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wheretheharekissesthefox · 7 months

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Tav’s sex parade – Chapter 6: Reaching for the star (Astarion x Gale x Tav)

(Trigger warning (18+): graphic description of sex, smut, threesome, anilingus, fellatio, anal sex, consensual blood drinking, gentle sex, PTSD responses, past non-con/rape)

Note: Astarion's PTSD gets triggered by a word that reminds him of the past which's described in another fic.

Astarion strutted into the living room with a smirk on his face. Gale had his back towards him, browsing through his many, many books on the shelves. The vampire spawn canted his hip to one side and held his head high haughtily, grinning with his fangs on full display.

"Hello, darling. You smell delicious tonight. How about you invite me for a bite?"

The wizard turned around, chuckling.

"At least, you asked first this time. Not like back then, on our way to Baldur's Gate, when you bit me in my sleep."

"That was vile," Astarion replied, wrinkling his nose. "You tasted like bile."

"That's what happens when you bite someone without consent who has a Netherese Orb stuck in their chest."

The vampire spawn pursed his lips and the wizard smirked at him.

"Gale?"

"How can I be of service, little star?"

Astarion's stomach dropped, he felt sick all of a sudden, and his head was spinning. In his mind, he saw her. Dead. Drained by Cazador.

Not this term of endearment, please, not this term of endearment.

"Astarion! Hey! Look at me! What did I do wrong?"

Someone touched him, tried to hold him. A man. The vampire spawn gasped in terror and scrambled away, babbling pleas of mercy.

"Astarion! It's me, Gale. Hey..."

The addressed blinked and found himself in a cowering heap on the floor with tears streaming down his face. And the man in front of him was no stranger. It was Gale. The wizard of Waterdeep. Astarion sobbed and fell into his arms and Gale shouted for Tav. The bard came running like she had a hoard of bloodhounds on her rear.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. We just talked, teased, and all of a sudden, he was a mess. He was panicking, fleeing from me, and pleading me not t– What's wrong with him?"

"I can't say. Something must have triggered him. What did you say?"

"I uhm... I don't remember exactly. I asked him if I could be of service and – oh..."

"What?"

"Little star."

Astarion sobbed.

"You called him that?"

"Yes. It's the meaning of his name after all, so, I thought – Well, it seems like it was a terrible idea."

"He killed her," Astarion muttered. "Cazador killed her."

Gale was confused. He didn't know what that meant, but Tav did. Sudden realisation dawned on her.

"Ooh... oh, no. Shit. That was bad luck, Gale."

"Huh?"

"Before he was turned, Astarion had a... a better half. Cazador killed her in front of his eyes as punishment. She has probably called him that."

The vampire spawn sniffed and pressed his face into Gale's neck.

"That's... gods... I'm so sorry, Astarion. Please, forgive me."

"For what?" mumbled the addressed. "You didn't know. Didn't know it would set me off. Hells, I didn't know it would. – This is so stupid."

"The mind's a fragile thing," Tav mused. "And when it's hurt, it's hurt. Slipping your control. The mind works in mysterious ways sometimes."

Gale hummed affirmatively while rubbing Astarion's shoulder blades in tiny circles. The vampire spawn took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of the wizard and his lavender-scented clothes. It was calming.

"How can we help you?" Gale asked.

"Hold me tight and love me," Astarion mumbled. "Take me apart and put me back together."

With Gale's and Tav's help, he made it to the bedroom.

"Are you certain you want to be intimate tonight?" the wizard probed, concerned. "I don't think it’ll help calm your emotional turmoil."

"I want it," the vampire spawn nodded. "Please, I need to be touched, to feel loved."

"Anything for you, love," Tav replied und kissed him.

Astarion moaned like a starving man. He'd climb inside her if he could, fuse with her into one. The human bard helped him strip and then, she doffed her own shirt and trousers. In her underpants, Tav sat up against the headboard, pulled Astarion against her chest, and wrapped her arms around him.

"Alright?" she asked, kissing his neck.

"Mmh, yes," the vampire spawn sighed.

Gale crawled closer and situated himself between Astarion's long, skinny legs. He was still fully dressed and it didn't seem like he desired to take his clothes off.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked and the vampire spawn nodded.

The wizard kissed him gently and Astarion sighed again. Of all the hundreds of men he'd kissed in his long life, Gale was the one with the softest lips.

"Can I touch you?"

"Please," Astarion whispered. "Please do. Anywhere."

Gale laid down and left a trail of kisses from Astarion's navel to his pubic mound. Like all elves, he was hairless everywhere except on his head.

"Uhm... I haven't done this with a man since I was a teenager. Apologies if it'll feel bad."

All of Astarion's alarm bells went off in his head and he had to clarify: "You've done this to a man when you were a kid?"

"No, we were almost the same age. I guess I phrased it unfortunately."

The vampire spawn took a breath and dropped the tension in his body. Gale seemed to wrestle with himself for a minute, lost in thoughts and definitely overthinking everything. Then, he licked the tip of Astarion's member. The latter gasped and Gale immediately looked up at him in concern.

"It's the heat," Tav explained helpfully. "We run much hotter than vampires."

"Aah, I see... fascinating. One day, we must explore the differences. Surely, there's a scientific explanation for –" The wizard stopped his rambling and cleared his throat. "Apologies. How rude of me to talk instead of giving you pleasure."

He bent down to run his tongue along Astarion's length, coating it in spit all over. The vampire spawn gasped and moaned, trying his damn best to keep his hips still. One of his hands grasped Tav's knee while the other sunk into Gale's long hair. The latter tensed.

"I won't push you down," Astarion promised. "I just need to feel you."

"Alright," said the wizard and wrapped a hand around him, his sweaty palm betraying the nervousness his face could conceal, and started to stroke. Astarion moaned, leaning his head onto Tav's broad shoulder. It felt good, so good. The bard kissed his neck and held him in her arms, caressing his ribcage with her thumbs, while Gale kept licking him. The latter was a quick learner and picked up on the vampire spawn's likings. That he shuddered and moaned every time Gale's fingers pulled down the foreskin, for example. The high-pitched sound he made when the wizard licked over the exposed glans.

"You're tongue truly is practiced," Astarion panted. "I'm glad you - mmh... you're demonstrating your - ah! - talent."

Gale hummed agreeingly, the vibration of it zapping through the vampire spawn like lightning.

"Oh! Gods!" Astarion's hips jerked. "I'm going to -"

He shouted when Gale licked over the glans again and climaxed. The wizard spat out the semen that got into his mouth.

"Ugh! Disgusting!" Then, he looked up sheepishly. "Apologies."

"No, no, I get it," appeased Astarion. "No hard feelings. Come here."

He outstretched his arms towards Gale and, when the latter leaned in, kissed him passionately.

"Mmh, thank you. That was amazing," he sighed blissfully.

Gale smiled at him, a bit nervously.

"Really?"

"Yes, darling."

The wizard flopped sideways over Astarion's and Tav's legs onto the bed with a stupid grin on his face. Absentmindedly, he stroked the vampire spawn's thigh, and Tav started to hum one of her new songs. The trio dwelled in the silence for a while and let Astarion recover from his orgasm. Then, the latter lolled his head around to look at Gale.

"I want to suck you off."

"You don't need to repay me," the wizard muttered, blushing.

"I know, but I want to do it," the vampire spawn replied.

"Uhm, alright..."

Bashfully, Gale started to strip. There was no reason for him to hide his body, but Astarion understood that certain insecurities and fears ran much deeper than the eyes could see.

The wizard hesitated before he reached for the waistband of his underpants and dropped them to the floor. He fidgeted, visibly embarrassed. Astarion had mercy on him.

"Come here, darling. Let me make you feel good."

Gale complied and sat down on the bed. Tav loosened her arms around the vampire spawn, but didn't move from her spot.

"Gale? How about I hold you too?" she suggested and the addressed looked at her surprised.

"That would be... nice, but I'm much heavier than Astarion."

"And? I won't break, if that's your concern. Have you seen me?"

At that, Gale smiled.

"I've most positively seen you, my dear, and you're rivalling goddesses. And trust me when I say; I know what I'm talking about."

The wizard winked at her smugly, and Tav laughed amused. Then, she beckoned him closer and Gale leaned against her chest carefully. His torso was longer than hers, thus, he basically dwarfed her.

"I don't think this works," he said.

"Oh, it will," grinned Astarion and, with one fierce yank of the legs, pulled Gale downwards. The latter squeaked in surprise as he slid halfway down Tav's front and ended up with his legs on Astarion's shoulders. The vampire spawn grinned devilishly.

"Look at you, darling. Bent in half like a pretzel. I didn't know you were quite so flexible."

Gale turned crimson and, since he had nowhere to run, tried to hide his face behind his hands. Astarion laughed gleefully and kissed him breathless.

"Let me give you pleasure," he whispered against Gale's lips. "I want to hear you scream my name."

"I don't scream."

"But I can surely try to get you to do so," Astarion purred before nosing his way towards Gale's manhood. He licked his member, then his balls, and the wizard's breath hitched. Astarion wasted no more time and swallowed him down. A nice mouthful, as he noted rather pleased. Gale gasped at the coolth of Astarion's mouth, and started to pant and squirm. With a smirk, Tav kissed his neck and ran her hands down his arms. The wizard trembled. Astarion stayed in the presence, focusing on his task, instead of hiding away in his head. While he worked Gale's length with his mouth and right hand, he rolled his partner's balls with the other. Slowly, he traced a finger down the wizard's perineum to his hole.

"No," Gale panted. "Not there."

Astarion hummed and pulled his hand away immediately. He respected other people's boundaries. His own had been violated often enough to know how daunting it was.

Instead, the vampire spawn place the hand on the outside of Gale's thigh while continuing to pleasure him with his mouth. The wizard moaned lowly and placed his hand on top of Astarion's while he clutched Tav's biceps with the other.

"Astarion," he warned, but the addressed simply hummed and kept going. Gale's breath hitched and his body tensed as he came. The vampire spawn swallowed the load and concluded that he like the taste of Gale much better than Halsin's. It was less pungent, less... animalistic, but almost slightly sweet instead. He swallowed again, lifted his head up, and licked his lips with a moan.

