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#there's another chapter already in the works!
contact-guy · 2 days
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Part 7, the final comic in my SIGN OF THE FOUR chapter. (Part one), (part two), (part three), (part four), (part five), (part six).
The context for this conversation is: Holmes has had no work from Scotland Yard due to rumors about his and Watson's relationship. He responded to this with excessive cocaine use and then working himself unhealthy on the one case that came along; Mary Morstan's. Meanwhile, Watson befriended Mary, who is also gay, and realized that a lavender marriage with her could make him and Holmes safe, as well as granting her more freedom. Watson has not yet told Holmes of his decision.
(This is part of the Watsons sketchbook series!)
canon scene under the cut, which is achingly poignant in its own right:
“Well, and there is the end of our little drama,” I remarked, after we had set some time smoking in silence. “I fear that it may be the last investigation in which I shall have the chance of studying your methods. Miss Morstan has done me the honour to accept me as a husband in prospective.”
He gave a most dismal groan. “I feared as much,” said he. “I really cannot congratulate you.”
I was a little hurt. “Have you any reason to be dissatisfied with my choice?” I asked.
“Not at all. I think she is one of the most charming young ladies I ever met, and might have been most useful in such work as we have been doing. She had a decided genius that way: witness the way in which she preserved that Agra plan from all the other papers of her father. But love is an emotional thing, and whatever is emotional is opposed to that true cold reason which I place above all things. I should never marry myself, lest I bias my judgment.”
“I trust,” said I, laughing, “that my judgment may survive the ordeal. But you look weary.”
“Yes, the reaction is already upon me. I shall be as limp as a rag for a week.”
“Strange,” said I, “how terms of what in another man I should call laziness alternate with your fits of splendid energy and vigour.”
“Yes,” he answered, “there are in me the makings of a very fine loafer and also of a pretty spry sort of fellow. I often think of those lines of old Goethe,—
Schade dass die Natur nur einen Mensch aus Dir schuf, Denn zum würdigen Mann war und zum Schelmen der Stoff.
“By the way, à propos of this Norwood business, you see that they had, as I surmised, a confederate in the house, who could be none other than Lal Rao, the butler: so Jones actually has the undivided honour of having caught one fish in his great haul.”
“The division seems rather unfair,” I remarked. “You have done all the work in this business. I get a wife out of it, Jones gets the credit, pray what remains for you?”
“For me,” said Sherlock Holmes, “there still remains the cocaine-bottle.” And he stretched his long white hand up for it.
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blacktabbygames · 2 days
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Something I've been curious about were you guys always going to plan the stranger having her own special ending before you got to the final stranger? Or was that something you decided after you finalize the stranger?
A lot of the narrative design work on Slay the Princess came from following things to what felt like their logical conclusions, and letting the pieces fall into place as they clicked. Given the looping nature of the game, it made sense for the "final" encounter to be with the "first" Princess, taking you right back to where you started and asking you to make the same choice you had to make at the very beginning of the game, but now with all of the context that comes with playing through the game. The Stranger stuck out like a sore thumb there, since if you do her route first, she's the first Princess you meet, rather than Chapter 1's Knife!Princess or NoKnife!Princess. So it only made sense to give her a special ending, which also balances out how short/linear her route is overall (even if, in terms of game logic, she had far and away the most complicated chapter to code.) The Unknown Together ending in general was another piece of the puzzle that just happened to fall into place near the end. In the earliest draft of that ending sequence (in my brain only) you would arrive at the final cabin knife-already-in-hand, since you'd only get there by resisting the Shifting Mound. But as we started actively working on that part of the script, it felt more compelling to set up that final situation as a more direct mirror of Chapter One.
And because we wanted it to be a reflection of the beginning of the game, it made sense that whether or not you take the blade with you downstairs should be a huge decision. Almost a little test for our players — did you realize by the end of your runs that the knife doesn't, like the Hero suggests, "always seem to give us more options than not?"
But needing to include that choice raised the question of, "well, what happens, metaphysically, if you don't bring the knife?" And the answer that was most compelling to us was "we don't know, and the fact that we don't know is what makes the choice so compelling." One of those bits where it's wild to think about how late an addition that ending was, since I think it's vitally important to the themes of the story. If the nature of death is a major thematic through-line of Slay the Princess, The Unknown Together is the only ending that truly confronts its terrifying mysteries, and it does so by abandoning fear on the floor of that final cabin.
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unboundprompts · 11 hours
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Can you give tips for slow burn/developing romance? I’m good at writing couples once they’re already in love, but when they have a crush on each other or them slowly developing feelings I don’t really know how to do
How to Write a Slow Burn Romance
-> writersdigest.com
-> reddit.com
The Growing Relationship
Make sure the reasons your characters don't get together right away makes sense. It doesn't need to be realistic, but it needs to be believable.
Focus on how their relationship grows. Spend time on the meeting, the getting to know each other, the subtle moments and big moments that draw them to each other. There will be obstacles, arguments, and conflicts to solve.
Make the development of the relationship natural for the characters.
Start as far back in their relationship as you can. This will allow the longest amount of time for their relationship to be exploired in the story. If it fits, you can start when they first meet. Of course, if it doesn't fit your story, you can start later in their relationship.
Build the Tension
You want your readers to be on the edge of their seats when it comes to your character's relationship. They should be screaming "just kiss already!"
Add near-miss moments. An almost kiss interrupted by a phone call. A hug that lasts just a moment too long.
Add little indications of feelings. Soft Smiles. Winking. The brush of a finger. Lingering glances.
Pining. Give insights into your character's thoughts. Constant thoughts about the other person. Butterflies when they think about them. The anticipation.
Slow Burn, Not Slow Pace
There needs to be other plot points happening while the romantic tension is building. Your characters should be dealing with other situations while they are also pining after each other.
Outside Forces
Slowburns are not always endless pining and dancing around one another. Sometimes, there are outside forces that are keeping characters apart when they already realize that the feelings are mutual.
Examples: Distance between the characters, health/mental health reasons, job/work complications, family dynamics, character goals, characters are on two different sides of a conflict, etc.
If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.
I also have a Patreon! Become a member to gain access to a Member's Only Community where you can chat and message other members and myself. Also gain access to my personal writing, which includes completed short stories, chapters from novels in progress, as well as completed scenes.
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likedovesinthewindd · 17 hours
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out of service; part nine of sore loser ⋆ masterlist
summary: you're between a rock and a hard place | content/warning: art's redemption chapter let's go!!! explicit language, inaccuracies about university and tennis, angst, arguing, injuries (and descriptions of said inguries), patrick barely features in this one | tags: @midwestprincesss
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"I'm going to be frank with you. You've been failing your classes."
You were picking at the skin on your fingers with a passion, taking another deep breath to try and control the tears you could feel already pooling in your eyes. "You're also aware of your scholarship's terms and conditions," your professor continued, "so you are aware that if you do bad academically, you could lose the scholarship?"
The torture on your hands had seized and moved on to you now picking the soft pieces of lint from your sweatpants. "Can you look at me, please?"
Your professor called your name softly, urging you to look at her. When you did, she spared you a sympathetic smile. "You are aware that you could lose your scholarship, right?" she asked again. You only nodded, the thought causing a knot form in your already dry throat. "Worst case scenario is they make you drop tennis so that you have more time to work," she continued. "I talked to your coach and—"
"You can't make me drop tennis. Please," you spoke up for the first time since you've entered her class. She sighed, biting at the inside of her cheek and giving you a small nod. "I understand you don't want to give that up," she tried, "and I know how hard you've worked to get where you are now. But something's got to give. It's either you step up and work on your grades, or your coach has to take you out of the team."
"I'll work harder, I promise. Just give me some time, please," you pleaded. Your professor only nodded with a placating look. "You're a smart girl," she stated, "you've just been a bit unorganized lately. You need to find your balance again."
The walk from her class to your dorm felt like a thousand miles, your mind swarming with thoughts. You always knew how to keep your head above water when it came to balancing the different aspects of your life, but recently, everything felt off kilter. It had now come to the choice of one or the other, and you didn't want to make that decision.
You made a detour to one of the practice courts, finding Art and one of his teammates practicing. You sat on one of the benches, hands rubbing over your legs as you watched them play. After a while, he bid his friend goodbye before making his way to you, plopping down next to you.
"Do you want me to practice with you?" he asked. You shook your head. "I didn't come to practice. I just came to clear my head," you said quietly, looking over at him. The small tresses of hair sticking out the front of his backward cap were slightly damp with sweat, a light pink dusting his cheeks as he took a few deep breaths.
"You alright?" he asked, watching as you slowly nodded. "Do you want me to go?" he asked, and you shook your head no. You clearly had a lot on your mind, but he decided to leave you, the two of you sitting in silence.
★ ⊹ ˚.
You drew in a deep breath, tightening your grip on your racket as you eyed your opponent. She had a smirk on her face as she bounced the ball in her hand before lifting her racket. You braced yourself, finding your footing. You were tired. Tired of the sun sitting idle above your head, tired of barely gaining any points. tired of this smug bitch looking down at you and tired of not winning.
It's a flurry of movement after she serves, the both of you playing like your life depended on it. On the pavillion, Art was watching attentively as the two of you moved. He could tell you were exhausted, your form becoming sloppy and unfocused as you desperately tried to keep up. He could see the desperation in your eyes, the frustration, and the need to win. You were starting to make dumb mistakes, and it was costing you.
It happened so fast, the one moment your opponent was hitting the ball with a force that had you scrambling to try and keep up, and the next, you were losing your footing, stumbling forward with nothing but an outstretched hand to break your fall.
You had tried to shake it off, tell yourself and everyone else you were fine, but as soon as the pain shot through your wrist and up your arm, you were writhing. The pain was almost blinding, soon turning to a dull ache that numb every other part of your body. It hurt so much, and you couldn't do anything but cry; cry because it hurt, because you had embarrassed yourself, because you couldn't play. All you could hear were the gasps of the crowd and the people approaching you in hurried steps.
★ ⊹ ˚.
You felt so overstimulated. The tears have dried on your cheeks and left tacky tracks on your face. Your eyes were red and swollen and hurt every time you blinked. The cheap plastic of the examination bed squeaked with every slight movement and prompted you to sit still, your right hand laid carefully on a pillow in your lap while the other one was being held in Art's much warmer hand, his thumb rubbing over the top of your hand carefully.
You looked down at your hand, at the dark blues and purples blooming around your swollen wrist as the dull ache settled bone-deep. You sniffled, tears once again settling in your eyes. Art's grip on your hand tightened as he brought your uninjured hand to his lips, placing a light kiss to the top of your knuckles. He looked at you apologetically as he saw the hopeless look on your face.
"I dunno what happened," you stated with a broken voice, watching as he continued placing kisses to your hand. "It's okay," he said, but you only shook your head.
The nurse returned with a fresh icepack, carefully placing it on your wrist before she looked at you forlornly. "I think your wrist might be broken, dear," she whispered as she placed a hand on your shoulder. "We're gonna have to get you to a hospital for an X-ray just to be sure."
You only nodded, watching as she walked away to call your parents. You looked over at Art, who still had your hand clutched in his, an expression matching yours on his face.
You had left the hospital late that night with a cast, a bag of painkillers and Art still by your side looking equally exhausted. "You didn't have to stay, by the way. I could've asked my roommate for a ride," you said watching as he opened the door to his car for you. "I don't mind," was all he said, waiting for you to get in.
When finally got back to your dorm, you thanked him, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. When his arms wrapped themselves around you, it was like everything came crashing down, a whole day's exhaustion and pain building up until there was no way but for it to pour out.
You found yourself sobbing in his arms, your face leaving wet tracks on his shirt as he held you tighter. You pulled away begrudgingly, taking your hand and rubbing angrily at your wet face. "I'm sorry," you said, looking down at the wet marks left on his shirt rather than his face. "It's okay," he said, his hand holding the side of your face and making you look up at him. "You're gonna be okay," he tried.
You sighed deeply, biting the inside of your cheek. "I fucked everything up," you said. He tried to calm you down, but you were already rambling. "What if I can't play anymore?" you asked rhetorically, "I'll lose everything. What am I supposed to tell my parents?"
"You're gonna be fine," Art repeated. "How do you know that?" you asked, frustrated at his calm demeanor. The angry tears made it hard for you to see, so you rubbed across your face again. "I know because I'm gonna be here," he answered, gently prying your hand from your face and looking into your reddening eyes. "Tennis isn't everything."
"It is to me," you answered quickly. "This is my only shot. It's all I have." Art's hand still held onto yours, feeling the way you squeezed it tighter. "That's not true—"
"Tell me I'm still good," you interrupted. "That I'll still be good," you pleaded. He said your name in a soft, placating voice. "Please," you begged. He sighed. "You're still good," he said softly, pulling you closely and placing a kiss to your forehead. "You're still good," he repeated against your skin.
You relished his soft touch and the feeling of being in his embrace, your good hand bringing his face down to yours to meet in a kiss. An unspoken desperation and gratitude passed from your lips to his and as if he could feel it, he hadn't tried stopping you, tongue greedily yet softly licking inside your mouth.
His mouth left yours, carefully grabbing your right hand and bringing it to his mouth, kissing the inside of your wrist over the hard plaster of the cast. Your mouth hung slightly open in a search of a breath as your left hand held the side of his face before his lips met yours once again.
★ ⊹ ˚.
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Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 7
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I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS
❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 
All OC Characters belong to me
Prequel (All Falls Down)
Series Masterlist
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“Soo.” Elijah trailed off as he and Kiyana were driving to the restaurant. “That was your ex-husband huh?” 
“Yeah.” She said “I’m so sorry about that..” She apologized again. “He wasn’t supposed to be there.” she paused. “Him or his cousin.”  Elijah laughed. 
“It’s no big deal. Trust me. I’ve dealt with worse from my ex-wife. Her brothers are still on my ass to this day.” He chuckled again. 
“Oh you were married?” Kiyana asked, perplexed because he never mentioned it.
“Is that a problem?” Now Elijah was confused. Not even 10 minutes ago, he thought he was about to have a melee with her ex husband and his cousin. He cut his eyes over to her before looking back at the road when she didn’t answer. “Ki?” 
“No, it’s not a problem.” She shrugged. “I just thought you would mention it by now.” She paused, and turned her head to look at him. “It’s not a big deal though.” 
“You sure?” Elijah asked as he pulled up to a red light, now turning his full attention to her. “I don’t wanna start us off on the wrong foot.” 
“Ohh, there’s an us?” She teased with a smile, feeling her cheeks heat up. 
“There’s definitely an us. I normally have a rule that I don’t date coworkers but, it’s just something about you Kiyana.” There goes them butterflies again. She thought as their faces inched closer. He cupped her jaw and Kiyana felt her heart rate spike. Just as their lips were about to connect, the car behind them honked causing the both of them to jump away from each other. 
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“Fuck!” Josh cursed as he watched Kiyana get into Elijah’s car and drive off. This was exactly what he was afraid of. He stomped past Joe and into his former home. “Samara!” He called out, softly though, still mindful of his sleeping children.  “Mara?!” He called out again, rolling his eyes as she strolled out of the kitchen munching on his children’s Doritos. 
“What?” 
“What restaurant did they go to?” He huffed when she shrugged and pushed past him to sit on the couch. “Samara ,please.” Josh begged. “I know I fucked up by doin' what I did. But shit, I can’t just give up and go let her fall in love with someone else. I won’t be able to take it. So please, just tell me what restaurant they went to.” 
Samara felt her hatred for Josh slip away. While they were never close she still considered him a friend and one thing about Samara was that she hated seeing her friends hurting. “Fine.” She sighed out. “But you have to answer my question first.”  Josh nodded immediately. 
“Aight, whatever you wanna know.” 
“Why did you do it? What made you cheat on Kiyana?”  oh Josh gulped.  “Josh?” 
“I don’t know. “ He said and Samara sucked her teeth. “I- we were arguing about her not listening to the doctor about not stressing. I just wanted her and Kairo to be okay.” He walked over and sat down on the couch next to her and put his head in his hands.  “You know the same thing happened when she was pregnant with Kehlani.” Neither one of them heard Joe as she entered the house and stood right by the entrance to the living room, listening to their conversation. “Her auntie died and..” He blew out a breath. “She wouldn’t relax, she wouldn’t just stop and not stress. I already have one dead kid. I didn’t want another.” 
Samara nodded, remembering how Kiyana blamed herself for years for the death of Kehlani. “So that’s why you cheated?” Josh scoffed and shook his head. 
“Hell no. I just- I wanted to vent. Everyone around me kept talking about how Kiyana felt and..” He paused and sniffled, wiping his eyes. “I- it’s selfish but damn, Kenneth was like a dad to me too. When Kish and my mom were going through it Ken and Ms Imani welcomed me with open arms. I just wanted to vent to someone who wouldn’t say oh well it’s Kiyana’s dad. And Shanté was there at the right  time. It wasn’t my intention to start the affair, I just wanted someone to talk to and things went too far.” 
Joe let out a sigh and closed his eyes. He couldn’t intervene with Josh and Kiyana nomore. He had already done enough damage by sleeping with Kiyana and truth be told, Josh was his favorite cousin and even if Joe thought that Kiyana should be with him, he didn’t want to hurt his cousin more than he already did. 
“The Grand Marlin.” Samara said after a minute of silence between her and Josh. “He took her to The Grand Marlin.” 
Josh pulled Samara in for a hug and thanked her. “Do not fuck this up again Joshua. I swear on my life I will make sure she fucks every single one of your family members.” Josh sucked his teeth and pushed her away from him. 
“Damn Samara.” She shrugged and pointed towards the front door.
“Go, before she falls in love with him or something.”  Josh nodded and rushed towards the front door, only to be stopped by Joe blocking it. 
“Uce come-on. Don’t do this to me right now. You proved your point already.”  Joe shook his head and put his hands up defensively. 
“I just wanted to apologize to you Josh. You my family and I should have never took it there with your wife.” Josh sucked his teeth. 
“You don’t mean that shit. What you want me to go get my wife back so you can fuck her again.” Josh felt the urge to pummel Joe so he took a deep breath. “ Getcho’ big ass out my way Joseph.” 
“Josh, this is the most serious I've been with you in years. I’m sorry.” Josh narrowed his eyes at Joe. Not believing him in the slightest. But he couldn’t worry about Joe right now, right now he needed to get to Kiyana. 
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“Thank you for bringing me here.” Kiyana smiled over at Elijah as he pulled out her chair for her. “I’ve never been here before.” 
“No problem Ms. Jackson. I plan to give you a lot of first time experiences” He winked back as the waiter came over and asked for their drink orders. 
Elijah kept a smile on Kiyana’s face all throughout dinner. And if Kiyana was being honest, this was the best date she had been on in years. 
Her weekly ‘dates’ with Josh were just them going out to dinner, nothing special or spectacular. He stopped making her feel special a long time ago and she had just gone with the flow because she loved him. 
“Hey that’s your ex-husband right?” Elijah’s voice broke her out of her thoughts and she turned her head in the direction he was pointing to see Josh arguing with the maitre’d and pointing in her direction. 
“Oh my god.” She muttered, covering her face with her hands. “This is so embarrassing. Just give me two minutes please.” She said, biting her lip as she stood from the table and walked over to where Josh was making an ass out of himself. 
“All you had to do was let me through dickhead.” He sneered at the man, who was only trying to do his job. 
“Joshua.” Kiyana hissed, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and dragging him outside of the restaurant. “What are you doing?!” 
“Tryna stop you from making a mistake. I’m so fucking sorry Key.” He whispered, cupping her face in his hands.  “About everything. About Shanté.” He swallowed hard when he saw her flinch at Shanté’s name. “About not sticking up for you at J’s party. About everything.” He repeated and Kiyana started shaking her head. 
“No.” She laughed as tears started to well up in her eyes. “You can’t just come here and ruin my date. You have no right Joshua.” She pushed him away from her. “You cheated on me, there is no apologizing for that, not after the shit I put up with from you and your family for years.” 
“Kiyana please - “ 
“Go home Joshua.” She muttered, blinking her tears away. She was done crying over him. “I’m trying to move on, you need to do the same.” Josh felt as if Kiyana just reached into his chest and pulled his heart out, as she gave him one last look before turning and walking back into the restaurant to continue her date. Leaving him heartbroken and empty. 
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🙃
Y'all think Josh can actually win her back or y'all think Kiyana is over him and nothing her can do will fix or change anything. ?
❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 
A/N: Sorry this took two weeks 😭. I was just feeling a bit stuck with this chapter. Hopefully chapter 8 won't take another 2 weeks.
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mrsjellymunson · 20 hours
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The Biology Tutor | Extra Credits 02
Extra Credits 02: FRENCH
Lesson 1: Female Anatomy | Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Extra Credits 01: Communication Skills
Pairing: virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader
Series summary: Eddie’s failing Biology class, so you decide to offer two different styles of tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.
Chapter summary: You give Eddie a French lesson.
WC: 2.9k
CW: 🔞 18+ MDNI! This part isn't explicit, but the rest of the series is, so MDNI!! Fluff, kissing, mentions of arousal.
A/N: This takes place between Extra Credit 1 and Lesson 3. It’s an added extra to The Biology Tutor series.
My masterlist
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Despite your best efforts to keep things cool, you and Eddie’s relationship at school has shifted.
Eddie will greet you with a cheery, “Heeey, Princess”, whenever you pass in the corridors, and you’ll sometimes give him a cheeky wave in the lunchroom. You both flush a little whenever your eyes lock, thinking about all the intimate stuff you’ve done together over the past days and weeks.
Thankfully, as yet none of your friends have noticed the way you’ve started to giggle a little more loudly at Eddie’s antics on the lunch tables, or the way he shoots you cheeky glances to check that you’re watching. Each of your social groups would likely have something disparaging to say, and you’d prefer to avoid that kind of attention for the time being.
You’ve become even more aware of your physical proximity in Biology class. Even though you could probably reach out and touch each other (and you would really, really like to do that…) you try not to draw too much attention to yourselves.
You’re finding it hard to keep your focus on the front, knowing that Eddie’s sitting inches away behind you. But you revel in the fact that he’s there at all (and is, in all likelihood, checking out your ass).
At the end of class, Mr Clarke calls you over.
“I wanted to thank you for your efforts regarding the private tutoring. Mr Munson’s work has certainly improved since you began, as has his class attendance, which is remarkable in and of itself. And he seems to have become more enthusiastic about the human biology aspect of the syllabus too, which is… unexpected, but really good to see.”
He looks off to one side, momentarily bemused, but recovers quickly and continues,
“Nevertheless, there is a big test coming up which, as you know, makes up a sizable proportion of your grade. I would very much like to see Mr Munson do well. I was hoping that you might help him prepare, and in the hopes that you’d agree, I’ve already booked private study room 2C in the library specifically for this purpose.”
You know the library well, and the one he’s describing is a particularly quiet one, located at the back of the rarely-used reference section. If you can get Eddie to join you, it’ll be the first time you’ve ever been alone with him at school. You experience a frisson of excitement at the thought.
You readily agree, figuring that even if that wasn’t reason enough, getting further in the good graces of Mr Clarke wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. However, you do think convincing Eddie to relinquish his entire lunchtime might be another matter entirely.
You approach him in the lunchroom, managing to get to him before his usual table fills up with nerds. He was initially aghast that you were anywhere near him, but once he realised nobody was really interested he listened to your proposal.
“You seriously do this shit voluntarily?” is his only response, until you mention, more quietly, how it would mean spending an entire hour in a small, isolated room. With you. Alone.
Suddenly, he’s all for it, packing up his stuff as you exit ahead of him. He extols the virtues of ‘accepting with grace the assistance the universe offers you’ to the smattering of confused Hellfire boys before hightailing it out of the hall, stuffing pretzels into his mouth as he goes.
You reach the study room first, and are already setting out books and pencils as Eddie barrels in. He practically skids to a halt, and ambles towards you, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to act nonchalant.
“Hey, Princess.”
He plops his bag onto the tabletop, and as he gestures to the empty seats next to you and across the table, he drops his voice to a lower timbre as he asks you,
“So, uh, where do you want me?”
Thanks to his mildly suggestive question, an image flashes across your mind of perching him, naked, on the edge of the table and climbing atop him, but you quickly shake it.
You tap your hand on the seat next to you, and he enthusiastically flops himself down in it. He sits up straight, clasping his hands in his lap, theatrically attentive.
As he’s already managed to fluster you, you decide to fluster him right back.
“You’re so good at doing what I tell you, Eddie. I like that.”
Eddie’s cheeks flush pink and he swallows hard. It worked.
It doesn't take long for you to go over the test questions. Eddie’s picked up more than he’d thought from the parts of your sessions where you’d actually studied, and he flies through most of it, only getting stuck on a couple of gnarly chemistry formulae. What’s more, he actually looks like he’s having fun, gaining genuine satisfaction from answering your questions correctly and beaming as you let him know,
“That’s it, Eddie! You’ve got it!”
You can’t tell whether it’s the academic achievement, or the broad smiles and encouragement that you’re giving him, that’s his biggest driver, but at this point you’ll take either as a win.
You've gradually started sitting closer as the session has gone on. You’ve scootched to the edges of your seats, and your elbows and knees are gently knocking together. You can feel Eddie’s breath on your cheek as he jabs at his test total on your pad, screwing up his face and making a fist with his other hand in triumph. You’re genuinely thrilled for him, and not just because the very idea that you could be the reason for those gorgeous dimples popping makes your tummy flip.
Checking your watch, you realise you have a few minutes left before you have to leave, and there’s another new ‘skill’ that you’ve been thinking about trying with him.
Once all your supplies are back in your bag, you check the time again before asking,
“Eddie, would you like to try another quick practical session?”
He looks around the room, eyebrows disappearing into his bangs.
“What, here? Now?”
“Yes, but not like our, um, previous sessions. Something less… involved.”
“Okay, but what is it?”
“Eddie, I hope you don’t mind me asking you this, but have you ever kissed anyone?”
He looks a little abashed as he answers,
“Umm, does kissing your relatives on the cheek count?”
You can’t help smiling at his cute admission.
“For the purposes of this discussion, I’m gonna say no.”
He looks self-conscious, maybe even a little ashamed. Staring at the edge of the table, he clears his throat before replying,
“Then, uh, no.”
Not wanting him to feel uncomfortable, you reassure him,
“That’s okay, Eddie. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
After a beat, you continue,
“Would you like to try it? With me?”
“What?”
“Would you like for us to kiss, Eddie?”
His eyes become locked on your mouth. He swallows audibly, eyes shining with want.
“Umm, yeah. Yes. Yes, I absolutely would, Princess.”
“Just so I know how far you want to go, would you like us to… French kiss?“
“You mean… W- with, y’know, tongue?”
“Yes, Eddie. That’s exactly what I mean.”
“Are you okay with that? I mean, you don’t have to…”
Shaking your head a little, you reassure him,
“I’m the one who suggested it, Eddie!”
He looks down at his hands, now clasped again as he rubs his thumbs together.
“Only if you’re sure. I might be awful at it.”
“Well, that’s why we practice, right? So, first of all, we need to get a little closer…”
You turn your seat so you’re facing him directly, encouraging him to do the same. You pull your seat forwards, slotting your knees between his. You see his eyes scanning your face, and his fingers fidget, suggesting he’s not really sure what to do with them.
“You can rest your hands on my legs if you’d like, Eddie.”
He does so, but not without a little trepidation, and you see him swallow again.
“Just relax. I’m not gonna bite you. Not this time, anyway.”
You give him what you hope is a cheeky smirk. He smiles shyly, not sure where to look when you’re this close to him. Nervously, he licks his lips. The sight makes your thighs clench.
“Close your eyes and relax, Eddie. I’m gonna start with a quick peck.”
“O- okaaaay.”
He does as you ask, and you spend a few moments appraising him before you lean into his space. He looks angelic, his wild curls framing his pretty face and his rosy pink lips looking soft and inviting.
You turn your head slightly so your nose will slide past his, close your eyes, and ever so slowly connect your lips with his. Pursing them a little, you press forwards, and you hear a slight intake of breath.
You said it was going to be quick, but you’re enjoying the feeling so much you relish in it for a few moments. Eddie’s lips are plump, warm, and just a little moist from where he’s licked them. A tiny amount of stubble tickles your top lip. He smells of old leather, some kind of spicy cologne and vanilla chapstick, with a hint of cigarettes and weed. It’s a heady scent you could easily get lost in.
Gathering yourself, you pull back, rolling your lips inwards to taste him.
Eddie still has his eyes closed. If you’re honest he looks like he’s about to faint. Even after all you’ve done together you’re still a little nervous, and you’re suddenly mortified that he found it repulsive.
You did remember to brush your teeth this morning, didn’t you? Did you eat garlic last night and forget? Do you have spinach in your teeth, even though you definitely haven’t eaten spinach in weeks??
“H- how was that, Eddie? Did you like it?”
Suddenly, his eyes pop open. His lips part a little and he nods his head quickly, causing his chestnut locks to bounce around his face. He stares at you for a few more moments before he manages to say in a tiny, cracking voice,
“More? Please?”
You smile widely, and lean in again.
This time you move a little, pursing and softening your lips, changing their position slightly to find out what he likes, slotting them in different places.
To your surprise, this time Eddie starts to kiss you back. His plump lips press against yours and the tiniest moan emanates from his chest. He’s tentative at first, but as he gains in confidence he presses a little harder, and moves a little more.
Your lips move in sync as you rhythmically purse and relax them.
Eddie exhales heavily, and more than a little shakily, through his nose, and you feel his warm breath dance across your face and décolletage.
You part from him with a subtle wet smack.
He swallows thickly, and the grip on your knees strengthens.
You smile at him again, and his eyes flick between yours as he mirrors your expression.
“Okay Eddie, if you’re ready, this time I’m gonna use my tongue. You don’t have to do anything, but if you want to, just do what feels good. Alright?”
Eddie gives you another tiny, fast nod, and you feel him squeeze your knees again.
“Are you ready?”
“Yeah, I’m ready…”
He surprises you again as he shifts his hands slightly and slides them up your thighs, leaning into your space a little further. They feel warm, strong, and you can’t help but imagine how they might feel elsewhere.
What would it be like to hold his hand properly? Would his hand feel warm as it cupped your face? Would you be able to feel his rings? How would his calloused fingers feel running up your back, or across your…?
You’re broken from your thoughts as he closes his eyes again, a slight curl to his lips as he lets you know he’s ready.
You lean into his space again, and connect your lips as before. This time, you part your lips slightly and allow the tip of your tongue to poke out, and ever so gently brush across his lower lip. You hear that sharp intake of breath again as he stills, unsure of what he’s supposed to do, but then he parts his lips ever so slightly, and you slide your tongue past his lips and pearly teeth and into his mouth. You move it slowly, enjoying the feeling of his lips against it, the scrape of his teeth, the softness of his tongue beneath yours.
He moans again, and just as your tongue curls up to tickle the roof of his mouth suddenly his tongue is moving against yours, slowly, reverently, experimentally, and another moan leaves his chest.
His grip on your thighs tightens as he gets bolder, eventually pushing his tongue past your lips and into your mouth.
Abruptly, he turns his head slightly and pushes in more deeply, his tongue almost filling you. He’s insistent yet gentle, and now it’s your turn to gasp - he’s good at this - and a low whine leaves you.
You feel a chill on your legs as Eddie’s hands leave them, and you’re momentarily disappointed, but this rapidly turns into delighted surprise when one comes up to cup the back of your neck, the other grabbing the edge of your chair and pulling you closer towards him. He’s moaning continually now, turning his head to try different angles, licking and curling and sucking like you’re the very air he needs to breathe.
He’s pushing hard but not too hard, and when your teeth knock it’s adorable rather than uncomfortable.
It’s wet and messy, and oh, so fucking hot.
Your hands start travelling almost of their own accord, slipping up inside his jacket, sliding around his rib cage and settling on his surprisingly muscular back.
His hand travels up to your hair, mussing it, and you’re making his shirt ride up, but you couldn’t care less, lost in the sensations of your lips melding and tongues dancing.
There’s a pulsing heat in your core, and a wetness building in your underwear. You don’t think you've ever been this turned on just from kissing.
And how on Earth is Eddie so good at it?
You eventually both pull back, needing air, breathy and inhaling deeply.
Your eyes dance around his face, wanting to take it all in. His plump, kiss-bitten lips, his blown pupils, the way he’s looking at you with a stunned half-smile.
Needing a break from the intensity, you drop your eyes. But almost wish you hadn’t when you spot the obvious bulge in the front of Eddie’s pants.
He’s clearly enjoyed this as much as you have.
Just as you’re both leaning forward for another round, lips just brushing, the harsh and loud ringing of the school bell indicates the start of afternoon classes.
You and Eddie break apart with a start, exchanging breathy smiles, both a little surprised at how well that went.
He chuckles as he lets go of your hair, tidying it as best he can, and you pull down the hem of his shirt to straighten it.
”So, uh, I think I’d consider that lesson a success. Wouldn’t you, Mr Munson?”
He huffs out a little giggle, shaking his head slowly. His brow furrows and he fixes his face into as serious an expression as he can manage, as he dips his chin and replies,
“Oh, Princess, that feels like a great start. But you know, lessons work with me. So, just to be on the safe side, I think I might need a whole lot, lot more practice...”
He’s holding your gaze and nodding, raising his eyebrows and pursing his lips for emphasis.
You nearly snort at his brazenness, constantly amazed at how he so easily flips between abject fear and bolshy confidence, and manage to squeak out,
“Well, we’ll just have to see what we can arrange, won’t we?”
He grins at you again, those dimples even deeper this time, and tidies one more strand of hair at your temple.
Reluctantly, you both gather your things and leave the study room, still with shiny lips and heat in your cheeks.
You walk leisurely, your upper arms brushing, through the racks of dusty tomes. Neither of you is in any particular hurry to get to your next class.
You glance to your side, and notice that Eddie seems bigger, taller. He’s puffing his chest and is carrying himself a little differently. You like it.
He turns to you as he asks, “D’you think we should, y’know, leave separately or whatever?”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Awkward questions, and all that.”
You see Eddie’s eyes glance to the floor, then flit to the section containing the large encyclopaedias and dictionaries, before he adds,
“You know what, you go first. There’s something I want to check out in the reference section anyway…”
He flashes you a wink as you round the door jamb, causing something to revolve in your chest as you step out into the corridor. You definitely want to offer Eddie plenty of opportunities to practice this particular new skill.
As you head off to your next class, you wonder what on earth he could be up to. But more than that, you wonder how he’ll react to what you have in mind for your next study session…
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Thanks so much for reading!
Remember, writers thrive on your comments and reblogs, so if you liked this little extra please show some love 💕
A/N 2: I added this as an extra because I wanted Eddie and reader to share a special first kiss, but couldn’t work out how to fit it into the main Lessons without making them ridiculously long. I hope you like it!
The taglist for this series is open whilst it’s ongoing, and I have a general one now too - just let me know if you’d like to join either 😀
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Taglist (open whilst this series is ongoing): @airen256 @bimbobaggins69 @urlbitchin @jamdoughnutmagician @rustboxstarr @bl4ckt00thgr1n @bexreadstoomuch @cozmiccass @sadlittlesquish @yujyujj @cluz1babe @thunderg @aysheashea @paleidiot @cadence73 @eddie-munsons-wifey @siriuslysmoking @neville-is-my-husband @aestheticaltcow @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lightcommastix @ungracefularchimedes @spenciesprincess @joejoequinnquinn @freshoutthewomb2 @sunshinepeachx @tlclick73 @hellfirenacht @yourdailymemedelivery @wendyxox @madaboutmunson @80s-addict @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @eddiesxangel @bunny7232 @starksbabie
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mermaidgirl30 · 16 hours
Text
✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Chapter 5: Let Me Take You There✨
Dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader
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Series Masterlist
A/N: This has been a work in progress for 2 months, but it is finally here! Moodboard made by @mrsmando 🩵 I have been working on so many things lately, but I’m so happy with how this chapter turned out. I hope you enjoy 🥰 No beta for this one, but thank you to @mountainsandmayhem and @littlevenicebitch69 for letting me share snippets with you and scream about these two 🩷
Chapter Summary: After your parents cancel your weekend trip to Galveston at the last minute, Joel offers to take you instead.
Rating: 18+ Only MDNI
Word Count: 10.5k
Chapter Tags: Joel takes reader to Galveston, road trip, oral receiving (both male and female), unprotected p in v, creampie, fingering, reader and Joel being in love, bondage, vibrator use, lots of fluff and smut, switching POVs, no use y/n
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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  It’s Tuesday evening, a few days after your birthday and you’re sitting at the kitchen table eating takeout Mexican food. You’re not alone with your parents; your dad invited Joel over to watch some college game with him. He sits next to you, leg digging into yours as you let yours mold into his. His leg is strong, firm, holding you together as you let it rest against yours. You want to be in his arms, let him hold you tight while you drown in his lips, in his taste, but you can’t. Not here, not right now. 
   You take another bite out of your chicken enchilada and pop another chip drowned in queso in your mouth, letting the juicy flavors run down your throat as it hits just the right spot. 
   “Hey, sweetie, I’ve been meaning to tell you something. You know the Galveston trip this upcoming weekend?” your dad asks, finishing off a bite of his cheesy quesadilla as he sips from his tall water glass. 
   “Yeah, what about it?” you ask through another bite of enchilada. 
   “We’re gonna have to cancel the trip,” he says sadly, taking another bite out of his dripping quesadilla like he has no care in the world for the words that just came out of his mouth. 
   “What?” you ask, shocked. You drop your fork and it goes tumbling to the ground, landing with a loud clunk against the hardwood. Joel doesn’t hesitate and reaches his long arm down, picking up the ruined fork and setting it on the table next to him. 
   “I’m sorry, hun. Your aunt May and Charlie are making a surprise visit down, and they’re gonna come stay with us for the weekend. We wanted to tell you Thursday, but we didn’t want to ruin your weekend,” she says with apologies all over her uneasy tone. 
   “Why couldn’t you just tell them we already had plans? You’ve never canceled this trip before!” The words come out stronger than you want them to, hurt written all over your angry voice. They knew this weekend was important to you. They knew. 
   Joel places a hand discreetly on your thigh to help soothe you, but you barely register his gentle touch with how mad you are. 
   “We tried, hun, but the plans just fell through. I’m sorry, but we won’t be able to go. Maybe next year…”
   You interrupt your mom. “Maybe next year?” you ask quietly with your lip quivering around your words. This trip was important to you. It was always something you looked forward to, but now it was ruined. You feel the backs of your eyes burn with hot tears, but you won’t let them see. They don’t deserve to see you crumble. You’ll just go sulk in your room.
   Joel sees how upset you’re getting, sees the way you’re trying to keep it together at the table. He digs his thick fingers into the flesh of your knee and knits his brows together as he looks over at you from the corner of his eye. You feel his concern through the connected skin. As much as you want to place your hand over his, you just need a few minutes alone. 
   “If you’ll excuse me, I just lost my appetite,” you say as you push back your chair and feel Joel’s warm fingers drop from your skin. 
   As you leave the room and make your way up the towering steps, you hear your dad say something under his breath. “She just needs to cool off. She’ll be fine.”
   For some reason those words just make you more frustrated as you tread up the stairs, letting a hot tear collapse down your cheek as your vision begins to blur. Stupid trip, stupid aunt, stupid everything. You can kiss goodbye to any chance of your ocean weekend getaway because it isn’t happening. 
