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theladyofdeath · 3 years

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Life As We Know It {Chapter 6}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelb’s blogs! >> @snelbz

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

The week had passed by in a blur and by the time Saturday came, all Nesta wanted to do was sleep in.

But she couldn’t.

Sleeping in wasn’t possible anymore.

Her alarm had been set for seven, but she woke up with the sun peeking through her curtains at 6:45. She looked at the baby monitor on the nightstand. Nyx was still sound asleep in his crib.

With a groan, she covered her head with her pillow and tried to shut out the light, but it was no use.

She was wide awake.

May as well enjoy a cup of coffee before Nyx wakes up. Nesta tossed her legs over the side of the bed and tossed her robe over her pajama shorts and tank top. After pulling her long, golden-brown hair back, she was tiptoeing through the hall and down the stairs.

Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she could hear noise coming from the kitchen.

The sizzling of bacon being dropped into a skillet.

She had expected it to be Cassian, of course, but what she wasn’t expecting was what he was wearing.

Or, she supposed, what he wasn’t wearing.

She wasn’t sure if she should go back upstairs, to give him privacy. But he was the one who had chosen to come downstairs like this, in one of the common areas of the house, so Nesta went ahead and walked into the kitchen. She aimed straight for the coffee pot, grateful to see a fresh pot already in the carafe. “Good morning.”

He turned towards her, that broad, muscular chest on full display, thanks to the white towel wrapped around his hips being the only thing he had on. “Morning, Nes. Hope you want breakfast.”

She continued to make her coffee, which was usually easy, considering it was one spoonful of sugar in black coffee, but she was having a distinctly hard time focusing on what she was doing.

She had seen Cassian without a shirt in before, at the few times they’d both been over to swim in Feyre and Rhysand’s pool, but there was something distinctly different about seeing him wearing a pair of swimming trunks and that towel. That towel that was sitting so low on his hips, she knew there could be nothing underneath it.

He didn’t even seem to notice, didn’t even seem to think about her reaction to him standing nearly nude in the kitchen, making breakfast. His hair was still wet, although the ends seemed to be drying.

She wondered if this is what he looked like in a towel, what he would look like in the shower.

She quickly shook the thought away, even though it couldn’t help but linger in the back of her mind.

“I’ve got eggs, bacon, and toast,” he said, his back to her. She watched his muscles expand as he moved pans around and turned off the burners. “Simple, but it’ll fill you up. We’ll need all the energy we can this morning.”

Nesta cleared her throat and gave him a nod as he turned to face her. It was true, and Nesta was unexcited about it. The two of them would spend their day trying to find a part-time nanny for Nyx for the days that the two of them were both at work at the same time.

They’d had plenty of applicants, some of whom seemed promising.

Nesta had her fingers crossed.

A plate was set down in front of Nesta, and for a moment, all she could do was stare at it. There was a smiley face made out of a bacon mouth and egg-eyes. Another plate was set in the middle of the table, piled high with toast and jam.

“What am I, two?” she asked, gesturing to the breakfast face in front of her.

Cassian chuckled. His plate was piled high with bacon and eggs. No room for faces. He sat across from her and leaned on the table with his elbows. “A little smiley face never hurt anybody.”

She said nothing, just picked up her fork and cut into the eggs. She hadn’t even told him she liked her eggs over-medium, but she was glad she did as the semi-runny yolk spilled out onto her plate. Nesta thought about starting something about it, about asking about food preferences before he assumed something, but it was too early and she hadn’t gotten to enjoy nearly enough of her cup of coffee. It was too early to fight. So instead she picked up a crispy piece of bacon and used it to pick up some of the egg, before popping it into her mouth.

Her eyes slipped closed and she tried not to moan.

How could a simple breakfast taste so damn good?

When she opened her eyes again, she assumed she hadn’t been completely successful in stopping her appreciative noises, because he was smirking at her as he brought his own coffee to his lips.

“Told you I make a mean breakfast,” he said, reaching for a piece of toast and slathering it in blackberry jam.

Clearing her throat, she ignored him and continued eating until her plate was completely empty. Just as she was about to get up to rinse it off, he stood, adjusting that damn towel to fit more snuggly around his hips, and picked up both of their plates. She tried her best not to watch the muscles shift in his back as he rinsed the plates and loaded them into the dishwasher. Tried her best, but found herself staring as she sipped from her coffee cup, but snapped herself out of it and got up as well, making Nyx a bottle for when he woke up.

As she shook the formula up, she asked, “Will you be putting clothes on before the applicants get here, or should I warn them this is going to be a clothes-optional interview?”

He glanced at her over a shoulder, as he began to clean the pan he’d cooked the bacon and eggs in, but turned right back to the sink. “Does my nakedness bother you, Nes?”

Damn him, she could hear the smirk in his voice.

“No,” she snapped. “And stop calling me that.”

“So, you like me in a towel, then?” he went on, turning the sink off as he put the final plate in the drain rack.

“You’re exhausting, you know that?” she asked, turning to face him full on.

He turned to her then, one brow raised as he ran a hand through his nearly-dried hair. “I’m just saying, if it bothers you, I’ll be sure to dress before I come down to slave away for you over the stove. But, if it doesn’t bother you, I have to admit that I like to completely dry before I put on clothes.”

No, it didn’t bother her.

No, she didn’t mind having her breakfast with a view.

No, she wouldn’t mind reaching out and feeling just how hard and defined his abs really were.

No, she would never admit to that.

Instead, she raised her chin and said, “I should wake Nyx up so he’s ready before the first applicant arrives.”

“So formal,” he grinned. “And here I thought we were having a nice, pleasant morning.”

A soft cry came from upstairs and she was immediately in motion, all thoughts of those abs and whether or not water from his shower would well in the defined divots of them gone. Snatching up the bottle she’d set on the counter, she turned and headed for the living room and the stairs beyond. “Put some clothes on,” was all

she called back to him as she hurried for Nyx’s nursery.

Nesta shut the front door, falling back against the wood, listening as the final interview made her way down the cobblestone walkway.

She sighed and made her way into the kitchen. She needed a glass of wine.

A bottle of wine was more like it, but a glass would do for now.

She found Cassian already standing behind a chair at the kitchen table, the resumes of each applicant spread out before him. “So,” she said, reaching into the fridge for the bottle of chilled, white wine. “What did you think?”

He blew out an equally exhausted breath, before shaking his head. “There was…a lot of variety.”

He was right. There was a woman who had to be in her seventies, who had brought an entire notebook of lesson plans, with her goal to have the one-year-old fluent in French before his third birthday. Then there was the thirteen-year-old who had lied about her age on the application, but promised she could ride her bike the mile and a half from her house every day they needed her. Just not until after three on school days.

“Too much variety,” she agreed. “That last woman was so boring she literally put Nyx to sleep.”

It was true. Nyx was currently sound asleep in the middle of his playmat in the living room, surrounded by his toys.

“I didn’t mind the retired librarian,” Nesta said, filling her wine glass to the brim.

Cassian scrunched his nose. “She smelled weird.”

Nesta scoffed. “I don’t think Nyx will be minding her smell. She was smart and was obviously good with him.”

“So was Viviane,” Cassian said, picking up an application off the table.

Nesta blinked. “Viviane?”

“Yeah, Viviane,” he said, showing her the application. “Smart. Bachelors in early childhood education. Lives three miles down the road.”

“Young, blonde, hot,” Nesta added, taking a drink.

Cassian raised an eyebrow. “So you do remember her.”

“I remember that she didn’t have near enough experience and she only listed one reference,” Nesta replied, taking the application and resume from him. She looked it over again. “She can’t be more than twenty-two years old.”

“What does her age have to do with it?” He asked, leaning down on the chair and looking at her. “She’s got good qualifications and Nyx loved her. She was one of the few he actually laughed and wanted to play with.”

It was true, he’d been extremely uncomfortable around most of the applicants. He cried the second a couple of them looked at him and had even spit up on one of them. But he had giggled with Viviane and genuinely seemed to like her.

“She hasn’t worked at a legit daycare or anything, but she’s been a one-on-one nanny before,” Cassian pointed out, as Nesta was reading the same thing on her copy of the resume. “And she said she could get us the numbers of her previous families. She just didn’t want to give them out without asking permission.” He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “Sounds like she’d respect our privacy, too. But go ahead, keep thinking of reasons she’s not a good candidate.”

Aside from her perky tits and ass, I can’t think of any. The words almost came from her lips, but Nesta ground her teeth.

“We have to agree on someone, and Viviane can start immediately,” Cassian continued.

Nesta stared at him for a moment.

He stared back, watching as she sipped from her glass. “I swear to the Mother, Cassian, if you fuck the nanny-.”

Cassian barked an unamused laugh. “You think I have absolutely no self control, don’t you?”

