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roosterforme · 2 days

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 6 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley asks you for your number, you can't believe he wants to spend his phone call on you. Even though you're nervous about asking, you realize you need answers to some of your questions. The promise of getting to hear your voice is enough to get Bradley through the week, but is he going to be enough for you?

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being sexy

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

When you woke up for work and checked your phone, there was a new email waiting for you from Bradley, and you couldn't decide what to do about it. As soon as you'd hit send on that selfie of you in bed, you felt like an idiot. Was he expecting something more than a random picture of you after you'd removed your makeup for the day? Was he going to eventually give up responding at all when he realized that one date with you was ultimately just a waste of his time on his stop back in San Diego?

But he had written back yet again, and you were nervous to see what he had on his mind. You dropped your phone into your purse, making a deal with yourself: you could read his response once you were at work. That would give you enough time to process your thoughts on the matter. You were being silly for wanting more and expecting more with every interaction. This man owed you nothing. You were probably in over your head with the mutual daydreaming and flirtation.

What were you going to do when it was easy for him to say that talking to you had been fun, but he needed to get back to his real life? What were you going to do when you weren't able to do the same?

Once you were settled at your desk looking at your Natural History notes in those last few minutes of solitude before your eighteen students arrived for the day, you let yourself indulge in Bradley's words.

Hey, Gorgeous,

You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...

It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?

Yours Truly,

Bradley

"Oh my god." You forced yourself to read it slower the second time around. He was thinking about you in his bed! He wanted your phone number! "What are you doing to me?" you groaned.

He wanted to call you. This man wanted to use his phone call allowance on you. He wanted to let you hear his deep, raspy voice over the phone while he spoke sentences that were tailor made for you. He expected you to be able to respond to him in real time? You were embarrassed to admit that it often took you hours or days to figure out how to reply to one of his emails after he set the butterflies off in your belly.

You did not know what you should do here, but you knew exactly what you were going to do. It was going to be impossible to pull yourself back out of this mess when the time came.

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

Before Bradley got a response to his email asking for your phone number, he got a box from your class. He could certainly get used to waiting in line when the mail arrived to find himself smiling with satisfaction instead of feeling disappointment. When he got back to his bunk and opened it, he rooted through all of the drawings of F/A-18s in search of the note from you. He smiled at the more businesslike greeting, knowing how many personal topics you and he had covered through email.

Dear Lt Bradshaw,

It seems as though we can't get enough of you. We're back, hoping for a little more of your time. Here's a batch of drawings for you to judge in any manner you see fit, but please be kind... I drew one of them.

Whether it's a handwritten note or an email, I'm looking forward to hearing from you soon.

Just looking at your tidy penmanship had Bradley antsy to check his email again. He had put himself out there as far as he could at the moment when he asked you for your phone number, but now he was nervous as hell. What was he supposed to do if you told him no? He'd already planned out not only a first date but a second date as well. He could wait you out. Unless you outright shut him down, he would take his time, making sure you were comfortable.

Upon inspection of the Super Hornet drawings, it was easy enough to determine which one was yours. It was clearly crafted with a steadier hand than the others, and even the block printing on the side of the aircraft where you'd written 'BRADLEY ROOSTER BRADSHAW' looked like your penmanship. He looked through the other ones, quickly making the assumption that the one with flames and dragon scales had been drawn by Oliver. The one with purple outlining was most likely from Violet. Something was telling him the one with a dog piloting the jet was drawn by Jayden.

He smiled at how connected to these kids he felt, but ultimately he tossed everything back into the box and started heading for the lounge. If you had responded to him with your phone number, he could get himself on the call schedule. His heart was racing, and his skin felt too warm as he logged into his email account. He had three new messages.

"Come on," he groaned when he was met with two names above yours in his inbox. Nat and Vanessa. He almost forgot about the fucking water bottle.

He tapped on the email from his best friend first.

Rooster, I need you to make better choices regarding your girlfriends, okay? I took care of it, but it wasn't pretty. Her pink monstrosity of a water bottle was in your kitchen cabinet, and then she tried to have a conversation with me. Sorry, but I called her a flaming bitch who never appreciated my best friend and said she needed to leave your house before I made her. Everything is locked up tight again to keep the rats out. When you get home, there's a new restaurant you can treat me to on Rendova Road. -Nat

He smiled as he tapped on the email from Vanessa which was exactly one sentence long.

I got my water bottle from your house.

"God bless Natasha Trace," he muttered, deleting Vanessa's email. Then he went ahead and deleted every email he had ever received from her. He shouldn't have been surprised that you and he had already exchanged more emails than he ever had with a woman he'd dated for several months. It didn't take long before they were all gone, and then he was left with the newest one you'd sent to him last night sitting at the top of his inbox.

"Here we go," he whispered, wiping his palm nervously on his pants before opening up your message to see what you had to say in response to his bold request for your phone number.

Bradley,

I read your last email an embarrassing number of times, trying to be sure I understood it properly. You want to use your phone call allotment on ME? And you were thinking about ME snuggled up in your bed? There's no possible way you could sound like an idiot. Not with that voice that I think about when I'm trying to fall asleep at night.

You know what, I don't even care if I misinterpreted something. Of course I'll let you have my phone number. Of course I'll let you call me.

Your giddy pen pal

Right there below your parting words was your full phone number complete with San Diego area code. Bradley smiled as he grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from the shelves behind him and wrote it down. He double and triple checked that he had it correct, knowing his next mission would be to get approved for a specific time slot and hope it wasn't going to be at a horrible time of day for you in California. Then he wrote back to your email.

Gorgeous,

You shouldn't sound so surprised. This thing we've got going on isn't open to interpretation on my end. I told you I have a thing for you. I believed you when you said you were interested in getting to know me. There's nobody else I'd rather spend my twenty minute phone call on than you. In fact, you're the only one.

I already memorized your number. I'll email you back when I know which day I can call you and at what time. I can't wait to hear your voice saying my name.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

He logged out and did some quick math to take into account the difference between time zones, and then he was all smiles as he signed up for the opportunity to finally talk to you in real time.

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You read his email again as the hours slowly ticked away on Saturday afternoon. Your friends were asking why you kept checking your phone while you were out to dinner. Well, they would be doing the same thing if Bradley Bradshaw was in their email inboxes sounding sweeter than any man had the right to.

Hey, Gorgeous,

How does 10:00 on Saturday night sound to you? I know it's a little late, but I didn't want to potentially interfere with your work week. And I don't know if I can wait until next week anyway. I'm feeling greedy right now when it comes to you. I can't wait to make a fool of myself on the phone.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

When you let him know in the calmest fashion you could muster that Saturday night was just fine for a phone call, he wrote back one additional sentence.

Talk to you then, Gorgeous Girl.

You received that email on Friday morning, and in an effort to seem less desperate for this man than you were, you didn't write back. It was better to let his anticipation grow to match your own. But once you'd parted ways with your friends and headed home for the night, your nerves settled in. You were going to have to ask Bradley where he lived, and that would be that. You'd know all the facts soon enough, and that would pretty much become the determining factor on how long the two of you could really keep this up.

It was almost time. You made sure your phone was fully charged, and you had your ringtone volume turned way up. Barring some sort of disaster, your phone should be ringing in exactly fifteen minutes.

"Chill out," you whispered as you walked a few laps around your apartment in your favorite underwear and an oversized sweatshirt. At 9:56 you paused in your bedroom doorway, convinced Bradley wasn't even going to call. And at 10:02, you sat on the edge of your bed with your phone in your hand, wondering how you managed to get yourself in this deep.

He was in the Navy. Things ran on precision. It was 10:04, and your phone was sitting there on your palm like a dead brick. "It's okay," you told yourself. "Maybe he'll still call." For a few minutes, you thought that being hopeful was the way to go. Perhaps he dialed the wrong number the first time and was just regrouping. Or perhaps not.

At 10:11, you set your phone on your nightstand and walked out into your living room without it. That was when you realized that the lighter-than-air tingling sensation you'd been enjoying all day was gone, replaced with something uncomfortable.

"Don't even think about crying," you whispered as you pulled the hem of your sweatshirt a little further down your legs. You'd normally be drinking a cup of tea and getting settled in to try to go to sleep. A few months ago, you might have even been scrolling through a dating app right now. But you didn't want to do either of those things when you'd essentially been promised something as exciting as Bradley Bradshaw's voice for twenty minutes straight. "Fuck."

Just as you dragged your toe along the kitchen tile, trying to decide what to do now, you heard your ringtone. The clock on your microwave told you it was 10:16 as you turned and ran for your bedroom. Your fingers were shaking as you snatched up your phone and read RESTRICTED CALLER on the screen. You weren't sure what you'd been expecting, but it had to be him.

You took a deep breath and sank down onto the floor with your back against the side of your bed, and without any further hesitation, you answered the call as your heart hammered hard in your chest.

"Bradley?"

There was just a short pause, and it sounded like he was smiling when he said, "Hey, Gorgeous."

The lighter-than-air tingling sensation was back as soon as you heard him say two whole words, and you slid slowly down until you were laying on your back on the floor like a boneless mess. "Hi," you sighed, pressing your free hand to your belly to try to calm the butterflies.

You heard him clear his throat softly before he said, "I'm really sorry I'm late calling you. I've been waiting for this all damn weekend." There was an edge to his voice that gave you goosebumps on your legs, and you smiled before you immediately frowned.

"Does this mean we only have four minutes to talk instead of twenty?" you asked him.

"No, I made sure of that," he replied in his deep rasp. "I even got a little bitchy with the guy before me who wouldn't end his call on time. I told him the most gorgeous teacher from Mira Mesa Elementary was waiting for me to call and that I'd be lucky if she still wanted to talk to me now."

You couldn't help but laugh as the tingling sensation made its way to your fingers and toes. "You didn't tell him that!"

"I swear I did," he insisted, his voice on the verge of laughter. "He sends his apologies." He cleared his throat once more before he asked, "Any chance you could say my name again?"

You thought you detected some nervous energy in his voice which was somehow the most flattering thing you'd ever encountered. You closed your eyes and licked your lips, picturing his handsome face as you said, "Bradley."

Now his voice was as breathless as you knew yours was. "Yeah. I really like the way that sounds."

"Bradley," you repeated with a laugh as you rolled up into a little ball on your side with your phone held to your ear.

"Hey, if you want to just say my name for the next eighteen minutes, I'm not going to complain. I was dying to hear your voice, and now I just want more of it."

You had to press your lips together to keep from making an embarrassing sound, but you did manage to say, "Yeah, that's not really going to work for me, Lieutenant Bradshaw. I'm going to need some back and forth, especially with how much I like your voice. And your face."

He groaned softly, and now you really did make an embarrassing noise before you could clap your free hand over your mouth. "My face is nothing special, Gorgeous," he said. "Yours on the other hand... that's the kind of thing that could get a guy through a long deployment."

You whimpered, and you were sure he could hear it. But you weren't even as embarrassed as you were needy for more. You wanted to know everything about him, and twenty minutes wasn't going to be enough to satisfy you when it came to Bradley. "Let's just say you've had my full attention for months now. And the photos you sent are enough to get a girl through a long school year. Will you tell me how you got your scars?" you asked him. It was something you'd been curious about since the first photo he sent where you could see his face. The one of him standing tall and sexy in front of his jet.

"Oh, hell," he laughed, his voice taking on a self deprecating tone. "I knew I shouldn't have sent that sunset selfie. I was kind of hoping you wouldn't be able to see them in the photos or the video. I have a lot."

You scrambled to your knees and then your feet. The last thing you'd meant to do was make him feel badly about himself. "They just make you look hotter," you blurted out. "I've thought about kissing them."

"Shit," he grunted. "Baby, I'll tell you anything you want to know. My social security number? My bank account information?" You laughed and had to bite down on your knuckle as he said, "I got my scars when I was a sophomore at the University of Virginia. Just typical nineteen year old guy bullshit. I was riding my bike back from a party late, and I skipped the curb. Just a lot of stitches."

"Oh," you gasped.

"It's okay," he said quickly. "More superficial than anything. I didn't even miss any of my classes. This is just why I don't usually send selfies like that. But you're already an exception, aren't you?"

He was so sweet, you were afraid the butterflies would never stop. But now you were picturing him going back to a beautiful house in Virginia, and it just made you sad. You paced the length of your room as you said, "I'd still really like to see your face in person."

"That's a done deal, Gorgeous."

You bit your lip, already knowing how you were going to react, but you just needed to have all the facts. "I know we could probably meet for a date or two while you're on leave in San Diego, but what happens after that?"

There was a brief pause before he asked, "What do you mean?"

You tipped your head back and looked at your ceiling as you finally said, "I don't even know where you live or where you're stationed. All I know is that if you're returning to Virginia or somewhere else far away... I'm going to have to brace myself for it."

But when you heard his next sentence, you let yourself drop down onto your bed with a smile on your face. "Gorgeous Girl, I live in San Diego."

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

This was going well. Bradley's whole body was thrumming with anticipation, and your voice was already embedded in his mind. As soon as you mentioned just the thought of your lips on his scarred cheek, he had to stand up for a minute. And when you brought up meeting him when his deployment ended, he was afraid his heart rate might never return to normal.

"I'd still really like to see your face in person," you told him, and all he could think about was Thai food on the beach and kissing your lips.

"That's a done deal, Gorgeous," he replied, satisfied in knowing for sure that it was going to happen now, but your follow up question left him confused.

"I know we could probably meet for a date or two while you're on leave in San Diego, but what happens after that?"

After that? He sat back down in his seat and thought about what would happen after a date or two. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands and lips off you, but somehow he didn't think that's what you were talking about. "What do you mean?"

Your voice took on a softer, maybe sadder quality as you told him, "I don't even know where you live or where you're stationed. All I know is that if you're returning to Virginia or somewhere else far away... I'm going to have to brace myself for it."

He froze. He hadn't told you where he lived? Had he really never mentioned it once in all the times he wrote out the address to your school in Mira Mesa? His heart was beating erratically now as he pieced together the fact that he was making all of these plans while you were trying to protect yourself, but you kept emailing him and sending him letters anyway. You were showing that you had genuine interest in him while afraid he was going to leave you high and dry after one date? Hell no. Oh, he was falling hard.

"Gorgeous Girl, I live in San Diego."

Your little surprised gasp had him holding his breath. "You do?" you whispered.

"I do," he promised. "Shit, I can't believe I never mentioned it. My house is in Coronado, near the beach in the photo you sent me where you look more flawless than the sunset. I'm so sorry I got so carried away with our emails that I never put it together that you didn't know I'm stationed out of North Island."

You were quiet for a beat, and he wanted to crawl through the phone and reassure you that he had never meant to stress you out. "You live in Coronado?" you asked.

"Yeah, Gorgeous. About thirty minutes away from your school. I mean, there's always traffic, so maybe forty minutes," he told you nervously. "I hope that's not too far for you to deal with?"

"That's nothing, Bradley," you said with a sigh. "That's... absolutely not too far. I thought you potentially lived thousands of miles away, and I was trying to figure out what to do about my feelings. I was so scared to ask you sooner."

Vanessa wouldn't even drive the extra ten minutes to the restaurant he liked, meanwhile you were putting yourself out there for him. He cleared his throat and said, "I already have our first date planned out."

"Tell me. In an abundance of detail."

Bradley's skin tingled with desire as he divulged his daydreams. "I'll drive up and pick you up at your place. You already gave me permission to hold your hand, so that's happening on the ride back to the beach. There's a good Thai place not too far from the bay bridge where we'll stop to pick up dinner. Then when we get to the beach, you'll be surprised and charmed that I packed blankets and a cooler full of beer and a bottle of prosecco. And we can sit on the beach, talking and eating while the sun sets, unless you'd rather sit in the back of my vintage Bronco. And then, when the sky is just starting to turn purple, I'm going to kiss you."

The beat of silence was satisfying before you asked, "You're going to wait until after dinner to do that?" He could practically hear your pout which made him get to his feet again. He only had five more minutes with you right now, and he was going to have to make this count.

"You want me to kiss you before that?" he asked, his fingers wrapping around the edge of the counter as your soft laughter met his ears.

"I want you to kiss me as soon as you see me."

"Fuck," he panted. "Then consider that a done deal too, Gorgeous."

"Oh, I like that."

"Yeah?" he asked, watching time slip through his fingers. "You feel more confident now that you know where I live?"

"Yes," you replied softly.

"Good." He closed his eyes as he said, "We only have a little more time right now, Baby. Anything else you want from me?"

You squeaked softly. "Will you email me a gym selfie or two? With a nice closeup of your face?"

He couldn't get over you and the way you made him feel. "Yeah. I'll hit the gym tomorrow for you."

You hummed softly, and he sat down in his chair again, raking his fingers through his hair. God, he felt like a mixed up mess over you after this conversation. Your voice was so fucking sweet as you asked him, "Anything you want from me?"

His plentiful thoughts ranged the full spectrum from innocent to decidedly not as he tugged on his hair and tried to keep himself in check. "Yeah, actually," he said, gravel filling his voice. "You know that inactive dating profile you mentioned before?"

"Yes."

"You should delete the app. There's nothing I know about you that I don't like, and I feel like that trend is going to continue. If you feel the same way, then you don't need the app, Gorgeous."

After a brief pause, your beautiful voice told him, "Okay, Bradley. I'll delete it."

"Fucking aces," he said with a smile. "Where are you right now?"

You laughed softly as he realized he had less than a minute left on this call. "Curled up in my bed with the biggest smile on my face."

"Send me a selfie?"

"Consider it done, Lieutenant. It'll be there when you check your email next."

He leaned back in his chair. There was still so much he wanted to tell you and ask about, but it would have to wait. "Listen, I need to go. But I'm going to work on writing back to your class this week. And I'll get the selfies for you, too. I'll see you in our inboxes?"

That soft laughter was right there again, and he felt like his skin was on fire as you said, "I'll take you any way I can get you, Bradley."

You could have him as many ways as you wanted him. "I can't wait to get back to San Diego."

"I'll be ready when you do."

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I'm sweating. He's too much. He's too powerful. Bradley Bradshaw, get home and get your girl some Thai food! Also, Natasha is the friend of the year for taking out the trash. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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holylulusworld · 3 days

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Every Breath You take (1)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Bucky x Alpine (platonic)

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, bitchy boss, secret admirer trope, voyeurism

A/N: We start slowly to get to know them and their backstory. In this part, we will get to know Y/N better.

A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (Prologue)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

You’re chewing on your lower lip, humming at something your boss said. He’s boring as hell and so demanding. With his hands on his hips, he glares at your lunch as if he wants to turn it to ashes.

All you want to do is tell him to leave you alone during lunch break. You’re just too polite and nice to do so.

He can bug you during work time, but not in the precious moments you use to catch up on the latest gossip on your phone.

You were about to read about an affair Tony Stark had with an intern. Fake news, you’re fairly sure, but it’s still entertaining reading all the furious and stupid comments.

“Sure,” you nod and make a mental note, hopefully not forgetting about his next demand before you reach your desk to write it down. “Right after my lunch break.” You point out and give him a fake smile.

“You better hurry,” he snaps at you and storms off. “If not, you can look for a new job.”

He cannot fire you per se. Your boss is not as important as he thinks he is. One word to the HR and he can kiss his ass goodbye.

You’re just indifferent when it comes to your boss and his antics. You prefer to ignore his sometimes nasty comments.

The world is cold and unfriendly enough. You don’t want to be the kind of person adding more hatred to this world.

Bucky aimlessly strolls through the streets. He prepared everything for tonight, and now he’s a little lost because you are still at work.

It became his obsession to make sure you came home safely. He’d kill the time, window shopping or imagining how’d feel to hold your hand.

Time. Bucky needs more time to prepare himself to meet you for real.

He wants your first date to be perfect. Therefore, he must watch you a little longer to get to know you better. – At least that’s how he justifies he’s following you like a shadow for the better of three weeks.

Bucky stops in front of your favorite bookstore, he looks out the window, wondering if he should buy you a book and gift it to you this week, or wait a little longer.

He shakes his head. No. Bucky will start with the usual gift. Flowers. He saw you carry flowers inside your apartment over the last weeks more than once.

You love flowers, and he will find out which ones you love the most. Bucky doesn’t want to gift you the wrong flowers and disappoint you.

He already has a plan. According to your schedule – which he knows by heart – you will go to the little café close to your home. The perfect opportunity to sneak inside your apartment and get to know you even better.

Bucky will take any chance to make you see he’s more than his bad reputation. To the people out there he’s still the Winter Soldier. He doesn’t want you to think the same about him.

All he wants is to keep you safe and happy. Bucky’s new mission is the most important one he ever had.

For today, he will wait patiently to follow you home, making sure you’re safe. There are many dangerous people out there, wanting to hurt or take advantage of a lovely person like you.

“Phew, home sweet home,” you sigh and plop down onto your sofa. You’re tired, and hungry and would kill to have someone to massage your shoulders. “What a shitty day.”

You hate to get back up, but you need a shower and search your fridge to find anything eatable. Your boss made sure you were working overtime, and you didn’t have the energy left to buy groceries.

Slowly getting back up, you sigh. You’d love to fall asleep right here on the couch, but it won’t do you any good.

Instead of sleeping, you walk out of the living room to have a shower. There’s still enough time left to watch your favorite show and eat leftovers from your fridge.

“She looks tired,” Bucky worriedly watches you with his binoculars when you walk back inside your living room. You yawn and rub your tired eyes. “She’s wearing cute pajamas, Alpine.”

Your secret admirer swoons. “Isn’t our girl beautiful?” He dips his head to look at Alpine sitting on his lap. The white cat meows and rubs his cheek into Bucky’s shirt. “She’ll be such a good mommy for you.”

Bucky pats Alpine’s head, gently murmuring the cat’s name. Alpine is his only companion, and he wants the cat to love you too.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers while lifting the binoculars to his eyes again, “she’s a wonderful and kind person. Y/N will love you too.”

Bucky inhales deeply as he presses your shirt to his nose. He’d love to take it with him, but for now, the top and panties he found under your bed must do. Bucky cannot risk taking more of your things right now.

In due time, he will take more of your things to bring them to the house he plans to buy for you and him. He’s already ahead of his plans, but Bucky never felt like this again. Not since Hydra turned him into a monster everyone still fears.

“Soon,” he hums and walks around your bedroom. Bucky takes his time, and even risks lying in your bed for a moment. He sniffs at your pillow, inhaling your scent deeply.

Bucky sighs. He can’t risk leaving his scent on your sheets and must slip out of your bed too soon for his liking.

Time. He needs more time. Bucky tells himself all over again. He cannot risk scaring you off, or that you’ll be afraid of him.

He’s a protector, not a villain.

Bucky slowly walks out of your bedroom and inside your bathroom. He wants to know more about the products you like, and maybe sniff at your perfume too.

You’re still at work, and he has all the time in the world before he will pick you up from work and bring you home. In his mind. – He cannot turn up at your workplace and offer you a ride home. Not yet.

Bucky lurks around the corner to watch you walk out of the building. You’re angrily wiping your eyes and even cussing. Something you never did before.

“Who hurt you, doll?” He asks himself, and the person delivers the answer on a silver plate.

Your boss storms after you, calling you a dumb bimbo while throwing a tantrum like a man-child.

Bucky squares his jaw. He clenches and unclenches his metal fist, ready to beat your boss into a bloody pulp.

No—not now. Not here. He will bring you home first and come back. Bucky will avenge you, and make sure your boss will never dare to raise his voice around you again.

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #stalker!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #x reader #Every Breath You take (1)

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mrwavellswaps · 3 days

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Drained

<Jack> So I’ve got something to confess but you’ve gotta promise not to be pissed with me okay?

<Koby> Oh god. What the hell have you gone and done Jack?

<Jack> Well… You know how I’ve been using that magic amulet we found to switch bodies with sexy hunks and what not?

<Koby> How could I possibly forget you pinning me down time every night and fucking me with every new body you steal. My asshole still hasn’t recovered from the time you swapped with that meathead with the 9 inch cock. Why? What the hell have you done?

<Jack> Hahaha… Uhh… you see ever since we got the amulet there was a guy I wanted to swap with right away but I wasn’t sure you’d be happy with it. I’ll just show you…

<Koby> WHAT THE FUCK JACK!!! YOU SWITCHED BODIES WITH MY STEP-DAD?!

It all started a few months back when Jack got his hands on a very special amulet. It wasn’t long after he bought it from a strange jewellery shop that he found out about its ‘special properties’. The amulet allowed Jack to switch bodies with anyone he wanted! Just by wearing it and looking at the person he wanted to become with the intent of switching, it would happen. Almost instantly reality would shift as Jack’s body and clothes transformed into theirs while vice versa happened to the other person. Needless to say it was a thrilling experience that he and his boyfriend quickly began to abuse. Having Jack swap with all sorts of hot hunks to spice up the sex and dating lives. Always swapping Jack back to normal in the end though as not to make things too confusing. They even tried getting Koby to wear the amulet and switch with someone a few times but it only seemed to work for Jack for whatever reason.

But that’s where Koby’s step-dad Brian comes in. Jack had been crushing on the older man ever since the moment he laid eyes on him. He was such an incredibly handsome older daddy with perfect silver hair and voice that could melt Jack into a puddle. Not to mention Brian was jacked! Despite being a middle aged man he kept himself in incredible shape and it really showed. Koby had suspected for a while that Jack had a crush on his step-dad but had chosen to ignore it, knowing how awkward of a topic it would be.

That said, ever since obtaining the amulet, the idea of switching with Brian had plagued Jack’s horny mind almost every day. But he’d strayed away from it for the sake of his boyfriend. It’d be too fucked up. But as time went on… his desire for Brian’s body only grew.

It all came to a head when Jack went to visit Koby’s parents to drop a few things off while Koby was at work. Of course it just so happened that Koby’s step dad opened the door, seemingly getting ready to go to the gym. The older man was wearing a tank top that hugged his torso tightly, showing off his pecs generously to the point where Jack could clearly see Brain’s pointed nipples underneath. But what really made Jack want to cum on the spot were the incredibly short gym shorts that Brain had on that left nothing to the imagination. Showing off his meaty legs in all their glory and allowing for Jack to make out the outline of Brain’s thick dad dick.

“Heyyyy Jack! What’s up?” Brain asked with that perfectly masculine voice as he smiled kindly with his handsome bearded face. It was too much. Jack couldn’t contain himself.

“What’s up… is that I need your hot fucking dilf body!” Jack blurted out as he swiped the smiley out of his pocket and put it on.

“W-what!?” Brain’s expression quickly turned to shock and confusion. But before he could even process what was happening, Jack activated the amulet’s power.

Jack grinned maliciously as his body began bulking up considerably. His chest heaving forwards into thick pecs, his arms expanding with delicious looking mass and his legs practically ballooning with incredible new size and strength. And as muscle all over his body continued to bulge bigger, he also found himself growing older and more mature. His skin beginning to weather slightly as his hair greyed. His face swiftly twisted as its features changed almost in an instant before a short and well trimmed silver bearded grew across it. Jack couldn’t help groaning with excitement as he felt his body reshaping itself into a total daddy. His ass quickly becoming nice and rounded while his cock thickened considerably. Even the moans escaping his mouth deepened into much sexier ones that immediately made his new dick twitch.

All the while his clothes morphed along with his body. The baggy t-shirt he’d been wearing changed into the exact same form fitting tank top Brain had been wearing. The same happened with his jeans as they shrunk into the very same tight gym shorts he’d been wanting to rip off Brian seconds ago. Even his socks and shoes changed into Brian’s sports socks and trainers.

It seemed like an eternity but after only a short few seconds, Jack had completely transformed into his boyfriend’s hot step dad. All of that muscle. All that dick. All that hot dad energy. It all belonged to Jack now as he looked down at himself with eyes full of lust and wonder. Meanwhile Brian stood across from him, having just undergone the opposite transformation into Jack’s former body.

“W-what… W-what the F-FUCK is happening!? You look just like me!? And I… I feel weird. I don’t… why? What’s going on!? Why do you look like me!?!?” Brain screamed hysterically at the front door.

“Yessssss… finally. This body is mine.” Jack groaned as ran his hands across his new face and beard before lowering them to his chest and giving his pecs a squeeze. “Mmmmmm it feels even better than I imagined.”

Naturally Brain continued to be hysterical and demand answers from his imposter. Afraid of creating a scene, Jack pulled Brain into the house where he explained the situation. Telling the older man that he’d just switched their bodies. Brain began to rave and rant, demanding his body back but was quickly silenced when Jack threatened to never switch them back. Little did he realise how true that threat would soon become.

Jack made sure to spend a few hours admiring himself. Checking out every inch of Brian’s hot dad body. Touching it in every place he could think of. All the while the real Brian had to try and cover his ears and hide in another room so as to not have to listen to his step son’s boyfriend moaning about how much he loved his hot hunky dilf body while jerking off his stolen cock. But eventually after blowing multiple dad loads, Jack decided it was time to swap back. After all, he couldn't have Koby finding out about this.

Except… the amulet didn’t work. Jack had no idea why, but he couldn’t get it to activate! He started to worry a little which only sent Brian into a full on panic. That’s when he noticed it. The signature purple glow of the amulet was gone. He’d noticed it slowly getting dimmer and dimmer recently with every swap but he hadn’t thought it was a big deal. Yet now it was gone all together!!

“Fuck fuck fuck. This is bad. Fuck what do I do…” Jack mumbled to himself with Brian’s deep sexy voice. “Okay. Don’t panic. There has to be a solution. I’ll just uhhh… go to the gym in this hot daddy body and work out for a bit to clear my mind. Yeah. Then I’ll find a way to fix this.”

And that’s exactly what he did. Telling Brian to stay inside while he headed down to the gym. He was already dressed for it after all. And when he got there Jack couldn’t help but feel all the eyes on him checking out his gorgeous body being shown off by his tight gym clothes. He had to admit he loved the attention. So much so that he was trying his best not to get a massive erection as he worked out. Yet as he came to the end of the workout session he’d made for himself, he still couldn’t think of a way to work the amulet. He’d even tried to test it while at the gym to see if he could swap with another dude there. But nothing. That’s when he knew he had to break the news to Koby…

<Koby> WHAT THE FUCK JACK!!! YOU SWITCHED BODIES WITH MY STEP-DAD?!