"Oh, Gods," groaned Gale as he looked at him, dazed and still drunk on his orgasm. "You're so –"

He grabbed Astarion's shoulder to pull him into a sloppy kiss. He was still panting and his legs were still shaking a little. The vampire spawn licked into Gale's mouth with a moan. He felt blissful.

"Good?" he asked.

"The understatement of the century," Gale panted, eyes at half-mast. "Thank you, I had a most excellent time."

"Don't talk like it was a business transaction," snickered Astarion and bumped their noses together.

"Apologies. It's been a while."

Tav frowned, but didn't say anything. It made the vampire spawn giggle.

"Seems like our darling bard doesn't suck dick enough."

"He didn't let me!" she defended herself. "I gladly would have!"

"It's true," Gale came to her rescue. "I thought it would be - hm - weird, but it was rather nice."

"'Rather nice'?" Astarion gasped in mock offence. "How dare you! I have more than two hundred years of experience. Don't talk about a professional like that!"

"Apologies," chuckled Gale, blushing a bit.

"Now, now," said the vampire spawn while petting the wizard's knee. "You can redeem yourself later."

"I don't know about you, but I'm spent."

"Nothing a little magic can't fix, I wager," Astarion said and kissed him again, before he bent upwards to kiss Tav as well. She looked at him, stroking his jaw.

"What else do you want tonight, Astarion?"

"Make me feel loved," he answered and Tav knew exactly what he meant.

After detangling herself from Gale and giving him a peck, the bard crawled over to Astarion and started kissing him everywhere. That's what he loved most; being kissed, licked, and caressed from head to toe. Gale watched in fascination as Tav made the vampire spawn lose himself in ecstasy. After going up and down the front of his body, Astarion turned around and let her repeat the treatment there. Tav spent some extra time with his scars, being especially gentle, and humming a soothing melody. Astarion felt warm all over, happy and peaceful. He moaned shamelessly to let the love of his life know how much she pleased him.

Gale almost forgot to breathe while he watched as the vampire spawn lifted his buttocks and Tav licked him there too without hesitation. Astarion mewled, pleading for her to go deeper, for fingers, and for even more. It made the wizard dizzy and he felt his manhood stir.

"I want – I want to put my mouth on you again," the vampire spawn panted and Gale nodded eagerly.

Tav sat up and caressed Astarion's thighs before he crawled towards the wizard who leaned back and spread his legs willingly. The vampire spawn started to lick him again, giving Gale a similar treatment he'd given Astarion. Tav continued to eat the vampire spawn out and hit his prostate with her fingers. Astarion moaned and stopped what he was doing. Instead, he leaned his head against Gale's hipbone and panted right against his erection. The wizard hissed at the coolth of Astarion's breath, but it felt nice nonetheless. The vampire spawn came with a long, loud guttural moan, spilling all over the bedsheets and his abdomen. Tav retreated, panting, and looked smug. The vampire spawn turned in Gale's lap to look at him, eyes glazed over and at half half-mast.

"Darling... Gale, I want you inside me. Please."

The wizard shivered under the intense gaze.

"I... I don't know if I'm any good," he admitted.

Astarion barked an amused laugh.

"No matter how bad you are, I had much, much worse. Trust me."

"How do you know?" asked Gale, insecure.

"Because there's nothing that feels worse than rape."

The words hit the wizard like a bucket of ice.

"No... No, he didn't –"

"He did. But that's in the past. Now, please, take me."

Gale couldn't resist these sweet words and leaned down to kiss the other man and muttered: "How do you want me?"

"On your back."

The wizard went willingly, laying down on the mattress, and gave Astarion control over the situation. Wordlessly, Tav handed the vampire spawn the vial of oil and sat back to watch. Astarion covered Gale's erection with the lubricant quickly, before straddling and sinking down on him. He threw his head back with a moan while the wizard gritted his teeth to bite back a loud groan. Astarion felt cool and tight around him – he should have expected it – but it still felt amazing. The vampire spawn looked down at him, placed his hands on Gale's chest and started to move. The wizard's hands shot up to hold onto Astarion's slim waist.

"Gods..." he groaned, trying his best to keep his eyes open.

"You - feel - so - good. Mmh!" Astarion circled his hips and grounded them into Gale's lap. "I want to taste you, now that the orb's gone. Please."

Gale had no idea what came over him, but he suddenly wanted to be bitten.

"Yes, do it," he panted and tilted his head to the side.

Astarion moaned and leaned closer, changing the angle in the process. He licked the wizard's neck, took a deep breath, and when he buried his teeth in him, Gale came with a shout.

"Ooh..." the wizard moaned as his eyes rolled back in his head. He'd never experienced anything like this before. Astarion groaned as he drank Gale's blood and stroke his clean-shaven jaw. The latter trembled with the force of his orgasm. Astarion drew back and sat up, panting and with bloodied teeth, a slight tint coloured his pale cheeks. He looked wild and powerful as he pleaded: "More! I want more. Fill me up, please!"

The vampire spawn knew his request was stupid and unrealistic, but the words were out before he could keep them in.

Gale mumbled some ancient words and Astarion, in disbelief, felt him grow hard again inside him. The vampire spawn shuddered in pleasure.

"Oh... yes.... yes! Gale, please!"

The wizard gritted his teeth and rolled his hips up, bouncing Astarion in his lap. The latter moaned blissfully, he could feel saliva drip down his chin, but he couldn't stop himself from drooling. He'd quit babbling pleas, panting open-mouthed instead. He was so close to another orgasm. And then, Gale threw his head back with a low moan, and came again. Astarion felt the gush of hot seeds flooding his cool body a second time and he mewled. The wizard kept coming – and coming. The vampire spawn sobbed and shook with the intensity of the feeling as he climaxed. He collapsed onto Gale's chest, not able to stop moaning. For a while, the men just lay there and tried to catch their breath.

"What - what did you do?" Astarion groaned.

Blushing, Gale slung an arm over his face to hide as he explained, still panting: "It's a mating ritual spell, meant to - to heightened the chances for a pregnancy."

Astarion, thanks to the ingested blood, turned crimson.

When his mind felt less like scrambled eggs, he muttered: "Tav? Darling?"

"Hm?" came the answer from the foot of the bed.

"Do you need something? We didn't pay you any attention."

Tav smiled at Astarion's worries, replying: "No, I'm fine. Tonight was about you, and seeing you and Gale lost in pleasure's enough for me. You're beautiful together."

Slightly bashful, Astarion turned his face and hid it in Gale's chest. The latter sighed and wrapped his arms around him.

"This was lovely, but now, I'm sated for the next couple of weeks."

Astarion snickered and Tav grinned at the wizard's words. The bard flopped down next to them, fully content, and let her gaze wander over her two entangle, blissed-out lovers. She stretched her stiff limbs with a smile and dwelled with Astarion and Gale for the rest of the night.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #fanfic #astarion x gale x tav #astarion #astarion ancunin #gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #tav #smut #mind the trigger warning

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iradivinitatis · 7 years

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ninRepost, do not reblog.

Quick Ref Sheet || Mun and Muse Edition! Tagged By: no one just wanted to do it Rules: tag 10 of your followers that you want to know better!

Muse:

Name: Saïx (Isa Badr) Nickname: Sai, The Luna Diviner, VII Zodiac Sign: Capricorn (January 7th) Gender: Male Favourite Colour: Green Average Hours of Sleep: what is sleep Last Thing You Googled: Define; motivation Height: 5′5″

Mun:

Name: Jamison Nickname: Jamie, Jez Zodiac Sign: Leo (August 12th) Gender: Male Favorite Colour: Blue Average Hours of Sleep: 5-7 hours Last Thing You Googled: kissanime (im watching haikyuu rn lmao) Height: 5′5″ Tagging: @igniisaeternum, @gunontherun, @thegaleandlance, @thedemonkingganon, @teardownheaven, @vanityblades and whoever elses wants to do this!!

#about the mun #about the muse #headcanons #i make saix shorter and shorter everytime i make his height tbh #now we're the same height #he's tiny #he can't reach things on high shelves without climbing #get him a stool

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anime-writings · 2 years

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Grocery Runs

Ft. Smoker and smol s/o bc he tall and I'm smol (155cm) and always need help going grocery shopping and lowkey self-insert but leave me alone AWOEFJSJFKGLHJD

@childofblackmaria helped come up with these with me ily

tw: Food? Just in case

Man's need to stop living off of coffee and nicotine 24/7. His organs aren't okay I say while I literally do the same on school days

SO Y'all actually start to establish a healthy diet and a schedule for grocery errands and cooking bc he's getting older and needs to get his shit together ily smoker but holy shit I can't be a widow at 30

Man's also got a library in the kitchen with cookbooks bc he can't make anything more complicated than boiling water for his coffee

WE ALL KNOW HE TALL AF OKAY SO HE HAS AN OBLIGATION TO HUMANITY TO REACH HIGH PLACES AND IF HE WERE TO REJECT SAID OBLIGATION HIS LIVING PRIVILIEGES MIGHT BE REVOKED

You know how some veggies are way too high and you gotta like, climb onto the fridge ledge thingy? Man just grabs it so effortlessly while looking at his phone bc he wants to look up the nutritional info. What a fuckin nerd i love him and yea I did it once and fell face first into lettuce and kale trying to get bell peppers

Y'ALL KNOW THOSE SUPER TALL SHELVES?? YOU PUT A FOOT ON THE BOTTOM SHELF AND START TO JUMP UP AND HE LOWKEY STARTS HAVING A HEART ATTACK BC HIS BABY?????