“I think you’re basing this choice off of what you want, not what Nyx needs,” she said, not breaking their eye contact.

“She may be hot, but fucking her would be a lot more trouble than it’s worth,” he admitted. “And Nyx is half Rhys. Don’t forget that. He liked to appreciate pretty things just as much as I do, and I’m sure Nyx will, too.”

Scoffing, Nesta set her glass down and went into the living room to get Nyx. “He’s a baby, not a grown man, with raging hormones. You’re disgusting.” She picked him up, still fast asleep from hearing about the nuances of the differences in a sitter and nanny from the old crone they’d spoken with last. “Call Viviane, let her know she starts tomorrow at eight.”

Cassian met her on the stairs. “I don’t work tomorrow, I can watch him.”

Nesta shrugged, but continued up, carrying a drooling Nyx to his nursery. She hadn’t noticed how close to his nap time it had gotten. “Think of it as an exercise in self-control then, and a test run. See how she does with Nyx and see if you can keep your dick to yourself.”

“I’ve kept it from you pretty easily, haven’t I?”

Nesta refrained from responding as she carried Nyx into the nursery and laid him down, cracking the door open behind her as she left. Walking back downstairs, she retrieved her wine, purposefully ignoring him, though she felt his eyes on her the whole time. She wouldn’t answer his question, was doing her best not to think about it, especially compounded with memories of him this morning.

She had no idea the muscles leading down by the hips could really be so defined. She thought the illustrious V that dragged your eye downwards on most male models was photoshopped in. Cassian, though, very much proved it not only existed, but that it was as distracting as she’d imagined it could be.

“I’m taking a bath,” she announced, heading back for the stairs. “Let Viviane know she got the job, but she can start whenever you want. If you’ll be off tomorrow, we don’t need to pay her to be here.”

She didn’t wait for his reply, and was in her room with the door shut a few seconds later. She took her time filling the bathtub with the things she found under the counter. There were oils and salts and bubbles and soaps, and by the time Nesta settled into the bubbly, warm water, the entire bathroom smelled like a spa. She sipped her wine, refusing to let her mind wander back to Cassian that morning, but by the time her glass was empty, her head was swimming and the water had begun to go cold.

She got out of the tub, watching as the water swirled down the drain and began toweling off.

And then, she had an idea, to give Cassian a taste of his own medicine.

She grabbed a clean, fluffy, white towel and wrapped it around her chest. And then she headed down to the kitchen for a refill.

Cassian was lying on the couch, one arm tossed behind his head, the other using the remote to flip through the stations on the TV.

He caught Nesta the moment her feet appeared at the top of the stairs.

Nesta’s heartbeat a little bit faster with every step she took.

“This is a new look for you,” Cassian said, simply, even though his voice had lowered an octave since the last conversation they had. “Especially considering you took the master bedroom so that you had your own private bathroom to avoid such run-ins with me.”

Nesta tossed her long, wet hair over her shoulder. “I figured it was okay since you’ve made it perfectly clear that you have no desire to crawl into bed with me. I deemed it safe territory.”

The glass still dangled between her fingers and she heard the couch creak as she turned the corner into the kitchen. She may have grabbed a towel that wasn’t quite as wide as the rest of them, one that didn’t quite come as far down her thighs. But if he wanted to prance around in nothing but his skin, she could do the same.

They were both adults. She had no interest in sleeping with him - so she told herself, at least - and he’d said he had no interest in her.

She poured what was left of the bottle in her glass and threw it into the trash with a clunk. She hadn’t realized she had so little left, but was fairly sure another bottle was in the wine cabinet.

Which was in the living room.

When she re-entered the living room, the volume on the TV was nearly silent and Cassian was sitting up, rather than laying down. One arm was draped across the back of the couch and the other still clutched the remote.

She could feel his eyes on her and she took another drink before reaching around the back of the cabinet for the key and unlocking it.

Not only did she grab another bottle of her favorite wine, but also a good bottle of whiskey, too.

“Planning on getting wasted?” He asked, quietly.

“Just stocking up,” she replied, locking the cabinet behind her. “Care for a glass?”

Cassian looked around the room, as if she would be talking to anyone else other than her. “Sure.”

“Whiskey, I assume?” she asked, going back into the kitchen for another glass.

The television was a little bit louder when she returned, but not by much.

She sat on the opposite end of the couch, and set the glasses on the coffee table in front of them. After retrieving the glass bottles, she poured.

Cassian remained perfectly quiet as she did so.

“Is this a truce?” he asked, as Nesta held the glass out toward him.

“This is a celebratory drink to commemorate finding a nanny today,” Nesta said, although her voice held no warmth. “No matter how young and inexperienced and doomed-to-fail she is.”

She held up her wine glass.

Cassian snorted as he clinked his glass against hers.

She wasn’t paying any attention to whatever he had playing on the TV, and she had a feeling he didn’t either, not as she could feel his stare burning into her. Enough so that she crossed her legs, unintentionally causing the towel to raise even higher attention on the outside of her thigh. It almost exposed her entire hip, which she wasn’t anticipating, but she had made the decision to come down here, to tease him by showing him what he had done to her. She wouldn’t let him see how much his gaze was affecting her.

Even if it was just the wine.

Or so she told herself.

She was just about to stand, to make some excuse for going upstairs when he set his glass down on the coffee table and cleared his throat.

“New house rule. Clothes are required in the common areas. Kitchen, living room, dining room,” he said, ticking them off one by one. “Bedrooms and bathrooms are the only places where this is allowed.”

He gestured towards her, without looking, to make sure his point was understood.

“Why?” She asked innocently, and then she threw his own words back into his face. “Does my nakedness bother you, Cass?”

“Quite the opposite,” he admitted, adjusting himself.

Nesta pretended she didn’t notice.

“I thought you had no issue keeping yourself in check with me,” Nesta said, her voice low. “I thought you weren’t some untamed male with raging hormones.”

“I’m not,” he said, reaching to refill his glass. “At least, not until a beautiful woman is sitting a foot away from me, soaked, in a towel, pouring me whiskey.”

“I’m not soaked,” she said, without thinking it through. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

When Cassian looked at her, he grinned, but his eyes were dark. “I meant your hair.”

Nesta knew her plan had immediately backfired, either that or she’d had far too much to drink, so she simply nodded and stood heading back for the staircase.

“Nes?”

She turned back to look at him, halfway up the staircase.

He was smirking, that glass of whiskey resting on the arm of the couch. “If you ever do find yourself soaked, you know where to find me.”

She was up the stairs and slamming her door in a flash, trying to ignore his quiet laughter.

#nessian #LAWKI #collab #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #nesta #cassian #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #modern au #movie au

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parsnipspages · 3 years

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I heard requests were open! So I was wondering if you could do headcanons of the bros reacting to a MC who has Nyctophobia? (The Fear Of The Dark)

Time to get teased by the bros! Long post I got into it. as always, if you want the undatables, feel free to send another request!

Lucifer You left the lamp on every night, after a few months in the devildom Lucifer had assumed that this was a mistake. Passing out while reading or working on homework. Responsible. Today he had been helping you with your homework late into the night. As he went to leave he turned his attention to the lamp. “You shouldn’t leave this on all the time, It wastes energy.” His hand was reaching for the pull chain as you spoke up to stop him. Lucifer glanced back at you sitting on the edge of your bed with panic in your eye, “What?” He chuckled as he pulled the chain and walked back over to you, sitting on the edge of the bed. He smirked as you clung to his arm. “Really now, what do you have to fear with me here?” He slowly coaxed you into your covered and stayed with you, letting you hold his hand until you passed out. He would help you get past this, you deserved to be the best you could be. Mammon His room was never truly darkened in all honesty. Always watching a movie or playing a game on his projector. The dim rim lighting around the bottom of his bed and along the walls in his closet. Tonight though, he had a headache. Another day another failed get rich quick scheme down the drain. The demon didn’t give it a second thought as he turned off all the lights as he sunk into bed with you on the couch. It wasn’t atypical for you two, but what he wasn’t expecting was the tingle of fear that ran through his mind from your pact. “Human you alright?” Sliding out of his bed he found his way to the couch and putting a hand on your shoulder, “Yer all tense, somethin’ scare ya? I told ya ya shouldn’t watch those damn horror films with Levi, things would leave anyone shaking.” He frowned as he heard you take a deep breath before replying, “That’s not the problem Mammon... I just don’t like the dark ok....” Your voice was small, did you know how much that absolutely killed him? That’s just not fair to get to him like that. You hear his warm laugh as he grabs you off the couch, the dark hiding his flushed face and neck, “Good for you, ya got the Great Mammon to keep ya safe! Ya better appreciate it!” He dropped you onto his bed, and neither of you said anything as he turned the rim lights back on before sliding into bed. He never did turn them off again. Leviathan It took the power going out for Leviathan to find out about your little secret. His room was literally never dark between his all night gaming and his massive aquarium. With the power out though, the only thing greeting you as you woke was the soft sound of the water lapping up against the glass. He woke to your voice cutting through the darkness as he climbed out of his tub and went towards the pile of blankets and pillows he had made for you next to the tank. He could feel your fear in his mind, a tingle to remind him of your closeness. He grabbed his DDD out of his pocket and unlocked it, turning on the flashlight as he sat next to you. Part of him wanted to offer you a hug, the rest was terrified of the idea. You made the choice for him as you wrapped your arms around his middle. "H-Hey! Who said you could just do that!" The sadness in your eye as he reached to move your arms froze him. "ugh, Fine ok whatever this is fine." The darkness was a little easier to ignore if you focused on the dark flush covering his face. Satan His room was rarely fully darkened, between his reading light and the large window facing the nighttime moon there was always at least a soft glow to his room. Tonight there was cloud cover though, and he was too tired to read. You had been in his room shoved between a couple of piles of books, your own in your hands. He directed his attention to you as he draped his coat over the back of his chair. "I think it's time for bed don't you?" You finished the sentence you were reading before looking up at him as he reached for his pajamas laying on his bed. You looked past him though, as the storm outside had finally covered the moon. Slipping in a book mark you close your book and set it on his desk as you went to walk past him to the