<Jack> I’m sorry! I’ve been crushing on him for ages. I tried to resist but I just couldn’t help myself. Your step-dad is just so fucking hot.

<Koby> This is so fucked up.

<Koby> Please for the love of god get the fuck out of my step-dad’s body.

<Jack> Well… That’s kinda why I messaged you.

<Koby> Jack. What have you done?

<Jack> I think I might be stuck in your Step-Dad’s body.

<Koby> What?! How?! Did you lose the amulet or something!?!?

<Jack> No I’ve got the amulet. It’s just… it would probably be better if we talk about this in person. I’m at the gym your step-dad usually goes to. Meet me here.

An hour later Koby finally showed up at the gym. He messaged Jack that he was outside in the car park so Jack wasted no time in running out to see him so he could explain what was going on.

“Fucking hell Jack…” was the first thing Koby said as he watched his boyfriend jogging up to him in his step-dad’s body,

“Sorry…” Jack said as he couldn’t help giving a cute but guilty smile. “Your step-dad was too hot to resist.”

“Yeah yeah you already said that. I don’t need to hear it again. Now tell me what the fuck is going on. Why the hell can’t you switch back?” Koby growled with a mix of annoyance and concern.

Jack sighed. “Well… I think the amulet might be out of charge.”

“Out of charge? What do you mean out of charge. How can a magical artefact thing be out of charge?!”

Jack shrugged his new muscled shoulders at the question. “I dunno! Maybe it just ran out of its magical juices or something?” He reasoned as he pulled out the amulet, showing it to his boyfriend. “Look. The jewel isn’t glowing at all anymore. I think it’s just drained.”

Koby was silent for a moment as he processed everything before finally speaking up again. “Jesus fucking Christ… I can’t believe this.” He tossed his head back in frustration. “So. Not only did you switch bodies with my own fucking step-dad… but you’ve stranded yourself in his god damn body!? What the fuck Jack!”

Jack took a step closer, putting a hand on Koby’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. “Look, I'm sorry. I promise I didn’t mean for this. I was just gonna steal his body for a couple hours, have some fun and swap back. That was it I promise. I didn’t know this stupid amulet was gonna run out of juice before I could undo it!” He reasoned as best he could.

“Well that doesn’t matter now does it! It happened and now you’re stuck like this.” Koby shouted in frustration, his voice echoing across the car park and catching the attention of a few people. “Because let’s face it. Neither of us have any clue on how to recharge that thing so it might as well just be a useless piece of junk now. You’re stuck as… as my fucking step-dad! God that’s so FUCKED!” Koby buried his face in his hands.

Jack wasn’t sure what to say. Koby was right. They had no idea how to recharge this thing or if it even could be recharged. The only place they could’ve thought to find answers was that strange shop Jack had gotten the amulet from to begin with but unfortunately it’d up and disappeared not long after Jack bought it. The shop having been replaced with a coffee place.

“Look… I might be stuck like this now but…” before Jack could finish, Koby cut him off.

“But what?! We can just keep being a happy couple despite this?? You’re in my fucking step-dad’s body now Jack! How the hell are we supposed to continue being a couple???”

Jack frowned slightly. “Koby. Please. We can make it work.”

“How? How could we possibly make this work?”

Jack thought for a moment. Yet as he did, a somewhat mischievous glint sparkled in his eye. He took another step closer to Koby, closing the distance between them even more as he looked down at his boyfriend with a small smirk. “Come on babe. You’re seriously gonna tell me you’ve never had thoughts about your step-dad huh? Your hot… hunky step-dad who never has any problem showing off his handsome body?”

“W-what?” Koby looked up at Jack with a shadowy look of shock on his face. “Why would you even suggest that?! I… I’m not into my own step-dad Jack! That would be so fucked up!” Yet he didn’t make any attempt to move away.

“Really? Because I find that hard to believe. I mean just look at this body.” Jack gestured down at himself before giving his biceps a cocky flex. “I’m an absolute fucking hunk. The kind of daddy most people have wet dreams about.” He moved even closer. So much so that his impressive pecs were almost pressing up against Koby’s face. Practically begging the smaller man to bury himself between them. “Surely you must’ve snuck a glance at him here and there when he wasn’t looking. Maybe sneaking a peek at him through the crack of the bedroom door while he was getting changed one time? Or perhaps you’ve snuck into his dirty clothes hamper and stolen a pair of his underwear…” Jack grinned.

Koby shook his head. “N-no! I’ve never done any of those things! I… don’t…” he stumbled on his words slightly as his eyes couldn’t help glancing over the body of his step-dad.

“You don’t what? Fantasise about fucking your hot step-daddy? Come one Koby. I can see it in your eyes. You want me. You want this.” Jack gave his pecs a quick bounce. And before Koby could even give a response, Jack grabbed Koby’s hand and dragged it towards his crotch. Forcing Koby to cup his step-dad’s fat cock through those tight gym shorts. “You want my big dad dick, don’t you boy?”

Koby felt a shiver run up his spine as his hand groped the outline of his step-dad’s manhood. It was huge. And just touching it was making him so damn horny. He tried to resist the forbidden feeling but he just couldn’t. And as Jack slowly leaned in for a kiss, Koby couldn’t bring himself to pull away. And before he knew, their lips collided and Koby found himself making out with his own step dad. It was so unbelievably fucked up and yet he couldn’t help getting a massive hard on…

“W-wait… I… How is this even gonna work? You’re still my step-dad. What are other people gonna think?!” Koby finally said as their lips separated.

“Who gives a fuck what other people think. We’re not related, not by blood anyway, so what’s the harm?” Jack reasoned as he wrapped his arms around Koby with a reassuring smile. “All that matters is that we’re together. Just let daddy look after you from now on.” He continued as he pulled Koby into a deep hug. Rubbing their bulging crotches together in the process. “And from now on call me Brian.”

Koby didn’t say anything. Instead just allowing himself to lean into the hug. To lean into Jack… no Brian’s muscle. This was the most fucked situation he could imagine and yet he couldn’t help being enthralled by it.

“Now how’s about you and I head home, boy? I’m just itching to stuff that tight hole of yours nice and full with Daddy’s cum.” The new Brian grinned as he took Koby’s hand, ready to embrace their new life and any controversy that may follow…

To be continued?

#male body swap #male body theft #age progression #stepdad #identity theft #musclegrowth #male muscle growth #male transformation #muscle theft #male tf #magic #permanent #hairy #daddy #dad #dad and son #young adult to middle aged #middle aged to young adult

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silken-moonlight · 1 day

Text

Part 3 of your Werwolf best friend in a rut

You woke up to something hot and wet on your pussy. Immediatly opening your eyes you found your bestfriend between your legs with a bowl and a wet towel. He wanted to clean you up.

You felt dizzy, a littme lightheaded too. When you suddenly remebered why yoj were so exhausted and why your body ached like it did. Again your bestfriend apologized as much as he could. Telling you that he felt so sorry, so guilty for using you like that. You however felt amazing. Telling him that made him look at you with big puppy eyes. There was something in his eyes, which made him look slightly mad. You could see his need and desire, after all he was still in rut and he made you cum more times than you could count...Would it hurt to help him out a little more? Probably not.

So you offered him to help him out a little more. Your face was blushed, he smiled at you. Firstly he wanted to make sure you're feeling better. So while you took a shower he ordered food and changed the bedsheets. You returned in an oversized shirt, not even putting on panties. The thought of him doung things to your body made you already wet...

His head jerked around to you when you walked into the kitchen, he licked his lips and looked down on you. "We....we need a safeword. If I get to ahead of myself..." You nodded, aggreing on his mothers name as a safeword. Suddenly you found yourself sitting on the counter, his head burried between your legs. He was eating you out like a man starved. You were still so sensitive, whimpering and gripping his hair. But then the doorbell rang. Your bestfriend whined but parted from your pussy and went to get the Pizza. After the quickest meal ever he was on you again. This time his hands explored your body. Finding your breats and his mouth latched onto your nipple. He hummed and closed his eyes as he sucked it in. All you could do was moaning and holding onto him. His habd teased your other nipple and his other hand delved between your legs, rubbing your clit in slow circles. Wetness pooled beneath you on the couch. It felt so good, too good. You came out of nowwhere, his mouth quickly finding your pussy and lapping up all the wetness there. "You taste amazing..." he told you, his fingers joining the game as he begin to let two fingers sink into your hole. He fingered you in a slow rythm. "I will make you cum so many times you'll forget any guy before me..." He whispered betweein sucking and lapping at your cunt. Those words only made you clench around his fingers.

"Do you like that, baby?" He asked, looking up at you with his face wet from your very essence. "Do you want me to breed you? Fuck you over every surface here? Will you be a good friend and let me breed you?" He asked, you were far too gone and nodded, clenching harder and trembling when he inserted a third finger. "My cock will spread you so open, but you will take it like a good girl." The mention of his cock made you whine out loud. You needed him to fill you, so you begged him. It didn't take him long to completly. You were so wet. Your best friend placed his cock at your entrance. Rubbing your clit in circles as his length disappeared into you. Slowly; inch by inch, you whined, begging him to go faster. When you uttered the words:"Please breed me!"

He lost it. He sank fully into you and fucked you in a maddening pace. Suddenly he stopped, turned you around on your belly and pressed your face into the Sofa. A slap landed on your ass as he drilled into you like there was no tomorrow. You came again. "Such a good girl for me." He praised you between moans. "Brave girl, getting fucked by my werewolf cock." He went on, another slap landed on your ass which made you whine in delight. His praising made you clench and milk his cock. "Good little human, such a good girl." He went on. His hips slapped into yours, one hand on your hips and the other played with your clit. You were seeing stars by now. You lost count of your orgasms.

"Fuck..." he muttered. "I'm going to cum....Fuck...not yet...Fuck..." he groaned, wanting to pull out but it was too late. His knot was already on its way into your pussy. Filling you up so much that you began to cty out of pleasure. You came togehter, so hard your legs trembled and everythibg felt fuzzy. He came inside you, moaning before collapsing on top of you. Knot buried so far inside you while he placed sloppy kisses on your shoulder. Both coated in sweet, but satisfied.....for now.

_______

Taglist: @kyoko-neko

#werewolves #werewolf x reader #werewolf smut #werewolf #monster smut #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monsterlover #monster bf #monster fuqqer #monster kink #monster x human #smut

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glitterjay · 2 days

Note

can u do gynaecologist enha (whichever member u want) with patient reader?

ifnotitsokayiunderstandimjustobsessedwithyourwriting

Also can I be🦢anon?

⭒ gynecologist!sunghoon, fingering, head implied (f. receiving) , suggestive content minors dni

⭒ c's note: this is a new approach, and i've never been to a gynecologist before, so im sorry if it's bad ㅜㅜ welcome to the club, 🦢'anon! do let me know if you liked it or not

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @kissestoenha

you were quite nervous, to say the least, about visiting the gynecologist. you just wanted to get a checkup to make sure everything was right with your body, but since it was your first time, you were shy and embarrassed.

you had arrived at the place of your appointment just in time, walking straight into the doctor's office.

it took you by surprise to see a man. you had told yourself that a woman would be taking care of you, so you shouldn't be so embarrassed by this at all.

he noticed your shocked expression and asked you to take a seat by the desk, adjusting the glasses that were just about to fall off the tip of his nose. "you might have been expecting, dr. kim in here, but she had to go out. i'm dr. park, sunghoon park. there's no need to worry, i'll take good care of you."

his voice was deep yet soft, and it made butterflies appear in your tummy. you blushed, looking away from him and scanning the things adorning the room.

"i see that you came in just for a checkup. is it your first time?" you nodded, playing with your fingers as you looked down at them. the oen he was holding seemed to be from the college he attended and the year of his cohort. to your surprise, it was just a year before you graduated yourself.

"im gonna need you to lay in that bed over there for me, please."

you did as told, still fidgeting with your hands. he was getting ready for your check up, and he had to admit you looked very pretty.

"alright," he sat in front of the bed, and pulled out a robe. "there's a bathroom right over there. you can go change into this so your checkup can start."

sunghoon had started conversation so you could feel less nervous. you had find out he was indeed a year above you in college, and has been working ever since graduation. it was a small world, and you were glad you didn't know him until today, or else it would've been worse.

the latex gloves he's was wearing were close against your sensitive skin. it send shivers up your spine every time sunghoon moved and touched. it was until a small moan left your mouth that sunghoon noticed what his hands were causing.

it was as if an angel had ascended straight from heaven to sing. sunghoon's body count was big, but he had never heard such a beautiful and melodious voice before.

he glanced over at the door, making sure it was locked, and went straight to business.

his long index finger started gathering the juices that were leaving your body, his eyes gleaming at the sight before him. he didn't lose anything, right? after all, both of you would win something.

"your body is perfectly healthy," he said, his fingers trying to stuff back the juices making your cunt glow. was it weird what he was doing? probably, but it had this weird and addictive feeling growing within you, so you didn't tell him to stop.

sunghoon inserted his whole index finger, curling it up as soon as he could. this made your body jump a little, allowing him to hear another wonderful moan.

he kept fingering you for a while, adding more fingers as he went on. as soon as your walls started to clench around him, he stopped.

he lowered the chair he was sitting on, so now his face was right in front of your exposed heat. he was staring at it like a hungry man, and you blushed when he looked up at you through his glasses.

"it looks pretty," he said. "perfectly taken care of, and I bet it tastes amazing too."

#— ✿ c's work!#🦢'anon #enhypen #engene #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #kpop #hard hours #kpop smut #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon smut #park sunghoon #sunghoon #sunghoon smut

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leaentries · 20 hours

Text

let them eat cake | nico hischier

SUMMARY: when mrs.cap learns that cake can serve more than one purpose

WARNINGS: food play, slight boob worship, slight nipple play, oral (f. receiving), fingering, swearing, not proofread

WC: 2.97k

A/N: guess who’s back from the dead ! i hope you will take this nico fic as a form of apology for my lack of content recently !

the captain’s girl masterlist!

The familiar blaring of an alarm broke through the warm, golden atmosphere of the bedroom. Sunlight bounced amongst the beige walls, as the air slightly blew against them. Realizing Nico must have left the balcony door open, you managed to peel an eye open to gaze at the sleeping man beside you.

His chest rose and fell in deep breaths, signaling he was still locked in his restful slumber. You took a moment to admire the youthful lines of his shaven face, taking note of every mark he had. The straight swoop of his nose, or the curve of his eyebrows; you swore to commit them to memory. Your eyes trailed down to his neck, where his chain dangled loosely to the side. A sweet smile found home on your lips as you watched his nose scrunch slightly in his sleep.

However, your morning bliss was interrupted by Nico’s phone, which, once again, began to scream with that god-forsaken alarm.

Very carefully, you lifted your body onto your left arm, maneuvering yourself to grab his phone and hit the “stop” button. As it would be, you didn’t quite make it that far before collapsing halfway onto the sleeping boy.

Nico’s body jolted at the sudden weight, hands immediately going to hold your hip and the arm that now lay limp across his chest.

“Jesus, schatzi,” His voice rumbled with sleep, “What are you doing?”

You sheepishly grinned at him, “‘M sorry, Neeks. I was trying to turn off your alarm so it wouldn’t make you cranky this morning.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “Cranky? I’m never cranky in the mornings. I think you’ve got me confused with someone else, baby.”

“Ah, so you're not the guy who almost chucks his phone at the wall every morning because his alarm is so obnoxiously loud?”

Nico gave you a deadpan look.

You shrugged at him, “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Yeah, yeah” He quickly flipped you over, his heavy body now pressing into yours, “I’d be careful with what you say.”

His lips placed slow, hot kisses down your jaw, only stopping once he met your earlobe. He bit lightly, drawing a sharp gasp from you.

Nico’s voice came out in a rough whisper, “After all, I’m very cranky in the mornings.”

Nico removed himself from you, taking away the warmth of his thick muscle. Making his way to the bathroom, he gave you a quick wink and a smug smile. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to control the ache that now resided in your core.

“You suck, Hischier!”

Well, happy birthday to you.

While Nico took his time in the shower getting ready for the day, you took it upon yourself to start making a big breakfast for the two of you.

Although it was your birthday, you still wanted to do something sweet for the both of you to enjoy. You had been looking forward to sharing an intimate meal with him first thing in the morning. Yet, if you were being honest, you never cared to make a fuss over your birthday.

It just never occurred to you to care so much.

As you scraped the last bits of your breakfast out of the pan, you heard Nico’s heavy steps approaching the kitchen.

“Mmmm,” He sniffed the air with a dog-like fervor, “Something smells good.”

You nodded towards the two plates, that now sat full, on the island top. “I made us a big breakfast this morning. I thought it would be nice to spend some time together today. Especially since you’ve been busy with all the away games the past few weeks.”

Nico walked up behind you, hands circling your full waist with a squeeze.

“That sounds perfect, schatzi.”

Grabbing your hand, Nico helped you make your way into the high-top seat, carefully pushing you in before finding his way next to you. He gave you a quick peck, reaching to pull your legs to drape across his lap.

Your stomach argued with hunger, prompting you to finally satisfy your morning needs. You closed your eyes in bliss at the warm taste of your favorite breakfast. Ever since you were a child, you had this same meal every year. Yet, it never failed to bring back the same excitement and nostalgia as it did when you were little.

“Fuck,” Nico mumbled under his breath, “Don’t make that face, baby. It’s too early for me to be hard.”

You fluttered your eyes innocently, “I don’t know what you're talking about.”

However, you most certainly did. And the evidence was currently pressing into your calf.

A low groan escaped his mouth as you dragged your legs slowly from his lap. Grabbing the empty plates, you made a show of your hips in the short walk to the sink. Carefully placing them in the metal confinement, rough hands came to pull you back.

“Oh!” A squeal echoed into the kitchen as Nico walked your body back to the counter. His large fingers gripped your wrists, pinning them to the cabinet above you. Nico’s face dangled teasingly too far for your aching lips.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, schatzi.” He took his bottom lip between his teeth, “Swaying that pretty ass in my face.”

Nico shook his head in disapproval, “‘S not fair to me, baby.” His deep eyes only seemed to grow bigger, “Why are you being mean to me?”

You furrowed your brows in a pout, “‘M not being mean.”

“Oh yeah, you are.” He moved one of your hands back down to cup his heavy length straining against the fabric of his sweats. “Think just because you’re the birthday girl, you get to be a brat? Is that it?”

You huffed in annoyance. You should have known Nico wouldn’t give in to you so easily, even if it was your special day. Deciding to continue your ploy, you gave him your best puppy eyes, “No, Neeks.” You bit your lip, “I just want my favorite birthday present.”

Nico didn’t miss the way your eyes scanned his body, your orbs lingering on his throbbing erection. He could feel his resolve faltering at your sultry gaze, his body naturally leaning in to press against yours.

Although, just as Nico’s lips were about to finally slot on your awaiting ones, his phone blared loudly for the umpteenth time that morning. Nico’s forehead dropped to your shoulder in defeat.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He mumbled, “Gotta go to morning skate.”

Even though you knew he had to leave, you couldn’t help but feel slightly dejected. You nodded understandably, acknowledging his predicament.

Nico picked his head up, placing a sweet kiss on your cheek, “I promise, I’ll make it up to you when I get back, birthday girl.”

As soon as Nico had left and the remnants from breakfast had been cleaned up, you easily found yourself falling into a peaceful nap on the couch. Yet, as quickly as your eyes shut, they opened again at the feeling of warm lips trailing your shoulder.

“Wake up, schatzi,” Nico’s warm voice soothed your sleepy mind, “I brought you something.”

Intrigued, you lifted your head to meet his gaze.

‘Wha’dya bring?”

Nico’s mouth quirked up, “Come with me to the kitchen and find out.”

Giving in to the curiosity, you rose from the couch and followed your boyfriend into the homey room. You felt your breath stop for a moment at the lopsided cake that now sat center on your island. It wasn’t the prettiest or the most shapely, but you didn’t care. With the icing slightly running down the sides and the half-cut strawberries, it was perfect.

“You made me a cake?”

Nico shuffled bashfully, “Yeah, I tried to, at least. I-I know it’s not the best, but-” You cut him off before he could finish.

“It’s perfect, Neeks.” You looked at him with sparkling eyes, “Thank you.”

“Anything for my birthday girl.”

You turned back to admire the pink cake once more. Nico’s warm body came to lean against your back, his arms wrapping around to cage you in. You watched as his right hand moved to swipe some of the fluffy icing from the side onto his finger.

“Open up, baby.”

You obliged gratefully, taking in his sugar-covered digit. You swirled your tongue to gather as much of the sweetness as possible, sucking lightly.

“Fuck..” Nico’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

You could feel his hardening length pressed snuggly against your cheeks, taking the opportunity to tease him a bit. Jutting your hips backward, Nico groaned at the pressure. He pulled his finger from your mouth, a trail of saliva still attached. His hand moved to grasp onto your heavy breast through the material of your t-shirt.

Nico’s fingers danced across your peaked nipple, before quickly turning your body in place. He swiped another bit of the icing, letting your mouth eagerly accept his offer. His eyes grew with dark lust at the sight. Nico’s cock twitched with desire at the feeling of your tongue.

He removed his finger suddenly, drawing a whine from your lips. However, you were quickly cut off by Nico grabbing your thighs to hoist you onto the countertop. The cool sensation of the marble ignites goosebumps all over your skin. His mouth immediately found your neck, trailing sloppy kisses down the supple skin. His hands toyed with the hem of your t-shirt, before managing to discard it completely.

“Look at these, baby” His eyes were glued to your breasts, “Been thinking about my girls all day. Always sit so pretty for me.”

His fingers were cold as they grazed over your bare nipples. Nico didn’t waste any time as he lowered his mouth to take one into his mouth. You bit your lip to suppress a squeal. His teeth bit the pebbled bud lightly, sending shocks of pleasure to your core. You leaned your head back as a whine echoed into the kitchen.

“Mmm, fuck,” You panted with arousal, “Missed this so much.”

Nico raised a brow, “Yeah?” He mumbled as he took in the other nipple, “Missed me sucking on these gorgeous tits?”

His accent grew thicker as the pure need for you flooded his senses. Your body felt like it was on fire with each lick and suck Nico gave to your swollen breasts. You could have sworn you’d cum from just that alone.

Nico pulled up, his own chest heaving with desire while he ripped off his shirt. As if a lightbulb went off in his mind, his lips grew into a wicked grin. He gripped the backs of your legs, yanking you forward on the counter. You sucked in a breath, undeniably hot and bothered by his manhandling. Nico kept his hand on your leg, while he reached to pull the platter of cake closer to the both of you.

You watched him quizzically as he, once again, dipped his first two fingers into the icing. Nico looked back at you, smirking at your questioning face. He answered with a sly wink, before smearing the icing down the length of your chest and abdomen.

“Nico!” You exclaimed with a laugh, “What the hell?”

“It’s okay, schatzi. I’ll clean you up.” He gave you another smirk, before bending down to trail his tongue along the stripe of frosting. “Always taste so sweet.”

He took his time, making sure not a single bit of the sticky substance was left. The air ran cool against your skin as Nico’s tongue traveled further down your body. You found yourself panting with arousal. He pushed your shoulder slightly as he signaled you to lay back.

You gasped, back arching against the cold countertop. He took the time while you adjusted to the temperature to rub some more icing along the insides of your thighs. Your legs parted subconsciously, letting Nico slot his body in between them.

A whimper escaped into the air as you felt his warm muscle flex against the plush fat of your thigh. He ran his tounge teasingly closer to your throbbing core, but only to trail it back down. Your chest heaved with anticipation, the tension overbearing, and raising a sheen layer of sweat over your skin as he continued his mistrations around where you needed him most.

Determined to have you begging, Nico pulled away completely. Watching your flushed breasts rise and fall at the pace of your rapid breathing. He had to suppress a groan at the sight of your perked nipples still covered in his spit. His eyes met yours as you looked at him desperately.

“Nico,” You whined, “Why’d you stop?”

He smirked at you, “I want you to beg for it, schatzi.”

A fire lit inside of your stomach at the authority in his tone, yet you couldn’t help the bubble of stubbornness that arose with it.

“Why should I?” You inquired, propping yourself up onto your elbows, “I mean, it is my birthday. Don’t I deserve a present?”

Nico almost smiled at your rebuttal, but he also needed to make sure you knew who was in charge. He leaned forward, his rigid abdomen pressing into your soft one. His mouth latched onto your nipples one more, this time sucking harshly.

You cried out through the mixture of pain and pleasure, your slick practically dripping onto the counter by now. Your hands moved to grip his shoulder roughly, your nails leaving angry red marks in response. Nico only pulled away once he heard your needy cries and felt the way your hips bucked up into him.

“Ready to stop being a brat?”

Normally, you’d put up more of a fight, but with Nico’s relentless teasing all day, the thrumming need that pounded through every vein in your body had you complying with his wants.

“Yes,” You breathed, “Please, Neeks.” Your body began to squirm as he dragged his clothed cock along the wetness pooling from your cunt, “Fuck, please do something.”

His head tilted at you, hips still moving torturously slow, “But I am doing something, baby.”

Your head fell haphazardly against the cool marble, an exasperated sigh leaving your throat. It was agonizing what he was doing to you, and he knew it.

All you heard was a low chuckle before you felt Nico’s body lower and the sound of his knees thumping down against the hardwoods. Your eyes fluttered closed as Nico’s lips began to leave light kisses closer and closer to your clit.

Nico’s right arm moved across your leg to gather some more icing before prodding at your closed mouth. Right as you opened to accept his fingers, Nico plunged his tongue deep into your soaked hole.

Your body convulsed at the sensory overload. You felt your eyes roll back as the sweet strawberry cascaded over your taste buds and the surging pleasure Nico provided pulsed through your core. You swirled your tongue around his fingers, determined not to leave a single bit of the treat left.

Nico’s fingers fell from your mouth as you moaned almost pornographically at the intense sensation of him lapping at your velvet walls. His nose nudged against your clit with every pass he made, causing the onset of your orgasm to show its head. Your hands tangled themselves into his thick hair, tugging in an attempt to ground yourself further onto his face.

Nico moaned against your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves up every limb. Your body felt as if it was floating, tingling with the utmost euphoric sensations. That familiar burning only increased as Nico replaced his tongue with two fingers. He plunged them brutally, not bothering to start slow.

“Fuck!” You cried as your back arched off the counter.

Nico’s mouth sucked skillfully on your clit, drawing fast circles. You could feel your climax approaching impossibly fast, your cunt beginning to spasm around your boyfriend’s fingers.

“Close already, schatzi?” He mumbled against you.

You nodded helplessly, overwhelmed by the searing pleasure in your lower stomach. You could feel the blood pounding in your ears as you were hit with one of the most intense orgasms you’d ever had. Your hips bucked against Nico as he continued his abuse through the duration of your high.

Your mind felt like it was spinning, the weight of your climax taking the breath from your lungs. Your vision went white as your eyes clenched shut. Nico’s finger slowed to a stop, his mouth now leaving gentle kisses to the side of your knee where he rested his head. Your jaw fell slightly, lungs burning from the lack of air.

All you could feel was Nico carefully removing his fingers, and the weight of his body moving to now stand. His warm hands caressed your hips soothingly, coaxing you back to reality.

“Come back to me, pretty girl.”

You eventually managed to peel open your lids, eyes clouded with dreariness.

“There’s those pretty eyes,” Nico smiled lovingly at your fucked out state, “Let’s go take a quick shower. You’re all sticky from the icing.”

A laugh bubbled up, “Yeah?” You started at him accusingly, “And whose fault is that?”

Nico just rolled his eyes at your attitude, helping you off the counter and into the bathroom.

Once you were situated under the scolding water, Nico slid in behind you, arms wrapping around to pull you into his front.

“Today is my favorite day of the year,” Nico stated.

You lifted your head from his chest, looking at him questioningly, “Why?”

“Because it’s the day you were born.”

You felt your cheeks go red, a bashful smile turning up on your lips. You shoved your face back into his toned chest, hiding away from his gaze.

“Neeks,” You whined with embarrassment.

Nico just laughed, placing a kiss on the top of your head, “Happy birthday, schatzi.”

#nico hischier #the captain’s girl au!#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier smut #nh13 #new jersey devils #njd #lea writes stuff ♡

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belovedcloud · 2 days

Note

Your writing is so good! If it's not too much trouble, can you write soft loving sex with Las Plagas Leon or any of your favorite Leon's?

Crave | Las Plagas! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

✎ Notes: I hope you like this, I was thinking about Las Plagas Leon and him being possessive of you in a cuddly way when he comes back from saving Ashley. Sorry that it's short, I have a lot going on for me atm!

➤ WC: 1.55K

➤ CW: Porn with barely any plot, possessive Leon, Leon sucking and appreciating your tits (he's definitely a boob guy), Pet names: sweetheart, baby, my love. P in V (unprotected sex), creampie, fingering & rubbing.

Days passed, worry flooded all over your body as you wondered where your boyfriend was. Although you knew this mission was important in many ways than one - Leon never deserved to be forced into working for the government. However, you couldn't help him in any way but care for him when he came home. Tonight would be different, the Leon that returned wouldn't be the one you knew.

You snuggled yourself onto your couch, the only sounds ringing in your ears was the sound of the wall clock ticking each second. 02:41 AM. Your eyes wouldn't bring themselves to sleep, the constant ideas of what Leon was doing made you shiver in fear. His mission was laced in pure secrecy, nobody but him and the government knew what he was doing. Suddenly, the thoughts in your mind were quickly shut off as you heard keys jingle, a familiar figure yanking them out as he opened the door. He was home. You rapidly lifted yourself up, fumbling the blanket in your hands as your eyes gazed upon Leon. He seemed different. Low groans sporadically came out of his mouth as he threw his duffel bag against the wall, Leon's eyes averted to you. Without hesitation he approached you, wrapping his arms around you. "I missed you... Fuck, you smell good." The feeling of his voice rumbled against the skin of your neck as he nuzzled his head into it. "L-Leon, you should really go rest." A small mewl erupted out of your throat as you slowly caressed his arm, staring upon it. Why was black liquid flowing through his veins?