   You slam the door closed and flop onto your bed, curling your knees into your chest as you let the tears fall. You try to keep yourself together, but you’re too angry, too sad, too hurt. It might not be a big deal to them, but it is to you. So you burn with the heat inside your body and let it swallow you whole. 
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   Joel takes a stiff drink of his iced tea and looks over at George. “You didn’t tell me you were canceling the trip,” he says slowly, trying not to show the concern in his voice as he worries about you wallowing alone in your room. 
   “It just came up. May isn’t usually the type to just drop in, so we thought we’d better stay home and let them come on down. I feel bad, but sometimes things come up, ya know?” George says through a bite of a crunchy tortilla chip, not seeming all that concerned about his daughter. 
   “That’s too bad. She seemed really excited. I think you crushed her,” Joel says as calmly as he can without getting all worked up himself. The thing was, he hated seeing you upset, would never dream of ever making you feel that way. And now he felt obligated to make you feel better. He had to because you’re his girl, and he always takes care of his girl. 
   “We are really sorry. We just hope she’ll forgive us,” Claire says with a sigh huffed in between bites of her dinner. 
   “Yeah. Joel, the game’s back on, you ready to go finish it?” George asks as he gets up and starts heading toward the living room. 
   “Oh, yeah. Just go ahead and turn it on. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Gonna head up to the bathroom first,” Joel says as he pushes back his chair and heads toward the stairs. 
   “Alright, don’t take too long,” George calls as he disappears into the dark living room. Joel prowls up the stairs quietly and heads toward your room. 
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You wipe the last tear away from your cheek and look at yourself in the mirror across the room. You definitely look like you’ve been crying with your tinted red eyes and wet sleeves that leave traces of tears on the back of the aquamarine color. You feel like a complete mess. 
   Just then, you hear the click of the door handle and the squeak of hinges as Joel opens the door and slowly shuts in behind him. You silently gasp as you hope he doesn’t notice you were crying, but he probably will. He always notices. 
   “Hey, you okay there, darlin’?” Joel asks as he comes over and sits on the bed beside you, his eyebrows knit together with worry as his brown eyes stare intently at you. 
   “Mhm,” you hum out faintly as you keep your eyes locked on the cream carpet. 
   “That doesn’t sound very convincing to me,” he says as his hand brushes up against the side of your thigh, almost calming you down as your insides still rage like a hurricane. 
   “I’m fine, just a little upset is all,” you mumble out, holding back anymore tears that may spill over the edge. 
   “Hey, look at me,” he says gently as he cups your chin carefully and turns your face to him. His brown eyes are full of concern, and his gaze doesn’t waver from yours at all. 
   “Where’s that smile that I love so much, huh? C’mon, baby. Let me see it,” he coaxes as he lifts the corners of his mouth into a warm smile, the sight instantly calming you down. 
   He slowly unfolds you, and you can’t help but break when you see his crooked smile splayed across his face. It’s your favorite thing in the world. You drop the frown and replace it with a gentle smile as he trails his calloused thumb against your jawline, making you relax into his touch.
   “Ahh there’s my girl. The one with the beautiful smile,” he presses as the words send a quick giggle out of you. “Attagirl,” he praises as you get lost in his soft brown eyes. He leans over and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, making your insides coat with tingles at the warmth of him.
   “Thanks for making me feel a little better,” you sigh as you fall into his chest and lean your head into the crook of his neck as he gently runs a hand through your hair, soothing you into a calm state. 
   “I’m sorry about this weekend,” he apologizes as he gently combs his fingers through your hair. 
   “Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault my parents canceled at the last minute. It’s whatever. I didn’t even want to go that bad anyways,” you pout as you jut your bottom lip out. 
   “Oh, yes you did, sweetheart. I saw how upset you got down there. This trip meant a lot to you, didn’t it?” he asks as he trails his large hand up and down your back repeatedly. 
   “Yeah, it did,” you sigh, letting the thoughts wash out of your head so you don’t get upset again. 
   “What if you could still go?” he asks as your body goes still underneath his touch. 
   “Huh?” you ask as you pull your head up and sit up straight. “Still go? What do you mean?” you ask, confused because the trip had already been canceled. 
   “What if you could still go, would you?” he asks as he pushes a fallen stray curl away from his forehead. 
   You ponder his question, wondering why he’s asking such a silly thing. “Of course I would, but why are you asking?” You raise an eyebrow and look at him curiously, trying to decipher his meaning. 
   “Because,” he starts, straightening out his button-up blue flannel, “what if I take you?”
   Your mouth drops open and your eyes go wide. “What?” you ask with a locked jaw expression, not believing the words that just came out of his mouth. 
   “What if I take you? Just you and me. We could stay the weekend, get a little sun, maybe swim some, explore Galveston.” 
   “You’d do that for me?” you ask with teary eyes as he connects his hand with yours, entwining his fingers with yours as you feel them burn the back of your skin. 
   “I’d do anything to see that pretty smile, sweetheart,” he says with the curl of his lips and the dimple that presses deep into his cheek. 
   He’s so fucking beautiful and sweet and so loving. How did you ever get so lucky?
   “Joel…”
   “Let me take you to Galveston, please. I’d love nothing more, truly,” he says with genuine brown eyes. 
   You start to tear up, vision blurring as the tears lick at the edges of your eyes and start to fall against your cheeks. Joel cups your face with his big hands and wipes away the falling tears with the pads of his thumbs. 
   “Hey, hey. What’s the matter? Why are you cryin’, darlin’?” he asks worriedly as he looks into your eyes intensely, concern lathered in those doe eyes of his. 
   “You’re just… you’re just so good to me, Joel. Why are you so perfect?” you cry out as another hot tear falls from your eyes. Joel catches it with the tip of his thumb and brushes it away effortlessly. 
   “I’m nowhere near perfect,” he chuckles as he keeps his brown eyes on you, “I just know how much the trip meant to you, and there’s no way I’m letting that get taken from you. You wanna go? Then we’re going. I’m not gonna see you disappointed, baby. I’ll take you there myself, and I’m gonna make sure you enjoy every second of it,” he confirms as he drops his hands from your face. 
   You suck in a breath and slam into his broad chest as you wrap your arms tightly around him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you. God, I love you so much,” you breathe into his ear, feeling one of his hands come to cup the back of your head and the other wrapping around your waist.
   “You’re so welcome. And I love you, too, sweetheart. Never gonna stop,” he says slowly into your ear, making every part of you completely lose it for him. 
   You lift your chin up and slowly plant your lips on his, letting the moment move slow, delicately, passionately. You sink into his weight and let him devour your lips, your tongue, your everything. 
   Joel Miller was the definition of everything, and you’d never ever let him go. 
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   The cool breeze of November blows in a rush through your long locks of hair as you lean your head out the window, the air crisp and smelling of pine trees as you rest your elbows on the edge of the door and enjoy the taste of freedom. The radio hums low through the speakers as you feel Joel’s eyes on your back, feeling his warm smile on your skin as you close your eyes and take in this beautiful moment. 
   The drive to Galveston is relaxing, the sun kissing your skin as you bathe in warm sunlight. Joel taps his thumb against the leather steering wheel along to an AC/DC song that plays quietly throughout the truck. You take a moment to turn toward him, leaning your head on the back of the seat as you admire the beautiful man that sits before you. Tousled curls with grey threaded through his thick locks, a blue flannel that tugs at his muscular biceps, a glowing smile that reflects off the backs of your eyes as you soak him up, painting a pretty picture in your mind that you’ll surely take to your grave. 
   Joel catches you staring and reaches an arm out as he snatches your fingers and pulls your hand up to his plush lips. He grazes his lips against the back of your knuckles and laces his fingers through yours as he pulls your hand into his lap, holding tight as he drives along the vacant highway. 
   You blink twice and smile as you watch him drive, your hand on top of his thigh as he looks over and sees you in a lovesick daze. “What are you smilin’ ‘bout, hmm?” he asks as he smirks your way, arching an eyebrow as he drives along.
   “Oh, no reason. Just can’t believe you’re taking me all the way to Galveston.”
   He squeezes your hand gently and looks over at you as the crow’s feet crinkle around his warm eyes. “Well, believe it, baby. Gotta keep my girl happy. And trust me, I wouldn’t wanna spend the weekend doin’ anythin’ else.”
   You scoot over to his side, unfastening your seatbelt as you nuzzle up into the side of his neck, catching the edge of his greying scruff. He tsks at you as he eyes you with your seatbelt off. “Seatbelt on, baby. Don’t want ya gettin’ hurt.”
   You huff out a response, batting your long eyelashes up at him. “I just wanted to be next to you. Being in the passenger seat was too far away,” you pout.
   He rolls his eyes and sighs, putting a strong arm around you as he hugs you into his side. “You’re a handful, you know that?” You giggle out and he just shakes his head. “Guess you can stay right here, can’t say no to my girl.”
   You beam up at him, reaching up to leave a sweet kiss against his tanned cheek while you wrap your arm around his hip and nuzzle back into the warm, woodsy scent of his flannel. You still can’t believe you’re going to the beach with your boyfriend, your dad’s best friend, and you can’t even fathom how he fell in love with you in the first place, but you’re so glad he did because you think he’s the love of your life. 
   Joel stops on the way to Galveston at Buc-ee’s, and the both of you jump out and grab all your favorite snacks for the long ride. The two of you share a bbq sandwich, grab fountain drinks, a bag of Doritos, beef jerky, and numerous bags of candy. When you’re back in the truck and driving down the long highway, you’re back against Joel’s side and leaning your head on his shoulder while you slowly chew on a piece of salted beef jerky. 
   He leans down and bites off a piece of it which makes your head fall back and laughter flow out the cracked window. Who knew that a simple road trip with your dad’s best friend would be the most exciting thing to happen this year? You never saw it coming, but neither did he. He just made you that happy. You’d be content just sitting by his side, reading a book while he watched a baseball game on tv. It was simple really, you were just that in love with Joel. 
   He takes another bite and hugs you tight against his side while his fingers slowly trail up and down your outer arm, making tingles flow down your spine. “So, what’d you tell your parents? Reckon your mother gave you a mouthful for leavin’ on the weekend you have family comin’ into town,” Joel says as he keeps one hand on the leather steering wheel, his eyes vigilant on the straight road ahead. 
   You sigh, leaning your head on his broad shoulder. “Told them I was having a girl’s trip this weekend in Dallas. My mom was pissed, but she’ll get over it.”
   He nods his head, tongue sliding over his bottom teeth as he eyes you from the corner of his vision. “I’m sure she’ll get over it quick. Besides, how can she stay mad at a pretty face like yours, hmm?” He cups your chin as his calloused fingers slide against your smooth skin, leaning over to give you a quick kiss on your cheek. 
   You smile up at him, your cheeks warming from the golden sun and his soft touch. He really is the sweetest guy you know. “Thanks, Joel. You always know how to cheer me up.”
   “Always here for ya, baby.” He laces his fingers with yours and brings your hand up to his lips while he lays gentle kisses across your dainty knuckles. 
   When he releases your hand to focus on driving again, you pick out a sucker wrapped in pink paper and slowly unfold the sweet treat. You pop it into your mouth slowly and savor the cherry flavor on your tongue. Joel watches you lick at the sucker, your tongue sliding along the see through candy, eyes growing dark when he watches you pop it out of your mouth with drool sticking to the top. 
   He shifts in his seat, eyebrows furrowing together as he smirks your way, a devilish grin spreading across his crooked smile. “That good, huh?” he asks with hooded eyes.
   You smile his way, taking your tongue along the smooth edge as you slowly lick at the cherry flavored sucker. “Sooo good,” you hum as you take it further into your mouth, as far as you can without choking yourself. 
   His jaw clenches, hands tightening on the steering wheel as he drives along, fighting himself from running off the road. “Better stop that now,” he warns, his eyes flickering with dark flecks of temptation as he gazes at you again with little control.
   “Stop what?” you ask innocently, giving the sucker another lick as you stare directly into his smoldering eyes. 
   “Stop fuckin’ teasin’ me. You tryin’ to kill me?” he murmurs as you eye the hardening cock against his jeans. Oh yeah, you were going to have fun with this. 
   “Not trying to kill you, handsome. Just having some fun,” you tease. 
   He sighs, raking a hand slowly down his grey threaded scruff. “You’re trouble, sweetheart. A little tease is what you are.”
   “Oh, I know,” you giggle. 
   You lean over and lick your tongue up the side of his neck, tasting the salt of sweat and a hint of mahogany cologne. You taste him. 
   “Christ,” Joel groans as he grips the steering wheel even harder. “You’re gonna make me pull this truck over if you’re not careful, I mean it,” he warns, his voice thick and gravelly against the pinch of temptation. 
   “You’re not gonna pull over. You’re gonna keep driving with your eyes on the road while I do this.” You palm him through his jeans, feeling just how hard he is as he groans through his gnashed teeth. 
   “Now, sweetheart. Jus’ hold on there.” He tries to pry your hand off, but you don’t move an inch. 
   “Joel, I’ve wanted to do this for years. Please, let me make you feel good. Rather suck on your cock than this lollipop.” You give another innocent lick to the pink sucker and bat your long eyelashes at him, giving him the prettiest smile you can muster up. 
   He ticks his jaw, eyebrows molding together while he drags a huff out. “Alright, alright. Jus’ don’t go wild. I need to concentrate on the road.”
   “Noted,” you wink, watching him grit his teeth together as he watches you slowly unzip his denim jeans, pulling his boxers down while his hard cock springs up and hits his soft tummy. 
   You revel at how thick and long he is, wrapping a hand around him to slowly slide up and down his shaft, spreading the leaking precum over his entirety. He groans at your slow motions, eyes blowing out as he watches you sink down to his lap while your mouth closes over him.
   “Fuckkk,” he groans as you bob your head up and down his shaft, hovering down to where his tip is kissing the back of your throat, making you choke and drool all over his weeping cock. He shifts beneath you, hands cemented to the steering wheel as he fights to keep his eyes on the road instead of at your pretty mouth around his thick length. 
   You gather your spit and fist him in your hand, moaning while you hear the wet, sticky noises of your fingers working him nice and good up and down repeatedly. You feel your own slick gathering in your panties, an ache you’re desperate to alleviate. You slide your left hand under the lace, circling your throbbing clit while you moan his name, still working him up and down with your hand. 
   “Oh for fuck’s sake,” he growls, watching you get yourself off with your own fingers. “If I wasn’t in the middle of the highway, I’d pull this truck over and have you spread across my lap while I finished the job.”
   “Yeah?” you whine, fingers curling up inside yourself while your thumb presses down on your pulsing bundle of nerves. 
   “Oh yeah, sweetheart. Better believe I’m takin’ care of you later. You brought what I asked, right?”
   “Mhm,” you hum, feeling yourself about to spill inside your denim shorts. 
   “Attagirl. Gonna get you all nice and wet with my fingers, my tongue. Gonna tie you to the bedpost and give you what you deserve. Gonna make my girl come so hard that we’ll need new sheets before the night is through,” he growls with gritted teeth. 
   “Joel,” you moan, feeling a white hot sensation flow through your body before your panties are ruined with your release, continuing to stroke him while you come down from the blissful high of an orgasm. 
   “That’s my good fuckin’ girl,” he praises. You’re absolutely drenched from his dirty words.
   You take a minute to come back to the present while your eyes glaze over, feeling his pulsing cock beneath your fingers while you work him up and down slowly. You lean over and glide the tip of your tongue up the underside of his cock where a large vein guides you forward. He groans, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel while you work your magic. 
   Suddenly, Joel stills beneath you, hearing his phone buzz deep in his pocket. He curses under his breath and reaches one hand in, grabbing up his vibrating phone as his eyes blow wide. 
   “It’s your father,” he mutters, knitting his eyebrows together as he answers the phone. “Hey, George. What’s up?” he says casually, motioning for you to stop while he talks on the phone. 
   You still your hand, keeping it wrapped firmly around the base, brushing the end of your nose through his coarse, wiry hairs, breathing him deep as you get intoxicated off his manly musk.
   “Beers at your house tonight? Sorry, bud. I’m actually out of town this weekend.” 
   You hear your dad on the other end sighing, can almost see him rolling his eyes. You know he misses his best friend, but right now he’s a bit tied up with you. 
   “M’sorry. It was a bit last minute, but I’m goin’ to the lake with Sarah.”
   You listen to Joel and your dad carry on the conversation, one hand on the steering wheel tight while he balances the phone on his shoulder. You know he’s trying not to break while he’s on the phone, but you just can’t help yourself. 
   You lick a thick stripe up the underside of his cock, flicking your tongue in slow circles around his swollen red tip as he hisses through his teeth. He glares at you, but you just smile sweetly up at him as you dive back in. 
   You take him deep in your mouth, feeling the salty precum slide down your throat as you choke on him again and again. He grabs the back of your hair, letting you work him over, swallowing your own moans with his thick length. 
   You take him deeper, choking on him while you make the most obscene gagging noises around his cock. “Ahh fuck,” he growls through his teeth as he looks down with blown out black eyes. “Oh, sorry. Jus’ lifted somethin’ a little too heavy for me. Guess I couldn’t quite handle it,” he mutters while his fingers grab your hair harder. 
   He pushes you down further, rutting his hips up while you choke again and again on his cock, letting him deepthroat you as your drool and spit coat him in wetness. 
   “Yeah, that’s right. Mhm, feels fuckin’ great at the lake. Not too cold, not too hot, jus’ right,” he grits through his teeth, fisting your locks in his hand as he drags your mouth up and down him, mouth fucking him intensely. You’re nearly drowning in him.
   “Mhm. Tuesday. I’m gonna come. On Tuesday, right,” he pants out, teeth gritted together as he pushes your head down hard and blows his load inside your hollowed out cheeks. 
   You swallow him down, barely able to take all the hot ropes of cum as some leaks out of your mouth. He curses under his breath and hits the back of his head on the headrest, broad chest heaving while you clean him up and lap up all the excess cum and drool on his messy cock. When you’re done cleaning him and his cock is softening, you fold it back into his boxers and pull his jeans back up, zipping them up for Joel.
   He takes deep breaths, listening to the last few words your dad tells him on the phone. He seems uninterested in whatever your dad has to say, his eyes only watching you now. They’re glazed over, dark flecks shining in the sunlight as he looks at you with love in his eyes. It makes your heartbeat pick up and kick against your chest. 
   “Alright, George. Sounds good. Have a good weekend. See ya Tuesday.” He clicks the phone off and shoves it in his pocket while his hand trails back over to you. His eyes find yours, and they look so beautiful in the rays of sunshine that glow through the window. 
   “You messy, messy girl. Goin’ down on me when I’m tryin’ to drive, when I’m on the phone with your father. You’re such a mess, baby,” he chuckles as he settles a large palm on the top of your head, gently running his fingers softly through your long locks. 
   “Mhm. I’ve always wanted to do that for you. And now I can say I have,” you giggle. 
   “Christ. How’d I get so lucky with you, hmm?” he smiles, watching you turn on your side and laying your head in his lap while one of your arms wraps around his thigh. 
   “The question is how’d I get so lucky with you? I’ve wanted you for so long, and now I finally have you all to myself. Almost doesn’t seem real, you know?”
   You hear him hum while his thick fingers curl against your shoulder. “I know what ya mean, sweetheart. It’s real, though. You’re mine, and I’m not lettin’ you go. You’re stuck with me, pretty girl.”
   “Fine with me, cowboy,�� you smile.
   He chuckles out, the weight of his laughter echoing through your heart. “I love you, sweetheart.”
   “And I love you, Joel Miller.”
   He smiles down at you as you situate yourself in his lap, closing your eyes to take a nap. Maybe when you wake up you’ll see the surf and sand of Galveston before your eyes. 
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   After you check into the lavish hotel and place your bags in your suite, you and Joel both throw on your swimsuits and grab some beach towels. You settle into a dark teal bikini, and Joel almost matches you with light blue swim trunks. He looks so good, so broad with his tanned chest almost glistening in the sun, his large muscles flexing every time he moves. He looks like a masterpiece. 
   Just when you almost get lost in your fantasies in your mind, Joel pulls you right back out. “I’ll race ya to the beach,” he smirks as he pulls open the back sliding door that leads to a winding staircase down to the beach.
   “Bet I can beat you,” you giggle as you push him in the shoulder and race past him, barreling down the sturdy steps as you hear him laughing uncontrollably behind you. 
   “Cheater,” he laughs with a gravelly tone, “pushed right past me.”
   You turn your face his way and stick your tongue out playfully. “Come catch me, slow poke,” you giggle. That just makes him sprint faster toward you.
   You take off in the warm sand, your heart beating wildly inside your chest as you run toward the blue crashing waves of the ocean. You turn your head back around quickly and scream when you see him right on your heels.
   “C’mere, pretty girl,” he chuckles. One more step and he’s picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder while you squeak and try to escape. 
   “Joel, put me down!” you laugh, using every bit of strength in you to break free of his hold, but it’s no use. He’s got you in a tight embrace. 
   “Ain’t puttin’ you down jus’ yet, baby. Nah, gonna jus’ take ya for a little dip in the water.”
   “Joel Miller, put me down this instant!” you squeak as he squeezes the backs of your thighs, taking off into the thick sand. 
   “Nah, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna do that.” 
   You hear the crash of waves before you see them, and then he’s throwing you into the salty water while your head gets completely covered in the cold water. You make your way quickly up to the surface and rub the salt out of your eyes, yelling at Joel playfully while he laughs in the near distance. 
   Once you see him you start splashing him in the face with the cold water, watching his hair get completely soaked with his tousled curls slicked back with big droplets of salt water framing his face. “Now who’s winning!” you shout gleefully. 
   “Oh, so you wanna be like that? Okay, baby. Two can play at that game.” He starts splashing you right back while you turn your head and avoid the salt water getting in your eyes. 
   It’s a water fight in the best possible way, you and Joel going back and forth seeing who can make the biggest splash and who can get the most soaked. A fit of giggles leave your mouths while the sunshine warms your dripping shoulders. It goes on for minutes, the playful water fight until Joel comes up behind you and wraps his strong arms around your waist. 
   “C’mere,” he chuckles. He spins you around and pins you to his chest while his lips find yours hungrily. You melt into the kiss, fingers twisting through his dripping curls, him slotting his tongue into your mouth as you taste the salty flavor of the ocean and him. 
   You squeak when he picks you up, legs wrapping around his hips as one of his hands locks you to him. You rest your forehead on his, your lips curved into a warm smile as you take in the salt water that covers his tanned skin. “Thanks for taking me here, Joel,” you whisper against his mouth. 
   “Anytime, darlin’. Anytime.” 
   You wrap your arms around his neck and let him hold you up in the water, keeping your body flush to his chest. You both turn your attention to the horizon, watching the gentle blue waves lap against the water, focusing on the afternoon glow of the sun, the graceful seagulls flying overhead, your own beating heart mixing with Joel’s. 
   It’s moments like this that you can never take for granted. Being at the beach with your lover, not having to sneak around under the nose of your reluctant father, being at one of your favorite places in Texas. It’s all surreal, almost fictional. You’re one hell of a lucky girl, and you know that. God, you know that. 
   You rest your head on Joel’s shoulder and feel him kiss the top of your head slowly, his lips grazing against your drenched hair. “This is so peaceful, Joel,” you breathe, sighing into the scruff of his jaw. 
   “Mhm, it sure is. Haven’t been down here in a while. You know Sarah was jealous, right?”
   You giggle and look up at him, catching the sunlight strike his dazzling honey colored eyes. “You told her you were coming here?”
   “Yeah. Guess it was a mistake ‘cause she threw a fit, but she got over it. Told her I wanted a little alone time with my girl.”
   You smile and nod in understanding. “Glad she took it well.”
   “Me too. She kept askin’ when we were gonna tell your folks about us,” he sighs, one hand raking down the curve of his jaw, thick fingers catching water droplets from his greying beard. 
   You huff and sink back into his chest. “I don’t even want to think about that. I mean eventually we’ll have to, but not today. Not this month, or year. Maybe next year,” you sigh while your nails scratch against the back of his tousled curls. 
   “Whenever you want, baby. M’not in a rush either. Whenever you feel like the right time is, we’ll tell ‘em together. I’ll be right there by your side, no matter what happens. M’not goin’ anywhere, even if your father hates me after. I’m yours. Always.” He brushes his lips over your cheekbone, and it sends butterflies flitting through your lower regions. The man always knew how to get you. 
   You stay in the cool, salty water just a little longer, going back and forth from floating on your back to being in Joel’s arms. No one else is in the water or on the beach, it’s just you and Joel. Your own island paradise for the weekend. 
   You bathe in the beauty of it all. The salty air breezing across your hair, sun kissed skin soaking in every bit of ray of sunshine the sky graces you, Joel standing behind you with his lips brushing against your collarbone, his deep hums sending sparks of lightning through your core. You never want to leave this place, never want to leave him. You’ll just stay in the moment for as long as you can.  
   “Joel?”
   “Hmm?” He hums as he kisses your neck sweetly, his other hand dancing along the bikini line as his thick fingers play with the teal material by your hip bone. 
   “Promise me this isn’t just a dream and that I’m not gonna wake up tomorrow with you gone.”
   He chuckles behind you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers in his deep, gruff voice you so love. “S’not a dream, baby. It’s real, I’m real. And I can promise you I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
   You sink your weight into his broad chest, his finger cupping your chin with his calloused fingers. He tips your head backwards and meets your lips with his, letting him soak you in all his sunshine and salty presence while you float off on a cloud into paradise. This is heaven, Joel is heaven. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of him. 
   After half an hour of basking in the beautiful ocean, you decide to get out and lay in the sand for a while. You drag your feet through the damp sand, body relaxed and tired from the ocean water. You spot your towels laid out together, yours pink and Joel’s dark blue. But before you can reach them you feel Joel catch your hips while he envelops you in his warm hold, dragging you down to the sand as his weight topples over you. He pins your wrists to the warm sand while he holds himself over you. 
   “Got you,” he chuckles, hovering over you with his tousled curls dripping salt water all over your chest. 
   “Joel!” you laugh as you erupt into a fit of giggles. “Didn’t realize we were still playing.” 
   “Mmm, found the perfect opportunity to take you down again. Couldn’t resist,” he chuckles. 
   “Silly old man,” you tease.
   “Old man, huh? Ain’t old enough to do this,” he laughs, sinking his body against yours while his lips crash into you. 
   You melt into his lips, your fingers running through his tousled curls that smell of salty water and mahogany, the two mixing together to form a scent you breathe into your lungs and get lost in. His tongue dances with yours, his rough hands gliding against the curve of your hips as he slithers his way between your legs. 
   You stay like that for minutes just breathing each other in, getting lost in the hungry kisses, the panting breaths that sound in tune with the lapping waves against the shoreline. It all feels like a dream, but this is real, and it’s the most perfect day with your ridiculously hot boyfriend. 
   He nips at your bottom lip, slowly releasing his mouth as he hovers back over you. When you open your eyes, you gasp. The way the warm sun beams down over him makes him look angelic, a bright light surrounding him as you look into those beautiful honey eyes, the dark flecks reflecting off your own. God, he looks so beautiful, so exquisite. You could stare at him every second of every day if you got the chance to. 
   Your fingers brush over his grey threaded beard, lips parting in awe as you smile up at him. His lips curve into a warm smile that makes your toes curl, and his eyes crinkle down at you while one of his hands grazes against your jawline. 
   “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. You know that?” he asks, affection spilling off his Southern drawl while he traces your bottom lip with the tip of his thumb. 
   “You tell me all the time, handsome,” you smile, eliciting a groan from his mouth as you drag your fingers against the scruff of the back of his neck. 
   “You deserve to be told every single second of every day, sweetheart. And I’ll do that, over and over again. Even if you get tired of it, I’ll keep at it. ‘Cause you deserve the world, so let me give it to you.”
   Your mouth drops open, your heart in your throat. You’re so stunned that you can barely say anything but run your fingers through his hair, a wide smile splayed over your face as you gaze into the eyes of the love of your life. 
   “Joel Miller, never knew you were such a romantic at heart,” you smile, lazing into those crystal clear dark eyes. 
   “Always been a romantic, baby. Guess I jus’ didn’t have anyone to show it to. But now, there’s you. So let me shower you in it. Got many years to make up for it,” he chuckles. 
   You drag his face down to yours, pressing your lips flush against his until you sink back into him, reveling in his touch, his kiss, his everything while the sun slowly slips against your ocean kissed skin. You swallow his essence, inviting him in while his tongue swirls feverishly around yours. It’s like you’re in the middle of a cute little romance movie, but this is your reality. This is real.
   He drags one of your bikini straps down, slipping his fingers underneath the silky teal top, grazing against the underside of your breast. “Joel, stop,” you groan. “This isn’t a nude beach,” you laugh. 
   “There ain’t nobody around, darlin’. Jus’ let me do one thing, yeah?” he asks while you silently nod your head in approval. 
   He drags one of your cups free, burying his face in your chest as he takes the flat of his tongue and gently swirls around your pebbled breast. You groan into the shell of his ear while his other hand lightly feathers against the folds of your already soaked center. 
   “Joel,” you warn, wrapping your arms around his salt covered neck as he nips up your collarbone. He slips a hand beneath your bikini bottoms and starts to slowly circle your puffy clit, eliciting a moan that falls like a melody against the curve of his ear. 
   “Yeah? That feel good, darlin’?” he asks, feeling just how drenched you are beneath your bikini. He presses harder against your aching bud, pulling you dangerously close to spilling over him as you feel a cold wave hit the backs of your feet.  
   “Joel, fuck - you’re gonna make me…”
   “Make you come? Go on, gorgeous. Spill for me. Know you want to,” he purrs, his calloused fingers swirling swiftly around your bundle of nerves until you dig your fingers into the scruff of his neck and moan his name intensely while he elicits a long, amazing orgasm from you. Your body jolts at the aftershocks, coming down from your high as cum spills all over your teal bikini. 
   “Attagirl,” he praises, working you through your orgasm, then slipping his fingers inside his mouth to clean them off properly. He groans at the taste of you, savoring the flavor against his tongue. 
   He leans back and looks at you, glistening tanned skin and chocolate coated eyes you want to melt in. He’s absolutely stunning. “Joel Miller getting me off on the beach?” you smirk as you raise an eyebrow at him.
   “Mhm, couldn’t wait to get back to the room. Had to get a taste and repay you for the favor you did for me in the truck.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but laugh and roll him over into the sand. You climb on top of his chest and drape your arms over his broad shoulders while he brings his large hands up to rub your back softly. 
   “You’re the best, Miller. Best I ever had,” you smile as you rest your chin on his tanned chest. 
   “Mmm, think you’re the best, sweetheart. Never met a girl that got me quite like you do. You’re somethin’ else.”
   He takes one of his fingertips and traces a heart in the sand, writing out your initials and drawing an arrow through the heart with a lovesick look in those pools of honey. You gawk at him, almost tearing up when you see how mesmerized he looks hovering over your initial, like it’s the most important thing in the world to him.
   “There. Now it’s our beach. Jus’ yours and mine, baby. It’s written in the sand,” he lulls warmly.
   You smile down at him, placing your hand against the soft scruff of his jaw and turn his face toward yours. You part your lips, almost speechless as words start to fail you. Joel really was a romantic after all. Your perfect, romantic, endearing boyfriend.
   “Joel Miller. You amaze me every single day. And God, I’m just so in love with you,” you muse.
   “Sweetheart, it’s me that’s so in love with you. Never gonna stop. It’s written in the sand, in the ocean, in the stars even. You’re mine, baby. All mine,” he whispers, staring up at you with the most endearing brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Everything about this moment is magical.
     You gaze into the warmth of his honey eyes and play with his tousled curls, running your fingers through the soft locks as you get lost in his gaze. You stay like that another hour, listening to the lapping waves of the ocean, soaking up the warm sun, getting hopelessly lost in his mahogany and salt water scent. He’s got you wrapped around his finger, just like he is with you. 
   After a while, Joel helps you up off the sand and leads you across the shoreline. He takes your hand in his and guides you through the lapping water, taking in the salty breeze of the sea and the picturesque vision of you and him walking along the coast. It’s so romantic, so very special, and it feels so right. His strong hand in yours, him smiling down at you with those beautiful brown eyes, and his smile that sends you over the edge every single time. It’s all just so breathtaking. 
   Maybe this was fate after all, maybe you were meant to be on this beach with Joel the whole time. It sure seems like it now. You realize why it never worked with anyone else. It’s because Joel Miller was always the one. You just didn’t know it then, but you do now. He’s the one for you. Your forever. 
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   After you and Joel have showered and thrown on white silky robes, you sit on the balcony and watch the sunset paint the sky purple and amber colors. You lean into Joel on the reclining chair, letting his fingertips trace up and down your arms slowly while his lips brush against the shell of your ear. 
   “Beautiful, isn’t it?” you ask, watching the waves slowly lap against the sand while he murmurs in your ear.
   “Mhm, gorgeous.” He grazes his lips against your cheek and whispers sweet words into your ear. “You wanna go back inside? Let me make love to my girl,” he whispers as he trails another kiss over your cheek. 
   You spin around and smile down at him. “Okay, handsome. What’d you have in mind?” you giggle. 
   He smirks up at you and chuckles. “You remember when we were watchin’ Scream on Halloween night, and I asked about the whole handcuff thing?”
   You raise your eyebrows in question and nod. “Yeah, what about it?”
   “Well, don’t exactly have the handcuffs, but that black silk ribbon I asked you to bring? Gonna use that to tie you to the headboard. Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart. That what you want?” he asks with a long Southern drawl, eyes darkening as he speaks to you in a deep voice. 
   You gulp and nod your head. “Okay, daredevil. Take me to bed then,” you whisper into the shell of his ear. 
   He wastes no time and hauls you up, cradling you in his strong arms as he makes his way through the sliding glass door, closing it with the heel of his foot. “On the bed for me, naked,” he instructs as you fully oblige. 
   The room is massive, marble countertops and fancy light fixtures filling the room. The room is dim, only a couple of lamps on as the luminescent dark blue walls cover the space. The king sized bed is pristine, white sheets with fluffy pillows covering the top of the bed. The headboard is made of light wood, and a small fireplace crackles underneath the 70 inch flat screen tv in the center of the room. 
   You slip off your robe, crawling onto the plush bed while Joel watches with wide eyes, grabbing a couple things from your pink suitcase that sits in the corner of the room. His eyes stay locked on yours, especially when you spread your legs wide and show him the sticky mess already building up over your warm core. 
   He licks his lips, dragging a hand slowly over his mouth while he feasts on your naked body. “Look at you, baby girl. Already so wet and ready for me. Christ, you’re a fuckin’ vision,” he purrs, leaning against the edge of the bed just mesmerized at the perfection that splays in front of him. 
   You smile, bedroom eyes slipping over his tanned form, and he knows exactly what that means. He crawls over you, pushing your legs further apart with his knees and catching your wrists above your head. “Stay still for me, sweetheart. Gonna tie you up now.”
   You stay still, letting him collect your wrists above your head, gently tying the black silk ribbon against the headboard. You almost moan, feeling his thigh brush against your clit as he sits back to assess his work. “You okay? Not too tight?” he asks with concerned brown eyes. 
   “Feels perfect, Joel,” you smile, giving him a mischievous smirk while your foot hikes his robe up his tanned thigh. “Gonna take that off, Miller?”
   He chuckles, untying the belt slowly and then ripping it off his body as it goes crashing to the floor. You gawk at him, watching his cock twitch before you, already hardening as he assesses your bare body before him. 
   “Look at my man. So handsome, tan, big, all mine,” you giggle. 
   “Mmm, all yours, gorgeous. Now breathe for me. Wanna try somethin’,” he murmurs with darkening eyes. 
   You see him spread your thighs more, trailing kisses up your inner thighs and brushing his nose through your folds, dragging it over your sensitive clit and ending in the soft curls above your mound. 
   He gives you a devilish grin and then licks a long, thick stripe up your core, sending a moan falling from your lips as he drinks in the taste of you. “Taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby girl,” he groans, licking the slick from his lips slowly. “Now, for the fun part. Think you’re gonna love this,” he smiles. 
   He reaches behind his back and grabs the vibrator that was sitting underneath your clothes in your suitcase. He turns the power on, starting it slow as the buzzing noise fills the width of the room. Before he brings it to your center, he hovers it just over your clit as he speaks. “Take a deep breath. Gonna start it slow.”
   Your breath falters when he places the end of the vibrator on your clit, pressing down and massaging slow circles across your bundle of nerves. “Fuck, Joel,” you whine, letting him revel in your long, drawn out moans.
   “Attagirl, feels good don’t it?” he chuckles, watching the way your lips part and eyes blow wide. 
   “Yeah, it feels - ohhhhh,” you moan, feeling him slip two digits into your dripping hole, working them nice and slow, curling up into the spongy wall that makes you lose control. 
   “That’s it, sweetheart. Let’s take it up a notch, shall we?” he smirks. 
   He switches the settings, powering the vibrator to a more intense level that has your legs shaking uncontrollably. He shifts his knee, pinning your thigh down so he can see the spasming movements of your ruined pussy. 
   His eyes expand into black pits, tongue licking against his bottom lip while he assesses the damage he does to your soaked core. He watches the way the slick runs down his knuckles, fingers fucking deep into your drenched pussy, obscene squelching noises and melodic moans filling the room. He’s never heard anything more beautiful in his entire life.
   He presses down harder on your throbbing clit, the buzzing motion of the vibrator making you squirm beneath his calloused fingers. “Joel, I’m so close. I’m so - oh,” you writhe, hearing the wet noises of him fucking your pussy with his thick fingers faster and faster, feeling him coaxing you on each time his fingertips kiss that perfect spongy spot that makes you black out. 
   “That’s it, that’s my girl,” he praises, pressing downward on the vibrator and opening a whole new sensation that makes you form your lips into a wide O, white hot heat sliding down the edge of your spine.
   “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come,” you whine, fusing your eyebrows together and choking on a moan. 
   “Come for me, beautiful. Make a mess on these fingers,” he coaxes. 
   One more brush of the vibrator and curl of his thick fingers and you’re gone. You moan his name, twisting your fingers into the silky ribbon as you feel the rush of bliss blow over you. You release for him, spilling all over his fingers, along with another wave of pleasure that overcomes you. You feel yourself squirt, watch yourself coat his broad chest, the scruff of his jaw with the slick that just keeps flowing. 
   “Oh, Jesus Christ you’re so fuckin’ perfect, baby. There she goes. Jus’ keeps on comin’. Fuckin’ drenchin’ me,” he purrs all mesmerized and hypnotic while he talks you through it. 
   “Yeah, that’s it. That’s a good girl,” he praises, turning the vibrator off while he collects slick against your glistening mound. He slides his fingers from your insides, popping his soaked digits into his mouth, groaning from the taste of you. 
   “Joel, that was incredible,” you pant, coming back to your body after the intense orgasm washes through you.
   “Yeah? Well, I ain’t done with you yet, sweetheart,” he teases, a crooked smile forming over his beautiful face. 
   “Not yet?” you ask, laughing.
   “Not yet,” he confirms with a glint in his blown out eyes. 