door. "I think I'll just stay in my room Satan, thank you for having me thou"- He sticks his arm out before you make it that far, "You can stay you know, I don't mind." He had a hunch what was wrong, having tested this a few times. Dimming his reading light to nearly off with you around and you, slinking closer as he did so, fleeing the dark corners. He wasn't going to pry tonight though, he just wanted your company this time. "We can leave the reading lamp on the desk on if you would like. No need for you to trip in the middle of the night and knock over my books." His smile was hard to ignore. Asmodeus You had gone to Asmo to relax, taking his offer to do your nails and give you a personal spa day after midterms. He ran his hands through your hair carefully as he worked in the perfect product as he chatted about the latest devilgram drama. He kept the lights low in his room, mostly to not stress his own eyes. Partially to have a nice fill light for his selfies. Before long you were drowzy putty in his hands.

"Oh Darling you really should sleep more, your poor skin is so splotchy right now." You hummed as he finished his last task on you as he grabbed a set of spare pajamas from his closet and told you to put them on as he got his bed ready. Pouting a bit as you closed the door to his bathroom to do so. When you return, the lights are nearly off. Just bright enough to see the edges of the furnature in his room, and just enough to see him raise his arm from the blankets and pat the matress next to him. He was confused for a moment as you hesitated in the doorway clinging to the light of the bathroom. Asmo stood wordlessly, grabbing your shoulders and leading you to the bed. He turned up the lights a bit for you, grabbing his own face mask from the nightstand. He could work with this Beelzebub It wasn't in his room when he found out. Not even in the house of lamentation actually. He had taken you to a local bakery to replace some doughnuts he had eaten of yours that morning, and by the time you were done there it had gotten darker out. Clouds rolling in and covering the Devildoms ever present moon and stars. You clung to his sleeve as you walked and honestly he paid it no mind. He liked when you were close to him. If you were close you were safe. If you were close he could enjoy your presence. If you were close he couldn't lose you. So when he walked away from the street lights to take a quick shortcut to he house, he had to take notice to you getting even closer. Beel stopped, looking at you as he did. The shudder that passed over you as you looked into the darkened park he had wanted to walk through, frowning at you. "Do you want to stay on the main road? There are more lights there." You nod with enthusiasm as he turns back to the well walked path. "Okay." At least there wasn't a worry for his room, the headboard glowing in the night. The rest of the walk was him going through the house in his head, planning how to light the areas you liked the most. Belphegor Finding out about your phobia, belphie did it by mistake. He had passed out with you in the attic watching a movie. With the credits finished rolling the screen sat dark on the other side of the room as you tried to wiggle out of his arms to reach your phone, the light switch. Anything really. You were nearly in a panic by the time he woke up releasing you and you nearly ran to the light switch. His chuckle behind you as you went. Once the light was on you were giving him a dark glare. He raised his arms weakly in surrender as you scooped a pillow off the ground and hurled it at him. Belphie curled around it as you walked back to the bed with him, smirking at you as you did. "Silly human you are huh. Scared of the dark more than the demons in the house. Priorities." He let you push him down to the bed as you started giving him shit for making fun of you. That was fine though, you got to focus on him instead of your lingering fear.

#Anonymous #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me self insert #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me leviathan

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ruzek-halstead · 3 years

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meet me in the afterglow: first date

request from @felicitysmoaksx: i would like to see a continuation of the “i’m so stressed out during finals that i show up to the exam in my onesie and you tell me i look cute” university au. maybe like their first date?

read the original fic here

Luke and Julie ended up at a 24-hour diner a few minutes off campus. There was a light wind blowing through Julie's curls, and she was glad her onesie was so warm and fuzzy. Luke seemed perfectly at ease in his sleeve tank, but then again, she could feel his warm skin every time her wrist knocked against his arm. Her hand was still loosely clasped in his. She expected it to be slightly awkward; she had just met Luke and this was unlike anything she had ever done before. In her past four years of studies, she didn't have much time for a social life, much less a boyfriend. But there was no way she could've turned down his invite after the entirety of the situation.