You tried to pull his head away from your neck, but to no avail. He calmly sucked onto your skin, holding you gently. Leon fought off the feeling of something telling him to lose control, he wanted to make love to you. To caress you in ways where the softest moans would be elicited out of you. Subconsciously, his arms lifted you up for the ground, pulling his face away from your neck. This time, you could focus on the cuts and fresh scars that illustrated all over his face. The dark veins protruding out as he took you upstairs. "Leon? What is up with you?" Your soft voice echoed through his brain, oh how he loved you. How he loved you soft skin against his, the roughness of his own pressing against yours. "What do you mean my love?" His coarse voice juxtaposed his mellow actions towards you, gently placing you down on the shared bed. He stared at your figure with such lust and adoration apparent in his eyes, the way his shirt hugged your curves just right. Your shorts pressing into your plush skin as the movement of his hands slowly crept onto your thighs. Rubbing them tenderly as he gave you a small smile.

"What do you mean? I mean... Look at you. You've got some pattern on your skin." You whispered out as his touch infected you with a burning feeling. An ache pulsing where you needed to be touch - how his hands were so close to your sensitive clit. Was this right? You didn't even know if you knew the man in front of you. Of course it was Leon, your lover, was it really him? "Don't worry about me baby, look at how gorgeous you are." He purred out, slowly lifting up his shirt to see your tits. God, they were perfect. He couldn't help but remove his own shirt, feeling hot in his own skin. Seeing your body was a fuel that he never knew he needed, his veins becoming more prominent in his skin. Spreading all over him, your face still in constant worry. Leon didn't like that. He didn't like that you worried for him, when he felt perfectly fine right? He knew he wasn't okay, the voices still in his head and flashbacks to when he previously just saved Ashley. The government would find some type of cure for him, surely right?

The pads of his fingers fondled with your nipples, his mouth enclosing on one of them as he looked up to see your blissful face. Light moans escaping your throat as your fingers laced themselves into his hair strands - tugging on them just slightly. Leon groaned into your tits, feeling himself jerk into the soft bed you both laid on. He craved you. Your body craved him too as a wet patch formed on your panties, the baby blue colour turning dark as your slick clung on it. Leon's hands moved methodically all over your body, caressing parts that needed him for so long. Until moving them to tug under the waistband of your shorts. "Can I?" He begged, his eyes pleading for you to say yes. A quiet mumble fell out of your lips as you granted him permission to see you. To see that pretty pussy he missed so much. A bite of your lip nearly drove Leon over the edge as he touched the wet spot on your panties. He could smell the sweetness of your pussy calling out to him. Without a thought, he pulled them off.

"L-Leon!" You yelped as you felt his fingers slowly slide into you. "Need to get you ready baby, want to make you feel good with my cock." The squelches of your cunt taking two of his fingers muffled his sentence as he watched them go in and out. A slight curve to his movement causing a loud whine to flood out of your mouth. You could feel yourself starting to gush onto him, needing more of his touch. Leon's other hand interlaced with yours, a sweet look on his face of appreciation as he watched you moan his name out. He was so in love with you. This new profound feeling in him, made him feel different from any other time he was having sex with you. You were his, his craving. A familiar feeling bubbled up in your chest as you felt the pad of his thumb rub on your little clit. "O-oh Leon..." A mellow moan left you as you shook in his touch, your orgasm gushing out. "That's my good girl... Yeah, cum on my fingers." His praises inundated you. You desired this, as much as he desired you.

Leon made quick work of his pants as he unbuckled his belt, removing the cargos that he used in his rampage in Spain. A wet spot standing out on his boxers where his tip leaked out it's pre-cum. Your eyes followed his hand as he pulled his cock out, it was beaming a harsh pink colour. Impulsively, you sat up and reached out for it. A gasp hushed out Leon's lips as he moaned into his hand, feeling your hand rub his hard cock. "Fuck... Baby please I can't do this anymore." A soft smile appeared on your face as he took it into his own hands, positioning himself in front of your entrance. A slow but steady thrust left you both panting as he rutted himself into you.

"Oh my.. fuck, you feel so good sweetheart." Leon whimpered out as he placed his hands on your hips, staring into your eyes as his thighs tapped against yours. He didn't want to fuck you, he wanted to make love. You were his pretty girl, the one he loved so dear and if it meant holding back his own urges for your pleasure, he would do it in a heartbeat. The eye contact shared between you and Leon made you shy; you covered your face, just to have your hands softly removed by your lovers. "Let me see you.. please you're so pretty like this." His lips pressed against yours, moans rung out between the both of you. Creating a melody filled with raw passion as his thrusts became deeper. Your eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy as yourself shake.

"H-Honey.." you whimpered as your hands scrunched the sheets beneath you. The soft cotton rubbing against you as Leon admired your body. His fingers found their way to your clit again as he started to rub it. "Cum on my cock, cum f'me." His voice turned raspy as his dick throbbed inside of you. The pitch of your moans heightened as you felt a sensation that burned so good, the coil in you snapping as your orgasm rushed over you. Making you chant Leon's name as he felt his thighs starting to shake from pure pleasure. Leon watched his dick move in and out of you, a sheer film of sweat forming on his forehead as he felt his release coming. "Fuck baby, I'm gonna cum. Need to fill this tight pussy up." His head fell back, the strands of his hair sticking to his forehead, the black veins spread all over his body as his load filled you up. A warm feeling loaded into you as he slid his cock out. Seeing some of his cum drip out of you with a silly grin on his face.

"We need to get you checked up Leon.." You mumbled, tracing a dark line down his face. "Tomorrow sweetheart.. Let me hold you." A gentle smile formed on his face as he stared at your blissed out body.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil smut

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torialefay · 3 days

Note

dear tori, do you have a minute to talk about our lord and savior christopher bang, and more specifically these videos from the met gala?

https://twitter.com/backsdoors/status/1787611418755285267?t=XkWEPIdkxCvncRqTISp_3A&s=19

https://twitter.com/backsdoors/status/1787621386053189754?s=19

thank you for your time.

—🧸

hi 🧸 anon!!!! i hadn't seen that second link you sent me and oh my god 😭😭😭😭

here's the thing: i am delusional. and all of these clips make me think about what it would be like to be chan's girlfriend at the met.

you're in the crowd at the met waiting nervously for all of the kids to arrive. and when they do, you feel like the proudest parent in the world. they way they look and behave is giving you the biggest sense of fulfilment. they all look scared shitless, but a proud mom moment nonetheless.

and then, you look over and finally lock in on your boyfriend. how fucking beautiful he is. his cape falling off of his body to reveal a suit that had been tailored just for him. his big, broad shoulders highlighted along the line of the jacket.

and the way that he'd secure his jacket inward to make sure it looked perfect. he knew he had to be perfect tonight with so many eyes on him.

and you'd watch in awe as they did what they do best. charming everyone. your group of boys, now looking like grown men. you couldn't contain yourself. before you knew it, tears were starting to well up in your eyes as you smiled and covered your mouth. this was all just too perfect.

when you'd focused in on your boyfriend again, that's when you really lost it. you couldn't believe he'd made it here. your fucking man. at the met gala. the shine in his eyes looked like it was made for him. and everything about him was made for you.

as you started releasing a few tears, you couldn't help to yourself but mouth the words "my baby" while looking in awe. grasping your hands to your chest, you took deep breaths, admiring him for all he was. "so perfect," you'd mouth again.

you watched again as the boys went up the stairs for their interviews. although you couldn't hear them, you were sure that they were doing great. chan was holding the mic the entire time, and your heart raced, looking at the emotions going across his face to clue you in to what they were talking about. others may not be able to notice, but you knew that he was nervous. he showed it in his own, hidden way. your perfect boyfriend.

your eyes would continue to follow as they finished their interviews. you could see the relief on chan's face once he realized that the hard part was over with. he was so excited and so giddy to know that he could now freely enjoy himself for the rest of the night. he'd gotten through it, and he'd done a good job. while waiting to go into the museum, he looked out to see if he could find you. he craned his neck in all directions and squinted harshly until he could make out your face. you smiled as hard as you could, waving and giving him small excited fist bumps into the air. he perked right up, following your moves.

when they were about to enter the huge building, a panicked look came over chan's face as he was told that they needed to do something with the members' phones. they only had a couple of staff near them, but they offered to take care of it. while the members handed chan all of the phones, he was struggling to hold him in his two hands. instinctually, chan turned his body around to find you in the crowd, motioning for you to come up and take the phones for him. he knew you'd keep them safe in your purse.

a bit embarrassed, you knew that this is what it meant to be the mom and dad of stray kids. always having to take care of the kids. trying to draw the absolute least amount of attention, you shimmied up the stairs and to the boys waiting patiently.

you threw your hands out, almost in a panic, to retrieve the phones so that the boys could get back on schedule. you placed each one quickly in your purse before zipping it up and resting it snug to your hip.

"thank you baby," chan huffed out, a sigh of relief on his face.

you'd fully expected to grab the phones and dash, but instead, chris pulled you in for a quick peck on the lips to say thank you. you blushed incessantly as you pulled away, locking your eyes on his. for one fleeting moment, it was just you and him.

you had to break the eye contact to quickly get back downstairs. you told the boys they did great and to have a fun time. that you'd be waiting with their phones as soon as they were done.

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

the next day would be filled with photos of you at the gala. a quick snap of your kiss with chan of course. and a shot of you "to the rescue" and taking up the phones. but there was a video you didn't expect as well. in the crowd, you could be seen with your big watery eyes, mouthing the phrase "my baby... so perfect" while you stared with so much love at chris.

comment after comment was speaking your praises. captions like "if my future partner isn't like this, i don't want them" and "literal goals. they are so in love." ... and they weren't wrong.

you'd be dubbed as the "mom and dad" of kpop. everyone would be able to see AND feel the love you'd have with your little stray kids family. and to be honest, even the members themselves saw you that way too.

#bangchan soft thoughts #bangchan scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #bangchan imagines #bang chan #bangchan x reader #bangchan x female reader #bangchan x you #bangchan stray kids #stray kids #skz scenarios #stray kids met gala #skz met gala #bangchan met gala #christopher bang

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flamingpudding · 1 day

Note

All right you got my creative juices running with part five of Klarion is Dan yes the first series I ever came to you with

To find him Klarion isn't the only one living in the DC dimension in like the word of protective mother Danny is he sent one of clarion's older siblings to go with him Larsal/Lassie

She was one of the clone children that was created long before Danny knew that was trying to clone him she was one of the first failures

She doesn't really have a physical form as much she is more of like a big pit of water that has like a spiritual like form like Dr Fate

She hates Vlad so much that the entire League of assassins who's also hit him even though they don't know who he is but know that Danny got from Clockwork was about her and visiting

Klarion knows about the quote as the same thing last knows about him being a villain they keep each other secrets cuz they know they make Mom disappointed

When they do have somewhat of a physical form it's a cowgirl with a horse made entirely of Lazarus Pits

Along with that Vlad making surprise visit after feeling someone's littering his name more than usual it's like a call about anytime he knows his children or Daniel is talking about him

Also Batman's freaking out after I think that one of Danny's kids is such a little hater that they made a cult just despite their father which makes the Justice League think Vlad really that bad

This is just the funny idea and I know it's not a good prompt I'm still trying to think of more sorry

Oh I love this! Thanks you!

This is going to be fun in a way I hope! Enjoy~

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

Danny barely avoided getting questioned further about his relation to Vlad when he noticed the green post-it note and made a grab for it. "Oh would you look at that! Pop is sending us a message!"

Okay maybe he said that louder than necessary but he needed to change the topic. He didn't need more people on to torment the fruitloop. His own kids were already giving the man enough grief as it was. He didn't need distant cousins or an entire hero society of another dimension coming after the fruitloop too. Not that he would mind that much but some mercy towards the redeemed man would probably be appropriated.

Either way Danny focused his attention on the note only half heartedly listening as Klarion continued his family tree explanation to his little hero friends. He blinked at the note several times before laughing happily. "Would you look at that! Lassie is going to come by! Your Granpa Clock is giving us a heads up, so I can prepare a fresh batch of ectoplasm for her to stay healthy!"

Whatever Klarion was explaining right now was abandoned as he sat up straight. "Lassie is coming too?"

"Well of course she is." Danny hummed happily, thankful for the chance of seeing both his kids that liked to life in the same dimension.

"Lassie?" Red Robin piped up questioning. Oh looks like this is one of Klarions siblings they hadn't gotten to yet regarding explanations.

"Yes my fourth oldest but unofficial second oldest." Danny nodded with a proud mother smile on his face. "She lives in this dimension too to keep an eye on Klarion so he would stay safe and dosen't over do it."

Klarion on the other hand groaned. "I don't need Lassie to baby sit me!"

"Klarion, sweety you were new to the whole living alone in another dimension thing. You spent the longest in FarFrozen and the Ghost Zone with me because of your destabilisation." Danny reprimanded him softly and the teen heroes snickered behind Klarions back to which the witch boy turned to glare at them with a greenish blush across his cheeks.

"So what does that sister of yours look like?" Impulse asked to change the topic and because he took a bit of pity on Klarion for the way his Mom was apparently embarrassing the witch boy. His question resulted in Klarion flipping though the photo album before stopping at an image of Klarion next to a pit of green something. Impulse arched an eyebrow and was about to comment when he got pushed roughly to the side by Red Robin.

"THAT'S A LAZARUS PIT!"

The way Batman's chair clattered to the ground as the man stood up looked every bit like he was going to rush over to the teens spoke for the shock that Red Robin shout had caused. The Ghost King and Klarion on the other hand looked rather calm as they barely reacted to the shout and Danny even motioned to Batman to sit back down again, as the chair that fell rightened itself again.

"Calm down. Lassie is a good child. She wouldn't hurt a fly." Danny told them smiling, not realising that both Batman and Red Robin were giving him increadulous looks behind their mask.

"A.... good child?" Batman repeated his slowly his voice even more tinged with his usual gruff gravel in a way that both Superman and Wonder Woman side eyed him worried while Flash snacked on a pack of melon flavoured ships he snacked from a table.

"She doesn't have a physical body, that is why she is relying on the pits of natural ectoplasm your dimension has. There was a little problem with her physical form and we just couldn't restore it and she refuses to get a unoccupied clone body like Klarion has." Danny explained further not minding the stares he or Klarion were getting.

"Pits of natural ectoplasm?" Batman reiterated, his tone clearly questioning, to which Danny only blinked a couple of times surprised. "I thought your dimension knew what they were? Sure the way you guys use them is strange and Lassie did sound a bit concerned when she told me about it but I didn't think you guys weren't aware what they were."

"No that is not...." Red Robin started but then but himself of as he turned around hurriedly in a defensive position as he noticed someone coming in through the window. He wasn't the only one. All the heroes reacted as one at the new presence, however what they didn't expect was a member of the League of Assassins blinking up at them stunned after climbing in through the window lifting their hands palm up in a gesture of peace.

"Woah hey there calm down! Klarion what the fuck? Why are there so many heroes in your Apartment?" The LoA member spoke up and all eyes turned to Klarion who instead only deadpanned. "I told you Mom was visiting to meet my 'friends'"

"Lassie, what did I tell you about possessing bodies?" The Ghost King piped up in a disapproving tone and they heard the distinctive tone of someone knocking their head against the table, probably Constantine.

"Sorry Mom but there are not Pits of ectoplasm near baby brother I could use to form a body." The LoA member, apparently possessed by Klarion's elder sister replied sheepishly. To say Red Robin was weirded out was an understatement. Usually if he encountered LoA members they were aggressive and most likely there to take him or one of his siblings out.

"That's an League of Assasin member...." He muttered under his breath to which said member laughed. "This guy was the closest to me to use for the moment. Don't worry I will release him later and he won't even remember a thing. I got my little sheep's well trained."

"Little sheep's?" Wonder Girl repeated a hand on her hip as she stared sceptically, to which Klarion face palmed and muttered a low "Sis shut up...."

"No Lassie, don't shut up." Danny intone from the kitchen table he was still sitting at with the other adults, his head was now resting on his hand as he stared at his two kids who visibly flinched.

The LoA member, possessed by Klarions sister, scratched the back of is head nervously as they faced the Ghost King. "Ah Mom, uhm hehe you know funny story..."

The heroes were pretty sure that the room had gotten several degrees colder and they weren't sure if that was because of the mood of a parent about to interrogate their child or because of the Ghost Kings power. (At a later time Constantine swore it were the Ghost Kings powers.) There was a awkward moment of silence the heroes weren't sure if they should be present for that or not especially when Danny stood up and walked over to the teens.

On reflex Wonder Girl, Superboy, Impulse and Red Robin made room for Danny to walk past them as they watched on torn between curiosity and pity, because clearly Klarion and his sister Lassie must have done something they weren't supposed to do. And honestly they were more curious what they did, after all the Ghost King hadn't been that faced when it got revealed that Klarion was more of a Villain than a Hero to them.

"Lassie, what did you do?" The teen heroes couldn't see Danny's face but from the tone they had a feeling that Danny was arching an eyebrow at his children.

Lassie laughed awkwardly once more. "So... you know how grandma Pandora kind of thought us about how our own emotion can influence those around us exposed to our ectoplasm over a long period of time?"

"Lassie..."

"I might have raised something akin to a cult on accident and passed on my personal grudge and hate towards the fruitloop along to them and they might now have the subconscious drill of attack on sight if Vlad ever makes an appearance in this dimension...." The LoA member slowly spoke up which had several of the adult heroes blinking in disbelief.

Batman especially was in shock of hearing about this since had the most interaction with this 'cult' as apparently one of the Ghost Kings children liked to call the League of Assassins. The bat suit wearing hero was about to interject and ask more but stopped when the Ghost King let out a suffering sigh like the most tired parent in existence. "And you didn't think about telling me this sooner because?"

"We don't like to disappoint you Mom." The two children of the Ghost King replied simultaneously like one united front. Danny in response gave his kids a light chuckle. But before Danny could go on any further Red Robin decided it was probably a good time to interject and remind the Ghost King of their presence.

"I got a question if you don't mind..." He lifted his hand like he was in school as he pulled the attention towards him. His curiosity won over his caution of the situation. "Klarion if the Lazarus Pits are actually 'ectoplasm' as you mentioned before, and are largely influenced by your sisters emotion. What happens to guy that bath regularly in them or someone that got thrown in there and game back out rage filled?"

"Red Robin!" Batman call out reprimanding instantly knowing where Red Robins line of question was going.

The possessed LoA member on the other hand blinked at them before scratching their head sheepishly. "I think I know who your talking about. I am still sorry about that second guy. When he got dunked into my ectoplasm, I kinda just came back from a visit home and had a bad fight with Vlad and was especially rage filled towards him."

"So does that mean...?" Red Robin inquired further ignoring Batman's silent glare towards him for even bringing these questions up and just as Lassie was about to answer Danny interjected.

"Lassie, go fix your cult." Another green note at materialised out of nowhere and had fluttered in the air before him and caused the Ghost King to face palm the moment he read it's context.

"Mom?" Both Klarion and Lassie asked with a shared worried glance.

"Vlad has come into the dimension for some reasons and is currently getting chased down by your cult."

There was a stunned silence after which Klarion and Lassie, in the body of the LoA member, broke out laughing hysterically which only caused Danny to lightly glare at his children. Meanwhile the teen heroes weren't sure if they should feel sorry for the old man called Vlad but considering all the red flags they had picked up from what Klarion told them, they felt a little like the man deserved that.

The adults on the other hand felt slightly torn, well mostly Batman. It was clear that this Vlad was a bigger threat than both Klarion and the Ghost King were making him out to be, considering the entire existence of the Lazarus Pits hated that man. But on the other hand as heroes they probably should feel obligated to help the man especially if, according to the Ghost Kings words, he was currently gotten chased in their dimension by the League of Assassins.

Danny on the other hand never felt more like a tired mother than he did right now. Sure he knew about his unofficial second oldest hatred towards Vlad but this certainly was a new level of hate. Especially since she apparently 'accidentally' (he doesn't by that at all) raised an entire cult that subconsciously hated him too.

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bettyfrommars · 3 days

Text

I'm on Fire: The Epilogue

biker!Eddie x artist!Reader

biker!Steve x Astrid (fem!OC)

masterlist playlist

wc: 14.6k

18+ONLY as always, adult themes, allusions to smut, backyard union/wedding, violence, auto theft, hustling, fist fight, mention of blood, mention of guns and shooting, relationship issues, Eddie is a cat dad, tw: Charlene, alcohol consumption, healing, lots of love.

Summary: If you're one of my ride or dies who have read this far, you know what to expect, but I do mention pregnancy and kids more than a few times, for good reason. We get to check in with what the gang has been up to, and how the families have grown. A little bit of drama, of course, and Coffin Kings mayhem. For the sake of this story, the character Bones is meant to be Tom Hardy from the yet to be released movie The Bikeriders.

A/N: This is reallyyy more of another chapter more and an Epilogue, lmaoo. I love all of these characters so much that I keep wanting to spin off in different directions and write a bunch of niche stories; I can see myself living in this world for a long while. I know I say it all the time, but my IoF readers mean so much to me, and I really hope you enjoy this. Please see a second author's note at the end.

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Highway 22 had once been the only main road out of town, but since the freeway came to Hawkins in the 60’s, very few ever took the country road lined with cornfields and alfalfa crops. There were several homesteads scattered about, mostly farmers, and all of them spaced out by several acres; but for the home of the Whittiers—Bob and Helen—who just happened to live across the street from the place once owned by the Fergusons.

The first time they heard the rumble of motorcycles approaching, Helen screamed through the living room that it must be an airplane flying too low, about to crash into them. She nudged Bob awake from his nap in the recliner and then ran out onto the porch, wringing her hands.

What she found was a motorcycle gang, clad in leather and covered in tattoos, crawling twenty deep into the driveway of their newest neighbors.

It was rare for Eddie to invite the entire local Coffin Kings MC and a few of the Hells Belles over, but the ceremony for Steve and Astrid’s union was an exception. She was 8 months pregnant with the twins at the time, bursting at the seams, but Steve had this bug up his ass that he needed them to be official before the babies came, and Bones was happy to officiate.

Under an arbor in the neatly manicured lawn of your front yard, flanked in willow trees and cherry blossoms, Robin stood as Steve’s best man, and pretended like she’d lost the ring during the ceremony when he asked for it. The panic in his face made everyone in attendance snicker when she pulled it from the tiny pocket of her vest with a wink. Steve wore black suit pants with a collared white shirt, rolled up to the elbows, under his Coffin Kings leather. Astrid looked stunning in a hunter green, off-the-shoulder dress with a few pieces of simple, gold jewelry, and a baby’s breath flower crown in her hair.

Astrid didn’t need a ring, or any traditional symbols, and the material stuff meant nothing to her, but Steve insisted. He took the extra step of getting her name tattooed on his ring finger, which made her roll her eyes and fall more in love with him all at once.

You stood at Astrid’s side, making eyes at your boyfriend Eddie who was extremely handsome in his leather and a suit in the front row. You were still reeling at the idea that this was your life, as fear kept trying to creep in and tell you it was all a dream, or that something would happen at any second to take it all away at any moment.

You’d barely had the keys to the farmhouse for two months before the wedding, and so things were still stacked in boxes on the main floor, and the plumbing was a mess, but every morning, Eddie kissed you goodbye before work, and then you padded over in bare feet to the empty space with south facing windows that would soon be your studio.

Wayne gave Astrid away, and there were tears streaming down Steve’s cheeks. Once the official “I do’s” were said, everyone, including the bikers and their families in attendance, started to hoot and whistle for the kiss. Steve held her face in his hands, and it was deep and sweet and made the obnoxious howling from the crowd melt into a collective swoon before erupting in applause.

Eddie’s heart swelled with love, not only for his friends who were finally getting the happy ending they deserved, but for you, and the promise of the life you were building together. Neither one of you held the matrimonial traditions of society in high regard and didn’t need a piece of paper to prove that you were devoted to each other, but right then, watching you stand with Astrid, he thought about dropping to one knee and begging you to be his wife.

Neither one of you had a family history of marriage keeping people together, in fact, it had mostly only succeeded in fucking everything up. In his heart, it was till death do you part, and that was all that mattered. In fact, he planned on finding you in the afterlife as well.

Steve had Oliver on his shoulders while they cut the cake, but what everyone didn’t know was that Astrid was fighting some stomach cramping. She figured it was the two babies kicking from all of the excitement, but the second the music started for the reception, her water broke.

“This can’t be happening right now,” Steve was flabbergasted, holding up his wife so that she didn’t sink to the ground. “They’re not due for another month?”

“Oh it’s happening,” Astrid gushed, framing her belly with her hands. “They are coming.”

“Take my car,” Katie offered, digging around in her purse for her keys. The driveway was full of vehicles, pinning in Astrid’s truck, but Katie’s car was further out, near the highway.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Eddie shouted, reaching for your hand.

Dustin was the voice of reason, stepping in front of him while the others headed for the vehicle.

“She could be in labor for hours, and you’ve got guests,” Henderson reminded his friend. He was there with his wife Suzie and their daughter Stevie. “I say stay here, man. Robin can call you from the hospital with an update.”

For a second, it had slipped both of your minds that you even had guests; approximately 87 of them.

The big speakers Eddie had hooked up to a sound system were playing Hold onto Me by Cowboy Junkies, and the two of you turned to stare at each other, wondering what to do.

“Dustin’s right,” you looked around, eyes settling on your ex-coworker Jeff who was drinking red wine straight from the bottle. “I don’t want anyone to puke in our bedroom or something.”

Suzie handed you a glass of champagne, ring finger heavy with a Princess cut diamond. “I promise you, those babies probably won’t poke their heads out until morning.”

You just hoped nothing went wrong, since Astrid confided in you that labor had been notoriously hard on the women in her family; there had even been a few mothers who didn’t make it. What if they needed to do an emergency C-section? What if one of them started to come out sideways?

You were about to take a sip of the sweet bubbles when you saw Steve jogging back in your direction.

“Katie’s car is dead,” he huffed, headed for the back patio where his Harley was parked.

Craning your neck down the long row of cars, you saw Astrid sitting on the front bumper of the dark blue sedan with Oliver holding onto her arm while Robin and Katie appeared to be having an argument. You were sure it was nothing personal, but tensions were high.

“Hold tight, let me grab the jumper cables,” Eddie jogged alongside Steve, aiming for the garage.

“Nah, it’ll take too long, we need to get out of here,” Steve was throwing a leg over his bike and revving the engine before Eddie could offer another suggestion.

You ran up beside Eddie. “He’s driving her to the hospital on that?”

“It appears that way,” Eddie stepped back so that Steve could roll by the two of you, fishtailing through the lawn before jumping a rock bed and weaving between the vehicles to pick up Astrid.

A lot of pregnant women might have hesitated to go by motorcycle, but Astrid did not. She didn’t hesitate to get on behind him, knowing that the sooner they got to the hospital, the less likely things would go wrong. Making room for her ample stomach took a moment of adjusting, but she strapped her helmet on before tapping his shoulder to let him know she was ready.

“You’re insane!” Robin shouted at him, and then she covered her face in frustration.

Bones, Devlin, Van, Ratchet, and a few others went along as escorts, clearing the highway with their own bikes so that Steve could have the road.

Across the street, Helen was on her porch with a pair of binoculars. “Bob? Where are they taking that pregnant woman?”

Bob was in the living room with the TV on, and he pretended not to hear her.

“The music is loud enough,” she scoffed. “The whole thing better quiet down by 10 or I’m calling the police.”

If so, that wouldn’t be the first time she’d called the cops about her across-the-way neighbors. The first time was during the week they’d moved in, and a couple of the Kings came over to help unload furniture. Helen reported that there was a gang breaking into the Ferguson place to steal things.

“Let me get this straight,” Hopper twirled a pencil between two fingers while he spoke into the phone. “They’re stealing things by putting them back inside the house?”

He very politely talked her down from a ledge, and then drove by on the highway to give her a wave so that she felt safe.

The Velvet Hammer was closed the day of the wedding, as most of the employees were guests. But the next day, Shana opened up the bar at 10, harboring one of the worst hangovers of her adult life.

The shrill ringing of the phone made it feel like a buzzsaw was cutting through her skull, and Jackie leaned over the bar counter to snatch the receiver.

It was you, letting them know that Astrid had given birth to two healthy baby girls named Gracie and Rue early that morning, and that labor had been horrific, but their mother was on the mend.

Poor Steve. When the doctor came out and said there were “complications”, he nearly tore down the wall trying to get in there to his wife. The first baby, Rue, started to come out feet first, and he had this terrifying thought of the umbilical cord getting stuck around her neck or something, but once they got her turned around, the rest went smoothly. He did the best he could to coach her through the breathing techniques they’d learned in the Lamaze classes, but at one point, she politely, yet abruptly, asked him to shut up.

Not even three months later, Astrid was pregnant again.

They were certain that the procreation of the twins had been a fluke, a miracle; something that would only happen once in their lifetime.

But they’d been gravely mistaken.

They’d just transported the whole family to the ranch style home Astrid had inherited from her grandmother. Everyone had their own room, including another living area in the basement, and a vintage Landshark Airstream trailer in the back yard where Steve and Astrid slept when they needed alone time. It was the communal living, and the constant support from Robin and Katie, that kept them from mental collapse when they found out there was another baby on the way.

“What is wrong with you?” Eddie chuckled at Steve when he gave the two of you the news one morning over coffee at your kitchen table. “Couldn’t keep it in your pants for a few weeks?”

“I told you,” Steve shrugged. “I have a magic dick.”

At that, you and Eddie shared an affectionate eye roll. All joking aside, Steve was ecstatic about the news, bouncing on the balls of his feet everywhere he went at the idea of having a fourth child. Astrid, on the other hand, was trying not to have a panic attack as she breastfed two infants at once. If it happened to be another set of twins, she said she’d have to give one to you and Eddie.

You were testing paint swatches on the wall when Eddie snuck up from behind on the hardwood floor and put his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair. He had on a pair of his “holiest” jeans that were so ripped and worn, they were about to be shorts, along with his Slayer shirt that now had wide, cut out arm holes, exposing his ribs.

“Which one do you like more?” You asked, slipping your arms over his.

He hummed, kissing your earlobe. “They all look yellow to me.”