In this case, he'd do one of two things. 1) He picks you up and lets you grab it, or 2) probably knocks it off the shelf like a cat

OKAY BUT I FEEL LIKE THIS MAN IS LIKE SUPER GOOD WITH MONEY AND BUDGETING??? AND LOVES THE SALES

EXTREME COUPONING DILF

He'd probably carry around a calculator and a printed Excel sheet for the month's budget and do some math to figure out the most nutritious food that will fulfill RDA and budget

He has a cap on the maximum number of snacks bc last time you went grocery shopping without him, you bought like a dozen bags of hot Cheetos and spicy chips and ended up spending an hour in the bathroom crying and saying how you'll never eat spicy chips again he doesn't believe you and has banned spicy chips and is currently in a lawsuit with spicy chip companies to sue them for physical and emotional pain in his s/o

a/n: I am so sorry I wrote this at like 3am while I'm studying organic chem and I was like 'CRACKY HCS???? PLS'

#captain smoker #one piece #op #one piece headcanons #smoker one piece #vice admiral smoker #white hunter smoker #smoker x you #smoker x reader #smoker x y/n #smoker hcs #smoker headcanons #anime-writings

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mihorapendeja · 3 years

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happier than ever | tsukishima x you

the one shot in which tsukishima basically falls for a female version of everyone's favorite sunny tangerine.

genre: fluff/soft core smut lmao i haven't done this in years i feel silly but here you go

pairing(s): kei tsukishima x you (referred to as "ria kihira" in part 1 bc this was originally going to be an OC thing but nvm a/n's: show this some love and interaction pls.

PART 1: THE PAST

❝Again?❞ Even though Tsukishima complained again, this time he made it easier for her as he even stood completely still. Such a good boy.

❝Let her beat your face!❞ Shoyo exclaimed as she smiled in delight, then moving on to pat the powder puff on his stupid face. Of course she only took a few seconds for him, but all the time in the world for Hinata.

While the two chirped about the new reboot trailer for Dexter, Kuroo's sleazy self slid beside his lanky child with an extra smug look on his face. That man was a menace.

❝Say, don't you think they look related?❞

Tsukishima was a difficult man to catch off guard, but right then and there, a mini existential crisis kicked in. His eyes darted back and forth between Shoyo and Ria Kihira, the makeup artist on set for the commercial filming day.

Kei knew Kuroo was a slut for all the pretty things in life — he constantly had a trope of hot women surrounding him.

But this time, he'd really outdone himself.

Not a stupid man entirely, a huge shit-eating grin formed on Tetsuro's face. He followed Kei's eyes who desperately wandered back and forth their matching hair, skin tone, lack of height... "please let it be a mere coincidence because it's bad enough that—" Kei shut his own intrusive mind from further thinking as he slapped his hand over Kuroo's mouth shut. Tight.

That hyena laugh was not being unleashed today.

THE STORY OF HOW YOU MET:

ca. 2019, on set of a commercial for one of Kuroo's production companies. After Tetsuro had defeated Kei in a game of beer pong, he had to comply with the loser's bet -- be part of the damn commercial along with Shoyo, for a viewership boost. So he said. Ria was the makeup artist on set that day, and it pretty much went from Tsuki acting like a feral cat who didn't want to be touched by any makeup tools, to blissfully passing out in a chair while she gently stroked his face with a soft powder brush.

Near the end of the day when he'd no longer back away from her with animosity, it was Kuroo's stupidly astute observation that left him rattled. The boy was put into a choke hold because he refused to like someone with the same orange hair and milky skin tone as Hinata. Someone equally bright, bubbly, and stupid ... yeah that refusal didn't last long. Ria spoke her mind so freely, being direct but never pleading because she respected herself in that regard. He liked that and before Kei knew it, he found himself admitting to her that he was, "actually quite fond of you." She understood it was his way of saying those pesky 3 words, 8 letters.

PART 2: THE PRESENT, 3 YEARS LATER.

THE ALARM CLOCK rang it’s deathly siren like tone, nearly sending you into cardiac arrest. Although he defensively stretched an arm out over your chest as if ready to protect, Kei did not get up.

Of course he wouldn't.

Like every morning at 4am, it was you who suffered the most when getting out of bed to grab the phone to silence that torture down. As you had deeply sighed and turned to face the bed, Tssuki was now face up with the covers all the way up to his nose.

Even in your groggy state, you could tell he was smirking. That smug bastard stared at you intently, dead still. While Kei typically minded his own business and was at times thought of as quiet, the boy was definitely not shy. You wouldn't call him a total flirt, but he could so hold onto a gaze without so little as batting a long eyelash.

Kei was, extremely competitive. Lightning would have to strike his literal eyes to keep them from staring at you, specifically at your curvy thighs.

The way your soft cotton shorts rode up them was always a very pleasant sight, so he just kept staring, happily.

He loved that little penguin walk you busted into every morning when shutting the alarm off.

It’s like you couldn’t balance properly, and he swore that you were always shorter looking in the early hours of the day. He didn’t know how you could lack more height than you already did at barely 5 feet 2, but it always seemed that way.

It was especially cute, like he could just grab you and keep you in the palm of his hand.

Tired, you sat back down on the bed. You scooted until meeting the headboard, and then just let her head dip back.

It was so incredibly peaceful until you could no longer ignore his obvious glaring. “If you’re awake already, why don’t you get up?”

“It’s barely 4:05,

we don’t go in till 5am.”

He said so factually that you just deeply exhaled. Tssuki was definitely not a morning person, and neither were you.

Even though you were much more energetic, it was a Friday and you could not wait for the end of the workday already.

While Tssuki could be late to practice because let's be honest, few would even confront him, you could not pull off the same irresponsibility.

You cared way too much, and in general, hated the feeling of being late to anything. "Come on." You murmured, nudging Kei as he completely ignored you and kept on sleeping.

You waited for another minute before climbing out of bed, grabbing his attention once again. This time, your black shorts were scrunched further up. So far up that your ample ass cheeks were out in all their glory.

“Arigato, thank you god.”

Nishinoya would say.

“Well I’m not as naturally good looking as you so I’m gonna go shower and start getting ready.”

You huffed, truly riling Kei up inside. Hearing you say that genuinely made something inside of his stomach stir, so he instinctively reached out towards your wrist.

Even in the dark room, he could see your face clearly and tell you weren’t joking. "The fuck is wrong with her?" He thought, not angry, but extremely concerned because you weren't fishing for a compliment.

The two of you had been together for over 3 years now, and so he more than knew that you were not that kind of girl.

Yes, you lacked height at 5’2, but you were physically strong. Literally, you could carry all the grocery bags in one go with no issues. Lifting abilities? Check.

Even though Tssuki cruelly chose the apartment with extra high kitchen shelves, you would never ask for help to reach for stuff. "Help I can't reach" was not a phrase that existed in your world.

Literally, he’d sometimes walk in for some juice and find you on top of a chair reaching for something, if not on the literal counter tops to store items.

Independent? Check.

Resourceful? Check.

On top of all that, you had a voluptuous body he thought was fucking scrumptious. He understood that the norms for women in Japan could be vicious, especially if you weren’t a slender door like he was, but despite your insecurities, you still wore it all so well. You didn’t let it stop you from wearing whatever you wanted (as you should).

At times he did think you were a little bit stupid for fretting over such body image issues, but Tssuki was okay with that.

He didn’t want a know it all like himself, that be beyond insufferable.

Before he knew it, you were teaching him a thing or two as well. So Tssuki then knew you were not a vapid pick me girl, and that was honestly a pretty big turn on for him.

SPEAKING OF TURN ons, Kei found it incredibly hot to have you pinned beneath him, like you currently were.

It wasn’t an ingenue kink, to have you below him so submissively and weak, no. It was the way you fought to assert yourself, and the way you writhed. The way you tried to break free was no half assed attempt either.

Sometimes you'd even throw in a few knees into it, and Tssuki didn't mind it one bit. Two dominate personalities, things were always bound to be feisty in bed.

This time however, he sensed some a defeat in your soul.

Convinced to rekindle your spirits, his brows furrowed as he lowered himself closer to your pretty face.

“Take that back.” Tssuki growled in a low, oh so sexy deepened morning voice.

“I can’t, It’s true.” You protested, sighing as he pulled himself away only to then wrap his arms around your waist and throw you over his shoulders.

Misreading the situation, you first protested before breaking into full on laughter as he stormed into the shower with you still dangling, kicking your short legs in the air.

You had thought this was playful Tssuki, the version no one was too familiar with.

Except you … and Yamaguchi. You and Yams lived to exchange Tssuki-isms.

You were mistaken when trying to approach him as he had stripped entirely. God, you so badly wanted to touch his defined chest and close the space between —and that’s when your favorite salt mine smirked as he instinctively reached back to swivel the shower handle on.

Grabbing the detachable shower heard, Tssuki sprayed you down.

"That son of a bitch." You thought, having jumped back in shock, literally. The water was so fucking cold.

Tssuki raised a brow, testing you. On one hand, he thought you looked like a helpless kitten that was abandoned on some random parking lot on a rainy day.

He was an asshole, but if he ever came across a lonely stray cat, he'd so scoop it up and take home for some warm milk.

On the other hand, he thought you looked even more hot with the way your baggy shirt now clung onto every part of your curvaceous body.

Tssuki had to exhale as he saw your nipples peaking through your smaller but perfect chest. He just wanted to cup your perky tits, squeeze them and hear you moan in delight—your hot breath on his ear as you rested a side of your face on his.

“Can’t touch me till you take that back.”

He warned as you tried to take a step forward.

“Tssu— you whined, sighing as you crossed your arms, cold.

“Admit it, you’re beautiful. Say it.” He insisted as you tossed your head back. "I’m beautiful … kinda, I mean” you trailed off, too distracted by your own cruel thoughts to notice when he raised the shower head again to spray you down.

“Ouch!” You gasped this time, burned by the super hot water. Tssuki turned, realizing that instead of increasing the water’s pressure, he had turned it to the hot side.

Steaming hot.

He rubbed them back of his neck, sheepishly trying to play off. That stupidly cool bathroom is literally what had sold him into choosing that apartment.

After a long day of training, having a large bathtub to soak in, or large walk in shower that doubled as a sauna to rest in was a treat. Not only that, but curative. You swore that this man's epsom salt baths were the reason his long limbs were always good to go, pain free.