When they reached the exterior of the diner, Julie spotted various empty booths. There were a few students who were quite obviously studying, what with their textbooks and highlighters strewn around the table, but it was generally quite empty. Even though it was relatively empty, Julie was still hit with a wave of anxiety with being seen in this onesie by everyone in the diner. It was dumb, she knew that; she had completed her exam in front of people with this onesie and even walked across campus with it. But for some reason, she couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling. When Luke moved forward to open the door, he stumbled back and realized Julie had stopped walking. Their intertwined hands pulled him to a stop. He noticed Julie's worried eyes and moved closer, ducking his own head to catch her gaze. "Hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?" God, Julie wanted to scream. This is not how their first date was supposed to be going. "This is going to sound weird," Julie laughed nervously. "But I'm feeling super self-conscious about this onesie right about now." Luke's facial features softened, and he stepped even closer. He let go of her hand to bring it up close to her face; Julie's breath hitched and he stopped his movements. "Julie, believe me when I say this, you look stunning in that onesie. Honestly, I’m too distracted with your beauty to even notice anymore.” Her brain was short-circuiting and no words were coming to mind. His green gaze was so captivating, she couldn't look away. But they were standing outside the diner and she had to do something. His hand that stopped mid-air dropped back down, outlining her arm through the onesie to intertwine their pinkies. Julie felt her knees begin to shake. She swallowed hard. “Well, I am pretty hungry.” That was the most her incapacitated brain could come up with currently, but the comment sent a brightening smile to Luke’s lips. “Great,” he added, once again pulling open the front door. Julie took a deep breath to regain her confidence. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought; it only mattered how she felt. And if she was being honest, she felt pretty damn good after hearing what Luke had to say. There was a sign at the front saying ‘seat yourself’ so Julie slid into a widow booth. Luke slid in across from her, his vibrant smile still on full display. It had been quite some time since Julie went on a first date. It was also pretty obvious that she was out of her element, but Luke seemed perfectly okay with taking the lead. “So, what’s your major, Julie?” He waited until their waitress came over to hand them menus and bring two glasses of water to ask his question. He was casually perusing the menu, but inside, he was dying to know more about this mysterious girl. “You mentioned something about an Evidence course?” Julie glanced up from her menu with a soft smile. She hadn't really gotten a chance to celebrate the fact that she was officially finished her major, (however, she couldn't think of a better way to celebrate than a date with an incredibly cute and caring guy). "I was in Criminology. That was my last exam ever, actually." Luke's eyes widened comically, a large grin spreading over his face. "Congratulations, that's amazing!" He cheered, reaching over to softly squeeze her wrist. "Wow, I should be taking you out to a five course meal — not this." Julie's eyes snapped up to meet his. He was grinning and he looked confident, but Julie could see the underlying insecurity beneath. It was intriguing to see, given how comfortable he had been since they'd met. "This is perfect," she replied evenly, meeting his eye with assurance. Luke matched her smile. The waitress came back to take their order, smiling knowingly at the adorable couple. Luke ordered a chocolate milkshake with a cheeseburger and fries, while Julie also ordered a chocolate milkshake and a chicken caesar wrap with sweet potato fries. “Perfect. I’ll put that order in right away and it’ll be out soon,” their waitress assured them with a bright smile. “What about you?” Julie asked, straw between her lips. She didn’t miss the way Luke’s eyes flickered down for a nanosecond; it gave her all the confidence in the world. “Your major?” Luke took a moment longer to reply (yes, he was composing himself, what about it?). “I’m actually a music major.” Julie’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Oh, really?” “Yeah. I was just taking that course as a filler,” he explained. “That was my final exam too.” Julie’s face lit up in excitement. “Doesn’t it feel great?” “Unbelievable,” he chuckled. “A little scary because what the hell am I supposed to do now?” Julie’s smile dimmed a bit. She was in the same boat and she had been avoiding thinking about it for as long as possible. However, she was still young and there was always the possibility of going back to school (although, her current outfit and mental stability would argue against that). “But we’re not going to think about that right now,” she replied with a coy smile. Luke opened his mouth to rebut, but he was instead distracted by the mouthwatering scent of their food arriving. He was mesmerized, but Julie was straight up emotional about it; she truly thought she might cry. “Oh God,” she mumbled, her senses completely overloaded. “It’s been so long since I’ve had proper food. Does coffee count as a food?” Luke was already shoving fries into his mouth. “Definitely not,” he replied through a full mouth. It definitely wasn’t first date etiquette but Julie was so hungry, she couldn’t be bothered to notice. Not that she cared anyway, she was quickly gnawing down her wrap, nearly forgetting to breathe. Once Julie was satisfied that her hunger was appropriately satiated and she could finally multi-task again, she took a sip of her milkshake and turned her attention to Luke once again. “So, music. How’d you get into it?” Luke was momentarily surprised at the question, but he was more than happy to speak about it. Music was everything to him; he could talk about it all day. “Honestly, it kind of just happened. A cousin of mine used to have a guitar and we taught ourselves to play.” “Are you any good?” Julie meant it to come out teasingly, but it really ended up sounding more flirty than anything. “Maybe you should find out.” Luke very easily matched her tone and Julie found herself sweating before him. “How do you propose I do that?” Well, she may as well continue with the ruse. She had leaned forward in the booth, resting her chin in her hand. “Lucky for you, I have a band.” Julie’s brain immediately stopped all function. He was attractive, he had amazing biceps, he was sweet and respectable and he was in a band? “You — you’re in a band?” Julie cringed at the obvious fumble in her words. He can’t just drop that on her and expect her to be okay though. An unconscious smile spread across his features. “My best friends and I are in a band. We try to play gigs whenever we can; you know, exposure.” “Oh — you play gigs,” Julie swallowed. God, her throat was dry. “Does that mean you have original songs?” Luke nodded again; he looked so excited. “My band calls me the Shakespeare of songwriting. Can’t help myself.” Julie’s brain started screaming at her again: HE WRITES SONGS. Julie grabbed her glass of water and drained it halfway. “That’s awesome. Uh — so, are you the guitarist?” “Lead guitarist,” he smirked with pride. “I’m also the lead singer.” Julie squeezed her water glass so tight, her knuckles turned white. Luke’s eyes dropped to her hand and his smirk only widened. He was full-on torturing her now and he knew it. “How the hell are you even real?” Julie was never known for her subtlety. Luke should know that by now since she basically went off on him in the exam room already anyway. He wasn’t, however, expecting that random question. His eyebrows rose in surprise, but Julie didn’t elaborate. Instead, she seemed to be almost glaring at him. He laughed, a hint of nervousness in his tone. “Excuse me?” “You’re a guitar player in a band, you write songs and you sing them. You’re ridiculously sweet and kind and I haven’t seen any red flags yet, which is literally unbelievable nowadays. You’re somehow interested in me and you’re ridiculously hot. There must be something else going on here because there is no way in hell that this is real.” Luke could only blink at her. He took a moment to mull over his next words before he relayed them with a frown. “If you’re impressed by my kindness, which should just be basic human behaviour, then men clearly need to do better.” Julie bit her lip as she sighed. “Sorry. That was a lot. I just mean—” Luke interrupted. “You seem to be really surprised that someone like me could be interested in you and I just don’t understand,” he explained, brows furrowed together. “What you and I see is clearly different. I see someone intelligent and dedicated enough to her studies to block out everything else and get it done. I see someone beautiful, no matter what they're wearing. I see someone who doesn't think as highly of themselves as they should because I've only known you a few hours and that's enough for me to know that I want you in my life." Now it was Julie's turn to blink. "Sorry," Luke popped out a smirk, "That was a lot." "Listen," Julie breathed, openly avoiding eye contact as she started her explanation. "I'm not, nor have I ever been, that successful in the dating department. This," she motioned between her and Luke, "Has never happened to me before and I'm not entirely sure how to handle it. So, I'm sorry if I'm butchering this." Luke instantly reached forward to grab her hand. "You're not." "Are you sure?" She laughed nervously. "I've given you more than one reason tonight to think I'm certifiably insane." Luke looked up from their conjoined hands with an earnest smile. "I hate to break it to you, but it's going to take a lot more than that to drive me away." Julie considered it for a moment. "You know what, I'm okay with that." "Good," he laughed. He stood up from the booth. "I'll be right back." Julie took this opportunity to momentarily reflect. In the span of twenty-four hours, she had gone through a range of emotions like something she'd never experienced before. But she had successfully completed her exams, and thus, completed her major. She could now take a break from school and decide how she wanted to proceed. Somehow the worst week of her life ended up as one of the best. Luke returned a few moments lately, shoving his wallet back into his back pocket. "Alright, we're all squared away. You ready to go?" Julie nodded with a smile, easily following him outside. "Thanks for the meal, Luke. I needed it." "Of course." He was unable to lose the grin from his face. "Hey, is it alright if I get your number?" Julie almost tripped over herself in taking out her cellphone from the pocket of her onesie. They exchanged phone numbers with a smile. "I live just around the corner over there," Julie motioned with her index finger. "But tonight was great, and I had a lot of fun." Luke's eyebrows furrowed together. "Oh, that's great. But I'm walking you home." "You don't need to do that," she replied automatically. "I want to." Well, Julie couldn't dispute that. Luke once again reached for her hand and Julie led the way. She knew it would be an exceptionally short walk, but he kept the conversation going for all of it. It felt like he couldn't get enough of talking to her and it seriously made Julie's heart squeeze with affection. When they reached the doorstep of Julie's building, she turned to him with nervous eyes. "I would love to take you out again," Luke murmured quietly. The energy around them had suddenly changed and Julie was hyper aware of his thumb stroking her palm. "I would love to see your band," she replied, because honestly, she still hadn't gotten that image out of her head. An immediate grin broke out on Luke's face. "Then it's decided," his eyes softened once again as he took a step down. "Get some sleep, Julie. Celebrate your achievements by forty-seven hours of sleep." "You know what?" Julie threw her head back in a laugh. "I think I just might." His eyes were sparkling as he observed her laughing. It was the best sight he'd seen in ages. Julie could see his hesitation and decided he'd done enough already (especially through her multiple freak-outs over the course of the day). With his small step down, he was finally at her height. She took a small step forward and pulled him closer with a soft hand of the back of his neck. She met his wide eyes as she moved closer and pulled a smile as she pressed her lips dangerously close to his lips. She kept her hand where it was and only moved back to glance in his eyes. His own hand slid behind her back and she savoured every moment of his touch. No words were needed. All they needed was the mere presence of each other. Julie finally pulled away, throwing a shy smile in his direction. "Goodnight, Luke." He was grinning the widest she'd seen since they met. "Goodnight, Julie."

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #juke #juke fics #jatp fics #juke au #jatp au #luke patterson #julie molina #julie x luke #luke x julie

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pterodactylterrace · 3 years

Text

Guys Like You Chapter 13

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 13

Chapter Summary: I’ll trade your truth bomb with one of my own

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Smut. Tons of dialogue. I had trouble getting this one the way I liked it. It’s been rewritten a few times now.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8} {Chapter 9} {Chapter 10} {Chapter 11} {Chapter 12}

Henry's blood ran cold, his stomach dropping to his feet, his chest tightening like a vise. What was she saying? Had he made her feel inadequate? Like she wasn't good enough for him? Had he not paid enough attention to her? Why did she feel like this?

"Faye." Henry finally forced out, crossing the small room to sit on the edge of her bed, trying to collect himself before starting this conversation in earnest.

"It's ok, Henry. You're not going to hurt my feelings. I know I'm not a catch by any means. I mean... who wants used goods?"

"Faye." Henry repeated, more firmly this time. He took a slow breath before turning to face her more. "You need to stop. Just... stop."

"Henry, I know it's difficult, but it's something you need to hear."

"No. It's not. Faye... I don't care what other people have to say, because you know what? Whenever I picture myself happy anymore, it's with you. You're what I want. I want all of it. You're so much more than you think you are. You're a talented artist, an amazing mother and one of the most beautiful women I've ever met. Inside and out."