“Close, but one is Summer Sunset, one is Lemon Cream, and one is—-”

“What about black?” He asked in all seriousness. “Or gray?”

“Or we could just keep all of the wallpaper as it is,” you giggled at the tickle of his beard scruff on your neck.

The country rose wallpaper was lovely, but heavy pink floral themes in every room was a bit much for both of you. “You’re right, I love Lemon Yogurt or whatever.”

“I figured as much,” You turned to search his face. He’d been growing his bangs out, so they were just long enough to tuck behind his ears. “How does tofu curry sound for tonight?”

Your lips met, and you could taste that familiar mix of wintermint and Camel Lights that you’d come to love. He’d cut back to only a couple smokes a day, but he went through a pack of gum in an hour.

“Mhhmm tofu,” he closed his eyes dreamily. “Is there meat in that?”

Just before the twins turned one, you and Eddie had your first big fight.

Big enough that you threw some clothes in a bag and said you were going to stay with Katie and Robin right before you slammed the door so hard, a vase full of daisies he’d bought for you crashed to the ground and shattered.

It was over something so stupid, really. The way he left hair in the sink after he shaved bugged the shit out of you, and when you rolled as far away as you could from him in bed, he took it personally. You’d felt restless and out of your mind that week, and then you started your car to realize the gas tank was empty, even though he said he’d fill it up. You promised Eddie you’d have some quality time with him one night, but then Steve needed you at the Hammer and…all of these things started to pile up until the dam burst.

You sat in your car with the engine on for a while, swallowing back hot gasps, unable to pull the trigger and drive away. It wasn’t long before you felt his shadow, and a few soft knuckle taps on the window.

“Please don’t go,” he said.

“I don’t want to go,” you shivered and finally broke out in a sob, tears streaming down your face. “I love you so much.”

Next thing you knew, you were in his arms, and then you were back in the bed you shared, begging him to be so deep inside, until it made you see stars.

—-----

“An inch to the left,” Robin coached you from the ground as you were up on a ladder at the Velvet Hammer, hanging a piece of artwork along the brick red wall opposite the bar while Mother Love Bone played from the jukebox. “Ah, right there. Perfect.”

You’d brought a few paintings over weeks earlier, at Robin’s request, and they all sold almost immediately, so she begged you to bring in a few more. Still an employee at the Hammer, Steve offered you something more of an assistant manager position, but you were honest with him and confessed you didn’t want the extra responsibility, but that you’d help as much as you could. Plus, the tips you earned waitressing mostly surpassed what they could offer you as an assistant, and you were under the gun to get a collection of work together for the upcoming show in Marysville.

The same Marysville shows at the airplane hangar where you’d bumped into Eddie and Charlene that one night three years ago. The memory felt surreal to you, as if it were something that had happened in another lifetime.

The bar didn’t open for another hour, and Steve was hunched over a cup of coffee, popping energy pills he’d bought at the gas station.

“Get any sleep last night?” You asked, on your way to return the ladder to the storage room.

Steve grumbled something unintelligible, and his head bounced, nodding himself awake as if he’d been drifting off right where he sat.

“Mae has some serious pipes on her,” Robin quipped, speaking of Steve and Astrid’s newest baby girl, Mae, who was barely 16 weeks old. “The only one of us she seems to want to be around is Oliver.”

The twins were over 2 years old by then, and just as much of a handful as you’d imagine toddlers would be. Now with another baby, the family was running on empty. You and Eddie volunteered to babysit Rue and Gracie for a weekend after Mae was born, and even though you loved the girls dearly and cherished the time with them, you found yourselves counting down the minutes until their dad came to pick them up on the last day. “I’m glad we decided not to have kids. Steve’s brood is more than enough,” Eddie whispered to you at the window watching Steve drive off. He even considered getting “snipped” around the time Steve had the procedure, just as a precautionary measure.

“Why are you here so early anyway?” Robin asked around a yawn, adjusting the clasp on her denim overalls. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll stay until Shana gets here at noon.”

Steve yawned too, stretching his arms above his head as he stood. He wore a nice pair of blue denim jeans and a sage green pearl snap shirt that was buttoned wrong. “Can’t. Interviewing for a new apprentice over at the shop.”

Construction on the tattoo parlor next door took longer than anticipated. So long, that Eddie got frustrated enough to go ahead and do a bunch of the work himself. They’d just passed inspection the week before and were anxious to get some bodies in there working. They’d decided on the name Velvet Ink, and Wayne found some vintage barber chairs at auction for the reception area aesthetic Steve was looking for.

As of then, Wayne was fully in remission and getting his strength back. He’d even been well enough to take his 1948 Harley-Davidson Panhead out on a few Sunday cruises with the boys. Rue, one of the twins, took to him like glue, and Eddie remarked that he’d never seen the old man smile as big as he did when she called him “gan-pa”.

Taking the last big gulp of his coffee, Steve made his way out, letting in blinding beams of sunlight when he pushed open the front door of the Hammer. He paused for a moment to look at the padded leather stool that was there, the one he’d parked his butt on for many a night. Even though he helped to keep the peace if necessary, most of the past two years had been spent behind the scenes. A weird, secret part of him missed it; missed the simplicity of being a bouncer, versus being the owner of two businesses. Before he knew it, reminiscing on his old life brought his thoughts back to Charlene.

He was sure that she kept tabs on him, and he hoped she never decided to drop in and wreak havoc on his life again, but he was grateful for the fresh start she’d given him. He hoped that she was enjoying herself with Billy…or whoever the hell she was fucking those days.

—-----

It was Eddie’s night to make dinner, and you spotted him fussing in the kitchen through the side window of the farmhouse when you drove up that night. It looked like he touched something that was too hot and was snapping his hand in the air to cool it off.

You saw his motorcycle parked in the red barn, and wondered if he was planning to do some repairs on it. The Chevelle was no longer around, as he’d sold it to a collector up north so he could get a pickup that would be more useful to your new lives. You’d begged him not to, as you knew how hard he’d worked on it over the years with Wayne, but he couldn’t be swayed otherwise. .

Turns out, your man was extremely stubborn.

“Hey there, Dungeon Master,” you greeted him, shutting the back door to take your coat off. He’d been teaching you to play D&D now that he had a new head mechanic at the shop, giving him a bit more time to lean into his hobbies. Max and Lucas moved back to town, and Eddie was happy to teach Lucas how to operate the tow truck when he voiced that he needed a job.

In a black Hanes tank and jeans, your man was barefoot with his hair tied back. Looking down at the pot of sauce he was stirring, he smiled so big his dimples popped. “You really like calling me that, don’t you?”

Calling him Dungeon Master was a new kink unlocked for you.

You set your bag on one of the kitchen chairs and wrapped your arms around him from behind to sink your teeth into his shoulder. “I love finding out what a nerd you truly are. It’s hot.”

He lifted up a wooden spoon full of marinara, cupping his other hand underneath, and turned to blow on it before putting it to your lips.

“Smells yummy,” you said before taking a taste. He watched your mouth, but then eagerly found your eyes for the verdict.

“Mhmm baby it’s delicious.”

Satisfied, he went back to stirring. “Astrid gave me her recipe. I’ve never made it from scratch before,” he took a lick off the spoon for himself. “I think I used too much garlic.”

Another facet of Edward Munson you’d never realized before was that he was a natural in the kitchen, and found a lot of joy in cooking. One of the first things he made when you first moved in was chickpea patties for burgers, and whenever the two of you went into a bookstore and you found him browning the vegetarian cookbook section.

If you weren’t working at the Hammer, nights at home were very low key. There was the occasional concert or dinner on the town, but mostly nothing sounded better than curling up on the couch with him, or on the porch swing with a cocktail. Charlie was strictly an inside cat, but you found a stray living in the barn. All black with green eyes, a recent visit to the vet let you know that she was pregnant, and a litter of kittens was on the way, one of which had already been claimed by Oliver. So, you brought her inside and made her comfortable in the guest bedroom, until just yesterday when you found her curled up for a nap in Eddie’s lap.

He named her Scully because of his love of The X-Files, and you wondered if he’d be able to give the rest of the kittens up for adoption with the way he fawned over his new companion. He bought her a fancy collar with a bell, as well as catnip and special treats that she was forced to share with Charlie.

Later that night, sprawled on the couch with your head on his chest, you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open during an episode of Saturday Night Live when the phone in the kitchen rang. You almost jumped out of your skin, and both of the cats sprang from their perch on top of the couch.

“What the shit,” Eddie grumbled, gently sliding out from underneath you just as a second ring shattered the once peaceful evening.

“Who would be calling this late?” You said groggily, pulling the blanket up to your chin to turn and watch Eddie disappear down the hall.

“I don’t know, but this better not be Steve wanting to rant about one of his late night epiphanies.”

Phone calls at midnight were rarely ever a good thing. You sat straight, waiting to hear Eddie pick up the receiver. Had someone been hurt? Were the girls okay? Had something gone wrong at the Velvet Hammer? Maybe it was Bones needing Eddie for something to do with the Kings, and if so, you didn’t want him to answer it.

Eddie jerked the white, cordless phone to his ear, frowning. “Yeah? This is Eddie.”

You shifted to the edge of your seat, muting the TV so that you could hear him.

“How did you get this number?” He mumbled gruffly.

That made you get to your feet.

“...what makes you think I had anything to do with it?”

You took a few steps and froze.

You had a very bad feeling that you knew exactly who it was at the other end.

Eddie locked eyes with you when you came to pause at the stove.

“You have to be mistaken, there’s no way he was one of ours—-,” Eddie said to whoever it was, shaking his head.

You reached out and motioned for him to hand you the phone.

He swallowed, hesitating at first, but then you took it from him and put it to your ear.

“Charlene?” Your tone was patient. “What’s going on?”

—----

Earlier that evening at the Harrington residence, Astrid was breastfeeding Mae in the rocking chair while Katie helped the twins get dressed after their bath, and Robin washed dishes with Oliver. The TV was on, but no one was paying any attention to it, and Mae nestled against her mother like she was finally ready for sleep.

God, Astrid was tired.

Exhausted to the marrow of her bones and beyond.

Absolutely in love with her daughters and in awe of the beautiful family they’d created, but wishing she could have a few hours away from it all, just the same.

The twins were being loud, giggling as their Auntie Katie ushered them across the hall to their bedroom, and Astrid held her breath, worried they’d wake the baby up.

She let Robin know she was putting Mae in her crib, and then went to take the first shower she’d had in a while, feeling her stretch marks and all the ways her body had changed after carrying three babies. She never doubted Steve’s attraction to her, but he tattooed gorgeous women every day, not to mention the ones who waited tables in fishnet stockings and danced at the Hammer. She was sure a handful of those young beauties had a crush on their boss and would offer him comfort any time he wanted it.

She hated when her mind went there, when she could feel the walls of insecurity and depression closing in. She wanted to be nothing but grateful for every waking moment, but sometimes she was way too tired to think clearly. She needed to cry or scream or fuck… or something.

Between the kids, Steve’s schedule, and having zero energy at night, she couldn’t remember the last time the two of them had been intimate. A few kisses and touches in passing was really all it had been. Considering the insatiable hunger they’d had for each other over the years, it made her worry that he just wasn’t attracted to her anymore. But also, she knew that was bullshit—-but the whispers kept nagging at her.

On her way back down the hall to her bedroom, she could hear Oliver reading the girls a bedtime story and she paused to listen, emotions catching in her throat. Rue and Gracie loved him so much, and he was such a wonderful big brother, slipping into the role like he was born for it. Born to be a nurturing, caring soul just like his father. She often wondered if Ollie would grow up to be who Steve would’ve been, if he had been surrounded with love as a kid. Before Wayne took over his care, he hadn’t known much comfort or safety.

Steve came home smelling like a distillery, and when he tried to kiss her on his way in, she moved her head away.

“Where have you been?” She didn’t have to ask, it was obvious he’d tattooed late and stayed to have a few drinks. She missed the guy who would spend hours rubbing her belly and talking to the babies inside of it. It was the closeness she missed, not the sex itself.

Alarms went off in Steve when he caught the way she didn’t want to look at him, the way she shrugged away from his touch. “Hey, baby, I’m sorry. Jake paid extra to have his back piece finished tonight and so I—”

Robin and Katie had adjourned to the basement, and Astrid was folding laundry at the couch. “You just thought you’d booze it up with your buddies while I took care of our girls?”

He lowered his arms to hook his thumbs into his belt loops. “I thought about calling but I didn’t want to wake the—”

“Your daughters are all asleep. Gracie was asking for her daddy,” she pinned a towel to her check with her chin and folded the ends together.

Steve’s heart tightened, thinking of how he’d missed his baby girl asking about him. Thinking of how he was already letting her down. “I’m gonna sneak in and say goodnight,” he mumbled, heading that way.

“Please don’t,” Astrid snapped. “It took a long time to get them to calm down, but you’re rarely here at night so you wouldn’t know.”

Okay, something was definitely wrong. He’d fucked up, but he wasn’t exactly sure how. Astrid knew that he’d have some long nights, this was something they’d talked about. There had to be something else going on.

He sat down on the edge of the recliner, facing her, and laced his fingers together. “Is there anything…you want to talk about?”

Astrid scoffed, keeping her eyes on the TV. “Where do I even start?”

“I’m sorry if I—”

“Just say it, Steve,” she bit, stacking folded towels on top of each other. “Just say you’d rather get drunk with the dancers at the Velvet Hammer rather than come home and be with me.”

At that, he was dumbfounded. Gobsmacked, even.

“How could you…what? That’s crazy. Shit, you know other women don’t even exist for me, Astrid,” he kept trying to catch her gaze, but she’d avoid it. “No one has ever meant more to me than you. You're the love of my life.”

“I can tell you’re not attracted to me anymore, Steve. Just say it, I don’t float your boat.”

“Float my boat?” He almost chuckled at that, but immediately caught himself, realizing that it wasn’t a good time for humor.

There were tears welling in her eyes and Astrid bit her cheek in an effort to keep them at bay; her shoulders were shaking.

“Hey, listen, baby, c’mere,” he stood and reached for her hand. She let him have it, dropping the t-shirt she’d been holding. “Tell me you love me? Please?”

“Have you fucked anyone else since we’ve been together?’ She stared at him that time, eyes wet.

Steve didn’t hesitate. “Never even crossed my mind.”

She swallowed thickly, lowering her gaze.

“Wait,” Steve’s mind raced, realizing that it had probably been months since they’d had sex. “Have you? Fucked another dude?”

That one pissed her off, and it showed in the look she shot him. “When the hell would I have time for that, Steve? I barely have time to pee.”

He let go of her hand. “Oh, so, you’ve wanted to, with other people…you just don’t have time?”

“Steve, I’m going to punch you in the throat.”

He pulled her over so that she was in his lap, and she only fought him a little because then she was crying into his neck, overcome with exhaustion.

“Tell me,” he said softly, brushing her hair away to kiss her forehead. “Tell me you love me.”

“You know I do,” she sniffed, letting the tears roll hot down her cheeks, pulling her knees up so that she was snug in his lap.

“Say it,” he was pushing it now, tipping her chin up to find her mouth with his.

She mumbled her devotion as the tip of his tongue dragged along her bottom lip.

She clung to him as she cried it out for a minute, letting him hold her close and stoke her hair.

“Is she okay?” It was Oliver.

He’d snuck in from the other room and was watching the scene with a creased, worried brow.

“I’m fine, honey,” Astrid sat up, wiping her eyes. “It’s just been a long day.”

Oliver stared at his dad, almost defiantly. “I don’t like to see her sad.”

Steve saw his own tender perception mirrored back to him in his son's eyes. “I don’t like it either, come over here,” he motioned for Ollie to get close enough so he could put his arm around his son. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I didn’t want to miss you again,” Oliver admitted, sending another pang into Steve’s heart.

He’d gone from working all the time to…working even more, and something had to change. He hated being away from his family so often that he missed bedtime several days a week; they needed to hire more full-time help like Robin suggested, but Steve and Eddie were trying to pinch every penny.

After he talked to Oliver about his day, Steve realized he needed a goddamn smoke. Since the twins were born, he’d tried several times to cut back, but decided to quit cold turkey two days ago, and it wasn’t working. He needed to get some of those nicotine patches or something because being irritable with a throbbing head was no way to live in tandem with everything else on his plate.

Two hours later, after he’d tucked Ollie in and everyone else in the house was asleep, Steve made love to his wife.

He was about to try for a second round when his beeper on the nightstand started buzzing.

The alert was from Eddie.

Steve frowned at the number and excused himself to use the phone while Astrid pulled her robe on to go and check on Mae.

Come to find out, the past was indeed back to haunt him, yet again.

—--------

Hawkins was the last place Charlene ever expected to be on her birthday weekend. She’d said goodbye to that place forever, or so she thought, as there was nothing for her there. Her relationship with Billy lasted the better part of a year, but when she found out he’d been cheating on her with their neighbor, it didn’t even phase her. Normally, she would’ve been furious and exacted some elaborate revenge on the two, but at the time, she only shrugged and told him good luck. She was never in love with him, he’d been just another way to pass the time; a way to distract from her deep, soul-sucking loneliness.

Just before the separation from John, she’d purchased a storage unit for sentimental items she didn’t want to look at, but also didn’t have the heart to throw away. She’d considered letting someone from Storage Wars buy it just so they could be disappointed, but there were private letters and photos in there that she never wanted anyone to see, especially not strangers. So, she was back to clean it out and burn whatever she no longer wanted to hold on to.

She was in disguise, so to speak, with a new cropped brunette hairdo, and oversized sunglasses. The divorce and the bankruptcy of one of John’s businesses made headlines in the paper for weeks, as there was clearly not much to talk about in Hawkins, and for the first time since marrying into money, she didn't want to be recognized.

She promised she wouldn’t punish herself by driving along the street in front of the Velvet Hammer, but she did it anyway. She picked up her white 1970 Jaguar XKE from the secure garage it’d been stored in, and parked across the street to watch you carry a huge painting in while Robin held the door for you. The neon sign for Velvet Ink was clever, and she sat there for over an hour, until Steve finally stepped out of the main building. He squinted up at the daylight, shaking his fist like he wanted to punch the sun, and went next door to shake hands with a woman who was tattooed neck to foot, before unlocking the door to the parlor.

She had plenty of phone numbers for young men who would love to get paid to be her escort, but she was tired of paying people. She wanted someone to want to be with her, and be protective of her, without the money or the status, and she was realizing she didn’t know how to act normal when it came to earning someone’s genuine affection.

So, that night, she was alone at a swanky rooftop bar drinking a dirty martini and listening to someone playing a Christopher Cross instrumental on the piano.

Eating the last olive, she was thinking she’d make her way to her hotel when she felt a body sink down for a seat just one stool over. She smelled him first; a familiar mix of leather and nicotine, but this one had superior taste in cologne as she recognized a hint of cedar and honeysuckle from Dior’s Fahrenheit.

He ordered a beer and a shot of Jameson and then, to her surprise, he leaned over and pointed at her empty glass. “Can I buy you another?”

Her first instinct was to flat out ignore him or say, “no, I can buy my own drinks, thanks,” but then she turned to see who the voice belonged to, and her tongue got stuck on the roof of your mouth.

Maybe ten years her junior, he wore his jet-black hair slicked back, while his full lips and hazel eyes reminded her of someone. She could tell he was tall with broad shoulders, and a couple tattoos exposed where his shirt was pushed up to the elbows. A few chunky metal rings similar to the ones Eddie always wore, and from the insignias on his leather vest, she could see that he was also a member of the Coffin Kings MC.

Charlene notoriously had a thing for outlaws, especially pretty ones, and so she let him buy her that second drink, and then a third.

He said his name was Nick, and she was relieved to find out he appeared to have no clue who she was. She said her name was Rita, and after that third drink, she invited him back to her room to continue the party there.

Inviting a stranger back to her suite was not how she’d expected the evening to go, but the need to feel the weight of him on top of her overrode any common sense that might’ve tried to dissuade her. He was sexy and he made her laugh, and those were the only qualifications she needed at that moment.

After a few hours of getting to know each other in the biblical sense, and enjoying the mini bar, Charlene excused herself to the bathroom.

“I think I need a shower,” she hummed, lifting an eyebrow. “You want to join me?”

He was stretched out on the bed naked with his hands behind his head watching an episode rerun of ER.

“You go ahead, babe,” he seemed to nestle further into the pillows after that term of endearment, shooting her a wink. His Coffin Kings leather was neatly folded over the back of the nearby chair. “I’m gonna make us a couple more drinks.”

She left the bathroom door open a crack, just in case he changed his mind, but then she got fully absorbed in how heavenly the steaming hot water felt. She thought she heard him come into the bathroom at one point, so she peeled the curtain back a few inches, but only found her reflection in the mirror.

By the time she turned the water off, the steam from the hot shower was as thick as soup, and she realized that at one point, he’d shut the door all the way for whatever reason. Perhaps for her modesty? Him being such a gentleman felt almost too good to be true.

“You could order some food from the late-night menu if you’re hungry,” she said from behind the closed door while brushing her hair out. “Pie sounds good for some reason.”

Either he wasn’t responding, or he did, and she just couldn’t hear him over the audience laughter on the TV. She rubbed in some expensive body butter and then checked herself in the mirror a few times while putting the fluffy, white hotel robe on.

“But if you need to go home I’d understand, as long as I can have one more—-”

She opened the door as she spoke, but then stopped dead in her tracks.

Nick was no longer sprawled on the bed, and all of his clothes were gone, even his kutte.

Nothing wrong with that, maybe he went to get ice or to take a phone call.

The suite was large, with a separate sitting room, and so she checked around for a bit before realizing he had, in fact, vanished.

Anxiety rose in her chest but she pushed it down, taking a seat on the edge of the bed to reach for her lipstick on the nightstand.

But the lipstick was in her purse and there was no purse to be found, just a few condom wrappers and tiny, empty bottles of booze.

She’d taken her purse into the bathroom with her, she was sure of it.

After a few sweeps of the place, mumbling to herself in disbelief and horror, Charlene realized that her purse, her money, and her car keys were all gone.

She’d been hustled by a member of the Coffin Kings, and the truth of it made her scream into the palms of her hands.

She sprinted for the window to yank the curtains back. It was the middle of the night, and they were on one of the highest floors, and she couldn’t see the Jaguar from there even with binoculars.

She didn’t even bother to change out of her robe or put shoes on as she bolted from the room. She was pissed, sure, but there were sobs catching in her throat, and that old loneliness dropped like a lead weight, threatening to bring her to her knees.

By the time she rushed breathless into the lobby, Nick and her car were long gone.

—------

For whatever reason, Charlene asked Eddie specifically not to tell Steve; she didn’t want to face him under such lame circumstances. But the two men made an agreement a while back that one would tell the other if they ever heard from her, just to keep miscommunication to a minimum when dealing with someone who had a track record for manipulation.

“She thinks one of you put this Nick guy up to it,” you said, standing at the door watching Eddie get dressed. “As payback or something.”

Eddie frowned, adjusting the strap on his watch. “If I felt like I needed to get back at Charlene, I sure as hell wouldn’t trust someone else with the task. Plus, I didn’t even know she was back in town.”

“Did Steve know?”

The last person you ever wanted to feel bad for was the rich white woman who tried to ruin your life, but still, you didn’t like the idea of any woman getting hustled and used in that way.

Okay, maybe Charlene deserved some payback, but you hated to think that someone from the Coffin Kings was out there making a habit of taking advantage of women in such a spineless way.

Eddie was rummaging through the top dresser drawer. “We don’t even have a member named Nick, so that’s another whole fucking problem.”

“Another charter, maybe?” You followed him into the kitchen.

“Maybe,” he put his leather jacket on while Scully wound herself around his legs. He bent down to pet her and spoke to her in a baby voice before finishing his thought. “Or maybe it’s something worse.”

You didn’t have to ask to know that impersonating a member of the MC was a big problem.

Under any other circumstances, Eddie would wait until the next day to deal with whatever happened to Charlene, but the chop shops worked fast, and if they didn’t hurry, they’d never get her car back.

Why did Eddie even care? He asked himself that on the way to meet Steve at the hotel, rumbling along in his midnight blue, square box Chevy. She could’ve just called the cops and let them sort it out. But Eddie knew that, aside from Hopper, the police force was a joke, and there would be days of paperwork and questioning before anything attempted to get solved. By then, whoever the guy was would be long gone, and the Jaguar on a cargo ship to its next owner.

Steve was already in the parking lot, leaning against his bike with a smoke in his mouth when Eddie rolled up.

“How the hell did you get here so fast?” He asked, slamming the door of his truck.

“Left a message for Miser down at the chop shop,” Steve exhaled, ignoring his friend’s question. “He said he’ll keep an eye out for the car.”

Eddie had already sucked down his ration of cigarettes for the day, so he shoved another piece of gum in his mouth as they made their way to her floor.

There was a crystal chandelier in the lobby and mirrored elevators that gave Eddie the creeps.

“You think it’s some sort of trap?” Steve had his hands in his pockets, leaning in the corner while they traveled up with a Beach Boys instrumental played from a speaker in the ceiling. “Like she’s trying to trick us or something?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Eddie muttered. “I’m not gonna mention it to Bones and the rest until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Still in her robe, Charlene would’ve touched up her makeup to look presentable, but her Estee Lauder compact, and mascara were both in the stolen purse. Also, she was too upset to care. She’d called to cancel the credit cards in her wallet, but there was a bunch of cash that she’d surely never see again. She’d have to contact her bank in the morning, but until then, she was basically squatting in that expensive hotel room.

Eddie did not look happy to see her when she opened the door, but she’d expected as much, tucking her bob of hair behind her ears.

What she hadn’t expected, and what made her breath catch, was that Steve rolled in right behind him, scowling. He had what appeared to be baby spit up on the front of his Santa Cruz skate shirt and dark indents under his eyes.

Steve didn’t acknowledge her, he just breezed into the room and started looking around like he was a seasoned detective at the scene of a murder.

Charlene gave Eddie a look, whispering, “I asked you not to tell him?”

All Eddie could do was shrug, as he was still weary of her intentions, and for good reason.

Steve couldn’t help it, ever since the birth of his daughters, every injustice done to a woman in the world was something that could potentially happen to his girls, and he wasn’t having it.

“What did he look like?” Eddie asked the question just as Steve spun on his heel at the other side of the bed.

Hands on hips, she gave the description as best she could, and it sounded like half the guys in the club.

“He said his name was Nick?” Steve picked up the remote to turn the TV up a notch. Unsolved Mysteries was on and he was suddenly interested, forever distracted. “Do you think he was telling the truth?”

Charlene scoffed. “I had no reason to think he was lying? I didn’t ask to check his driver’s license.”

“Maybe you should from now on,” Steve kept his eyes on the screen, sitting down at the end of the bed. “The way you go through men like a meat grinder.”

“Look who’s talking, Romeo,” she spit back.

Charlene turned to complain to Eddie, but instead he held his hand up, palm out to silence her. “Are you sure he was with the Coffin Kings?”

Charlene tightened the sash on her robe. “Okay, you two can feel however you want about me, but you know I’m nothing if not observant.”

The two were silent in agreement.

“His leather vest looked just like the ones you have on now. Black, tooled leather with the reaper holding a coffin on the back. Embroidered insignias on the front as well.”

“Did it have a nickname or rank?” Eddie stuffed a third piece of wintermint gum in his mouth while Steve lit another smoke. The smell of the nicotine made Eddie’s hand twitch and his muscles ache.

Charlene shook her head after a moment of contemplation. “He didn’t have a name on his cut, but Hawkins was the charter, I’m positive.”

Both men shared a look before Steve got to his feet. “So you had your car stolen, what’s the big deal? Don’t you have like a hundred of them?”

Charlene shot him a look, reminding herself not to be a bitch. “That car belonged to my dad. It was special. He’s the only person in this world who ever gave a shit about me.” She went to the bedside table to grab a half empty travel size bottle of Jameson and drank the rest. “That’s why I kept it in storage. I couldn't take it with me, and I didn’t want to sell it.”

Eddie scratched the stubble on his chin, thinking about how he couldn’t wait to go home to crawl in bed with you and the cats.

“How much is it worth?” Steve asked out of curiosity.

Charlene shrugged, leaning against the wall to cross her feet at the ankles. “Dunno what it would go for today. Easily 300K.”

Eddie almost choked on his wad of gum thinking of what he could do with that much dough.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “You better hope this Nicky is stupid and greedy enough to sell it locally, or we might be shit out of luck.”

—-----

You felt Eddie slink in under the covers to spoon you early in the morning before dawn, but you were too tired to look at the clock or ask him how it went. Charlie was curled up at your feet and Scully took her pregnant belly over to nestle behind Eddie’s knees and purr.

He wasn’t in bed with you at quarter to 8 when you finally rose from sleep, and for a second, you thought maybe you’d only dreamed about him coming home, until you saw the note he’d left on the nightstand.

Had to run again

Tell you everything later

Left the coffee on

Love you infinity, Eddie

The way he always signed his notes made you chuckle, as if anyone else would be leaving notes for you at the house. You folded it up and tucked it into the shoebox in the closet where you stashed all of his notes to you.

After a half hour of letting yourself rejoin the living on a much-needed day off, you went up to the studio to stare at the two paintings you were working on, but your reverie was shattered when the phone rang.

Breathless, you answered to find that it was Robin. The shrill wail of a screaming child sounded from somewhere in the background.

“Is Steve there at your place?” She sounded rightfully flustered.

“No, um,” you looked around the kitchen as if maybe he was there, you just didn’t know it. “Eddie was here but then he left again. They might be together?”

A thoughtful silence and then, “Steve never came home last night. We assumed he stayed at your place.”

You were shaking your head but then realized Steve could have slept in the living room and you wouldn’t have been the wiser. You walked through the house to see if there was a blanket on the couch, but it was as tidy as you’d left it before bed.

“Are you busy right now?” Robin continued, making the executive decision to worry about Steve’s whereabouts later.

That was a loaded question, and even though you had plenty to do, you knew that was Robin’s way of saying she needed help. “Not…right this minute.”

“I hate to ask,” it was true, she really did hate to ask for help, but sometimes it was necessary. “Could you come over here for an hour or so? Katie has teacher conferences, I have to go to the Hammer, and as you know, Steve is MIA…”

“Sure,” Mae let out another earth-cracking wail that made you fear for your life. “Be there in ten minutes.”