Tssuki rushed to place the shower head back on, pushing a few buttons on the digital control panel to get some therapeutic steam going.

On a good morning, he'd already have you pinned to the wall. Your face buried into his neck as Tssuki spread your ass apart, drilling his every inch into you.

But sadly, this wasn't a good morning ... yet. When you waved a hand out in defeat, eyes swelling with tears, Kei grabbed you right before you could step away.

You slammed into his chest with a light thump as he then grabbed your shoulders to keep you balanced. "My clumsy pumpkin." He thought as you raised your head to meet his warm eyes.

Tssuki lowered his face, gently planting a kiss on your forehead. Pulling away, he grabbed your arm & extended it out as he begin to plant a trail of kisses over the burned-pink area. His kisses deepened the closer he got to your neck, stopping only when at your jawline.

Now, the two of you were staring directly at each other, his eyes radiating all the comfort you wanted to see: love, adoration, lust. It was so quiet, but your heartbeat was so damn loud.

His actions were doing all the talking. Now completely soaked, you looked down at the hem of your shirt as Tssuki grabbed both ends and begin to lift the blouse up and away from you.

Left in nothing but shorts, he kept his eyes locked on you as you nodded while he lowered himself to help you out of them.

Now, completely naked, he just stared at you in awe.

You were his goddess, and he was going to happily worship, service, respect, love.

ARIGATO GOD.

“I don’t know why you hesitate” he softly whispered as you took in a deep breath, suddenly feeling overly emotional. Near tears kind of overwhelmed.

To keep yourself from actually sobbing, you cleared your throat to speak up, “I love my job, but I guess sometimes working with so many beautiful models, I can’t help but to compare my—

Tssuki had heard enough about your delusions. His hands flew the sides of your face, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You felt such a thrill surging through your body as he so easily hoisted you up.

It was your favorite thing in the world, to wrap your legs around his long torso, and it was Tssuki’s favorite thing to dig his hands into your firm ass, your soft thighs.

Pulling away, he takes slow steps forward so your back gently meets the wall. With one hand, he caressed your face , thumb gliding over your cheek before connecting his forehead with yours.

“As I was saying, - I don’t know why you hesitate to say it, but I think you’re the most beautiful person in this whole goddamn world.”

A pesky tear escaped onto your cheek, and Tssuki blotted it away with a kiss, burying his face closer to yours. So close your noses are now touching.

When he wanted to, Tssuki could be so completely soft.

“You don’t know every single person in this world.”

You laughed, still touched by his bold declaration.

“I mean it. Waking up to you every morning I think wow, I’m so lucky.”

He admits as you then break into another chuckle. “You’re so full of shit, that’s not the first thing you think of.”

Tssuki pulls on your lower lip down with his thumb, chuckling back. “You idiot sandwich I didn’t say it was the first thing, but it’s a close second.”

You find yourself laughing out loud, his frisky smile fully plastered on his face as your nose scrunches in that way he finds so fucking adorable.

“Begone negativity.” He both teases and shudders at the thought of how Suga burned that in the back of his mind.

“Do I have to sing that stupid One Direction song to you?” Tssuki then jokingly added as your eyes widened.

“You wouldn’t!”

“You’re right that’s disgusting.” He scoffed, hoisting you further up as he took your breath away with another kiss, this time, his hands running through your hair.

It was always a mystery with him, never knowing if he was going to pull on your hair, or caress it.

This time however, as his tongue slipped into your mouth, eager, you couldn’t help but to squeal. You had to give it to him, the man was great at multitasking. While he deepened the kiss, Tssuki tapped the melody of that dumb song on your thighs as if drumming.

"You're insecure, don't know what for, you're turning heads when you walk through the door / don't need makeup to cover up, being the way that you are is enough --

Everyone else in the room can see it

Everyone else but you

Baby, you light up my world like nobody else

The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed

But when you smile at the ground, it ain't hard to tell

You don't know, oh, oh, you don't know you're beautiful."

Tssuki had really taken SMACK MY ASS LIKE A DRUM to a whole other level, and you couldn't even be mad about it.

"Having fun, ya happy doing that?" You teased as he now gave himself a quick rub, fully erect. Your man was so well endowed and that was both exciting and terrifying at times. While you loved dominant Tssuki, today he was a bit more mellow and less gimp man.

"Fuck, Kei-" You moaned as he slowly entered you, rubbing your clit with his thumb, the pressure just right. "I'm definitely having fun, in fact" he smirked as you moved down to slam yourself further into him, begging for more, "I'm happier than ever."

#haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu!!#tsukishima x y/n #kei tsukishima #tsukishima x you #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #shoyo hinata #tsukishima fluff

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writhingcreature · 4 years

Text

Lovers ~ Ep. 1: Chapter 1

Summary: As senior year at Derry High begins, Bill Denbrough is faced with the anniversary of his brother's death. Meanwhile, the rest of the group has trouble letting go of the past

Episode Length: 8000+ words

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It was raining outside. You could hear the thick raindrops plopping against the window almost methodically. The sound was rhythmic and peaceful, the sound sinking into one's skin and loosening up their muscles. The sky was cloudy, but not so much that it blocked out the sun. Even when it rained the sun still shone on Derry. I guess only nighttime could truly conquer the blazing sun.

William Denbrough was making a boat. No one called him William and when they did it was usually a teacher or parent and he was in trouble, so to say he much preferred his nickname, Bill, was an understatement. Bill's fingers traced along the binding of a notebook as he carefully tore the page out, one hand gripping the end of the other side of the page as his other followed along the rip lines to make sure it was a clean tear. He began to carefully fold it, a frown on his face and his eyes centered on his work as he leaned in a little. Everything he did he liked to do well, but this was a boat and if Georgie was going to be able to float it, it had to be perfect. He didn't want the younger boy to come home crying because it had sunk.

George Denbrough was sitting in a corner. He had a very short attention span. Even after meaning to pay attention, he still ended up at the window, his finger tracing the fogged up glass to draw two dots and a curve underneath. A smiley face. George, like his brother, didn't hear that name too often- unless he was lost in a store or running too far away on a walk. People usually called him Georgie. Bill called him Georgie. He preferred that name, especially when it came from Bill.

Thinking of Bill, Georgie frowned. "You sure you won't get in trouble, Bill?" He asked his older brother, turning from the window to the boy he was speaking to.

Bill, sitting on his bed, paused in making the boat just for a second. "Don't be a w-wuss," he scolded. "I'd come with you if I weren't-" he cut off to cough twice. "Dying." Bill was still in his pajamas, comfy and warm. And he intended to stay that way.

"You're not dying!" Georgie insisted as he stood, a little irritated and a little worried. He didn't like the idea of Bill ever dying.

"You didn't see the v-vomit coming out of my nose this morning?" Bill asked far too innocently, fighting a smile as he began the boat making again, finishing up.

"That's disgusting." You could hear the scrunch of his nose and the curl of his lip in the way he said the word, but Bill could also see those things on his face and both almost made him crack and begin laughing right there.

As Georgie began to approach the bed, Bill had just about finished. One last thing... "Okay, so get the wax."

Georgie shifted his weight to his other foot, his stomach suddenly filled with a funny feeling and his fingers feeling itchy. But not itchy like they needed a scratch- itchy like they needed to move. He just didn't know what to do with them. "In the cellar?" He asked, his disgust and joking gone and his voice a little quieter.

"You want it to f-f-fl... float, don't you?" Bill's stutter would truly be his downfall one of these days. He and everyone else were convinced of this.

"Fine," Georgie sighed, his eyes falling to the ground as he began moving around the bed and toward Bill's bedroom door. On his way out, he grabbed a walkie talkie as Bill wrote "SS Georgie" on the hull of the paper boat, finally finished and waiting for its wax coating.

The smile on the window fades finally, giving way to the rain outside and the warmth inside.

Georgie makes his way through the house, to the cellar door. He passes his mother on the piano, and feels a little comfort from the sick feeling in his stomach at the familiar, safe curve of her face. She has the same look Bill does when he's concentrated on something too. Usually hers only comes out for big tasks or things she wants to do perfectly, since she does almost everything out of habit or years of practice and therefore doesn't need to focus on them too much to do them well. Georgie is thankful for just a second for the family genetic, and then he has moved on and he can no longer see his mother and he takes a silent breath to try and loosen up his body, which has begun to get more tense the closer he gets to the cellar. He wonders why he feels like this. Maybe he's getting sick too...

The door is white, but when Georgie sees it it might as well be covered in blood. It couldn't scare him more if it was, he had already reached peak fear. Or, so it seemed at least. Suddenly the music his mother is playing sounds... haunting, above anything. He realizes the weird feeling must be fear, as it grows and begins to twist his insides into knots. He's silent as he stops just before he can see into the darkness below, staring at the door as he tried to decide if he wanted to gather his courage or just call it a day. But then he thinks about running back into Billy's room, shaken up and refusing to go into the cellar just because- because what? It was dark? No. Bill would tease him his entire life for this one incident, even if he never did it again. Georgie could already hear the, 'Whats the matter Guh-Georgie? Still afraid of monsters in the c-cellar?" Even in Georgie's mind, Bill stuttered as an adult Momentarily he wondered if Bill would ever get over it... and then that distraction helped him take a step. And another. And then again. Suddenly he was slowly but surely clunking his way down the steps of the shadowy cellar steps, his heart racing and his breathing audible now and his eyes fluttered everywhere, never settling anywhere as he tried to take every corner and fold in. Just in case. Georgie can't hear his mother on piano anymore. He pauses, unsure once again. How is he ever going to get to the wax if he takes this long?

As if the thought summoned him, the walkie-talkie goes off, causing Georgie to jump as it made the static sounds of connect before Bill snapped, "Hurry up," on the other end. It wasn't too harsh a command, but Georgie still felt himself curl away from the device he held. But perhaps that was the fear he felt mixing with the sudden unexpected noise and the terrible idea of angering Bill, rather than Bill actually being angry. Bill was rarely angry, if ever. Never around Georgie at least, unless Georgie really pushed his buttons. And when that happened there was no reason to be scared if Bill himself. Just... the thought of even just disappointing him... no. Georgie hated it.