"Do you really expect me to believe that? You're an A-list movie star."

"And you're beautiful enough to catch my eye without even trying. I don't care what the rest of the world has to say. I want you. You make me happy. My home is wherever you and the baby are. I... fuck it, I love you Faye, and I'm sorry that I haven't been there for you like I should have."

"Henry, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm the problem."

"No, you're not. You make me happy. I want you. I love you." Henry insisted, gently taking her shoulders in his hands and looking deep into her eyes as he spoke. "Now please. Stop saying such terrible things about the woman I love."

"I... I just feel like I don't deserve you." Faye admitted, lowering her gaze and wiping at the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She had to stay strong. She couldn't let him see her cry.

"You make me the luckiest man in the world every time you look my way. I'm crazy about you, and I mean everything I said." Henry assured, pulling her to his chest and wrapping her tight in his arms. "Move in with me?"

"What?" Faye breathed, her voice catching on a barely suppressed sob.

"I hate being so far away. It's not home without you two."

"That's not going to work out, Henry. There's no yard for Kal here, and not enough space in Kensington for everyone either."

"Then we'll find a new place. Whatever place you like. As long as I'm with you two, it's home to me."

"Options are a little limited. I can't move too far from here. This is where my job is."

"We will find you something wherever we go. You hate it there anyway."

"But my visa..."

"You worry too much."

"You don't worry enough!"

"Keep your job until we find somewhere you like. Then we will find you something there before you quit. I have thought things through, darling."

"What if I can't find anything?"

"Absolute worst case scenario, I can make up some bullshit job you do for me until something else comes up. Please, Faye? I'm going crazy being so far from you two."

"I'll think about it." Faye finally relented.

"That I can work with. Now while we're thinking, can we rethink what you're wearing to the premiere? It's the first time I'm showing my girlfriend to the public, and while you're beautiful in anything you wear, I'd really like to spoil you for the occasion."

"Like you spoil Briar?"

"I do not spoil her."

"Ice cream even though she didn't finish her dinner? Four bedtime stories? The fact that you are currently covered in pony stickers and glitter?"

"I see nothing wrong with any of it. I haven't seen her for a long time."

"Spoiling her."

"Fine then, I'm gonna spoil both my girls." Henry huffed, squeezing her a little tighter.

"Already have the baby spoiled." Faye insisted, fighting back a yawn, the emotional drain of their conversation finally taking its toll.

"Then it's her mum's turn. I'll call my stylist and see what he can do for you."

"Oh, Mr. Fancy with his stylist."

"Would you really trust me to dress myself for these things?"

"I'm imagining the blue tank top and your booty shorts for some reason."

"Which one? I have several blue vests."

"It's a tank top."

"England."

"I don't care what you say, it's not a vest."

"It is here."

"You know, I'd ask if you wanted to join me for a shower to get all that glitter off of you, but you'd probably have some bizarre English way of saying that too, and I just don't have the energy for that right now."

"No, I'm fine with however you say it, as long as I'm joining."

"You'd say anything for the chance to bone me again."

"That is true. Now let's go shower."

"Such a horn dog!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm just sitting here holding a gorgeous woman and talking about getting her wet and naked and slippery. Forgive me for reading too far into that."

"I said you could shower with me, not that I was gonna get you off."

"You act like I'm above fucking my fist while standing in the back of the shower staring you." Henry scoffed, tossing Faye onto his shoulder and carrying her down the hall to the shower, ignoring her indignant squeals of protest.

"Henry!" Faye finally snapped when he had closed the bathroom door behind himself, finally earning an amused hum from the man carrying her around. "Put me down!"

"Fine." He sighed, gently setting her down, sending a mischievous glance her way before his fingers hooked into the waistband of her shorts, quickly jerking them and her panties down as he dropped to his knees, diving in to lick a stripe between her folds.

"What the... oh fuck." Faye sighed, her eyes fluttering closed, one hand resting on his head as she kicked one foot free of her clothing, Henry wasting no time in throwing it over his shoulder, to grant himself better access. His tongue was relentless, alternating between plunging inside of her, to flicking across her clit, to lapping up every drop of arousal he could, his hands gripping her ass, pulling her closer as he worked her over, spurred on by the whispered sound of his name falling from her lips.

"F-fuck... Henry!" Faye groaned, her hips and thighs tensing as she felt herself being drawn closer and closer to the edge, Henry latching onto her needy bundle of nerves, sucking hard while working it with his tongue, sending her crashing into her orgasm. If it hadn't been for his hands holding her ass so tightly, Faye was pretty sure she would have fallen from the force of her climax, months of pent up frustration being released in one toe curling orgasm.

"Damn it, Henry. A little warning next time."

"It's not exactly surprise oral if I warn you." Henry teased, reluctantly letting her go and standing back up to turn on the shower.

"Nice ass." Faye teased, swatting at him as soon as he bent over, her target chuckling and shaking his head at her antics.

"And you keep saying I'm the dork."

"You're my dork."

"Mmhmm. I'm starting to think you may be the dork in this relationship." Henry teased, pulling his shirt off while the water warmed and setting it on the countertop, Faye's intense gaze locking on him not going unnoticed. "Uhh, my eyes are up here, Miss Warren."

"I know. Just enjoying the rest of the view. You know what would make it better? If you took your pants off."

"And you keep saying I'm the one with a problem."

"Your current problem is too much pants." Faye taunted, pulling her old t-shirt off and sliding past him to get in the shower.

"Really? I could have sworn my problem was lack of pussy." Henry shot back, hurried hands working on his belt. Faye was innocently washing her hair when he finally fought his way free of the rest of his clothing, his greedy paws wasting no time in palming her breasts.

"Warning!" Faye gasped, grabbing onto his wrists to keep her balance.

"How's this for a warning? I'm gonna fuck you up against that wall." Henry explained, cupping the back of her neck and pulling her in for a passionate kiss before she could protest. His hands slid slowly down her body, caressing her skin with the pads of his fingers, her arms winding around his neck, trying to pull him closer.

"Hold on." Henry instructed, his hands venturing to her ass, grabbing generous handfuls and lifting her up, Faye clinging to him, the peril of their actions not lost on her. They were both one slip away from a world of hurt.

Henry was careful with her, gently pressing her back against the shower wall, kissing and nipping at the junction of her shoulder, slowly adjusting their limbs to his satisfaction before reaching around her hip and thigh, gripping himself tightly to seek out her entrance.

"Go slow." Faye requested, biting her lip at the burning stretch she was slowly becoming used to.

"I will." Henry assured, making sure he was stable and Faye was secure in his grasp before he began slowly rolling his hips into her, leaning back just enough to watch her face changing from somewhat pained, to content to desperate all within a few deep thrusts. He continued his languid pace, a shudder going down his spine as she grew more and more frantic at his slow, deep thrusts, her nails digging into his shoulders as she squirmed in his grasp, trying to gain anymore friction she could.

"Fuck slow, I want it now." Faye groaned, one hand sliding from his shoulders down between their bodies to work her sensitized clit.

"Then come for me, beautiful." Henry groaned, trying to catch a glimpse of Faye's hand working herself, his pace increasing until she was squeezing around him moaning softly and bucking her hips through her high.

"Fuck..." Faye groaned, her nails digging into his shoulder harder when his pace only increased at her release, her legs twitching and jerking with over sensitization.

"Almost... almost." Henry panted, seeming to read her mind as he desperately sought his own release. Faye held on to him tighter, feeling another coil forming in her belly, promising another release.

"Can you...?" Henry panted, his movements becoming sloppier as he neared his finish, though desperate to hold on until finished again.

"No... too much..." Faye groaned, her hips rolling into his in spite of her words, desperate for just one more. "Fuck..." She hissed, biting down on his chest as she came again, Henry quickly following behind her.

"Are you ok?" Henry asked once he caught his breath, carefully detangling himself from her and gently setting her back on her feet.

"Yeah... I'm great." Faye sighed, shooting him a relaxed grin. "You know, if this is how it's going to be after every time we argue, I may start having to pick fights with you more often."

"Or you could just ask me 'wanna fuck?' And I'll gladly do this all over again." Henry suggested.

"That would save me the trouble of having to find something to be mad at you about."

"Help keep my hair from going any more gray, too." Henry chuckled, pecking a quick kiss to her lips when she tried to lean around him for her loofah.

"Mmm, silver fox."

"Keep it up." Henry pouted, grabbing the soap from her and dumping some into his hand, working it into a lather to wash away the sweat. It wasn't until he reached his legs that a thought occurred to him, his brows furrowing as he let it bounce around his brain for a second.

"Oh shit!"

"What?" Faye half yelped, turning wide eyes up to him.

"I... fuck... I didn't think to use a condom." Henry groaned, letting his head drop against the tile.