—------

Miser’s underground chop shop operated behind one of the oldest buildings in Hawkins; solid brick, using a mom-and-pop place to get an oil change as a front during the day, but at night, stolen cars were stripped for parts and/or sold on the black market. The building was huge, and had once been a busy hotel and saloon, as it was near the train station.

Miser himself was short and muscular with a gray, handlebar mustache, a rodeo buckle from his old bareback days, and a cowboy hat. He’d been a pillar of the community for decades, and one of the last few anyone would suspect of illegal activity.

That morning, Eddie, Steve, Van, and Devlin rolled into the alley, passed the No Trespassing signs, and settled at the locked garage door. Miser’s Old Lady was one of the head Hells Belles named Jackal, and she came out of the back door with him. A long ponytail of silver hair, she lit a smoke and gave the guys a tip of her chin.

“That car you said to look out for? The white Jaguar?”

Eddie and Steve still had their sunglasses on, nodding once in unison his question.

“The guy showed up an hour ago,” Jackal inclined her head, whispering. “He’s been here before. He’s with another crew that likes to scam older women and take their shit.”

Steve and Eddie exchanged a look with the other two members, palms itching to get their hands on him.

“I asked him about the Kings flash,” Jackal continued. “He said he was from another charter, but he didn’t know who Bones was.”

Bones, President of the Coffin Kings Hawkins charter, was one of the first original 9 members of the MC when they first banded in the 60’s. Every CK member from Indiana to California knew exactly who Bones was.

So, this guy Nick just made it to the top of their shit list.

“This might get messy,” Eddie said to Miser.

“We got you,” Jackal confirmed, waving for them to follow her.

At the far end of the building, a door opened, and a guy with slick black hair, wearing a Coffin Kings kutte stepped out.

“Shit, that’s him—” Miser hissed, reaching for the Ruger at his hip.

But it was too late, the guy saw them and bolted.

Steve cursed, letting out after him on foot alongside Jackal, while Eddie and the others pursued on their bikes.

Around the next building, there was a car waiting for Nick—a plain white sedan—and even after Steve summoned his high school athlete days, he still couldn’t catch up. Nick jumped in the passenger seat and the vehicle peeled out, throwing dust up into Steve’s face as his arms windmilled to a halt.

“Fuck,” Steve took his sunglasses off and threw them to the gravel, nostrils flaring as he watched the vehicle flee.

Miser sent a gunshot, aiming for the front tire, but missed as the car picked up speed.

Eddie and the others continued on in hot pursuit, and Jackal motioned for Steve to get into her truck that was nearby: a lifted navy Bronco with monster tires. Steve had to grip onto the side bar to heft himself up into it, and then she gunned it, skidding out of the parking lot.

The sedan led them on a wild chase over the railroad tracks, skirting the center of town to avoid the cops. Eddie and Van made their way to the side of the vehicle and Van cracked the driver’s side window with the hilt of his knife, making them swerve. The car dove into the nearby alfalfa field, going where they knew the motorcycles couldn’t follow.

But, Jackal’s Bronco was made for the mud.

“Hold on—” she warned Steve.

“I’m holding,” Steve said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed on the target in front of them, his fist tight on the grab handle above his head.

The sedan almost got its back tire stuck in the ditch, but the Bronco bounced right through the muck like it was a paved road, tractor tread crawling along like a tank.

While Steve and Jackal took a diagonal course through farmland, Eddie and the rest took the next side road, aiming to cut them off before they could hit the highway.

—-----

You were on your way to Robin’s when you caught sight of a white car being chased through a field by what looked like a monster truck from one of rallies at the coliseum.

“What…the—-”

It was far enough away that you didn’t feel in danger, but you slowed down to see if you could understand what was happening.

But then three riders on motorcycles were headed in your direction at full tilt, so you pulled off to the side of the road to get out of their way, wondering if you knew any of them—-

“Eddie?” You squinted, wanting to be mistaken.

Indeed that was your boyfriend leading the pack.

He saw you as they passed at lightning speed and picked up his hand in a wave.

You sat there for a while, watching the three of them disappear in your rearview mirror, clearly angling to beat whoever was driving their car through the crop rows.

After a heavy sigh, you dropped your shoulders and kept on in the direction you were headed.

Three years ago, you would’ve freaked out and followed them. But at that point in the relationship, such a scene was par for the course, and you knew it was best to stay out of it.

—----

Up ahead was a sharp turn in the bend, and Devlin sped up to angle the sedan away from the street. His approach clipped the bumper of the car, making it lose control, forcing it back into the ditch, but it also made his own bike go flying. Thankfully he was thrown free before the hunk of metal landed on his leg, skidding across the gravel.

Jackal rode her tire up onto the back of the sedan, pinning it there as the two men inside fled.

Steve was on the ground so fast, he could barely find his feet. His legs felt like that of a roadrunner in one of the cartoons, flying in circles.

Eddie snagged the driver, throwing him into the dirt with a grunt, followed with a punch of his fist. The driver was gangly, with a prison spider web tat on his elbow and dishwater blonde hair styled in a mullet.

Nick climbed up onto the main road and bolted, until Jackal aimed and shot a bullet so close to his head, the heat grazed his ear.

That made him stutter to a halt, just in time for Steve to tackle him at the waist, putting him down hard on the pavement. Van took Eddie’s place, putting his knee into the driver’s back, pinning him there while the rest went to deal with the Coffin Kings imposter.

No words were exchanged for a while, just Nick sputtering in pain while Eddie rolled him over to check his pockets.

He found a wad of bills and waved it in Nick’s bloody face.

“C’mon man, that’s like 2 grand—-” Nick protested through a busted lip before Steve punched him again.

“Yeah, it’s real nice,” Eddie flashed a grin, standing to tuck the money in the top pocket of his leather. “Take that thing off of him.”

Steve and Devlin got the leather vest off, making sure they hurt him in the process, and then Devlin put his boot on the guys belly to keep him there.

Eddie inspected the insignia’s, noticing there were no rank or name placards, and the material wasn’t even real leather.

Eddie gripped it in his fist. “Where the fuck did you get this?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear,” Nick wiggled, grimacing at the weight of Devlin’s foot. “Just let me go, okay?”

Steve bent down to lap the guys face with the back of his hand. “He asked you a question.”

Nick looked like he’d rather vomit than tell the truth, but then Jackal stepped up and pointed her gun at him.

“Okay okay!” He squirmed. “M-my mom made it for me, alright? For my birthday a few weeks ago.”

None of them had been expecting that, but they all made eye contact and snickered in disbelief; Eddie’s grin nearly split his face open right before his expression turned dark again.

“Tell your mom to come see us sometime, we’ll put her to work,” he joked. “But you? You’re fucking done, do you understand—?”

Steve pulled Nick to his feet by his shirt and got in his face, jaw tense. “I should kill you for what you did to her.”

Eddie gave a sideway look, not expecting Steve to still have so much heat under his protectiveness for that woman. Maybe that’s part of what having daughters did to a man.

“B-b-but you’re not going to, right?” Nick blubbered. “We’re cool?”

“We’re far from cool,” Steve pulled him close to whisper in his ear. “I’ll be coming for you.”

And then Steve shoved him so that he tripped over his feet backwards and fell again.

“You better run, cowboy,” Jackal shot a bullet into the ground at his feet, and he let out a high-pitched scream before taking off down the road on foot.

“I see either of you again, you’re dead. Understand?” Eddie shouted after both of them as Van let go of his death grip on the driver.

The two were too scared to look back; too busy scurrying away as fast along the corn field to care about how stupid they looked.

“Hey, War Machine,” Van brushed blonde hair away from his beard stubble. “Was that your girl we passed back there?”

Eddie checked over his shoulder in the direction of the farmhouse, wondering where you’d been headed, exhaling a long breath. “Yeah, it was.”

—-----

You only saw Robin in passing once you arrived at the house and parked behind the Airstream. Oliver was at school, so it would be the three young girls with you and Astrid.

The twins were on the floor in the living room, coloring, and you couldn’t get over how much Gracie looked like Steve. Since they were fraternal, Rue resembled her sibling, but was also very different. She had Astrid’s wild hair and a face that didn’t quite resemble either of their parents; Astrid said she was the spitting image of their grandmother, Evelyn.

Astrid came around the corner cradling Mae in her arms with her mane of black hair back in a clip, and her eyes were puffy.

“Please take her,” she groaned, handing over Mae into your arms with a sigh of relief. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Mae had a pacifier in her mouth, but you could tell she was smiling up at you, lids droopy. You began that automatic movement of rocking her in your arms. You’d never been around many babies in your life, but the soothing gesture seemed to be ingrained in your dna.

Astrid flopped heavily into the kitchen chair with a groan. “Did Robin tell you Steve never came home last night?”

“She did,” you bent to kiss Mae’s soft forehead. “Eddie came home late and left early, so Steve might’ve been with him, and I just didn’t know it.”

“It’s not like Steve to not leave a note or let me know somehow,” she started picking at an invisible thread on her peach dress that buttoned down the front. “Do you think he did anything with Charlene?”

You were shocked at the question, but your friend looked like she hadn’t slept in days and perhaps wasn’t processing thoughts at peak capacity.

“Oh god no, Astrid,” Mae squirmed, kicking her strong little legs a few times in her Big Bird onesie, and you sat down in the chair next to Astrid. “Steve would never, and I think you know that. He’d cut his own hand off before he did anything as stupid as cheat on you.”

“Maybe,” she swallowed hard like she was trying to push down a sob. “We just…can’t seem to connect like we used to, and I’m just…just…”

She covered her face with both hands and cursed into her palms.

“Hey,” you leaned forward with a free arm to rub soothing circles on her back. “I’ll stay out here with the girls if you want to take a nap or something? Slam some beers in the bathroom, whatever.”

Astrid chuckled a bit at that, sliding her hands down her face and into her lap. “Maybe I do need some sleep.”

From where you sat, you could see the twins on the floor in the next room with papers and crayons scattered about. Just then, you noticed that Rue was headed in your direction, curls bouncing around her face.

There was a tiny frown on her face, like she’d been concentrating, and she handed each of you a piece of lined notebook paper that had been ripped in half.

Apparently, she’d made some drawings, but before you could say anything, she was off again, determined to get back to her work.

“Thank you Rue, I love you,” you called after her.

“One is from meeee!” Gracie shouted.

“I love you too, Gracie,” you laughed, staring fondly down at the mess of colorful scribbles.

“They want to be like their big brother so bad,” Astrid had tears in her eyes, but for a different reason this time; she was so proud of her little family, so grateful to be a mother.

When you held the paper up to the light, you noticed that there was some writing on the back of it, so you turned it over.

My hot wife —

Slept in trailer, didn’t want to wake the girls

Can’t wait to kiss you again

I love you

“Um, I think you should see this—” you passed the note to Astrid, and enjoyed watching the relief spread across her face as she read it.

—------

A few hours later, Steve rolled up to Munson’s Garage in the Jaguar, after giving it a test run around the hills to enjoy how smooth it took corners. He found Charlene already waiting there on a bench in the shade, talking with Wayne who wore a pair of light blue coveralls.

Wayne got to his feet while Steve pulled the sportscar up to the closest parking spot.

“Took you long enough,” Uncle barked at him, crossing his arms. “Cab dropped her off an hour ago.”

He’d left the top down, so his hair was a mess, and he pushed his sunglasses up, eyeing the two.

“No, it’s fine,” Charlene shrugged, looking relaxed. “I had good company.” She had on a teal, halter top pant suit with matching heels, and she stuck out like a sore thumb.

Steve put one booted foot up on the bench seat next to her. “Yeahm, so, that guy Nick, he wasn’t—”

“I know,” Charlene reluctantly held her hand out to take the keys he was offering. “Eddie told me. I’d like to say I’ve learned my lesson, but probably not.”

“No woman deserves that,” Wayne said, giving Steve a pointed look. “I hope you boys took care of it.”

“We did,” Steve met his gaze, letting him know without words that the dude wouldn’t be hanging around Hawkins if he had a lick of sense.

Wayne said a polite goodbye to Charlene before heading back to the shop.

“You never mentioned how charming your uncle is,” she said, running a hand through her hair.

“Stay away from Wayne,” Steve grumbled, sitting down across from her.

“I didn’t mean—” she got flustered and then straightened. “He reminds me of my dad, that’s all I meant. Nothing nefarious.”

“Never can tell with you,” he muttered, fumbling to rip the wrapper off a soft pack of Camels with his teeth. He told himself he wouldn’t buy another pack, but he lied.

There was silence while Steve lit his smoke, all but for the sound of faint rock music and an electric drill from one of the garages.

“So,” she chanced. “I hear you have a big family now.”

“Yeah, what about ‘em?” He scowled at her after a hearty inhale.

Charlene lifted both palms out as a sign of surrender. “Forget it, I was going to say I’m happy for you.”

Steve snorted. “You expect me to believe that, after all the shit you pulled, that you actually give a shit about anyone?”

She’d expected that, and she knew she deserved it.

“I give a shit about you,” she muttered. “I would’ve done anything for you.”

The sincerity confused him but then he pushed his shoulders back. “I’ve got everything I ever wanted, and I won’t let anyone fuck with that. ‘Specially not you.”

“Understood,” she said, rubbing her magenta lips together with a nod.

“I want you to be happy, though,” he softened his tone. “I cared about you once, and that means I always will, no matter how much I wish that weren’t true. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“That’s probably the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she scoffed a self-deprecating laugh.

“That sucks,” Steve exhaled through his nostrils. “You’ve got a good heart, Charlene. It’s just too bad you don’t know how to use it.”

A car pulled into the compound and at first, Steve didn’t pay much attention until he saw over his shoulder that it was you.

With Astrid and the girls.

—-----

Eddie turned the radio up in the garage when Come and Get It by Judas Priest came on, and then wiped his hands on a red rag as he made his way to the office. Although the finances at the Hammer and the garage were handled separately, he’d hired one accountant he trusted to take care of it all, and she’d just left a stack of paperwork for him to sign.

On the wall behind the desk was a framed photo of the two of you together, hugging in the front doorway of the farmhouse the first day you’d moved in. The flashback made his mouth twitch in a smile, as he had so many fond memories of those first couple weeks, back when there was nothing but a mattress on the floor and several leaks in the roof he had to control with various buckets. It was just the two of you, making love and whispering about lifetimes of devotion.

He had a secret place in the metal file cabinet where he kept all of the notes you’d left in his lunch over the months, and he had this tugging need to look through them again just before he caught sight of your car coming through the open gate and into the compound. Wayne was gone, but there on the picnic table sat Charlene and Steve, and before he could think too much about it, his feet were moving, wrenching the door open to make his way across the lot.

Steve jumped up when he saw you angling for a parking spot nearby. Oh shit, Eddie realized you had Astrid and the girls with you, too. The fact that they’d helped Charlene was no secret, but still, it made him feel uneasy with everyone about to converge in one spot.

—------

“Please tell me that is not Charlene,” Astrid whispered, eyeing the profile of the woman sitting across from her husband.

“I’m afraid that is exactly who it is,” you muttered, suddenly feeling like maybe it wasn’t a great idea to bring the girls by to visit daddy at work. It had been a while, and you assumed she’d be gone by then.

But it was too late now. You recognized the Jaguar parked nearby; it was the same one she brought in for Eddie to fix that first day you met.

All three girls were safely in car seats in the back, and when Astrid went to step out, Steve was right there, blocking her exit.

Funny enough, Eddie did the same, but on your side. He was there so fast, you accidentally hit his leg with the door.

“What a sight for sore eyes,” he grinned, pulling you flush to him while tipping your chin up for a kiss.

With lips still brushing together, you mumbled: “What the hell is she still doing here?”

And then through gritted teeth, Eddie responded: “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Steve went to grab for Astrid right away, hands at her hips, and she let him, but her attention was over his shoulder.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, gorgeous?” He murmured, noticing that she’d put on some mascara and deep burgundy lipstick after not wearing makeup for months.

Steve only shuffled back a few steps to allow her to shut the door, but then he continued to act as a barrier to keep her from going any further. He bent down to knock on the back window, waving to the twins as Mae slept in the car seat between them. Gracie shouted “daddy!” and held her hand out as if he could grab it through the glass.

Steve glanced sideways at Eddie. “So, should we all go get pizza or something? At that one place with the bouncy balls that the girls like? My treat. If you head over there, we’ll meet you—-”

Eddie was close to telling his friend to shut the hell up, as it felt like his babbling was only making things worse.

Astrid kissed his cheek. “Please move out of my way, Steven.”

—----

Charlene stood up and took hold of the keys to head for the Jaguar. She could tell by the looks you and Astrid were sharing that she’d managed to make things awkward, and more than anything, she felt embarrassed.

But, she took a step away from the picnic bench just in time to see Steve’s twin daughters come bouncing out of the vehicle in matching Oshkosh overalls and her chest tightened—-oh god, one of them was the spitting image of Steve.

And why were the two tiny girls headed that way on their little wobbly legs as if they knew her?

“Slow down, Rue!” Astrid called after them as Steve fumbled at getting the car seat out that had Mae inside.

“She’s, um, she was just leaving,” Steve grunted, trying to move the apparatus out without waking the baby. Astrid was already rushing to catch up with the girls, making each of them hold one of her hands.

For some reason, Charlene was frozen. Locking eyes with Gracie, knowing they were Steve’s hazel eyes, accumulated with the rest of her regrets like a punch to the gut.

Her deep dark secret was that she’d always wanted children of her own, but John refused.

You and Eddie followed them over, albeit reluctantly. If there were ever some serious conversation that needed to be had with Charlene, it certainly wouldn’t be done with the kids there, and so you weren’t at all sure what could possibly unfold.

Although Charlene and Astrid had spent a very tense few moments together the night Craig was shot, they’d never shared more than a few words with each other. Last night, when Steve got the page from Eddie, she’d known it was about Charlene before he even said a thing; she could feel her arriving in her bones like some might feel the impending threat of cold weather.

Steve hurried to get between the two women and set the baby carrier on the picnic table. Gracie was on her tiptoes with her arms up, begging him to put her on his shoulders, and so he did, and she took hold of his hair like a saddle horn.

“Glad we could meet under better circumstances,” Astrid said to Charlene, sincerely.

Eddie put his arm around your shoulder and you sank into him, wrapping both arms around his middle. You wished you could hide under his blue and black flannel so no one could see you.

“You have a really beautiful family,” was all Charlene could think to say as she caught sight of Steve’s third daughter.

“Thank you,” Astrid replied, maintaining steady eye contact.

There were a few strained silences, and you could feel Eddie wanting to fill them, but suddenly he burst out with:

“Did you want to come by the Hammer and see what we’ve done with the place?” He chirped, rubbing your arm almost violently.

Your whole body tensed at that, and you could see that it was the same physical response for Steve.

“No, that’s…I’m good,” Charlene removed the Gucci sunglasses from the top of her head and put them over her eyes. “There are several cargo crates of my things being sent to Hawaii right now, and I have a flight to catch. But I’m sure you’ve done well with it.”

But it was Rue who broke the next silence.

She’d wandered a few yards over to the fence and back, carrying two bright yellow dandelions pinched between her fingers.

She was right there, blocking Charlene’s path to her car, arm outstretched to offer her one.

“For me?” Charlene was genuinely confused, and not accustomed to the wholesome kindness often displayed by children.

Rue just nodded, tucking the other one behind her ear so that the bloom was at her cheek.

The rest of you exchanged a few baffled looks—all but Astrid, because she knew what was happening. She knew then that her daughter carried the same gift she’d been born with; the gift of intuitive sight. Even at her young age, Rue could read people and their intentions, and she knew that Charlene was no longer a threat to them. She knew that everyone in that parking lot deserved healing and forgiveness.

“Like this?” Charlene put the flower in her hair the same way with tentative fingers, and Rue nodded again, moving around the woman to walk back over to her family.

Astrid scooped Rue up into her arms.

Charlene took one last look over at the group as she drove out of the compound, seeing the way you all smiled at each other, continuing on with conversation as if she’d never been there. You were all visibly relieved to no longer be sharing space with her, but Rue had been able to see her with fresh eyes, without all of the pain and suffering she’d inflicted on others and on herself. There’d been no judgment or weariness in that child’s eyes; just curiosity and love. It gave her a bit of hope that maybe she could…start over. Maybe she’d fall in love again with a guy who wasn’t Steve, maybe she’d adopt a child of her own one day, or maybe…she’d get a dog and call it a day.

—------

A few days later, you couldn’t find Scully, and the two of you fell into panic mode.

“Did you let her out?” Eddie snapped. “You know we need to keep her inside this close to the due date.”

Eddie was a mess. Granted, you were upset too, but he was ready to tear the whole house apart looking for her, and then some. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself seeing how devoted he was to this once stray cat. Some nights he even made room between the two of you so that Scully could sleep in the middle.

But finally, a soft mewing from the closet alerted you to the fact that she’d tucked herself away in the dark to have her babies.

“Honey, come look,” you whispered down the hall to him.

There she was, snuggled back in the corner in a box of old sweatshirts, nursing four tiny baby kittens. She had one more a half hour later to make the final count five. Two black, one gray, one black and white, and one orange striper.

“Daddy must’ve been an orange guy, hey my darling?” He hummed a conversation to Scully as you picked them all up to put down some fresh blankets, making sure she had food and water nearby.

“What should we name them?” Eddie asked as you both sat in the doorway, watching them nuzzle together for sleep.

“I think we should let Oliver name the orange little girl, since I know that’s the one he’ll pick,” you whispered, to which Eddie agreed. “Maybe I’ll name the gray one Keanu,” you said, mostly joking, but Eddie didn’t seem bothered. As soon as it was possible, Scully would be back at the vet to get fixed, but you were grateful to have this experience with him.

“Can I name the black ones Dio and Vecna?” He asked, hopefully.

“What kind of a name is Vecna?” You wrinkled your nose. “Should we call him Vicky for short?”

“The black and white looks like a Leia,” he continued, eyes sparkling.

“Leia is a good name,” you hummed, putting your cheek on his shoulder.

You moved Scully and her box of babies into your bedroom so that she would be closer if she needed anything, but then in the middle of the night, she moved the kittens back to the same spot in the guest bedroom closet, so then that is where you let her stay.

Later that night, you were in the kitchen cleaning up before bed, when you heard Eddie singing a song under his breath in the next room:

“Hey little girl is your daddy home, did he go and leave you all alone…”

You thought you recognized it as you scrubbed a dish, eyes darting to the window to watch two motorcycles zoom by on the dark highway in the distance.

“I got a bad desire…”

On the refrigerator behind you, secured by magnets, were photo snapshots of the two of you with Steve and Astrid, Robin and Katie, Gracie, Rue and one of Mae when she was first born. There was one of Wayne twenty years ago, standing with Taz and War Machine as two gangly teenagers. There was a long strip from a photo booth at the fair with you, Eddie, and Oliver all making faces for the camera.

“Tell me now, baby, is he good to you

Can he do to you the things that I do? I can take you higher…”

He’d been folding the blanket on the couch and blowing out candles, but then he was on his way to you as the mumbled lyrics got clearer:

“Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull

And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull…”

You finished what you were doing, but then you stayed still, feeling him come up behind.

“At night, I wake up with the sheets soaking wet

And a freight train running through the middle of my head…”

You leaned back, letting yourself be caged in his embrace; his head dipping to kiss your neck. You thought about that day on the side of the road when he picked you up in the tow truck, and how it didn’t feel like you were meeting for the first time but more, coming back together after a lifetime apart.

His lips ghosted the shell of your ear. “Only you can cool my desire…”

After that first kiss years ago, you knew there would never be another option for you; Eddie Munson was endgame. Having tasted true love once in your life, you felt like you could die happy.

But not until you rode the highway of life for a long, long time. Even at the end, you’d still be holding on tight.

“...Oh oh oh I’m on Fire…”

—------

The Epilogue of an Epilogue

“Yo, Steve. Package for you.”

It was Thumper, working the door at the Velvet Hammer for what promised to be a wild Friday night. Max ended up showing interest in the Assistant Manager position, after deciding that long haul trucking was taking a toll on her need to start a family, and Robin couldn’t hire her fast enough. Jeff also came on as a part-time bartender, leaving you pleasantly surprised and wondering what other skill sets he had up his sleeve.

Steve had just come through the door to ask Shana for a cup of coffee when the crumpled brown piece of mail flew at his chest. He caught it, but took the time to throw Thumper a dirty look.

“Ease up, boss,” the burly biker grumbled through a huge grin. “Since when do you have a penpal in Hawaii?”

He stopped in his tracks at that, afraid to look down. Afraid to open it, even. Steve’s newest ink—-Mae’s name on the back of his hand—-glistened from the recent layer of Aquaphor.

He asked for his coffee with a pound of sugar and sat at the end of the bar, frowning.

The return address was a P.O. box in Honolulu without a name, but he didn’t even have to wonder. He was sure he could smell the Chanel through the packaging.

Inside was a ring of keys.

Car keys, clearly, but it took him a second to understand what they belonged to and why they looked so familiar in his hand.

There was also a note:

These are the keys to the Jaguar. It’s parked in a secure garage at the airport, instructions also enclosed.

Every time I drive it, I get myself in trouble. Hopefully you will have better luck, or maybe Rue can have it when she gets older.

The dandelion was a fair trade.

—----

I have so much to say, so much love to give to you all, and I hope you can feel it through the words. I'm so deeply grateful for each one of you and this experience. Whether you have left comments, reblogs, thoughtful asks, or edits, I remember you and you are special to me. I would give anything to meet up at the Velvet Hammer for cocktails (and/or tea, of course) but here are a few in particular I'd like to thank:

Huge thank you to @cryptidcurio for being the initial inspiration for this fic in the first place, and for always feeding me the best ideas. Some of the most popular scenes in this series are from her. Our biker Eddie and biker Steve talks seem to have somehow gotten us through the past hellish year, I love you. I'm so grateful for @texasblues and all of our chats about Steve, Astrid, Wayne, and the girls. Truly, the only reason Astrid and Steve are so perfect is because of Jennie and our brainstorming. We chat a lot about what Rue, Gracie, and Mae will be like when they are older, and hopefully we'll have a few blurbs about that someday. Also, I highly recommend her Steve & Astrid writings HERE My beautiful friend @dandelionnfluff decided to do a bind of I'm on Fire for their personal use and I am still choked up about how much work they put in and how gorgeous it is. You can see their amazing work here: book bind

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Taglist: @notsobubblybaby @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer@manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare@chaoticgood-munson @emxcast @rhirojo @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @falling-solar-system@secretdryrose

@whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @kurdtbean@dandelionnfluff @clincallyonline17 @tlclick73 @eddiemunson95 @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales@laylaloves-ed@dashingdeb16@eddiiiieeee @ick90 @dashingdeb16 @polyestermonster @trixyvixx @atomickaratel8dy @kiyastrf94 @allthingsjoeq @eddiesxangel @razzieth @corrodeddeadlydoll @erinekc @angietherose @sllooney @writinginthetwilight @moonbeamsandmayhem @brianamunson92 @joannamuns9n @bellalillyrose @alba8688 @chevelle724

#I'm on Fire #IoF #biker!Eddie #biker!Steve #biker Eddie Munson #biker Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson fanfiction #biker au #Robin Buckley #Steve Harrington

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starfinss · 2 days

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ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇᴀᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇᴅᴅʟɪɴɢ ᴍᴇʟᴜꜱɪɴᴇꜱ — ᴡʀɪᴏᴛʜᴇꜱʟᴇʏ

𝘍𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮: Genshin Impact

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: Wriothesley + Reader

𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: NSFW

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 12,925

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: After beginning work as a doctor at the Fortress of Meropide, Siegwinne decides you and the Duke are a good match, and will do anything in her power to get you to together, even if she has to take drastic measures.

Or, alternatively, Siegwinne adds a little something extra to the Duke's tea. Chaos ensues.

As soon as the suture needle so much as touched the man sitting before you, he was already flinching away.

“That hurts!” He cried, “please, doctor, be gentle with me.”

It was almost laughable, really. Monsieur Phillip was a hardened criminal, or so you’d been told. He was a career criminal, you remembered the Duke remarking, and he’d been sentenced to serve time in the Fortress of Meropide for a myriad of things, such as assault, and even attempted murder, but here he was, a hulking mass of a man, whimpering in pain at the slightest prick of a needle.

“Hush,” you said, tutting gently, “the quicker I start, the quicker it’s over. Now hold still.”

He flinched back again, eyeing the needle like it was out to get him. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Please try and relax. I can assure you, I did go to medical school.”

Before he could say anything else, you made the first stitch, carefully, but quickly enough so as not to cause him too much pain. Even with the numbing gel you’d applied, it seemed that the patient’s pain threshold was quite low. It usually removed enough sensation that any leftover pain would be no more than a pinch, but even with that, you could see tears beading at his lash line.

A hardened criminal, indeed.

You finished the sutures quickly before bandaging the injured shoulder and giving Phillip some care instructions.

“And,” you said, “no more getting into altercations about work times, okay?”

Phillip sighed, casting his eyes away from you.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You smiled, kindly. “That’s doctor to you.”

It wasn’t wholly unexpected. Men tended to have lower pain tolerances than women did. You’d given stitches to many people before, and when it came to whining, the men tended to be the most common offenders.

After Phillip left, you checked up on a woman who was resting in one of the infirmary beds, and after taking her temperature and walking away with your clipboard, you nearly tripped over Siegwinne, who had somehow snuck into your path without you noticing.

“Archons,” you exclaimed, a hand flying over your heart, “I need to put a bell on you.”

Siegwinne ignored your remark. “May I see the patient’s chart?”

You handed it to her. “The patient shows signs of improvement. Her fever has broken, and her delirium has started to clear up. She should make a full recovery.”

Siegwinne hummed meaningfully. “Very good. I was worried about that one. I am glad to hear she is healing well.”

You nodded, then turned, starting towards your desk, but before you could make it, Siegwinne called your name, making you pause.

“Yes?”

Her expression remained impassive, eyes curious, unsuspecting, and she tucked the clipboard under her arm as she closed the distance between you.

