the sun. He let out a small giggle, unable to hold it in and shook his head for some semblance of clarity.

Climbing in the shower took more attention and focus than he’d like to admit.

Don’t slip. Blink. Wash hair. Breathe. Rinse.

When the steady stream of water hit him, he felt warm tears spill over his cheeks. His uninhibited thoughts drifted towards a certain surfer, her hair swaying as she shrugged off the guys’ comments. He saw her cutting through the water, putting on a brave face. A bravado of her own.

He was sorry but he didn’t know what for.

Gif: @codyfernsource

Tags: @stupidocupido @michael-langdon-appreciation @katiekitty261 @thecinderellaposts

Special thanks to: @thecinderellaposts for being just as obsessed with Jim as I am. Thank you and I love you and I owe everything you you for breaking my heart every chance you get. 

[allmight-amiright]

Booty Boo-Boos. Bakugou Katsuki

Request: “Can I request an imagine with some older domestic bakugo x reader where reader is on their period and their kid walks in on her and just . . . flips tf out? XD sorry if its weird, i love your work by the way!”

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: Swearing.

Notes:  This was way too much fun to write.

A groan filled the air as you rolled over on the bed.  You held your stomach, trying to ease the pain.  It’s like you could feel your uterus contracting with every cramp.  

“It is eight in the morning. Some of us are trying to sleep,” Katsuki grumbles from his spot next to you.  

No words, just another groan.  He sighs and sits up, looking at you with messy hair and bleary eyes.  His tank top twisted around his body, a victim of his wild sleep patterns.  “Alright. What’s wrong with you?”

“I think my uterus is trying to kill me,” You whine.

He rubbed his face with his hands.  “I didn’t realize it was already that time again.  I’ll make coffee.”

“Hot chocolate.”

“Fine. I’ll make hot chocolate.”  Your husband forces himself out of bed, a grunt of disapproval as his feet hit the cold floor.

“Thank you.” You smile softly.

Minutes later, Katsuki returns with two steaming mugs.  “I thought these cramps were supposed to stop after you had the brat,” he says, handing you your mug and grabbing the bottle of ibuprofen from the top of the dresser and tipping two pills into his hand.  He drops them into your hand and sits back down on the bed, letting you lean your head against his body.

“I thought they did! I haven’t had them this bad since Kei was born.” You swallow down the pills with a sip of hot chocolate.

“I miss those nine months where we didn’t have to deal with your period at all.”

“Bullshit. You were miserable,” you laugh.

“Only because you were more of a bitch than usual,” he laughed, playing with the ends of your hair.

“Oh, I’m the bitch in this relationship?”

“Yes. I’m just an asshole.”

“That’s fair.”  You sip your hot chocolate, the warmth radiating from Katsuki’s body already making you feel a little better.  

Mugs were set aside as hot chocolate was finished.  You forced yourself out of Katsuki’s embrace and away from the blankets that were keeping you so warm and comfortable. 

“Where are you going?” Katsuki asks.

“I have to pee.”

“That’s over-sharing.”

“We’re married. Over-sharing doesn’t exist anymore.”

You walked down the hall on your way to the bathroom, peeking your head into your son’s room, his head still resting on his pillow, a stuffed dinosaur tucked securely under his arm.  You smiled softly at your son, now three years old.  He was almost an exact replica of Katsuki.  Mitsuki was nearly at a loss of words the last time she saw him.  She had ruffled his messy blonde hair and laughed.  “You look like your punk of a dad!  That sucks, kid.”

“Mom...”

“What? Y/N’s better looking than you ever were.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I look like you, you old bat!”

“Don’t talk to me that way, Katuski!” Mitsuki had her hand raised, ready to karate chop her son for his disrespect, but she dropped it to her side and smiled at her grandson, scooping him up into her arms.  “You’re going to grow up and be so handsome.  You have your mommy’s eyes and her smile.  At least you’re not at a total loss.”

You start to leave the doorway, but a small “Mommy” stops you in your tracks.  You enter Kei’s room, sitting down on the side of his bed.  You rush the hair away from his face and smile at him. “Good morning, sweetheart.  Did you sleep well?”

Kei nods, rubbing his eyes.  “I’m hungy...”

“You’re hungy? Okay, we’ll make breakfast in a few minutes.  Do you want pancakes?”

“Good pancakes!” 

You laughed.  “Got it. Good pancakes.” Good pancakes.  That was code for chocolate chip pancakes, but that was still a mouthful for him, so they were known in Bakugou household as simply ‘good pancakes.’

You got up, but not before planting a kiss on the top of his head.  You left his room and continued down the hall to the bathroom.  You shut the door behind you and grabbed a tampon from the box under the sink.  You shook your head as you looked at damage on your underwear. Despite wearing a pad to bed, you still managed to stain yet another pair of underwear.  A quick text to Katsuki asking him to bring you a new pair of underwear and the prob-

The door swings open and there’s Kei.  He gasps, looking at the blood.  He quickly runs down the hall, shouting for Katsuki.  

“What the hell are you on about?!” You hear Katsuki shout. There’s pounding footsteps coming down the hall that added to the cries of “Mommy’s bleeding! Mommy’s dying!”

The next thing you know, two blonde headed boys are standing in the door of bathroom, one with tears streaking down their face and the other red with embarrassment. Katuski just throws a pair of underwear at you and shuts the door.  You can hear him, Dad Voice engaged, trying to soothe your wailing son.  

You clean yourself up and get everything taken care of.  You wash your hands and open the bathroom door.  Katsuki has Kei in his arms, trying to stop the toddler’s crying.  “Dude, look.  Mommy’s fine. See? She’s okay,” Katsuki says causing Kei to lift his head from his father’s chest.  He starts to hiccup as the sobs begin to cease as he sees him Mommy in one piece, no longer bleeding and no longer dying.  

You take Kei from Katsuki as he reaches for you.  You smooth his hair and situate him on your hip.  “Mommy’s fine, sweetheart.  Nothing’s wrong with me, okay?”

“B-but you were bleeding... Did you get a boo-boo on your bottom? Is that why?” He asks in a small voice.

“Yes, sweetheart.  That’s exactly what happened.  Mommy fell and got a boo-boo, but she’s okay now.  Everything is fine.  Now, how about those good pancakes?”

------------------------------------

“So, you got a boo-boo on your ass, huh?” Katsuki laughs as he helps you clean the dishes after breakfast as Kei sits in the living room playing with his dinosaurs.

“Oh, shut up, you piece of trash,” you retort, trying not to laugh yourself.

“What?! It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve had a boo-boo on your butt,” he snickers, swatting at your butt with a dish towel, but missing.

 Your place your hands on your hips and give him a look of mock disapproval.  “Bakugou Katsuki, am I gonna have to call your mother and tell her that you’re picking on me again?”

“I’m offended that you would threaten me with such a thing,” he says, walking past you to put the now clean plates back in the cabinet.  He begins to move back to his spot, but not before he winds up and smacks your butt with the dish towel. 

“Hey!”

“Now, you’re really gonna have a boo-boo on your ass.” He sticks his tongue out in a teasing manner, before running out of the kitchen before you have the chance to retaliate.

“You little shit.”

[buckymcbuttfacebarnes]

Devotion

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3300

request: this has been done a few times but i really want ur take on it and a bitch loves angst and drama so uh. maybe reader/bucky are in a relationship but like its a secret and its in the early stage but Then bucky gets a little too close for comfort w somebody else and yeah. i feel corny as fuck for saying alla that but,,please (requested by anon)

summary: bucky barnes and y/n struggle to define the parameters of their relationship, especially when y/n sees him with another girl.

warnings: angst fluff and vague ass smut like bitch i aint never written smut b4 so LMFAO

a/n: i tried to make this as not-cheesy as possible, but i know that its still gonna be corny as fuck bc i love corny bucky shit! love u anon,, i hope you enjoy pls lemme know what u think!<3

my fics

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Bucky glances at his watch before tugging you into the small room with him. You want to resist, but you can’t. You are putty in his hands. Each brush of his lips against your skin sets your nerves alight, warming you completely. His kisses are wet and feverish. Almost desperate. When his lips touch your neck your eyelids flutter shut, his metal fingertips are cool to the touch, they make you shiver.