"Oh... well... once should be fine, right?"

"It doesn't matter if it is, we agreed I'd wear one, and I didn't."

"Can you not beat yourself up over this?"

"You were very specific about always using protection."

"Well the fact that you're upset about it says a lot." Faye offered, running her fingers along his jaw. "We'll just need to be more careful."

"Should we use Plan B?" Henry suggested, finally forcing his gaze up to meet hers. "I don't want to put you into an uncomfortable position."

"Henry. Deep breath. It's fine. Everything is fine. My period ended two days ago. We're ok. Stop worrying yourself over it."

"Can I still feel like shit about it?"

"By all means."

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill rpf #guys like you

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saynotoshityouhate · 3 years

Text

Squirt Guns & Switches (Adam Sackler x Reader)

summary: Your childish boyfriend ruined your nephew's birthday gift - but that didn't ruin your evening.

notes: this was my first submission to a fic exchange ( @adcuficexchange ) ever - something that really pushed myself out of my comfort zone but now I’m addicted. I wrote this for the lovely @leatherboundbirate and while it’s not my best work (and I desperately want to try it again now that I know what I’m doing) I still had fun writing it and hope you liked it! 💕

cw: oral (f receiving), PIV, squirt gun play

Summer in NYC was sweltering at best. The air was thick with humidity and sweat. The tall buildings and black asphalt held all of the heat at street level. Your small apartment had one window AC unit that you only turned on to sleep. You and your boyfriend, Adam, were struggling actors and living in NYC was expensive enough without the small comfort of cool air.

It was your nephew’s birthday party tomorrow, and you still needed to wrap his gift. You got out the wrapping paper, tape and scissors from the back corner of your closet, along with the shopping bag that held his gift, and set them at the kitchen table to put the gift together. You poured yourself a tall glass of ice water, attempting to cool your body down more, as wearing only a thin white tank top and gym shorts wasn’t doing the trick.

As you sat down, the front door flew open. Adam, a towering presence, crashed into the living room, kicking off his shoes and tossing his red backpack onto the couch. “Hey kid,” Adam kissed your cheek, “How was your day?” He whipped off his t-shirt, revealing his structured chest that was covered in a sheen of sweat. His skin was adorned with millions of little brown freckles and moles, a walking game of connect the dots - your favorite hobby was to trace them and find new constellations across his back.

“Oooooh shit, I’ve always wanted one of these!” Adam picked up the newest version of the SuperSoaker Squirt Gun - the gift you had purchased for your nephew, before you even had a chance to answer. “Hey put that back, that’s for tomorrow!” The heat had drained the patience from your soul, even if he got cuter when he was excited about something.

Before you knew it, he had ripped the packaging apart, eliciting a groan from you. “Ugh, seriously Adam?” Adam chuckled. “Kids have too many toys these days anyways. I’d be content with a stick…and a magnifying glass.” You rolled your eyes. “You were one of those kids who lit ants on fire, weren’t you.” He stuck his tongue out at you as he turned on the sink to fill up the squirt gun’s large tank.

You stood, hands on your hips, still pissed that you’d have to buy a new gift in the morning. “Adam, don’t you dare.” Adam grinned wide, showing off his goofy smile that made you absolutely melt. You tried to hold firm, but then he fired. “wanna see your tits….” He sprayed the squirt gun across your chest, dampening your white tank top. You squealed, the ice cold water soaking through the thin fabric, quickly revealing the fact that you hadn’t put a bra on this morning. It was too hot!

“Adam!!!” You whined, stomping your feet. “Give me that!” You charged towards him, grabbing at the squirt gun. Adam held the gun above his head and skipped around the apartment chanting “You’re not wearing a bra! You’re not wearing a bra!” He was too tall for you to reach it, but you knew exactly what to do to get him to listen to you.

Taking a deep breath and looking up at him with puppy dog eyes, you grabbed the hem of your tank top. “My shirt is so wet Adam, I should probably take it off.” You lifted the shirt over your head, revealing your breasts. Adam dropped his arms from above his head, and set the squirt gun off to the side. Like two magnets, his large hands latched on, holding their weight and softness. You gasped slightly, knowing this would be his reaction but never fully prepared for how wonderful it felt. He knelt down, bringing your chest to eye level, as he laid gentle kisses on and around your breasts. You brushed your fingers through his mop of dark hair, reveling in the feelings coursing through you.

You hated to interrupt, but this was your one opportunity. You grabbed the squirt gun which was just off to the side and taking a step back, you fired. Adam was knocked off balance, too engrossed in your tits to realize you had bested him. You copied his actions, spraying his chest, until you saw the tent that had formed in his shorts. You laughed, always surprised by the small things about you that turned Adam on - like when you took control.

Adam’s eyes were blown wide, surprised by your actions but also incredibly excited for whatever was going to come next. Your eyes glistened with mischievous excitement. You shot one quick squirt of water just to the side of Adam’s hardening cock. He grunted, his hips thrusting slightly, seeking friction. You laughed again. “You’re a needy little brat, aren’t you? Stealing my gift, holding it out of my grasp, getting my shirt wet…” You sprayed the gun again, this time to the other side. He grunted again. “Kid, come on, gimme a break.” Adam pleaded.

You slowly walked toward Adam, squirt gun pointed at his crotch. “You ruined my gift, Adam.” You sprayed the base of his erection, drawing a groan from your prey. “Now I have to go shopping in the morning.” You sprayed the head of his cock. “Fuhuuck, I’m sorry,” Adam mumbled. “What did you say, babe? I couldn’t hear you.” You stood over him, your legs straddled over his hips, squirt gun pointed straight down.

Adam grabbed your calves, rubbing up and down. “Y/n, I’m…” you sprayed a long stream of icy cold water, slowly, from base to tip. “Hands off, Sackler. Not until I hear an apology.” Adam’s head rolled back, his hands falling to his side and his hips jutting upwards. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” he yelled, bringing his deep golden eyes back to meet yours. You smiled, taking a step forward and lowering yourself down to sit on his stomach. “That wasn’t too difficult, now was it?” You held the squirt gun above your head, resting your other hand on his chest and leaning in, you placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. Your breasts fell right in his eye line, taking every ounce of his self control not to open his perfect pink lips and take one into his mouth.

You stood up, setting the squirt gun back on the table. “Now, here’s how you’re going to make it up to me. Not only are you going to replace the gift you ruined before I have to leave in the morning, but you’re going to make me feel good. I’ve had a long fucking day. I really just wanted to wrap this gift and spend the evening with my wonderful, caring, doting boyfriend. I wanted to make him feel good.” You shimmied your hips, pushing your shorts and underwear down to your ankles. Kicking them off to the side and taking a large step forward, you looked down at Adam, who was salivating. “Do you think you can make me feel good, baby?” Adam nodded his head, swallowing thickly, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

You smiled down at your large, usually intimidating, boyfriend. Not only was he goofy, and silly, and sweet - but he could be strong, and dominating, and rough around the edges. You loved that about him - never knowing what to expect. It kept you excited - and he felt the same way about you. You slowly lowered yourself, his tentative hands gently guiding you, unsure whether he was allowed to touch you or not. “Please touch me,” you breathed, covering his hands with yours, your warmth easing itself onto his eagerly awaiting face.

Adam knew what he was doing, knowing exactly how to draw reactions from you, whether they were feelings of pleasure, frustration, or pure need. He used his lips and tongue, his breath and the vibrations of his own pleasure to drive you absolutely crazy. From the start, you weren’t sure how long you’d be able to hold out. Your hips moved in slow circles, your heavy head lolled back, and your hands, unable to find a home in one place, moved from Adam’s hair, to reaching behind you, grabbing at his now painfully hard erection through his shorts. “Babe, you make me feel so good, make me cum baby, please,” you whined, quickening the movement of your hips. Adam chuckled, the deep vibrations of his laughter drawing a high pitched squeal from you. He was in charge now.

Adam moved his hands up to your hips, and in one swift motion, he had you on your back. Lifting his head and pushing your legs apart, he settled himself up on his knees between your legs. “I’d be happy to go shopping for you, kid. But I know the best way to make you feel good is my cock in this tight pussy of yours. I was just gettin’ it ready earlier.” Adam pushed his shorts and boxers down just enough to free himself, the tip red and angry and leaking precum. “Please Adam,” you cried, desperately, “I need you.” That was all he needed. In one movement, he entered you, fully and deeply. He was right, his early actions had you more than prepared for his above average size. You had already been so close - it only took a few deep strokes and taps of his finger on your clit for you to lose control. Your orgasm crashed over you, babbling nonsense and soaking Adam’s cock with your arousal.