“Have you seen the Duke today?”

There it was. You didn’t know what you’d been expecting aside from this. Ever since Siegwinne had caught onto the fact that you’d developed a crush on the Duke, she’d tried to do everything in her power to set you up with him. In the beginning, that was all it was. A crush. It was a crush in the same way one would develop an infatuation with a colleague or schoolmate, based on their appearance or the limited positive interactions they had with them. It was no secret that Wriothesley was an attractive man. He was tall, and handsome, anyone with eyes could see that. You’d heard the whispers among female inmates and guards alike. You were not unique in feeling some form of attraction to him.

But to Siegwinne, your silly crush was an opportunity.

“You’re a good woman,” she told you, “and His Grace is always stressed. I fear for his health. I think you would be the right person to keep him company. You are a good match. Your influence and affection would do him much good.”

Siegwinne came to you with this a few months after you’d started work at the Fortress, completely out of nowhere, stunning you to silence. You had no idea how she’d caught on to your feelings, and when you expressed as much, she went into a rambling tangent about human behavior, something about the dilation of pupils, and how she’d been taking notes, and that was when you cut her off.

“Absolutely not.”

But nevertheless, she persisted.

Siegweinne’s matchmaking attempts rarely ended conclusively, since she tended to see things as a logical cause and effect, and did not at all fit the way any normal human would attempt to court another. They mostly involved putting you and Wriothesley into situations that forced you to speak or interact with one another, with little to no regard to how much said situations were an inconvenience to you. Her first attempt, as such, embarrassingly enough, involved telling the Duke you’d had some kind of accident with an inmate, and when he came to the infirmary to check in, finding you unharmed and working at your desk, all that ensued was a lot of confusion. You wondered why he’d come all that way to see you, and he was surprised to find you not laying on one of the infirmary beds.

But, what her attempts did do, was make the way you felt about Wriothesley, which was no more than a passing fancy at first, grow into something more.

And despite your best efforts, that only made Siegwinne latch on even harder.

“Hello?” Siegwinne said, shaking you from your thoughts, “I believe it is polite to answer a question when asked one, or have human customs changed?”

You brushed off her unintentional rudeness, instead answering what she’d asked you.

“No,” you said, “I have not seen His Grace today. He’s a busy man, Siegwinne. You know that.”

“Well, you should go see him.”

You sighed, leaning down to take your clipboard from under her arm, then crossing to your desk.

“I don’t have a reason to go see him,” you said, sitting down, “and like I said, His Grace is a busy man.”

She didn’t push after that, simply going back to work as you did yours, and you tried to put it out of your mind. You and Wriothesley were friends, you’d say. Even though you usually found yourselves meeting in less than normal circumstances, you were still fond of him. You enjoyed his frank, matter-of-fact personality, and dry sense of humor, and he seemed to enjoy your company as well. Your relationship was as casual as it could be between you and a man who was technically your boss, and friendly enough that you had conversations outside of work related matters. You’d never let Siegwinne know this, but her repeated and clumsy attempts at setting you up were not without some benefits.

That was fine, you supposed. You’d bonded over Siegwinne and her antics, and built a friendship over a shared love of tea, as well as an author you both enjoyed, among other common interests. But that was it. As much as Siegwinne, and, begrudgingly, you, would like to say otherwise, you and The Duke were only friends.

And, it seemed, as you settled into that fact quite comfortably, Siegwinne only grew more brazen in her attempts at Melusine style matchmaking.

Her latest attempt involved trying to shut you in a locked room with The Duke, which failed when Wriothesley produced the master key in order to open the door. It happened a little over a week ago, which made you nervous, because Siegwinne didn’t like letting too much time pass between her less than gentle shoves. You were almost completely certain that Wriothesley knew what was happening, he’d have to be stupid not to, though he hadn’t said anything about it. This was probably to spare you from any further embarrassment, which you appreciated.

The situation was hopeless. You knew that well. But Siegwinne didn’t, and that was beginning to become a problem. You didn’t know why you’d let her get away with this for the handful of months that you had, but maybe, deep down, you hoped that something would actually come from all her meddling.

And apart from that, you had a certain degree of professionalism to uphold. Wriothesley was your boss, and you were both his employee and his doctor. As much as you found yourself wishing otherwise, pursuing your feelings, even if that was an option, just wasn’t ethical.

But still, you could dream, you supposed. Dreaming was harmless.

“I need you to run an errand for me.”

You turned in your chair, raising an eyebrow at Siegwinne, who was staring over at you innocently, a thermos in her hands. You looked at it, then back at her, puzzled.

“Siegwinne, I’m not in the mood.”

She frowned. “To do your job? How unbecoming. I’m simply asking you to deliver this tea to the Duke. His Grace is suffering from a headache. I delivered some to him this morning, but the problem still persists.”

You glanced at the thermos again. “Tea? What’s in it?”

She immediately became defensive, and for a moment, you almost felt guilty for doubting her.

“Medicine!” She cried, “what do you take me for? I’ve brewed a painkiller into the tea. It should help with His Grace’s headache. If you don’t trust me, you can take a sip yourself.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why can’t you do it?”

Her brows pinched together in annoyance, and maybe a little indignance. “I have to go see a patient, thank you. A young man is complaining of nausea, and finds it hard to stand because of it, so I am going to see him in his cell. Now, will you bring His Grace the tea, or not?”

You sighed. In your own mind, your hesitance was completely justified. Siegwinne had tried to trick you into being alone with Wriothesley many times before this, but then again, if the Duke was actually feeling unwell, and you refused to bring him medicine, what kind of doctor would you be?

And so, you relented. With another sigh, you stood, snatching the thermos from Siegwinne’s outstretched hand.

“Fine,” you said, “I’ll be back as soon as I drop it off.”

If Siegwinne was disappointed by this, she hid it well. She simply nodded, then crossed over to her desk to busy herself with her medical bag. You glanced over a few more things at your own desk before scooping up the thermos and leaving the infirmary after calling a quick few words of parting to Siegwinne, who only nodded.

You shivered a little as you left the infirmary. Siegwinne tended to keep it warmer there, with a space heater sitting in the corner to combat the cold dampness of the rest of the Fortress of Meropide. It was better for the patients, she said, if they had somewhere nice and warm to rest and recover. You were fairly certain she also said something about humans and their preference for warmth, but that wasn’t important at present.

The clang of your boots against the metal floors rang out as you walked, head held high, thermos in your grip. The air smelled of iron and brine, a scent you’d grown used to in the time you’d been working in the Fortress. Artificial light cast everything in a sort of ominous hue, and the low strength of it left everything in partial shadow. It used to make you nervous, not knowing what hid behind them, using them like masks. Now you knew that whatever was waiting for you was something you could handle.

You glanced down at the thermos in your hands. It was warm, likely just brewed. There was no way Siegwinne would have you serve the Duke cold tea. The thermos was plain; unassuming. It was slate gray, probably stainless steel. You turned it over in your hands, studying it. It was just tea. You had no reason to think it was anything other than that. But with Siegwinne, you’d learned to expect the unexpected.

Absently, you stepped into the elevator to take you down to the administrative floor. The car jerked, and with a mechanical clank, began to move. You turned the thermos over in your hands again. It’s just tea. For the Duke. Your poor, ailing boss. You twisted your mouth. It was fine. There was no way Siegwinne would ever do anything to actually harm Wriothesley. You tapped your nails against the surface of the thermos, almost jumping from your skin when the elevator came to an abrupt stop as it reached its destination, jostling you where you stood and ejecting you from your tangled thoughts.

You sighed as you left the elevator, tucking the thermos into your arms and against your chest. Everything was fine. If Siegwinne took anything seriously, it was health. You’d caught her staring intently at you on many occasions, and when you asked her about it, she told you she was making sure you were healthy, in a very matter-of-fact tone, like it was obvious. She may be odd, but she wasn’t going to try and harm anyone.

As you reached the doors to the Duke’s office, you reached into the pocket of your skirt, digging out the key to the lock. Because of the Fortress’s status as a prison, it was only natural that important areas such as the office of the warden would remain locked. The only way to get in was if you had a key or if you were invited by Wriothesley himself. There was also the off chance that the Duke left the doors unlocked, but that was uncommon. Regardless, before you put the key in the lock, you raised your hand, knocking on the door with a great clang.

“Your Grace?” you called, though it was unlikely he heard you through the thick steel, “I’ll be coming in now. I have some tea for you.”

And with that, you pushed the key into place, twisting. With a grunt of effort, you pushed the doors open.

It was as you were opening the door that you heard him, calling to you. It was muffled under the mechanical clank of the doors, making you only vaguely aware of his call of your name, and you hurried to close the door to answer him. The lock clicked as you did, signifying that the mechanism had reset to its previous locked state.

You expected Wriothesley to call out to you again after your lack of response, or even possibly to come see you. It was unlikely that Siegwinne would send you on an errand without previously announcing your arrival. But instead, you were met with silence. You gripped the thermos more tightly, hesitating.

“Your Grace?”

You heard something else then. A soft intake of breath, only able to be heard because of the complete lack of noise, save for the quiet hum of machinery from beyond the doors. Then, you could hear him clearing his throat.

“Yes,” you heard Wriothsley say, from up the stairs, “up here.”

You sighed, relieved, as you made your way up the curving staircase and into the main office.

And as for things you expected to see, this was not among them.

Wriothesley was sitting at his desk, but he looked more than a little disheveled. His coat had been discarded, draped over the back of his chair, and his tie was undone, hanging loose around his neck. His waistcoat was also unbuttoned, as were the top two buttons of the dress shirt he wore underneath the garment. His gloves had also been removed, laying out on his desk beside an empty teacup. His hair was tousled, more than usual, and his face…

You furrowed your brows, suddenly concerned. His face was flushed, a deep pink settled in the apples of his cheeks, very evident against his usually pale skin. Breath, feather soft, expelled itself through parted lips, almost too quickly, as he looked over at you, brows pinching together, as if pained or troubled before the expression calmed. Wriothesley straightened, clearing his throat again, and he was hurriedly fixing his clothing, deft fingers doing up the buttons of his shirt, smoothing back over his hair.

His eyes fell to the thermos in your hands, lingering, before sliding up to your face.

You stared at him, your concern growing more by the second, and after a beat, you crossed to the desk, setting the thermos down.

“Your Grace,” you said, “I’ve brought you painkillers for your headache, but you look… May I examine you? You do not look like you’re feeling well.”

“Examine me,” he repeated, then took a slow breath, squeezing his eyes shut before shaking his head, as if clearing away a fog. He swallowed, raking a hand through his hair, and it was then that you spotted sweat beading on his forehead.

“Yes,” you said, gently, already in doctor mode, “please, let me help.”

He cleared his throat, for what was probably the third time, and you narrowed your eyes. You were rapidly beginning to get suspicious in addition to concerned. There was something he wasn’t telling you. Absently, you found yourself mentally scolding yourself for neglecting to bring your medical bag.

“I’m fine,” he said, though he certainly didn’t look fine, “please, don’t trouble yourself. You’ve come all this way for me, so would you at least sit with me for a cup of tea?”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift. It was fine, though, you supposed. Staying around wasn’t a terrible idea. It would give you a chance to more closely study the Duke’s behavior, and try and figure out what the problem might be. And so, you stepped to the table off to the side, picking a clean tea cup from the collection displayed there.

“I don’t need any, really,” you said as you leaned over to take the thermos from the desk, “Siegwinne made this for you, for your head. I am happy to sit and talk with you, though, if you want me to.”

Wriothesley smiled easily. “If you like, I can brew you a cup from my personal collection of teas. What do you like?”

You flushed, feeling special, and you turned to busy yourself with arranging his cup of tea to hide the pink in your cheeks.

“You already know my preferences, Your Grace,” you said, over your shoulder, “just a cup of earl gray is fine.”

You heard shuffling, then the sound of a drawer being pulled open, and you knew the Duke was rifling through the collection of teas he kept stored in his desk. Shifting your focus, you removed the small travel cup attached to the top of the thermos, then unscrewed the lid. Immediately, you were hit with the scent of the tea. It was unexpectedly sweet, and sort of floral. It certainly wasn’t the Duke’s usual style, that was for sure. You took another lungful of it, and could make out notes of various medicinal herbs, including rosemary and feverfew, both known to help with headaches. You could also smell a hint of lavender. But there was still that floral, sort of rosy scent, undercut by the bitter, citrus aroma of the feverfew. It smelled a bit like rainbow roses; of petrichor and morning dew and sweet fresh petals. It certainly had herbs in it, some of which were known to help with what the Duke needed, but the combination of them that you were able to discern was puzzling to say the least.

You put it out of your mind, chalking up the roses to being there to help with the bitterness of the feverfew. With a sigh, you poured the steaming liquid into the teacup. It was sort of a deep rouge color, bordering on purple. A nice color, you decided, and not entirely unexpected with what was contained in the tea. You placed the cup on a saucer, then carried it, alongside the still half filled thermos over to the desk, setting them before the Duke. In exchange, he handed you the tea bag you’d requested, which you accepted gladly.

After you’d filled a cup with boiling water, which the Duke always seemed to have on hand in any nearby kettle, ready for a quick cup. You added the tea bag, as well as a few spoonfuls of sugar, then took your seat on the couch by the tea table.

Wriothesley’s face twisted as he took the first sip from his cup, seemingly troubled.

“It’s very sweet.”

You tilted your head. “Is it not to your liking? I’ll be sure to tell Siegwinne to tweak the recipe.”

Wriothesley waved a dismissive hand. “No,” he said, “I just wasn’t expecting it. It’s not my usual style, but I don’t dislike it.”

You nodded meaningfully, blowing over your tea once more.

“How are things over in the infirmary?” He asked, and you sat up straighter, engaged.

“Fine. The usual. I had a man who was scared of needles just before I came over,” you said, “I’d barely touched him before he was telling me to stop.”

Wriothesley laughed, amused. He took another swallow of tea.

“Oh, really?” He said, “Monsieur Phillip, I suspect? That man always gets into brawls, but is terrified of medical treatment. And he never wins those brawls. The gardes always have to pull the other guy off of him.”

You hid your smile behind your teacup. “I know,” you said, “Siegwinne is always scolding him when he comes in for being reckless.”

Wriothesley rested his head on a closed fist, thoughtful, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Maybe a few rounds in the Pankration Ring would do him some good,” he said, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t go putting any ideas in his head,” you said, “he might become a permanent resident of the infirmary if he starts entering into any matches.”

Wriothesley made a face, pale blue eyes moving to rest somewhere in the depths of his teacup. “Maybe he’d pick up a few things about proper combat, though.”

It was your turn to laugh. “Maybe, but at the cost of his health.”

You enjoyed this. It was hardly the first time you’d been invited to stay for tea, in addition to being personally invited to tea a handful of times before. Wriothesley’s presence was pleasant and inviting, despite his intimidating stature and appearance. His height dwarfed many other people, and you’d seen few as tall as he was, save for the Iudex, who was far more slim than the Duke was. Where Monsieur Neuvillette was tall and lithe, Wriothesley was broad and powerfully built. His sheer size alone, made only more prominent by the bulky coat he wore around his shoulders, was enough to intimidate anyone.

But despite that, he was an amicable and good-humored man, earnest and straightforward. He made you feel at ease, and your growing affection for him settled low and warm in the spot behind your heart.

His face was getting more pink, you noticed, with a start. You took another sip of tea, watching him closely. His brow furrowed, just briefly, and he was fiddling with the bands of leather around his throat, as if they were suddenly too tight. He shifted in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable.

“Your Grace?” You said, and he seemed to snap out of whatever had overtaken him, regarding you with raised eyebrows and an expectant expression.

“Sorry,” he said, “what were you saying?”

You studied him, eyes narrowed, and he laughed, a little awkwardly.

“You’re doing that thing Siegwinne does,” he said, “the thing she does with her eyes. I don’t know how you replicated it so perfectly. There’s nothing wrong, I promise. It’s just suddenly kind of hot in here. Do you feel that?”

You shook your head. In fact, to you, the room was cold. Just as cold as the rest of the Fortress, save for the infirmary. It was the reason for the thermal lining in the pale blue overcoat of your uniform, the color that marked you as medical staff, as well as the reason for the thicker uniform fabric worn by the majority of the other general staff.

“No,” you said, and Wriothesley looked puzzled.

“Oh,” he muttered, puzzled, “I was warm earlier, but I’m starting to get… hot now. I don’t suppose that’s normal?”

You cracked a smile at that. “No, I don’t think so.”

A spell of silence passed before your mind snapped back to what he’d just said.

“You were feeling overly warm earlier? When did that start?”

Wriothesley furrowed his brows, considering your question before answering. He took another sip from his cup, then poured more of the contents of the thermos into it.

“This morning,” he said, “I can’t pinpoint exactly when it started, but it was maybe shortly after I had a cup of tea.”

You snorted, amused. “You realize how little that narrows it down, don’t you? You drink more tea than anyone I know, Your Grace. I need a measure of time, not cups of tea.”

He chuckled at that. “I apologize. I believe it was after Siegwinne delivered the tea she made for my head. Which is feeling much better, by the way. I think what I’ve been drinking while we’ve been chatting has helped kick the rest of it. I’m almost finished with the thermos.”

Suddenly, you made the connection.

Almost robotically, and with learned efficiency, you went over the contents that you’d smelled in the tea, along with their uses. Feverfew, maybe some lavender, and rosemary. All of those had various uses, though they all had one thing in common, which was pain relief. Finally, there was the rainbow rose. The petals and buds were used for medicinal purposes, and could be used as such, similarly to common red roses, for anything ranging from headaches to a sore throat.

Something was missing. Something was wrong. The scent itself had been off.

“The tea,” you said, “from before. Was it sweet?”

Wriothesley nodded, taking another gulp, and finally, pouring the last of the contents of the thermos into the cup. “This brew is sweeter, though.”

You stood, then reached for his teacup, bringing it to your nose and inhaling. You caught the same things as before, but as you mulled them over, something else clicked.

Siegwinne wouldn’t. Would she?

“It’s really hot,” Wriothesley said, and you could see the sweat beaded at his hairline, sticking the hair at his temples to his skin, cresting down his cheekbone.

You reached out, and when the back of your hand made contact with his burning forehead, he flinched, making a soft sound in surprise and alarm.

“Why is your skin so much colder than mine?”

Your skin wasn’t cold. In fact, your body was at an average temperature, kept warm by the layers of clothing you were wearing. By your own assessment, your hands were probably relatively warm. You frowned, reaching into your pocket and withdrawing your penlight, circling the desk to situate yourself closer to the Duke.

The way he was looking at you when you drew closer was strange. Almost hungry. Famished, ice blue hues swept over your form, and you watched as his hands, previously resting on the desk, folded in front of him, over his lap.

You moved closer, leaning halfway over to him, hand making contact with his face to tilt it towards you. He flinched at your touch, breath shuddering, and you studied his eyes closely before muttering a warning and shining your light into his face, instructing him to follow the light with his gaze.

“This isn’t… necessary,” he protested, weakly, and you ignored him. His pupils were blown wide, dark pits in the center of the sky blue of his irises.

“Mydriasis,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him as you switched off your light and pocketed it.

Your hand dropped from his face to just under where his jaw met his throat. You pushed aside the leather straps, just enough to access his pulse point, pressing two fingers to the spot. His heart was racing, quick and erratic, and you felt him shudder, breath heavy, his jaw setting tightly as your hands drifted across his skin, probing and searching. His skin was burning with heat, feverishly so, and coupled with the elevated heart rate, the blown pupils, and the way he seemed to flinch whenever you made contact with his skin directly, you could only make one conclusion.

“So,” you said, backing up to stand up straight, “this started after you had the first brew Siegwinne dropped off, yes?”

Wriothesley nodded. “It did.”

His voice. It had dropped several octaves in the time you’d been examining him, and you cursed the effect it had on you, coursing hot through your bloodstream. It felt so deeply unprofessional for a doctor to even think of her patient in the way the brief thoughts that fluttered through your mind suggested you do.

“Is it worse after this second batch?” You forced yourself to say.

He huffed a laugh. “You could say that.”

And it was then when you noticed, from where you were standing, that Wriothesley’s belt was undone. Rosy hues colored your cheeks as you yanked your gaze away.

“You need to tell me all of your symptoms,” you said, “spare no detail.”

Panic briefly flashed across his face as he crossed and uncrossed his legs.

“Hot,” he said, “I feel far too warm. Do I have a fever?”

You narrowed your eyes. He was purposely hiding the truth, but nonetheless, you answered.

“Yes,” you said, “but I believe it’s because your body is overheated and not because you're fighting an infection. I just said not to leave anything out, Your Grace, please tell me everything. As your doctor, I–”

“I’m… Archons, I don’t want to say it,” he paused, searching, almost frantically for something else to focus on. “What was in that tea?”

You swallowed, leaning back to rest against the desk.

“Herbs,” you said, “rosemary, feverfew, and lavender. All meant to help with pain and headaches. But I could also smell rainbow roses.”

Wriothesley brightened. “Yes, I thought that was what I tasted. It brings such a unique flavor to the table, don’t you agree?”

You fought a smile, endeared by him, but now was hardly the time. You needed to figure out what was wrong with him, not to discuss tea.

“Yes,” you said, “but it was strange. Too sweet. It only gets to that level when the powdered roots of a Sumeru rose are included alongside the powdered roots of a rainbow rose, in which case the combination can make–”

Oh. Oh.

As you were talking, it clicked into place. The scent, which you’d thought was much too sweet before, suddenly made sense. Sumeru rose must have been the final ingredient. It was flavorless when consumed, but smelled quite sweet. When combined with rainbow roses, the scent of the two grew overpoweringly saccharine. Unless diluted, it would almost resemble a syrup. If the rainbow rose petals were boiled alongside the powdered roots of the Sumeru rose, it could become a powerful medicine able to soothe a bad cough. But if the roots of both plants were powdered, the results were…

You cursed yourself for being so stupid. Of course, Siegwinne would see nothing wrong with this. Medicine was medicine, regardless of what the outcome of its ingestion spelled, so long as it got the desired result. To her, the suggestion of something unbecoming would be taken with great offense.

“‘Can make?’” Wriothesley supplied, and were already imagining the ways in which you were going to rip Siegwinne a new one.

“I need your symptoms. Now. I am a doctor, Your Grace, I promise I will be as non judgemental as possible, just please–”

“Damn it,” he interjected, face hidden in his hands, “I’m aroused.”

Anything you’d just been about to say left your mind, swept away by dread, because you knew what was happening.

Siegwinne was evil. You could already picture her expectant, innocent face, asking just how her little ‘experiment’ had gone, and it filled you with boiling rage.

Though, there was also the fact that she could simply be misinformed. Melusines had different reactions to some medicines than humans did, and it was equally possible that she simply thought that, if dosed with the tea, the Duke’s feelings for you, if he had any, would just be made more prominent. For her sake, you hoped it was the latter.

“Aroused,” you parroted, trying hard to stay professional and failing miserably, because this was unethical on so many levels, “tell me more about that.”

He made a strangled, startled sound. “You want to know more?”

You wanted to melt into the floor. “I need to know how strong the dose you’ve been given is.”

“Dose?!” He said, “of what?”

You refused to look at him. “When mixed together, the powdered roots of a Sumeru rose and a rainbow rose create a powerful aphrodisiac. I believe the first dose you received was a weaker version, and this one is much stronger.”

Silence followed as Wriothesley took in the information, then cleared his throat.

“Do you have an antidote?”

You raised your head to look at him properly. He looked almost haggard, the flush from his face creeping down his neck.

“There… kind of isn’t one.”

Wriothesley made a sound of frustration in the back of his throat, hands raising to card through his hand, and it was then that you noticed it. Now that his hands were no longer hiding it, you could see it, there, outlined against the dark fabric of his slacks.

He was hard.

A wave of suffocating, shameful arousal washed over you, and you forced yourself to look away, to ignore it.

You could only begin to imagine how he was feeling. The way you were feeling was nothing compared to him, his condition undoubtedly much more intense than your own physical reaction in response to his arousal, and you could feel his eyes on you as you scrambled to find a solution.

“What am I going to do then?” He asked, “it’s getting… I’m sorry, It’s getting rather unbearable. I tried everything. It’s impossible to ignore, and I know I can’t use my hands.”

You spared him a glance. “Why?”

“Because,” he said, “I was already trying that. It wasn’t enough.”

Oh. The unbuckled belt. His disheveled state when you’d walked in. He’d already been dealing with the effects of the first dose, or at least attempting to. The call of your name, as you were entering the office. The silence before he summoned you up to the second floor.

Fuck. He’d been thinking of you.

That had to be one of the hottest things you’d ever heard, professionalism be damned. Arousal rolled over you like a breaking wave, making you bite into your lower lip.

You knew what needed to happen. You knew the effects of this particular drug would take, and you knew that the only way to relieve his symptoms was either to very painfully wait it out or to… find relief. In this case, that entailed another person.

“You need to have sexual intercourse,” you said, “or you can wait it out.”

Wriothesley cleared his throat. “Wait it out,” he said, “right, I can do that. How long will that take?”

You twisted your hands together. “It… depends. You were likely given a pretty strong dose, even for someone your size. By my estimate, it would probably take several hours for it to work its way out of your system.”

He chuckled dryly, humorlessly. “Great.”

You cleared your throat. “Do you have someone I could… call? A girlfriend?”

He snorted, as if amused by the idea. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

That would make sense, you supposed, if he was calling out your name, and not the name of another woman.

“We both know what Siegwinne is doing,” Wriothesley said, “not just with this, but for the past few months. I can’t pretend I’m not fond of you, and neither of us can pretend there isn’t something between us.”

It was like the ground dropped out from under you at the sheer brazenness of his admission. You stared at him, thunderstruck.

“You… what?”

A cavalcade of thoughts crashed together as you rapidly attempted to process what he meant by that, but he barely gave you any time before he started speaking again.

“Look,” he said, “if you don’t feel the same, I can accept that. I’ll wait it out, and we can pretend this never even happened. But if you do, are you even… slightly interested in um… helping me? Because honestly, I feel like I’m about to explode.”

Heat coiled low in your stomach, threatening to overtake you as the lovely rasp of his voice made any of your logical thoughts close to meaningless. This was so vastly unprofessional. He was your boss, and you were his doctor. But something dangerously close to want was settling neatly over that space you usually reserved, that you looked to for reassurance about your professional standing with the Duke, to tell you that your feelings for him, ever growing, were improper.

And when you turned, watching his face, the way his hungry gaze traced your body through your uniform, something in you snapped, and you threw caution to the wind.

Head lowered, face flushed, you swallowed your rationality and any remaining hesitance you had left.

“I suppose,” you said, “I could use my hands.”

Wriothesley’s body jolted in anticipation, and his eyes betrayed his hesitance, darkened to steel blue with lust as he nodded once, then once more.

“Hands,” he repeated, “yes, hands are good. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”

You found it touching that he was at least trying to take your comfort into account, even when he was drowning in desire, and you took a slow step forward as he shifted, pulling his chair out enough to allow you room to situate yourself on the floor in front of him. As you took another step, he took his coat from the back of his chair and laid it at his feet, another gesture you appreciated.

Once you reached him, you knelt down between his thighs, and he watched you with burning eyes, flinching when your palms smoothed over his clothed thighs, jaw tightening. Medical curiosity echoed briefly in the back of your mind, taking note of just how sensitive the drug had made him to the simplest of touches, how he shivered as your nails grazed against the insides of his strong thighs.

Fuck, he was radiating heat. So much so that it was beginning to affect you, and you shifted back on your knees to remove the overcoat layer of your uniform, leaving you in the blouse and underskirt beneath it. Wriothesley’s eyes followed your motions with rapt attention, and when you moved forward again, settling, you felt him jolt when your palm met his leg once again.

This close up, you could see it, just how much he was straining against his trousers, his erection pressed against his zipper, and hesitantly, you cupped it in your hand.

The Duke gasped at your touch, fingers twitching where he’d curled them around the armrests of his chair, then tightening in a white-knuckled grip as you ever-so-gently squeezed. He twitched against your palm, and you removed his belt entirely, dropping it to the floor with a clatter before you were unfastening his button and zipper.

You palmed him through the fabric of his underwear, and you could already feel how big he was just from that. A sort of eagerness threaded its way into the burn of your arousal as you pushed away any remaining layers, pulling him free.

Fuck. He was so thick, and when you slowly wrapped your hand around him, your fingers just barely met. He was long, too, though you supposed it made sense for a man of his size. He was flushed red, painfully hard, and when you squeezed, you felt him twitch once more, his body tightening like a coiled spring. His hands tightened their grip on the armrests, flexing, and you felt his hips shift forward, unconsciously.

The first stroke made his head roll back, the sound he let out one of relief, just from that simple touch alone. It made you squirm in place, the sound of his voice and the stricken hitch of his breath causing the desperation of his arousal to bleed into your own building need. Precum was beaded at his tip, and you almost wanted to lean forward to lap it up, especially as more leaked out in response to the way you were stroking him in slow, even movements.

Heavy breath expelled through clenched teeth, followed by a low, low groan as your thumb found his tip, rubbing in slow circles, and it was then that you leaned forward, giving into temptation as your tongue pressed to the underside of the head of his cock in a slow lick.

“Oh,” he gasped, “oh, you don’t have to– oh, fuck.”

He cut himself off as you lapped at his slit, groaning through his teeth. He was already completely lost to pleasure as you pumped the base of him, and when you took him into your mouth, sucking on the tip, you heard him curse, a sound drawn out with a low, decadent groan.

“You said your hands– oh!”

Arousal was settling low and smoldering hot in the pit of your stomach, pooling between your thighs, and you whined as he whispered your name. You released him from your mouth, hands moving to rest on his thighs, and you dragged your tongue up and along the underside of his dick, gathering up any precum that had dribbled down. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his slacks, lips grazing the side of his shaft, and he repeated your name, louder, voice twisted with an urgency that made your blood sing.

It was embarrassing, just how quick you’d gotten like this, punch drunk on the reactions he gave you, the way his body reacted to your touch. It filled you with an addicting sort of power, one that threatened to overtake you if you weren’t careful. But right then, all you wanted was to add fuel to the ever growing fire. And, with the way he was breathing, rough and ragged and broken, you doubted he’d be opposed to that.