Georgie noticed the room smelled a little strange. Almost sweet, like rotten fruit. He shook his head. His parents would worry about it if it needed worrying about. No reason to get jumpy.

Taking in a breath, he began to move again. Climbing down the stairs until he was all the way down, eyes scanning the shelves much more slowly and more purposefully now. Looking for something specific instead of scanning the unknown for something much worse than the bad feeling that cake after Bill got mad at him.

"Where's the box? Where's the box?" He whispered to himself, filling the silence and reminding himself why he was here.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he froze, eyes slowly rising to the wall in front of him as he finally found the box of wax, but completely forgot why he was looking for it. His mind was far too occupied with the sudden feeling that something terrible was about to happen. That something horrible was watching him. Crouched in the darkness. Not coming closer, but sitting further back, licking its lips and waiting for him to move towards the stairs before jumping out and devouring him. He turned around slowly, stiffly. Immediately his eyes caught two little pin points of what looked like light. Georgie's breathing grew faster. The little lights looked to be eyes. The creature he so feared was looking at him. Stalking him from the darkness. He could imagine hands opening and closing as they itched to reach for him. Shaking, his eyes flew to the side as he looked for- Ah! There it was!

He turned back to the little maybe-eyes as he flicked on the flashlight, revealing- light bulbs. Two little lightbulbs, probably reflecting light from upstairs. He had left the door open after all. Georgie found he could suddenly breathe again and he shook his head, trying to clear it. What a silly thing to get so worked up over. Thunder crashed, echoing, and Georgie was kicked into gear as he full on sprinted to the stairs and up them, never pausing to turn off the light or close the door as he booked it to Bill's room.

Thankfully Bill didn't point out the slightly shaky state of his little brother, who took comfort once again from his mother who he could once again hear in the piano, and the same older brother that might laugh at him for needing comfort at all.

Bill had moved to his desk, the boat on top. He motioned Georgie over and the younger boy came, handing over the can of wax. Bill immediately got to work with a thick paintbrush, not as focused as before. Much more relaxed. Georgie hovered a second before pressing his chest against Bill's back, resting his chin on Bill's shoulder. His brother's warmth and the movement of his body made him feel even better and in just a second he forgot his fear altogether.

"Alright," Bill finished, picking up the boat and handing it over to Georgie, a little smile of pride on his face at his finished work. "Sh-she-she's all ready, Captain."

"She?"

"You always call a b-buh-boat she," Bill explained.

Georgie smiled. "Thanks Billy." And then he opened his arms and hugged Bill. Bill hugged back without thinking, both of them smiling. After a second, Bill's hands shifted so his fingers pressed into Georgie's sides- they wiggled. Georgie giggles softly, squirming away as Bill chuckled along, smiled turning to grins and the room lighting up and warming with the interaction. "See you later!" Georgie called as he jogged through the room with the boat in one hand, his other reaching out to scoop up his rain coat as he passed by it. "Bye!" The small boy was out the door with excitement too soon, and Bill felt... odd. He had forgotten something. Something that was poking and prodding at him. He just had to do something. Something important.

It clicked in his head as he stood up quickly, moving to the window slowly, eyes scanning the rain mess for his younger brother. When he saw Georgie, the child waved enthusiastically, the grin still on his face. Bill wondered how Georgie couldn't feel the sudden nervousness he himself did. Perhaps he was just being weird. "Be careful," he spoke into the walkie-talkie anyway. The boy ignored him and Bill swallowed before quickly adding, "I love you." He didn't know why he did it. What possessed him to. It sounded like such a deeper goodbye, and the feeling of unease grew.

Georgie paused upon hearing his brother. He turned back to the house, raising his own walkie-talkie to reply, "I love you too Billy." And then all too soon once again, Georgie was out of sight and lost in the rain.

Bill turned away from the window, staring intently at his bed before shaking his head and then taking a deep breath, forcing a soft smile before it came more naturally, the bad feeling fading away. It would all be fine.

It was a sunny day, which seemed so very wrong. The sun rays filtered through the curtains that attempted to block it out, warming and brightening the room without permission. The warmth was suffocating, rising anxiety and making the still boy inside feel anxious to move, even though he couldn't quite get the energy to leave his spot on his bed. If only the sub would go away... but no. Even when it rained the sun still shone on Derry. I guess only nighttime could truly conquer the blazing sun.

William Denbrough was crying. No one called him William and when they did it was usually a teacher or parent and he was in trouble, so to say he much preferred his nickname, Bill, was an understatement. Tears traced trails already set in his face from ones that had fallen before. He was on his back, staring at his ceiling with messy hair, in his pajamas. He had only had the ability to kick his blankets off before his mind set and he realized what day it was, causing him to fall into the nearly comatose state he was in now. There was a voice in his head, from a boy he knew what seemed forever ago now. Five years. A smile he missed. A laugh he so wanted to hear. A hug he desperately needed. Things he would never get again from the boy that was long gone from his life.

His door opened slowly, quietly. A flare of red enters the dark room and there stand Beverly Marsh, tall and grinning. She moves to the curtains first, allowing Stanley Uris into the room as well. Stan - this is our Mr. Uris, who, like Bill, goes more often by that name than his full one that's been reserved most often for moments of scolding or professional settings - was smiling just as Beverly was, but the one he wore was much more strained. Forced. As the sun was allowed to come in more, Bill thought to himself that it was Beverly's smile that really light up the room. Not the annoying sun he wanted to disappear on a day the whole world should be mourning.

Beverly moves to his bed, a hand moving to her hip. "Oh come on, Bill, you have school today. No sitting in bed all day." She looked at Stan who was on the other side of the bed. The interaction seemed almost scripted, the positions familiar and broken in. They'd done this exact thing - or something very similar - quite a few times it seemed.

As if Bev's look was a cue, Stan moved forward. "Mike brought one of his warmest sweaters today. It's blue so it'll go really well with your eyes." His smile was a little more natural. Small and soft and warm.

Stan and Bev both moved to either sides of the bed, offering Bill a hand to help him sit up. Bill sighed before taking them, allowing them to pull him to his feet. Bev pulled out a well work t-shirt from Bill's closet, setting it on his bed. Stan set Mike's pullover he'd had tied around his waist until now next to the shirt. He got a pair of shorts and set it on the other side of the jacket. "We'll be in again in a bit." Bev left a little kiss on Bill's cheek and then both of his friends left the room. He was alone.

Bill stared at the clothes laid out for him. He felt small and stupid, requiring this from his friends. He also felt lucky that they were so obliging to do it every year. Usually he was fine, but when this day hit it was impossible to cope. It helped that his parents always went on a vacation or trip without him to distract from the pain they felt. He was allowed to be alone and didn't have to waste energy conjuring up a happiness for their sake. Plus, his friends could just walk in and take care of him without his parents getting on his case about it.

Legging loose another sigh, Bill began to change out of his pajamas and into the outfit left for him. The shirt was familiar and soft. The jacket was a little big on him and it felt like a hug. A little heavier than his own sweaters, and long enough to hide his hands if he pulled his arms in. The outfit was perfect. Comfortable and warm and soft and familiar and a representation of everything he was lucky to have. Friends that had his back. A found family that understood and cared about him, even if no one else did.

He left his room to see Stan and Bev chatting about a book outside of his room. The conversation died as Bev's eyes moved to Bill as he approached them. Her smile was almost as soothing as the sweater and when she put her arm around his shoulders, he couldn't help but relax a little.

The house smelled amazing. The trio moved to the kitchen where Ben and Mike we're making breakfast. Eddie and Richie were bickering about which ice cream flavor was best, getting heated about how Strawberry wasn't anything compared to Chocolate and how Vanilla was a waste of time and Rocky Road was absolutely amazing but not quite as good as dick-

"Beep beep Richie," Bev and Ben said at the same time. They looked at each other, both wearing amused smiles. She winked at him and he was suddenly very interested in breakfast again.

"Stanley the Manley!" Richie cheered. "Tell the Spaghetti boy that vanilla ice cream is NOT a waste of time and that the sweet simplicity let's you add anything you want and that he's just jealous because he could never produce such a sweet necture himself."

"Gross," Eddie groaned.

Stan seemed to consider for a second. "Are we completely ruling out cookie dough ice cream?"

Bill moved further into the room, taking a seat at the table. "Breakfast will be done soon," Ben said as he joined, leaving Mike to finish the rest. Eddie and Bev sat down too. It seemed that Stan had taken Eddie's place in the argument, and it was goikg a lot more insistently now. Before it had been obvious that Richie and Eddie were bickering to fill the silence, but now it almost seemed that Stan and Richie were just going back and forth simply because that's what they always did. They got into dump arguments that lasted hours because Richie had the kind of connections in his brain that took forever to explain, but totally lined up once he did; Stan was just very straightforward and good at debating. Richie was simply stubborn and set in convincing Stan, and Stan was just as stubborn on not being convinced. They finally realized everyone's migration pattern when Mike announced that the food was done and began to move things to the table with Eddie's help. Everyone sat down - Stan and Richie, across from each other, still adding little comments and new thoughts about ice cream flavors they'd forgotten or new points to consider - and began eating.

It was hard to breathe around the food and through the thick atmosphere. The sun shone through the curtains as Bill stared at the sausage and hash browns and eggs and pancakes that all looked and smelled so good. The meal that he otherwise would have inhaled was now scraping against his mouth like sandpaper. He couldn't appreciate it so he ended up just staring at it, wishing he could enjoy it. Wishing he could enjoy anything. Next to him, Ben leaned closer so their shoulders were touching. He pretended he wasn't doing it on purpose, but he wasn't lowkey enough.

Bill's love language was physical touch. Hugs and hand holding and clothes that were comfortable were what comforted him. This show from Ben was a way of comforting without bringing attention to Bill's emotions and thoughts- even if it wasn't necessary since everyone at the table noticed. It was just something none of them ever said out loud. Not today.