   Your eyes look down, staring at the large erection between his legs. His cock is thick, the head red and swollen while precum leaks down his shaft. You go wide-eyed, licking your lips as you gaze hungrily at him. 
   “Joel,” you whine.
   “What do ya need, baby girl? Use your words.”
   You strain against your bindings, panting desperately, trying to show him how badly you need him between your thighs. “Your cock. Need you inside, please,” you beg.
   “Don’t gotta beg for me, darlin’. It’s all yours, I’m all yours,” he smiles. 
   He brings your legs over his shoulders, crawling between your thighs as he stretches you wide, cock gliding against your folds, collecting slick on his angry tip. You groan at the feeling of him, the tingling sensation his cock gives as it slides against your wetness. 
   “You ready for me?” he asks, brushing over your clit once more as you stifle a moan.
   “Mhm,” you hum.
   “Okay, baby girl. Deep breath for me,” he instructs. 
   He pushes into you, stretching you wide as his thick cock fills you to the brim. You pant, writhing beneath him while he starts a slow rhythm of going back and forth, his grunts becoming savage like when he talks you through it. 
   “There ya go, sweetheart. Takin’ me so good, jus’ like you always do,” he grunts out, his large hands caging you against him. 
   You want so badly to be able to run your hands through his hair, want to scratch your nails down the tanned skin of his back, feel the sweat building on his sculpted skin. Being tied up is hot, and something about not being in control right at this moment is really turning you on, but you also want to just be able to really feel him. 
   He sees you struggling with your wrists, pulling against the black silk while you pant out his name through every brush of his cock against your tight walls. He stills his thrusts, giving you a concerned look as he takes you in. “You okay, sweetheart? Is it too tight? Too much?” he asks with a soft voice.
   “I just… This is really hot, Joel. But I kind of just want my hands free so I can touch you,” you say with glossy eyes. 
   He chuckles, nodding his head in understanding. “That’s all you had to say, sweetheart. Here, let me jus’ fix this real quick.” His arms go over your head, carefully untying your hands from the polished headboard. He throws the black silk ribbon on the nightstand and situates himself over you again, all while still being inside you. “Better?” he asks, a crooked smile draping over the curve of his mouth. 
   You throw your arms around his neck and let out a sigh of relief as your fingers scratch up the tousled curls on the back of his neck. “Better,” you smile. 
   “Now, let me get back to makin’ love to my girl,” he says with eyes that smother over with darkening irises. 
   He ruts back into you, speeding up his thrusts as his lips come down to meet yours. You part your lips and let him slot in, drowning out your moans with the slide of his tongue as he licks feverishly inside your mouth. You twist your fingers through his sandy colored curls, eliciting a grunt from his lips as your nail beds dig across his scalp. 
   He moves his lips down to your neck, teeth scraping along your collarbone, sucking against the sensitive areas all while his large palms cup your breasts, pebbling your nipples with every stroke of his calloused thumbs. 
   “Oh, right there,” you whine, feeling his cock reach that certain spongy spot that you can never reach yourself.
   “Yeah, feel good?” he purrs along the shell of your ear, licking his tongue along the edge of it. “How ‘bout this?” he says with a devilish grin, eyes blowing wide with dark black pits. 
   “Fuck,” you moan, feeling his thumb draw meticulous circles across your swollen clit while his cock kisses the back of your cervix, spreading wet, obscene noises around the glow of the room as his balls slap frantically against your sweaty skin. 
   You dig your nails into the back of his shoulder blades as Joel folds you like a pancake and ruts deep inside you, his cock drenched in your sticky slick. Your walls squeeze him as you feel the hot heat slide down your spine. You’re so close to spilling.
   “Come on, baby. Know you’re close. Want you to come for me, sweetheart. Come on my cock. Attagirl,” he praises as he sees your eyebrows thread together, your body quivering beneath him. 
   He slides his thumb in slow circles over your buzzing clit, cock hitting your spongy wall again and again and again until you can’t hold back any longer. You squeeze his thick cock, moaning his name as white hot heat takes control of your body. You feel yourself start to spill, covering Joel in your blissful orgasm that coats him in your slick.
   “Attagirl, baby. Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he praises, talking you through your high as your body starts to come down from sweet release. 
   He pushes your legs further apart, cock working swiftly in and out of your core as he chases his own release. “Oh yeah, fuck me,” he growls, thrusting in and out faster and faster until he’s furrowing his eyebrows together and clenching his jaw, spilling hot ropes of cum inside you till he collapses at your side and pulls you flush to his chest. 
   You both pant out in exhaustion, sheets soaked from the sweat of skin on skin, bodies tangled together as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and smiles warmly over at you. “Did so good for me, baby. Always do so good,” he praises, leaving a gentle kiss on your cheek as you take in the starry flecks of amber brown of his dreamy eyes.
   “Thanks for showing me something new. Never knew I could be so into bondage,” you tease, smirking his way with flirtatious eyes he can’t seems to look away from.
   “Mmm, we’ll jus’ have to explore those kinks together then, yeah?”
   You giggle while you run a hand through his messy curls, taking in this beautiful moment of you and Joel on a weekend getaway together. It feels so natural, so right being here with him. You guess it’s just always felt like this ever since starting this whole thing with him.
   After a few minutes of just staring at one another mesmerized, Joel traces his thumb across your bottom lip and smiles gently at you. “You wanna know the first thing I noticed about you when I met you?” he asks quietly.
   “What?” you laugh gently, placing your palm over the top of his hand.
   “Your eyes. Never saw such beautiful eyes before. And your smile. God, that gorgeous smile. Thought I was seein’ an angel the first time you looked at me.”
   Your breath gets caught in your throat, the outside waves being muted from the man that lies in front of you. “Joel… that’s so… wow,” you whisper breathlessly.
   “Think I was in love before we even started dating, sweetheart. If I’m bein’ honest with myself, I should’ve known all along. You’re exactly the woman I’ve been lookin’ for. You’re so beautiful and smart and kind. I’m jus’ so… fuck, I jus’ love you a lot.”
   Your mouth drops open, a gasp leaving your throat as you stare at him like a lovesick puppy. You’re almost too overwhelmed right now with tears licking the backs of your eyes. “Joel Miller, you sweet, sweet man. I never thought… I only dreamed that this could all be real. I never knew it’d turn into this. But I’m so crazy about you, and I love you so so much.”
   His eyes tear up, brown syrupy flecks glistening back at you in the starry moonlight. He looks so happy and so in love that your heart swells like a balloon in your chest. “Thank you again for taking me to Galveston. You’re the best, Miller,” you smile, fingers entwining with his. 
   “You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’d take you here anytime. Jus’ say the words, I’ll take you anywhere. As long as I get to be with my girl, that’s enough for me,” he smiles.
   You pull him in for a long kiss, getting lost in the scent of the ocean breeze and the woodsy scent of his cologne. This may last forever, it may not, but you’re going to enjoy the ride for as long as it lasts. 
Tags: @untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @bbyanarchist @vividispunk @mrslawrencealbarn @pedrossl4t @pedroswife69 @sarap-77 @casa-boiardi @princesatracionera @msjarvis
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otomehoneyybearr · 1 day
Text
The Day I Made a Friend
Book of Memories Chapter 1
Keith & Kagari
Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | My First Dorayaki
In the radiant sunlight pouring down, Keith encounters a man in a town adorned with flowers
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Keith: “Kagari?”
Kagari: “You’re in town too?”
Keith: “Yeah, I came to buy dorayaki since you’re coming to the castle.”
Keith: "The scheduled meeting won’t start for a while, yet you're already here in Jade."
Kagari: "Yep."
Keith: "...Another troublesome matter?"
Kagari: "Our plans tend to overlap pretty often."
Keith: "...Come to think of it, it WAS you who requested to have the meeting and practice today."
Keith: “Could it be that you originally needed to come to Jade for a troublesome matter,
Keith: “But arranged a meeting with me as camouflage to avoid another scolding...?”
Kagari: “As expected of a bookworm like you. Your imagination is impressive, Keith.”
Kagari: “But more importantly, I see the dorayaki shop.”
Keith: "Huh? Oh, you're right. Thank goodness they haven’t sold out yet."
The two men stop in front of a stall with a sign that says "DORAYAKI."
The sales seem to be going well, with only two left.
Keith: “Looks like there’s only butter and matcha. Which one do you want, Kagari?”
Kagari: “Either one is fine. Which do you prefer?”
Keith: “...They both look delicious.”
Kagari: “So, you’re indecisive.”
Keith: “You sound just like Liam.”
Kagari: “Liam? Oh, your surly butler.”
Keith: “Surly? He's sincere and meticulous in his work. He's an exceptional butler who's too good for someone like me.”
Kagari: “As usual, you're spot on when it comes to assessing others.”
Kagari: “So, have you decided?”
Keith: ….
Keith didn't respond, and as if on cue, the two of them silently extended one hand forward.
Then they lightly shook their hands in place. At the same time, Keith opened his hand while Kagari made a fist.
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Keith & Kagari:
"Oh, I won again."
"I lost."
Did they really just play rock, paper, scissors?
Keith: ".........."
Kagari: "So which one? If you don't decide quickly, someone else will buy it."
After glancing at Kagari, Keith pointed to one of the dorayaki.
Keith: "I guess I’ll have butter."
Kagari: "Then I'll take the matcha."
Kagari: "Shopkeeper, two dorayaki, please."
Keith: "Oh, Kagari, let me pay for them."
Kagari: "It's fine, consider it an apology."
Keith: "......So the real reason you came to Jade was because of some trouble, after all."
Kagari: "Relax, I didn't kill anyone. I just taught them a lesson."
Keith: "When you say 'teach a lesson,' it usually means more than a light injury... Is the other person alright?"
Kagari: "Focus on the dorayaki. They're still slightly warm."
Keith: "Wow, Kagari, you're eating it already.”
Keith: "I was planning to save this for after our meeting, but since it's still warm, I guess I'll eat it now. Thanks.
Keith accepted the dorayaki with its faint buttery aroma and took a bite.
Keith: "Mmm, it's so nice and fluffy when it’s warm. Maybe I'll come by for a freshly made one next time."
Kagari: "Thanks for the meal."
Keith: "You already finished!? Did you chew it properly?"
Kagari: "Do you think I'm a child or something? I chewed it and savored it."
Kagari: "The matcha was delicious too. A dorayaki shop with no misses is rare in other countries."
Keith: "Your love for dorayaki hasn't changed since we met."
Kagari: "Back then, I didn't particularly like or dislike it. Actually, I..."
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Keith: "?"
Kagari: "--Just thought you'd cry if I refused."
Kagari: "You were such a crybaby."
Keith: "I wouldn't have cried just because you refused."
Kagari: "But it's true that you were a crybaby. You often teared up in front of me."
Keith: "T-That was half crying... Though it is true that I showed you countless embarrassing moments."
Keith: "Looking back on it, my life is full of embarrassing moments... It's painful to even think about."
Kagari: "Think of it as proof that you struggled, and your heart will feel a bit lighter."
Kagari: "Though, I admit, the training back then might have been overkill."
Keith: "You nearly killed me multiple times, Kagari."
●●●●●●●● Flashback●●●●●●●●
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Jade and Kōgyoku—
Although the countries situations were completely different, they’d maintained friendly relations up to the present.
"Couldn't that demon train this failure?"
It was such words from the King of Jade that led to the meeting of young Keith and Kagari.
Kagari: "Stabbing, beating, strangling, poisoning—Keith, which one do you prefer? Or are you good at any of them?"
Keith: "....Um,"
Keith: "I don't particularly like nor excel at any of them."
Kagari: “….”
Kagari: “….I see…”
Keith: “….Yeah…”
Keith & Kagari: “…”
Keith & Kagari: “……..…”
Keith's face showed visible confusion, while Kagari remained expressionless like a Noh mask.
As another moment of silence stretched on for the umpteenth time, surprisingly, it was Keith who spoke up.
Keith: "Um... I'm Keith Howell, the First Prince of Jade."
Kagari: "……………Second Prince of Ruby. Kagari Amagase."
Keith: "Thank you for agreeing to train me, Sir.
Kagari: "........Sir?"
Keith: "I am weak and useless, weaker than even weeds, but—"
Keith: "As an older brother and a member of the royal family, I want to become stronger."
Keith: "So, um, please take care of me!"
Keith bowed his head so forcefully it seemed like a gust of wind might arise, causing Kagari to take a slight step back.
His expression remained unchanged. However, the hands clasped behind his back repeatedly clenched and released, as if deep in thought...
Kagari: "…………"
Keith: "Um...?"
Kagari deftly picked up a practice sword with his foot and pointed its tip at Keith.
Kagari: "First, a warm-up. Ready your sword."
Next
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bunny-lily · 1 day
Text
Tether Me - Chapter 4
Pairing(s): Geto/Gojo/Reader
Summary: Sweet, cold, saintly watermelon spread over your tongue and you ascended, tilting your head back as you nursed the popsicle like it was the ambrosia of the gods themselves.
Satoru skewed over and dropped his head on your shoulder, making you lour at him. You very much did not need someone else’s muggy body heat worsening the already unbearably humid air.
“Fan me,” he demanded, and you poked his cheek with your popsicle, leaving a sticky spot behind.
“Fan yourself,” you rejected.
Suguru chuckled to himself. “You’ll get used to it and learn how to manage.”
“Speak for yourself,” the man using your side as a bed snarked. “Been here my whole life and I still feel like I’m dying.” CW: No y/n | polyamory | slow burn | slice of life | alt au - no curses | fluff | light angst | eventual smut | forgive me, there's internal monologues | I like using big words... | Gojo & Geto are whipped for you | emotionally constipated reader | (most of the tags have been condensed, you can find the full list on my ao3 here) AN: arachnophobes beware, there is a spider in this one (it’s fairly early into the chap tho) (also v tiny boi, not even really described). Summer has arrived! No other notes for this one, lovelies ♥ except some more second-hand embarrassment. A bit more Suguru focused in this one ♥ Ch: Prologue | Ch: 1 | Ch: 2 | Ch: 3 | Ch: 4 WC: 14k
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“Has this house really been abandoned for only 20 years?” You grunted as you forced a scraper under a crumpled section of a newspaper that might as well have been glued to the ground on purpose. Your arms trembled from the strain, knuckles drained of blood, your hands fighting for their lives to finally free the paper of its wooden prison.
With a shallow yelp from you, the scraper came loose, only taking a quarter of the browned paper with it. The section ripped partially through the head of a baseball player, giving him a rather unfortunate face lift.
“That’s what everyone says,” Suguru confirmed as he worked on scrubbing a chunk of the floor like he was trying to avenge someone. His nose wrinkled in disgust when he lifted the rag and observed the dark grime stuck to it. “I asked my gran, she said that she can’t remember the family’s name, something starting on ‘Fu’. Father, mother, and their son. The mother was diagnosed with some sort of illness that the village doctor couldn’t manage, so they had to go to the city.”
“Oh,” you frowned as you sat back on your heels. “Did she survive?”
He shrugged, dipping the rag into the bucket of once clean water beside him. “No idea. They weren’t super close with any of the villagers here, so there weren’t any updates after they left. I assume she didn’t, since they never returned here.”
“That’s sad,” you spoke low as you tossed the piece of ew away in the bag beside you. “I hope they’re okay, one way or another.”
The two of you worked together in the living room, peeling useless bits of goo and gunk to clean the house inch by inch. You'd already finished with the first pass of the kitchen, hallway, and master bedroom. After getting the go-ahead from Uncle Han a bit ago (you felt weird calling him that, but he insisted), you decided to start indoors to spare yourselves from the ever rising sun. With summer approaching, the lawn had been dealt with promptly, the three of you moving through it surprisingly speedily with teamwork.
Satoru, for all his rich boy credit, was actually helping. You were honestly expecting him to maybe work for five minutes, then laze around and whine about being bored, but you were pleasantly surprised by his productivity.
For one, he’d been gathering various architecture and designer house catalogues; stuff that was in, stuff that was out, and everything in between. Whatever might strike your fancy, he was there to offer his input, whether asked or not. You could tell he was having fun showing off expensive house designs, even if it was way too early to be looking at paint colors and matching furniture. He was acting like it was his house that was getting renovated.
He was also helpful with the physical labor portion of fixing this mess up, putting those beefy biceps to good use. He’d done some wondrous work in the kitchen.
That’s not to say he didn’t whine about boredom and hardship and whatnot, but at least he was working while doing so.
Presently, he was in the smaller room opposite to the master bedroom, addressing the tatami issue. Said issue being that the material was practically cemented to the floor below, strangely crunchy for being stiff as a brick, and very much showing its age.
He was experimenting with various methods for prying it off, at his own assertion. It gave him the opportunity to lean into that primal urge to break shit, and who were you to take that away from him?
Every few minutes, you’d hear a muted thud, some strangled noises, and a delightful little swear here and there. You’d learned that he quite hated tatami as a kid, annoyed that he had to be careful with it. He was grumpy that he couldn’t run about and stomp his feet like the spoiled child he was because it’d get damaged, then his folks would get mad. Now, he had the perfect excuse to take all that pent up anger out on some actual tatami.
“You think he’s having fun in there?” You asked as you lifted off another slice of the paper, turning it around in the tight pinch you held it in. Most of the words had faded off or bled from whatever liquid got onto it years prior. You could barely make out a cut-off phrase that made you snort. Left fielder is short!
Suguru sneered at the floor. “I sure hope not.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not having fun, so he doesn’t get to have fun, either.”
You rubbed your cheek against your shoulder, fighting the desire to scratch at the itch with your grubby, dirty hands. “Are boys always at each other’s throats like this?”
“Yes,” he answered bluntly, earning a half-laugh, half-cough from you.
You smiled apologetically at him. “I’m sorry. You really don’t have to do this.”
He shook his head as he got up, stripping off his yellow rubber gloves. “I’m not going to back out now after saying I’d help you. I’m gonna keep my word to you. But, I will go grab a drink and think about my life choices outside for a few minutes.”
You breathed out through your nose and waved lazily at him as he stepped out of the open front door, disappearing behind the wall. It was his idea to bring some options for hydration with him, and you lauded him as a genius for it. Even if a quarter of the options were cheap beer. 
Deciding you earned yourself a break, too, you tossed whatever else you managed to free from the floor away, along with your gloves, and got up, shaking out your numb legs with a wince. Ow.
Sure, you’d done next to nothing compared to Suguru, but, oh, your back and arms felt so sore. Poor you. He could forgive you, couldn’t he?
Figuring you should check on Satoru, you trod down the hallway and stopped in the open doorway of the room he was occupying. He was turned halfway towards you, hunched over as he scratched aggressively at the floor with something you could only tell was made of metal. Sweat stuck to his forehead in a thick layer, droplets beading and running down his temples and the curve of his jaw. White hairs were plastered to his cheeks and brow, pale lashes clumped together, lips pulled into a wide grin.
A shiver dashed up your spine.
He looked positively feral.
You should probably leave him be, you didn’t want to get caught in his crossfire, lest you end up the target of his destructive goal. 
You began to creep away, easing off the doorframe, hoping to avoid–
“Mochi!”
Damnit.
“Heyyy, buddy,” you greeted cautiously, meeting his gaze. His winter blues were alight with an untamed sort of fervor, sunglasses folded into the collar of his button-up. Had the moisture on the small of your back always been there? “How’s it goin’ in here?”
“It’s fuckin’ stubborn, but look!” He waved frantically to a boxy pile of…something. Vaguely tan and clumpy and gross. Listen, you weren’t very peeved out by nasty stuff as a kid, but even child you wouldn’t dare touch it.
Gojo, meanwhile, looked ecstatic, seemingly having figured out a method that worked. More or less.
The corners of your lips twitched upwards into a watery smile. Mainly because you were afraid that he’d pounce on you with that brutish glint in his intense stare if you didn’t show the appropriate amount of enthusiasm for his hard work.
“Wow!” You exclaimed, a smidge stiffly. “You’re doing a great job!”
Satoru ate that shit up. He glowed, preening under your praise, even if it felt like you were talking to a six-year-old kiddo wielding a hammer.
“I know!” He cheered. “This is fun!”
You questioned how long that zeal would last. You also debated whether or not you should tell Suguru that the maniac was having fun. You were curious to see what would happen, but you didn’t want to get dragged into the potential brawl they’d have.
The boy in front of you was panting, the collar of his shirt dampened by the droplets of effort he wiped off with it, and the temperature outside was rapidly rising. As hot as this image was, minus the eugh-factor of your house, you weren’t keen on him dying of exhaustion and leaving you short one extra pair of hands.
How noble of you.
“Wanna come take a break with me and Suguru?” You asked.
He glanced at where he paused his work, back to you, the floor, then you one more time before nodding. “Yeaaah, I did a lot, I deserve a lil’ break.”
He groaned as he pushed on his knees and rose up, absently dusting the front of his pants. You rolled your eyes at his show of theatrics, what with him stretching and whining. Not like you were any better, though.
“C’mon, you big baby,” you stepped out of the doorway, rotating to make your way down the hall. 
That was, until you noticed something on the wall beside you. A black dot, or speck you hadn't seen before. A stain, perhaps; a blotch, something dark stuck to the old paint. You could've gotten it dirty(ier) while you were cleaning at some point. You leaned closer to try and decipher it, squinting–
Legs. 
Not two, four, or six. Eight legs.
With a gagged gasp, you screeched and immediately booked it out of the house, adrenaline pumping through your system at mach speed. You nearly slipped as you banked the corner, your sights set on the open front door.
The blinding white of day was burning into your retinas, but you couldn’t care, you needed to get the hell out! 
Instinctively, you threw yourself into a surprised Suguru’s arms the moment you stepped past the threshold as he peeked into the house, concerned by the commotion. He stumbled back a few steps, eyes wide, then released a humorous chuckle as his arms wrapped protectively around you. Sturdy, strong, safe.
“There, there,” he soothed, stroking a hand up and down your back, fingertips pressing into pressure points along your vertebrae. It was easy enough for him to figure out what got you so panicked. “You’re alright, it’s just a spider. I’ll get rid of it for you.”
“Oh, my god!” You squealed and shook like a leaf, air whistling past your larynx. “Suguru! It’s giant!”
He cooed sweetly at you, obviously entertained by your frazzled state. “It won’t hurt you, you’re fine.”
“I am not fine!”
His laugh rumbled low in his chest, right under your ear as you squeezed the life out of him. “I can’t remove it for you if you don’t let me go, angel.”
You bared your teeth at him. “Don’t you dare leave me.”
Suguru opened his mouth to respond, only to get preemptively cut off by a girlish scream originating from within the house. Seconds later, Satoru was dashing out, colliding directly with you and Suguru. A mix of stifled noises of shock erupted, and all three of you toppled right over onto the hard-packed soil.
Suguru’s arms encased more firmly around your form when Satoru tackled you, one thick arm coming to cradle the back of your head while the other constricted your waist until you were pressed immovably to his front. He pillowed your fall, even though it meant taking the brunt force of the ground’s swift ascent by himself. Satoru collapsed on top of you, leaving you sandwiched between the pair.
This was not how you imagined you’d experience your first yukadon. 
Cheek pillowed by a rigid tit. Spine crushed by a dense body. Lungs utterly squashed. Lavender, cypress, and musk overwhelming your olfactory senses. Super sexy.
“Are you fucking stupid, Satoru?” Suguru hissed out, voice strained with pain, compression, and thinly-veiled anger.
“It’s fuckin’ huge, Suguru!” Satoru shrieked back. “Massive! Like, a meter long!”
Amber eyes glared over your head, still clutched to his pec. “Get the hell off, you’re crushing her. And me. You’re heavy as fuck.”
Gojo lifted himself up enough to peer at you, blinked, then laid right back down on top of you. Your wheeze of suffering did nothing to deter him. “But this is so comfy.”
“I will castrate you,” your personal airbag threatened.
Cyan eyes filled with spite as he finally rolled off of you and to the side, allowing Geto to loosen his hold until you could breathe freely. While Satoru was busy grumbling to himself and looking for his glasses, the pair having been flung off in the clamor, Suguru gazed down at you with worry pooled in his softened hues.
“You okay?” He asked.
You wiggled your toes and fingers, then nodded. “Thanks to you. I should be asking you that.”
“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he put away your disquiet with a smile.
You frowned at his attempt at paying no heed to the subject. “That was a pretty bad fall.”
He snorted. “I work on a farm and grew up with Satoru. I’d hardly consider that a fall.”
“Oi!” Speak of the devil. The snow-haired boy had located his glasses, it seemed, as they were resting on the bridge of his nose, free of dirt and dust by some miracle. “Get up already, lovebirds.”
Fire exploded across your cheeks and the tips of your ears as you realized the position you were in – straddling your friend’s waist, chest-to-chest, his strong arms enclosing you to keep you close. 
You yelped and scrambled out of his hold, keenly aware that you were only able to leap off of him and stagger away because he let you do so. He was laughing breathlessly as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, endeared by your embarrassed reaction. He grabbed the hand his best friend offered him, their palms clapping as he got tugged onto his feet.
Meanwhile, you were fanning your face in a hopeless attempt to cool the steam lifting from your head, swearing up and down that it was the budding summer heat and not because you got stacked like pancakes by two unreasonably attractive men.
Yeah, that’s what it was.
The sun.
The literal sun, not the sun incarnated in the form of a man that was currently busy brushing off his pants, aided by Satoru clearing his back of debris.
Thank the gods you had tossed the murderous stepping stones off to one corner of the house just a few days prior. You did not want to think about what would have happened to Suguru’s pretty body if you hadn’t.
“You sure you’re okay?” The above-mentioned man with said pretty body called out to you.
You startled in place and cried out the first thing that came to mind. “You’re hot!” Fuck. “I-I mean, it’s– it’s hot! Outside! Right now! We should, uh, stop here for the day!”
Good save.
Dumbass.
You would have smacked your own head with a brick if it wouldn’t attract their attention and make them think you were crazy. Or worse. Turned on.
Suguru and Satoru shared a glance, exchanging in a silent conversation, then Satoru was walking over to the bag of snacks the former brought along, digging around it for a can of soda. He retrieved a separate can of light booze for the other boy, passing it along as they both shortened the distance between you. 
“You sure you wanna call it for the day?” Geto asked, his drink opening with an acute crack and tss, shortly followed by Gojo’s. Thank God they seemed to worn to tease you for your slip up.
Breathing deeply to settle your nerves, you dipped your head twice. “Yeah, it’s starting to get too hot for me.”
For too many damn reasons.
He hummed, sipping his drink as he peered at the chalk-haired boy, who took a sizable gulp in comparison. “Fine by me,” he ground out past the tingle of carbonation, fingers threading through damp, white tresses. “I don’t wanna die of heatstroke.”
“How about we head to the park, then?” Suguru suggested as he stepped away to shut the front door, like that’d prevent intruders or something. The extra security was unneeded, the house itself was enough of a deterrent. “We can stop at Granny’s on the way.”
“Sure,” you assented rather easily. You liked the park. Sitting in the shade, surrounded by the sweet fragrance of the flora there, sounded like a wonderful idea.
Satoru was not as keen. “In this heat? No way.”
His best friend patted his shoulder, gulping down a swig of his drink before responding. “You gotta touch grass at least once in a while, dude. C’mon, it won’t be so bad.”
“Fine. But if I die, I’m haunting you.”
“You’re not gonna die, don’t be a drama queen,” he said pragmatically.
You simpered to yourself as you went to grab Suguru’s backpack, zipping it up to keep everything inside. The last thing you needed was to embarrass yourself more by spilling everything. You grabbed one of the straps, ready to hoist it over your shoulder, just for a big hand to grab it by the top handle and tug it out of your palms.
You didn’t even get a second to prepare to fight for it, the coarse material easily slipping from your grip in a pathetic display of weakness. Your guard wasn’t up. You never stand a chance.
Your head snapped up to find Geto himself, his bag resting against his back as he held it by that same handle, fingers half-closed near his shoulder. He gave you a charming grin, eyes squinted from the squish of his cheeks. 
“Hey!” You gaped, hopping up to your feet. “I can carry it, I’m not helpless!”
The hell you aren’t.
He tipped his head back to finish off his drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing and causing more sweat to form on your brow, then tucked the empty can into his pocket to properly toss out later. “You aren’t,” he agreed, ruffling your hair affectionately with his now free hand, “but what kind of gentleman would I be if I let the lovely lady do all the work?”
All the work? You barely did any work. But, you did like being called lovely, so you supposed you could let it go this once.
Satoru scoffed. “Gentleman? You watched Shoko lug a heavy ass box of shit up two flights of stairs just last week. Hardly call that gentlemanly.”
“You think I’m going anywhere near Shoko and her medical supplies?” Honey-toned irises shifted from you to him. “Hell no. She’d have my head on a pike if I even got close to them.”
“You won’t hold the door open for Utahime,” he accused.
“I’ve held the door for her before. The only person I wouldn’t hold the door for is you, Satoru,” Suguru’s hand drifted to rest below the nape of your neck, scorching the exposed skin there.
He pressed lightly, urging you to start walking with them in the direction of town.
The 6’3” child moped, his eyes drooping. “My own best friend hates me. Practically my brother, and he wants me to die.”
Geto rolled his eyes and bent down to stage-whisper to you. “Drama queen.”
“I heard that!” Satoru exclaimed.
“That was the point.”
You sighed with levity, shaking your head. “Could you two at least try to not kill each other until we get to Granny’s?”
“No promises,” they both responded in unison.
They bickered back and forth over your head, one using you as a shield while the other used you as an excuse to ‘behave’. Not that it stopped either of them from hurling immature threats and insults, each one making you think about how a butterfly felt more scary than either of them.
Or, your presence was taming them after all, and they were more vicious when they didn’t have someone standing guard. What would happen if you were on the other side of one of them? Would the result be the same?
Since when were you into psychology?
“Oi,” a finger jabbed into your cheek, bringing you back to the present, where your trio was crossing over the bridge. “Don’t zone out. Pay attention to me.”
You sent the offending boy a sidelong glance, meeting his intensely cobalt, insisting stare, yet he reveled in it all the same. Attention was attention.
“I’m not zoning out,” liar, “I’m just thinking.”
“About what? About us?” He teased, poking your cheek again.
He squawked and jumped back when you bluffed a strike at him, your teeth snapping dangerously close to his finger.
“Not like that!” He hissed, nursing his finger to his chest. He went as far as pressing the digit against the likely lukewarm can of soda he still had, exaggerating his obvious injury. You know, the one that didn’t exist.
Suguru barked out a laugh. “Like I said; drama queen.”
Satoru harrumphed, mumbling incoherent grievances as he pressed the rim of his drink to his lips, presumably to ‘politely’ muffle his quips with sips of carbonation.
You wanted to bully him a little more, ribbing him when you had the high ground was too much fun.
Geto would probably have more material for you to work with.
“Hey, Suguwu, do you–” you abruptly cut yourself off and slapped a hand over your mouth.
So much for high ground.
Satoru snorted his soda out through his nose and yowled, crying out in pain between guffaws as he clutched his hand over his lips in a hopeless attempt to catch any spare liquid.
Suguru raised a brow at you, a bemused smile spreading lazily across his face, turning his eyes into mirthful, mischievous crescents. “Pardon?”
Your entire face glowing a deep shade of vermillion. “I– can we just pretend–”
“Suguwu!” Gojo wheezed, arms coiling around his stomach, free hand grasping the side of his shirt for dear life. “Y’hear that, Suguwu? Think the lady has something to say, Suguwu. Hah!”
“Don't tease her so much, Satoru. I think it's cute,” he said, adjusting his backpack to hang on his back by one strap.
“Can you, please, just let me die now,” you grumbled, hiding your face with your hand placed flat along the side. You felt like you pulled the pin on a flashbang but forgot to throw it.
Gojo wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm, coughing out whatever liquid had gotten caught down the wrong pipe. You could hear him crooning at you, but you were trying desperately to focus on your destination as it came into view, hoping and praying that Granny would save you.
Or someone, anyone, else.
“Hello!”
Prayers answered! For once!
Your head perked up at the sound of a familiar voice as you approached the store, and you were immensely grateful for the divine timing of your arrival. Candied reprieve kissed your skin, easing your humiliation right away.
“Iori-san!” You called back, returning the wave she sent you in greeting. Spotting a head of brunette hair next to her, you shifted your attention to her companion, lighting up further with both relief and joy. “Oh, hey–”
“Aha!” Satoru jogged forward and spun around, throwing his arm around a less-than-amused Shoko’s shoulders. “This is Ieiri Shoko, she’s the doctor I warn– told you about!”
“Ah, we already met,” you grinned at Shoko, who gave you a ‘can you believe this shit?’ look.
“Wait, what?” He blinked at you. “Really?”
You nodded in confirmation. “Yeah. She called you an idiot.”
Suguru snorted into his palm, briskly facing away to poorly conceal his swallowed back laughter. 
Satoru balked, blinking between you and your mutual friend when she shoved his arm off her. “When was this?”
“Uh…” You pressed your curved index against your chin, calculating. “Same day you and I met, actually.”
He looked completely aghast, utterly betrayed. “Wh– that was ages ago! Why didn’t you tell me!?”
You lifted and dropped your shoulders, grinning sheepishly. “Didn’t cross my mind?”
Deflating with a wispy wheeze that imitated a sad balloon, he pouted and turned his back on the entire group. “Can’t trust anyone around here. Keepin’ secrets, callin’ me a drama queen and an idiot.
Shoko rolled her eyes. “You are a drama queen and an idiot, Satoru,” she grunted and shook her head, then shot a relaxed smile your way. “Thanks for the macarons, by the way. They were delicious.”
“Yeah!” Utahime bobbed her head. “You’re an amazing baker.”
You scratched your neck with one hand and patted Satoru’s back with the other to comfort him. “I actually only know how to make macarons.”
Utahime shuffled closer to you, mouth parted with disbelief. “What? No way! I bet you’d make a great baker! Nothing like that idiot over there,” the bridge of her nose wrinkled with distaste as she sent the whining baby a scathing side-eye.
“I told you she bullies me!” He was looking your way in an instant. “It’s her fault I’m like this! How is any of this fair?”
“She’s older than you, so she gets to bully you,” Shoko stated. “Sibling rules.”
“We are not siblings!” Utahime shouted, nose and forehead flushed red with anger. “Shoko! How could you say that!”
Satoru took that statement and ran. “By that logic, I get to bully Suguru!”
“You already do,” Geto responded.
You blinked, and found a face unexpectedly very close to yours. “What about you, huh?” Ocean blues pierced into the depths of your soul. “You bully me a lot, too. Does that mean you’re older than me– agh!”
He clutched the back of his head where Iori had landed an expert hit, delivered with a precision mastered only after years of training. “Jerk! Don’t you know not to ask a woman her age!?” 
“Why is everyone abusing me today? What did I do to any of you, huh?” He sniffled, bottom lip jutting out as he pinned his watery, puppy-dog eyes on you.
Okay, now you were starting to feel bad. Letting go of a shallow, defeated exhale, you opened your arms to him.
His expression changed to glee faster than you could realize, and within seconds, you were being crushed against his chest. You didn’t give consideration to how strong he was, woefully unaware that his forearms alone could exert enough pressure on your limbs to make a few joints pop. 
“Yippee! I knew someone cared about me!” He stuck his tongue out at everyone else, then nuzzled himself deep into the crook of your neck.
Too hot, too hot, too hot!
“Yeah, yeah,” you hacked out, patting his back. “You can let me go, now.”
“No way,” he refused, breath tickling your collarbone. “This is the least I deserve.”
Shoko was in your peripheral, a wicked smirk on her lips as she stuck a cigarette between them. You mouthed help me to her, and gaped when she pretended to get distracted and miss your S.O.S. request. 
Screw Shoko, Utahime was your favorite person now. She was by you in a snap, prying the arms of steel keeping you caged off of you. Her strength was impressive, especially given that Satoru was actively fighting her on it. There was a hand on your shoulder, coaxing you to duck down under their arms, and dash into the safe haven that was Granny’s shop.
Sweet, sweet AC.
You visibly shuddered as a blast of arctic air hit you. Heaven was in all the things easily taken for granted.
The chime of the bell summoned the old lady out of thin air – or it might have been her ‘you’ senses, she had a keen perception for when you’d be coming.
“Oh, hello!” She welcomed you warmly, wholly ignoring the second person with you as she scurried across the floor to reach you.
Granny grasped you by the shoulders and pulled you close, pressing a couple wet, loud kisses on your cheeks, right in front of your ears, making your eardrums pop. Your theory that the sound of kisses grew louder with age was gaining credence.
“How are you feeling, dear? You aren’t working too hard, are you?” She planted the back of her hand against your forehead, steamrolling right along and not giving you a chance to respond. “Oh, my, you’re so warm! Are you feeling feverish? Sick? I’m telling you, you should leave that house to the men who are used to working in those conditions.”
“Granny–”
“Sit, sit, let me get you some water,” she nudged you towards the familiar stool you’d taken respite on many times now, ready to zip away to retrieve that promised glass of water.
“Hey, Granny,” Suguru interrupted that plan by raising a hand in greeting, only to be subsequently pummeled by an angered grandmother. “Ow–”
“Some man you are, letting a lady get ill!” She shamed him.
You immediately hopped up, bolting to his rescue. “Granny! Granny, I’m not sick, it’s okay! It’s just hot outside today.”
She stopped her volley of attacks on the poor, innocent man to take in your appearance. She lifted your arms, eyeing down your figure carefully, then hmphed.
“My apologies, darling,” she reached up to pinch Suguru’s cheek, which somehow looked more painful than the fairly weak smacks she delivered earlier. She was easily able to tug him down to be eye-to-eye with her. “But you have been taking care of her, haven’t you?”
Still, he put on a smile and nodded. “Of course, I have been.”
She smiled broadly at him and released his cheek, patting it gently twice. “My, what a good boy you are. But, if I hear you’ve been mistreating her, I won’t hesitate to beat you with my geta and bury you beside that fish of yours.”
Suguru grimaced as he rubbed the tender spot she had pinched, rising back up to his full height. “Ouch, Granny. Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping an eye on her.”
You planted your hands on your hips, eye twitching with irritation. “I’m right here. And, I can take care of myself, you know?”
“I carry extra bottles of water because you always underestimate how thirsty you get,” he fired back. “You sweat it out faster than you think you do.”
You coughed into your fist. That was fucking embarrassing. Now you were worried you had a sweating problem. “Maybe I’m a little forgetful, but it’s not that bad.”
This time, Granny was on your ass. “You need to take better care of yourself!”
“Granny–”
“What if you didn’t have such a dependable, strong, young man to take care of you?” She tutted in disappointment. “What about when your husband is away at work?” – HUSBAND!? – “Will you forget to drink water then, too?”
You half-inhaled your spit, looking up towards Suguru for help in getting out of your pseudo-grandmother’s scolding–
You almost questioned if you were imagining the flashing dots outlining him – or, rather, where he used to be. A quick twist of your head proved he had already sauntered off somewhere towards the back of the store, if the thump of a fridge door was anything to go by.
“Are you listening to me, young lady?” Holy shit, for being an older woman, her pinches hurt.
“Ai– yes, I’m listening,” you assured her, wincing. Looks like you had no savior to get you out of this one. There was some muffled yelling outside the glass pane behind you, implying that the three that didn’t come in were too busy squabbling to see you getting reprimanded.