Your tongue flicked out, against the fold of skin just below his tip, and he tensed, crying out helplessly. When you finally took him in your mouth, fully, his head fell back against his chair, a feral groan tearing itself from his throat as your tongue pressed firm against him. Your hand moved from his leg to encircle the base of him again, squeezing and stroking in tandem with the slow bob of your head, and making the Duke gasp at the sensations.

When you sucked, just a little, Wriothesley babbled a string of curses, hips twitching up towards your mouth, and when you ducked down, bobbing your head, one of his hands flew from the armrest to the back of your head. You thought he’d push, or maybe take control, but all he did was lace his fingers into your hair, unmoving. His body shuddered under the roll of your tongue, under the press of your free hand to his stomach, creeping under the layers of clothing covering him, his skin fever hot against your own.

You took him deeper, and he twitched, hips jumping as you hollowed out your cheeks, drawing back before surging forward once again. You relaxed your jaw further as his hips bucked, and he muttered an apology, breathless and feverish. His head pitched back as you rubbed your thumb against his base, and he twitched again, sharply. When you looked up at him, through your lashes, he was gazing down at you with hooded, burning eyes. There was desperation in his cool blue hues, a wordless plea for anything, everything you could give him.

And with everything you had, you delivered.

You dropped your jaw, swallowing as much of him as you can, drinking in the sound of his breath shuddering, tapering off into a low moan. You sped up, gradually, and the sounds he made were so madly erotic that you found yourself aching to reach between your thighs and take care of your own growing need, but you could hardly focus on anything apart from taking him as deep as possible without choking. The sheer girth of him was enough to make your jaw sore, and when you moved forward again, he hit the back of your throat, making tears catch in your lashes.

“Fuck,” he groaned, drawing the word out with the sound, long and low and you kneened around him, making him curse and buck.

The hand not tangled in your hair raised to his face, balling tight, and he bit down on his fist, stifling his uncontrolled cries of ecstasy, eyes squeezing shut, brows pinching in concentration. He was trembling beneath your touches, twitching against your tongue, and when you moved back to suck on the tip, slow and indolent, the noise that left his mouth was nothing short of pornographic.

“Yeah,” he seethed, voice breathy, needy, “fuck, yeah, don’t stop.”

Not a chance in hell you were doing that. You clamped your thighs together, squeezing around nothing, and you knew you were soaked, evident in the way your panties were sticking to your skin, your thighs tacky with sweat and the soak of your own arousal. Your hand curled into a fist where it rested on his stomach, then flattening once more and flexing, searching for anything to anchor yourself. When you took him into your mouth once more, fully, he bucked his hips, groaning with no regard for volume. He was close, teetering on that edge, evident from the way his grip on your hair grew tighter, the way you could feel the muscles in his stomach tensing, and when you took him deep and sucked, he moaned, long and low, the sound almost forced from his fraying lungs. The sensitivity had to be maddening, you decided, and you’d use that to your full advantage.

Slowly, you pulled back, lapping at the leaking tip, hand working tirelessly at the base of him, and you barely had any warning before he tipped over the edge, back arching, breath all but leaving him. You shifted back in surprise, reflexively, and cum painted itself across your cheeks, the bridge of your nose, the seam of your lips. You closed your eyes in an attempt to keep anything from getting into them before you were hurrying to take him in your mouth, sealing your lips around him. His hand was fisting in your hair, and the sound he made, a low, breathless groan, was one of sheer, debauched relief.

You sucked, and he let out an obscene moan as you swallowed down his cum, hips jerking, the hand previously fisted between his teeth flattening against the desk, palm slamming down, just once, and you heard the rasp of wood under fingernails as he moved to grip the edge.

You slowed, working him through the intensity of his orgasm, as he twitched and throbbed under your touch, the sheer volume of cum surprising you. It leaked from your mouth, down your chin, and you did your best to swallow as much of it as you could. He slumped, boneless, against his chair, and when you moved to clean him with your tongue, you got to listen to the delightful sound of him gasping from oversensitivity.

“Fuck,” you heard him say, dazed and utterly breathless, “fuck.”

Slowly, you drew back, and his eyes followed you, breath hitching and gaze darkening as he took in your appearance. The sight of you, knelt before him, covered in his cum, was enough to make him groan aloud, cheeks flaring pink.

“Archons,” he said, “that has to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You let out a short, breathless chuckle.

“Do you have a rag or something?”

He nodded, once, and you stood on shaking legs before leaning sideways against the desk, and he pulled you closer, gently wiping your face clean with a tissue before depositing it in the trash situated under his desk.

“How do you feel?” You asked, and he huffed what may have been a laugh, nearly disbelieving.

“That was… Incredible. But I’m still, um…”

You crooked an eyebrow, watching him, expectantly.

He looked almost guilty. “I’m still hard.”

Oh. Oh.

You weren’t completely surprised. You didn’t know if a blowjob alone would be enough to work the drug from his system, and clearly, it wasn’t. Not that you minded. Your own arousal was a steady pulse below your skin, working like a second heartbeat. Desire coursed through you, and you pressed your thighs together once more. You wanted it. You already knew that. You wanted him.

“Alright,” you said, and what was left of any phantom of resolve, or the shreds of your until recently professional relationship with him all but vaporized, “sit back.”

“You don’t have to,” he started, the protest as fragile as glass, but you cut him off.

“I want to. I’ve… wanted this– you– for a while. So please, Your Grace– Wriothesley. I want it all. If you’ll have me.”

That was all it took. With a low, shuddering breath, a signal of his rapidly fraying restraint, he was yanking you forward and into his lap, his fingers working the buttons of your blouse open, hurriedly shucking it down your shoulders once undone. He made quick work of the ties fastening your skirt to your body, and you briefly shuffled off of him to drop it to the floor, along with your stockings, before resituating yourself on his lap.

“If I’ll have you?” He rumbled, the low, rough ombre of his voice sending prongs of lightning down your spine, and he yanked you closer, mouth dragging along the curve of your jaw.

“How could I possibly refuse?”

And then, for the first time, he was kissing you.

His lips were burning hot against yours, and your fingers found his hair, threading into messy locks, nails dragging against his scalp. He huffed a sigh into your lips as he nudged his tongue between them, tilting his head to slot his mouth more firmly against yours, and when his tongue dragged against yours, you moaned, low and soft, into his mouth. He kissed you slow and deep, almost a juxtaposition to the way he was feverishly running his hands, large and calloused, down your body, and when his fingers grazed over the patch of nerves just where your lowest rib met the curve of your waist, you shuddered in his hold.

You could taste the tea he’d been drinking on his tongue, cloyingly sweet, and it was almost too much when mixed with the heady, spiced smell of his cologne. Everything about him was overwhelming you in the best way possible, rendering you pliable and soft in his hands. Fuck, Wriothesley needed his own warning label. It was almost funny, really, just how riled up you were when he was the one who had been drugged with an aphrodisiac.

His teeth caught your lower lip as he drew back, tugging, before he was diving back in, hands planted firmly on your hips, and you let out a stuttering gasp as he pulled you forward, his bare cock pressing against your stomach.

The way he shuddered at the contact was enough to make your head spin with arousal, and when you shifted forward once more, just to see what he’d do, the grip on your hips grew to nearly bruising.

“You have no idea,” he husked, low and rough, the very threads of his sanity slipping from between his fingers, “how hard you’re making it to hold back.”

His words shot straight between your thighs, and you rolled your hips again, loving the way he stiffened. You felt his palm, dragging slowly up your body, then finally moving to cup your breast through the fabric of your bra, squeezing. You arched your chest into his touch, his name whisper soft on your lips.

He unfastened your bra after some fumbling, his coordination clearly beginning to become impacted by the drug. Once the garment was discarded, he barely gave you time to breathe, and you gasped when his head dipped down, mouth dragging across the valley of your breasts, skating along the side of one before his lips found one of your nipples, drawing it into the heat of his mouth.

He groaned at the taste of you, indulgent, as he laved his tongue over your flesh, hands sliding up to grip your waist, holding you in place, allowing him to explore the newly exposed skin with his mouth as much as he pleased. He was strong, his grip like iron, but it didn’t prevent you from slowly rocking your hips, rubbing your clothed cunt against his bare cock, and the way he groaned into your skin was a sound of delirious pleasure.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, almost disbelieving, “fuck, I’m a lucky man.”

His tender words made your heartbeat quicken, and you squeezed him closer, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. Your hands slid down his chest, fingers catching on the buttons of his shirt, and you quickly unfastened them, pushing the cloth away to smooth your palms over his bare skin. Gently, you pushed him back against the chair you were both situated in to look at him, and the sight before you was almost too much.

You already knew he was muscular, that much was obvious by just looking at him. But beneath his clothing, among thickly corded muscle was a patchwork of scarred flesh. You’d known about some scars; three of them crept up over the collar of his shirt, partially hidden by the straps he wore around his throat. There was also a collection of them on his arms, and of course, the one under his right eye. The ones that were hidden wove their way across his chest like a roadmap, some of them faint, and others more prominent, pale threads across his already pale skin. You laid your palm against him, tracing the one closest, and he shuddered, leaning into your touch, eyes fluttering closed. Your fingers skimmed down his chest, to his trim waist, and when your thumb caught in the deep v at his waist, he let out a soft grunt.

One of his hands moved from your waist to your hip, squeezing the plush flesh, then migrated to the apex of your thighs, and when his middle finger rubbed you through the sodden fabric of your panties, a high, breathy whine tore itself from your throat. He pressed harder, and your back arched, eyes falling half-lidded when he circled your clit through the fabric.

Then, without warning, he was pushing the cloth aside, and the feel of his calloused finger dragging across your entrance was enough to make you jerk in his hold.

He dipped his head, forehead making contact with your shoulder, and it took you a moment to realize he was watching himself, observing the sight of his hand between your legs. When your hips twitched, he used his opposite hand to hold you steady, effectively forcing you to stay in place as he did what he pleased with your body.

“Please,” you whispered, and that was all it took for him to tire of his teasing, sinking his finger inside you with a slow, indulgent movement.

You gasped, the sound bleeding into a moan when his finger curled inside of you, and he pushed you down, forcing you to take him to the knuckle. You whispered his name as he curled his finger again, and when he added a second finger, you squeezed your eyes shut. He groaned at the sound it made when he thrust his fingers into you, the lewd, embarrassing schlick of you around him, and you had to take a moment for your jumbled thoughts to catch up with you. His fingers were so much thicker than your own, not to mention longer, and he was hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. He thrust again, and you cried out, hips twitching, causing him to tighten his grip.

The curl of his fingers hit a spot inside of you that made you see stars, and when he felt the way it made you tighten around him, he began to abuse it with everything he had.

“Oh, Gods,” he groaned, “you’re so wet.”

You could do no more than gasp as his palm ground against your clit, and he held you there, forcing you to take it as he pressed in slow, maddening twists of his wrist before replacing his palm with his thumb.

It was arousing how easily he could manhandle you, and you had absolutely no desire to fight against him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. You were getting close, embarrassingly quickly, and you could do nothing to stop yourself from hurtling towards that end, walls throbbing and contracting around his fingers.

One of your hands shot between you, encircling his thick wrist, and you weren’t sure what the purpose of that was, either to push him deeper or simply to find purchase, but you did know that your desperation made his dick twitch where it was pressed between you, forcing him to stifle a groan.

You convulsed in his hold, hips jerking in his iron grip, his name on your lips, and with a final press of his thumb against your clit, you came hard around his fingers, biting down into his shoulder, and he worked you through it with slow thrusts that made stars and celestial bodies dance across your closed eyelids. You called his name, urgent and drawn out, yet high and needy, and he replied with a groan of his own, his free hand flying from where he was holding you in place to wrap around his own cock, palming it, thumbing the head, forcing a moan from between his teeth.

You slumped heavily against him as you fell from your high, and when he withdrew his fingers, you let out a shuddering breath, the sensitivity sending your thoughts into nonsense. Your head was spinning, thoughts in a daze, and all you could feel was him as he panted for breath.

Seconds of silence, only interrupted by heavy breathing, passed before you rose on unsteady legs to discard your panties before you were settling over him once more, and he watched with hazy eyes as you shifted forward, pressing your bare cunt against the underside of his shaft in a slow grind. His mouth fell open in a silent cry, brows pinching upwards, the sensitivity clearly unbearable. Suffocating, maddening lust worked its way through your bloodstream like a toxin, and you knew he needed more, from the way his hips rutted up in halfway thrusts as you rubbed against him.

“Fuck,” he choked, head falling back as the tip of his cock caught against you, “I wanna–”

You rocked forward, and his entire body jolted, tearing a groan from deep in his chest.

“What do you want?” You asked, breathless, and he lifted his head to look at you, the fog of desire in his eyes downright sinful.

He yanked you close, trapping his cock between your bodies, and into a frenzied kiss, his restraint all but gone as he unabashedly moaned at the feel of your skin.

“I want,” he husked, mouth pressing open kisses against your jaw, and he stopped, breath hot against your ear, “to be inside you.”

Your breath left you in a rush, and you drew him into a deep kiss, one he returned with vigor, hands smoothing down your body to grab at your hips, pressing you forward and against him once more, and when you pulled back, his eyes were wild with desperation and maddening lust.

“I don’t have protection,” he said, and you shook your head, dismissing him.

“I’m on birth control,” you said. Siegwinne made the tonic you took, something she supplied even to female inmates to help with lightening periods. But right now, it would be used for its intended purpose. Wriothesley nodded as he took this information in, seemingly relaxing a little.

“Please,” he mumbled, and you blinked, surprised to hear him beg for anything, but you were hardly going to deny him, “I’m going insane. I need you.”

You took a shuddering breath as you shifted up, using one hand to brace yourself as you took his cock in your hand, pressing him against you. You both cried out in unison at the feeling, even the slightest whisper of much needed friction enough to make you feel lightheaded, and you felt his hands grasp your hips, urging you downwards.

You sank down, slowly, and even the tip of him was a stretch, a dull ache blossoming as you pressed closer. Both hands landed on his shoulders, breath heavy, and he groaned lowly at the sensation.

“Slow,” he said, fighting for control, “c’mon, you can take me. Relax, deep breaths.”

You nodded, once, as you did as he instructed. Your knees shuffled as you pressed yourself down, met with more resistance, and forcing you to stop, gasping for air. He was only halfway in and you already felt full, stretched to accommodate him. It was unfamiliar and new, and you weren’t used to this, but his grip was tightening, and with a deep breath, you thrust down, taking the rest of him in one quick motion.

The sting of the stretch danced across your frayed nerves like a livewire, and you grit your teeth, head slumping forward as Wriothesley let out a long, low groan, both of his hands rushing to your hips, squeezing, keeping you in place.

A string of curses left his lips as his head fell back, and you could feel him throb inside of you, so deep you could hardly believe it, stuffed full to the brim.

“Just– oh, or you could just take it all. Fuck,” he quieted, breathing heavily, before speaking again, “are you– did that hurt you? Are you okay?”

The pain wasn’t horrible, and you hesitated to even call it pain. It was just an ache, dull and unpleasant, but you’d been wet enough that taking him hadn’t caused you any actual damage. You sat still as you adjusted, the aching burn of the stretch rapidly fading into something maddening, replaced by a desperate need.

“I’m fine,” you said, voice strained, “I’m okay.”

He nodded, once, before drawing you close, linking your mouth to his in a kiss far more gentle than you’d expected. You felt him throb, and when you squeezed, you got the pleasure of hearing him groan your name.

“You’re so tight. Please, please– yeah–”

His head fell back as you rocked your hips, lifting yourself up, only to sink back down, and when you repeated the action, he groaned helplessly, a string of almost nonsensical praises spilling past his lips, only serving to make you want to wreck him even further.

Sheer, uncontained relief was tangled inextricably with every sound he made, his hands squeezing your hips as you took him again, and again, and again, and oh fuck, you felt like you were being split open, impaling yourself repeatedly on his fat cock. The burn from before turned into pure ecstasy, the stretch of him inside of you intoxicating, and you buried your face into the crook of his neck as you moaned out his name. He wasn’t even bothering to stay quiet, not that it mattered, nobody could hear from outside the heavy office doors, which was an advantage right then.

You keened as his hips rose to meet you, the base of his dick rubbing against your clit. You sank down, taking him fully, ejecting any rational or sensical thought from your head, grinding in deep, easy circles, and you could feel blunt nails digging into your hips as he held you in place, totally drunk on pleasure.

His grip eased as you slid back up before taking him again, and he was kissing you frantically, one of his hands flattening against your breast, rolling the nipple under the rough pad of his thumb, making you whimper into his mouth.

“Faster,” he hissed, pulling back to meet your eyes, “faster, ride me faster.”

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, using them as leverage to move yourself faster, arching your back as the new speed made you see stars, and you whined, burning pleasure shooting through you at the grind of his cock against your clit.

“Good girl,” he groaned, dizzy with pleasure, “yeah, just like that.”

You could feel yourself getting close again, and you groaned his name as you swiveled your hips. Your thighs were beginning to burn with the exertion, even with just the short time you’d been moving at this pace, and when he felt you shudder, his hands found your waist, helping you along.

“That’s it, gorgeous,” Wriothesley panted, “that’s it, fuck me just like that.”

He was moving you with his own hands, easily, and you tried your best to move along with him, swiveling your hips whenever he bottomed out, and his head fell back in rapture, gasping for air.

Your orgasm was approaching fast, and you were helpless to its pull as you sped up, chasing after it frantically, the sound that filtered through your clenched teeth one of desperation. You felt like you were losing yourself, and when you sank your teeth into the soft flesh of his throat, an unrestrained groan fell past his lips, his hips bucking up with enough force to make you see stars. When his thumb pressed against your clit, you tipped over the edge hard, stilling as you clung to him, sobbing his name into the curve of his shoulder.

You tightened to a vice grip around him, throbbing as your climax crashed over you, and you heard him growl at the sensation, hips bucking, still working his cock up into your messy cunt. Before you could even start to come down from your high, you were moving, and the frigid steel of the floor met your back, rapidly heating from contact with your skin. One of his hands gripped at your leg, tucking beneath your knee and holding it up, and then he was driving forwards, hips slapping against yours as he filled you once more.

He paused, shaken by the intensity of the sensation, before his head pitched forward, breath heavy, and he was thrusting again with a renewed vigor, nails digging into your flesh.

His name was the only thing on your tongue as he fucked you, so good it made you feel like your head was emptying itself out. His mouth found yours as he leaned forward, supporting his weight on his forearm, laid beside your head, giving him more freedom to do what he pleased with his hips. The base of his dick was rubbing against your clit once again, and you whined, squirming beneath him, but he wasn’t letting up.

“Wriothesley,” you gasped, head fuzzy, completely cock drunk as he broke the kiss to mouth at your neck, “deeper.”

He groaned, low and indulgent, and when his hips snapped forward, filling you completely, your back arched against his chest.

“Deeper?” he repeated, the baritone timbre of his voice lowered to an uneven bass, “you want it deeper? That what you want, gorgeous?”

“Please,” you sobbed, “please, give it to me.”

A low, rough chuckle was the only warning you got before he was thrusting forward, hips flush against yours, and he repeated the action, again, and again, and again, making you bite your lip to keep from wailing at the intensity of it all.

“Oh, fuck,” you heard him gasp, stricken, indulgent, “fuck, yeah, that’s it.”

It felt so good you could hardly think, and when you babbled his name, lust drunk and fucked dumb, he pressed soft kisses along the column of your throat, almost like a reward, a thank you for letting him do this to you.

His pace was growing sloppy, but he showed no signs of letting up, and in the back of your mind, you figured was probably just going to keep on going, even if he came. It was rapidly beginning to become far too much for you, and you moaned, high and breathy, when he rammed himself all the way in, grinding his hips before pulling out less than a quarter of the way, then thrusting back in. He was so deep, and you writhed under him, fingernails scraping against the floor before you were clinging to him. He was moaning, low and breathless, the way he was moving causing you to helplessly spasm around him, forcing you violently over the edge when the base of him rubbed just right against your aching clit.

You could feel tears, beading at your lashline as the sensitivity became maddening, but he wasn’t letting up, even as you arched and bucked and wailed beneath him, the intensity of your climax rendering you incoherent. He knew exactly what he was doing, just how to push every button he needed to, and you were halfway between deliriously begging for more or sobbing at the sensitivity.

A string of curses left his lips as he came, gushing hot and thick inside of you, but he wasn’t even pausing, even as his groans tapered into breathy moans from the way he was overstimulating himself. You could feel him, throbbing, pulsing inside of you as he filled you, uncaring of the way his cum dripped out of you. The sound of it, combined with the slap of skin against skin, was unbelievably lewd, but you hardly had the wherewithal to even think, let alone be any kind of embarrassed. If anything, it only drove you higher.

“Fuck,” Wrothesley cursed, low and broken, “I need it again, please, again– fuck!”

He shifted back, grabbing at your legs and pressing them down beside you, and you thanked the Archons you were flexible as he continued, leaning forward once he had you in the position he liked and taking your body with abandon. He was hardly bothering to hold back his strength as he hammered into you, and your head fell back against the floor with a soft thud, eyes rolling back.

You’d never felt like this before in your life. Your legs were growing sore, and your back was going to be stiff from the way he was fucking you into the floor, but you didn’t care, not as you got to listen to the way he was saying your name like a prayer, how he was caressing and kissing your body like it was sacred. Exhaustion was a heavy weight against the blurred edges of your mind, and all you could do was lay there and take it as he chased after what he so desperately needed.

It didn’t take long for him to grow close again, and he whispered your name as his end quickly approached. You yanked him into a kiss, which he returned with a groan of ecstasy, and then, with a final, deep, shuddering thrust, he was cumming. The force of it made his entire body tremble, and the sound he made was one of satiated, relieved bliss as he emptied himself out inside of you, the heat of him almost suffocating, burning you from the inside out.

His hips jerked with unconscious movements and spasms as he drifted down from the staggering height of his climax, his breath heavy, and he slumped, weakened, his face pressing into the crook of your neck. His mouth pressed lazy kisses against your skin, and you lifted a hand to run it through his hair as he finally, finally began to grow soft inside of you.

The two of you lay there, still joined, for what felt like hours, bathing in each other’s warmth and the afterglow of it all. His breath fanned across your skin, feather soft as he lifted his head to join your lips together, before he slowly pulled out, rolling off of you, dazed.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, voice hoarse, and you arched your back, flexing your body. You winced at the soreness. You were undoubtedly going to have bruises from how hard he had been gripping you.

“I’m fine,” you said, “are you–”

He snorted.

“Yeah,” he said, “that uh… that did the trick.”

You laughed, a little breathlessly. You didn’t know how you’d be able to stand after that, genuinely. Your legs felt like jelly, and a deep, all consuming exhaustion was settling over your senses.

“You think it’s gone?” You asked, “the drug, I mean.”

He looked at you sidelong. “I don’t feel uncontrollably horny anymore, so I’d say so.”

Wriothesley sat up, flexing his shoulders. He tucked himself back into his pants, and then he was gathering you into his arms, rising to his feet.

“What are you doing?” You asked, and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Taking you to the bath,” he said, “I have a bathtub, in my living quarters.”

You relaxed, settling into his arms. “Oh.”

His living quarters were attached to the office, through a door you’d somehow never noticed before. You were far too tired to take in any of the details of it, instead opting to close your eyes and rest your head on the nearest comfortable spot on Wriothesley’s chest, which he didn’t seem to mind at all.

He set you in the tub, and after the water was run, you were surprised to see him climbing in along with you. It wasn’t unwelcome, and seeing him completely bare was hardly a bad thing, and you were pleasantly happy when he began to gently wash you, and once he was finished, he tugged you back, settling you against his chest.

The bathroom was silent, save for the musical sound of running water, and you allowed yourself to close your eyes, settling into the comfortable atmosphere.

“I meant what I said, you know,” Wriothesley said, and you opened your eyes to look up at him.

“What?” You asked.

“About being fond of you,” he said, “you’re… an amazing woman. I want–”

You leaned up, kissing him, and effectively giving him an answer to his thoughts. He sighed into the kiss, content, one large hand rising to cup your face, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone.

“I guess Siegwinne succeeded,” you said, and Wriothesley smiled, amused.

“I guess she did.”

You stayed in the bath much longer than you expected, until the water became cold, and once that happened, Wriothesley whisked you off to the bed, tucking you under the covers after supplying you with one of his shirts to wear. You smiled when he joined you, now dressed in a pair of sweats, chest left bare, and curled up beside you, tucking you close to his chest.

Sleep came quickly after the lights were switched off, the exhaustion from before spreading over you like wildfire.

And, when he thought you were asleep, you felt him, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head, his body relaxing against yours.

BONUS:

You were agonizingly sore. Your stiff muscles had stiff muscles, and while Wriothesley was sheepish, and apologetic, and promised he’d treat you to dinner to make it up (which you would be taking him up on), it made walking back to the infirmary the next morning a little difficult.

What was even worse was the look on Siegwinne’s face when you entered, ruby red eyes knowing as she watched you approach.

“How’s the duke?” She asked, and you handed her the accursed thermos without saying anything.

“Fine,” you said, slumping down into your chair with a sigh.

She smiled. “Good. Are you seeing him again tonight?”

You turned, brows furrowed. “How did you know about that?”

She shrugged, unbothered. “Someone saw you leaving his office this morning. I suppose what I put in the tea worked a little too well.”

You stared at her. “Siegwinne, you put an aphrodisiac in his tea.”

She paused, concerned. “No I didn’t. I put a supplement to further enhance his desire for you. If we’re being frank, it’s closer to a love potion. Just to get rid of any inhibitions. It’s medicine. But it isn’t meant to cause anything like–”

You rolled back your sore shoulders. “Yeah, well, it did.”

Her face went pale, but she briefly covered it up. “I… suppose I miscalculated.”

You laughed, then. Really laughed. It startled Siegwinne, who stared at you with growing concern.

“It’s fine,” you said, “whatever, Siegwinne. At least you don’t have to keep going with trying to set us up. Focus your energy on making ‘love potions’ that aren’t aphrodisiacs in humans, okay?”

She flushed, quiet, then nodded, once, her eyes taking on a determined look. You were beginning to regret saying anything.

With a smile, and a good natured nod, she put her hands on her hips, ever the dutiful nurse.

“I’ll get right on that.”

Fin.

125 notes · View notes

theotherbuckley · 20 hours

Text

I'm Not Going Anywhere

bucktommy ficlet | 1.4K | G | read on ao3

The first time Evan spends the night over, Tommy panics. He panics when he wakes up in the morning, sun seeping through the gaps of the blinds. He expects to wake to a warm body wrapped around his front, Evan drooling onto his chest adorably, the way he was positioned when they went to sleep. Instead, he wakes up cold. He frowns, his eyes still closed as he lets out a groggy grumble, reaching out and fumbling with the sheets trying to locate his boyfriend. He slaps around at nothing but cold sheets. That’s when his eyes snap open and the panic seeps in. Because Evan’s not there. Hasn’t been for a while, as the coldness of the space beside him suggests.

Tommy should have known better. He doesn’t have many, if any, people who seem to want to stick around for him. His parents always thought he was more hassle than he was worth. He was constantly tossed between them during the divorce, neither one seeming too interested in keeping him for any longer than their agreement stipulated. His first girlfriend didn’t love him, which he supposes was only fair since he could never love her either. That didn’t make it hurt any less when she gave up and left. He caught his first boyfriend cheating on him when he came home early from a shift. They’d just lost a kid and his captain had sent him home. He had wanted to come home to his boyfriend, cuddle on the couch, watch some dumb romcom to cheer himself up. Instead he came home in a sleep-deprived daze, not registering the sounds coming from inside the apartment until it was too late. He didn’t have it in him to do anything more than let the tears stream down from his blood shot eyes. His boyfriend and his— whatever— left without even an apology. It was then that Tommy told himself he’d never let himself fall for something that wasn’t real.

The point is that Tommy should really know better. He thought maybe Evan was different, that he would want to stick around. But it had only been their first night together to have Evan scared off and running for the door. Tommy sighs, rolling onto his back and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, blinking up at the ceiling. He debates spending the day moping in bed, but his bladder forces him to get up. After relieving himself he patters back to his bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and trying to figure out where the hell he went wrong. Did he come on too strong? Did he do something? Or was there just something wrong with him?

A knock at the doorway startles him out of his spiral and he turns to see a half dressed Evan leaning against the frame. His hair is sticking out in every which direction, full of unkempt light brown curls. He looks ridiculously adorable standing there in his boxers and what looks to be one of Tommy’s shirts. It hangs loosely around Evan’s body, it fits Evan well actually, but it’s very different to the normally snug, tight fitting shirts that Evan normally wears, the ones whose buttons seem to be constantly fighting for their life. The sight of Evan in his clothing sends a wave of heat through his body, a warmth settling somewhere deep in his chest, chasing away the negative spiral of thoughts in his mind.

“Thought I heard you get up,” Evan says, grinning at Tommy who’s still stuck staring at the beautiful man in front of him. “I—I made breakfast, I hope you don’t mind,” Evan continues, ducking his head as a dusting of red blooms across his cheeks and down his neck.

Tommy smiles at him then, a wide smile that has his eyes crinkling in the corner. He gets up, walking over towards Evan and placing his fingers gently under his chin, lifting softly so that Evan has to look at him. “You made me breakfast?” Tommy repeats softly, unable to hide the awe in his voice.

Evan tries to duck his head again but Tommy doesn’t remove his hand from his chin.

“Yeah. Is that— is that okay?” He looks so shy and nervous and that simply won’t do. Tommy leans forward, presses a chaste kiss to Evan’s lips, once, twice, three times because he simply can’t resist. Evan’s cheeks now almost match the colour of his birthmark. Tommy thinks he may just be the cutest man to ever exist.

“More than okay, thank you,” Tommy says, his voice cracking lightly with sleep. Evan beams at him, standing up straighter, feeling much more confident now. Tommy wraps his arms around Evan’s waist, pulling him flush against him and tucking his head into the curve of his shoulder, unable to stop himself from seeking a little bit more comfort from his boyfriend.

“You okay?” Evan asks when Tommy finally pulls back. He’s always so caring, always able to sense when something’s not quite right.