At some point Stan and Richie's argument turned to a new topic, and Mike mentioned something about a new book he was reading and Ben picked up the conversation so the two went back and forth. As with the earlier attempts, it was lacking the usual gusto and felt a little awkward and strained. Any silence was suffocating and every pause seemed to stretch eternities. Bev, across from Bill, leaned closer and began to tell him about a bunch of random things. Gossip. The latest fashion and how she didn't like the turn it was taking for some people. New designs she had in mind. Some pieces she wanted to work on. A little while back Bev had picked up a hobby of taking her old clothes and clothes from thrift stores and making them better. More her current style, or "cuter" or more in fashion. Then she'd give it to someone or wear it, changing it again if needed. She was really good at it and it gave her a lot to talk about.

Sometimes Bill thought Bev would be better as an actress than a seamstress. As good as she was with clothes, she was still eternally better when it came to pretending nothing was wrong. While everyone else struggled and Bill didn't even try, her words were easy and her smile was bright and her posture was relaxed. She was casual and made everything seem a little better- just like always. Nothing changed on this day when it came to Bev. It amazed him. Maybe it was that she'd never met Georgie... but neither had Mike or Ben, and they felt the tension too. How did she do it?

Practice.

Now that was a thought he REALLY didn't want to think about.

Her warmth and ease was contagious. As they cleaned up after breakfast and got on their bikes to head to school, there was a sudden relaxation that wasn't there before. Richie rattled off jokes and comments and jabs as usual, and Bev laughed at every single one. She egged him on and cheered everyone up at the same time. She made the sun bearable and the air easier to breathe with her laughter. She pulled smiles from each of them, and for the first time ever no one told Richie to shut up or rolled their eyes or shot comebacks at him or threw a "beep beep" in his direction. They all just smiled and laughed and enjoyed his voice that never left room for the silence that allowed too much time to think and remember. Remember dark tunnels that had a burning, terrible smell that sunk into their skins and never left their clothes. Remember a small boy with a bright smile and messy hair and the best intentions. Remember red hair and glowing yellow eyes, and rows and rows of razor sharp teeth ready to slice into them if they let their guard down for even a single second...

When they got to school, it was business as usual. Locking up their bikes and heading inside. Bill noticed randomly and suddenly that they all held their backpacks differently. Eddie had both hands on the straps of his backpack, while Richie had only one strap on his shoulder. Like Eddie, Stan had both straps on his shoulders but held only one of them in his hand. Bev had a shoulder bag that her hand loosely kept hold of, while Ben wore both of his two straps like Eddie and Stan while he left his hands dangling by his sides. Mike, who wasn't quite used to school yet even though he'd been going to public school for a little while now, had his bag by the loop on the top as he left it slung over his shoulder. He had a strapless bag and hated to keep it at his side because the students around them too often kicked it out of his hands. Bill himself wore only one strap of his backpack like Stan, but kept his hands by his sides like Ben. These similarities and overlapping details somehow eased Bill. He was one to notice small things like this when he was anxious. Perhaps it was his mind that did it. The same mind that wrote stories with the kind of details that painted out a scene in a reader's mind. The same mind that could recollect and recreate images on paper that seemed so realistic only because it had depth and character- hairs out of place, a car going by, a sign in a shop window- and on and so forth.

"Bill?" The boy's head snapped over to Stan, who was looking at him expectantly.

Feeling sheepish, Bill rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, what was that?" He hadn't been paying attention.

Unsure of what exactly had been on Bill's mind, Stan tried not to let his worry show. Sometimes when Bill got too quiet and spaced out too much, his mind went to dangerous places. Especially on days like today. "I was just asking when the last time you got a new jacket was. This one has a hole, and cold season is just around the corner." It was never REALLY cold in Derry, but Stan's sentiment was always there and well meaning.

Bill thought a second, trying to recall when he'd gotten his current jacket, which indeed had a hole and was getting quite worn down. "I think- two Christmases ago?"

Stan glared. "You have to get a new jacket. Immediately. Honestly, what would you do if I wasn't here to remind you?"

This made Bill's heart drop into his stomach and for a second, he remembered.

"Bill!" It was a whiny call and that was probably the biggest reason the older Denbrough even acknowledged it. "It's so late, Billy, why are you still awake?" The boy standing in the doorway was bleary eyed and had messy hair- he had obviously been a sleep until something had woken him up and carried him into the doorway he was in now. Perhaps it was the light from Bill's room.

"I know what time it is-"

"It's midnight."

That surprised Bill. His irritation vanished as his eyes flickered to his clock, which was too far away to catch his eyes unless he looked over at it, like now. That's probably how so much time had passed since he'd last looked at it. It was indeed far too late for him to be awake. He had gotten so caught up in the current art project he was doing that he'd lost track of time. He softened, looking back at his brother. "Thanks, Georgie. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Yeah." The word came out a croak, his throat and mouth suddenly far too dry. "I'd loose my head." He forced a smile but it was too tight. Strained and awkward.

Stan felt sick. Bill had remembered. He had remembered something. Something that had hit him hard and upset him deeply. He only made that expression when he had remembered. "Uh, yeah." Stan blinked, trying to get his mind in order.

"What kind of jacket will you get?" Eddie jumped in helpfully, trying to cover up Stan's blunder and continue distracting Bill.

Bill cocked his head. "There are more than one kind?"

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Of course you'd ask that question. Of COURSE there are! There are different designs and patterns and colors. Come on."

There was a second that Bill considered this. "I don't know which one I'll get. It'l depend on where I go and what's there."

"Get a brown one," Mike chimed in. "The dirtiness doesn't show as much and you don't have to wash it as often. Then it'll last longer." Eddie and Stan both stared at him like he'd just had a ginormous bug crawl out of his mouth. "What?" He asked, unsure what he'd said wrong.

"Or get a blue one!" Bev piped up, not allowing Stan and Eddie to reply to Mike and divert attention from the positive thoughts and feelings. "It'll go with your eyes and make them pop out more. It'll be a great look for you!"

"I mean you guys are only thing one color here," Richie added next, his hands moving to enunciate how into this he was getting. "Get one with ALL the colors." He wore a shit eating, excited grin that almost got Bill to smile.

Shaking his head, Bill rose an eyebrow as he said, "I think the spot for dressing like a clown is already taken by you, Trashmouth."

Richie's smile wiped off his face. Stan jumped in to snag Bill's attention away so he wouldn't be able to think about what he'd just said. "I like Bev's idea with the blue. I think if you went yellow it would work really well for your hair, since you have some blonde highlights. Or maybe a blue and brown. A combination of colors might actually work."

"I have to go," Richie suddenly choked out, his tone suddenly dead and dark and his eyes a little spaced out. "I- I have to get to class."

Bill went to ask what was wrong - because when Richie was upset, it rarely showed, so to have such a drastic change in character was startling - but Eddie spoke up first. "You're right. It's almost time. Let's go." The two boys had first period together so they headed toward it together as well. It was a relief to Richie, who didn't want to be alone as something he'd tried so hard to forget replayed over and over in his head.

A yellow rain jacket clutched in Bill's hands. The same coat moments before on a small boy. A boy that was so different than Richie remembered. A coat that Richie had seen Georgie Denbrough wear and treasure for nearly three years now. It was a hand-me-down from Bill, who'd never worn it but had meant to. He'd just had a growth spurt before he could use it. Before that though, Bill refused to let him touch it. He said it was special from mom and dad, and he didn't want Georgie to mess it up- not even on accident. Bill had complained for weeks after it had been too small and Georgie had gotten it, but Georgie secretly told Richie that he loved it. It was a little too big when he first got it, and that's why he had it so long. Georgie thought the jacket precious.

"It has to be special if Bill was so upset when I would touch it," Georgie explained one day, with that same bright smile and eyes full of light and life and excitement and pride.

That same boy, in the dark room with the floating bodies and the large piles of trash and the terrible smell, wore the yellow jacket that until now hadn't gotten a single speck of dirt on it that Georgie wouldn't furiously clean off. Except the bright yellow was dim and faded and crusted with muck and mud and grossness that made Richie sick. He had wondered at the time how Eddie and Stan were handling the dirtiness, when even a speck of dust usually bothered them.

Georgie, with a tarnished jacket, for the first time ever, didn't smile. His eyes were blank and lifeless. And just a few moments later, Bill would plant a nail between his eyes and the Georgie that so wasn't Georgie wold become taller. His limbs would grow longer. He would become... would become...

Eddie's hand was solid on Richie's shoulder. "Rich?" His gaze focused on Eddie's brown eyes that he found himself let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Eddie. Eddie was here, clean and pristine. The only blemish was the frown that curled his lips the wrong way and the deep concern in his gaze.

"Sorry." Richie cleared his throat and shook his head to clear it. "I was just-"

"Remembering?" It was a grim silence as they both took a break from the forced emotions they had to keep up around Bill. It was Bev and Stan's plan in the beginning, but once they'd done it the first two years it had sort of become unspoken law and now they all did it without thinking about it. Expressing how horrible this day made them all feel was rude to Bill, who had been hurt by all of it the most, arguably. Richie nodded without speaking. "I do it too." Eddie took a breath, mirroring Richie's head shake to push away his own dark thoughts. "This morning, on my way out, I was making lunch and accidentally cut my finger." He held up his ring finger on his right hand, which had a bandaid on it. In the rush and focus that today demanded each year, Richie had missed it before now. "It was small, but bled a little. I was already thinking about today. Preparing. So it was only too easy to think about... about the bathroom. Remember?"

Richie sighed. He remembered it only too well. His brain raced to try and come up with a joke to relieve the tension or bring a smile to Eddie's face again, but for the first time in years, nothing came to mind. "Come on Eds, we really do have class."

"Don't call me that," Eddie spat halfheartedly, his face scrunching up. Richie managed a smile, which then pulled one from Eddie just like Richie's smiles always did.