Though, knowing Satoru, he’d just use this as ammunition against you.
She jiggled your cheek. “Very good. You’re a beautiful woman, you need to take care of yourself. Lots of water, avoid direct sunlight, make sure you eat well, all that. Understood?”
“Understood,” you assented.
That good-natured smile of hers was back, and you were pulled into yet another hug. “D’aw, I can’t stay mad at you, you’re too sweet. Don’t go letting anyone take advantage of that.”
There was only so much of the embrace you could return when your arms were pinned to your sides by your unnaturally brawny kinda-grandma, leaving you to awkwardly prop your chin on her shoulder. “I know, Granny.”
That was a lesson you learned a long time ago.
You observed Suguru as he walked between the aisles while he grabbed some stuff, his head sticking out high above the shelves. When he emerged back out at the front, you were seated on the stool that basically belonged to you at this point. He carefully set his gathered spoils on the counter next to the cash register, then slipped past you to go behind the counter. 
His hand briefly rubbed your knee, something you noticed he did from time to time. While he wasn’t nearly as touchy as Satoru, who didn’t know the definition of personal space, he did often give you comforting nudges like that.
You noted with curiosity how familiar he seemed with ringing up his products by himself, working swiftly to tally them. Based on Granny’s lack of reaction when she returned with a mug, she trusted him to pay properly.
Smooth ceramic was placed within your palms, and you brought it up to guzzle down the life-saving liquid within. Damn, Suguru was right, you had no idea how thirsty you were. In terms of hydration, anyway. You were painfully aware of your other shortcomings.
“How’s that house of yours coming along?” She asked, resting a weathered hand on your upper thigh.
You hummed past a gulp, then answered. “Good, I think. We’re still washing the floors, but we’ve already cleaned up a lot. Satoru’s been dealing with the tatami in one of the rooms. It’s been stubborn as hell so far.”
“Try soaking it for a while beforehand,” she suggested. “And ventilate well. Goodness knows what’s been in there.”
Comforting. “We have been, don’t worry. Suguru managed to get all the windows open, which has been a huge relief.”
The elder leaned in close to you, ‘whispering’ in what could have only been a singular decibel quieter than normal talking. “See? Reliable, strong man. He’d take good care of you, I’ve known him since he was a child. Very dependable.”
Wha–
Was she trying to set you up with him!?
You glared at him when you heard him laughing under his breath, having heard her suggestion. It’d be more shocking if he didn’t.
Instead of coming to dispel her wild offer, he stuffed his goods away into a bag and walked towards the exit. You got up to follow after hastily finishing your drink and letting her take the empty mug from you, fully intending to give them both a piece of your mind the next chance you got. “Thank you for the water, Granny. We’ll head out, now.”
“I left some extra cash for you, Granny,” Suguru said as he held the door open for you. “From my mom, paying you back.”
She clicked her tongue. “I told her not to worry about it. Be safe, you two. Suguru, tell your mother to sleep with one eye open.”
“Will do,” he agreed too easily for such a casual threat, pushing you out into the humid summer air, and you were tempted to return to the sanctity of her air-conditioned shop. 
“You’re back! Thank God!” Utahime ushered you further away from your salvation, to which you whined and peered back at it forlornly. “Come with me to the shrine! I found more mythological history books recently, and you promised to tell me about Sne– sneguh– snah?”
“Snegurochka,” you corrected.
“Yeah! Her!”
A limb wrapped around your middle, drawing you back into a board chest. “No can do, Utahime!” Satoru shut her down cheerily, pressing his cheek against yours. “She already agreed to go on a date with me to the park.”
Utahime’s appalled expression was mirrored in your own. Her upper lip lifted in a snarl directed at your captor and…date, apparently.
“Like hell! I’m not letting you corrupt my friend!” She growled.
“Corrupt?” He pouted, playing the part of virtuous maiden. “Me? Why, I’d never.”
Suguru crossed his arms over his chest. “With us, Satoru. Don’t forget about me.”
“Hard to when your head is so big,” the other boy snapped in return.
You gawked at Geto, disbelieving. He was supposed to be your savior! “It is not a date! Don’t go making Iori-san and Shoko think the wrong things!”
“Welp, I gotta head back to the clinic,” Shoko said as her name was called, beginning to walk past. She patted your bicep on the way. “Good luck.”
“Shoko!” You cried out after her. “Come back here!”
She merely waved over her shoulder with her cigarette pinched between her fingers, blowing out a stream of smoke.
Utahime cupped your face in her hands, expression taut with seriousness. “Blink twice if they’re holding you prisoner.”
You heard ‘blink’ and went with it, batting your eyes as fast as you could.
“I knew it!” She bayed, tugging at Satoru’s arms – but she couldn’t free you. “Let go of her, you dog!”
He jerked his head towards the hill her shrine sat atop and gasped theatrically. “Oh, no! Is that a fire near your shrine?”
“What!?” She whirled around in horror, opening up the opportunity for him to tow you away, one arm staying around your waist while he led you into an unwilling sprint.
“Ohp, so sorry, guess I was wrong!” He yelled back, giggling at the rage painted all over her twisted expression.
“Satoru!” She shrieked, watching with grit teeth as Suguru jogged to catch up. “Yeah! Get him, Suguru–” Her jaw dropped when he grabbed your hand with his free one, making you run faster. “Oh, Heaven’s sake, not you, too!”
What the fuck! You didn’t agree to extra exercise today! And poor Utahime! You really hoped she wasn’t assuming things about your relationship with the men.
“Hey– guys! Slow down, damnit!” You heaved out. “Ugh! You two are awful!”
They simply laughed, hauling you right along to the park. Their long ass strides made this hell for you, and you were certain that if the park wasn’t so close, you would have eaten shit and died from the amount of times you stumbled. Their tight grips kept you from falling, and you partially wished they’d just let you collapse.
Pavement gave way to grass, the impact of your shoes becoming dulled. After running a few steps further, they finally gave you mercy and let go of you, slowing their gaits to a stop.
You slapped your hands against your knees, greedily sucking in air through the ache in your throat.
“You two–” pant, “really–” pant, “fucking–” pant, “suck.”
Satoru snickered and smoothed a hand over your messy tendrils, ignoring your death stare, finding it humorous in your current state. “Aww, come on! That was fun!”
“You’re gonna give Iori-san and Shoko the wrong idea,” you groaned, wiping wetness off your brow.
He feigned innocence. “What idea?”
Bastard.
“That we– tch,” you took in one more deep breath to catch your breath. “Nevermind. Shut up.”
“Don’t be like that!” He purred, right on your tail as you trudged to a nearby maple tree.
With the impromptu run, plus the season, the heat was finally getting to you. For all of Satoru’s bravado, you took solace in the fact that it also looked like the temperature was affecting him.  
You flopped down under a maple tree you picked out and loafed back on your palms, trying to survive the immense wave of evil weather that chose to sweep across the valley. You felt like you were turning into a prune, or a sponge that got tossed into an oven set on broil, despite all the sweating. You weren’t a stranger to high summer temperatures, but this was asininity.
Somehow, you survived the trip to the park, mourning the glacial morning dew that had long since evaporated, leaving the grass tepid at best. But you’d take anything, whatever it cost to keep you from roasting like a fine crème brûlée.
Satoru dropped down beside you, not doing much better than you, and Suguru slumped against the bark of the hulking plant, taking respite under it.
The shrill songs of cicadas took presence everywhere, chirping and pestering the females in hopes of copulating and passing along their live-underground-for-17-years genes.
You were immensely happy that you managed to clear out most of your lawn before the true harshness of the season kicked into full swing. You would not have lived through that, and doing it at night would have been too dangerous.
Work was very far from what you wanted to think about, though.
“Why the fuck is Japan so hot in summer,” you lamented, lethargically fanning yourself with a slack hand. It did zilch to help. “How do you deal with this?”
You squealed when something chilly touched your forehead and squinted up to see Suguru holding out a popsicle to you. You grabbed it without a second thought and ripped off the plastic covering, stuffing the crumpled ball back in his awaiting hand.
Sweet, cold, saintly watermelon spread over your tongue and you ascended, tilting your head back as you nursed the popsicle like it was the ambrosia of the gods themselves.
Satoru skewed over and dropped his head on your shoulder, making you lour at him. You very much did not need someone else’s muggy body heat worsening the already unbearably humid air.
“Fan me,” he demanded, and you poked his cheek with your popsicle, leaving a sticky spot behind.
“Fan yourself,” you rejected.
Suguru chuckled to himself. “You’ll get used to it and learn how to manage.”
“Speak for yourself,” the man using your side as a bed snarked. “Been here my whole life and I still feel like I’m dying.”
You chomped off a bite of your snack with your molars, flinching at the slight sting, then relaxed as the chunk rested on your tongue. Bless Suguru and his mother hen tendencies. Towards you, anyway. He seemed to find humor in his best friend’s suffering up to a certain point.
The newly purchased, refrigerated, highly-sugary fizz he bought while at the store showed he did care at the end of the day.  
Summer in rural Japan smelled nice. That was about all the praise you were capable of giving this hellish landscape when you were getting steamed like a damn dumpling. Winter you could deal with; in winter, you could just add extra clothes or blankets or whatever for more warmth. You could only get so naked in summer before you were melting into a gross puddle.
“I wanna skin myself,” you slurred around your icy treat.
Suguru snorted. “That’s morbid.”
You bored into him blankly, examining his clothes – light-colored long sleeves and full-length, loose pants versus your tank top and flappy shorts. “How the hell are you dealing with this so well?”
He simply shrugged and gave you that closed-eye smile that always had your insides doing funky things they flat-out were not allowed to do. “I’ve always preferred summer.”
Hm. It added up. You always associated him with the sun – warm, inviting, making you want to lay somewhere soft and bask in his glow. But that feeling was warmth, not sweltering fire making your muscles shed off your very bones. 
“You’re a beast,” you mumbled, unsure if you were admiring or fearing him. “What ‘bout you, Toru?”
“Ehh?”
“Season.”
“What about it?”
You whined and placed your head on his. “Pay attention, idiot.”
“Well, excuse me, princess. I’m busy trying to not die of heatstroke over here,” he pinched your thigh, making you yelp.
You flicked the back of his hand in retaliation. “What’s your favorite season?”
“Oh,” he pried his limpid orbs open and eyed you from over the rim of his sunglasses. Those glistening, forget-me-not hues never failed to whisk your breath away. “Spring.”
“Good choice,” you approved.
Suguru bent down from the tree, angling his head to the side as he pointed a finger at himself. “Oh? Is my choice not good?”
“Ask me again when I don’t feel like I’m evaporating,” you muttered, taking another bite of your ice snack and plainting at the sharp pain radiating in your teeth for a few seconds. He merely laughed in the voice that had you feeling twice as flushed, instantly soothing the pain away.
“Don’t eat it like that if it just hurts you,” the silver-blond grumbled, his eyes already closed again as he fought to fend off the temperature mentally, if he couldn’t spare himself physically.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” you huffed pettishly.
You partially closed your eyes and lazed back on your free palm, absentmindedly licking up the melted drips before they landed on your hand and coated it in residue. More than they already had, anyway.
A welcomed breeze rustled through the leaves of the trees surrounding you, a relieving balm against scalding skin that had all three of you sighing in alleviation. It rustled the yellow of the leaves above your head, creating a mesmerizing show of dancing golden fans, their edges dipped in crimson.
The droning chirps of cicadas, the tweets of birds calling to their brooding mates as they brought back food from a successful hunt, the fragrance of blooming flowers being pollinated, having their nectar gathered in preparation for being turned into honey – all of it surrounded you in a deep serenity you didn’t know you were capable of feeling.
Your head was optimistically empty, merely taking in the ambiance in fine detail. The lush, fluffy grass underhand tickled your wrist and the back of your hand, and the pleasant silence with your closest friends made you…happy. 
You’d been happy for a while now, but never stopped to notice it until this moment.
You found two idiots and two other kind-of-normal people to call friends, and you always ardently anticipated hanging out with them, rather than dreading it. You were pouty when they were busy, and ecstatic when you could all gather together.
Especially these two dumbasses, Tweedledee and Tweedledum. You spent most of your time with them, doing things that reminded you of the nostalgic highschool and college years you didn’t recall having.
You ruminated on how different your life would have been if you knew them from childhood; if you went to school with them, grew up as neighbors, mourned when Satoru left for his studies, celebrated when he returned. Would you have still ended up like this, a paranoid kite that was running out of thread to cut?
Or would you have been normal – or, at least, normal-adjacent? How would being raised in Japan differ from your home nation?
Home nation.
What was your home nation, again?
All that came to mind was here, now, with your best friends on either side of you. You knew where you were born, but that seemed so far away, now. You didn’t remember what the sky looked like over there – if you caught a glimpse of it at all in the first place.
Reflecting back left an odd emotion welling in your chest, like you were forgetting something. You wouldn’t say melancholy, nor yearning. It wasn’t nostalgia, either, seeing as you were semi-nomadic for a good portion of your life. You didn’t stay in one place long enough to form attachments to anyone or anything. 
When you tried to think about your childhood friends, you saw Geto, Gojo, Ieiri, and Iori. The boys were smaller, childlike, with chubbier cheeks and brattier attitudes, but your boys regardless. You remembered how Satoru was the class clown that frequently set off your teachers, while Suguru egged him on from the backlines, purposefully getting on his nerves. 
Shoko was there, too, watching with a shit-eating grin and not doing anything to help. Utahime at least tried.
And then there was you.
You didn’t really know if you were there or not. Just a spectator, possibly, but it didn’t seem like that. Not an empty, silent, emotionless observer, no. You couldn’t put your finger on it. What you were was there, on the tip of your tongue, you just didn’t know the word for it.
These memories weren’t real, you knew that. But it didn’t hurt to imagine they were, especially when they felt like they were.
You could see yourself growing up with them, spending days lazing under the shade just like you were now, losing half the water in your body under the unforgiving summer sun and turning into a sort of sad excuse for a cucumber. You could remember the sharp sting of a wadded up piece of paper hitting your temple from across the table, your head shooting up so you could glare at jubilant Satoru that concluded throwing notes at you from two feet away was a better use of his time than just whispering or, gods forbid, studying.
You were certain he did it specifically because it pissed you off, and because he was unafraid of repercussions from the teacher. Discipline didn’t exist in his dictionary. Suguru would grab the wad from your other side to toss it right back and nail his best friend in the center of his forehead, leading to a paper ball fight that you were, unfortunately, directly in the middle of.
Shoko and Utahime, the lucky bitches, were smart to choose seats a few tables back, safely out of the firing and collateral range. 
You tried to join the two several times, yet the boys somehow always managed to sit you right back between them. You were their ‘mediator’, even though you tended to exhort them rather than soothe. You did calm them down, but only after you, Shoko, and Utahime had a good show. It was payback for all the times they dragged you into their messes.
Other memories filtered in bit by bit, sporadic sections popping up as they pleased; dying on the track field together, sparring against one another, learning vague concepts in a classroom that scarcely had anyone in it. You and Satoru would crack stupid jokes until you were both in stitches, Suguru would be there when your thoughts became too much to handle, Shoko was the one to mend you with a touch that felt both toasty and mellow at the same time.
There weren’t a lot of you, but you had each other, and that was all you needed. You had your friends by your side, and you were complete.
You were pulled from your woolgathering when you felt someone pluck your popsicle from your hand, your eyes flying open to gawp at Suguru in disbelief as he took a sizable bite out of it, then returned it innocently, as if he hadn’t just robbed you blind.
“Hey!” You cried out. “Thief! That was mine! You said you were fine in summer!”
“I said I prefer summer, not that I’m immune to it,” he corrected you, licking off a spot of juice from the corner of his mouth. Such a simple action from him legally wasn’t allowed to be that devastatingly attractive, yet here he was, casually breaking the law and sending you into disarray. “Besides, I paid for it.”
“Unfair,” you pouted, staring down at your now half-gone heatstroke preventer. “You can’t just give me something, then take it back.”
He chuckled and knelt beside you. “Relax, I’ll buy you another one.”
You instantly perked up. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“Will you buy one for me, too, Suguwu?” Satoru flapped his long eyelashes and stuck out his lower lip.
“No.”
“What!?” He sprung upright. “Now that’s unfair! It’s favoritism!”
Suguru snorted and dropped the bag between your knee and Satoru’s, which the latter took to like a raccoon to a dumpster. He dug around inside the plastic until he located his drink and held it up like Arthur did with Excalibur.
Only Gojo could down this amount of sugar in a single day and not suffer the consequences, you mused, watching him greedily gulp at the borderline dessert. Maybe there was some merit to his body being godly, after all.
“Hey,” Gojo called out after chugging a solid 2/3rds of the soda. “What are those, uhhhh…maple syrup snow candies called?”
“I think they're just called maple syrup snow candies,” you filled in.
“Maple candy, or maple taffy,” Suguru enlightened you. “Popular treat in winter in Canada.”
Satoru gave a thumbs-up in appreciation. “Yeah, those. I want one of those.”
You lamented. “It’s the middle of summer.”
“But they sound so cold and good. Mm…I can taste it already. I just know they'd save me from this god awful heat. Thanks for the soda, by the way, Suguru.”
Geto hummed in acknowledgement.
An idea flittered into your mind and you sat ramrod straight, clapping your hands together and grabbing their attention. Satoru grunted, slipping partially off you. “Let’s go to the river!”
“Hm,” Suguru considered it. “Not a bad idea, might help us cool down.”
You celebrated at obtaining his approval and passed the rest of your popsicle to Satoru, who devoured it in a single chomp.
A large hand was offered to you in way of assistance and you grabbed it, getting pulled easily with a short ‘hup’ from your aide. He inspected your form for a moment, then plucked a fallen leaf from the top of your head, twisting it between his digits. When a gale lifted, he released it, letting the unseen hands of the sky carry it away.
Satoru was up on his feet, too, the plastic bag in his hand crinkling from the shift in position. “Let’s go!”
He took the lead, speed-walking through the park to reach the shallow slope that allowed easy access to the river. For someone who was about as dead as you minutes ago, he obtained an infectiously energetic zest out of nowhere. Motivation is a hell of a drug.
You caught up to him and skipped forward, unburdened by needing to carry anything like the pair. Already able to feel the refreshing bite of the water as it came into view, you picked up the pace, racing towards the cure to your ails.
You tore off your tank top in the process and threw it somewhere carelessly, stumbling out of your sandals as you neared upon the shoreline of the river. Leaving them behind on a boulder, you skidded down the bank to the icy waters and jumped in, dressed in your shorts and sports bra.
A shrill cry and jubilant hoot echoed in the valley as goosebumps coated your skin, prickling the hair on your arms and nape. Frigid liquid surrounded you, abruptly replacing torrid solstice with frozen tundra. 
“Fuck, cold!”
Satoru was rolling up his pant legs, his own button-up having been disposed of like your top. Just as eager to experience the same liberation you did, he toed off his shoes and ripped off his socks, then he was kicking up water next to you as he joined you. The crystalline liquid came to about mid-thigh for him, but that didn’t stop you being able to see all the hairs on his body stand on end all at once.
“Cold!” He echoed you.
You laughed, running your wet hands through your hair. “That’s what I’m saying!”
Not wasting a second, he threw a handful of water onto you, making you twist your body to avoid the splash. You shrieked from the pellets of frost raining down on you, his icy-toned orbs brimming with mirth at your reaction.
Suguru was still on the shore, more composed and patient than either you or his best friend. He went about methodically locating both your and Satoru’s shirts, setting them down on the ground beside the bag and his backpack, then focused on his own clothes. 
He slipped off his shoes and socks, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and legs of his pants, and stepped into the river.
Just to get grabbed and pulled further in by Satoru before he could get acclimated to the pressure of the running stream.
He took in a shallow breath, bounding forward to keep his balance and not fall splat into the rapid. “Satoru!”
“Come on!” Lanky fingers pushed back ivory hair. “Relax a bit, would ya?”
Chestnut eyes narrowed. “There’s a difference between relaxing and getting waterboarded.” 
Gojo huffed. “Yeah? How would you know what getting waterboarded feels like?”
“How many times have you nearly drowned me in your hot spring?”
“Doesn’t count.”
“It does count!”
The two were distracted, arguing about drowning technicalities, which meant they weren’t paying attention to you.
Perfect.
You sank down into the flowing water, shivering from the hibernal wet as it surrounded you. Once you were absolutely certain they had no idea what you were up to, you made your move.
Crawling along the riverbed, you let the flow guide you, using the sound of water breaking to further creep up on your companions.
You could hear the Jaws theme slowly ramping up in your mind, each beat growing louder as you neared. Trembles wracked your body, caused by a mesh of the nippy waters and budding adrenaline.
A little further, you were too far…still too far…almost…
“Rrah!” You jumped out the moment you were within range of your target, unleashing your fiercest battle roar as you threw yourself onto Satoru’s back and wrapped your arms around his neck.
The man choked in surprise, and based on the way he promptly lost balance and dropped like a rock into the waters with a heady splash, you could proudly say you caught him off guard. You both surfaced with deep gasps of breath, and you were on top of him as soon as he sat up.
Using your position of straddling his thighs to your advantage, you skipped past the torture and went straight for the kill.
Your fingers grabbed his sides and started lightly scratching at them. 
Satoru hiccuped and howled, writhing and trying to shove you off him as you attacked him with endless tickles. “Wait! S-Stop, no! That tickles!”
“Give up your throne, Gojo Satoru!” You demanded, doubling down on the siege on his crown. “Name me king, or I will never stop!”
He easily turned into a blubbering mess despite his attempts to stay stoic and strong. “N-No way! Oh, god– stop! Please!”
“Not until you hand me your crown!”
“Never! I’ll–” you pinched his hip and he yowled. “Okay! Fuck, fine, it’s yours, just spare me! Please!”
“Yes!” You released him at long last and threw your arms in the air in victory. “I’m the king of this valley! Haha, suck it!”
You climbed off Satoru as he took deep breaths to calm himself, turning your focus on Suguru, who was losing his shit on the shoreline. Wheezes slipped past his lips, the boy barely getting a chance to inhale before he was cackling all over again.
Standing with your legs shoulder-width apart and one fist on your hip, you pointed at Geto authoritatively. “You! Surrender to me now or face the punishment of one thousand tickles for defying the king! 
“Oh, god,” he heaved, arms clutching his ribs to keep himself together. Bunny lines formed on the bridge of his nose, brows pinched tight, tears springing to the corners of his amber eyes. “I can’t, the threat of tickles is too much. I surrender, I surrender!”
“The king is triumphant! All hail the king!” You thundered, throwing your head back to unleash a demonic chortle that soon turned into real laughter. “Mark my words, on this da–”
Powerful hands pushed against your side, and you went crashing unceremoniously into the river.
Poor Suguru was wiping away more tears at the point of you reemerging, flushed red from head to toe from the exertion.
“This is a coup!” Satoru announced. “I’m taking back the crown!”
“Wh– no fair!” You objected, wiping your face free of water. “I won that fair and square!”
He beamed down at you, summer skies reflected in his spring eyes. “Come and get it, then!”
An all-out war was waged then between you and Satoru, a motley of screams, hollers, and demands getting thrown back and forth at one another. The activity and sweltering sun kept your blood thermal within the oasis of the numbing waterway.
This pearl of time belonged to the three of you and the three of you alone. The seconds slowed infinitely, and though they never came to a true stop, they lasted longer than the birth, life, and death of a distant star. This, to you, was paradise. Your skin was frosty, but your heart was blooming as you skylarked and frisked with people you’d met only a short time ago, but treated like you’d known one another all your lives.
The limits of your joy seemed to shatter with each passing day, expanding more than you ever thought possible. Hell, you never so much as considered that experiencing exultation to this degree was possible in and of itself, but you basked in it all the same.
As long as it lasted, you would savor it.
The sun was beginning its descent when your trio chose to end your excursion, feeling sufficiently chilled.
“Brr,” you quivered as you made your way out, squeezing water out of your hair. “My fingers are like icicles.”
“Come on, ladybug,” Suguru offered you his hand, which you took gratefully, allowing him to guide you out of the river. “That’s enough for today, you’ll catch a cold. Let’s go get you warmed up.”
You moaned in complaint at the thought of having to walk all the way back home. You really should have considered it before deciding to take a dip. Curse your spontaneity. “I forgot, Satoru’s house is on that damn mountain.”
“We’re going to my place,” he corrected nonchalantly, as if it’d been long decided. “It’s closer, and my folks are out for the weekend.”
A hand towel was dropped on your face by Satoru, probably one Suguru brought with him when packing his backpack earlier in the day. 
“Dry off, princess,” Satoru instructed you as he crouched down by Geto’s backpack, popping open a bottle of water to knock back. He tossed a second one towards the noiret, who caught it with ease.
He waited for you to finish rubbing as much water off your head as you could before he twisted the top of the bottle off and handed it to you with a pointed look. A veiled threat to drink before I make you.
Well, jokes on him, you actually did want to drink water. 
You took it from him and gulped down half the fluid inside it without hesitation. By some boon, you had the self control to stop before you got sick, and returned the water with a thank-you. Suguru took it upon himself to finish the rest of it.
Satoru snatched the towel from you, replacing it with your tank top (also placed on your head). You blew him a raspberry and tugged it on, cringing at the feeling of your dry (sorta) clothing getting caught on your damp skin. Maybe you should have considered bringing a towel. You would have, if you’d known beforehand that you’d be making a stop at the river.
You hooked your fingers into the back straps of your sandals when they were handed to you, the other two following suit. The village was kept clean, so none of you were worried about stepping on anything concerning, especially since Suguru’s house was right nearby.
“Ready to go?” He asked you, and you nodded.
His palm had returned to its normal calidity, something you noticed as he helped you up the slope. The boy’s body ran like a damn furnace, even after playing in the stream for a couple hours with you. Granted, he somehow managed to keep himself dry above the knees, but regardless.
All three of you were tired out, and you were looking forward to unwinding for the evening. The two boys didn’t bicker much, some light teasing in quieter tones, and – as promised – the trip to Geto’s home was short. You were standing within the genkan of his house in no time, waiting patiently while he disappeared further in to grab a couple towels.
His house resembled the buildings around the middle of town, sitting on the side of the river your house did. There was a stretch of land behind it, but you didn’t get a chance to see much, having been ushered into the cozy abode. 
Being a bit nosy, you peeked around. There was a staircase leading up that hugged the wall of a turn to your left, leaving only the bottom few steps visible to you. The hallway straight ahead was clean and minimalist, likely leading to a dining room, if you had to guess. 
Each home had its own unique smell, and his smelled of spices and something faintly earthy, like fresh soil.
“Here we go,” Suguru announced his return, rounding the corner with a few towels in tow. He tossed one down at your feet above the genkan, motioning for you to step onto it. Obeying, you moved out of the pit, allowing him to layer a second towel around you before tossing the last one to Satoru.
“You can shower first,” he said to you.
You grabbed at the towel, pressing it into your hips and thighs to absorb the water that remained in your soaked bottoms. “Are you sure I can go first?”
He nodded. “You can take a bath, too, if you want.”
“Just a shower is fine, I think. I don’t want to take too long, since you two need to shower, too.”
Satoru sidled up to you, his smug ass grin coming into view as he hovered his chin over your shoulder. “Or, I could shower with you.”
Frankly, you were too drained to let that statement fluster you.
Suguru placed the tip of his index between Satoru’s brows and pushed his head away. “Leave her be, creep. Dry your legs, dude, you’re getting water everywhere.”
“You’re no fun,” the towhead pouted, but retreated anyway.
“Come on,” Geto settled his hand on your nape, guiding you inside. “Don’t be shy, the walls don’t bite.”
You snorted. “New fear unlocked.”
He snickered, shaking his head in amusement. “Relax, I won’t let any walls bite you.”
He took you around the bend, past the stairs, which opened up directly to the living room. While following a more traditional structural style, the interior was comfortably modern. A plush, gray couch was pushed against the wall, with side tables on either end. You immediately noticed that the place was littered with a bunch of plants. Some hung from the ceiling, a few were situated on floating shelves, and a potted shrub was situated near the flatscreen opposite to the couch.
You gawked around shamelessly with parted lips, intrigued by the domesticity of his home. “Your place is so nice, Suguru.”
He chuffed beside you. “Don't go making fun of me while you're my guest, now, angel.”
“I'm not!” You gasped, affronted. “I swear! I like it. Lots of plants.”
“My mom’s an avid plant parent,” he explained.
You hummed in appreciation. “It’s homely.”
He exhaled through his nose and pressed his thumb and first finger into your trapezius. “Thank you. Go shower; second door to your left down the hall. I'll lay out some clean clothes for you in a little bit.”
He pointed towards an open sliding door on the other side of the shrub, bumping you forward. You needed no further prompting, trotting off in the direction he showed.
Thankfully, you didn’t get lost on the way, his instructions easy to follow. Finding the bathroom, you went into it and closed the door. Your fingers hesitated over the lock on the knob, debating. He said he’d bring clothing, but didn’t mention where he’d put it…
You chose to leave it unlocked and hurriedly got to work shedding your drenched clothes. Placing the towel down on the sink counter, you unabashedly peeped the details of the bathroom while you dropped the pieces of your outfit onto the towel.
Just like the rest of his place, the bathroom was well taken care of, also adorned with a few plants, albeit smaller and out of the way. He wasn’t kidding when he said his mom liked plants.
The ceiling light gave off an inviting glow, subconsciously helping you relax. Naked, you fiddled around with the shower knobs until you got hot water to blast out. You squeaked in surprise, adjusted the temp to be your desired level, and hopped right in.
It felt like years of stress were dissolving right off you. His shower might not have been high-techy and super modern like the one you used back at Satoru’s, but the familiarity in its style brought you a kind of comfort you didn’t know you were missing. You melted into the rising steam, sighing deeply and simply doing nothing for a minute to unwind.
It was a good day, the chaos with Granny, Shoko, and Utahime included. You’d have to reassure those two later that Satoru and Suguru were just teasing. Well, Utahime. For Shoko, you’d probably have to convince her, and you didn’t have faith you’d succeed.
You glanced around, spotting a bottle of body wash that looked like it belonged to Suguru on an inset tile shelf. You grabbed it, hoping he wouldn’t mind you using it.
Reading over the label, you admired his choice in soap: lavender and green tea, both for scent and the benefits they provided. 
You couldn’t help the giddy little burst of vim you got knowing you were about to smell like him, too.
You squeezed some onto your palm and lathered it between your hands, then started rubbing it onto your body. The day’s strain, dirt, grime, and weariness lifted with it, washing off in thin and slow waves of white streaks down your figure. You felt lighter and lighter with each pass over your chest, waist, hips, and thighs. 
Tension thawed from your shoulders as you scrubbed your hands along them, muscles loosening with each bit of cleanliness you gained. It felt nice. Really nice, a calm time away to yourself to let go.
His shampoo also smelled like green tea, and you were occupied with massaging it into your hair when there was a knock on the door.
“Yeah?” You called out.
The door cracked open. “Just me,” Suguru responded. “Brought some clothes for you. I’ll leave them on the counter.”
“Oh, thank you!” What’d you do to deserve a friend like him?
There were some rustling noises as he spoke. “It’s no problem, I’m not gonna leave you hanging without something to change into. Do you mind if I take your clothes to toss in the wash?”
“That’s fine,” you permitted. “I’ll be out soon.”
“Don’t worry about it, take your time,” he said, and then the door was closed once more.
Even if he told you to, you still didn’t want to hog the shower to yourself, knowing that Satoru got just as river-bathed as you did, and he was wearing pants to boot.
You rinsed off the shampoo and followed it up with the matching conditioner, using your fingers to delicately comb out any tangles. Though they weren’t your own products, they felt amazing, making your tresses silky smooth. You would have to ask him where he got his products.
You were out as soon as you were done washing your hair. You cocooned yourself in the clean, fluffy towel he also provided, loving the texture. It was soft yet absorbent, coaxing away any droplets that clung to your curves and planes. 
You wanted to steal it.
But, reluctant as you might have been, you refrained. You used it to dry your hair some, and folded it to set aside after you were sufficiently devoid of liquid. Checking the clothes Suguru provided you, you noted he gave you a pair of sweats with a drawstring, allowing you to adjust the waistline as needed. Ever the observant mother hen, you were grateful for his foresight.
You slipped on the t-shirt first, pleased by the material as it came to rest against your freshly washed skin. It was noticeably oversized, but in a sleepy-Sunday sort of way, big enough to be cute and snuggly.
The sweats were huge on you by comparison, what with his absurdly long limbs. You tugged the drawstring to your preferred tightness, then rolled up the legs until they were out of the way and you wouldn’t trip over them.
All dressed, you opened the door with your used towel in hand and walked out to find Suguru waiting for you, leaning against the wall beside the room. He smiled warmly at you and pushed himself off his support, holding out his hand to take the towel from you. 
A quick sweep over your form showed he was appraising your outfit with an approving eye, pride undisguised. “That shirt looks good on you.”
You were probably imagining the hint of possessiveness in his tone.
“Ehehe,” you giggled fiendishly, channeling your inner menace as you lightly tugged at the fabric of the top. “Mine, now.”
His expression softened into a smile that had little cupid wings fluttering on your back, a smile you only ever saw him give you. “All yours, angel. You can go sit down in the living room, I’ll be right back.”
“Sure,” you nodded and followed his instructions, making your way back to the flora-infested room.
Settling down on the couch, you exhaled and closed your eyes. You heard the shower start up again before it became muffled by the door, presumably because of Satoru. You weren’t left waiting long, the five or so minutes you were alone flying by. The padding of feet signaled you to Suguru’s return, your eyes prying open halfway to peer languidly at him.
“Here,” he jutted his chin towards you. “Sit on the floor, I’ll do your hair.”
Finding no reason to object, you stood and let him take your place on the cushion before plopping yourself down between his legs. He tilted your head forward, then got to work. His touch was ever so gentle, fingers diligent in their movements as he treated your hair with a knowingness you didn’t expect him to have. 
Amicable silence filled the space around you, just the shifting of clothes and the slick sound of leave-in as he spread it evenly through your tresses. It gave your mind the freedom to drift away undisturbed.
As he was carefully drying and styling your hair, you thought about how Suguru often reminded you of a cat, considering his tendency to groom you. Or a bird, like a crow or a raven, that liked to preen you.
If you were all some sort of animal hybrids, you could easily imagine him being either some sort of corvid, a vulpine, or a big cat. A black leopard, to be specific.
If Satoru was a big cat, he would be a snow leopard. You refused to take any other suggestions. The tall freak was touchy, cuddly, and so proficient in hiding himself within an environment that did not suit him that he could be breathing down your neck and you'd be none the wiser.
The more you thought about it, the more you could picture them as their respective animals. Satoru would undoubtedly sunbathe with his belly up, paws curled, tail flicking side to side happily, unafraid of showing his biggest weakness. 
You compared and contrasted between your options for him. He did like to give you small, shiny things, and you'd never refuse because oooh, shiny! His hair reminded you of crow feathers when it caught the light from the sun. It bore a faint iridescence, a chrome that shifted between emerald and the time just between midnight and dawn, in the earliest hours of the morning where stars still sparkled brilliantly. You could picture him preening his feathers, plucking out the pins and fluffing the downy fuzz. 
Though black leopard might have suited him better. He tended to rub his cheek against yours or the top of your head whenever you embraced. You could easily picture him loafing under the shade, licking his paw to smooth out his fur and ensure it matched the rest of his satiny complexion. He had the personality of a laid back, lazy feline that could turn from a sweet teeny baby kitten into a merciless predator in the blink of an eye. 
You'd seen the way he behaved when he wanted something – the narrowing of his eyes, the set of his jaw, the concentration in his brow. 
It made a tremor flit up your body, especially when he set his sights on you like that. He was capable of being a silent stalker, an expert in scaring the ever living shit out of you any chance he got, just like Satoru.
That soursop boy was surely the type to roll over and let others do things for him. Feed him, rub his belly, comb through his fur. You hadn’t seen him when he was prowling, searching for a meal to hunt down, but sometimes you got a flicker of something similar to it in his eyes. Like a passing rumination, where he considered if it was worth exhausting energy to chase down his prey. 
…Could the reason you’d had yet to witness his hunt be because of his ability to camouflage? Because he didn’t want you to see?
The concept gave you chills.
You suppressed your reaction at the introspection, remembering that Suguru was behind you, gently drying your hair with tepid air and tender touches. You didn't want to embarrass yourself by giving him the impression that he was pleasuring you.
Which he undeniably was, but he didn't need to know about the prickles and tingles traveling all the way from your crown to your tailbone.
You continued your train of thought.
Satoru the Snow Leopard would spend his days grooming you endlessly, licking at your fur until it stuck out in all kinds of wild angles. After that, Suguru would mend the spiky hairs until you were glossy and sleek like him.
What did that make you in comparison to them?
Standing side by side with them, it was clear you were prey – unless you were a black-footed cat. But given your dynamic and how the two of them liked to coddle you, you doubted you'd resemble any kind of predator.
If you had to be prey, then what? A doe, or gazelle? 
No, those were unfortunately too majestic, and you weren't nearly as graceful as those lovely creatures. Your habit of tripping over your own feet proved case enough.
Okay, so if you weren't either of those…you supposed you could still fit into the cervidae family. Pudu deer was a possibility. 
You tried to imagine it, but sadly, you couldn't put yourself into deer hooves.
Were birds prey? Some of them had to be, like doves, right? 
If you were a bird, then Suguru had to be, too. You only trusted him to primp and help you maintain your feathers. Satoru would just chomp on them.
Alright, so no-go on the birds, then. Field mouse?
No, too small. You were short, but not that short. They’d also likely accidentally swallow you whole if they tried to mend a stray whisker.
Fennec fox? 
You contemplated it, then mentally shook your head. You weren't high-pitched and energetic enough to qualify for that. Satoru would beg to differ, and you’d let him, because it’d be funny. Also, they were predators, anyway.
A brief memory flashed in your mind of something Satoru said, back when you first met Suguru.
‘I don't know,’ he hummed in deliberation. ‘I prefer bunny. Or mochi.’
Bunny.
Bunny…
A rabbit with floppy ears and an upturned tail. Fuzzy and velvety, obviously small and squishy, as much as you grimaced at those choice words of his.
Flumped right between either of their front paws, or stuffed in the middle of their bodies when they curled up to nap. Or chilling on one of their backs, your little paws on their head to watch the world from an angle you could never see on your own.
Bunny fit perfectly, a glove with no rips in the stitch.
You three together would consist of a snow leopard, a black leopard, and a small rabbit that they decided to keep as a pet and not dinner. For whatever reason that could be. Fish are friends, not food.
You had no idea why you chose to start daydreaming about being animorphs. Imagining being squished by their hulking forms in the afternoon rays, or being wrapped up in their fluffy tails for warmth on autumn nights. They were fun images to entertain.
“You seem to be quite deep in thought,” Suguru's breath brushed against the shell of your ear, spooking you. You hadn't even noticed he was finished. “Care to let me in?”
“Eep!” You squeaked, rotating partially to give him the stink eye for doing the thing he and Satoru always did. No way were you going to let him in on your weird brain doing weird brain things. “It's nothing important, just fantasizing a bit. Zoned out.”
Ohp. 
And there was that hungry gleam in his eye, the shimmer in his black tea hues. You hit the nail on the head with the black leopard comparison.