“Bucky—” the half-hearted warning escapes your lips quietly.

“Y/N,” he murmurs in playful return, mimicking your tone. You can feel his smile growing.

“We have to get to the party…” your voice trails off when his hands come to hold your sides and his lips move to the sensitive skin beneath your ear. You like the feel of his beard scratching at your skin, the way his breath cools the places where his lips have been. “Buck, c’mon,” you start again, but his hand slides down to hook beneath your thigh and you instinctively wrap your leg around his hips. His cologne is intoxicating, but you breathe it in anyway, longing for it to fill your lungs. “We have to stop…” you say breathlessly, “They’re gonna notice if both of us are missing.”

But he doesn’t stop and you don’t want him to.

Your fingers fumble clumsily with the buttons of his shirt, crisp and white, you’d ironed it yourself.

He laughs and you feel it in your chest, as if it had been your own chuckle, your amusement, not his. It rings in your ears in a way that makes you wish you could hear it again and again. You grin broadly at him, and he grins back. All teeth, his blue eyes glint with each sinful thought that crosses his mind. He is so beautiful.

“The things I wanna do to you, doll,” he muses.

You hastily push the fabric away from his shoulders, hands on his bare skin. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d already unzipped the side of your dress, but then he lets go of your thigh to draw the straps from your shoulders and let the jewel toned gown fall to the floor in a pool of rich fabric.

“I could have just pulled the dress up,” your words are sound slurred together, they interrupt the clash of lips, teeth, and tongue.

Bucky shakes his head and he’s breathless, pulling both of your legs around his waist. The wall’s surface is cool against your bare back.  “I want to feel you.”

And he does.

His hands touch every inch of your body, holding you close as you pant out his name. Your fingers get entangled in the waves of chestnut brown (ruining the neat bun that had been knotted at the nape of his neck). Bucky tucks his face into the crook of your neck, his grunts send chills up and down the length your spine. His teeth graze your collarbone when you tug at his hair, his hands clutch at the backs of your thighs.

“Fuck,” Bucky hisses quietly.

Your fingertips dig into his shoulders, you tilt your head back and it bumps against the wall. You don’t care enough to think about, too engrossed by the rush of excitement pooling inside of you. But then Bucky’s hand grabs your chin, his thumb drags down across your lips and he meets your longing gaze. You wind your arms around his neck, little space between your faces. You inhale and exhale the same air, parted lips almost close enough to touch. He says your name, quietly, he breathes it. Your breath nearly catches in your throat. There’s a crease between his brows and his lower lip is caught between his teeth. His hands hold you tightly, as if he’s afraid you might slip from his grasp at any moment.

His movements grow quicker and less precise. “Y/N,” he pants when your noses touch, his eyes fluttering shut. His eyelashes are dark against his flushed cheeks. You will yourself to keep yours open, but you can’t. Bucky moans and the tightly wound coil that had formed in the pit of your stomach finally snaps. The snap of his hips grows more sloppy with each moment, he finds his release in time with yours.

The sound of your name on his lips is a whisper that’s barely there, just a wispy exhale of air, but he says it all the same. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…Again and again and again. It sends chills down your spine, you hold him closer.

He kisses you on your lips, wet and painfully slow. His hips adopt a languid pace, you struggle to catch your breath, so does he. He gleams with a thin sheen of sweat. He’s the most handsome creature you’d ever laid your eyes on.

“Bucky.”

He kisses your neck, right back at where he started.

You buttoned up his shirt and he zipped up your dress. You combed your fingers through his hair and pulled it into a low knot. A warm, comfortable silence blooms. He touches your cheek with gentle fingertips as you wiped the traces of your lipstick from his skin.

“What?” you asked, with a raised brow. There was something anticipatory in his lingering gaze. “I’m irresistible, huh doll?”

When you rolled your eyes he laughed. Childish, but good-natured as always, yet there was still something his was withholding.

“What?” you ask again, playfully impatient.

You see his jaw clench and he exhales loudly through his nose, his expression growing thoughtful, but only for a split second.

“Nothing,” he says too quickly. He glances down at his watch and grins crookedly, “Just think, doll, if I can do that to you in under ten minutes, think about what we could do with thirty...or an hour...or a whole night.”

Bucky speaks with a manner that seems nonchalant, but part of you knows that he’s rather serious. You know the implications of such a charged suggestion: How serious is this? We both know we aren’t ‘just friends’, why keep it a secret?

But you weren’t ready to answer the unspoken questions, so you just smile and smooth out the wrinkles in his white shirt, hoping he hadn’t caught a whiff of your apprehension.

Bucky leaves the comfort of the cramped janitor’s closet (the spot for all of your most recent trysts) first. He had told you it was better that your arrival times were staggered, rather than arriving together. He glances down at his watch, he only had about ten minutes before she arrived.

Before turning down the hall towards the ballroom he turns his head to look at you, but you’ve already shut the door. He walks to the ballroom alone, flushed in the face. While he stands outside and waits he thinks about the way you clutched onto him and that moment when he’d peered into your eyes. Those innocent, heavy lidded eyes, caught in the midst of ecstasy. The taste of you was stuck on his mouth like beer on the lips of an alcoholic.

You leave the closet almost immediately after Bucky because the air still is charged with an odd, indescribable tension and you can still smell his cologne in the cramped space. You slip away and spend time in a the mirror, adjusting your hair and fixing your makeup. When you looked at yourself in the mirror you smiled, though you weren’t exactly sure why. You leaned forward and looked closely at your neck and collarbones. No marks, you had sternly told him. And though he often liked to annoy you by placing a hickey at the base of your neck or at the spot near your jaw, beneath the ear, he hadn’t tonight. Your own fingertips ghosted across your neck. It felt hot still, as if his lips had only been there seconds ago.

You wait an even thirty minutes before you head to the party.

“Fashionably late as always, huh?”

It’s Steve approaches you with a good-natured smile and two champagne flutes in hand.

“That’s the only reason to ever be late to anything,” you lie, accepting on of the glasses with an appreciative smile.

He laughs. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, you look great. You all alone tonight?”

You nod. “Why? Need a wingman?”

This makes him laugh.

When you see Bucky again it’s about an hour into the party. You spent time sipping at champagne and making small talk with a few friends, making rounds with Steve (who was also dateless), but all the while you had been scanning the large room for him. You didn’t know what for, you were both rather hesitant to seem too chummy in a public setting like this, but there was something about him tonight that had made you want more. You wanted more of him, even if that meant faking a strictly friendly friendship. You suspected he wanted more of you too. It went beyond his vague suggestion of spending more time together. You had heard it in his call of your name, seen it in the stain of your lipstick on his cheek, felt it with the touch of his thumb to your swollen lips.

You feel him before you see him. He bumps into you by pure coincidence and his hand shoots out to hold your elbow, steadying you.

“Oh, Y/N...sorry about that.” When he smiles it seems odd and half-hearted, but you ignore it. Instead you find yourself focusing on the sudden lump in your throat and your urge to kiss him again and again.

“I was actually looking for you, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh yeah, doll? What’s that?” He was distracted, eyes flitting from you to someplace above your head, someplace behind you. Still, it didn’t seem to register.

“Earlier you said something and I just think that—”

You didn’t know her, a pretty girl with eyes like smokey quartz. Her lipstick was a shade of pink and made her face look washed out. Yours was a shade of red that complimented the glow of your skin tone. You don’t feel embarrassed when her eyes meet yours or when she brushes past you, stopping you mid-sentence, to loop her arm through Bucky’s as if they’re some sort of buy-one-get-one pairing. She kisses his cheek. Her lipstick doesn’t stain him like yours did. You don’t smile or frown, something in you deflates.

“Oh, are you on a date?” you ask Bucky, slowly shifting your gaze from her to him. Your disappointment is apparent in your tone, though you tried desperately to hide it.

He doesn’t sputter for words or fumble for an excuse. He never does. “Yes.”

You nod because you don’t have a right to be angry. You walk away because there’s nothing left for you to say.

Behind you, you think you hear the girl asking, “What was that about?”