As they went to class, Eddie tried not to let his face show that he was far too clearly seeing the red room coated in blood that he'd tried so hard not to allow his brain to conjur up this morning when it had all happened. He mostly succeeded, but couldn't get the memory of his friends' faces as they scrubbed and cleaned and tried not t think about what they were scrubbing and cleaning. He tried not to remember how the blood was warm and how it stained the bottom of his shoes and stuck under his nails and how it made him dizzy when he first saw it. How sure he'd been that he was about to pass out.

The bell rang and class started, giving Eddie a diversion. Eddie usually dreaded the sound of that damn bell - especially when it meant that the long day of sitting still and biting his tongue as student and teachers alike annoyed his will to live right out of him. Today, though, he was more relieved to hear it than he was when he washed his clothes and put on a warm, clean shirt that smelled of detergent and warmed his skin and made everything better somehow. Which, honestly, was saying something major.

Mike rubbed his face with both of his hands, squeezing his eyes shut. "I just can't do this," he complained softly to Ben, who was sitting next to him and patting his back in an attempt at easing a burden they all carried. A burden that was dragging them all under and drowning them. How could he help Mike with his weight if Ben couldn't even take care of his own? He couldn't. That wouldn't stop him from trying though. "Pretend that nothing happen everyday, and then go on like THIS everyday time this year. This day is hell for all of us. And I understand why its hardest for Bill, but Georgie's death is a constant reminder of what happened and I just can't stand the holding my breath and walking on eggshells and never letting my guard down all day for a whole day, like-" He cut off, shaking his head.

"You're honest," Ben offered softly. "It makes it hard to look at Bill - one of your closest friends - and lie. I get it."

A heavy sigh came out of the teenage boy. There was a pause, and when Mike next spoke, his tone was dark and heavy and it made Ben stop cold. "What do you most remember about it?"

Frowning, Ben's hand dropped into his lap as he tried not to indulge Mike too much. He had to watch out for his own mental health too. However, the second Mike asked the question, Ben knew the answer. "Red." At first he thought the word hadn't made it out of his mouth all the way, but then he felt the shudder go through his body as the sound of his own voice hit his ears, and he knew he'd done it. "The way It turned into Bill's mom. And the balloon. And, uh, Beverly's hair." He coughed and Mike chuckled dryly, too anxious to laugh but too amused not to acknowledge the blush that never failed to peek out when Ben mentioned the redhead. "I just remember so much red that summer. And then the bloody bathroom..." He shuddered and when his eyes opened again, he saw something else other than the green grass- just for a second.

She was standing there. Her smile was wide as it seemed to make the warm a little more, as per usual. A little more bright. A little more warm. A little MORE- in general. Better and more fulfilling. He saw the light reflecting off of her fiery head as she tilted it back in laughter. Her gorgeous eyes that focused on Bill Denbrough instead of him. She was standing there with that smile and those eyes and her short, wonderfully messy hair looking at someone else.

And suddenly she turned and her eyes found him, but that wasn't part of the memory while he cleaned the bathroom, witnessing a scene he wasn't supposed to be near enough to know was happening. Suddenly it wasn't Bev and Bill, and the hair was a different kind of red. The skin was far too pale and the smile was cruel and twisted. And the eyes... they weren't soft and green and full of life. They were blue. Dead and empty like a sky on a blank day. A day without clouds or birds or any sign of life. A weirdly beautiful blue, that should have been calming but was anything but. Not like Bill's blue eyes. It's blue eyes. Blue eyes that were replaced with glowing yellow lights that stared into his soul as the Thing blinked.

"Ben!" Suddenly his vision was blocked as a slight pressure lay over his eyes. He was somewhat in the present, half consumed by darkness and hot breath and half sitting in a warm day with a slight breeze, one of his closest friends blocking his vision because calling his name hadn't worked well enough. As he came to, it was slowly and with struggle, like he was moving through honey rather than his own mind. He became aware of things slowly. His fast, shallow breathing. His hair that had been pushed out of the way as Mike covered his eyes. His racing heart that was still loud in his ears. His shaking hands. His trembling lip. When he was more calm, Mike stepped away and all Ben could see was a caring, concerned expression and a cloudy but bright sky and green trees and grass and bushes and then the streets and the school. "Are you okay?" Mike flinched as he asked the question.

"Fine." His voice betrayed him. Even in just the one word, it was obvious that he was emotional and upset. He sounded almost winded, and he wondered if he was about to have an anxiety attack or if he'd already had one while he was too stuck in his head to notice. "I'm sorry I can't be of more help, Mike."

Mike shook his head. "We all need help."

"Where would we get it from?" Ben asked after he caught his bearings and got a full grip on himself.

The care on Mike's face deflated in resignation. "That's the thing, isn't it? We can't get it from anywhere." Never had a more hopeless thing been said or heard. The two boys sat in heavy silence. The two boys who were usually soft and bright and warm now sat under a storm cloud that blocked out the sun and any warmth and drenched them in a torrent of emotions that ripped them apart viciously and mercilessly from the inside out. There wasn't a single hint of a smile between them.

When school ended, it was a relief.

The Losers all gathered up, most of them beat down and failing to do their job. Usually once they hit the end of the school day, only two Losers remained standing. An awkward but willing Stanley Uris and a bright, chipper, forever unfazed Beverly Marsh. The others branched off early, touching Bill in some way of comfort before leaving. Eddie elbowed him gently to catch his attention before waving goodbye. Richie ruffled his hair, shoving his head a little to get him to laugh. It almost worked. Ben reached out and tugged on his hand to get his attention before heading his own way far earlier than he'd turn from the group usually. Mike pat Bill on the shoulder before saying he had to head home to help his grandpa with the sheep. And then Mike's face went dark and his eyes glazed over for a second and it was as if Bill and Mike were both seeing the staple gun pointed at a boy that was too small and standing despite fully missing an arm and having been assumed dead. Then Bev was catching his attention and Mike seemed to be running a marathon, in the way he got on his bike and began racing for home like his life depended on it.

Stan and Beverly kept his mind busy all day. The three of them had dinner, with Stan cooking and Bev talking Bill's ear off. Then Bev got him into pajamas and they both lay in bed with him for a little while, until he fell asleep. Bev got up far sooner than Stan did. Stanley lay next to Bill as Bev got dinner cleaned up and everything ready to go. His hand found its way to Bill's nose, brushing the back of it against the bridge of Bill's nose to help him fall asleep more deeply. When they left, they kept up their energy. They were much more at ease now, fed and having fallen into a pattern after the others left. The two had an easy friendship, bonding deeply and closely over experiencing something the others hadn't had the horror of yet.

Because when Beverly and Stanley thought of It, they didn't think of colors or details or smells or small boys- even though Stan knew Georgie. They both thought of one thing and one thing only. Bright lights and a hazy thickness that blocked their vision and clouded their mind, shoving blurry and nonsensical scenes that were supposed to be the future. Scenes that were far too clear for comfort, and yet still were so broken and scattered that they rarely ever made sense. And when they did, they both wished it didn't.

So they didn't think about it all day. They were so good at keeping Bill busy, because they had practice keeping themselves and each other busy. Not just one day a year but every day all day every week of every month- all year long. Usually they handled it perfectly fine, focusing on what was currently happening and not what would or had happened. Focused on this stupid town and their amazing friends and school - even though it was sometimes the worst - and homework and swimming in the Quarry and a Summer full of games and laughter and chasing each other and dunking each other under the water and staying up too late and waking up too early and bird watching and telling jokes and secrets and rolling their eyes and judging people together and even judging each other... less together.

Because when they did focus on It... When they looked back and remembered, it wasn't a memory or a panic attack. It didn't knock the breath out fo them or leave them breathless or weakened or scared or shaky or emotionally vulnerable.

No that would be too kind. When they did think about what happened, it was only at one of their houses and at the end of the day, after the two of them were completely alone and they were having a secret sleepover the others didn't know about. It was only when Stan's parents were asleep and they'd pretend to go to bed. And then like clockwork, without even looking at the clock, midnight would hit and the day would be over and their unspoken vow to keep it together all day for their friends and family would crumble and simultaneously, the unbreakable Beverly and sturdy Stan would shatter and crack and explode. They would sob, shaking violently and clinging to each other. They would gasp and close their eyes tight. They wouldn't just cry- they would completely loose it. Thankfully they were both quiet criers, but that didn't change the violence of their mutual shut down. They would let all their barriers down and let loose all the emotions they'd been holding in all day. All year. And suddenly they weren't two kids who had been through a similar experience. They were one person, agonizing over a same pain only they could understand. And for a night, that was okay. It could just be the two of them and no one else and they could feel this pain.

How else were they supposed to deal with the memory of the Deadlights when none of their friends could handle their own trauma, let alone Stan and Bev's horrors?

No.

Bill sat awake and listened to the silence in a house that pretended like Georgie never existed, his parents on vacation because they refused to be in town or anywhere near anything that reminded them of the son they never stopped grieving- including the son they still had.

Mike fell asleep but woke often to nightmares after having to use the nail gun again- just as he'd dreaded. The action alone dug up so many memories that between those and the whole day combined, he couldn't handle it... Sleep was still important, though. They had school tomorrow after all.

Eddie spent the night half asleep. Sort of conscious and aware; drifting in and out; sort of noticing the world and sort of resting. His dreams were all foggy and empty and he was unable to collect a coherent thought or make sense of the blobs and nothings that every once in a while popped out at him when he was a little more sleep than awake.

Ben slept like a rock, still and locked down to the bed despite the occasional twitch. So very unlike how he actually slept, where he was usually pulling blankets and pillows close to his chest and burying his face in something soft or warm or familiar, now he lay still, on his back, with nothing near or even touching him. At least he slept.

Richie didn't even bother getting into bed. He sat on his window sill, his window open and his legs hanging out to dangle against the side of his house. He leaned against his banister and watched the stars and moon and hummed random, terrible sounding tunes under his breath and let the stress of the day melt away.

Bev and Stan held each other and cried until they passed out. Bev was out first, Stan using the same trick on her that he did on Bill. Gently caressing the bridge of the nose always worked. No matter how old the person was or how often they had it done to them, it always worked. He fell asleep with a heavy heart and an enthusiasm for what the next day would bring.