“Fantasizing about what?” He purred. Cat. “About me?” 
Your lashes fluttered and you whipped your head back in the other direction, tucking your newly dry and enviously soft hair behind your ears. “N-No?”
Man.
You were such a bad liar.
He, merciful god that he is, elected to only tease you and not try to dive into the unreasonably bizarre pool of thoughts that swirled and whirled in your consciousness like the godsforsaken mess you were. 
Nor ask about why most of them revolved around those two boys. Bless him, your hero. Satoru would have tormented you until you gave in out of desperation, just to make him shut up. Then, he'd tease you about those ideas for the rest of your days. Probably double down on the bunny related nicknames, poke right above your tailbone and make jokes about how he should make you wear a pair of bunny ears and a tail. And then make the tail option extremely not family friendly.
Heaven’s mercy spare you if you give him any more ideas beyond that. Like a skimpy outfit that barely covered your tits and had a crotch narrow enough to give you a wedgie-induced friction burn where friction burns did not belong and would not wish on your worst enemy.
Well, no, maybe you would, but that's besides the point.
You chuffed out your nose and let your head fall back against the cushion between Geto's legs. His fingers found their way back to your scalp, massaging and lightly scratching at it until you were pushing into his hands like a needy kitten.
“Comfortable?” He asked with an amused lilt in his voice, to which you chirped merrily in answer.
You really were. Limbs like jelly, squeaky clean, tired out after playing in the river with them. You felt good, truly and genuinely good.
Aversion to permanent routine or not, you’d welcome every day with open arms if they were like this. Peaceful contentment after a long stretch of sunlit hours, able to let loose and uncoil any strain in your body, it all sounded so…
Happy.
You were okay with being happy like this.
You were okay with forgetting your past and what drove you here in the first place. You didn’t mind having your eyes shift shut, lashes sweeping over the highs of your cheekbones. You were alright with one of your best friends playing idly with your hair, and you were fine with listening to him hum some melody to himself as he did so.
It was okay.
This was okay.
You were okay.
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banner by cafekitsune ♥
taglist: @kimi01985
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peachdues · 3 days
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Not quite a rec, but Compass was AMAZING! Pls if it’s not too much trouble I would adore reading a part 2!!!! Truly amazingly written and had me absolutely simping over our favorite scarred lad
Ahhh thank you darling!! Part II (and various other chapters) are in the works — I just need to finish a few scenes in Part II and add a couple of plot things (since right now it’s mostly fluff and smut) and then it will be good to go!
For now, enjoy a little look 😘
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“It’s not my fault,” you groan miserably. “I can’t get comfortable.”
With a disapproving click of his tongue, Sanemi flips you to your back and under him.
“You still got cramps?” He hovers over you, nose nearly bumping yours.
Wide-eyed and blushing at his proximity, you nod.
“You took your meds already?”
Another nod.
“And they ain’t helping?”
This time, you slowly shake your head.
And then a smile, a wickedly devious smile, spreads across his lips. “I know what will.”
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He vanishes around the corner of your wall that blocks your bed from view of the small hallway containing your bathroom, one cabined by a laughably tiny linen closet.
Sanemi reappears a few seconds later, one of your towels in hand.
“Hips up,” he orders, motioning for you to lift yourself from the mattress. Wide-eyed, you obey, your heart fluttering in your throat.
“For the record, I don’t care if we use a towel,” Sanemi tells you as he spreads it beneath you, creating a barrier between your body and your blankets. “I’d wash the sheets for ya once we finished. But if you prefer to use it, that’s fine by me.”
His hands guides you back down against the bed and linger once you settle, his fingers teasing along the jut of your hip.
“But a period ain’t gonna stop me from helping my girl feel good.” He bends down to seal his promise with his lips against your thigh.
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empressdede · 1 day
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Disrespectful .
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Chapter five
Nora and Sienna were both over the attitude that took over the life of London. She was angry at everyone in the world and she had nobody to blame but herself.
They’d already crossed those lines so what was the point of having morals now? It was a question she asked herself everyday. She regrets telling him that they should’ve ended it because she hasn’t had a good day since.
She blames Roman. It was his fault. She was fine until he came and ruined her. He gave her an itch she couldn’t scratch and it was driving her insane. Her sex toys could only do so much. And James…. James couldn’t even scratch the surface of her sexual desires anymore. Before, James was enough; he got the job done.
But after having a taste of what Roman gave her, why would she settle for just getting the job done?
The worst part is, it was her who cut off their secret rendezvous and she didn’t know how to deal with the cards she dealt herself and since she couldn’t get her fix, she released her frustration with almost everyone around her: Nora, Sienna, James and it was even worse for everyone at work since she buried herself at work for a distraction.
At first, Nora thought it that her little sister’s attitude was going to pass after a couple of days but its been going on almost three months now and Nora didn’t know how long she could take it anymore.
London wasn’t the only one who blamed Roman; Nora and Sienna did too. It became very evident to the two of them that whatever those two had going on was taking a toll on London. So both girls were taking matters into their own hands. Nora and Sienna were determined to make them cross each other’s paths once again.
Who was it really hurting that they desired each other sexually? What their partners don’t know won’t kill ‘em right? And after those words left Sienna’s mouth, the girls knew exactly what they had to do.
Which brings them to now: Nora sitting in her car in front of London’s house going over the plan with Sienna over the phone.
“I’m sorry Sienna, I just don’t think three days is enough days. You don’t think you can push it to two weeks?”
Sienna scoffed, “Girl how the fuck do you expect me to distract Tiara for two weeks? The best I could do is a week and even that is pushing it. And plus, you’re worrying about the wrong thing, go try to get her to agree to the trip first and we’ll talk longevity later.” Sienna suggested.
Nora laughed because she already came to her decision for the both of them, “If the best you can do is a week then I’m gonna tell her it’s a week trip because a little weekend trip ain’t gon do shit. So Figure out what to do with Tiara cause I’m ending this angry streak by the end of the this week.”
Sienna agreed and after they hung up, Nora got out of her car to walk to London’s door. She didn’t know what to expect when she got there but when she knocked on the door, she wasn’t really expecting to hear an argument behind the door.
Damn. London was hellbent on letting everyone feel her wrath.
When James opened the door, Nora took pity on the tired look on his face. But she only kind’ve felt bad for James in this situation; there wasn’t really much she could do when it came to those two anyways. She still flashed him a smile when he opened the door wider for her because unbeknownst to him, she was about to fix this problem.
“I’m sorry Nora, Now really isn’t a good time.” James tried but Nora held her hand in the air to silence him, she came here on her own mission and she wasn’t going to let James close the door in her face.
"Nonsense; seems like the perfect time to me. Where’s my sister?" She questioned but London let herself e known by her yelling.
"And just what the fuck am I supposed to do when you leave James? You knew I was going to take my vacation with you and now all of a sudden they need you of all people to go to an open house?"
Nora flashed him another smile before entering into the house to find her sister in the living room. "Well what’s going on in here?" Nora asked, raising an eyebrow at the mess that was in the living room with clothes being thrown all over the place.
"She’s upset because she wants to take a vacation but I can’t. I haven’t sold any property in five months, I don’t want to pass up on the opportunity to bring home some money - I’m sorry."
“It would’ve been different James, if you had no idea of my plans, but you fuckin knew!” London argues, dismissing his attempt to apologize.
“Babe I can’t just drop everything just because you want me to.”
“So you don’t wanna go out with me even though you make your own schedule?”
James let out another sigh and walks away from the living room, this argument was going nowhere and he was tired. London scoffed as she watched James walk away, ignoring her question. She couldn’t believe this was even an argument.
“Talk about a coincidence.” Nora states with a smirk on her face.
The statement caused London to turn around and face her sister, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Girl what the hell are you talking about?”
“Girl, I literally came here to ask if you wanted to take a sisters trip to Houston. Just you and me playing catch up, ya know?” Nora explains and shrugs at her sister. “What better time than now huh?”
“And since when you been thinking of this?” London questions.
“ I seen how stressed out you’ve been lately and I want to help you, I hate seeing you so stressed out. Plus…” she steps closer to her little sister and lowers her voice so she wouldn’t be heard. “I know you don’t really want to spend an entire week with James right now, so let’s just go and enjoy ourselves okay?”
It really didn’t take a lot of convincing on Nora’s end to get London to agree to go out. As horrible as it was to admit, her sister was right… She really didn’t want to go anywhere with James; but he’s been claiming how weird she’s been with him, and she wanted to do to something to make up for her bad mood swings. She couldn’t help it though, she needed an outlet to let out her frustrations.
She’s more than thankful for her sister coming to the rescue. Hopefully this trip could get her mind off you know who.
Unbeknownst to London, Nora was quick to send out a text to Sienna to let her know that the plan was going as planned so far.
we’re good on our end, Get started on your end.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Roman was confused when he got a random call from Khalid asking him to get away for a while. It wasn’t like him to isolate himself, but he can only guess him and Sienna were into it because Tiara had told him that Sienna had invited her out to New York for some kind of fashion week.
He originally decline, but Tiara convince him to go; stating that Khalid just needed a friend, the same way Sienna needed a friend. So here he was, in Houston, Texas, at a Ritz hotel, wondering what in the world could Sienna have done to make Khalid supposedly so angry.
“So what made you run away?” Roman asked during their game of call of duty.
Khalid raised an eyebrow at the random question. “Huh?”
“How come you’re in Texas and Sienna’s in New York? What made y’all run 1500 miles away from each other?” Roman asked again.
Oh. Right. Khalid almost forgot his wife sent him here on a mission.
“How do you know she’s in New York? I thought she was back home.” Khalid questioned, tilting his head to the side in confusion.
“Tiara caught a flight to New York a couple hours before I flew out myself, She’s the one who told me they were going to New York. Anyways, you didn’t answer my question; what made you run away? Why are we in Texas instead of Florida?.” Roman questioned him again for the third time.
Khalid wondered if he presented Roman’s own problems, if he would catch on. “I’m in Texas because I need space to think about our relationship. I don’t wanna hear any speeches or anything but… I cheated on Sienna and I think she knows.”
Khalid paused the game and turn to face Roman to continue spewing out bullshit. “I don’t know what to do now.”
Roman nodded his head because he understood - sometimes life doesn’t happen the way you expect it to. “Unfortunately, I know how you feel.” Roman reveals and Khalid raises his eyebrow in faux shock.
“You cheated on Tiara?”
“Something like that. I’ll take my faults, it’s wrong because I’m married but there’s nothing wrong with exploring for a bit; as long as you find your way back home. At least that’s what I did.” Roman confessed.
“If you could go back in time and take it back, would you?” Khalid questioned and the heavy silence that took over the room really answered his question but Khalid wanted Roman to really get it off his chest. “It’s just between you and me bro… do you regret it?”
“No.” Roman finally answers, but the look in his eyes is very distant, almost as if he was lost in thought. “I know I don’t sound like a committed husband but if I had the chance to do it again with the person who I did it with; I would.”
Khalid let out a hum and nodded his head to let Roman know he was listening. And he was, that confession was all he needed to move forward with his wife’s plans.
______________________________________
London, let herself relax in the hotel bed, a soft sigh escaping her lips as the silence of the room helped her feel so relax. If only her mind was as quiet as the room; her mind going to the one man who couldn’t escape her thoughts matter how hard she tried.
She hasn’t seen him since that last dinner because she knew she wasn’t going to be able to stand on business. London was a prideful woman, she was never going to admit how much she regret her decision on cutting him off.
Why the fuck do you keep thinking about him anyway? This has to stop. It’s what she’s been telling herself for these past couple of months and she still couldn’t do it.
She finds herself missing him in the weirdest times. If she’s in a boring meeting, she’ll reminisce on the time where he text her to keep her entertained. If she went out to to eat, she missed his endless compliments or even the risky freaky shit he would pull with her, like fingering her under the table when the waitress came back to ask if everything was okay. She especially missed the sex… damn did she miss the sex.
Roman took his time to learn her body, he found out what she liked and he even introduced her to new things that she found herself loving. Sex with Roman was always exciting; especially when he would fuck her in places where she usually wouldn’t let herself do those kinds of activities: in her office, backseat of his car with or without his chauffeur… almost one time in the locker room - Roman never cared. If he desired her, he was going to to have her and she missed the feeling.
Missed feeling desirable, missed the funny moments between the two of them… she missed her friendship with Roman. He was her friend first and she missed her friend.
“Okay girl; I’m over this little rut that you’ve been having. It’s time for us to go out and shake some ass, Let’s go!” Nora exclaimed when she busted into London’s room.
“What the fuck do I look like going to the club to shake some ass as a married woman?” London questioned with a confused look on her face.
Nora scoffed and rolled her eyes, “When did being married mean you can’t be outside and shake some ass?”
London let out a tire sigh, “I just wanna relax. Maybe call a masseuse to give us a massage. I’m away from home and I’d really like to enjoy it.”
“You’d really enjoy it if you stop fighting me and go out with me.” Nora retorted and London sat up and squinted her eyes in suspicion at her older sister.
“What you got up yo sleeve Nora?” She questioned, getting straight to the point.
Nora exhaled and walked towards her sister to take a seat on the bed. “London, I know you won’t talk about what’s bothering you and I respect that; can you just respect that it hurts me to see you like that? I’ve been taking care of you for the longest, I always know when you need a break, why don’t you just let me help you?”
Albeit everything she was saying was true, Nora knew she had to lay it on thick for London to agree to go out with her. London’s eyes scan Nora’s face and took in her expression, the sadden look in her sister’s eyes is what made her drop her shoulders in defeat.
“Fine. But if I’m not enjoying myself after an hour; I’m leaving.”
Nora flashed her blinding smile, nodding her head to agree with her conditions “Great! I’ll go get ready and you can meet me downstairs okay?” She didn’t even let London respond as she rushed out of the room in excitement. London, huffed as she let herself flop backwards onto the bed, she just hope she doesn’t regret this.
______________________________________
After London finished getting dressed for her night out with her sister; she stood in front of the mirror touching up on her make up as she thought about ways she could convince her sister to let her come home early.
Her phone going off, snapped her out of her thoughts and she turned to see who was calling: Nora. “Hello?”
“Hey, did you leave your room yet?”
“No, I’m about to leave though; I’m coming downstairs right now.” London explained.
“Before you come downstairs, can you go to my room and grab me a pair of sandals? I forgot to grab it.”
“Why can’t you just go and grab it?” London asked in annoyance.
“London, you’re already upstairs; can you just please?” Nora begged and London let’s out a groan before agreeing.
“Great, my room is on the fifth floor, room 26. I think housekeeping is still cleaning the mess I made so just knock okay?” And without any other explanation Nora hung up the phone.
She’s been so demanding since we got here, I thought she wanted me to have a good time? London thought to herself. The entire elevator ride to the floor above hers she thought about what the fuck was going on with Nora in the first place.
The last time Nora took London on a sister trip, it was to break the news that she was getting a divorce. What type of bad news did she have to break to me now? She wondered. Her mind was running through all the possibilities of what could have her sister acting so weird while she off the elevator to look for room 26.
She let out a small huff because she was drawing a blank, she’ll just have to ask her sister why the fuck she was acting to weird when she got downstairs. She knocked on the door and waited for housekeeping to open the door.
Didn’t she give me her keycard? London asked herself, she remembers them giving each other keycard when they got here. Before London could give look in her clutch to search for the hotel keycard, the door finally opened and when she looked up she felt all the breath in her lungs leave her body.
“Roman?” She breathed out in disbelief. Her mind had to be playing tricks on her.
Roman himself froze as he stared at the woman in front of him. There’s no way she was standing in front of him right now. “London… what-“ he trailed off because he really didn’t know what to say.
It’s been almost three months since they last seen each other, the feeling of shock is what keeping them frozen in their spot.
“What are you doing here?” London finally asks, her mind racing because seeing him did nothing but resurface those feelings she was reminiscing about earlier. Did he have a show here? She questioned. That could be the only reason he’s here right?
“Khalid brought me here. Him and Sienna are going through it.” He answered.
Nora set me up, she brought me out here and set this whole thing up.
Everything was making sense, because even if Khalid and Sienna were going through it, Khalid wouldn’t have left Florida. They set her up, and her body was yearning to just touch him.
“You know they set us up right?” He states, and yeah. If she was going to be pushed in this direction anyways, she didn’t give a damn about the consequences anymore.
“Are we going to take advantage of the opportunity?” London asked softly and it wasn’t something the two had to really think about. They’ve denied themselves what they really wanted for long enough, and if their friends were going to push them into each other’s arms, who were they to fight what everyone else thought they needed too.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Roman and London lost themselves in each other like they usually did, but the feeling wasn’t the same as it was before.
What was so different about tonight?
There was something more profound than lust and sexual tension lingering in the air between them. When Roman pulled her into the room, their lips immediately push against the other and instead of the fast kissing they were used to, it was slow…sensual.
When they broke apart they stared into each other’s eyes. The lines of their friendship was blurred with the unexplainable feeling they were feeling for each other in the moment, they couldn’t pinpoint what that feeling was exactly.
But it’s what made London grab his neck and pull him back down to her. Their lips brushed against one another’s and the hesitation made London pull away but Roman made the choice to close the gap between them. London’s helpless moan slipped from her lips and she melted into the embrace, pushing her body against him as if to make them one.
The taste of him was intoxicating, it was one of the things she missed about him.
Roman led the two to his bed, and London made herself comfortable in his lap. Her hands caressing his shoulders and eventually moved her hands over his strong arms as their lips smothered each others again.
Chills ran through her body when he trailed his hands up her thigh to grip onto her ass, that’s when she knew this was real. She’d fall victim to daydreaming - especially when her and James were trying to get into it but she’d always come back to reality. But this… this was reality. James never touched her like that.
His hands were roaming her body as if taking in this moment would be her last. Her body was vulnerable to his touch, and she could hear her heart beat drum in her ears.
The sweet feeling of his warm body mixed with the throbbing between her legs radiated more than a positive feeling of intense pleasure of her brain. She didn’t know if it was possible to feel the way she felt at the moment: fuzzy at the brain, and warm at the heart.
They didn’t want to rush the moment, especially since it was something her sister wanted to bless them with. Upon seeing her outfit, he fell into their old routine.
“You look like an Angel.” He softly murmured in her ear before he started undressing her. “Most beautiful thing on Earth and It’s all for me isn’t it?”
And there it was, that feeling she was missing rushing back into her lungs almost as she deeply inhaled his words, that feeling of wanting to feel desirable. That feeling from earlier returned but it wasn’t a feeling she could identify at the moment so she focused on the feelings she could.
At the impulse decision of the moment, their bare bodies touched each other’s. As soon as Roman was submerged within her, she swallowed up some of his thick inches with pride and contentment. Undoubtably, her eyes flickered to the back of her head, her lips separated, and her back arched off the bed and pressed to his chest. Being so close to him, was enough to send her body into a frenzy of different emotions. Not only because it felt so good, but because it was him. Because it was Roman.
There’s synchronized movements were coupled. London’s fingernails, digging into his back and the sound of her soft moans only seasoned the moment for the both of them. She pulled his head between the crook of her neck and let her heavy pants fill his ear.
At her own allowance, she caught a sweaty grip onto his arms and extended her legs wider to pull him in deeper than before. She wanted all of it, all of him. She wasn’t holding back on taking anything he was willing to give her; she’s gone long enough without it.
Their lips met again, and while he sucked on her tongue, she let out whimpers of pleasure into the air. Roman had to give himself a silent, prep talk to encourage himself not to cum too fast, it’s been a while since he’s been in her and her wetness was driving him crazy.
He knew what she wanted without her, having to ask for it. The passionate quickening of his strokes, promoted her to tango, her legs around his torso. Her arms in case themselves around his neck; she held onto him for dear life. Her cries of pure delight escalated be on guidance. He fucked her soul into oblivion like he’s done before. She would have never imagined herself calling out God’s name, but she did just that, screeching to the heavens, while she let that dick dominate her cloudy mind and rock her entire existence into a temporary state of belief.
Without any separation between them, they painted all of their essence all over the bed. Roman could feel her in every pulsing vein in his body until he’d consumed all that was left of her.
They were both so lost in the moment that it didn’t register to either of them that a condom was initiated and neither of them seemed to care when Roman groaned into her ear and emptied himself in her. It only made London tighten her legs around his body and keep him trapped in between her legs and she welcomed the feeling of his fluids filling her up.
Never again. She wasn’t letting Roman leave her ever again. If this was wrong, she never wanted to be right. Ever.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Whew😩 this chapter went exactly how I wanted it to. I’m sorry it’s such a long read😩 I just couldn’t break it up. You guys won’t wait that long for the next chapter 😭 I promise.
As per usual please comment and gimme some love 🥹💙
Tagging the lovelies: @whatdoeseverybodywant @theninthwonder @christinabae @2-muchsauce @alichesmi @pitlissa22 @sassginawanmills @harmshake @po3ticb3auty @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @dershalover89 @serena004 @reci1996 @scarlettnoir01 @kill-the-artiste @southerngirl41 @badbitchcentralinc @reignsboy19 @mzv11 @cyberdejos2 @msbigredmachine @msniaimani @skyesthebomb @wanderingreigns @katymae12344 @bebesobrielo @alyyaanna @raya-hunter01
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artyandink · 2 days
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𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙵𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙾𝙽𝙴𝙳 | bartender!dean winchester
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Summary: Dean Winchester needs a job after his little brother left for Stanford, and he’s good at mixing drinks. You happen to work at Harvelle’s Roadhouse, which is the place he chose to work at. He finds a family. He finds a new life. But he also finds you. But you have problems of your own.
A/N - My first reader series, do make sure to comment and/or reblog feedback. Set with S1/2 Dean cause I love our baby boy 😁 and pretend group chats exist on old phones lol
A/N 2 - Chapter’s kinda short, sorry guys 😬 I’ve been ill nonstop, and that sapped my creative juice
Warnings: Blood, gore, alcohol, chaotic group chat, angst, some fluff, Charlie being Charlie, mentions of abuse, Benny isn’t a vampire, Ruby and Meg aren’t demons, everyone got an out from hunting and the Apocalypse, Azazel doesn’t come after the Winchesters
SERIES MASTERLIST
three - french 75
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You and Dean were working the bar the following Tuesday with Bela and Benny, a surprisingly chaotic duo while, as usual, the rest of the gang lived it up in a booth nearby.
After the Roadhouse closed up, all of you agreed on what you knew would be a chaotic night of strip poker, almost guaranteed highlights being Ruby’s victory gorilla grunt, Jo throwing her cards down when she lost and Bela’s painfully obvious ‘poker face’ which consisted of her smirk that was strained with poorly restrained giggles.
It was tradition, really.
“Is this place looking for vacancies?” There was a redhead at the bar, her locks cropped to her chin and she sported an eager expression. “If not, that’s ok. I need a way to make some extra cash.”
“And you are?” You asked with a broad smile, pouring a glass of whiskey for a patron.
“Charlie. Bradbury.” She replied with an equally as wide smile. You already took to her well; she seemed like another lost soul who needed a family, but someone you could easily warm up to.
“Ok, Charlie Bradbury. Behind the counter.” You let her in, starting to show her the way in, out, up, down and around the drinks lined behind the counter, showing her the baseball bat in case she needed to ever, y’know, start swinging.
Charlie seemed like a go-getter, already prepared to start flipping bottles and mixing the drinks like nobody’s business.
“This place is cool.” She grinned widely, and you gave her a warm smile and pat on the back as you handed her over to Benny, who took the reins while you and Dean dissolved back into giggles.
Dean nudged you, nodding to Ellen, who looked a lot happier than usual. “Y’know, I think we did Ellen and ol’ boy Bobby a solid. They both seem more like cheery old souls rather than just… old souls.”
“Jo said she actually saw Ellen blushing. Blushing.” You nudged him back. “We play good matchmakers, no?”
“Damn right. We just have to choose our next victims.”
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You and Benny were clearing up the bar after closing, the low rumble of your chatter being the only available ambience. The door opened, and without looking up, you and Benny said the exact same thing.
“We’re closed.” You both chorused, but an exhilarated gasp came from whoever walked in, and as your heads looked up, both of your veins turned to straight ice. A woman with flowing, perfectly coiffed brown hair, creamy olive skin and doe eyes was standing there, dressed in white with a longing expression.
You and Benny shared a look, instantly standing closer to one another as you swallowed thickly on a dry throat, the feeling stinging and scratchy. “Andrea.” You whispered, setting the broom against a table while Benny’s eyes misted over with nostalgia and barely restrained heartbreak.
Andrea Kormos. Benny’s ex girlfriend.
“Dre.” Benny breathed, his hand gripping your forearm protectively, putting himself in front of you while your hand discreetly reached for underneath the counter for the concealed weapon, holding off a panic attack as the sight of Andrea brought back unwanted memories. “What are you doing here?”
“My love.” She took a step forward, making Benny fully shield you with his body. “I’ve searched for so long.”
“Why are you here?”
“To bring you back.” Andrea insisted, tilting her head and gazing at Benny as if she was obsessed. “Our family misses you. My father misses you.”
“Tell him to go to hell.” Benny growled, your hand closing around the weapon amid rasping breaths that got shorter each time, heart pounding in your parched throat. Your thoughts drifted to the scars on your neck, the ones that you desperately hid with a good coverage foundation.
Blood draining out of you, your limbs going limp as the thick fluid dropped onto the floor, hungry tongues licking up every inch…
That didn’t help in the slightest.
“I have to bring you in by force if necessary.” She announced, her head held high. “You knew what you got into once you came to our house.”
“I didn’t.” Benny shook his head determinedly. “You said you were just taking me to meet your father. And I find this poor thing in a side room!” His finger pointing at you, blind fury on his face. “I didn’t know what the hell I was getting into.”
“Force it is.” She muttered before teeth, sharp, hooked teeth emerged as she snarled and charged for Benny. Amid gasping breaths, a pounding head and constricted lungs, you yanked a machete out of its holster and swung your dominant arm.
Andrea’s head made a dull thud as it hit the floor, even more so when her body did the same, and before you could collapse against the counter and start sobbing until your voice went hoarse you were drawn into Benny’s arms as he patted your hair, chin on your head as he shushed you. “You’re safe, sweet.” He murmured in a strained voice, torn because who he once thought his love was now lying on the floor.
A piece of his heart might have gone with her.
“Listen to my heartbeat, angel.” He told you, and the thump of his heartbeat filled your ear as you desperately timed your rasping breath with the steady rise and fall of his chest. “Attagirl. Doing so well, sister. I promised you they’d never hurt you again. Didn’t I? And you handled yourself so well. So damn well.”
Inhale.
Exhale.
You repeated that pattern until your head cleared, and you gave Benny a thank you squeeze. He held you for a few more moments before wordlessly sitting you down, getting you a tall, cool glass of water.
Normally, you’d find pin drop silence uncomfortable.
Now you welcomed the change.
The icy liquid seemed to calm your nerves as you gulped it down, Benny’s calloused hand smoothing your hair back an anchor made of the strongest material your brain could think up when it wasn’t all muddled up.
Your lungs gradually releasing the grip it had on your oxygen supply.
“You sit there, sweet.” Benny murmured with a kiss to your crown. “I’ll clear all this up. Like it never happened.”
Your parents had a baby before they were turned into vampires. That baby was you, but they decided to do something else with you.
They made you a lure.
Raised you to coax people into being fed on, and when crop yield was low, you were their supply. That was until Benny got lured into the nest by Andrea, found you and fought like hell to get you both out.
You both stumbled into the Roadhouse, covered in dust, grime and blood, but found a home for life.
You owed your life to Benny, but he insisted that he did the bare minimum and refused any attempt where you tried to repay your internalised debt, and through that you both found an older brother and younger sister figure to rely on.
But only the gang sans Dean and Charlie knew. You’d rather Dean not know where you really came from. He was too innocent for that.
You thought of him, with his million dollar grin, billion dollar flashing eyes and trillion dollar words. If you had to put a tag for his worth on him, he’d be, well, priceless.
A gentleman towards you, a grade A flirt (which you didn’t mind as he lobbed compliment after compliment your way) and he looked at you like you were the only girl in the room. And he never failed to make your heart flutter when he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear when you were working and it obstructed your vision.
You didn’t know why he’d suddenly reach out to take whatever task you were doing and do it himself. All you knew was that it was only a matter of a few weeks and you were already down bad.
Down bad for Dean Goddamn Winchester.
No. No, you couldn’t be. He was too good for you. Even if all those thoughts flew out of your head the moment he called you ‘sweetheart’.
Sweetheart. You hated that name but loved it at the same time. You hated it because it dragged you deeper into the rabbit hole that was Dean and you knew there was no way out. You loved it because the feeling was like a gulp of whiskey after months of not touching it.
Intoxicating.
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bDe: who’s managing shift this weekend
charlie weasley: I am!!!
ScarJo: I’m free to manage shift
Queen B: That’s good, cause me, Ruby, Meg are going on a girls trip
You: Where’s my invite hmmmmm
Ruby-gina George: Fine, you can come
You: YAY
Megolodon: There’s gonna be lots of booze
ScarJo: Kind of regret taking shift now
Ben Dover: Too late, darling, you’re stuck behind the counter
ScarJo: I hate you
You: LET’S GET DRUNK
Queen B: THAT’S THE SPIRIT
Casanova: I’m guessing that you’ll need someone to pick you up.
Megolodon: That’s right, Cassie baby
Casanova: I’ll wait for your call, then.
bDe: a gentleman at his finest, yall
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Ruby wondered whether she was ill or something. On a grocery run, she found herself tempted to buy women’s swimsuit magazines because the ladies looked pretty. And another day, she found her heart practically somersaulting when she saw Meg’s lips close around a straw as she drank a vodka and soda.
Goddamn.
Now, Charlie was a newbie, but she’d been open about how she was, y’know, batting for the other team. She liked girls. And that meant that Ruby could ask her for advice. And Jo, because Jo was the classic glue of the group and somehow had advice for every damn thing under the sun.
“Jo.” Ruby sat down in front of Jo, who was in animated conversation with Charlie. They both turned to her in surprise and identical raised eyebrows. “And you, Charlie. I need advice.”
Maybe Charlie could help. After all, she was an expert in the field Ruby needed advice on. This was an extremely unfamiliar topic, even though she’d grown up in a family full of suspiciously close women.
Oh, god, this was nerve wracking.
Jo looked concerned, but nodded, and Charlie did the same. “Sure, go ahead.” Jo gestured for Ruby to continue, while Charlie sat eagerly forward in her seat, waiting for Ruby to speak.
“Ok.” She took a deep breath, her eyes briefly flicking to Meg. “What if… what if I…”
“Liked girls?” Charlie finished the sentence with a wide grin. “Don’t worry, takes one to know one. Clocked you the moment I saw you.”
“Gee, thanks.” Ruby drawled, but Jo covered her hand reassuringly.
“We are really proud of you.” She grinned. “No joke there.”
In the meantime, Dean had ducked out to take a call. You saw him through the window, a frown on that gorgeous face. Then it morphed to a rather docile one as he mouthed ‘sorry, sir’, which got you thinking. Who the hell was he talking to?
“I don’t wanna come back, sir.” Dean muttered dejectedly, but heard John’s voice on the other end of the line.
‘Ain’t your choice to make, son. You’re gonna come back and keep hunting. With your brother gone-’
“Sammy’s out. I should get one too.”
‘You’re a born hunter. You’ll stay that way.’ John’s voice half inclined Dean to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness.
Hell, he itched to, with how messed up and crappy he was, he ached to.
Then he saw you come out of the bar, brow furrowed in the sudden sunlight. His new home. The one he felt tentative, but safe in. Not like everything was an urge he needed to fight. With you, he just gave in.
And so he gave an exhilarated smile, cut the call and acted as if everything was ok.
Because it was.
You were around.
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Sam was nervous. He was at a restaurant with Jessica, wearing his best suit and adjusting his tie, while she looked stunning, in a blue, floor-length dress that brought out her eyes and her beautiful features. The warm lights flickered in the ambience while Sam ordered a round of champagne just as Jess came back from the bathroom, quickly slipping something to the waiter.
“This is a very rare date night.” Jess quipped, her manicured hands (she went for an emergency nail appointment) resting over one another as she gave Sam a knowing look.
He gave her a light scoff and a defensive look. “Hey, hey, I take you on dates all the time-”
“I’m kidding!” She giggled, waving him off before resting her head on her palm. “This is just fancier than usual. It’s a change from our coffee dates. Don’t get me wrong, I love those too, it just makes me think there’s a special occasion.”
That was his cue.
He signalled to the waiters, who brought out Jess’ favourite champagne. She delicately sipped as they talked, of Stanford, how Sam was doing and their chosen courses.
When a small metal thing hit her lips.
She gasped softly as she took it out, seeing a shiny diamond ring and then Sam on one knee, taking her hand and kissing the knuckle.
“Jessica Elizabeth Moore, will you marry me?”
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Text
Shooting a Movie part 4
Note: another thanks to @foxyanon for encouraging me while writing! & thanks to @legitalicat for coming up with a little nickname for a certain character ;)
reblogs & comments are very much appreciated, and make sure to read the previous chapters: part 1 - part 2 - part 3.
Warnings: 18+!! smut and a bit of angst.
pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f) / Modern!Masema x you (f)
summary: you continued to work with Sihtric, as well as with Masema.
wordcount: 5,4k
Masterlist
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Your trip with Sihtric from Durham to London had been pleasant so far. He was a good driver and his energy was always positive and warm while he also eased your mind about your upcoming photoshoot. He would be there with you, and he promised that if anyone would even do as much as look at you the wrong way, he would tell them off. You were still nervous for your shoot, but knowing someone you feel safe with would be by your side made it easier.
You shared a hotel room together during your five day stay and also slept in the same bed, but Sihtric was respectful and never tried to have any sexual activities with you during the first two nights, despite aching to be intimate with you. He didn't know you would have never turned him down if he were to initiate something, but you also held off from making a move yourself because you wanted to keep things professional. And beside that, Sihtric was a real gentleman anyway, taking you out for lunch and dinner every day and always making sure you had everything you needed during your stay.
The first evening together was a little strange. You were both quite unsure about how to behave, as you were together for the first time without having any job to do or script to discuss. You eventually decided to watch some random tv in bed and, almost naturally, you ended up cuddling under the sheets. The butterflies you felt were overwhelming when you rested comfortably against Sihtric's bare chest while he had one arm wrapped around you, and you fell asleep like that not much later.
The second day you went over your contract together for the photoshoot, as Sihtric wanted to know what exactly you had agreed to, and after that you just did some sightseeing in the capital city. You ended up roaming the streets together, hand in hand, while you both slowly began to open up about some more personal things in your lives. And later that night, after dinner, you ended up all cuddled up in bed again to watch some easy tv, while Sihtric uploaded some content to his OnlyFans which he had already made before the trip. 
Sihtric chuckled when he saw the notification pop up on his phone that you had liked the video he had just shared, which was a rather sensual video of him jerking off in his shower, and you grinned when Sihtric looked at you with a mild side-eye.
'What?' you snorted, 'you know I see that stuff when you post it.'
'Yeah, well,' Sihtric laughed a little shyly, 'it's weird to see you're watching me touch myself while I'm literally next to you.'
'You should've thought about that before,' you smiled and shrugged.
Sihtric shook his head lightly and rolled his eyes while he smiled, 'Yes, okay, just… just stop watching now.'
'Fine,' you fake huffed and locked your phone, then rolled over to your other side of the bed and switched off the lights.
'Hey,' Sihtric complained.
'What?' you shrugged, 'I have to get up early tomorrow.'
'Fine,' Sihtric sighed, not even close to being annoyed but still pretending that he was, and he also put his phone down. 
And then, once again like the night before, he almost naturally cuddled up to you from behind while you both dozed off.
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Today, the third day of your trip, was the day of the photoshoot. You arrived to set early to get your hair and make-up done, while Sihtric was present in your dressing room and just minding his own business, mainly scrolling on his phone and keeping up with what was going on in the industry. You occasionally glanced at him, without his knowledge, by looking in the mirror and seeing him sit behind you, looking so ridiculously sexy while he was just wearing some simple black sweatpants and a loose fitted black shirt, while the unshaved side of his head showed his messy curls. You felt truly blessed to have him around and cherished every second in his presence. And once you were all dressed and ready, Sihtric followed you quietly when you were called on set.
'Good luck,' he smiled and gave you a wink, to which you felt yourself blush and thanked him before you carefully walked in your enormous white latex heels to the mark on the floor.
Everything started off well, and Sihtric was glad to see you were treated decently. He was also glad to be there to witness your stunning look, as you were dressed in a tight fitting and dangerously short skirt with a matching white, stretchy crop top. And it all went fine, until the photographer, who Sihtric then realised was the Aethelred, told you to lower your top seemingly out of nowhere. Sihtric carefully monitored the situation from a distance and he watched your response before deciding if he had to interfere or not.
'My top? But…I,' you stammered, a little bewildered, 'I wasn't told…that…'
'Listen,' Aethelred sighed and threw his hands up, 'show those tits or go home, okay?'
You stared at the photographer, desperately fighting your tears and the tremble that was about to take over your lower lip. You were too ashamed to look for Sihtric in the crowded room, and your shaky hands then slowly reached for the neck of your white stretchy top, and you curled your fingers around the fabric as you swallowed hard. You came all this way and you needed the money, while Aethelred was also one of the most famous explicit photographers in the business, so you felt like you were in no position to disagree. But just before you could unwillingly expose your breasts, Sihtric jumped up from his chair and stormed over from across the room.
'Hey!' Sihtric shouted, which startled everyone on set, 'was that in the contract?'
Aethelred stared at you and then at Sihtric, not sure what to say as the man with fury in his mismatched eyes came closer, so he just laughed awkwardly while he felt his face turn red.
'Well, showing more skin will make her more popular,' Aethelred nervously argued while Sihtric got up in his face.
'But was that in the contract?' Sihtric asked again, more threatening this time as he already knew the answer to his own question.
'I… well…' Aethelred stammered.
Sihtric then looked at you and asked you the same question.
'No,' you said, barely louder than a whisper, 'this was not described as a topless shoot.'
Sihtric looked back at Aethelred, who was fuming as much as he was actually terrified.
'Well,' the photographer cleared his throat, 'if she wants to continue working in this industry, she better listens-'
'I think we both heard enough,' Sihtric cut him off and backed away, 'come,' he said as he came over to you, 'we're leaving.'
'But, Sihtric, I… I need the money,' you confessed quietly.
'You don't, let's go,' he said and held his hand out to you but he saw the clear doubt in your eyes, 'I got you, okay? You're not going to work with this guy anymore. Don't worry about the money.'
'But it's Aethelred,' you whispered, 'he… you know he's big in the industry, Sihtric, he can ruin my career if I leave now-'
'No,' Sihtric protested, 'he will not ruin your career. That is just what everyone makes you think so they can pressure you into undressing for them. But this is not how it works, sweetheart, trust me. This is not okay, and we're leaving,' he said sternly.
You needed a moment to let his words soak in, but then you took his hand. Sihtric attempted to walk you with him, past Aethelred, but the latter suddenly grabbed your arm and you gasped as he pulled you towards him and away from Sihtric.
'I will make sure you will never get hired again,' Aethelred hissed at you.