That night he is at your door, you know it’s him because of the (unnecessarily) distinctive knock. Two solid raps, brief pause, two, pause, two, then silence. A heartbeat at your door.

“C’mon, Y/N.”

When you open the door he’s leaning against the doorframe, still dressed in his white shirt and dress pants. He looks surprised when the door swings open, then relieved. You wished you didn’t feel anything when you looked at him.

“What’s up, Buck?” you ask when he doesn’t say anything.

“Don’t act like this.”

“Like what?”

He sighs, and a quiet settles. Most everything he says is so calculated, picked with care, searching for the most concise way to say what needs to be said. He never struggled to speak, but always took his time in doing so. He never seemed lost, he was always in control. He’d never been one for drawn out conversations, especially when it came to the prospects of your relationship with one another. You were friends first and foremost, you both knew that. Keeping the relationship a secret was the logical thing to do. Friends would treat you the same instead of seeing you as a pair, it would allow the two of you to privately define whatever it was you had. Up until recently the secrecy and the games seemed to work well. It had all been fairly straightforward: he feared commitment, you swore up and down you didn’t want anything too serious with him. You didn’t know you had been lying until tonight.

“Like you aren’t bothered,” he finally says.

The air between you grows taut. You lift and release your brows.

“I don’t have a right to be bothered.”

Respecting the agreement.

“Right…” he says, lips curling into a coy smile, “but you are.”

Silence.

“You were mad at the party, you’re mad now.”

“I’m not mad, Bucky. It’s just—”

“Just what?” He’s leaning forward, arm still on the door frame. He is poison. He thinks this is a game.

“Tonight,” you begin, hating the way he makes you feel, “you—It felt different.” There is a lump in your throat. “It was different and then...and I wanted to tell you, but then I show up and look for you the whole night and turns out, you’re with some girl.” Your bring your eyes up to his and a heat flares in your chest,  realization creeping up on you like a cruel shadow. “Is that why you kept looking at your fucking watch?”

You see his jaw tense. He swallows hard. Suddenly he’s serious...and for some reason that makes you angrier.

“Fuck, it makes so much more sense now,” you’re speaking more to yourself than to him at this point. “God, Bucky,” your cheeks puff with the air you exhale through your mouth. “I’m so stupid.”

“You aren’t stupid.”

“Yes, I am, because I actually thought I felt something with you tonight!”

He sends you a warning look: Keep it down. You hadn’t even realized how loud you’d gotten, voice echoing in the hallway. When he pushes past you through your door you don’t stop him, you keep talking.

“Something really—something real! And I was going to tell you that.” You send your gaze to the ceiling in exasperation. “I was going to tell you, can you believe that?”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because of that fucking girl, Buck.” You pace the floor, you don’t want to look at him, but you can feel his eyes on you. “You knew what the fuck you were doing, you planned this.”

He tries to interject, but there’s no stopping you.

“No, no, you did. I know you did. That fucking watch,” you point to the device on his wrist, “you had this night all scheduled out, huh? Sleep with Y/N, she’s a quick fuck, then get to my real date at the party. That’s fucked up.”

With eyes narrowed: “I didn’t plan things to turn out this way.”

“So she showed up on her own then?”

He shakes his head, this is the first time you ever see him with his lips parted, clumsily searching for the right words to string together. That’s not what I meant.

“Right,” you mockingly quip, looking him in his eye. “You don’t get to do this to me.”

“I’m giving you exactly what you wanted!” The volume of his voice catches you off guard, his face goes hard. “This is what you asked for, you wanted something secret, something quiet, and I’ve given that to you. You wanted this, not me,” he is suddenly seething, hands spread wide and out at his sides. He looks to you with darkened eyes, they seem to hold the vast tumult of the sea. His gaze is frigid. Icy waters.

“Well then...what do you want?” You question venomously, interrupting the weighty silence.

He could have crossed the room to stand close to you, but he keeps his distance. He watches you pace. He watches you watch him.

“I want to be with you.”

“That’s bullshit.”

He shakes his head, face screwed up in disbelief. “You’re the one that didn’t want anything serious!”

“You’re the one that ‘can’t handle commitment’!” You throw finger quotes in his face, he fights the urge to take you by the throat and kiss you until you can’t breathe.

“I have tried to tell you that I want more, but you just fucking brush it off or pretend like you didn’t hear me, when I know that you do. Like tonight. Tonight I didn’t even mean to hint at it, but I did, and what did you do? You fucking ignored it like you do with everything else!”

“I can’t take you seriously, you treat everything like some stupid joke!”

Bucky stares at you open-mouthed and in disbelief, but you know he won’t deny you because you both know that you’re right.

“I didn’t plan for this to happen,” he reiterates.

“The watch—”

“Jesus Christ, the watch, the watch, the fucking watch, who gives a fuck about the watch, Y/N?” As he speaks he’s taking the watch off. He holds it by the black leather strap and looks at it as if it disgusts him. “Look, I brought the girl, but it was only because Steve introduced me to her a few days ago. People keep asking about you and me, and it’s so fucking annoying, and I know how badly you wanted to keep this—” he points between the two of you with his forefinger, he’s exasperated, “—a secret! So I invited her, but I told her to come an hour after the party actually starts because I knew I was going to be with you. I wanted to be with you. It just looked good if I walked into the party with her. That’s it. That’s all.”

Bucky stands in front of you with a face that’s open and expected. Lips slightly parted, eyes wide and watchful. The silence swallows you whole.

He had helped you pick your dress before the party (Wow, pretty lady, hot date tonight?). You ironed his shirt, hung it up and kept it crisp. You left late, too caught up in one another to recall the time.  He insisted on walking together, but promised to keep a good amount of space between you. If anyone saw it would look strictly platonic. Then he grabbed you by your wrist and tugged you into that goddamn closet despite your half-hearted protests.

We don’t have a lot of time, Buck. We’re already late.

I don’t need much, doll.

“I didn’t think that you’d decide tonight that you wanted something serious,” he admits quietly. When he sighs his shoulders move up towards his ears, then rela again. Half of his mouth quirks upwards crookedly. “Hell, if I knew that, I never would have brought the girl. We wouldn’t have even gone to that stupid party, we would’ve been too busy...doing other things.”

Suddenly you are aware of the heart beating your chest and the warmth of the room. A heat creeps up your entire body, your fingertips seem to buzz. You cross the room, meeting him where he stands.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

He whispers your name quietly, a repetitive sound on his lips. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.

You want to hear it again and again and again.

Two hands, one warm, the other cool, rest on either side of your face and you smile. “I want you.” Secret or no secret. “I just want you.”

Bucky kisses you until you feel lightheaded. He kisses you until you’re dizzy and your legs feel wobbly and you can’t tell where you begin and he ends. He touches you with hands spread wide, he wants to feel every part of you. He burns your skin with his hot kisses, a trail of marks left to show where he’s been. You breathe him in until he’s invaded your system, you breathe him in until your lungs are filled to the brim.

[sirkkasnow]

01 Let Trouble Come To You

Ao3 link

06/30/13 Sunday

Stan registered three things as he stepped out into the heavy summer sunshine:

First, there was an old square-sided station wagon smashed nose first into the side of the Shack.

Second, Ford had just wrenched open the driver’s door.

Third, the occupant of the wagon, a well-dressed woman, looked up – disoriented but conscious – eyes flicking to his twin, then to him.

Son of a bitch, thought Stan, pushing himself into a jog across the lawn. He hadn’t made it halfway before the woman in the wagon clapped both hands over her startled mouth and burst into tears. Ford winced, backing off with the penlight he’d been waving in her face. Stan put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and drew him back another step, leaning in.

“Hey. Hey, ma’am, you okay in there?”

He got a shaky nod that did nothing to interrupt a series of faint jagged sobs, the kind of tears you got when you were trying very hard not to cry. The driver curled in on herself, knees tucked up, a ball of misery he had no idea how to unravel.

Mabel popped out of the nearest door and skidded to a halt in open-mouthed surprise. Stan pointed her way. “Mabel! Pumpkin, go get a box of tissues and a cold washcloth, all right? Ford, what the hell?”