It was fine. It was all fine...

It had to be.

Tag List: @kaspbrak-king @feelinsorad @yeahnorightsure @reddie-steddie-go @slyyytherin @richietoaster @toziersspaghettihead @disgustedchild @johnmulaneyslovebot @fawndestmemories @smeegamae @cheekaspbrak @chipoisaloser @epicpenguin145 @reddie-to-cry @eddiesaspirator @richiebeepbeep @beepbeepwheeler @fem-mark-cohen @that-weird-girls-blog @spoonful-of-poison @mxyfields @fics-causeineedit @cringy-kid-online-sorry @elfdemeanor

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lancetuckershairgel · 4 years

Text

Summary: Chris and Lucy are reunited.

Words: 1,977

Warnings: Stealing, language, emotions, slight mention of former drug use

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Tag List: @book-dragon-13 @jobean12-blog @marvelgirl7 @southernbell91 @buckysforeverprincess @anxiousamandapanda @buckysteveloki-me @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety

AN: Cant do a read more. Also it was brought to my attention that several people didnt get notifications for Chaoter Four that was posted early last week so if you get the notification on this one let me know.

Chris climbed into his truck with a groan, his back stiff and head mildly aching. He rested his head back against the headrest of his seat and closed his eyes, no longer having to rush anywhere. The day had been long and he thanked God that it was Friday. Chris had taught three safety courses to the different fifth grade classes and had two meetings with disgruntled parents about a bullying situation and then he went straight to the college after work. School greeted him with an essay presentation, which he hated, and two exams that he really should have prepared better for.

Chris rubbed his weary eyes and ran his hand over his beard before finally sitting straight and turning on the ignition. The red Ford came to life with a grumble and he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway. Normally he would have gone straight home after class, especially with how tired he was, but not only was it a Friday night it was also a three day weekend and he was looking forward to an extended weekend and day off.

"You can't take care of others if you others take care of yourself." Chris' psychology professor would say at the end of every lecture.

"You need a break Chris, you always put too much on yourself." Erin often told him during one of their phone conversations or occasional meet ups at the bar.

"Yolo."

Chris never quite understood that one but the teens at the middle school seemed to use it as a personal mantra. After driving for a few miles he took a right and pulled into a gas station lot and parked. Reed's Gas Mart had been around for a long time. One of the oldest businesses in town, owned by a simple old man, had been around since 1958. The place had quite the reputation built around it. From the late fifties to the early eighties it was a place all the kids came to for an after school milkshake and a handful of candy and to listen to Jerry tale his stories. Unfortunately times changed and things became less simple. Teenagers still frequented the store but not for the shakes. Early in Chris' career as a police officer he'd made a few drug busts in the parking lot but well before that he himself had done a few things he wasn't proud of out back behind the dumpsters. Old man Jerry had caught Chris and a few buddies of his with a crack pipe once and chased them off with a broom, giving Chris a few good whacks across the back of the head all the while hollering about telling his mother. All had been forgiven though and Jerry was a good man, hard worker, and he wasn't going to let a few punk kids ruin his business. Chris gave a slight smile at the memories and entered the store, the ding of the bell overhead indicating that he had arrived.

"Hey Jerry." Chris greeted the hunched over, white haired man

"Hey Chris."

Jerry's reply was short and he didn't look up at the off duty officer. His eyes were focused across the room, narrowed toward the candy aisle.

"I got one. Just stuffed a chocolate bar in the back of 'er pants."

Chris rolled his eyes. Jerry used to love having kids come into his store, he'd even given Chris and his siblings free ice cream cones on the really hot summer cones when they were younger, but over time as Jerry aged and more and more people used his store as their personal sinning grounds the less excited the man became to see a youngster enter his store. He was always suspicious of anyone under the age of twenty five, convinced they were all up to no good.

"I'll keep an eye out." Chris chuckled lightly as he walked over to a rack of snacks.

Chris grabbed a bag of beef jerky and peered across the shelves at the suspected thief. To his dismay he indeed witnessed a crime. What was even more disheart was the fact that he recognized the beg being used to stuff merchandise inside. Blue, faded, torn. Rainbow pin and sharpie "artwork". Even with her hood pulled tight over her head, a classic move to avoid facial recognition on the security tapes, Chris knew that it was Lucy. He watched for a few seconds as she grabbed another item and quickly shoved it into her bag.

"Come on kid, what are you doing?" Chris thought to himself

Lucy made her way to the back of the store, near the personal care items and Chris ducked down and watched through the large circular mirror on the wall as she stuffed another box into her backpack. He sighed and made his way to the counter.

"You're right." Chris ssigh to Jerry with a sigh

"Goddamn kids." Jerry muttered under his breath

"Let me handle it, alright?"

"Fine but I want her out of here and if I catch her anywhere near my store I'll give her the whooping she deserves, you hear me Christopher?" Jerry wagged his crooked finger in Chris' face

"You'll do no such thing old man." Chris rolled his eyes "Put that thing away and go back to watching the game. I'll take care of this."

Lucy's head was down low as she quickly grabbed the items she had came for. Headphones were plugged into her ears and heavy metal played loudly to calm her nerves. her heart pounded in her chest as she rounded the corner to make her exit and she froze in her tracks.

"Shit." She muttered when she saw Chris standing at the counter staring at her with disappointment, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Hey Luce." Chris finally said after a prolonged stare down

Chris could easily read body language thanks to his training in the academy. He knew how to spot suspicious behavior or signs of an abuse victim and he learned to read people by how their left eye twitched or how they shifted from foot to foot. Lucy may have looked defiant, shoulders back and head high, eyes glaring death rays in a dare to interfere with her mission but Chris could see behind that. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bookbag until her knuckles were white. Her bottom lip quivered slightly. Her pupils were wide and pleading. Lucy was scared.

"Whatcha got there?" Chris took a step forward and relaxed his arms as he gestured toward her bag

"None of your business." Lucy snarled as she stared down Chris

"Come on, hand it over." Chris sighed. He Judy wanted to go home, get a nice buzz off a few beers, watch Game of Thrones, and go to bed.

Lucy mentally walked herself through her options. Would she be able to get out the back door before Chris caught her? What if he called backup and her name ended up on a wanted list and cops showed up at the school?

"I'm fucked." Lucy said to herself and decided to comply. Maybe Chris would go easy on her.

Slowly she handed over the incriminating bag and Chris took it. He eyed Lucy disapprovingly as he looked inside and her face blushed furiously with humiliation and anger as piece after piece of the stolen merchandise was pulled out and placed on the counter. A box of tampons, a box of bandaids, a few cans of soup, a roll of half used toilet paper, and a bottle of equally used hand soap lined the counter. Chris furrowed his brow as studied the items.

"And the candy bar Missy." Jerry gruffed out with a glare

Chris glanced at Lucy and she hesitated. The chocolate was the one thing she was really hoping to get out with. Chris held out his hand impatiently and Lucy reached behind her back and pulled the Hershey bar out of her pocket. She slammed it into Chris' palm with such force that the pieces broke apart. With a sigh Chris put it on the counter with the other items.

"What do you have to say for yourself girl? Stealing from a hardworking old man, none of you have any respect for your elders anymore! Need a good ass whoopin is what you need. Even stole from the bathroom." Jerry ranted and Lucy visibly cringed

"That's enough, Mr Reed." Chris interrupted

"I want her dealt with Christopher. Arrest her."

Lucy tensed and Chris held up his hand

"Just wait a minute Jerry. Look at what she's got here. This looks like necessary stuff, doesn't it? Luce? Is everything okay at home?"

"That's not your business." Lucy held back the tears, letting anger overcome the sadness

"Is your dad not buying things you need?"

"Stay out of it!" Lucy hissed through her teeth, shaking

"I can't help if you don't talk to me, kiddo." Chris tried "Lucy I ca-"

"You're not in charge anymore. You don't work for my school because you left." Lucy spit the word out like it left a bad taste in her mouth and she stepped closer to Chris "You're not even on duty, you can't do shit. What are you even wearing?"

Chris looked down at his red plaid button up shirt and frowned.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing" Chris asked, slightly offended

The realization that Lucy had never seen him without of his uniform came too late. Lucy had snatched the Hershey bar and bolted, the door slamming shut behind her.

"Lucy!" Chris shouted but there was no use. The girl was gone. Chris groaned and buried his face in his hands as he leaned against the counter.

"She left the property. I'm calling the police." Jerry stated as he picked up the landline phone

"For christ sake old man it's a candy bar. Puts you back what? A buck twenty five?" Chris took the phone and put it back on the receiver and slammed a couple dollars on the counter "In fact…"

He walked back to the cooler to grab his sought after beer then grabbed a proper back of bathroom tissue and a bottle of soap.

"How much for all of it?"

Jerry shook his head but began to ring up the groceries.

"You keep coddling these kids, Christopher, and none of them will learn their lesson. It'll be $48.62. "

"No wonder people steal from you." Chris jokes as he ran his credit card through the machine. He knew Jerry couldn't control the inflation and prices of goods these days. The old man swatted at him but did crack a toothless grin.

Chris bid farewell to Jerry and took the bags out to his truck. He placed them in the front seat and drove off, keeping an eye out for Lucy the whole way home. He had no idea where she lived and with it being a holiday weekend it'd be Tuesday before he could get Erin to get her address out of the file.

"Hang in there kid." Chris muttered as he parked the truck in his driveway.

Lucy ran until her lungs burned. Tears streamed down her face and she collapsed to her knees, sobbing. She shouldn't have to steal to provide for her family. She cursed herself for not telling Chris what was going on but she couldn't. He wouldn't help her, he'd just call the social services and they'd ruin everything. She caught her breath and wiped her eyes angrily before standing up and brushing the dirt off her jeans, cursing herself again for getting them dirty knowing it'd be a few days before she could wash them. She clutched the broken candy bar and made her way back home not ready to face the fact that she was going to turn up empty handed.

#destroyer!chris #sebastian stan #fan fiction #fanfic #safe haven

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