Sihtric turned and saw Aethelred's bruising grip on your arm, and he gave the photographer a harsh shove away from you to which every employee on set turned their heads and became quiet.
'If you touch her again,' Sihtric growled, 'I will fucking sue you!'
'Do you know who I am?' Aethelred scoffed, arrogantly.
'Do you know who I am?' Sihtric asked, to which Aethelred took a few steps back, 'and do you have any idea how hard I work to create a safe space for these girls in this industry? To keep them away from assholes like you? And I… I will fucking ruin you,' Sihtric nearly whispered as he got full up into Aethelred's face, 'and not ruin you in the pleasant kind of way, sweetheart. I can expose you for the creep that you are and then I will make sure you never get hired again. You got that, Aethelcunt?'
Aethelred didn't speak, he just stared at Sihtric with his jaw clenched. He knew his behaviour with girls had been awful, but no one had ever dared to confront him about it so he never cared, until now.
'I asked if you got that?' Sihtric pushed his question.
'Y-yes,' he said hoarsely.
'Good,' Sihtric said, 'now apologise to the lady.'
Everyone held their breath as they stared at Aethelred, the famous photographer who was finally being put in his place for his misogynistic behaviour over the years, and they all secretly enjoyed how embarrassed he was.
'I… I'm sorry,' Aethelred mumbled.
'What was that?' Sihtric spoke up, thickening the awkward tension.
'I said I'm sorry!'
'Good,' Sihtric smiled, satisfied at humiliating the poor excuse of a man, 'if I ever see your face again…'
Sihtric didn't have to finish his sentence for everyone to understand what would happen if they crossed paths again, and he circled his arm around your waist to help you walk back to your dressing room in those ridiculously high heels. You changed back into your own short black skirt with a comfy hoodie on top without saying a word, and after that Sihtric drove you back to the hotel, the drive being just as quiet as the dressing room had been.
There was a tension between the two of you since that moment on set, not an uncomfortable one or a threatening one, but there was something lingering and unspoken. A heavy pressure you both felt, which was building up as the drive back to the hotel continued, and with each passing second that gnawing feeling intensified. Sihtric felt his heart pounding in his chest when his eyes trailed off the road and to your bare legs, while you heard the sound of your own blood pumping in your ears as you looked at his hand clenched on the gear stick. You silently imaged his hand around your throat, while Sihtric imagined your legs thrown over his shoulders, and the quiet tension became thicker once you got out of the car and stepped into the hotel elevator. 
Sihtric stared at doors as they closed, his jaw clenched and his eyes dark, and the light shock the elevator gave when it went up seemed to be the moment you both lost control. You grabbed Sihtric's shirt while he immediately reached for your face, pulling each other closer and crashing your lips together in a passionate and heated kiss. Sihtric pushed you up against the steel wall and hooked his arms under your legs, lifting you with ease and you instinctively enveloped your legs around his waist while your lips never left his. You felt his tongue in your mouth as he kissed you with such force, it was almost painful but you were desperate to kiss him until your lips were bruised. Your tongues slid around each other's and your hand moved up in his curls, the other settled on his neck to keep the kiss as deep as possible while Sihtric moaned into your mouth and squeezed your buttocks with such force it bruised your skin.
The elevator came to a halt at the eleventh floor, and Sihtric lowered you down before the doors could open. You felt the ground beneath your feet as soon as the elevator bell sounded and you grabbed Sihtric's arm to pull him with you immediately once the doors opened. You almost tripped over your own feet because of the haste you were in, but Sihtric caught you in time and pulled you flush against him while he pushed you to walk backwards to the room.
'Eager,' Sihtric chuckled and kissed you intensely again.
Your back hit the door of your hotel room and, while Sihtric kissed you, your hands searched the pockets of his sweatpants for the keycard, but you felt something much more exciting and began to rub his hard cock instead.
'Back pocket,' he murmured and pushed his hips into yours.
You reached for his back pocket and fished out the card, then turned to swipe the key, but before you could open the door Sihtric had already shoved your skirt up and pressed his clothed arousal against your ass, while you were trapped between his body and the door. You smiled and pushed your behind back against his crotch, which earned you a low chuckle from Sihtric and then you finally pushed open the door. You both almost fell into the room and Sihtric was fast to kick the door shut behind him, then picked you up and threw you on the bed.
'I wanna fuck you so hard,' he breathed while mounted on top of you, lips lightly touching while he grinded his hips against yours, 'lovingly though,' he chuckled.
'Then fuck me hard, Sihtric,' you whispered with a smile and teasingly traced his jaw with your fingertips, 'lovingly or not.'
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The next morning you woke up in Sihtric's arms, and you both figured you needed a shower after you ended up having sex once again the night before.
'You go first,' Sihtric murmured, still half asleep.
'No, you can go,' you smiled while you tried to keep your eyes open.
'Well,' Sihtric said and paused to yawn, 'maybe we should shower together then.'
'Maybe we should,' you giggled, your hands roaming his naked body under the sheets.
'Oh, you want it to be that kind of a shower?' Sihtric smiled, then rolled over and picked you up in his arms with ease and carried you into the fancy bathroom.
'Should we… film something?' you asked almost shyly.
'Do you want to?'
'Yeah, I mean now that I won't get paid for that photoshoot, you know,' you shrugged lightly, 'I need to earn some money.'
Yesterday after dinner, and after another wild sex adventure, Sihtric had told you that you should consider making exclusive content for your OnlyFans, while also making stuff on your own terms and selling it to the studio you have a contract with. That is exactly what Sihtric did and it worked for him, being in control of his own footage and who he works with while also having a safe environment to work in. It was a new way of working for you and you needed to get the hang of it, and you figured why not make a short video with Sihtric as your first exclusive OnlyFans content, as the demand for you two together was clearly there.
Sihtric was up for it, without a doubt, and he was quick to grab his tripod and the camera he always travelled with and used to shoot his own footage whenever he felt like it. Within minutes he had it set up and rolling, starting the shoot with you from behind, completely naked and sensually leaning in to feel if the running water had a pleasurable temperature. And everything that followed after was just as hot and steamy as you hoped it would be, and only a few hours later you had the ten minute long video uploaded to you page, which quickly gained the interest of many and you saw the number of your paid subscribers increase with each passing minute.
And so you figured that maybe Sihtric was right. Maybe this would be a good way for you to work and make money while still enjoying it, as you had full control over who you decided to work with, if with anyone. Because, like Sihtric, you could also just make solo content. And with that newfound motivation and confidence, you went home the next afternoon, after having shared the bed with Sihtric a few more times though.
'Thanks for everything,' you said after he had dropped you off at your home, 'for looking after me and helping me and all that. It means a lot.'
'Anytime,' Sihtric smiled, 'you take it easy. Focus on making your own content and I promise you will be just fine. And only work with those you are comfortable with, okay?'
'Like you?' you chuckled.
'Sure, like me,' he laughed softly, 'I'm always just a text away, sweetheart,' he said and pulled you in for a hug, then kissed your cheek to say goodbye and you promised each other to stay in touch this time.
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While you and Sihtric texted on a regular basis since your trip, you found out after a few weeks that your OnlyFans content wasn't just popular amongst the porn consumers, but suddenly a lot of fellow adult movie stars wanted to work with you privately as well. And one of them being very persistent was Masema. Masema was all about making money, and he knew that right now you were one of the people who he could make a lot of money with. You knew he wanted to work with you again ever since that movie you made with him, but it seemed that after he saw your short video with Sihtric, and the success it had, he had only gotten more eager. 
He suggested shooting at least two videos, one for his page and one for your own, and maybe some explicit photos as well. You liked his idea and you couldn't lie either, you wouldn't mind shooting some footage with him, so you decided to accept his request. You met him a few weeks later at his insanely fancy house again, while dressed in one of your signature short skirts with knee high boots and a faux leather crop top.
'It's good to see you again,' Masema flirted right away with his soft spoken voice as you both had a seat on that famous loungeset near his pool.
'Good to see you too,' you smiled and couldn't hide a faint blush on your cheeks.
He looked insanely good, as always, wearing tight black jeans and a black shirt. You didn't feel the same way about Masema as you felt about Sihtric, but you weren't completely unaffected by his good looks and his smooth voice either. And Masema clearly knew the effect he had on basically every lady he met with for work, and he used it to his advantage. He thought you were hot, but he wasn't in love with you, yet he'd go out of his way to try and make you believe you were the only one for him to make you want him more and more. And so he lightly brushed his fingers against your arms and shoulders while you had some small talk, setting you on fire with each touch and making you so desperately needy for him.
'So you're good with the idea?' Masema made sure to double check.
'Two videos, right?' you recalled, 'one blowjob, which will be exclusively for my page, and one of us just fucking for your page, right?'
'Yeah,' Masema nodded, 'that should do it.'
You agreed and Masema took your hand, 'So what are you up for first, pretty girl?'
'I think we should film that sex video first because we both know you're going to ruin my make-up when you shove your cock down my throat,' you said deadpan, to which you both burst into laughter seconds after.
'Yeah, I'll apologise in advance for making you cry,' Masema said softly and took your chin as he leaned in, 'but you do look so fucking sexy all ruined by me like that,' he trailed his fingers down to your neck, 'and it makes me so fucking hard.'
'Shouldn't you save that talk for the video?' you purred.
'We better start filming then,' Masema murmured with a cheeky smile.
He took your hand and led you back inside and up the stairs. He had a large spare room set up, from where he filmed most of his videos, and it had a comfortable looking bed and a large couch against the wall. The entire room was painted a fresh white and it was cleaner than a dentist's office, which showed you how professional Masema actually was underneath his rugged and stern look.
'I'm surprised to see no chains and leather stuff,' you chuckled as Masema switched the camera on which he had set up already.
'I got another room for that, gorgeous,' Masema smiled, 'but I know you're not into that, or at least not as experienced yet, so I have no business taking you there.'
'You have another room?'
'Yeah,' he scoffed with a laugh, 'why do you think I have so many bedrooms? I have one room that's just where I sleep, and all the other bedrooms are more or less different sets for shooting at home.'
'You don't really shoot at studios then?' you frowned.
'Absolutely not,' Masema shook his head, 'I did it with you that one time, but it's not something I usually do because I want to be in full control of what I do. And as soon as I got well known and respected enough to be in control of that, I designed every room here to be a different space. This industry is nasty, sweetheart,' he sighed, 'it's better to be in control of your own footage, trust me.'
'Y-yeah,' you cleared your throat and sat down on the large bed, 'Sihtric told me the same thing. He also prefers to make his own content.'
'Sihtric,' Masema mumbled, 'yeah, he got his business well arranged too it seems. But you know all about that, don't you?' he smirked.
'What's that supposed to mean?' you chuckled.
'We all saw that livestream you did with him,' he said as he neared you, 'and that shower video you uploaded a few weeks ago. I gotta ask… are you two dating?'
'What? No,' you blushed, 'we're not dating.'
'You make a lot of footage together.'
'Yeah, but… we're not dating. He's been helping me set up a safer place too, like you did here for yourself. He's looking out for me, you know?'
'That's kind of him,' Masema said half-heartedly.
'Yeah,' you smiled, 'he really is the sweetest guy I know. No offence.'
'Well, fuck,' Masema laughed, 'you're in love with him, aren't you?'
'Oh, shut up,' you laughed and slapped his muscular chest.
'Fine,' he leaned in, smoothly taking your chin again, 'you could belong to me, you know?' he lied.
Masema was not a guy to settle down, but he enjoyed knowing he could probably steal a girl away from someone. And Sihtric was competition in the business, so if he could hurt him somehow, he'd do it.
'I don't belong to anyone, Masema,' you said quietly while your heart skipped a beat at his touch.
'I don't care if you belong to someone or don't,' he whispered and traced your lips with his thumb, 'because regardless, I'll make you forget about everyone else when I fuck you.'
Masema smiled darkly and winked, then moved away to start filming while you moved off the bed and took your position on his white couch, leaning back relaxed and seductively to welcome him over. Masema joined you by sitting next to you, and you started off easy by making out sloppily until he had you so needy, you sat in his lap and grinded his thigh desperately, to which he smiled darkly once again. He truly had corrupted you that first time, making your shy and innocent side disappear as soon as he kissed you, seeing you change into the needy girl you were for him, and he loved it.
'Good girl,' Masema smiled as he looked up at you, sitting back with his arms spread across the backrest, just watching how you tried to get off on your own.
'Please,' you whined after a few minutes, 'Masema,' you breathed, 'fuck me, please.'
'Beg for it,' he said sternly and didn't move an inch.
You then moved off him and down on the floor in front of him, looking up with pleading eyes as Masema got up and towered over you. He took your chin firmly as he leaned in.
'I said beg.'
'Please,' you mumbled with a dazed smile, 'fuck me, please.'
'Good girl,' he whispered, 'take off my belt.'
He stood back as you obeyed, taking off his belt and unbuttoning his jeans while your mouth nearly watered, but you knew you couldn't suck him off now, you had to save that for later. There was no oral pleasure planned for this video, just sex.
Masema took off his shirt and you kissed your way up his toned torso, leaving red lipstick smudges all over his skin and he picked you up before you could kiss his lips again. He threw you on his bed and tore your panties off along with your skirt. He grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards the end of the bed where he stood, and he wrapped his hand around your throat pleasantly while he pulled his cock out and spat on his hand before he gave himself a few good strokes.
'Beg,' Masema said curtly.
'Fuck me, please,' you said with your cheeky laugh as you squirmed desperately on the sheets, 'please.'
You spread your legs for him, and he teasingly slapped your wet pussy with his hard cock a few times before he entered you. You arched your back and moaned with pleasure as soon as he began to thrust into you so deeply, easing you into it at first, but before you knew it he fucked you so hard into the mattress with his hand still wrapped around your throat and the other holding your waist almost bruisingly as he had his way with you.
'Fuck,' you moaned, 'ah, god, yes, fuck me.'
'You dirty slut,' Masema growled and only went harder while you clenched the sheets in your hands, not holding back or having to fake any moans and gasps while you were ravaged in all the right ways until you could barely remember your own name.
You climaxed fast but Masema kept going, promising he'd make you cum twice while he continued to ravage you. He tossed you around the bed, taking you in different positions and spanking your ass multiple times.
'I'm going to cum again,' you whined as he fucked you hard and fast.
'I told you,' he breathed, 'that's okay, sweetheart, cum for me.'
'Fuck, fuck,' you nearly screamed and clawed at the pillows your face was pressed into, 'oh, please, fuck.'
'That's it,' Masema moaned, 'that's it, that's it, cum for me.'
You came with another loud moan and Masema pulled out shortly after, he stroked his cock almost violently while he pulled you to sit up and he grabbed your face with his free hand.
'Open,' he said with a low grunt.
You did what he asked while still half dazed and allowed him to cum on your tongue as you had stuck it out for him.
'Good fucking girl,' Masema said hoarsely as he stroked himself through his high, and he then kissed you before he switched off the camera.
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In between filming that first video and the second one, Masema took good care of you by making sure you were all cleaned up and comfortable while you both recovered. You were dressed in one of his comfortable oversized shirts while Masema wore his black jeans again. You had made your way downstairs to the kitchen together, where he made you some "dinner". You quietly looked at the salad he was preparing as you sat on one of the barstools, and you suddenly missed the pizza and tacos you had with Sihtric after you had sex with him that afternoon you had walked away from the photoshoot.
Masema was very kind and wanted you to be comfortable, but you secretly longed to be with Sihtric now. Masema was not as lighthearted and also very strict about his working out and diet, while your other co-star was just as good looking and not strict at all. With Sihtric it was always comfortable and you could truly be yourself, but Masema's personality was so different that you always felt you had to stay in work-mode around him, so you never really had any deep conversations or got to know each other better. Which was fine too, but you couldn't resist texting Sihtric to let him know Masema was making you a salad while you missed the fast food you had shared in the hotel weeks ago.
To your disappointment Sihtric didn't reply and left you on read, which was an odd thing for him to do because he usually replied within minutes. You tried to not think much about it and, luckily, Masema was nice looking company too so you just observed him while he served the food. You both ate in silence, which was almost awkward, and after that you helped him load the dishwasher which was just as awkward. And the time you spent together in his living room was just as awkward for you as the previous moments had been. You and Masema had chemistry during sexual activities, but other than that there was genuinely no vibe.
'So, ready to shoot?' Masema asked about an hour later, much to your relief.
'Ready when you are,' you smiled.
You went upstairs again and both undressed, and you shot what was probably the sloppiest blowjob you had ever given someone in your life. The result was filthy but you were proud, because you knew this would earn you some good money. You both fixed yourself up separately and got dressed again, but as you wanted to leave you both suddenly saw the weather outside had turned rather dangerous as rain and wind was gushing forcefully.
'It's not safe to drive,' Masema said as he stood in the front door with you, 'you should stay until it clears up.'
'But that's tomorrow morning,' you said and showed him the weather app on your phone.
Masema was quiet for a moment as he stared in the dark distance, mindlessly tracing his fingers across his bare chest.
'Well,' he said softly, 'I guess it's better to stay the night then.'
You agreed, not entirely reluctantly, but you'd rather sleep in your own bed. Or with Sihtric. And the difference between both men became evident again once you laid in bed together, on the opposite sides of the mattress and with your backs turned to each other after having said good night.
You grabbed your phone and saw there was still no response from Sihtric, which unsettled you. You decided to upload the video that was shot for you OnlyFans, so it could spread across the viewers while you were asleep, and you tried to go to sleep then. You tossed and turned in bed for a while as Masema was already snoring next to you, and you grabbed your phone again after a few long minutes, checking to see if Sihtric had texted you back already. But there still wasn't any reply, and with a lump in your throat you decided to text him again.
You: thinking of you, handsome xx
You saw Sihtric read your message immediately upon sending, as he was in his own bed, contemplating to text you before you reached out again. He ached, badly, knowing that you had been with Masema that night and having seen the video you shared had simply crushed him. He knew it was just work, and that's all it was, but he couldn't get over it and it frustrated him beyond words. Maybe this business wasn't for him anymore, he pondered before he finally wrote you back, and then threw his phone across the room and cried himself to sleep.
Your eyes teared up when Sihtric's message appeared, and you wept silently while you laid next to Masema in the dark and quiet room.
Sihtric: missing you deeply, angel, so much I feel it could kill me.
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justkending · 3 days
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Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 5)
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Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)
A/N: I think we are staying on track for this to wrap up within two more chapters, but again, we are both in the dark if that's the case😂 Thank you guys for the love! If you are wanting to be tagged, please send me an ask. It's a lot easier for me to keep track of who's been added and who hasn't :)
_________
Y/N’s POV:
Okay, so maybe I blew up a little more than necessary, but I tried to chill out before he started chasing me, ordering that I didn’t walk away and talk to him. Let a girl try to get a hold of her emotions for a second big guy.
I’ve been anxious all day, waiting to talk to him about some deep seeded trauma, and then he comes and screws up all of it with a simple exception to an invitation. I know he didn’t mean harm by it, but he’s a trained professional. That was not a trained professional response. Plus, stepping out of my normal routine of being a bitch to him to keep him at a distance wasn’t just a switch I could flip.
Again, I could have handled that better, but now my brain is in mission mode, trying to reprogram what this night has set up for us. Considering the invitation was for tonight, it gave me little to no time to prepare.
“What time did she say dinner was?” I shouted from my bedroom, where I was going through our small, hidden arsenal of gadgets Tony had made for us.
“Six,” Bucky replied from his room down the hall.
Great, that was forty-five minutes from now… “Ok, I can do this.” Deciding it was best to keep some bugs on hand in case we could plant them in the house, and we would be planting them, I needed to consider sizes and placements.
“Should we bring over some wine or something?” Bucky’s voice was now in the doorway to my room, but I kept my back to him as I sifted through our tools.
“I made a pie earlier today. We can take that,” I answered absentmindedly.
“Why’d you make a pie?”
“Felt like it,” I shrugged and walked out of the closet with three small wires/ bugs in hand. When I looked up, I saw he had changed into a nicer button-up and was tightening a tie around his collar he hadn't been wearing earlier. “Why are you wearing a tie?” I examined him.
“Same reason you’re wearing a nicer dress. I want to make a good impression,” he shrugged, straightening pieces of his outfit.
“I’m wearing this because we were going to our ‘anniversary dinner,’” I made sure to put the lie in hand quotes. “I had a story that went with it, but this can pass as casual, too,” I motioned to my dress and moved toward him, placing the wires on the bed. “This looks like you’re about to give a sales pitch.”
Without thinking, I pop his collar up and loosen the tie to get rid of it. The whole time I’m focusing on untying it, I ramble about what the plan is for the night.
“I’m going to give you a wire to put wherever you see fit, and I’ll do the other two. I’ll excuse myself to use the bathroom and sneak it where it’s needed. I feel it’s important we look for cameras already in the house in case it’s a setup. We don’t need them having hard proof that we bugged their place. We want to come off as simple yet good assets if we want them to bring us on board for their work,” I struggle with a certain spot on the tie he somehow fixed in an efficient way I’d never seen. “Jesus, were you a sailor in another life? Might as well have knotted it.”
He doesn’t respond, but I get it off in the next two seconds and look at him to see he had been studying me intently as I invaded his space. I see my slip-up, push the tie into his chest, and take a step back.
“Sorry.”
“No problem,” he answers rather calmly, and I look at his eyes, seeing patience there. Always that damn patience. How did he still have it with me even with how I’ve treated him? “Listen-”
“About last night,” I say at the same time, and he seems shocked but gives a single nod to tell me to continue. “I want to say I’m sorry for being all over the place recently. From last night to thirty minutes ago.”
He seems frozen by my apology, and I became anxious enough that I start to word vomit.
“I took some time to think after last night and spent the day stressing, thinking how I was going to talk to you about it because I do want to. I want to get what I can out on the table if you’d be ok with that,” I look up through my lashes, and I see the most subtle turn of his lip as he watches me attentively.
“Are you hinting that there’s a chance I’ll get to see the side of you others are lucky enough to see?” he retorts, grin growing and taking a step closer to me.
His use of the word ‘lucky’ shortcircuits my brain, and all I can do is nod once, slowly, as my answer. He takes another step, and I match it with one back. I feel more vulnrable than I was expecting to.
“You can understand now why having our plans for the night changed made me slightly temperamental.”
“I think slightly may be an understatement.”
“I think you still should choose your words carefully,” I say, tightening my smile. However, it doesn’t shut him down like normal. Instead, he laughs under his breath, and the doorbell rings.
Both of our heads shoot toward the noise, and solemnity takes over the room.
“You don’t think that’s,” Bucky pauses as he turns back to me.
“How often am I wrong?” I take a deep breath in and smooth my dress out as I walk over, pausing beside him. “Hide the wires. I already did a sweep of the house while you were getting ready to make sure we didn’t have anything out of place. I’ll tell them you’re getting ready.”
I don’t need to open the door to know who it is, but when I do, the urge to yell, “I told you so!” in Bucky’s face is strong.
“Bethanne!” I smile kindly and immediately notice the dish in her hand. Reggie is behind her, holding two others, looking like he just got off work and had been dragged over here. “Did Beau tell me wrong? Are we not eating at y’all’s house tonight?”
She scrunches her face in a practiced motion and lifts the ceramic bowl up as she explains.
“I hate to ask this of you, but our oven is still the old rickety one. The new one had some faulty design, and we had to ship it back. Needless to say, it decided to give out on us today of all days,” she raised her shoulders. “I know we sprung the dinner on you suddenly, but would you two be willing to host if we provide the food?”
Not on the money of what I guessed, but pretty fucking close to the money if you ask me.
“Who is it, Doll?” Bucky’s voice carries from the hallway he’s now emerging from. The first three buttons on his dress shirt are undone, and he’s messing with the cuffs on the sleeves. “Hey, Bauers,” he smiles yet still holds shock in his features by the neighbor's appearance. “Did we get the time wrong?” he asks, looking at his watch before coming to my side, where I've now moved and am letting themselves in.
“No, no, no,” Bethanne shakes her head and hands off one of the pots to me as she takes one from Reggie, who looks more bothered to be here than happy. Long day human trafficking, asshole? “We had some appliance issues thanks to some of the renovations we were doing. I was just asking your wife if we can use your house as tonight's setting and possibly use your oven while here.”
Without hesitance, Bucky takes the dish from my hands and the dish Bethanne had swapped for and nods for Reggie to follow him.
“No problem at all. Let me help you ladies with that. Char," A nickname he had never used for my character before, but it seemed to work fluently. "Would you like to get some wine for the two of you while I get this organized in the kitchen?” he asks me, placing a kiss on the side of my head while his hands are full as he walks towards the other room.
I don’t know how he’s learned to play his role so well, but it’s convincing, even to me.
“Uh, yeah,” I almost stutter in my response as I motion for Bethanne to follow me to the wine cooler out in the garage. “Red or white with tonight's dish?”
"Do you have any more husbands like that in the back I can steal? What a gentleman," she coos, shoulder-bumping me.
___________
Half an hour of baking the food and getting it plated, and our conversation continued with questions mostly strictly about us, which would have been fine if not for the reason behind such invasive intentions.
They started off simple. How’d you guys meet? Who made the first move? What did we love about the town so far? What kind of hobbies and adventures did we take on before moving here? All questions we had prepared for, and if not, could easily improvise.
So far. No slip-ups. If anything, we sold the scheme far better than I’d imagined we would even when they became more personal. And our discussion on being the ‘prude couple’ last night seemed to affect Bucky’s actions a lot more than I was expecting.
An obvious hand on my thigh under the table and an arm thrown over my seat in a slightly possessive manner seemed to catch the eye of Reggie, who mimicked some of the moves as if it were a competition.
In addition, Bucky kept making small compliments about how I looked and how smart I was when they asked about my job. Dropping little comments about things I did (not my character) that he loved and appreciated.
“She’s always doing things like that. I almost never have to worry about making coffee in the morning because she has it all set up just to hit a button and go.”
“You should ask Charlotte about that! She’s the reason our house looks like a home. I’m sure she could give some advice on the kitchen backsplash.”
“She may not know how to boil an egg correctly, but her baking skills are unmatched. I've put on a few pounds now that we have a nice kitchen to spend time in."
I did my best not to act shocked every time he dropped a compliment, but the fact he could have made shit up for my character and used those details as conversation pieces, yet he went the honest way (although more convincing, of course), shocked me.
“Speaking of baking skills,” Reggie nodded his head back to the kitchen counter behind us and smiled at me. “I spied a pie on the counter. Any chance we can have that to finish off this dinner?”
I was still staring at Bucky from his last form of appreciation when I blinked out of my distraction and returned to our neighbor.
“Oh, of course! I was just about to offer,” I smiled, standing up, and Bucky quickly stood next to me, pulling my chair out. “Thank you.” I smiled at him and placed a hand on his arm as I moved around to the counter.
“How sweet. Oh, Charlotte, would you mind telling me where the bathroom is?” Bethanne asked, standing and giving her husband a look for not showing the same chivalry as Bucky.
I watched her, knowing that I would have used the same excuse to do what we planned to at their house. But I was two steps ahead of her.
“Of course! Beau, do me a favor and get some plates out for dessert. I’m going to show Beth-”
“Oh, I’m sure I can find it,” she waved off, coming around the table and moving to the hall promptly.
Yeah… Not without a chauffeur, honey.
“No problem,” I waved off, moving with her casually. “I need to grab some floss from my bathroom before dessert. I’ll show you to it.”
I can see the most subtle glaze of annoyance at my insistence, but she smiles and walks a step ahead of me.
I show her to the bathroom and make it seem I’m going into the master down the hall while she’s in there. And I do, but I keep an eye to make sure she isn’t snooping in any other room besides the one. We’ll have to survey it after they leave, but better that and the dining room than the whole house.
Once we’re back with the boys, no wandering to be done, Bucky helps me plate a slice of chocolate pie for each of us, and I offer to move the conversation to the porch. Any kind of redirection from the comfort of the inside of our home is welcome.
“I love how you’ve decorated your porch. It’s so cozy,” Bethanne notices, pointing out the colorful decorative pillows, hanging swing the size of a daybed, and loads of plants and decor that make the space more intimate. She and Reggie are sat on the two rocking chairs facing the front yard, and Bucky and I are sat close together on the swing, where he’s controlling the tempo we sway in.
“I always wanted a spot outside to escape. We didn’t really have that at our last home, and it was important for me to have this time around,” I replied.
My answer is actually very true. I loved being outside, especially when it was something as simple as sitting in the backyard or swinging on a porch. I had one requirement about this mission, one I’m not even sure Bucky knew about. But I asked Tony to supply a nice budget for the porch.
Call it cheesy, but growing up in such an unnatural and dehumanizing way, you crave a small part of that normalcy you see on the movie screens. For some reason, a porch I could escape on but still be within the comfort of my own home was a dream. And because it was, I thought I’d make this situation a little more bearable by granting that small wish I always had.
“Well, I may have to start budgeting for a new kind of renovation,” she patted Reggie’s back, and he gave her a tight-lip smile. "What do you say, Reg? Do you think we can get a swing like that one?” She smiled over at us just as Bucky pulled me into his side, his arm going around my waist and his hand resting on my hip bone.
“I have a feeling we might as well have built a home from scratch by the time you’re happy with the renovations we’ve taken on,” Reggie answered with a nod before taking a swig from his beer. “Get that recipe for the pie from Charlotte, and I’ll consider buying you a new porch,” he winked my way and turned back to the front of our lawn.
I instantly found Bucky’s hand tightening, and his thumb started rubbing in an up-and-down pattern along my hip. When I turned to him slightly, his gaze stayed on Reggie.
Before finishing cleaning up for the night, we said goodbye to our guests, and just when we thought we hadn’t made any headway in our conversation about work (mind you, we had dropped hints and notices about it all night, but neither of the two seemed to take the bait), Reggie stopped on the last step to our porch and turned to Bucky.
“You mentioned working in transportation, and by the sounds of your new job up here, if you’re interested in a more innovative place, I may have some ins for you,” he shook Bucky’s hand. “I have some coworkers around the states that could use some employees like you on their route.”
“I may take you up on that offer. It all depends on how this week rolls out,” Bucky answered perfectly. The Bauers said their goodbyes, and we watched them walk home before turning to each other.
In a silent celebration, we grinned at the invitation and then sent wordless glances to tread carefully when we got in before scoping the place for bugs…
_______________
Bucky’s POV:
I’m not surprised that the blonde sole cycle instructor of a neighbor was able to get a wire in our bathroom, but neither Y/N nor I were in the mood to remove it right away and give away our knowledge of it, so we each grabbed another drink for the night and debriefed subtly on the porch where the only bugs we had to mind were the crickets chirping their music for the night.
Bethanne was right. Our porch was nicely done, and I hadn’t even noticed Y/N had hung lights out here until she plugged them in.
“I feel like this spot is more put together than the rest of the house.” I noticed the details when we were out here earlier. Now, we both have taken up spots in the rocking chairs our neighbors had vacated.
“I may have focused more of my attention on this spot than the others,” she smiled as she brought a tumbler glass up to her lips. She had drank wine while Bethanne was here, but as soon as they were gone, the whiskey I had made a glass for myself was stolen out of my hand before I could take a sip. Now, we had each of our own.
“Was what you said about the porch a real thing? I mean, we have balconies at the compound,” I looked at her as I sat my drink on the small table between us.
“Balconies and porches aren’t the same. At least in my head, they aren’t,” she nodded, taking a deep sigh and resting her glass in her lap. “Did you mean what you said when you were complimenting me all night?” She lulled her head to the side to look at me.
I had been making compliments. It felt easier to use the ones I had picked up on than the ones I made up. Yet again, I think anyone should get the recognition they deserve when they excel in something. Y/N just tended to excel in more than I think she was aware of. And I was learning she didn’t seem to be used to people taking note of those things.
“Why lie?” I shrugged, starting to rock in a steady pattern.
“Because that’s this whole gig. A lie,” she answered, taking another pull of the hard liquor.
I considered her perspective and shook my head, looking out to the lights on the other side of the street. “I guess it gets tiring at points. Don’t really feel like doing it if the truth can be just as usable.”
She didn’t answer for quite a few seconds, and when I turned back to her, she was staring at me like she was waiting for another shoe to drop.
“How are you so patient? Seriously, is it a drug Tony made you before you had to deal with me on this mission? I don’t get it,” she laughs, but I can hear the genuine confusion in it as she sits forward and turns her body to me.
Honesty. I’m in a mood to be 100% honest.
“Want me to be real with you?” I asked, turning my own body.
“It’d be preferred,” she nods and rests both her arms on the armrest.
“I don’t know anything about your past, but I know most people have a reason for acting the way they do. It took years and a ton of patience before I felt like I was even close to who I used to be. I still struggle to come to terms with the fact I’ll never be who I was before the train incident,” I sigh and rest my head back against the chair as I look at her. “I guess I have understanding more than patience. I understand that you have a history of your own that I don’t know, and I can’t blame you for a lot of the things you do.”
“But you should. I’m an asshole to you,” she says, and the admission is kinda nice to hear, even if it is sad.
“Yeah, and I was hoping you’d be willing to share why that is,” I reply calmly.
She tenses some and sits back in her chair, pulling her legs under her to sit crisscrossed, the chair rocking with her movement and her dress overflowing past her knees.
“I guess now is as good a time as ever…” She looked at me sidelong before finding comfort in the view in front of her instead. “I didn’t really have a chance to develop a personality of my own because of my time in this lifestyle,” she motions around her, “started as soon as I could walk. So I had no identity to fall back on since I had to find it after I escaped.”
I had questions, but I found it best just to listen. Clearly, what she was talking about wasn’t something she brought up lightly, and being an ear to listen was what she needed right now.
“I was left behind by whichever no-good parent gave me up, and Adonis Hummel took me as his own and decided he’d try to recreate the famous assassin, The Winter Solider, from birth practically.”
The name drop came quickly and struck home. I didn’t know her whole story, but I had enough imagination and experience to believe where she was going.
“Wait, Hummel?” I started because the name sounded familiar, but…
“He was a low-level scientist who worked for Hydra when they were still using you under Pierce. He thought he had the brains and resources to create his own version of you. A version that would be more undetectable as a woman and a version he could tweak however he wanted,” she rolled her shoulders. “Lucky for him, I didn’t have to be brainwashed since I knew nothing besides the life of abuse, experimentation, and a shit ton of conditioning... " 
"To clarify, I say that for context, not sympathy,” she straightened, and I could see her shifting back to her unbothered disposition, but the truth was shining through the cracks. She may not have wanted sympathy, but something about the vulnerability seemed to lighten the load on her shoulders.
“As for why I may have built a wall around you, an unhealthy and senile wall, I felt as though…” She gulped as if the next part was harder for her to say than the abuse of her past. “I felt as though you had been my competition my whole life, and a part of me, a young and in-need-of-therapy part of me, thought it was best to keep you as far away as possible and hold onto that anger instead of work through it. It felt easier than facing the fear that I didn’t actually equate to you in any way. So that’s another reason why I felt everything with you was to prove a point.” She lets out a short breath after using all the air in her lungs in one swift swoop.
I-
It’s a lot to take in…
She doesn’t move her head back towards me after her confession, and I can’t seem to break my stare from her.
“This is where you say something like, ‘Well, it’s your lucky day. I’m actually an asshole either way, so we can go on hating each other for completely understandable reasons!’ or I don’t know? Anything but silence would be preferred, though…”
Her hand is gripping the arm rest unconsciously like an anchor keeping her on earth.
On instinct, I reach across and pull her hand into mine, keeping my stare heavy, enticing her to look at me.
She closes her eyes at first and takes another short breath before turning.
“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel unworthy of being on the team.” I feel like I personally am the reason for her suffering, even if I had no correlation with her before I joined the team. "You are more than an asset to the team and are your own kind of weapon. It's incomparable."
“Ugh,” she sniffles and rubs an eye with the heel of her free hand as if to disguise a possible tear as allergies. “This would be so much easier if you were a piece of shit misogynistic asshole, but you're part of the few good ones out there. Steve, Sam, and Clint included, not Tony,” she noted.
I smiled, thinking about how I’d make a team like that even if she had me believe otherwise for so long.
“What I’m trying to get at, B, is you’re not the one I should be blaming for my past. You’re just as much a victim as I am, but I took the easy way out of making it more manageable for me, and I only made it harder for us both in the end. And for that,” she turned and stared into my eyes fully, the hand she held squeezing my own. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve an ounce of the kind of cruelness I tried to bury you in. You are the opposite of what they tried to make you, and you’re genuine in proving that to anyone who meets you. I've been envious of the strength you have, and I can say confidently that I deeply regret ever blaming you for that.”
I once again have to process yet another collection of words I’d never thought I hear. From her. Ever. A part of me believed this was a dream, but the part that Y/N had a grip on was practically pinching me into reality.
Without hesitating, I stood up, pulled her arm up with me, and yanked her into my body in a crushing hug.
She froze at first… The motion was quick and surprising, but slowly, she unhooked our hands, brought both of hers tightly around my waist, and laid into me. I rested my head on top of hers and pulled her shoulders in with my arms, wrapping both of my own tightly around her.
I wasn’t going to let go until she did, and by the looks of it… She wasn’t letting go anytime soon.
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salllzy · 2 days
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Sal's ramblings #3
Another bunny from the pile and it is only going to get worse, my brain is going a million miles a minute and I am trying to work on a chapter. So here it is. ------- Alastor is an omega and he doesn't hide it, he simply doesn't tell anyone what he is. If the other citizens of Hell wrongly assume that he is an alpha? Then that is on them. But while he doesn't hide it, he also isn't shouting it from the rooftops. Omegas in Hell are nonexistent after all, Alastor hadn't met any other omegas but he knew that Heaven tended to snatch any and all omegas up to stop Hell from having packs, Which in his humble opinion is stupid. The same as Heaven believed that Hell is an uprising, oh, they were in their own way. Rebelling against God and what the creator had planned for them and thanks to Lucifer, breaking free of the chains that had cruelly been wrapped around them.
As far as Alastor was concerned what Lucifer did was a blessing. If people choose to squander their chance in life, then that is up to them to decide. No one else. But just because Alastor respected Lucifer to a degree it didn't mean that he liked or tolerated the King of Hell. Far from it. He thought that Lucifer was a deadbeat dad who didn't deserve Charlie, Charlie who had begun to patch his broken heart.
Charlie reminded him of his daughter that he had lost, long ago. She had been snatched in the middle of the night. Truthfully, she wasn't his by blood. He had found her when he had been burying one of his victims, a disgusting piece of filth that had deserved what he had got. Alastor had found him preying on children and well, Alastor didn't tolerate anyone who targeted those of fairer means. But that didn't mean that women were off the table. They weren't he had killed more than one abusive wife and mother. And he would continue to do so. But he was getting off-topic. He had found the little fawn wandering around his bayou, the little thing had been crying and calling for her mother. For a split second he wondered if he had been the one to kill her mother, he had quickly pushed the thought from his mind.
Instead, he had picked her up and cleaned her dirt-covered face, only to find himself staring into strange gold eyes. Despite not having the best father and his mother was long since dead. He had done his best to help her. He had asked around and put a report in with the police, which had been a risky move given his hobbies. Unfortunately for Charlotte but fortunately for him, they were unable to find her parents. So he had adopted the fawn, given her his last name DeCoux and he had raised her as best as he could.