“I have no idea! I heard it just when you did. I was in the lab – “

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“ – testing the new safety features I just installed on the magnet gun.” Ford looked over his shoulder in dawning horror. “Which must have pulled this victim of circumstance right into the house.” Mabel was already back, dashing to the driver’s side with tissues and washcloth in hand. Her bright voice rang out in greeting and got a muffled response.

“Sweet Moses, Ford, you’ve done it this time.” Stan pulled himself upright with a sigh, doing the mental math and eyeing the damage to the Shack’s shingling. The wagon had definitely gotten the worst of it, he decided with a twinge of relief. He noted a few details – Colorado plates, occupied bike rack, the clutter of an extended road trip jammed into the rear compartment. “Ma’am?”

The woman in the wagon had uncurled a bit, finally, pressing the washcloth to her face. She lowered it to reveal fine, sharp features, grey eyes pink at the edges. “Clary,” she said, thick-voiced, then cleared her throat. “Clary Merrick.”

Mabel was patting Clary’s knee. “She says she’s okay! Clary, these are my grunkles, you’ve met Ford and that’s Stan. Welcome to the Mystery Shack! I’m really sorry about all of this!” Her eyes tracked over to Ford, who was looking guiltier by the second.

“It’s all good, Mabel. Just an accident, right? We’ll get a tow truck out here for this poor unfortunate – “

“I’ll take care of it,” said Ford.

Stan bit back a laugh. “You, fix this mess?”

“I’ve figured out a few alien vehicles in my time – “

“You kiddin’ me?”

Stan turned away from the car, tugging Ford along with him. “You do see what kinda shape this thing is in, right? This was somewhere between vintage and decrepit before it got friendly with the Shack. I can probably get it runnin’ again, but unless you have an engine-repair gun hiding in that lab of yours, that’s gonna take time.”

“Stanley. This is my fault.” The corners of Ford’s eyes crinkled with distress and Stan swore internally.

“Look. Fine. We can let her stay here for the night and I’ll take a look in the mornin’, but you’re gonna modify that magnet gun to iron out body panels or we won’t get too far.” Behind them, a heavy click marked the release of the seat belt.

“A tow truck would be fine. I’d really hate to impose.” Clary stepped unsteadily out of the station wagon, pushing out behind her with a careless hand to close the door with a firm thunk.

The four of them watched as the S from the Shack sign wobbled, skittered with increasing speed down the roof and thudded with a deep crunch square into the center of the crumpled hood. A last hiss of steam welled, faded and died.

Clary laid a hand over her brow, drew a long, steadying breath and turned away. “I’d be happy to take you up on a spare room for the night. Thank you so much.”

Their guest – Stan had to keep reminding himself, guest and not expensive, potentially litigious annoyance – pulled a small overnight bag out of the back seat and trailed after the family to the house, pausing to swap phone contacts with Mabel on the way. Waddles trotted by to check out Clary’s ankles, prompting exclamations and explanations on the way inside. He couldn’t blame the lady. Few people expected to be accosted by a pet pig.

Clary spent five minutes in the washroom and emerged looking…polished. Eyes clear, tear blotching gone, hair tucked smoothly away into its twist. The jaunty little silk neckerchief wrapped snugly twice and knotted at her neck had been set straight. Her glance drifted across Stan’s without really sticking and she offered a careful smile, tagging along with Mabel for what sounded like a house tour.

Stan recruited Dipper as an assistant. Clearing the spare room went fairly quickly, boxes of old merchandise stacked off to one side. He fished out a marker and tagged a few for later discount – some of this stuff had to be six years out of date by now, not quite old enough for a retro sale.

“ – and here is your room! Which is now almost completely clear of terrifying cursed artifacts and where you are guaranteed to have a great night’s sleep!” Mabel burst through the door and tossed a heap of pillows on the almost-inflated air mattress, ignoring Dipper’s hey! of protest as he labored away at the foot pump.

Clary stuck her head in, then leaned through the doorframe just enough to drop off a pile of blankets, linens and a large stuffed blue whale. “The whale’s on loan,” she said, when Stan shot her a flat look of disbelief.

“We’ll make the bed,” Mabel sang. “You two go get acquainted!” She nudged Dipper aside and took over foot-pump duties with enthusiasm.

“Uh – yeah, I guess we’ll see you guys in a couple minutes?” Dipper scooped up the sheets. “We’ve got this.”

Stan found himself ejected into the hallway. Clary blinked up at him, expression softened by maybe a quarter smile. “Mabel is a force of nature.”

“You said it. C’mon, sounds like you already got a pretty good look at the joint.” Stan tipped a thumb over at the connecting door. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever been to the Mystery Shack before?”

“I’ve never been to Oregon before, but I know the name, at least. Saw a bumper sticker – “

“Ha!” Clary rocked back on her heels in surprise. “Hear that, Ford?” Stan yelled in the general direction of the kitchen. “Those bumper stickers were a good investment! And Sixer says they’re too ‘plain’ and ‘graphically simplistic’ and ‘don’t even have an address on them Stanley how is anyone supposed to find the place’ to attract customers.”

“Well, they are graphically simplistic!” Ford leaned over to call back through the kitchen doorway. “I don’t know how she found the place, let alone thought ‘What is the Mystery Shack’ was compelling.”

“No, no, I liked it. Very minimalist. What’s the point of advertising the Mystery Shack if there isn’t a little mystery to solve on the way? Besides,” her voice dropped into a barely-audible rumble, “I’d say it was the magnet gun that was really compelling.”

She’d said that in perfect deadpan, and Stan’s grin went wide. “I like you, Clary. How about I give you a tour sometime tomorrow, regular price.”

That got him a doubtful sidelong frown, and Stan laughed. “We’ll eat in like half an hour. Feel free to unpack or get interrogated by Mabel or whatever. Congratulations, you’re the most interestin’ thing to have happened here all summer.”

Twenty minutes later Ford had managed to pad out dinner with some odds and ends from the freezer. They swiped a kitchen chair to wedge in at the dining table. Clary now sported a Mabel scarf pinned across her chest, anchoring a dishtowel-wrapped bundle of what had to be frozen peas at her left shoulder. Stan reckoned she was anticipating a bruise from the seat belt. Smart. Mabel, bless her, led in with loud enthusiasm about the pleasures of summer in Gravity Falls, and a round of questions followed as he loaded up his plate.

“I’m a lawyer,” Clary said into a still moment. “I specialize in federal tax work.”

He hadn’t been tuned in to the conversation, but that particular combination of phrases was enough to both douse Stan’s nerves in ice water and trigger a regrettable reflex. He set an elbow on the table, leaned in, and said: “What’s the difference between a lady lawyer and a pitbull?”

Clary’s focus snapped to him. Stan raised an eyebrow.

The professional mask didn’t slip, but there was a spark of hot defiance at the back of her eyes. “Lipstick. Why did New Jersey get all the toxic waste and California get all the lawyers?”

Stan almost laughed – apparently there was something human in there after all. “Jersey got to pick first. What’s the difference between a dead skunk in the road and a dead lawyer in the road?”

“Skid marks in front of the skunk. What’s the difference between a lawyer and a boxing referee?” Clary relaxed with an arm draped along the back of her chair, looking at him with her chin cocked the slightest bit in challenge. Mabel had both hands over her mouth, stifling a giggle; Ford and Dipper both looked like they wanted to dive for cover.

“A boxin’ referee doesn’t get paid more for a longer fight.” He’d pinned down the accent now – she sounded like Ford, faint traces of a mid-Atlantic cadence all but buffed off by too much damn education. Not Southern enough for Virginia, so – “You’re a long way from home, Maryland.”

“Could say the same for you, Jersey,” she fired back, lips quirked, aware that she’d had the easier lift. “Long Branch?”

Shit, she had him within thirty miles. Stan rolled with it, slung her a finger-gun and a wink. “Close. Baltimore?”

Clary rolled her eyes in return. “There’s not much else in Maryland, but close enough, hon.”

That took some of the starch out, and the discussion relaxed a little. Clary chatted museums with Mabel and Dipper, displaying all the trademark enthusiasm of a hopeless nerd, which was probably going to make dinner even more exhausting than usual for the next few days.