“Couldn’t even last for me, could you, kid? Now you’ve gotta wait for me, can you do that?” Adam’s thrusts became messy, his hair fell in front of his eyes and stuck to his face where your taste still lingered. You sighed, pushing his hair out of his eyes, reveling in the full, warm feeling that had washed over you. “I can wait for you, please cum for me, Adam. I want you to fill me up, Adam. Please.” That was enough for him, stuttering once more and groaning into his release.

You both laid on the kitchen floor, close...but not too close - the heat of the day and your activities didn’t bode well for post-coital cuddling, the squirt gun still sitting perfectly on it’s perch. Who knew a squirt gun could lead to so much enjoyment?

#adam sackler fanfic #adam sackler smut #adcu fic exchange #adcu summer fic exchange #adcu community #adcu #adam sackler x you #adam sackler x reader #Adam sackler

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elizabethemerald · 3 years

Text

Dreams of Drowning; Chap 14

AO3

Jim held Claire’s body close, gently resting his forehead against hers. Their dance had subsided in the shadows of their real bodies. He softly ran his thumb over her cheek while staring into her eyes. She took a soft breath but before she could say anything the lights around them flickered and died.

With a flash of light Jim dismissed his human sized copy and returned to his proper body. A splash signaled Claire doing the same. He growled and looked around. What else did Gunmar and Morgana have planned for them?

After the power died there was a few beats of silence, then with a rumbling roar something crashed through the ceiling above him. A ball of metal, the size of his hand plummeted down, shattering one of the massive chains that held him tight. He glanced at Claire, but she looked just as confused in her own tank. He snarled and grabbed the wrecking ball, the fires of his magic whirling to life around him.

“For the Doom of Gunmar, Eclipse is Mine to Command!” He roared.

Flames blasted down his arms with enough force to take a human off their feet. However he stood and leaned into the blast as the sphere of metal melted. The liquid metal flowed up his arm and across his chest covering his whole body in black armor.

He summoned his sword and slashed through the other chain that was still holding him. Then he slammed the point into the glass of Claire’s enclosure. To his surprise the blade stuck in the thick material. He leaned forward pushing his magic into and through the blade. A beam of fire flashed out of the blade cutting through the chains at Claire’s wrists. She gasped and grabbed one of her wrists, then smiled at him.

“You kept your promise.”

“We’re not out of here yet.” Jim said. Then he whipped his head up, his nostrils flaring as he looked at the hole where the metal sphere had fallen. He growled as the scent of magic drifted to him.

“Go. I’ll be right behind you.” Claire said, her smile growing wider as the water around her whipped up into a whirlpool and hairline cracks began to spread and grow across the surface of her tank. Jim bared his tusks and jerked his sword from the glass.

He put one hand up through the hole above, than another, then pulled himself up through the hole. The smell of magic was stronger here. Two small humans stood in the hallway and stepped back as he growled at them. He reached out towards them with his magic, blue flames pouring out of his mouth as he did so. He saw one spin, to put himself in front of the other.

Then he connected to them.

His mind was immediately swamped by the emotions of the others. Toby, Barbara, Darci, and Zelda. In a moment he and Claire joined their minds to the others. They could feel their fear and anger. And they could feel their love. The love flowing between the four of them blazed even brighter as it was joined by Jim and Claire’s love for each other and love for all of them.

In that moment, as he could see through the eyes of his family, he saw his mother look over Toby’s shoulder, he felt her recognition as she stared up at her child. Then through her eyes he watched something move behind him. Something dark that seemed to devour the light around them.

Jim was barely able to spin in time to halt Gunmar’s charge. He was driven back, smashing through the floor as he was pushed backwards. The black shroud of Corrupted Heartstone surrounded Gunmar, like a foul mist. He was rapidly growing, and soon would be as large as Jim and Claire were.

“Get my moms and Darci out of the building!” Jim said in his mind to Toby. He grappled with Gunmar pushing him back further and only had a moment to sense his friend acknowledge the thought before a torrent of water blasted through the floor and threw Gunmar up to the floor above them.

He had only a moment to appreciate Claire’s display of her power before golden chains wrapped around his waist. Morgana floated forward, wearing gold armor, before twisting and pulling the chains taut. Jim felt the jerk around his mid section and crashed into the wall, then burst through the ceiling.

“Hands off him, Witch!” Claire screamed, whipping at Morgana with great sheets of water.

Jim shook his head, trying to untangle himself from the remains of the building. He watched as an orange flame roared around him for a moment before Toby landed in front of him, holding his mom. Together the two of them ran for the exit while Jim ducked down to face Morgana.

Instead he found himself face to face with Gunmar. Gunmar grabbed Jim’s horns, dragging him backwards, tearing down walls of the building as they went. Every few steps he rained another blow on Jim’s head and face.

“No one to protect you now! What should a father do to the one who killed his only son?” Gunmar roared and growled.

Jim had no desire to find out what Gunmar had in mind. He pulled his legs up and kicked at Gunmar with all of his strength. A blast of cerulean fire accompanied the kick and knocked Gunmar back and through a wall. This time he didn’t let his enemy gather himself, instead following close, his dark blade flashing in his hands as he attacked.

He roared and smashed Gunmar back, shattering more walls as he did so. Rubble was falling from the ceiling as their fight tore the building apart. He glance briefly through the eyes of his family. Toby smashed a hole in a wall with his hammer dragging Jim’s mom out into the open night air. Elsewhere Darci and Zelda defended each other, a cyclone keeping debris at bay while Zelda shattered any obstacle in their way.

Claire battled Morgana, golden chains and thunderous blasts of light dueling with purple waves and torrents or water. Despite Claire’s size advantage, Morgana had been draining her for years to empower herself and their power was evenly matched.

Jim refocused again on Gunmar as the massive monster he had become attacked. While Jim could feel the powerful blows they didn’t hurt nearly as much as they would have before Jim’s own transformation.

Gunmar dug his heels in, then threw Jim up into the ceiling before slamming him back down on the ground, sending him crashing into the floor below again. He immediately jumped down, his foot landing on Jim’s chest, a twisted blade appearing in his hand.

“I’m going to break you, boy.” Gunmar growled, the blade glowing with a sickly pale light.

Jim screamed as the light of the blade reached out to him. He felt like his whole body was shattering again and again. Every bone in his body was breaking and being mended then breaking again. He screamed and he felt the answering screams from his family. Toby trying to drag Barbara to where their wives were waiting, and Claire in her struggle with Morgana. All of them were screaming in their minds, the connections between them alight with pain and despair. One by one, they dropped, the pain Gunmar was putting Jim through too much for them to bare.

As the pain threatened to break his senses and shatter his will, Jim felt his fire suddenly reignite, blazing along the tangled web of love they shared. In that instant his armor shone with a new light, a deep crimson as he pushed Gunmar’s foot off his chest.

“In their darkest hour, I burn Brightest!” Jim roared, slashing his blade across Gunmar’s chest. The beast stumbled away, the crack shining bright with that same crimson fire.

“No.” He whispered. “It cannot be.”

The light burned brighter, an inferno racing across Gunmar’s limbs. He screamed, wildy, like an animal as light poured from his mouth and eyes. With a final roar of pain, a shock wave blasted off his body, Jim sheltered behind his armor as best as he could as the destructive wave shook him to his core, the building collapsing in on itself as the wave swept through it.

In a moment Jim could only hear the sound of a few remaining pieces of rubble settling. Gunmar’s body lay before him, shattered to pieces. He breathed deeply, trying to recover himself after what happened. He looked up at a sound.

“Claire!” He rushed through the destroyed ruins of 49B as her purple water pushed a wave of rubble off her. She looked tired, but she was alive. Jim bared his tusks, a growl on his lips. “Where’s Le Fay?”

Claire gestured limply to the broken stones around them.

“She’s somewhere under all that.” She shuddered as she spoke and Jim dove to catch her. For the first time they were truly touching. She smiled up at him, her eyes tired, but the magic under her skin dancing with light. “You did it. We-we did it. We’re free.”

She stood up right again with Jim’s help. The water around her, that had fallen slack with her exhaustion rose again filled with her light circling around her as she threw her arms around Jim’s shoulders pulling him in tight. Jim hugged her back just as fiercely, his flames roaring around the two of them, mixing with her water and blazing brighter as their magic interacted.

“Awe. Isn’t that sweet.” Toby’s thoughts pushed their way to the forefront of Jim’s mind.

The two of them turned to see their little family gathering at the outside of the rubble. Jim knelt down and put his hand out for them. Toby immediately wrapped Jim’s fingers in a tight hug, and Barbara was right behind him. Zelda and Darci followed at a more sedate pace. They all looked similarly tired, with a few slight injuries, but none of them were seriously hurt. Barbara released her son’s finger to step up to Claire.

“It’s good to meet you, I mean the real you, after how much my son has been talking about you lately.” She was smiling widely up at Claire.