Shortly before his death someone had broken into their home and had taken Charlotte from her bed, he had done everything in his power to try and find her. Only to fail. Something had died inside him that day. Then he had been shot shortly afterwards and he had briefly wondered if he would see his daughter again, that perhaps if someone was kind enough he would find her in whatever afterlife awaited him. Sadly it hadn't happened. So he had slapped bloody bandages on his heart and didn't let anyone in, Rosie, Niffty and Zestial were the exceptions. And after the disaster that was his relationship with Vox, he had no desire to acquire more friends. So naturally when he saw Charlie's disastrous interview he had decided that he would lend her his aid. After all, there was nothing like free entertainment. He just hadn't expected the King of Hell to turn up.
Logically he knew that at some point he would, he was Charlie's father after all.
But then somehow, he had a suspicion as to who had leaked the information, it was revealed that he was an omega. Suddenly he had lines of suitors at the door of the hotel, suitors that he didn't want. He had to be careful who he killed, the last thing he wanted to do was create a power vacuum in an already unstable Hell and Hell was unstable. The moment it had been revealed, Hell had gone rabid. The only omega in Hell? And single as well? It was every alpha's wet dream. Eventually, Lucifer proposed that Alastor faked a relationship, with someone of power and standing. It would be the only way to get them off his back and with the amount of mass murder that Alastor had been doing? Well, it was sending a message but not the one he wanted to send. All it was doing was making it look like he was something to be tamed, a vicious animal that needed to be domesticated and not as the warning it was meant to be. Naturally, Lucifer had volunteered himself. After all, there was no one stronger than him or had a position higher than the King of Hell.
But what Alastor didn't know, was that it was a trap, one that Lucifer had designed himself. It had been him who had leaked the information about Alastor being an omega to hell.
Alastor was cunning and wily, he would never let himself be trapped in a deal, so Lucifer had to use other means. Alastor already belonged to him after all, they had a daughter together.
Not that Alator knew that Charlie was Charlotte, Lucifer had told Charlie that it was important that no one knew her full name. At the time he had told her that it was because names had power and it was true they did. But he didn't want Alastor to find Charlie. At least not until Lucifer was ready for him. His first step had been to get rid of Lilith, she had proven that she was an unfit mother and Lucifer wasn't going to allow her anywhere near Charlie. Lilith had forgotten that while he was the King of Hell now, he was still an angel and that came with all of the instincts and behaviours that came with being an angel. Which included getting rid of any threats to their flock. Which Lilith now was. He had scattered her bones all across Hell and made sure that she would never be able to regenerate. Sadly by the time he had dealt with Lilith, the mortal that had taken such good care of Charlie had died. Lucifer knew that he would need to find this Alastor that Charlie was so attached to. However, he hadn't counted on it taking nearly a century to do so. He had to admit that the sinner was devious and clever, especially since Alastor had been able to escape him time and time again. But not this time. Lucifer wasn't going to let him go this time.
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skyfallslayer · 2 days
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Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter Three
-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-
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Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist
🎲Summary: An Increasingly concerned Nancy looks for Barb and finds out what Jonathan’s been up to. The boys pair up with El for an investigation. Joyce is convinced that Will and Steph are trying to talk to her. Meanwhile, Steve feels like someone’s watching his every move.
🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler
🎲Rating: Teen-Mature
🎲Word Count: 15,209 (Oh, lord)
🎲Date: 05/27/24
🎲Warnings: Angst; Heavy Language & Dialogue; References To Broken Friendship; Talks of Kidnapping; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Talks of Mental Health Issues; Bullying of All Kinds; Physical Fighting; Lying; "Death"; Crying (Lots of it); Brief Mention of Corpses; Gun Use; Implied Unloving Parents; Will & Steph's Mental Strain - Joyce's Too; Hopper Being a Great Cop & A Total Mess; Dustin Being a Gangster & A Total Mess; Steve's 'Asshole Era'; Steve's Emotional Damage. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
-This also contains me not knowing how the fuck the Upside Down works despite so much research.-
(And let me know if I missed anything)
🎲A/N:  So… this is a very long, very intense one. Very emotional too. Hopefully y'all are ready for this. I notice a lot of you readers are spitting out theories and I can't help but love them. But unfortunately I have to stay silent and let you guess wait 🤭. While rewatching this episode, I totally forgot how fucking good of an actress Winona Ryder is. Seriously, rewatch the scenes with her and the lights again and you'll see. Any who, Happy Memorial Day everyone! Enjoy!
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Steve practically had to “bully” Tommy into taking his girlfriend home last night. It was hard for him to make eye contact with her after their argument – A real argument, not just some mindless bickering they’ve done in the past that doesn’t pack much heat, but a real, real argument – and when she came back to his room only a few minutes later telling him that Barb must have left already and needed a ride, he couldn’t bring himself to do so.
Was this making him feel and look like a coward? Probably. But it’s not like he didn’t want to risk having another eye opening conversation with her again.
Eye opening, my ass. There was no “eye opening”. I’m just being paranoid. But was he though?
Nancy, oh, sweet Nancy, always talked about how she was aiming for journalism as her major. For a while, to be honest, he couldn’t really see it. Sure, curiosity was practically tattooed on her heart, but the months they’ve been dating he hasn’t seen anything else that screams “I’m a Journalist”. 
That was until last night.
He’s not sure why he never put that box away after their friendship ended, he doesn’t know why he didn’t just stuff it into his closet or under his bed, but the fact that someone had found it in his spot he called “out of sight, out of mind” shocked him. The little box that could fit under his dresser, completely oblivious to anyone who stands next to it. Of course out of all the days for someone to finally have spotted it was the day he brought his girlfriend to his home (Still, it might have been better for her to find it rather than his parents. They sure were… nosy).
And of course she would be the one to break him down when he was trying to forget, forget because it was the best option here.
And his girlfriend was smart, one of the traits he most admired, and she could read through his lies most of the time, a trait he hates. Loathe. But… did he really think he could have avoided all this? That once he put a lid on their friendship she would suddenly vanish? Every single thing about Stephanie Henderson would be forgotten? That was the plan, the “dream” so to speak. I guess dreams don’t always stay dreams unless you put work into them.
.
“So who is she to you?” Nancy asked, standing up and flashing the memorabilia at him.
.
She was just… just some kid he knew since they were five. Nothing more than that, It shouldn’t be more than that. She was just some girl that had confidence radiating out of her as they lock pinkies and swore–
.
“I’m not jealous. I’m just curious.” Nancy replies, honestly. She takes another look at the photos in her hand before looking back at him. “I mean, if she isn’t your friend anymore, then why do you hang on to all this stuff? Or better question–”
“Nancy, stop, it’s just–”
“Why did you break it off?”
His brain short circuits again. “What?”
“I said, ‘Why did you break it off?’ I mean…” She flips through some of the photos he has, memorized. “From what I see, you two remind me of Barb and I. You two look like you were tied at the hip. So why break it off?”
.
Because he had to. He needed to. God knows if he didn’t, her and her family would be… Jeez. He could barely remember it, not wanting to remember it.
The memory was blurry. So blurry. Maybe it was the many hits in the head for his shitty memory, or maybe he was really, really trying not to remember it. 
What was his parents planning on doing again that made him so… scared?
.
“Look, I just want to understand you. I mean, every time I think I have you figured out you throw me through a loop.” She gives him a reassuring look as she picks up the box, shuffling whatever was remaining around. “I mean, from what I see, you seem like a completely different person then. I just wonder if it’s a good thing or a bad–” 
.
No… no. He still doesn’t understand what she meant. He hasn’t “changed”. He’s still the same person since the day he was born. What was she even getting that from? A couple glances at some photos gave her a new impression of him? There’s no way. It’s laughable. It’s totally laughable. Everything that’s happened between him and Henderson was totally laughab–
.
“‘CAUSE IT WAS MY FAULT!! OKAY?!” Steve snaps, startling them both (He can’t believe he just lost his cool like that). He swallows again, head spinning at the memories (Why did he fucking leave the box right there?). “I just… there was an incident and… it… shaped my decision, okay? But it didn’t involve me or her with a gun, it was… s-someone else. Someone I know. I don’t know why I’m holding onto it, I…” 
.
That certainly wasn’t laughable.
Sometimes that memory is hazy, which he preferred, but the other times it was crystal clear. Too clear. Just a heated exchange between him and someone else just before it went to shit. He still remembers the pain in his bicep, the wind feeling like it was getting knocked out of him with someone’s loud scream. Then came the sinking realization that Henderson wasn’t bouncing up to her feet like he did. 
It still… fucks with him sometimes. Taunting. Haunting. Torturing. 
.
Nancy breaks eye contact, and only reverses it when she gathers the right words. “Look, Steve, I’m sorry I intruded, I probably shouldn’t have but… I’m just trying to understand you.”
Steve shakes his head, still confused. “I-I…” He shrugs, and crosses his arms defensibly. “What’s there to understand?”
.
Exactly. There’s nothing. N-O-T-H-I-N-G. Nothing. She doesn’t need to go digging around Pandora’s box.
.
But Nancy looked at him with eyes full of pity and took another step closer. “I don’t know what the reason was for you two to stop being friends, but all I know, from what I gathered, she wasn’t the one to end it.” She places Steph’s flier on his chest that he subconsciously grabbed, and said one last thing before leaving his room. And that was,
“Maybe there was a good reason for you to end it, but that’s not an excuse for you to stop being who you really are.”
.
But I haven’t changed. I’ve been the same person since I was born. Even his own gut coiled at his denial. The heaven’s beyond were probably busting a lung. Hell was shaking its head. He just keeps telling himself that lie and maybe it’ll come true one day.
Yeah, right.
This boy’s been telling himself that for almost two years now and hasn’t even sunk in yet.
Steve sighs, rolling in his bed to face his alarm clock; The red numbers glaring at him. It hadn’t even gone off yet, he still has about an hour but… 
Another sigh. School. Right.
He didn’t even feel like going, too mentally exhausted from staying up pretty much all night, completely alone with his thoughts – His very dangerous, troubling thoughts. He didn’t want to go, but his parents were going to be home any minute now from their trip and were not going to be happy if they saw him just lying around. They were surely going to berate him for missing a day of learning. Except...
Fuck. Going wasn’t an option, his brain hurts and his body was dragging and he really, really didn’t want to see Nancy’s pitiful eyes, or listen to Tommy’s mocking, or Carol’s sexified comments. Fuck, no. Fuck.
Where can he hide out for the next eight hours? He started putting what was left of brain together as he threw something on, not even trying to dress to impress today, and snagged his precious car keys. He is about a foot outside his bedroom when something tells him to stop. His chocolate eyes stare at the box on the end of his bed, something deep inside tells him not to leave it unoccupied.
He swallows, wanting to tell his subconscious to fuck off and leave him be, but… 
“Fuck it.” He races back over, making sure the lid was on before taking it with him. 
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
|| THE OTHER SIDE ||
It’s been… how many days since then? They don’t know. They stopped counting every time they ran into trouble. Like… right now. Traumatized by the beast pulling an innocent woman into the Harringtons’ pool and violating her before coming after them. They were lucky to have some kind of head start or otherwise they might have been goners. But–
Jesus. It was getting hard to breathe in this place, the cold weather was getting to them too. 
Eventually, miraculously, they had escaped from their predator when their bodies finally gave out.
“Fuck.” Stephanie gasped as the two of them collapsed in someone’s backyard. They both sat on their hands and knees, a line of sweat dripping off their icy noses. She sniffles and pants, her breath being seen in the air. “This is getting ridiculous.”
It really, really was. They can’t even take a break without worrying if that thing would come after them. 
How am I supposed to figure out how to get out of here if I can’t even stop to think? She sits back on her news, frowning. “Why does it keep coming after us?”
Will sneezes, and sniffles before resting his body against the side of the random house. He starts fiddling with his frigiding fingers, worried if he was going to say something wrong. “I don’t think this time it was. It looks like it was attacking someone else.”
“That’s true.” She sighs, taking her cap off for a second to rest. “However, we either were at the wrong place at the wrong time, or that thing was following us and grabbed the first prey it saw.”
He nods. “Yeah. But that doesn’t explain where the person came from. Does… that mean we aren’t the only people here?”
“I don’t know.” Are there actually more people here? “I mean, I guess on the bright side, if more people are going missing someone’s gotta know what’s going on, right?”
That honestly didn’t cross her mind at all while being here. She was so worried about keeping herself and especially Will alive that she didn’t think about what was going on on the other side. How was her family reacting? His family too? And what about the town? Did the police actually give a fuck this time?
I really hope it’s Hopper. He seems like the only one who gave shit last time. Stephanie prays he’s on her case as she subconsciously tries to grab the chain around her neck, only to find nothing. Her heart sinks as she looks down and feels around the front of her shirt.
“Shit.” She says, dreadfully. Did she really lose her–
“What?” Will replies, concerned. 
“Uh, I just…” Fuck. “I just uh, lost my necklace.” She frowns again. “I didn’t even realize it.”
Now it was his turn to look sad (I guess you could say he was just copying her expression). “We can go look for it if you like.”
She’s already shaking his head. “No. It’s okay. I could have lost it on the first day here without realizing it.”
“Can you replace it?”
“It’s… I don’t know. It was a gift.” She looks over at him, his expression seems so broken over her confession. “It’s okay, Will. It’s not a big deal.”
“I know, but still.”
Stephanie couldn’t help but crack a small smile on her peach lips, and ruffle the boy’s hair. “Don’t ever change, kid. You’ve got a good little heart.” That seemed to do the trick because the boy blushed and seemed all proud of himself.
“Do you think it’s safe to rest here for a bit?” Will asked, as she looked around.
“Yeah.” She nods. “I think we’ll be fine. How about you pull out the blanket?”
They both shrug their backpacks off, and keep their guns by their sides pointed safely away; Will unrolls the blanket they took from her house and scoots closer. Steph tucks the fabric under their feet before the boy snuggles up to her side. Dying from the cold was off the menu for the both of them. For most of the time they stayed quiet, controlling their breathing and rubbing their cold hands in their laps.
“There’s something I don’t understand though.” Will blurted out. I guess this was the thought that came to mind in the moment of silence.
“And what’s that?” The older girl asked, sparing him a glance.
“If that thing is supposed to… you know, kill people, then why bring them here?” He stares up at her nervously. “Why not just kill us in our world? Why the extra hassle to bring us here?”
Her eyes widened slightly, those words hitting her like a truck. “That’s… a good question.” A really good question. It was something else she hasn’t thought about either. If the beast could go between worlds, why bring them here for the kill? 
Will must have noticed the wheels turning in the girls head and looks down hopelessly. “It’s going to be hard for people to find us then, right?”
Stephanie says nothing, and gnaws on her bottom lip because he’s right. If they’re stuck in another world then…
.
.
.
How are their loved ones going to know?
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
When Jonathan woke up the next day he wasn’t expecting his mother to be leaving before he did. “Mom? Where are you going?” He asked, as she stopped upon hearing him speak.
“Oh, I’m going to town. I’m going to pick up a few things.” She replies, putting her belongings into her purse. “I was… you know, thinking about maybe getting some stuff Will likes to eat so he can have it when he gets home. Or, you know–”
“Mom?”
“And maybe a new phone? Our old one’s obviously not fine, so–”
“Mom?” Jonathan tries again, getting a hum. “You sure you’re okay going by yourself? I can miss school again if you don’t feel comfortable yet.”
“No, no, don’t do that. Go… I just need to get out of the house. I’ve been stuck in here for a few days.” Joyce replies, reassuring her oldest. “I’ll be okay.”
“Okay.” He nods. “But if something happens just… call the school and I’ll be there.”
“Okay.” She says, giving her a quick hug. “Thank you, sweetie. I’ll see you later.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
In the early morning at the Wheeler’s house, the boys were planning a mission to finally figure out what happened to their friends.
“We just tell our parents we have AV Club after school. That’ll give us at least a few hours for Operation Mirkwood.” Mike explains, the three of them gathered around the upside down D&D board.
“You seriously think that the weirdo knows where Will and Steph are?” Lucas said, making the other boy eye roll.
“Just trust me on this, okay? Did you get the supplies?”
“Yeah.” He nods, and shows off what he’s got. “Binoculars... from ‘Nam. Army knife... also from ‘Nam. Hammer, camouflage bandana…” He grins. “And the wrist rocket.”
Dustin looks at him strangely, almost laughing. “You’re gonna take out the Demogorgon with a slingshot?”
“First of all, it’s a wrist rocket. And second of all, the Demogorgon’s not real. It’s made up. But if there is something out there, I’m gonna shoot it in the eye–” Lucas snaps the rubber and startles his friend. “And blind it.”
“Dustin, what did you get?” Mike asked, trying to get straight to the point.
“Well, alrighty.” Dustin starts pouring stuff out of his bag, also proud of what he grabbed (Which is totally not what Mike told him to bring). “So, we’ve got... Nutty Bars, Bazooka, Pez, Smarties, Pringles, Nilla Wafers, apple, banana, and trail mix.”
“Seriously?” Lucas said, disappointed.
“We need energy for our travels. For stamina. And besides, why do we even need weapons anyway?” He points to the girl on the couch. “We have her.”
“She shut one door!”
“With her mind! Are you kidding me? That’s insane!” Dustin could almost laugh with all the stuff he could think of about her powers. “Imagine all the other cool stuff she could do. Like…” He quickly looks around and grabs a giant toy version of the Millennium Falcon. “I bet that she could make this fly!” He stands in front of El and holds it out. “Hey. Hey. Okay, concentrate. Okay?” He lets go of the toy that quickly drops to the floor. “Okay, one more time. Okay. Use your powers, okay?”
“Idiot.” Lucas mumbles once the toy drops to the floor again.
Mike sighs. “She’s not a dog!” He says, taking it away from him.
“Boys!” Karen calls out from above. “Time for school!”
He crouches down in front of Eleven as the rest of his friends make their way up stairs. “Just stay down here. Don’t make any noise, and don’t leave. If you get hungry, eat Dustin’s snacks, okay?” 
“Michael!”
“Coming!” Why must he be rushed? “You know those power lines?”
“Power lines?” El asked, confused.
“Yeah. The ones behind my house?”
“Yes.”
“Meet us there, after school.”
“After school?”
“Yeah, 3:15.” It took a second for Mike to realize that she didn’t understand. “Ah. Hang on.” He unstraps his watch and ties around her own wrist. “When the numbers read three-one-five, meet us there.”
“‘Three-one-five’.” She repeats.
He nods. “Yeah. Three-one-five.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
|| THE OTHER SIDE ||
“Did you get any rest?”
Her tired blue eyes looked back at him, his face scrunched up in concern for the girl that almost tripped two seconds ago. And to answer his question, it was ‘no’. Their little rest had turned into sleep, but once again she couldn’t dare close her eyes with the beast lurking somewhere (She’s honestly surprised she’s still standing at this point).
“Yeah, I got a little.” She said, hoping that sounded convincing. 
Will narrows his eyes and steps in front of her, stopping them from walking any further. “No you didn’t.”
“Will–”
“Why aren’t you getting any sleep?”
She sucks in a breath. Guess there was no point in arguing with a twelve year old. “Because I’m keeping an eye out.” She tries taking a step around him but he follows.
“That’s bullshit.” He replies, shocking her (She’s honestly heard him cuss before. Which is ironic since he hangs out with three boys that act like cussing is their first language).
“Will, it’s true. I’m keeping an eye out.”
“Yeah, I understand. But you can’t keep missing sleep because of that.”
“Someone’s got to protect you. Just like I promise.”
“Well how are you supposed to do that when you can barely stand?” That seemed to strike a nerve. “Can you just… next time we sleep, I’ll watch and you actually sleep.”
“Will–”
“And, if I hear something, I’ll wake you up immediately. How’s that?”
Well… she can’t say no to that face. She sighs. “Okay. I’ll sleep.” She replies, getting him to smile. “But you wake me up if you hear anything, okay? Don’t you even think about doing the opposite and handling it yourself. I don’t want you to wound up hurt or dead. Got it?”
“Got it.” 
The two of them continued their unwanted detour that ended up being Hawkins’ little downtown. This place looked more like the apocalypse than their neighbourhoods. Dark, abandoned, quiet and completely trashed. It seemed a little scarier to walk around than the previous routes they took. 
“Maybe we can hide out somewhere here?” Will asked, as they stopped at an intersection to look around.
“Possibly. If anything’s open we can. I want to avoid making too much ruckus in case that’s what attracts the monster.” Steph said, thinking. 
They walked slowly and carefully by each store, peeking inside to see if anything got their attention. Stephanie blissfully sighs upon seeing a familiar sign and points.
“Dude, I kill for some chicken parmesan right now.” She says, smiling at the thought of eating Italian at ‘Enzo’s’. 
“Hmm, meatball’s sounds good. But I think I really want my mom’s Sloppy Joes.” Will admits, and can already picture it in front of him.
“Sloppy Joes are awesome too. I wouldn’t mind eating that when I get back either. Then Enzo’s.”
“Totally Enzo’s.” He chuckles. “Uh, so when we do get out of here, how do we explain this to someone?”
“What? This?” She gestures to the open air. “You mean that telling the authorities that we were abducted by an eight foot tall creature with just a mouth and brought to a creepier version of Hawkins doesn’t sound truthful?”
He makes a face. “I… I don’t know. They might think we’re crazy.”
“Crazy, but it’s true.” She shrugs. “I really do wonder how we’re going to explain this.”
“I hope my mom contacted Chief Hopper. I know they were good friends growing up, I’m sure he believes her.”
“I hope it’s him, I don’t really like some of the people he works with.”
Will tilts his head, confused. “You don’t like cops?”
“No, I don’t certain cops here. I don’t trust them as far as I can throw them.”
“How come?”
“Well–” She cuts herself off and stops, eyes trailing to something inside one of the shops. She takes a second to make sure she’s seeing that right before pointing and saying, “November 6th.”
Will perks up at that. “That’s the day when we had our D&D campaign. The night we disappeared.”
“Yeah.” Steph looks around her hand following up to another object, a clock. “Nine Twenty-Three. That’s probably around the time we disappeared too.”
“But why is everything stuck this way?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, didn’t this place exist beforehand?” Will asked, head spinning. “How come everything is stuck on the night we disappeared?”
She purses her lips. “It… exist because of us? Or does time run differently here?”
“This is making my head hurt.”
She chuckles. “You and me both, kid.”
They continued their walk, popping into a few shops when they saw something useful, like another set of matches or even a sleeping bag they could share. They eventually ended up at a hunting store and scavenged there. Steph started grabbing a couple boxes of shotgun shells and ones that could fit inside Mr. Harrington’s pistol. It felt strange to have something like this in her possession, especially given the history of it. A very… bittersweet history of it. 
Stupid, Harring– The small box tv on the counter startled her when it made a noise. When her gaze locks onto it, she realizes it’s not even on. She sighs, shaking her head. Now I’m imagining shit? This is getting fucking ridiculous.
She starts making room inside her bag for the ammunition when–
.
|| –Those Poor Children. ||
.
Stephanie nearly drops everything and grips the gun and starts frantically searching for the voice. What in the fucking–
.
|| Jesus, I know. I can only imagine what their families are going through. ||
|| It’s such a shame– ||
.
“What the…?”
“Did you hear that too?” Will asked, eyes full of hope as she looked between him and empty space behind the counter.
“Huh? Um… Y-Yeah. I-I did.” She swallows and then realizes something. “Wait… is that what you– Is that what you were talking about?”
“Yeah!” He shakes his head eagerly. “I told you, I swear I could hear my mom and Jonathan talking that night. I told you I wasn’t crazy.”
Stephanie takes a deep breath, still in a bit of disbelief I mean– This changes everything she’s thought about this place. “If we can hear somebody, then…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence. It was so shocking.
“Maybe we can talk to them. I know for a fact my mom heard me when I called the phone. She even responded when I talked back.”
“So it’s totally possible.” She goes silent to think, an idea coming to mind in a matter of seconds. She grins. “Follow me.”
Will of course does, a little intrigued by the fact that they found themselves climbing to the top of an old bell tower that overlooks most of Hawkins. “What is this place?”
“Somewhere I probably shouldn’t have been hanging out at when I was young.” Steph admits. “Don’t worry, the tower hasn’t been used in decades ‘cause the bell’s broken. Alright.” She smacks her hands together. “We have to figure out a way to get someone’s attention. Whether it’s your family, my family, friends, or hell, even some random stranger. We just need to get someone’s attention.”
“But how? I’m not even sure how any of this works.” Will asked, truthfully. He’s still not even really sure how he was able to contact his mom that night. 
She hums, scratching her head. “Where’s your house at?” He gets close to the edge, looks around and points to it in the distance. She nods and starts doing the same as she speaks, “Alright, well there’s mine, Lucas’, and Mike’s. So we got options. We just need to figure out how you were able to speak to your mom that night. If we can figure that out, maybe we can do it again.”
“All I really did was just dial my house’s number and she picked up.”
“Okay. Maybe it’s just that simple after all.”
“Well… I know whatever happened that night, it fired the house’s phone. We’re going to need a new phone.”
“We can get one. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll move on to another house. Hopefully, one of our friends will pick up.”
And they have to. This is our only plan right now. She waves for him to go first. “Careful going down, it’s more tricky than going up.”
“Okay.” He says, doing what he was told.
She starts to follow closely behind when another voice appears.
.
|| I am such an idiot. || 
.
She froze, her heart sinking again. She looks back at one of the corners of the tower, and an aching feeling in her gut.
“Steve?”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Steve had a cigarette in one hand, and his other tangled up his own locks; One leg was dangling off the tower, while the rest of his body laid against the arch of the opening. Today was stupidly sunny, barely any clouds and no smell of precipitation in the air for a chance of rain – the aesthetic was the complete opposite of his mood right now.
He took a puff of nicotine and blew it out like a long, heavy sigh. The shit from last night keeps replaying in his head, provoking him to do or say something he’s probably not supposed to (or is supposed to, his subconscious yells at him) – He still doesn’t understand why he suddenly ended up here out of place. He could have gone to skull rock, or even the quarry, or maybe even just running around the mall hoping no one realizes he’s a teenager and asks why he’s not in school.
He groans, closing his eyes, listening to the traffic below and people bickering, praying nobody looks up and finds him here. Again, why did I pick this place?
“I am such an idiot.” He mutters, then the insecurities he had slowly started to fade away when he felt a presence nearby. Worried that maybe a cop finally found him, he changes his sadden look for something cooler before opening his eyes and looking. 
But strangely enough, no one was even there.
“Huh.” Steve blinks, swearing that he could feel someone was watching him. Maybe though? I mean, this was an old church that may or may not be haunted.
He shakes his head. “Fuck this.” He puts his bud out on the ground and stands up to leave.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Hey, Where’s Steve? I didn’t see his car in the parking lot.” Nancy asks, butting into Carol and Tommy’s conversation. She honestly wanted to see him to give him another apology, she still felt bad for prying so much about something she probably shouldn’t have seen. And I want to see if he’s in a good mental state today.
She watches the couple spare a look and gets worried, “What?”
“You haven’t seen him yet?” Carol said, as she shakes her head. “That’s weird.”
“Steve never skips school.” Tommy adds.
“What did you guys argue about last night?”
“Us?” Nancy said, pointing to herself. “You think he’s not here because we fought?”
“It’s a possibility. He finally has a girlfriend who’s charm finally made the King skip class.” Carol said, arms cross. “I’d say that’s an achievement.”
She scoffs. “First of all, It was just a disagreement, nothing more. A second, there’s no way that’s the reason he’s not here.”
“Maybe you hit one of his insecurities you were yelling about last night.”
Nancy holds her tongue and ends up just leaving in a huff. Every time she thinks she’s finally on their level, she’s pushed back down. She sighs and enters her first class of the day. Her gaze follows over to where her friend would be at, but atlas, her desk was empty.
She reaches out and taps the girl in front of her shoulder. “Hey, Ally. Where’s Barb?”
The girl raised an eyebrow. “Um, shouldn’t you know?”
Nancy’s stomach dropped. “You haven’t seen her anywhere... at all?” 
Ally shakes her head just as the bell rings and everyone’s ordered to sit down, leaving the Wheeler to wonder if she stayed home too because of their bickering.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“There she is. Emerald City.” Powell announced as they pulled up to the one and only laboratory in Hawkins. They were going off really their only lead at this point, and hoping it plays out.
“I heard they make space weapons in there.” Callahan replies, getting a look. 
“Space weapons?”
“Yeah. You know, like, Reagan’s Star Wars. I guess we’re gonna blow the Ruskies to smithereens.”
“Hey, can I help you?” The guard asked once the police car rolled to a stop just in front of the gate.
“Uh, yeah. We’re here for a tour.” Hopper lied.
“Oh, we don’t give tours.”
“Okay... A quick look around.”
“You have to get clearance for that. You can contact, uh... Rick Schaeffer at the Department of Energy.”
“Maybe you seen it on TV.” Hopper pushes, not backing down from this. “We got two local kids missing. We have reason to believe they might have snuck in here.”
“Like I said, you have to speak to Mr. Schaeffer.”
Hopper exhaled through his nose, and turned the car and placed his hat on the dashboard; His partners beside him grew quiet, and let him have at it. “What’s your name?”
“Patrick.” 
“Patrick, I got a panicked mayor, and I got reporters breathing down my neck and I got two very upset mothers.” He said, his face growing softer, more wounded like. “Now, I know the kid’s not in there, but I gotta check off this box. Patrick, would you do me a favor? Would you speak to your boss and see what you can swing for us? I’d really appreciate it. I’m talking ten minutes, tops.”
Just ten minutes to see if they were in there. That’s all that the police chief needs…
And wants.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Steve heads inside the shop nearby, his stomach growling for food. It completely slipped his mind this morning – or afternoon now – he’s completely lost track of time. 
Now what kind of junk sounds appetizing today? He starts wandering around, not at all familiar with this layout or the shop for that matter (Why didn’t he just go to the sandwich shop next door again?). As he slips through one of the aisles, he notices the person in front of him struggling to reach for something off the high shelf. 
Deciding to be a nice boy, he reaches up and grabs it down for her. “Here you go, Ma’am.”
“Oh, thank you.” She said, surprised and grateful. “How kind of you.”
“Early Christmas shopping?” 
“Oh, I wish. No, I just need a new phone in case my son calls the house.”
He nods. “Your son lives far then?”
“Um, no, h-he’s missing.”
Oh?
Oh…
Oh!
Steve’s eyes widened at the realization. “Oh, oh my god, I’m so sorry. You’re that kid’s mother.”
“I am.” Joyce says, shifting her weight around. 
“Am… so sorry, I-I didn’t know, I–”
“Like you said, you didn’t know.” She puts the phone into the shopping cart. “It’s okay.”
“Okay, um…” This was awkward, right? Steve shifted on his feet too, not really sure how to wrap this up. “Uh, do you have… uh… heard any updates?”
Joyce shakes her head, sadly. “Not yet. I know the Police Chief has put many of his guys and volunteers to work. But I think at this point they covered all of Hawkins.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I just, uh–” He trails off, struggling to make a sentence. “Sorry, I was just being nosy. I don’t really hear much news, I…” He swallows. “I went to school with the Henderson girl, so...”
Is he making any sense? Hopefully she’s understanding what he means– Fuck, his heart’s racing so fast.
“Oh, yeah?” Joyce said, looking bittersweet – Looking like she was a mother staring at her hurt child (How come his own mother never looked at him like that?). “Must be hard knowing someone you knew is missing.”
Damn, right on the money. “Yeah.” He says, his throat feeling tight.
She hums, and then gives him a stern expression. “Shouldn’t you be in school though?”
Annnnddddd… Fuck. 
Nice Going, Harrington. He scolded himself as he racked his brain for a believable lie. “Oh, uh, I-I graduated already. I was a grade ahead.”
“Oh.” She says, apologetically. “My mistake.”
“No worries, seriously. It happens all the time.” At least he didn’t say something stupid, and needs to get out of this conversation before he does but… damn his little heart sometimes. “Uh–” He gestures to her cart full of different items. “Do you want me to pay for some of that? For bothering you? Or uh, I… I know you’re probably–”
“Oh, no!” She shakes her head. “No. Thanks, but I can get it. Money’s a little tight, I’ll admit, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You know?”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I appreciate the offer.” Joyce smiles, and subconsciously pats the young man on his shoulder. “You’re very sweet. Take care.”
“You too.” He says, seeing this as he exits and walks past her.
Joyce watches as he turns to another aisle, growing a bit sad by the interaction. 
Alright, do I have everything? She has a new phone, some groceries– things she knows Will would like– 
The display of string lights flickered for a second.
Confused, thinking most likely it was probably a short circuit, she doesn’t understand why she ended up muttering her youngest name, “Will.”
Coincidentally, the light flickers shortly afterwards. “Will!” She says, again, hope blooming in her chest. Then, all the lights on the display shined for a few seconds. 
God, call her crazy, but maybe this was a sign that her son is still close by.
Before anyone could blink, the checkout counter was filled up with so many boxes of Christmas lights, some just the basic color, and some of the tri-colors. She can only imagine how much this is going to cost her, but who cares! If this is strangely how she can talk to her son, then this is what she shall do.
Her Boss, who was the clerk for the day, looks at her worriedly. “Joyce–”
“Just ring me up, Donald.” Is all she said, patiently waiting until he was all finished. Without sparing another word, she gathers all the bags into her hands and races to her car.
Donald sighs while watching her leave. “That poor woman.” He says, just as Steve comes up to the counter with his snacks and drinks. He raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” 
“Aren’t you supposed to be minding your own business?” Steve said, becoming bitter again.
“Mmm, hmm.” He scans everything and a price pops up on his screen. “That’ll be Five-Fifty.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
|| THE OTHER SIDE ||
“Found a phone.” Will said, almost immediately as they entered. It shouldn’t be a shock since this is the place his mother works at.
“That should work.” Steph said, smiling. “Let’s get a move on.”
Will gets up on his tippy toes to grab it, slowly pulling it off the shelf when something presses his hand. Startled, he falls back and the older girl grabs the box before it falls. 
“What happened?” She asked, worriedly.
“S-Something touched me.” He says, taking a step back.
“What?” She hands him the box and peeks over the shelf herself (She’s not exactly tall either). There was nothing odd out of the ordinary, just the normal dust and native plants that grew in this world. She frowns. “I don’t really see anything.”
Suddenly the display of lights flickered. Out of instinct her hand reaches for the pistol at her side. Then her heart sinks at the next thing.
.
|| Uh, do you want me to pay for some of that? I know you’re probably– || 
.
“Steve?” Stephanie says, surprised. 
So she wasn’t crazy after all. She did hear him. 
Will looked up at her, stunned too. “Steve Harrington?” He asked, but before she could speak another voice could be heard.
.
|| –I can get it. Money’s a little tight, I’ll admit, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You know? ||
|| You sure? ||
|| Yes. I appreciate the offer. You’re very sweet. Take care. || 
.
“Mrs. Byers?/Mom?!” They both erupted, then went quiet to see if they could hear anything else.
Nothing.
“Shit.” The oldest said, and now gnawing on her lip again, nervously (And completely forgetting about Steve for the time being). “That might have been our chance.” She hears the boy drop the phone somewhere next to her. “Will?”
The boy seemed fascinated with an idea swirling around in his head. Stephanie finds herself just watching, waiting to see what he had in mind. Will reaches up and lets his fingers brush the display of some string lights, the lights getting a little bit hazy – It was almost like his touch was giving them electricity. 
.
|| Will. || 
.
Joyce’s voice broke through very faintly, but they both heard it and nearly cried.
“Touch the light again.” Steph said, urgently. Will does what he’s told and they both stay quiet again.
.
|| Will! ||
.
“She hears us.” He says, happily. 
“Holy shit…” She chuckles. “I have an idea. Touch all the lights.”
Frantically, they rush to touch all the lights they saw on display, not even questioning how this was even possible, they just hoped Joyce got the message. Once the hue died down they both held their breaths, and crossed their fingers. And then…
.
|| Just ring me up, Donald. ||
.
Stephanie threw her hands up. “Yes!” She says, with Will laughing beside her. “Thank you, Ms. Byers.”
“My mom’s the best.” He said, with a warm look.
“Hell, yeah she is. And forget the phone–” She locks eyes with him, determined. “I think we figured out a better way to communicate.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“And you think these missing kids may have crawled through there?” 
Hopper spares the man a glance before looking back at the drain. Somehow, he convinced the security guard to let him and his guys in, but so far their theories are turning out pretty sour. “Well, that was the idea.”
Their “Tour Guide”, I guess you can call him that, made a fact that was all smug and prideful. “Yeah, I just don’t see how that’d be possible. We’ve got over 100 cameras. Every square inch covered, plus all my guys. No one breaks in here. Certainly not some kids.”
Hopper perked up at the news, eyes trailing to a few cameras in view. Now it was his turn to be the smug one as he asked, “Those cameras, you keep the tapes?”
Well… I don’t think the guide was expecting that reaction.
Now, the three of them were following the man inside, the hallways swarmed with men in lab coats, and a security team blocking a room that was marked “hazardous”. 
The police Chief found this a bit suspicious and asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, what do you guys do in here?”
The guide chuckles. “You’re asking the wrong guy.”
“Staying one step ahead of the Russians?”
“I expect. Something like that.”
“Who’s in charge here?”
“That’d be Dr. Brenner.”
“And he builds the space lasers?” Callahan asked, eagerly. 
“Space lasers?”
“Ignore him.” Hopper replies, sighing. They eventually entered the surveillance room, the three of them watching the screen closely. “This is the night of the 6th and 7th we’re seeing here?”
“That’s correct.”
Hopper narrows his eyes, waiting to see if he sees anything unusual. However, to his surprise, the tape only lasted less than a minute. “Is that it?” He asked, in disbelief. 
“Like I said, we would have seen them.”
And then the cops were practically shoved out of there, and the guide gives them their condolences for the tired search (Yeah, what an asshole, right?).
“The night of the 7th, we had a search party out for Will and Stephanie. You remember anything about that night?” Hopper asked, seeing if he wasn’t the only suspicious one. 
“Mmm, not much to remember. Called it off.” Callahan replies, thinking.
 “‘Cause of the storm.” Powell adds.
“Yeah, a lot of rain that night.” Hopper says, arriving at their car. “You see any rain on that tape?”
“What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know.” He spares a look at the building, a sinking feeling in his gut. “But they’re lying.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, the boys were outside shifting through the playground for some rocks. Mike picks one up and shows it off. “How about this one?”
Dustin looks and shakes his head. “Too big for the sling.” He says, getting on his knees to do some digging. “So, do you think Eleven was born with her powers, like the X-Men, or do you think she acquired them, like... like Green Lantern?
“She’s not a superhero. She’s a weirdo.” Lucas replies, rolling his eyes.
“Why does that matter?” Mike snaps, offended. “The X-Men are weirdos.” 
“If you love her so much, why don’t you marry her?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Mike, seriously?”
“What?”
“You look at her all, like…” Lucas makes a giggly face, and softens his body language, followed by a higher pitched voice, “‘Hi, El! El! El! El! I love you so much! Would you marry me’?” 
“Shut up, Lucas.”
“Yeah, shut up, Lucas.” Their bully, Troy, announced as he stomped towards the group. “What are you losers doing back here?”
“Probably looking for their missing friends.” James said, smirking.