Stan lobbed an occasional joke at Clary for the rest of the meal. She swatted them back with the easy contempt of a bored tennis pro. He was going to have to do some research, because she definitely knew more lousy lawyer cracks than he did.

They left the dishes for later. Ford perched atop the skull side table, Mabel made herself at home on one arm of Stan’s recliner, and Dipper helped pile up a mountain of pillows for himself and Clary. “Are you all caught up on Ducktective?” he asked as Stan got the TV going and started skimming through channels.

“Never seen it, I’m afraid.”

“You’ve never seen it?! Oh my gosh, there is so much going on this week! Listen up, I’ll explain the basics!” Dipper plopped onto a pillow next to Clary and managed to keep it more or less to a whisper, going squeaky as he got to the really good bits.

The whole room went tense and silent for that week’s reveal, then exploded in groans as Mabel waved a dismissive hand at the screen. “Oh, come on! DipDop called that twist like a month ago.”

Dipper puffed out his bony chest. “Well, Mabel, once you’ve seen real weird, mere fiction gets a lot easier to predict.”

“Uh huh. Those real dishes aren’t gonna do themselves.” Stan headed Dipper off at the pass with a brief glare of warning and hauled himself upright. “Clary, you mind helpin’ me round all that up?”

Ford gently shooed the kids up to bed as Stan and Clary cleared the table and headed for the kitchen. She tossed the bag of peas back into the freezer and headed over to join Stan at the sink, taking up a dishtowel, accepting clean glasses and swiping them dry as he passed them over. “That was an adventure.”

“There’s a ton to catch up on, there. Last season was pretty good. You gotta laptop or somethin’?”

“Mmhm. Not sure how much time I’ll have to spare for binge watching, though. What’s your read on the car?”

“Need to have a look under the hood for that. At least a couple days, and honestly, maybe a little more.” Stan watched her lips compress from the corner of one eye. “That thing’s a classic, if you wanna put it charitably.”

“You’re being charitable. I did have – “ Clary smiled briefly up at Ford as he joined them to start on put-away duty. “I did have some work done on it before I left just to make sure it wouldn’t break down. The plan was for a pretty long trip. Not that it matters much at this point.”

“What’s a girl from Maryland doing out in Oregon with a Colorado license plate?”

“I inherited the car. I’m driving to Seattle to scatter my mother’s ashes in the Pacific.”

And damn, what a way to kill a line of inquiry. She handed a dry plate off to Ford, who put it in the appropriate cupboard, looking a little lost. For a good thirty seconds it was nothing but running water and the clink of china.

“So – does the timin’ matter? We could get you on a bus, hook you up with a rental?” Stan was running the mental math again, and yeah, like it or not this one was going to be on him and his brother. Well, dammit.

“She’s dead, Stan, no one’s in a hurry. Least of all me.” A tiny, bitter twist pulled at one corner of her mouth, but she looked up to Ford and her tone was sincere. “Listen. This was an accident, I get it. A very weird accident. I was already planning to make a sort of travel holiday of this, and I’ve got no issue staying in Gravity Falls for a little while – I’ve got the bike and plenty to read. Can you recommend a hotel? A B&B maybe?”

Yes! thought Stan, then No! as Ford opened his mouth and started playing gracious host, of all things. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Clary. I know it’s crowded, but we already have a room set aside for you, and at the very least I can promise you won’t be bored. You’d be right at the center of activity here! I can suggest some hikes, we have lots of games, there’s the lake and the Shack itself of course. You should be able to reach almost anything with that bicycle.”

Stan did his level best to make please, no, come on already faces at Ford over Clary’s head, which was difficult because she was so damned tall. The twins only had about three inches on her. Ford was either missing the signals or being deliberately oblivious. Stan mentally wagered on the latter.

“I’m tempted,” Clary said carefully.

“Please, just sleep on it. I know it’s been a difficult day, and again, I’m so sorry to have put you in this predicament.” Ford lightly plucked the last glass from her fingers and reached up to set it into its place. “We’ll check on both the car and your shoulder.”

For a moment Clary’s lashes dipped down and her fingers twisted into the dishtowel. “All right. You’re very generous, Ford, Stan, thank you. We can go over it in the morning. I’m afraid you’re right, it’s been one hell of a day and I should get some rest. Good night, gentlemen.”

“Good night, Clary.”

“G’night.” Stan dropped a couple of ice cubes into a glass and lifted it in dismissive salute as she headed out towards the repurposed storage room, then gave Ford his very best ‘What the hell, Sixer’ look. What he got back was wide-eyed mock innocence and a shrug.

“Seriously?” Stan said, letting his brow smack lightly into the freezer door.

“I owe her,” Ford said with as much dignity as he could muster. “And it seems to me that she could use the company.”

Stan tapped his head against the freezer twice more before straightening with a groan.

“You were getting bored anyway.” Ford spared Stan a knowing glance.

“I have not been that bored.”

“You were bored enough to take another shot at Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons last week.”

“Yeah, that ended in flames. Let’s hope this doesn’t.”

“She’s interesting, that’s for certain! Perhaps we can make a few minor upgrades to the engine before we send her out again….”

“Ford. Do not.”

It was too late, of course, it had been too late well before Ford had voiced the idea, and he was already jotting notes in his spare pad as Stan watched him wander down the hallway. He’d be up until two in the morning, as usual.

Stan topped off his glass with water and shuffled off towards his own room. Bored. Pfft.

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Clary is talking to the others at the table, and you think you catch something about her doing federal tax law stuff. Yikes.

Crack a lousy lady driver joke.

Crack a lousy cryptid joke.

Crack a lousy lawyer joke.

[glennjaminhow]

Mac and Dennis + calming each other down

July

Mac’s cheeks are strawberry red, and he’s sweating a shit ton when heenters the apartment. As much as it pains Dennis to thinks so, it’s a good lookon him. But Mac’s brown eyes slant down while he kicks off his Chucks, stompingover to the couch barefoot because, for some reason, the dude’s not wearingsocks with his shoes, even though it’s nearly 100 degrees outside. Gross.That’s fucking revolting. It’s disgusting. It’s… Whatever. Mac plops downpractically on top of Dennis’ feet; Dennis takes the liberty of settling them on Mac’s lap.

Dennis mutes the stupid murder mystery he solved within the first twominutes and watches Mac brood. He’s stewing in his own anger. It’s kinda hot.But never mind that. That’s not important right now. What is important isgetting to the bottom of why Mac’s upset and correcting the problem. Dennis isexcellent, a professional even, at fixing Mac’s problems. He’s God, after all.

“What’s up?” Dennis asks from where he’s sprawled out on thecouch, beer in one hand and the remote in the other. It’s a ridiculously hotsummer day, and he’s ignored his daily responsibilities for a little R ‘n’ R.He woke up this morning with a fierce, stabbing ache behind his left eye anddecided that was it. He usually tries to push through it, but it’s hot, and hedoesn’t want to be sweaty at all today, so he stays home, where his headachehas morphed into a dull throb.

He almost wishes he made Mac stay home with him too, but he’s got theAC cranked too low and is gorging himself on crime TV, two things Mac hates.

Mac doesn’t say anything. His face goes from red to flushed. He wringshis fingers together. He bounces his knee up and down up and down up and down,and Dennis almost loses his Goddamn mind because the repetitive motion hurtshis ears, and he can feel the pulsing in his bones. But Mac looks somehowpissed and terrified all at once, and Dennis doesn’t like that.

“Dude,” he tries again. “You okay?”

Mac shakes his head. He doesn’t offer an actual verbal response. Dennisis so not in the mood to deal with pulling teeth for an answer today. He sitsup, letting the plaid quilt fall to the floor. He nearly blushes when Macglances at his boxer and oversized t-shirt clad form only to quickly look awaylike he didn’t just look Dennis up and down. Uh huh. Two can play it that game.

Dennis nestles himself beside Mac. He knows Mac likes to keep himclose. That’s the only rational explanation he has for why Mac is so fuckingclingy and bossy toward him all the time. Dennis sorta likes the closeness too,but never tell Mac that because he’ll just feel empowered, and that’spractically Dennis’ only recognizable emotion. He places his head on Mac’sshoulder and traces his index finger over Mac’s hardened muscles.