Tommy nods, “Better now,” he says sincerely.

Evan tilts his head a silent question to elaborate if he chooses. Tommy ducks his head this time. “I just—” Tommy shakes his head, “didn’t know where you went,” he finishes.

Evan’s expression drops and his eyes widen as the pieces click together. He’s quick to apologise, “I’m so sorry Tommy, I—I didn’t think! I just wanted to do something nice for you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you wake up, I’m so—” Tommy cuts off his rambling with a sweet kiss to his lips.

“I know, baby,” Tommy says gently, the pet name slipping out.

Evan blushes the prettiest shade of pink and he smiles. “Good, cause—cause I’m not going anywhere, just so you know,” he says confidently. “Unless— unless you get sick of me,” Evan adds, insecurely seeping out.

“Don’t think that’s possible,” Tommy admits.

“Good, good. Come on I made pancakes,” Evan says, dragging Tommy by the arm towards the kitchen. He stops suddenly and Tommy crashes into the back of him. He raises his eyebrow at him quizzically. Evan simply smiles, hand coming up to rest on the back of his head and Tommy finds himself being pulled into a much deeper kiss, a startled moan leaves his lips but it only seems to spur Evan on more. Evan finally pulls back for air, placing another two chaste kisses to his lips before deeming that to be good enough. “Good morning,” he says in a way that has butterflies blooming in his stomach. He thought he was too old to feel this way but with Evan he can’t help but feel like a teenager with a crush.

“Mmm, good morning indeed,” Tommy murmurs, unable to resist pulling Evan back in for another quick peck.

Evan chuckles, a sound that Tommy could happily listen to on repeat. “Come on, the food will get cold.”

Tommy follows him out to the kitchen, eyes widening when he sees the food laid out. He didn’t even know he had that much food in his pantry. “You made this all for me?�� Tommy says, voice heavy with emotion.

“Of course,” Evan replies simply, settling himself into one of the seats at the kitchen island. “I hope that’s alright,” he says again, and Tommy doesn’t miss the way Evan looks to him for assurance.

Tommy smiles at him, pulling out the chair beside Evan. He places a soft kiss to Evan’s cheek, before sitting himself down. “Thank you,” Tommy says.

The breakfast is one of the best that Tommy has had in a while. He can’t help but moan after he takes his first bite. He looks up at Evan who’s practically scoffing away at his pancakes in a way that Tommy should not find as adorable as he does. He lets out a chuckle, unable to look away from his boyfriend.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Evan says when he notices Tommy staring. He brings his hands to his face, wiping at it in an attempt to get off something that isn’t even there.

Tommy shakes his head fondly. “No, no, just admiring the view,” he says, smiling at Evan, relishing in the way Evan immediately goes pink. Tommy loves how easy it is to make him blush, how easy praise affects him. He makes sure to take note of that for later. “You look good in my clothes,” he tells Evan, who only seems to get redder. Yeah, Tommy thinks, he could get used to this.

#911 abc #911 fandom #evan buck buckley #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 fic #purple writes #bucktommy #tevan #911 fanfic

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slutt4ellie · 1 day

Text

Hearts Over Hierarchy

PT2 - Love In Bloom

Loser!Ellie x Popular!Reader

PART 1

Do opposites really attract?

Summery : After Ellie asked you to go to the cabin with her friends, and you full heartedly agreed, you started to realize that maybe a friendship wasn’t the only thing the both of you had..

Warnings -> Alcohol usage / The smut is hereeeee / Fingering / Oral / Scissoring /Miscommunication (they don’t talk abt wtf their relationship is) / Implied jealously! / tiny tiny bit of smau / Obviously NSFW!! / (Lmk if I missed anything else)

WC: 5.3k

(Not proofread!)

DAILY CLICK 🇵🇸

It’s been exactly one week since Ellie invited you to go join her, and her friends in the cabin which is few hours out.

You were a bit nervous. You just blamed it on the fact that you were meeting two new people, and the fact it was just going to be the 4 of you. Alone. In the middle of nowhere.

Ellie kept reminding you they were nice, and you literally have nothing to be nervous about. But your nerves were still constantly running.

You were just on packing the last few items you needed to last your 3 day trip but before your thought process could even continue there was a few knocks.

“Y-yeah hold up!” You say walking over to the door opening it slightly. Once your are met with blue ones, you know who it is.

Emily..

Things with Emily have been so fucking awkward since she decided to give her unwanted opinion about Ellie. And you didn’t even understand why!

She was never mean, at least it was fucking rare. But when it came to Ellie, everything suddenly became so uncomfortable and unwarranted.

It’s like she was constantly trying to persuade your opinions on her, just making mini side comments. Small sighs. It was little things but you noticed it.

And Emily must have noticed the tension between the two of you because she nervously spoke.

“H-hey..” She cleared her throat noticing how her voice sounded small and scared. After she clears it her voice finally becomes more full..Either way her eyes aren’t shifting from the floor.

You talked back looking at her hands and how they’re fidgeting. “Hey..”

Emily finally made eye contact with you once again. “Are you mad at me..?”

“W-what no?” It was a white lie. To say Emily’s behaviours weren’t getting annoying was bullshit, you knew it, and she did too.

“I-I just know you’re going away with Ellie and her friends- I just don’t want us to be in bad terms.” Emily says, there’s this look in her eye which is almost unbearable..maybe sympathy, or her just pleading for forgiveness. Regardless it’s a look that you don’t see often.

“Em. We won’t be on bad terms.” You shake your head then look at her. “I promise..”

She bites her lip almost if something is resting on her tongue. You don’t want to push her to say whatever is on her mind, but subconsciously you feel like you should.

But before you can even make decision your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Your hand grabs it and your eyes shortly trail to look down.

Emily looks down at your phone too. “She here?”

You quickly clear your throat and look back up at her, you feel shitty. It almost feels like your ditching Emily but whatever she wanted to say can probably wait.

“Y-yeah she’s here!” You smile watching Emily slowly nod.

“Okay I can help you take down your suitcase.” Emily smiles causing you to shake your head and chuckle. “Em it’s okay, I got it”

“No! No I want to?” She shakes her head grabbing it.

You don’t protest it this time which causes her to smile, and once the two of you are downstairs and outside the door, you see the parked car.

There’s a man with black-ish hair, he’s sat right in the driver seat, there’s a girl beside him. You quickly take in her pretty features, and brunette hair, which is styled in a messy bun.

“That them?” Emily ask looking at you which you reply with a simple nod. “Yeah I believe..!”

Emily just smiles putting down your suitcase stepping over to give you a tight hug.

“I’ll see you in a few days?” Emily pulls back, her blue eyes not tearing away from yours. After she finishes her sentence you smile and nod. “Yep, few days!”

She then moves a loose strand behind your ear. “There’s a party when you get back by the way? Everyone is gonna be there, soooo you’re definitely going” The way Emily said it almost sounded like a command, it had a chuckle leave your lips.

“Why does that sound like your forcing me!” You smile lightly shoving her shoulder. “Cause I am! You’re coming to the party!” Emily says tilting her head.

“Okay whatever! Byeeee!” you say to Emily giving her a wave as you watch her figure go back into the sorority house.

Ellie ending up seeing that whole interaction between you and Emily. Her face was practically screwed to the window, when Emily moved that strand from your face, she almost instantly saw how you were smiling and giggling with her.

It gave Ellie unwanted feelings of jealousy which she couldn’t even understand. She doesn’t like you like that. You guys are just friends..

“So are they dating?” Jesse ask looking back at Ellie.

Ellie obviously wasn’t paying attention so he lightly shoves her shoulder.

“W-what man!” Ellie says annoyed. Pushing his hand off her shoulder.

“Are they dating?” He repeats himself, now that Ellie’s attention is finally off of you..

“T-the f-fuck I don’t know!? I haven’t asked?” Ellie says rubbing her eye not knowing what else to say.

“Who’s the girl?” Dina now chirps in looking back at Ellie.

“I-uh I don’t know?” Ellie feels stupid now realizing how much she doesn’t know about this mystery girl. She thought i’d be weird to ask you about her, and if Ellie’s being honest with herself, she doesn’t even know if she wants the answer?

“And you haven’t asked if she’s dating anyone?” Jesse chuckles looking back at Ellie.

“No because that’s weird! We’re friends man!” Ellie says quickly shaking her head, not even letting the thought breath before she turns it down.

Ellies eyes fall back on you. She sees how your walking towards the car and she hops out of the back seat super fast.

It doesn’t take long before you’re opening the trunk and Ellie’s met outside the car with you. “Hey!” Ellie smiles helping you put the suitcase in the trunk.

You look at her green eyes noticing how they’re trailing all over your face. “Hi!” Ellie slightly clears her throat. Giving you a chance to give her a tight lipped smile and reply with a “Hellooo!”

Ellie smiles and looks at you. Her eyes keep on shifting between yours. “Um I- I downloaded like some movies so we can watch them on the drive? You don’t have to though! Jus-“

You smile and nudge her shoulder lightly “You always think so deep into things, obviously I wanna watch movies” You say before closing the trunk. And thank god you did, because say you didn’t, you would have seen Ellie’s bright red face instantly noticing how flustered that one fucking sentence made her.

You quickly take notice of the two extra people in the car, taking a short deep breath which Ellie immediately notices. “Dina and Jesse are niceee! Just relax” Ellie’s says, now being the one to nudge your shoulder.

You do appreciate her reassuring words and you nod. “I’m super relaxed Williams!” Ellie chuckles shaking her head, putting up her hand’s defensively which earns a chuckle from you. “Right!”

You quickly enter the back seat and the first few minutes are filled with introductions. Dina and Jesse are super nice. Ellie was right. Not that you’d admit that to her though!

They say how Ellie’s mentioned you quite a bit which prompts Ellie’s face to turn beet red out of embarrassment. But this time you did notice it, and you fully teased her about it, you truly thought it was cute funny! Despite Ellie’s denial.

Even though you teased Ellie about it you always found ways to sneak her into the in conversation. And half the time it was accidental!..

Ellie stayed denying the whole subject, saying she barley mentions you, and how Dina and Jesse were being “dramatic!” It caused you to laugh but you dropped it.

Ellie sat in the middle seat which was ironic because she could have had more space by just sitting on the opposite end.

It would have allowed the both of you to at least have on spot away from each other. Even when you brought it up she just shook her head.

She smiled and argued that you wouldn’t be able to see her phone if she sat one seat away from you. Which to give her the benefit, that point was actually fair.

So here you are now shoulder to shoulder watching the original Jurassic Park. Which Ellie practically begged to watch despite your protest. It unfortunately didn’t take long till you finally agreed.

“Dude this shit is so unrealistic!” You say looking up from the screen facing her green eyes. You saying this causes her to instantly shake her head. “No it’s not?! It’s cool!”

“Barley!” You laugh following up. “The fucking dinosaurs don’t look real!”

“It was made in the 90s??!” Ellie argues. But you didn’t want to hear it. The movies visual effects were genuinely painful to watch.

“Okay! Still I could’ve made real looking dinosaurs!” You chuckle, which leads Ellie to smile. “Oh yeah! Totally!” Ellie shakes her head.

Your eyes fall back on the screen having some final chuckles leave your parted lips. When Ellie looks up at the front seat she sees Dina and Jesse giving each a quick “You notice it too?” Kinda look which Ellie clears her throat to finally get them to stop.

She didn’t want you to look up and notice the fact they we’re practically giving each other morse code through blinks. Dina and Jesse were being far from fucking discreet.

Ellie’s eyes look back down at the phone screen her eyes feeling slightly heavy. She yawns, and just like that she was out.

Ellie wakes up to Dina tapping her knee lightly. Her eyes flutter open, and after a few seconds Ellie finally noticed this slight weight and warmth planted on her shoulder.

And before she could even process the waking up feeling she sees your head placed conventionally right on her shoulder. Your hand was also laid flat on top of hers. Ellie felt the heat rise to her cheeks once again and Dina chuckles.

Now Ellie doesn’t waist time and she quickly pulls her hand away. She doesn’t feel like getting teased from Dina any longer and she doesn’t want you to wake up and see the weird fucking position the two of you were in.

“Sleep alright?” Jesse chuckles tilting his head and looking at your sleeping body matched with closed eyes right on Ellie’s shoulder.

“Shut up!” Ellie says in a whispered yelled straight at him before gently shaking you.

Your voice comes out light and quiet, having an inaudible sound which Ellie recognizes as a little “Hmm”

Ellie tried not to panic considering your head was still firmly placed on her shoulder. “W-we’re here” Ellie says gently shaking you again.

Your eyes finally open and when you notice you fell asleep right on Ellie’s shoulder your body shoots up mumbling a few sorry’s.

Ellie shakes her head fast. “N-no you’re good! I-I fell asleep too.”

Her words do offer you some comfort but either way you feel extremely embarrassed about the whole situation. You’re just praying she drops it, and you’ll do the same.

Your head quickly moves to the window getting a view of the cabin that you’re going to be spending the next 3 days at.

“It’s nice right?” Ellie says watching as Dina and Jesse get out walking straight to the trunk. “Yeah really nice.” You smile looking at Ellie.

Ellie gets out of her seat and you take that as a signal to do the exact same.

When Jesses eyes meets Ellie’s he gives her a smirk, he knows something is going on the two of you, at least that’s what Ellie’s assuming. It’s like he’s talking through his eyes or something.

Ellie just shakes her head and grabs your suitcase first disregarding her own.. Once she sees you get out she quickly hands it to you. “I can show your where you’ll sleep in a second?”

You just nod and make your way up the stairs. The cabin was beautiful, when you walked in it had a full open concept and huge windows giving you a full view of the forest..

Since the windows were huge you could see everything. The scenery was beautiful, it also helped since there were a few couches you could sit on. Ellie must have walked in shortly after you because you hear her voice softly talk.

“I can show you the room you’re sleeping in.” Ellie smiles as you turn around in face her. “Yeah, yeah that sounds good.”

After Ellie showed you where you’d be sleeping the day quickly faded into night. You, Dina, Jesse, and Ellie we’re all sitting on the couch a few shots coursing through all of you, it had everyone a bit more loose.

The night was filled with laughs. A few drinking games, and everything felt nice. You don’t even know how it happened, or why it was happening, but as the night went on you and Ellie both got closer. Not romantic or anything crazy, like kissing or some shit? Just more along the lines of sitting beside each other in a way most people wouldn’t particularly call “platonic”.

Along the lines of knee to knee, with Ellie’s arm over your shoulder. But then again some friendships have a more physical aspect?..And that’s all you were willing to blame it on as of now.

Just a physical friendship?

You also learned when Ellie got drunk she got bolddd, which was a huge personality switch. At least in your eyes. You obviously thought this because she’s always fiddling with at least two fingers and studying every sentence before she even says it. Not to mention the stuttering should would constantly go through.

And as the night went on, and all 4 of you got more drunk Dina decided to spit out an amazing idea, which was going swimming!

Of course all of you having alcohol in your system so everyone didn’t even hesitate quickly agreeing. You and Ellie ran to your separate bedrooms and Dina and Jesse ran to their shared room.

It didn’t take long till everyone was in their bathing suits. But your eyes just went straight to Ellie, it led you to basically disregard everyone else in the room.

She had bathing suit shorts on, with a bikini styled top. When your eyes fell on hers and she saw how you observing her, insecurities rushed through her head simply because she couldn’t read what the fuck your eyes meant.

Like she couldn’t tell if it was disappointment or something different? But when she saw your face slowly bring out a tight lipped smile she knew it was fine.

You were smiling at her..

The four of you all rushed outside going down the steps which promptly led to the doc, your hand now intertwined with Ellie’s.

And to be fair It was on instinct! Since you guys were stumbling on your own feet, Ellie momentarily decided it would probably be safer if you held each others hands.

Which was super responsible!

So she quickly reached out her hand to yours.

And you didn’t hesitate to grab it back.

Sure maybe you guys didn’t need to have your fingers literally interviewed with each other! But! It offered more…grip!

“You’re jumping in!” Ellie says laughing while still holding onto your hand.

“No i’m not!” You quickly shake your head looking at straight at her.

“No?” Ellie’s hands find your shoulder and you guys are going straight to the edge of the doc.

“E-Ellie stop!” You quickly yell, your hands trailing straight to her waist in an attempt not to fall.

Ellie just chuckles, because despite your efforts she knows you’re going into the water.

And she was right.

Because as soon as your foot hit the edge of the doc you were a goner, the cold water hit your whole body instantly which covered you head to toe in goosebumps.

You quickly rose above the water and you see Ellie practically on the floor because she’s laughing so hard. “What the fuck!” You yell while laughing, still desperately trying to keep on the annoyed facade. Which was already failing when you saw Ellie smiling and laughing.

“What!” Ellie laughs looking at you. “I was just helping you in!”

You quickly shake your head and splash her. “Yeah fuck you!”

And after that moment it only took a solid 5 seconds before Ellie jumps in now splashing you..

And in no time all 4 of you guys are in the water splashing and swimming around each other.

You quickly swim up to Ellie smiling “Thank you for inviting me.” You clear your throat watching as her green eyes fall on your lips.

“I-uh know this is like your thing with your friends and shit so..-” You nod trying to show your thanks.

“Well you are my friend?” Ellie’s eyes meet yours again. She’s almost refusing to break eye contact. Which you can’t even understand why it makes you nervous. “Y-yeah well, I was talking about like a thing with you, Dina, and Jesse?”

Ellie sorta shrugs and then nods. “K well now you?” You chuckle looking at her “Huh?”

“Now your on the list? Me, Dina, Jesse, and you?” She says it like it’s obvious. Like she can’t even understand why you didn’t automatically get that.

Your gaze goes behind Ellie’s shoulder and your eyes are met with Jesse and Dina making out.

Ellie didn’t understand why your eyes were now off hers and she turns her head to see what your gaze was focused on.

Ellie turns back to you and laughs shaking her head. “Let’s leave??” She’s says asking you first, which you nod.

“Yep!” You smile getting out of the water and saying mini goodbyes to Jesse and Dina before taking her hand once again.

You notice how the feeling of being drunk was still pretty apparent. And you knew you still wanted to be close to Ellie. But you fully blamed that on being drunk. You and Ellie were literally only friends! Nothing else?

“I-I’m gonna have a shower, get the lake water off of me!” Ellie smiles, she doesn’t wanna be the first one to let go of your hands. She has this feeling with you, one that she can’t ignore, even if she wants to.

After Ellie talks you look at your fingers intertwined together giving your head a slight nod, slowly letting go of her hand. “Okay- me too..”

As you walk out of the bathroom, your hair now fresh, your body now clean and feeling a bit more sober then before, you hear faint giggles which you already know is Jesse and Dina.

But before your thoughts can even continue you see Ellie with a towel ruffling it in her wet hair. She’s now in a fresh pair of grey sweatpants and a white tee.

Since she didn’t notice you, you decided to talk first. “Hey..” Ellie stops ruffling her hair in the towel and she smiles at you. You can tell she’s also sobered up slightly because her bold persona is now faded. “H-hey”

“You going to bed?” You ask looking at her before following up. “I think Jesse and Dina are gonna be a bit busy?” You give her a short chuckle. “Gross” Ellie wrinkles her nose with an over exaggerated disgust look.

“I-yeah maybe? Are you going to bed” Ellie ask looking back at you. “No, probably not right now..?” You shake your head looking at her feeling a thump form in your throat, which you get out by clearing your throat.

“Wanna just hang out in my room” Ellie doesn’t even know how the fuck she managed to get that out without stuttering but she did! And that’s all that mattered right now.

“Y-yeah..!” You say looking at her shortly talking again. “But i’m not watching another fucking Jurassic Park movie Ellie!” You say walking into her bedroom, when she doesn’t laugh you turn around.

“I-is that girl, is she your girlfriend.” Ellie says out of nervousness. It was so random, but at this point she felt like she almost needed to know, she needed to know if she was reading into this thing between the two of you.

She knows she has a answer locked in her mind. At least the one she hopes it is, but either way. The way that girl hugged you, moved the loose strand behind your ear. It all felt so fucking real, so romantic.

“What- wait who??” You say obviously not following Ellie’s train of thought.

“The girl with the blue eyes. The one who liked- knocked on the door that night?”

Fuck..was talking about Emily?

You would have never really associated romantic feelings with Emily. Let alone Emily being your girlfriend? Sure you two were close, but you two were friends. And since you’ve been friends with her so long? You couldn’t really understand why this was was a topic of discussion. You wanted to know why she even thought that.

“E-Emily- What no? Why do you even?-“ But before you can get a word out Ellie talks

“F-fuck I don’t know?? I mean the way she looks at you?” Ellie shakes her head, maybe she was the one reading into it? But Ellie knows what look Emily constantly gives you. It could easily be deciphered as love. Anyone with eyes could probably see that?

Despite your two pair of working eye balls you couldn’t fuckig see it, so you denied.

“Me and Emily were just friends! We’ve been friends for awhile- that’s it.” Now Ellie’s eyes are unreadable. It’s like she’s deciding something. But before you can even think about what that look might mean. “I swe-“

Ellie’s lips were suddenly on yours.

It’s like she’s worried someone might interrupt, like when the two of you almost kissed the first time.

Your hands go on Ellie’s cheek. The kisses are needy and messy. Ellie’s making little noises which are going straight into your mouth.

She moves your back against the door, her hands finding a comfortable spot on your waist. Ellie’s lips plant right on your neck. She’s kissing and sucking which is 100% going to leave marks for the morning.

But right now you don’t even care. It’s just you and her.

Ellie’s hands go to the hem of your shirt and she pulls back from the crook of your neck. “Can I..?” Her voice comes out in a faint whisper having you nod just as quick as she says it.

Ellie also doesn’t hesitate as her hands reach the bottom of your shirt hems and she pulls them up and over your head.

Ellie’s whole mind feels frozen. Because sure she’s hooked up with a few girls..but they were awkward and meaningless.

When it comes to you, she’s scared she’ll fuck it up or something. “C-can I touch you..?” Ellie ask clearing her throat.

You never really had someone ask how Ellie did. When you hooked up with other girls they were so fast. Just wanting to quickly fuck and get it over with.

But with Ellie she actually fucking cared, so you nodded and the two of you move to the bed.

Ellie kisses you neck and her hand moves to the waistband of your shorts. Her hand is going in slow repeatitipve circles on your clothed clit which earns moans from you..

“Baby..Jesse and Dina- they might hear?”

The way baby slipped so easy off Ellie’s tongue just made you more fucking turned on. Her touching you over clothes wasn’t enough right now.

You needed more.

So you took it into your own hands and grabbed Ellie’s hand leading it down.

Ellie understands what you want and she complies smiling. Ellie’s eyes trail yours, she notices how your eyes screwed shut and how the back of your hand was pushing against your mouth to muffle the moans.

You open your eyes and tap Ellie’s waist lightly as she lays on her side. “Y-wearing to much El..” You moan out and look at Ellie.

And you didn’t have to tell her twice because Ellie uses her free hand and takes off her shirt so she’s in a sports bra and sweatpants.

But Ellie doesn’t stop there, she follows up by taking off her sweat pants then bra so now she’s literally just in her boxers.

You can’t help but let out a chuckle. You’ve never seen Ellie like this.

Ellie then smiles looking at you before kissing you again mumbling a short “What..”

You smile and shake your head, pulling back from the kiss. You also decide to move a few loose strands out of her face. “I didn’t say anything..?”

The way Ellie’s chest pushes against yours. How she refuses to break the kiss, swallowing your moans as she plays with your folds. Even though this is so foreign for the both of you.

It feels right.

Ellie’s hand’s travel to your bra quickly taking it off and just like that her lips are wrapped around your nipple licking the sensitive bud.

Your moans are faltered by Ellie’s index finger going straight into your mouth.

Your tongue is going all around Ellie’s finger sucking it and licking it.

Ellie’s starts to kiss down your collarbone, then chest, passing your bellybutton and waist, her fingers moving to the waistline of your pyjama shorts.

You notice how Ellie looks up at you again, subconsciously looking for permission, she doesn’t wanna accidentally step over a line regardless of how far the two of you have already gone..

As you see her greens eyes meet yours, you nod. You feel your shorts sliding down your thighs as Ellie kisses down them. “This okay baby..” She ask again getting extra clarification.

For someone who’s a stuttering mess in normal situations Ellie knows how to keep herself calm, at least that’s what you thought.

Ellie’s mind feels like it’s going thousands of miles per hour right now and she literally can’t stop it. She just has a better poker face.

Her red face is basically talking for how the fuck she feels right now. You two are so different yet you’re the one moaning for her.

You’re the one who’s wet for her.

And Ellie doesn’t wanna fucking mess this up.

The room is filled with muffled moans and pants from both ends, you start to feel as Ellie’s lips latch onto your throbbing clit.

Every noise you make equally turns on Ellie. She’s so concentrated, eyes closed, a sweat band now prominent on her forehead.

“Right there” You moan, your hand grabs a fistful of Ellie’s hair shoving her nose, lips, and tongue deeper inside your pussy.

Ellie slides her index, then middle inside your dripping cunt. Causing a loud moan to come from you mouth.

Now you’re just internally praying Jesse and Dina are heavy sleepers because if they’d head ever fucking moan leaving your body right now.

Ellie’s hands are pulling you in by your outer thighs causing a shit ton more moans to leave your mouth. “F-fuck”

As Ellie’s fingers slip in and out your overboard. It didn’t last long till you felt a huge sense of euphoria course through your veins.

Fuck you came so hard you could have sworn you saw white.

Then as Ellie’s lips came smashing back on to yours and you taste yourself on her lips you moan more.

“Baby shh” Ellie says kissing you again.

But right now all you wanted was Ellie, you wanted to feel her, in the way she felt you. So you pull down her boxers and place her thighs so they straddle yours.

Your clits now lining up which causes a pretty loud moan from Ellie..

Her body falls limp on yours, smashing her lips on you once again, basically refusing to break it kiss. Despite the fact her clit is rubbing on yours, and she can feel her self going overboard she doesn’t pull back once from the kiss. She just keeps chasing it.

You two just swallow each others moans fighting the urge not to cum.

“F-fuck baby..” Ellie moans again. “I’m so close”Ellie says against your lips.

After you hear the words “I’m so close” leave Ellie’s lips you grab her hips rocking them back and forth aggressively.

Louder and more desperate moans fill the room, both of you saying mini praises.

And that was probably the thing that sent her over the edge because in no time after you literally only called her hot, there was a loud moan followed by warm liquid leaking down your cunt.

“F-fuck” Ellie stutters out of breath. All her body weight now on you, kissing your jaw lightly

You’re also out of breath. And you can hardly believe what the fuck happened.

Because sure you just slept with Ellie, came two times, but fuck was she good.

Everything Ellie did, it just felt better then the last. You didn’t want to lose her. It felt like you couldn’t.

The way you woke up felt extremely unexpected. You feel a warm body pressed beside you, legs tangled and a pair of lips rested on your neck.

Fucking Ellie.

Her hair is now out of her normal ponytail which you hardly fucking see considering it’s only tied up. Her face is still red even though her eyes are closed and her breathing pattern is steady and slow. Which means she’s definitely still sleeping.

But when you least except it, her eyes are open and she smiles, the events of last night are dawning on her too. She doesn’t know what last night meant, but she’s happy..

“Hi..” Ellie smiles looking straight at you.

“Hi..” You say moving a loose strand of her hair and giving her a light kiss on her cheek. You also didn’t know what the fuck this was. You liked Ellie but maybe last night was a different idea for her.

More of a friends with benefits situation.

“Last night..I mean it was?” Ellie says looking at you.

“Was fun.” You smile nodding, Ellie was happy you didn’t say it was a mistake? But saying it was fun…that also felt odd? She doesn’t really know what she wanted you to say but that wasn’t really it.

You then sit up grabbing your shirt and shorts which conveniently were on your side of the bed. Ellie’s eyes trail your back and your side profile.

She then takes this as a signal to do the same. After both of you are clothed it finally hits how fucking awkward this whole situation was.

I mean you two were sorta drunk last night? At least that’s what you wanna blame it on, knowing damn well you were sober enough to realize what fuck you were doing.

“I don’t want it to be weird?” Ellie spit out practically reading your thoughts. “Like because of last night I mean”

“N-no me neither?” You instantly shake your head looking straight at Ellie. “I a-also don’t don’t want it to be weird.

Ellie doesn’t know what led her to lean in and kiss you after you finished you sentence but she did.

You also kiss her back, your hands trailing to the back of her neck, having Ellie take it as a sign it won’t be awkward.

“Breakfast?” You say looking at Ellie giving her a smile.

Ellie ties her hair in the fucking signature half up half down ponytail, shortly nodding “Yeah let’s goo”

Ellie grabs your hand taking you downstairs.

Dina’s and Jesses attention immediately shifts looking at your guys intertwined fingers then back at each other.

“We miss something orrr?” Jesse chuckles his eyes going up and down. Watching your intertwined hands then face.

“No!” Ellie shakes her head going to the kitchen island and sitting down neither of you wanting to let go of each other.

“Righttt??” Dina chuckles. “Last night then? You guys have fun?” Jesse says after Dina finishes her sentence.

Ellie shakes her head smiling, then denying anything that Jesse brought up. “Fuckkk off!!” Ellie smiles looking back at you.

Despite the teasing, whatever this was between you and Ellie. You were happy. And that’s all that really mattered.

————————————————————

AN -> OKAY! I know how I said I was gonna do angst this chapter but when I hit 5k words I had to tap out 😭

I didn’t feel like anyone would particularly wanna read an 8k fic so I stopped it early!

Regardless I have so much plans for the next chapter which will 100% contain angst and drama so please stick around! 🙏

I wanna just briefly mention I don’t really like writing smut because I feel like I’m bad at it? So sorry if anything is weird, too fast, or whatever idk?

I hoped you enjoyed reading and expect a new part maybe in a week? (again don’t hold be to that because i’m working on part 3 for Fated Hearts Start With Fire!) WHICH U SHOULD READ! 😘

Taglist : @bready101 @onlinelesbo @amberputh @seraphicsentences @a-little-bit-of-everybody @zoehxnji @cyb3rd0nguh @graviewaviee @i-feel-violated @elliesexual @macaroni676

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