“That’s not funny. It’s serious. They’re in danger.” Dustin hisses, annoyed.
“I hate to break it to you, Toothless, but they’re not in danger.” Troy bites back. “They’re dead. That’s what my dad says. He said that Byers was probably killed by some other queer. And maybe your sister’s been killed by some crazy stalker who is into weirdos like her.”
The two bullies laugh as Dustin looks like he’s about to strangle someone. No one says anything about Will like that. And nobody especially says something like that about his big sister.
Mike sees this, and puts his arm in front of his friend to soothe him. “Come on. Just ignore them.” He says, and starts to leave, only to be tripped – and face planted into the ground.
“Watch where you’re going, Frogface.” Troy spats, but he instantly gets a taste of his own medicine. 
To everyone’s surprise, Dustin was the one to deliver the karma, which was forcibly shoving him to the ground. 
Everyone stared, and before someone could speak he shoved James too and scrambled to pick up Mike.
“Lucas! Let’s go!” Dustin yells, and silently tells Mike to go. As they were leaving, he flips the bullies the bird and snaps, “You shitheads need to keep Will and Phanie’s name out of your mouths! Got it?!”
And then they broke off into a Usain Bolt type sprint.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
|| THE OTHER SIDE ||
They finally ended up back on Mirkwood, guns loaded, backpacks full, and hope in their chest. If this works, if Joyce does this right, then maybe they can finally communicate to the other side. All they needed to do was tell her where they are, and maybe they could figure out a way to get back. 
It sounded easy, and they just hoped it was.
The two of them were silent for most of the walk, and when they got to this specific road, the boy grabbed her hand, shaking. She says nothing, ‘cause nothing needs to be said about it. If that’s what made him feel safe then so be it.
“Do you think it’s negative emotions?” Will eventually said, breaking the ice.
Stephanie tilts her head, confused. “Hmm?”
“Do you think that’s how we can hear some people? Through negative emotions?” He looks up at her. “Like my mom, she must be worried about me, maybe that’s why we can hear her?”
Her eyebrows shoot up, shocked. It’s definitely a plausible theory (But would that apply to Steve as well? And if so, why is he so worried?). “Maybe.”
“But would that go with us too?” He adds, the wheels in his head really were turning today. “I mean, is that how the beast picks their victims? Because they’re in a bad mental state?”
Well, now that makes sense if you put it that way. “It’s possible.” She said, nodding. Yeah, that’s completely possible. 
It explains a lot of things. More or so she wanted to admit. She knows these last two years were… interesting to say the least. Definitely could qualify as a ‘Bad Mental State’. And… she also has felt a bit stressed about school and talks about her future. But if she knew herself was in a bad state, then that means–
“Then… are you okay?” Steph asked, realizing something. The boy froze, like actually froze when she said that. It was a trippy sight to see. “Will?”
“What?”
“Are you okay?” She tries again, a bit gentler this time. “Mentally?” Nothing. “Will–
“I… I’m fine.” 
And then he lets go of her hand and starts walking a bit quicker– not even realizing he was doing so. She stops, concern on her face. She wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction from a simple yes or no question. She makes a note for herself that when they do get out of here she’s going to have a talk with him (Or at least tell Joyce about her concerns).
She sighs. Always got to be the therapist, Henderson.
She takes a step to move but stops, her eyes trailing off the road to her right, right into the void of the trees. It was weird. She felt like someone was standing right there – The same kind of presence back at the clock tower. 
“Huh.” She turns her attention back in front of her, then proceeds to freak out a bit when she notices how far Will was. She cusses and breaks into a sprint to catch up quickly.
Completely unaware of who that presence really was. 
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Steve steps over the barricades, his feet sinking into the leaves. Curiosity got the best of him you could say, or maybe the conversation last night really was getting under his skin (Like he’ll ever admit that), but he found himself here. Standing at a… crime scene, I guess. 
Her car went off road with herself and the Byers boy in it. Not long afterwards, they ditched it. 
His brown orbs trailed from the tree the vehicle hit and down the long road. He also knows, from what he’s heard, they both ran back to the boy’s house and then the trail went cold after that. But that’s the part that tickled his brain a bit. 
Why run all the way back home, a place you’re probably the safest at, and then leave it? It didn’t make sense in his book. Hell, it shouldn’t make sense in anybody’s book. What was the urge for them to run away from home and into the thick woods that surrounds Hawkins? 
He rubbed his chin and started thinking like he was going to solve this or whatever. Like…
He then scoffs at himself. 
What the fuck am I even doing? What is he doing? Why did he drive himself here? It’s not like he should care anymore. I mean, he shouldn’t care anymore. His parents would have his head if they knew–
Then there it is again.
That strange feeling that someone’s watching him. 
He turns around, half expecting a cop to be there to scold him, the other half expecting nothing and– Oh! What do you know? It was nothing. 
But even if it was nothing, he swears someone is standing there, watching his every move. Almost like this presence was here to judge him and see what other stupid things he can do today.
It was definitely giving him the heebie-jeebies.
He frowns, and looks away. “What the fuck…?”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
It took her an hour, but Joyce got all the lights up. She strung them all through the house, up along the wall and hanging gently off the ceiling. She hopes that she’s not losing her mind – She knows how silly this looks; Putting up Christmas lights in November (I mean, the holiday’s not that far off but still). She was expecting some reaction to happen, some or maybe all of them would immediately start blinking; Instead, her doorbell rings and she’s met with Karen Wheeler.  
Not wanting to be rude, Joyce invited her and her youngest in. Karen pops in a casserole she made into the oven, sitting next to the worried mother and tries to see what state she was in.
Joyce chuckles nervously when her guest notices the festive decoration. “Will always loved Christmas, you know. So I thought if I... I put the lights up... I don’t know, he... I’d feel like he was home somehow.” She covers part of her face with her hand. “I-It’s silly, I-I know…”
Karen shakes her head. “No. No, it’s not silly.” She takes the other woman’s hand in hers, giving her a gentle squeeze. “How is Jonathan holding up?”
Joyce takes a deep breath. “You know, he’s good at taking care of himself. He always has been, you know? I…” She scoffs. “I mean, he thinks I’m losing my mind, but…”
“Joyce.” Karen says, softly. “I want you to know something. If you need anything, anything at all... Ted and I are here for you.”
This sentimental moment caused them both to become oblivious to the lights flickering on in the hallway, a walkway pointing towards Will’s room. The only one who didn’t miss it was Holly, who was now sliding off her chair to follow.
“Thank you.” Joyce said, sincerely. 
Karen smiles. “Okay.”
The two women continued to talk, Joyce even bringing up Mike’s feelings about the whole thing – and even wondered if Claudia and Dustin were okay too. Meanwhile, little Holly Wheeler watched the lights flickered on and off, guiding her to the bedroom. Her eyes watched in awe as the many, many lamps that were lingered around Will’s room turned off and on one-by-one in a symphony-like way.
She giggles and claps, excited to watch this “show”. Then…
They all stopped and the nightmare began. 
Her happiness starts to pool away as she hears a scary sound. She then turns white as a ghost when she notices one of the walls was moving and stretching out towards her.
Who knows what would have happened if Joyce hadn’t come in and grabbed Holly, handing her back to her mother. 
“She shouldn’t be here.” Joyce said, scared in both tone and facial expression. 
Karen didn’t notice the seriousness of her look as she apologizes, “Oh, I’m sorry. She’s quite the explorer these days.”
“Wait, did you see something?” The worried Byers brushes her off, and the little girl nods quickly. “What did... what did you see? Tell me. What did you see?”
“Joyce!” The blonde scolds, but she’s already being shooed away.
“Karen, thank you for the casserole, but I need you to leave.” 
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Nancy tapped her foot repeatedly, impatiently waiting for the person to pick up the phone. “Come on, come on, come on…” She mumbled, gripping the payphone tight. “Come on–”
[ ‘Hello?’ ]
Oh, thank god. “Hi!” She says, eagerly. “Hi, uh, Ms. Holland, it’s Nancy.”
[ ‘Oh, Nancy, how are you?’ ]
“Good. I’m good. Um, I was just wondering, uh, is Barb there?”
[ ‘Mmm... No, she hasn’t come home yet.’ ]
“But she did come home, right? After the vigil?”
[ ‘No, she said she was staying with you last night.’ ] 
Shit. Nancy mentally scolds herself. “Right, yes. She did, sorry. I meant, did she come home this morning? I think she left some textbooks and she was gonna go pick them up.”
[ ‘Oh, um, no, I haven’t seen her.’ ]
“Do– do you know what? I just remembered... she’s at the library.”
[ ‘Nancy, will you please have her call me as soon as you find her?’ ]
“Yeah.” She shakes her head, frowning at how worried Barb’s mother was sounding. “Yeah, I will. Sorry to bother you.”
She hangs up the phone, frustrated. This wasn’t like Barb at all. In the past when they’ve had some disagreements, she’s never once disappeared like this. The only thing Barb’s ever done that was “extreme” was she did the silent treatment for most of the school day. 
This is so weird. This whole day’s been weird. She sighs and digs out some more change for the machine, and dials another number she knows by heart. The whole time as it rang she was nipping at the tip of her thumb. To her surprise, a voice she’s never heard before answered the phone.
[ ‘Hello?’ ]
The voice was a bit husky, but sweet with a pinch of sass. 
Nancy’s confused, and twirls the phone cord around her finger. “Oh, I’m sorry, who’s this?” She asked, wondering if she dialed the number wrong. “Is this the–”
[ ‘This is Jessica. How can I help you?’ ]
Jessica?
Jessica?
Jessica? Who’s…
Her eyes widened. 
Oh.
Now she recognizes the name. 
It was Steve’s mother – The woman she hasn’t met yet – The woman she’s “meeting” for the first time over the phone.
She swallows, nervously. “Oh, I-I’m… sorry. I was trying to get a hold of Steve.” She replies, feeling a bit awkward (and nervous?).
[ ‘Steven? And who are you to him?’ ]
Well she sounds lovely. She can hear the snobbishness in her tone, almost offended that someone was calling for her son. That’s a little weird.
“Um, I’m his girlfriend.” Nancy replies, trying to sound confident. “I was just wondering if he’s home? I haven’t seen him at school day and I’m a little worried.”
Then came the very long, very uncomfortable pause. For a second there she thought the mom hung up, it was so quiet.
[ ‘Girlfriend? That’s new. ]
“Did Steve not tell you about us?” Nancy asked, a bit hurt and a bit confused. He seemed so proud to show the whole school that they were dating, how come he never told his mother?
[ ‘What’s your name?’ ]
Skipping my question. I love it. “Um, Nancy. Nancy Wheeler, Ma’am.”
[ ‘Wheeler, you said?’ ]
“Um, yes.” Now she was puzzled even more. Was this a bad thing–
[ ‘That’s wonderful!’ ] 
Nancy blinks. “It… is?”
[ ‘My son’s dating a Wheeler! I almost can’t believe it.’ ]
And the woman was laughing with joy(?), which Nancy puts to the side. She just needs to get an answer to her own simple question. “That’s… wonderful, um… is Steve there?”
[ ‘No, he’s not. *Sigh* I swear if that boy’s skipping school, we’re going to have a problem.’ ]
And I think I just made everything worse. She straightens herself up, ready to end this. “Okay, Well… thanks, Mrs. Harrington, I’ll see if he’s maybe hiding out somewhere in the school.”
[ ‘Okay. Well, you have a good rest of your day, sweetheart.’ ]
Sweetheart? Nancy shakes her head again. “Thanks. You too.” She hangs up the phone. Well that was even weirder than the last one.
She crosses her arms, turning to head inside only her eyes to beeline to Carol and Tommy following someone closely – Tommy looking pissed off, especially. 
“What the heck?” She says, and hurries towards them.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Hopper and his partner entered the library with an idea – an idea hanging on a very thin thread that is. So, he puts on his best smile and takes off his hat, strolling up to the woman at the desk. “Hey, Marissa. How you doin’?”
The librarian pursed her lips. “You have a lot of nerve showing up here.”
He blinks. “What?”
“You could have at least called, said, ‘Marissa! Hey, it’s not gonna work out. Sorry I wasted your time. I’m a dіck’.”
Oh, now he remembers. “Yep.” He said, agreeing immediately. “I’m sorry. Uh... Maybe we could go out again next week?” She, and even Powell, made a face at him that gave him his answer. He smacks his lips and looks around. “Newspapers? You guys got newspapers around here?”
Marissa nods and shows them where they all are. “We have the New York Times, the Post, all the big ones. Organized by year and topic. You can find the corresponding microfiche in the reading room.”
“Okay, we’re looking for anything on the Hawkins National Laboratory.”
“Well, shouldn’t you be looking for that missing kid?”
“Yeah. We are.” Hopper pushes, and adds, “So, why don’t you start with the Times, and we’ll check out the Post.”
She scoffs in disbelief and walks off, Powell stepping up with a look on his face. “The librarian?” He said, getting a shrug.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Nancy sped up when she saw who they were stalking in the parking lot. Why would two people like Tommy and Carol go after a kid like Jonathan Byers? Nothing that went through her mind would give her that answer. When she got closer is when it got more intense. 
Tommy was practically manhandling Jonathan, yelling and trying to take his bag away from him. The eldest Wheeler sped up even more, full on running now.
She manages to step between the two of them, arms out in defense. “Hey! What’s going on?”
“This creep was spying on us last night!” Tommy said, pointing furiously. “Nicole says he was taking pictures of us by the pool.”
“I was looking for my brother.” Jonathan replies, holding his bag close.
“Bullshit. Now let me see.”
“Back off!”
Nancy steps in between them again. “Tommy, stop!” She yells, making him scoff.
“You’re defending this creep, Wheeler?” Carol asked, in disgust.
“First of all, you really going to believe what Nicole said? The girl’s like the boy who cried wolf.”
“Nancy–”
“Lastly, so what if he has photos of us at the pool? It wasn’t like we’re naked.”
“Naked or not, he still took pictures of us!” Tommy snaps, taking a step closer as she takes a step back.
“Pictures or not, he was looking for his brother–”
“How do you know, huh? How?”
“Because he’s been hanging out missing poster signs of him and missing school because he’s the big brother.” Nancy looks over her shoulder, locking eyes with Jonathan. “Go.” He hesitates. “Go, man!”
Not wasting another opportunity, he hustles off towards his car. Tommy tries to lunge towards him, but Nancy isn’t letting up.
“What the fuck, Nancy?!” Tommy shouted, and she chose to ignore him by walking away once she knew Jonathan wasn’t around. “Nancy!”
“Nancy, get back here!” Carol yelled.
“Nancy, you such a fucking princess! Wait until your boyfriend hears about this!”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Dude, I can’t believe you did that!” Lucas said, as they bike away from the school. “You know Troy and James are not going to let that slide.”
“I don’t care!” Dustin says, bitterly (and if he could cross his arms right now he would). “I don’t like when people bad mouth my friends, bad mouth my sister! I mean, for Christ’s sake, she was giving Will a ride home. What’s so bad about that?”
He doesn’t care if James’s waiting tomorrow to give him a wedgie, or Troy’s fist plummeting into his face, he doesn’t care. Both Will and Phanie had their fair share of bullying themselves, or whispers of derogatory names and speeches – All because Will was the “quiet kid” and wears “colorful” clothing; All because his sister wasn’t a “girly-girl” and a total nerd. He’s heard that all throughout his life, and sometimes he said something, sometimes he stays silent when told too – He probably should have done that today.
But those… fucking bullies just had to poke him when he was the most stress. Stressed out with each day that none of them had come home.
Jeez, he’s either going to get scolded or praised by his mother if she finds out about that interaction. 
“And don’t even try to convince me to beg them for forgiveness. They don’t deserve it and I’m standing my ground.” Dustin adds, shutting his friend up. As they rode closer and closer to their houses, he frowned, worriedly.
I just hope El knows what she’s talking about. He just wants to find them both soon (Safe and sound would be a plus).
The boys continued to ride until they arrived at the power lines behind the Wheelers’ house. Mike shouted and told the girl to hope on, warning all of them they only had a few hours to pull this off.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Joyce was standing in her kitchen with a cigarette when Chester started barking. She looks up to see the lights in the living room start flickering, and hurries in there. As soon as she entered they died down. Then, slowly the light directly above her activated, and then made a pathway to the other side of the room. Her fingers laced around them, and followed, ending up being directed at a bundle of them lying on the floor.
She rushes to take them in her hands, sitting down and taking a deep breath. It was now or never to find out if she was really losing her mind or not. She closes her eyes, and whispers,
“Will... are you here?”
There was a brief pause followed by the ball lighting up and fading. She chuckles in excitement, completely over the moon with fresh tears in her eyes. 
“Okay, good, good, good, good. Are you…” How should she do this? “Um, blink once for yes, twice for no. C-Can y-you do that for me, sweetie? Can you do–” The ball lights up again just once as she feels a tear run down her cheek and hugs the object.
She can feel it in her bones, in her heart now. She knows this is her baby boy. She knows that her son is still with her.
Joyce smiles and sniffles. “Oh, good boy. Good boy. Okay, Will, um–” Another deep breath. “Is… Is Stephanie with you too?” 
One blink. The girl who was kind enough to pick up her son is still with him despite all this time. She can finally put some of that guilt away now.
“That’s wonderful news.” She said, her expression growing bigger. However, this was going to be the hardest question yet to ask. “Baby, I need to know…” She swallows. “Are you guys alive?”
One blink and her heart skips a beat. She thanks any God who’s listening for this.
Her lip quivers as she follows up with, “Are you guys safe?”
Two blinks.
Her son and Stephanie were not okay.
Now, Joyce was shaking like a leaf as she clenched the lights tighter, her mind running a mile a minute on what she can do. What could she say that wouldn’t revert to playing twenty questions four times over?
“I need to know where to find you two, honey. Where... where are you? Can you... can you tell me where you are? Can you…” She chokes, her cheeks completely stained. “Please, baby. I need to find you. Tell me what to do. Please just... Will…”
She didn’t know how long she sat there and cried, wondering what she could do for her baby, for Steph; But at some point a light bulb idea appeared. She suddenly found herself stringing some lights on the wall over her couch, a row of three, before popping open a can of black paint and began brushing letters on.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
|| THE OTHER SIDE ||
“How do we get my mom’s attention when we can’t see what she’s done?” Will asked after hours of walking back to his home, he was disappointed to find that his house still looks the same. I guess their theory about earlier was right–
This world was stuck on the day he and Steph got kidnapped by the beast.
The oldest walked around a bit, thinking. Unfortunately, despite all the lights Joyce bought, they can’t see any of them. “Did she put it in your room, maybe?” Stephanie thought, and wandered inside.
Nothing. Of course. The only thing she saw that was possibly different was some scratch marks on the wall, ones that would be too high for a dog to do.
She swallows and leaves, meeting the boy in the hallway. “Did you have scratches on your wall before?” Will gives her a weird look and shakes his head. She hums. “We got to find those lights quickly. I think that monster’s been lurking around here.”
They found themselves back in the living room, and started moving their arms around, squinting too to see if something would appear. All hope was starting to seem lost until her hand hits an object above, a glowing hue appears for a split second.
“Whoa…” Will said, in awe, and suddenly, they both swore they heard a dog barking. “Chester?”
Steph took this as a sign to keep going, hitting the same spot again before gently moving her hand along the imaginary line. She trails to the little cabinet against the wall, feeling around until she hits something that makes light.
Come on, Ms. Byers. Please tell me you’re home. The two of them waited anxiously, waiting for the woman to speak, waiting for–
.
|| Will... are you here? ||
.
Joyce’s voice broke through, breaking them.
“Mom.” Will breaths, coming down to sit on his knees. “What do I–”
“Start feeling around. Just like I did.” Steph said, coming to sit next to him. He nods again, keeping calm and feels around – His fingers touching something that made the hue appear again. “Perfect. Just like that.”
.
|| Okay, good, good, good, good. ||
.
“See?” Steph says, happily. “It’s working.”
“Mom.” Will says again, smiling. Now, they just have to stay silent and listen.
.
|| Are you… Um, blink once for yes, twice for no. C-Can y-you do that for me, sweetie? Can you do– || 
.
Of course they can. So Will reaches out and touches it once.
.
|| Oh, good boy. Good boy. Okay, Will, um– Is… Is Stephanie with you too? ||
.
One touch. Will is eternally grateful that he’s not alone in this scary place. 
.
|| That’s wonderful news – Baby, I need to know… ||
.
There’s a pause, and they hold their breaths.
.
|| Are you guys alive? ||
.
Their hearts clenched at how painful she sounded. 
His poor mother. I can only imagine what she must feel like. Steph thought, and touched his shoulder, trying to give him some comfort.
He touches the air with a shaky hand, trying not to beat himself up over how much his mother was suffering.
.
|| Are you guys safe? ||
.
They frown, and he touches the air twice.
I’m sorry, Mom. Will says, trying not to picture the state she was in after that answer.
.
|| I need to know where to find you two, honey. Where... where are you? Can you... can you tell me where you are? Can you… Please, baby. I need to find you. Tell me what to do. Please just... Will… ||
.
“Mom?” He croaked, after she went silent. “Mom?”
“Ms. Byers?” She said, worriedly.
“Mom, please… where did you–”
Then they heard the couch scrap across the floor, hitting the wall, followed by the sounds of hammering. 
“What is she doing now?” He asks, both of them standing and hearing the string lights she must have in her hands clink together, and move along the wall. “Why is she hanging up more lights?”
Although he was puzzled, Stephanie was not. She walks over to the couch, getting onto the cushions and feeling around, the hues returning when she hits a certain spot. She laughs blissfully.
“Oh, your mom’s a genius.” Steph said, with a huge smile on her face.
Will gives her a look. “I don’t get it.”
“Watch closely. See–” She touches a line of lights near the ceiling. “Eight.” Then the middle. “Nine.” Then the bottom. “Nine. It makes twenty-six. Your mom’s a freaking genius.”
“Still not getting it.”
“Don’t you see? She didn’t just hang up more lights–” Her smile grows, and soon will his. “It’s an alphabet wall.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Nancy wasn’t sure what she was going to do. First Steve doesn’t come into school, and now no one knows where Barb is. She decides to kill two birds with one stone after school, and takes a drive over to the Harrington house. A quick driveby shows that her boyfriend’s car wasn’t there, so she figures he must have just skipped school because of last night’s disagreement. As for her best friend though, she couldn’t have said the same thing.
She slows down and parks directly behind Barb’s car, jogging over and taking a peek inside. Everything was the same, Barb’s purse was on the floor board, and the sweater she changed out of was laid in the seat. 
No. No way. She couldn’t believe this. If Barb didn’t drive home last night then where was she? She tried to come up with excuses, tried to make up ideas that would lead to her coming home without her car but…
Nothing made sense. 
She about cried on the way home, on the verge of a breakdown as she thinks only but the worst of the worst. 
“Hey!” Her mother calls out as she enters the house. “You’re home early! How was the game?” When her mother notices how quiet she was, it is when she meets her daughter halfway. “Nancy? What’s the matter?”
“I-It’s Barb.” Nancy croaks, shaking. “I think... something happened. Something terrible.” She hopes she’s just over exaggerating, but she doesn’t know about that.
She can’t shake off this dreadful feeling in the pit of her stomach.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“I don’t know, Chief.” Powell begins, really on the fence about all that they read.
“What don’t you know?” Hopper asked, confused.
“This lady, Terry Ives, sounds like a real nut to me. Her kid was taken for LSD mind control experiments? She’s been discredited. Claim was thrown out–”
Hopper sighs. “Okay, forget about her. Take a look at this.” He slides over a newspaper clipping he printed out. The headline said: ‘MK ULTRA EXPOSED’. He points to a familiar face in the picture. “Dr. Martin Brenner.”
“Who?”
“Brenner. He runs Hawkins Lab.”
“Okay…”
Hopper sits back in his chair with disbelief and scoffs. “You don’t find that interesting?”
“Not really.” Powell said, with a shrug. “He was involved in some hippie crap back in the day, so what?” 
“No, this isn’t hippie crap. This is CIA-sanctioned research.”
“Doesn’t mean he had anything to do with our kids.”
“Come on. Look at that.” Hopper points to the other people in the picture. “Hospital gowns. All of ‘em. Now, that piece of fabric that the teacher found by the pipe. That sure looked like a hospital gown to me, huh? Am I wrong?”
“I don’t know, Chief.”
“Come on, man. Work with me here. I’m not saying that there’s some grand conspiracy–” (You sure about that?) “I’m just…” He sighs, exhausted. “I’m saying maybe something happened. Maybe Will and Stephanie were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and they saw something that they shouldn’t have.”
Powell makes a face. “It’s a reach.”
“It’s a start.” 
Before more could be said, Powell’s radio goes off, and Callahan starts speaking.
[ ‘Hey, Powell, is the chief with you?’ ] 
Hopper wastes no time to reach over and take the radio off his partner’s shoulder, answering it, “Hopper here. What do you got?”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The boys follow Eleven through the woods, the sun finally setting, slowly engulfing them in darkness if it wasn’t for the lights on their bikes. To everyone’s shock and confusion, she had brought them to a familiar place.
She turns around and faces them, replying, “Here.”
Mike gives her a look. “Yeah, this is where Will lives.”
“Hiding.”
He shakes his head. “No, no, this is where he lives. He’s missing from here. Understand?”
“What are we doing here?” Lucas asked, dropping his bike in annoyance. 
“She said he’s hiding here.”
“Um…” He looks around. “No!”
Now it was Dustin’s turn to look annoyed. “I swear, if we walked all the way out here for nothing–”
“That’s exactly what we did. I told you she didn’t know what the hell she was talking about!”
Mike sighs and looks at her. “Why did you bring us here?”
“Mike, don’t waste your time with her.” Lucas replies, fed up and tired.
“What do you want to do then?”
“Call the cops, like we should have done yesterday.”
“We are not calling the cops!” 
“Hey, guys?” Dustin says, something catching his attention. 
“What other choice do we have?” Lucas yells again. 
“Guys!” He snaps, drawing their attention to the police cars rushing by, followed by an ambulance. Their sirens were blaring loudly, and were heading in a direction they all knew where it led to.
A dreadful feeling came to all of them instantly. 
“Oh no…” Mike whispers.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
|| THE OTHER SIDE ||
Stephanie wrote on the wall with a marker the best she could, drawing the alphabet in each row. They couldn’t see the lights or the letters Joyce probably scribbled on too, but they could make do with what they had.
“This should probably help, right?” 
“Definitely.” Will agrees with a nod.
“Good.” She smacks her hands together. “Alright, come on Mrs. Byers, talk to us. Ask us some questions.”
“Come on, Mom.”
They waited and waited, until they finally heard her speak.
.
|| Okay. Okay, baby, talk to me. Talk to me. Where are you guys? ||
.
“What should we say?” Will asked, as he climbed onto the couch.
“Uh…” What could they say? “Here! Right Here. Tell her that.”
“Okay.”
Will Reached up and started touching right above each letter, listening – His mother repeating back whatever he touched.
.
|| ‘R’. Good, good, good, good. That’s good. Come on, come on. ‘I..  G... H... T... H... E... R... E…’.‘Right here’. ||
.
Stephanie frowns, worriedly. Yeah, I know it doesn’t make any sense but it’s true.
“Come on, Mom. Understand. Please.” Will begged, quietly.
.
|| ‘Right here’? I… I-I don’t know what that means. I need you to tell me what to do. What should I do? How do I get to you guys? How do I find you? What should I do? ||
.
“Um…” Will looks over at the teenager. “What should we tell her?”
Steph’s mouth opens and closes quickly. What do they tell her if they’re not even sure what this place is? “Fuck… um…” She scratches her head. “How about–”
. “I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING.” .
The vicious voice seemed to spread itself around the house like a disease making the hair on their necks stand, and a chill ran up their spines. And then all the supposed “dead” electricity started going off, turning the whole house into a light show; Radios and TVs started going frantic; Fans turning on and spinning around too.
Will starts looking around all disoriented. “Steph, what’s going on?” 
“I–” She gasps as she hears the infamous growl in the distance, then the sound of the beast trying to bust through the wall behind her. “Will!!”
The boy frantically writes something out of his mother, just as the monster’s claw broke through the house. Steph takes a quick shot to stun it enough for them to run out the back door – From there, they were off running into the forest.
Again. 
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Joyce set the brush down, her alphabet wall was done and ready to use. She takes a few steps back so she can see the whole thing, and rubs her hands impatiently.
“Okay.” She breathes, mentally preparing herself. “Okay, baby, talk to me. Talk to me. Where are you guys?” It takes only a second for a letter to appear. “‘R’. Good, good, good, good. That’s good. Come on, come on. ‘I..  G... H... T... H... E... R... E…’.‘Right here’.”
What? 
That doesn’t make sense. What do they mean they’re right here?
“‘Right here’?” She says again, puzzled. “I… I-I don’t know what that means. I need you to tell me what to do. What should I do? How do I get to you guys? How do I find you? What should I do?”
She sees the light flicker again, and waits to see what they spell. Slight spoiler…
It was not what she expected them to say.
They were letters that were going to take her breath away.
R
And then all the lights in the house turned on and flickers rapidly, a sound of growling coming from behind. Scarcely, she turns to find something trying to crawl out of her wall. Terrified to even scream or speak, she starts to back away towards the door as a beast breaks through the wallpaper and hisses. 
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The boys biked faster and faster, trying to catch up to the emergency vehicles, fearing the worst was yet to come. Just like they suspected, they ended up right at Sattler Quarry.
Meanwhile, Hopper was shaking, praying that what Callahan told him was not true. He arrives at the scene to find paramedics going deep into the water, two stretchers trailing behind. He doesn’t even know if he parked the car or not as he rushes out; A terrible, terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He runs and blends into the crowd of firemen, waiting (im)patiently for their findings. 
“Oh, Jesus.” He mutters, trying so hard to keep his composure. “Oh, God. Please tell me it’s not the kids.”
The boys and El hid behind a truck, hearts in their throats as they watched as a waterlogged body of a boy was being loaded on the stretcher – soon followed by a larger female.
As soon as he saw the clothes, as soon as he saw the color of their hair, Hopper knew he was too late. Not wanting to break down right there and scream, he turns away and heads to his car. How in the world was he going to be able to tell Joyce and Claudia about this? How was he going to tell them that he failed to save their children after they begged him to? What could he have done differently to change this atrocious outcome?
The boys were shaking their heads from afar, not wanting to believe what they’re seeing. It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare. It has to be! They can’t really be–
“It can’t be them.” Mike choked, shaking his head. “It can’t be.”
“It’s Will and Steph.” Lucas says, lips quivering. Both boys were a mess, almost coming undone, but Dustin…
Oh, Dustin.
He felt like he was about to faint.
“Phanie…?” He whispers, taking a step back while holding his head. No. No. No, No, No, No, No, No, No, No, No– No! This can’t be real! This can’t be! She can’t be–
“It’s really them.” Lucas said, after getting another look once the bodies were brought back to shore. Tears were in his eyes, and they were ones he wasn’t even going to try to hide like he normally would.
Same thing goes with Mike, who was hugging himself, and sobbed. His best friend was gone. A girl that was like a sister to him was gone. He just couldn’t… wait. “Dustin?” He begins, looking over his friend who seemed so far away from this world.
It was a scary look, enough for even El to get scared and worried. She reached out to him, to comfort him; She even muttered his name for the first time.
To everyone’s surprise, he slaps her hand away.
“‘Dustin’? ‘Dustin’, what?!” He snaps, hatefully. “You were supposed to help us find them alive. You said my sister was alive?! Why did you lie to us?” He points at her, scaring her again. “What’s wrong with you? What is wrong with you?!” 
Eleven stays quiet, not even sure what to say from his outburst.
“Say something! Give me an answer, damn it!” He yells, as Lucas and Mike take a step closer.
“Dustin–” Mike tries, but the boy shakes his head and backs away.
“Screw this! Fuck everything!” Dustin turns around and grabs his bike, his friends ushering him to calm down before taking off. But whatever they say wasn’t going to be enough. The Henderson was practically up the hill when they finished their speech, and wasn’t planning on slowing down no matter what happens.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Meanwhile, not too far down the road, Joyce was running for her life – running whatever that thing was that crawled out of her wall. She was so scared that she didn’t even realize a car was coming towards her. Luckily, it stopped mere inches away, causing her to scream.
“Mom?” Jonathan says as he gets out. “Mom, what happened?” His mother couldn’t speak, only reaching out to grab her son and hold on to dear life. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I got you.” 
But everything is not okay. Far from it. 
Because in the distance, police were coming to inform them of the unfortunate news of their son and brother.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Steve slips through the sliding door in the back of his house since it was much quieter. He really didn’t feel like facing his parents just yet, and he knows this is around the time at night where they sit around with a glass of wine/beer and watch their shows. He’ll just see and deal with them in the morning, and hopefully they don’t notice any signs that there was a party last night.
He walks lightly across the floors, his mind set to go for the stairs which was going to be a bit tricky since they do tend to creak in some spots. A quick look into the living room he finds his dad on the couch, and his mother standing up but facing the opposite way. 
Perfect. He thought and made his move just as his mother’s voice broke through.
The black, wavy haired and brown eyed woman was pacing around a bit, clearly upset about something – or someone to be exact. 
“The boy was skipping school today, Richard. Can’t you believe that? How is suppose to keep up his grades?” 
Steve had to hold back from groaning as he eye rolled. Here she goes again. He chooses to ignore it, and is about to when he hears the next thing.
“If it wasn’t for his girlfriend calling we would have never known.”
He froze as soon as his foot touched one of the steps. Nancy called? 
His girlfriend actually called the house? She was actually calling because she was wondering where he was at? Even after their fight? He could smile because it warms his heart that she cares, but he was also devastated that his mother was the one to pick up the phone. He hasn’t even told–
“On the bright side, he’s dating a Wheeler. A Wheeler! You know what her father does for a living, right?” She chuckles with excitement. “It’s perfect. I can almost cry.”
And here comes another eyeroll. See this is why he didn’t bother mentioning this girlfriend this time around to his mother. He knew once she found out who her family was it was going to be a game changer. 
Jesus, Christ. He can’t wait to see what’s in store for him in the morning.
“Well, it beats the other choices he’s had in the past.” His father said, pouring salt into old wounds and making him shake his head.
These freaking people, man. I swear. Steve starts to go up the stairs when he hears another voice; This time it was on the TV.
. < In Other words– breaking news. The bodies of some local children, William Byers and Stephanie Henderson have been found. > .
He froze again, this time more rigid and cold.
No.
No, he didn’t just hear that right.
No, his mind’s just playing tricks on him because of last night…
Right?
. < The children have been missing since the 6th, and local authorities and it’s volunteers worked many hours to bring them home, only for it to end in a tragedy. >  .
“About fucking time.” Charles said, raising his beer with joy. “Damn weirdo. I guess our worries about her hanging out with our son again are put to rest.”
Jessica sighs with relief. “Thank God for that. I was tired of seeing her face everywhere.”
“Amen to that.”
He listened to his parents laugh, and clink their drinks together as the world started to spin around him.
No.
No.
This isn’t right. This isn’t right. This isn’t right. This isn’t right. This isn’t–
He’s not sure how much noise he made, or if he made any, but Steve was out the door again in a split second – running straight for his car where he’ll speed off to the unknown parts of Hawkins.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Dustin stumbles inside his house, slamming the door with more force than necessary. Maybe it was necessary ‘cause it got his mother’s attention. She came from the other room, asking what’s going on as he stares at her with a red face and puffy eyes, cheeks stained with tears that wouldn’t stop falling.
“Dustin? What’s wrong?” 
He felt like something was wrapped around his vocal cords, and there was a knife sticking into his chest, and there was something hot poking at his lungs. He has to speak. He has to tell her. It’s better if she knows from his lips rather than a man in blue. 
“Dustin?” She tries again, getting closer.”
“M-Mom…” He begins, his whole body starting to tremble. “St-Stephanie… sh-she’s… she’s…” Oh, god. Why can’t he freaking say it?
“She’s what?” Claudia asked, worriedness creeping up onto her features.
“Sh-She’s… she’s gone.” He whispers into a sob. “Th-They found them both in… I-In the quarry.” Another sob. “Th-They’re b-both gone. M-Mom. St-Stephanie’s gone…”
And then his mother started to shake her head and said ‘No’, followed by Dustin’s reassurance. This went back and forth for who knows how long, but it ended with Claudia being in the same state as her son – a hobbling mess.
“I-It’s true…” He gasps. “I-I saw it my-myself. They’re r-really b-both gone.” And then he broke down again, this time in her arms. She holds him tight, trying to be the strong one here. 
“Shh, baby, we’ll get through this.” She soothes, rubbing the curls on the back of his neck. Her son grips onto her clothes, burying his head into her chest and lets out never ending gasps for air.
“Mommy…” He choked, as his ears picked up on the sirens in front of his house.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Steve’s surprised the gas pedal hasn’t gone through the floorboard yet with how much force he’s applying. He doesn’t even know where he’s going, doesn’t even know if he’s hit something, or runs a red light, but he does know that he’s not anywhere near the speed limit. 
The news story was still playing around in his head and it was certainly not helping the situation. 
. < From the looks of it, the poor children had plummeted into the quarry and ended up drowning with possible hypothermia. But the mystery still remains on why these two disappeared in the first place. Hopefully, the police can find the answer to that, and bring some closure to the grieving families. > < Hopefully so, Liz. I can only imagine what they’re going through right now. > < Everyone here at WCPK would like to give our condolences. And we advise everyone watching to give a moment of silence for the children. > .
Steve slams on the breaks, the wheels spinning and making an awful sound as he stops along one of the abandoned roads in the town. He starts breathing heavily, which slowly turns into panting. His heartbeat was in his ears, his throat tight and dry, his brown eyes starting to gloss over.
“Fuck…” He whispers, in disbelief. No matter how many times he thinks this is a dream, thinks that maybe they were wrong and it was two other kids they found, his guts tells him ‘No’ and ‘This is real’. 
“Fuck…” He says again, the pain was slowly turning into anger which eventually led to him banging on every surface in his car. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!”
Stephanie Henderson was dead. The girl he knew since five was dead. The girl he made promises with was dead. The girl who was there for him at his every low was dead. The girl who was the only one to make him really laugh and smile was dead.
The girl he had to give up to protect was dead.
Stephanie Henderson… The girl that was his friend.
No.
Screw that! 
He didn’t want to make that choice but he had to.
The girl that is, and will always be, his friend is dead.
She was just supposed to keep moving on in her life, she was just supposed to keep hating him until she completes her dreams. She was supposed to stay in Hawkins and pretend not to know him until her dream life opens up and whisks her away. 
She was supposed to be alive and safe. 
She wasn’t supposed to be dead at the bottom of a quarry with a boy she offered to protect.
Everything he did to make sure she lived was now pointless.
Now, tears rolled down his face, his hands trembling and his lower lip quivered. Every emotion he kept locked up from their old friendship had returned and it was eating him away, tearing him bit by bit, suffocating him till he turned blue.
He still couldn’t believe it. He wishes he could blink and reality would reveal it was just another dream. 
He knows it won’t be like that. It never will be. So instead…
.
.
.
.
Steve found himself screaming until his throat ran raw.
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A/N: Did I emotionally destroy all of you enough? I apologize a bit if so...
~~~
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