“You look so great today, baby boy,” he says softly, gently,like he’s talking to a newborn kitten.

Mac shrugs. Nothing else.

“What’s wrong, Mac?”

It’s the question that sets off the unsteady, ragged breathing. Macclutches at Dennis’ - it’s actually Mac’s - shirt like it’s his only lifelineand hides his face in Dennis’ neck. His nose is snotty and hot and fuckingnasty, but it only takes a few seconds for the hiccups, followed by tears, toroll in like a tidal wave. Dennis wraps an arm around Mac’s quiveringshoulders.

Mac’s cries swiftly morph into sobs. Dennis rearranges them to wherethey’re both lying down, Mac lying on Dennis’ chest. Mac is a lot heavier thanthem, so it isn’t exactly what he would call comfortable, but the weight issoothing in its own way. Dennis isn’t having a bad day, not really at least,but this is calming him down regardless. He hopes it does the same for Mac,whose tears soak into his shirt until his chest and stomach are thoroughlydrenched.

“Breathe, baby boy,” Dennis whispers. “Just breathe.It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

God’s got you.

“You’re doing so well. Keep breathing,” he instructs.“Try to relax your muscles, babe.” Mac does so without question, justas he should. His shoulders release tension immediately.

Mac falls asleep just like that, snotty face hiding in clothing from1999. He doesn’t snore, so Dennis knows it isn’t deep, much less relaxing. Butthis was Dennis’ R ‘n’ R day, and now he’s sharing it with Mac. He runs hisfingers through Mac’s fluffy, gel free hair, peppering kisses on soft skinwhere he can reach. He lets himself drift off too, Mac shielding him from theAC and the rest of the world like a blanket.

Later on, when the sun is down, and the heat is less suffocating, Macawakens, smacking his dry, cracked lips and scanning the living room. Dennisthinks it’s a hauntingly beautiful sight all while hoping Mac feels at leastsomewhat better. Mac sits up and leans his head on Dennis’ shoulder again. Thistime, there are no tears or sobs.

“Den?” Mac’s voice is shot to shit.

He kisses his forehead anyway. “Yeah, bud?”

“Do we have any popsicles?” he asks quietly. “’s hot,and my throat hurts.”

Dennis pecks Mac’s forehead one more time before getting to his feetand walking to the kitchen. He finds a box in the freezer, used for when Dennisscreams himself voiceless on the really bad days. He grabs blue raspberry forMac and orange for himself and snatches two beers for the road with high hopesMac will be thankful.

Mac smiles just a tiny bit when Dennis hands him the unwrapped Popsicleand already opened beer. He starts licking the icy treat, and Dennis rubs theback of his neck, almost weary of breaking this moment.

But Mac pats the cushion right beside him, and Dennis settles in, barefeet tucked beneath him and Mac close by.

~

January

Dennis’ shoulders hunch as Dee squeaks and squawks everywhere. He keepsswirling his finger around the rim of his glass, filled with ginger ale insteadof beer. He flinches when Charlie opens the basement door and bounds back intothe bar like a bundle of untapped energy. Dennis cringes hard when Frankaccidentally elbows him, pistachio shells flying all over the counter in frontof him. He blinks heavily, rubbing his temples with sweater paw hands. Mac watchesall of this happen and knows they’re heading straight into the danger zone.

“I’m pretty beat,” Mac announces with a yawn, stretching tomake it seem that much more authentic because he doesn’t need or really want toleave, but Dennis definitely does. “You ready to go home, dude?”

Dennis clenches his hands until his knuckles turn ghost white. Macdoesn’t expect a response and doesn’t receive one either. He isn’t surprised.He told Dennis - all but forced him - to stay in bed today the instant he cameout of his room wrapped in the weighted blanket and Mac’s sweater, an oldwinter one that’s navy blue and red, that’s far too big on him. But Dennis saidhe’s fine; he’s always fine, apparently. He told Mac he had a headache andwould feel better once he got some coffee in his system. Dennis downed threecups before they even left the apartment, eyes fogged over with a blanknessthat scares Mac.

“We were gonna smash rats in the alley!” Charlie screeches.

“Yeah, quit bein’ a pussy. Let’s go rage,” Frank adds.

“They just wanna go home to bang,” says Dee.

“I will cut you, bitch,” Mac spits out at Dee, turning hisattention to Charlie and Frank. “And I’m not being a bussy, douche-face.I’m tired. Sue me.”

Charlie blinks. “Okay, dude. But I’m a wicked bird lawyer, soyou’ll probably lose. Fair warning.”

“It’s true,” Frank says. “He is a great bird lawyer.I’ve seen it.”

Mac rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I’m out. You wanna go with me,Dennis?”

Dennis doesn’t answer, but he gets to his feet, and Mac watches himsway as he tugs on his coat and shuffles to the door. He bites his lip while hesteps in the slushy snow. It doesn’t take a genius to know Dennis is megaoverstimulated right now, but, luckily, Mac is a genius. He can handle this. Heis an expert in all things Dennis, after all.

“Seat belt,” Mac whispers. He’s careful not speak loudly ortouch as they bundle into the Range Rover.

But Dennis shakes his head a tiny bit, pointing to the left side of hisneck with a trembling finger. Mac gets what it means.

“Please? For me?”

He just wants Dennis to be safe.

Dennis buckles himself in, face oddly blank considering his opposition.He covers his ears as the Rover roars to life. The rumbling from the engine isn’tdoing either of them any favors. There’s too much noise. Too much touching him.Too much of everything. Dennis explained it to him once, babbling fromexhaustion and nearly delirious from the overload. He hears everything. Feelseverything, even colors. It’s like when a computer freezes, too many tasks openand loading. He wants to jump out of his skin just to make it stop.

It’s horrible. Mac would never want anyone to feel this way, but, withDennis, it happens fairly often. Mac knows the signs - tiredness, wearing comfyclothes regardless of style or appeal, hiding in the bathroom, all that stuff -but knows it isn’t enough. Sometimes, like today, Dennis just tries to tough itout, but it never lasts. Sometimes, he gives up before he even gets out of bed,cuddling into his pillows and refusing any form of sunlight. Sometimes, heneeds Mac wrapped around him or in the living room or out of the apartmentbecause invisible sounds wrack through his brain, and he can’t handle havinganyone home.

They’re quiet on the car ride home. Mac focuses on the road whileDennis stares idly at the falling snow. Dennis inhales sharply when the snowmelts against his face while they walk inside. The five flights of stairsaren’t great either. The moment they’re inside, Dennis goes to his room andcollapses on the mattress, curling himself beneath the weighted blanket, earsplugged harshly with cold fingertips. His boots are wet and soaking into thecomforter, but Mac knows better than to touch him or speak out loud right nowwhen there are other ways to communicate. He grabs a pen and paper andscribbles, 'Shoes?’ before showing it to Dennis.

Dennis looks at Mac with glazed eyes. They’re so beautiful.

'Want me to do it?’ he writes next

Dennis gives another barely recognizable nod. Mac removes his shoesswiftly and gently. He can feel Dennis trembling through the brief touch. Restand darkness are often the only things that will calm him down at this point.Mac quickly writes, 'Want me to stay?’

Another nod. Mac almost smiles in relief because he likes being closeto Dennis.

'Living room or here?’

Dennis blinks twice; Mac gets the drift. He draws the black outcurtains just in case, removes his coat and boots, and lies down on the otherside of the mattress, far enough away that they’re not touching but closeenough that he’s right here in case Dennis needs anything.

Mac drifts off listening to Dennis’ light, soft snores. He doublechecks he’s in reach of Dennis before letting himself fall into a deep sleep.

Later on, when the snow clings to the cracked pavement, Dennis curlsagainst Mac, nestling against him, cheek smushed into Mac’s shoulder. He’s warmand smells like cinnamon, and it makes Mac tingle in all the right and wrongplaces. Mac soaks in the silence, letting Dennis get his comfort however hewants.

He’s groggy when he feels a single light jab in his ribs. He blinksheavily. He can barely see in this darkness, but he knows Dennis’ eyes are openand bloodshot.

Mac nods, giving him the go ahead.

Dennis doesn’t speak - usually doesn’t for a long time after theseepisodes.

Instead, Dennis signs 'I love you’ in the dreary bleakness.

Mac’s heart swells.

He signs it right back.

[turtle-steverogers]

Departed- Chap 8

Read on a03 here

Warnings: None cuz Race deserves a goddamn break

IM SOrry if the grammar is OFF

It was way too early on a Saturday morning when a phone call woke Spot up.  Race sleepily reached up and pinched Spot’s nipple, sending a jolt through his body.  Spot yelped and swatted at Race’s hand, “Don’t do that, asshole.”

“Pick up your goddamn phone,” Race mumbled in response.  Spot sighed began to pry himself out of Race’s hold so that he could get his phone, but Race tightened his arms around him.

“You realize that I needa move to get my phone, right?” Spot said into Race’s curls.

Race whined, nestling his head further into Spot’s neck, “No, you’re warm,” the phone stopped ringing and Spot scoffed, “Looks like I’m not moving anyway.”

“Good,” Race hummed, “Back to sleep time- oh my god.”

They both groaned as Spot’s phone began to ring a second time.  

“Jesus, just get your phone,” Race said, rolling off of Spot.  Spot propped himself up on his elbow, leaning over to his bedside table to grab his phone.  He squinted at the bright screen to see that Albert was calling him.

“Al?” He answered.  

Race snorted behind him, “What does that idiot want?”

“I’m checkin’, Racer,” Spot said, kicking Race in the thigh.

“Rude,” Race grunted.

“You pinched my nipple earlier!  We’re even,” Spot exclaimed.

“Uh, hello?” Albert’s voice tentatively called through the speaker, “I’m still here.”

“Yes, hello,” Spot said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, “What do you need?  It’s five in the fuckin’ mornin’.”

“Oh, it is?” Albert sounded surprised, “I didn’t even realize.”

“Fuckin’ insomniac.”

“Shut up. Is Race in the room?”

“Yes, dumbass, you heard us talkin’ didn’t ya?”

“Point taken.  So now that we’ve established Race’s presence, leave it.”

“Leave his presence?” Spot leaned forward to rest his head on his hand.

“Mhm, we gotta talk about somethin’.”

“Alright,” Spot said, standing up and slipping out of his room, “What’s up.”

“Let me in,” Albert demanded.

“Oh my god, Albert.  If I open my door are ya gonna be on the other side?” Spot asked, dreading the answer.

There was a pause on the other end, “Uh, maybe.”

“Jesus, okay, I’m in my underwear. Gimme a sec,” He heard Albert snicker, “Shut up, you literally woke me up.  I was sleepin’, which means I was in my sleep clothes.”

Spot stuck his head back into his bedroom and called out softly to Race, “Hey, couldya pass me my sweats?  They should be on the floor by the bed.”

Race kept his eyes closed as he groped around on the floor, eventually tossing Spot a pair of sweatpants.

“Thanks,” Spot whispered, slipping on the pants.  They were several sizes too big for him and he frowned, “Race, you passed me yours.”

“Suffer,” Race said, pulling the blankets tighter around himself.

“Do you two share a bed over there?” Albert asked.

Spot blushed, “Y-yeah, I mean it’s jus’, uh-”

“Hm, cute,” Albert said, thoughtfully, “Anyway, let me in.”

Spot hurried over to the door and opened it.  For a moment, he didn’t see anyone, then someone cleared their throat from the ground.

“You were takin’ too long,” Albert was sitting criss cross on the floor, dressed in a fluffy blue robe.  His phone was still pressed to his ear and Spot realized that they were still on call.

Spot smirked as he hung up the phone, peering down at Albert in the darkness, “You’re stupid, what do you want?”

“I needya ta come over,” Albert said, reaching his hands up towards Spot, who took them and hoisted him up, “Race’s birthday is tomorrow and we gotta have somethin’ awesome planned for him.”

Spot rubbed his eyes tiredly, “And we couldn’ta done this over breakfast?”

Albert twitched his nose and shook his head, “It’s really stressin’ me out that we don’t have this planned in final yet and it’s tomorrow. I got an idea, but I need your opinion.”

Spot knew better than to argue with Albert when he was stressed, “Alright, I’m comin’.  Lemme jus’ go tell Race I’ma be gone for a bit.”

Albert studied him for a moment, an odd look in his eyes, “Spot?”

Spot shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, “Uh, what.”

“Do you,” Albert lowered his voice to a whisper, “Do you have, uh, feelings for Racer?”

Spot sputtered, heat rushing to his face, “I dunno, uh, maybe?  I dunno.  I mean I know it’s wrong cuz he’s still so fucked up from Melissa, but-”

“Hey, whoa,” Albert held his hands up, effectively stopping Spot from rambling, “It’s fine, man, I was just wondering.”

Spot pursed his lips, glancing behind him towards his bedroom, “I’m fucked, dude.”

Albert smiled softly, “You’re really good to him, ya know?  Like since all this shit’s gone down with that bitch, you’ve really kept him upright.  He’s told me that.”

Spot blinked at Albert in surprise, “He has?”

“Yeah, dude, he said that despite everything else, you’re probably one of the best things in his life right now.  Romantic or whatever, he loves you a lot.”

Spot looked down to hide the smile that was growing on his face, “I’ll be right back, dude.”

“Aight,” Albert pulled out his phone and leaned against the doorframe, waving Spot off.

Spot padded over to his bedroom and opened the door, “Hey, Racer, Al needs help with somethin’ so I’ma go over to his place for a bit.”

Race lifted his head to look at Spot, concern etched across his face, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Spot said, nonchalantly, “I’ll see ya later.”

“See ya.”  Spot carefully closed the door and grabbed his sweatshirt off its hook, pulling it over his head as he followed Albert out of his apartment.  They walked the short distance across the hall to Albert and Finch’s place, entering quietly so they wouldn’t wake Finch.

“I’ll make some coffee,” Albert whispered, disappearing into his kitchen.  Spot wandered to the living room, taking a seat on one end of the couch.  Albert reappeared a few minutes later, holding two mugs.  He handed one to Spot, who took a sip, wincing slightly when the hot liquid hit his tongue.

“It’s hot, dude, be careful,” Albert laughed.

Spot glared at him over his mug, “No shit.”

They both looked over to Albert’s bedroom when the door opened and Finch stuck his head out, squinting at his boyfriend, “Albert, baby?  Have you been up all this time?”  

Albert slurped his coffee loudly, “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh, love,” Finch softened, “C’mon, you need- oh, hi Spot.” Finch startled slightly when he noticed Spot.  

Spot saluted him lazily and offered him a tired smile, “Hey, Finch.”

“What’re you two doing?”

“Planning Race’s birthday tomorrow, apparently,” Spot said.

Finch strolled over and sat in between them on the couch.  Albert immediately curled into his side and Finch began to smooth a hand through his hair.

“Ooo, I’ll plan with y’all,” Finch said, planting a kiss on Albert’s head.

“Awesome, so,” Albert clapped his hands together, “I was thinkin’ a dinner cruise on the Hudson.”

Spot choked on his coffee, “You do realize how expensive that shit is, right?  Plus it’s like, twenty degrees outside.”

“No, no,” Albert sat up and tucked his legs under him, “I’ve already done my research, listen.  So, the dinner cruises for one night with this one company I looked at are $150 for a party of six, with an additional $25 per added members.  If the three of us, Race, Jack, Kath, Davey, and Crutchie go, that’d be $200.  Split that between everyone ‘cept Race, ‘cause he ain’t payin’ on his birthday, that’s only $28 ish a person.  Totally doable.”

Spot raised his eyebrows, “Man, you really did do your research.  Aight, I’m down.  What time does the cruise leave?  Do we still gotta invite the others?”

“The cruise leaves at 7:00 tomorrow night and goes ‘til 9:30.  It includes, like, a three course meal and there’s live entertainment and whatnot.  I already asked Jack and Kath if they’re in and they said yeah, but I still gotta reach out to Davey and Crutchie.”

“It’s always a little unnervin’ when ya suddenly take on responsibility,” Finch said.

Albert shrugged, “Stress is a drivin’ force, pal.  I just want it to be a good one for him, he’s had a rough time lately, so I figure he could use some spoilin’.”

“This is actually a really fun idea,” Spot said, pulling out his phone, “I’ll hit up Crutch and Davey.”

 “I’m already on it,” Finch said, holding up his phone to reveal texts sent to the two other men.

“Lovely,” Albert said, grinning, “Good work, boys.”

XXX

Spot got up earlier than Race again the next day to make him a birthday breakfast.  The day before, he had gone to World Market and picked various Italian breakfast foods, enlisting Katherine’s help in the actual preparation.

He set the table with the various pastries, breads, jams, and cookies that he had selected, then slipped back into his bedroom.

Spot was surprised to see that Race was already awake and on his phone.  He looked up when Spot entered and smiled, “Mornin’, Spottie.”

“Mornin’ Racer,” Spot slipped back into the bed and tugged on Race’s bicep.  Race melted into his arms and yawned, “Happy birthday, gremlin.”

“Thanks,” Race hummed happily.  They remained in that position for a few more minutes, until Spot heard Race’s stomach rumble.

“You hungry?” He chuckled.

“A bit.”

“C’mon,” Spot said, getting up and pulling Race out of bed, “I got breakfast.”

Race’s eyes widened as he took in the wide array of food that was set out on the table, “Merda santa,” He murmured, “Is that fette biscottate? Spot, oh my god, this is amazin’!”

He stuffed a roll in his mouth, then eagerly grabbed a plate and loaded it with small bits of everything on the table.  Spot laughed and joined him in taking food, sitting down across from him.

“Enjoyin’ it?” Spot asked.

“So much,” Race answered with his mouth full, “Thank ya, this is great.”

XXX

They were supposed to meet everyone else at Chelsea Piers around 6:30 to board.  Race had no idea that they had planned this for him, so when Spot told him to get his shoes on and follow him to his car, he was thoroughly confused.

“Where are we going?” Race asked for what had to be the hundredth time since they’d left Spot’s apartment complex.

“I told ya that you’ll see,” Spot said, calmly.

Race groaned and slid lower into his seat, propping his feet up on the dash, “Spottieeeee, c’mon, I’m impatient.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Spot said, “Put your feet down.”

Raced huffed and lowered his feet to the car floor, “You’re no fun.”

“Okay, Race.”

They arrived at the dock at 6:20 to find everyone already there.  Albert waved them over to the ticket station and pulled Race into a hug, “Happy birthday, man.”

“Thanks,” Race grinned, “What is all this?”

“Dinner cruise,” Finch piped up, “Albert’s idea.”

“Awe, man,” Race gripped Albert’s shoulder affectionately, “Thanks so much.”

“Least we could do for ya on the big 22,” Albert said, clapping Race on the back.

“We’d better get moving,” Davey said, fishing a wad of tickets from his pocket and distributing them to everyone, “It looks like people are getting on.”

They boarded the ship in pairs, eventually coming together as a whole group once they entered the main room.  The inside of the ship was decently large and elegant.  Tables lined the large glass walls and a cozy looking fireplace was located at one end of the room.  On the other end, a stage and dance floor were set up and a band was already playing music, adding to the pleasant atmosphere.  Albert had booked two tables for the group and they located them near the stage.  

“I’m so excited for food, man,” Race said, rubbing his hands together as he, Spot, Albert, and Finch sat down at one of the tables.

“Well, you’re in luck then,” Spot said as a waiter walked up to take their drink orders.  

“They serve duck?” Race asked, eyes wide as he stared at the menu.  

Spot looked down at his own menu and scoffed when he saw that duck was indeed and option on the appetizer menu, “Looks like it is.  Why?  Do ya like duck or somethin’?”

“I dunno, but I’ve always wanted ta try it.”

“Then order some god forsaken duck,” Albert said, taking a sip of the Sprite the waiter had just brought for him.

“Mayhaps I shall,” Race said, thoughtfully.

Finch cocked his eyes, eyebrows quirking up slightly, “Mayhaps?”

“It’s a word,” Race said, matter of factly.

Spot looked sideways at him, “It definitely isn’t.”

“Well, it is in my book, so hop of my dick.  It’s my birthday.”

“He has a point.”

“Shut up, Al.”

The waiter returned to take their meal orders, depositing a basket of bread on the table in the process.  Race immediately grabbed one of the butter packets and opened it, popping the slab of butter in his mouth.

“Race, what the fuck,” Spot said, taking a roll for himself.

Race wrinkled his nose, “Yeah, I dunno why I did that, that was disgustin’.”

“Race,” Jack called from the table behind them, “Didya just eat a whole butter package?”

“Uh, maybe.”

“Fuckin’ wild.”

The ship departed the dock at 7:00 exactly, the appetizers arriving not much later.  Race eagerly pulled his plate towards him, taking a large bite.

“What the fuck, it’s cold,” He said, gagging slightly, “And really salty.”

“Yeah,” Finch said, trying to hold back laughter, “Duck is usually served cold.”

“Well I didn’t know that, now did I?”

The rest of their meal came out one by one and by 8:00 everyone was finished and feeling thoroughly full.  The dance floor was beginning to fill up with other passengers as the band picked up the tempo in their songs.

Race and Albert perked up when the band began playing ‘Take Me to Church’ by Hozier and before anyone could process what was happening, the two of them had run onto the dance floor.  They immediately drew attention to themselves as they dove into pre-rehearsed choreography.  A small crowd started to watch them as they continued to dance and eventually a circle of impressed onlookers had formed.  The song finished and applause erupted from mass of people.  Albert and Race high fived, panting slightly as the adrenaline from their spontaneous performance wore off.  

“Looks good you two,” Spot praised, approaching the two boys  from his place at the edge of the dance floor.

“Thanks, we’ve been workin’ at it for some time,” Race said, lifting his shirt to wipe some sweat off his forehead.

The crowd dispersed as the band began to play a slow song and couples slowly started to fill the dance floor.  Albert darted off to find Finch, leaving Spot and Race standing awkwardly in the middle of the dance floor.  

“Should we go, uh, sit down?” Race asked, twisting his fingers together.

“Actually, hang on” Spot hurried back to their table and grabbed his bag from the back of his chair, then rejoined Race, “While everyone’s distracted with their people, I wanna give ya your present.  C’mon.”

Race’s eyes widened, “Spot, ya didn’t hafta get me anythin’-”

“Shut up, yes I did,” Spot led them towards the doors that opened to the ship’s balcony.  The slipped outside, immediately drawing their shoulders up as cold wind swept across the deck.  They found refuge in a small outdoor seating area and sat down beside one another on a deck chair.

“Here,” Spot dug a small package out of his bag and handed it to Race, “I gotcha these after Melissa ruined your last pair.”

Race stared down at the package for a moment, before cautiously opening it, “Spot, you didn’t…” he murmured, taking a pair of new ballet shoes out of the box and holding them up to the light.

Spot smiled, sheepishly, “I know they’re not anywhere near as special as your last pair, but I figured it was the least I could do.”

“No, Spot,” Race muttered, “They’re perfect.” He shook his head and breathed out a small laugh, turning the shoes over a few more times in his hands before placing them back in their casing.

He turned to Spot, a look of admiration on his face, “Thank you, I-” He cut himself off, his expression shifting into something new and unreadable.  Spot furrowed his eyebrows in concern and was just about to ask if he was okay when he felt a pair of lips meet his.  He froze for a moment then melted into the kiss, lifting a hand to tangle in Race’s curls.  The world seemed to stop as warmth spread throughout Spot’s stomach and he had to remind himself to keep breathing as Race’s grip on him tightened.

Race deepened the kiss and Spot pulled back just enough so that he could search Race’s eyes, “Are we gonna talk about this?” He whispered.

“We’re gonna hafta, but goddamnit let me just kiss you right now,” Race said, pulling Spot in by the front of his shirt.

“Sounds like a plan.”

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