Claire crouched down to Barbara’s level, then in a flash of water materialized her small form at her feet. Her smaller self hugged Barbara as tight as she could. A blaze of fire next to them and human sized Jim stepped up to the two of them, standing in the shadows of their gigantic forms.

As soon as his human form appeared he was immediately pulled into a massive hug. Claire, his mother, Toby, Darci, Zelda, Walter. They all held each other tightly, desperately. Tears flowed freely down their faces, as they pressed together.

Finally. Finally their little family was al together. Finally Claire was free. Jim was safe. 49B was destroyed, utterly. No one else would suffer as they had. No one else would be held and tortured at the hands of Gunmar Black or Morgan le Fay. Finally.

After a long moment Barbara pulled back from the group hug. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, looking around at all of them.

“What’s next?” She asked.

“Well for now, let’s go home. We’ll figure out what else to do later.”

#jim lake junior #claire nunez #toby domzalski #Barbara Lake #darci scott #zelda nomura #dreams of drowning #writing emerald #tales of arcadia

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vanillann · 4 years

Text

steps of falling in love (draco malfoy x f.reader)

word count: 1.1k

steps of falling in love masterlist

step 1: drop all contracts

"Someone looks happy," I spoke gently as Vi found Ky and I in the courtyard, the first day of classes done.

"I just spoke to Kline about Malfoy, she hates him."

I let my head fall into my hand, rolling my eyes and I leaned on Kyla's shoulder.

"That's (Y/N) job, to make him irresistible," Kyla wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

"Malfoy might have the looks, but his charm isn't even in this universe."

Vi took a seat on the grass, her head falling back into Kyla lap while her fingers played with her hair. I smirked to myself while Ky jumped in.

"You are really good at teaching people how to charm."

I rolled my eyes, looking around before I found Melody Kline standing against the stone wall with her and a few friends.

"If I know Kline she is going to expect Malfoy to praise her."

"Rightfully so, she's hot," Viki said as she grabbed a small flask from her bag and took a quick drink. I laughed at Kyla upsetting stare, grabbing the flask and shoving it in her own bag.

"I was drinking that."

"I know, that's why I took it."

Icloud cough interrupted the little argument, Draco Malfoy stood before us with his robes hung loosely off his body and his hair mess. His face was a drain of color and his bags were big enough for Kyla's shopping addiction but I said nothing about it as he looked between us three.

"May I speak to you three in private?"

I stood from the bench, grabbing Viki's hand as I helped her to her feet. Kyla followed the action, each of us turning to look at Malfoy. He turned and walked backed into the small corridor of the castle, the air around us quiet as everyone watched us follow Malfoy.

Students whispered to one another, each of us looking between each other before we stopped at the door to the Slytherin common room door. I saw my own common room door a few feet away as I heard Malfoy mutter "Pureblood"under his breath.

I saw the door open, Ky walking in like nothing but Vi and I stood outside. I was green covered in the room and the windows looked to be like fish tanks with water behind them.

"Are we even allowed in?" Viki whispered to me.

"I don't know."

"Aren't you two coming," Kyla smiled as she walked to one of the many couches and fell back onto it . I wrapped an arm around Vi's, us slowly walking into the dark common room that was empty of people beside the small group.

"We need a schedule for these lessons you plan to give me," Malfoy spoke quickly as he pulled out multiple pieces of papers and quills.

"Do you have your company's contract?"

I looked to Ky who shrugged her shoulder, looking to Vi for the same thing but she just looked at me wide eyed.

"Contract?"

"You do know what that is," he said to him, his eyes boring into my own, I felt like the light was being ripped from me.

"We three sixth years having fun, there has never been a contract."

Vi and I stayed close together and she sat on a loveseat, watching Malfoy's face stay cold as he stared us down.

"Does he blink?" I whispered to Vi.

"I can hear you whispering, you whisper loud."

I didn't move, watching him closely as he rolled his eyes and pulled his papers out. Ky laughed from her seat, throwing her head back with a smile as Draco crossed his ankles and set his elbow on his knees.

"I have a busy year and if I do this I need it to be organized," he spoke, his eyes now only looked to Kyla.

"Vi and I are great at planning and behind the scenes but the only person who can teach you to charm someone is (Y/N)."

"Which one is (Y/N)?"

I gasped, Malfoy looking to me with his stone cold stare. He pushed a stack of paper while holding a pen out to me.

"Sign at the bottom."

I grabbed the stack and read over a few words, each was a specific date for a specific study. Words like "Art of Flirting" and "Consent for Hand Holding" almost made me giggle if I wasn't scared for my life right now.

"Malfoy, learning how to make someone love you isn't a thing you plan."

"I said sign."

I pushed the quill closer to him, shaking my head as I let the papers fall onto the table before us.

"I'm not signing anything, this isn't a business deal-"

"That's exactly what this pesky badger is."

"That's pesky honey badger to you slippery snake."

I smiled as he rolled his eyes, falling back farther into the chair he sat in. Ky and Vi held back their giggles, both looking between Malfoy and me like a tennis match.

"You think you're witty don't you."

"Correction, I know I'm witty."

"God, you're almost as bad as Potter," Draco mumbled before seating back up, his grey eyes swirling as he leaned closer to me. He took a single finger and pushed the stack of papers closer to me.

"Sign the contract."

"I'm not signing a contract like this is some big thing, we are in school having fun being teenagers. You should try it sometime Mr. Serious."

I watched his body visibly stop working, the power in his eyes left and his hand went numb again the contract on the table.

"Look, I truly don't mind helping you learn this stuff but it's going to be under my circumstances or it's not happening at all."

Malfoy looked at Vi and Ky, both girls just looking back at me without much of a word.

"How did she get into Hufflepuff?"

"She's as loyal as a dog, she's don't walking about contract or not," Viki cut in, her head falling into her hand that sat on my knee.

"Like I said on the train yesterday, Kline is the only person that fits your descriptions but she isn't going to play a game with you. You need to make her love you and hopefully by the end you will love her, or at least like her."

Malfoy played with the rings across his pale fingers, the silver looked nice against his skin.

"I'm putting more than you know in your hand right now, I swear if you let me down-"

"The only person that can fail you during this is yourself," I spoke as I stood up, Vi followed suit.

"Will you at least shake on it."

I shrugged, out reaching my chipped painting nails to him with a happy smile across my face.

"Oh god, you smile like a Hufflepuff."

Draco hand wrapped around my own, his hands cold as death as he gave a firm shake.

"Do you not know how to shake hands or something?"

I just nodded my head, pulled my hand from his.

"Meet me tomorrow after class for lesson one."

hp tag list:

@siriusmaraudeers @haphazardhufflepuff @marauder-exe

draco malfoy tag list:

@okaydraco @coldlilheart

steps of falling in love tag list:

@aplaintart @pointlesscoconut @pillowjj

#harry potter x reader #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #fred weasley #george weasley #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #draco malfoy #draco imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco x you #draco x reader #draco lucius malfoy

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 3 years

Text

Your Power Over Me: Two - motivation

Summary: There are more reasons besides loving New Orleans for Frank Shaver to want Power out of his city.

Pairing: Frank Shaver x OFC (Michelle Shaver)

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: gun fire, violence, blood mention, hospital mention, gunshot wound, general angst

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

The weird calls never stopped coming in. For two weeks Frank was working later and later. Sometimes not coming home until the early hours of the morning, absolutely exhausted. Claudia cried for her dad the first few nights, going until she wore herself out and fell asleep with tears drying on her face. But after a while she finally understood. Her dad was out there catching bad guys — making New Orleans safer — just for her.

It wasn’t until the last few nights that Michelle cried for her husband. Silently, into the darkness of their shared bedroom, as she tried to wait up for him to come home. She was sure it was the pregnancy hormones that were making this harder. This wouldn’t be the first or last time that Frank would have to work ridiculous hours in order to get to the bottom of something. Michelle prided herself on being the strong detective wife that she was. Never crying, always positive, always supportive. But some nights were harder than others.

Some days too.

And that morning was one of the harder ones. Frank left the day before around nine to start his shift and hadn’t been home since. He texted to let her know that he was okay — just following some leads on this new pill on the streets of New Orleans. Claudia didn’t have daycare that day. They could only afford for her to go about three times a week.

Home alone, taking on the world, the Shaver women.

Michelle had set up Claudia in the living room with a paper craft and her favorite tv show while she tried to throw together some lunch for the two of them. She really needed to go shopping. Hopefully Claudia wouldn’t be too put off by the idea of bologna and cheese sandwiches and cucumber. Again. For the third time that week. Eh, she was three. She would eat the same thing every day if she had the choice. Michelle just wasn’t giving her any.

“Hey, baby,” Michelle called to her daughter from the kitchen, “You want juice or water with lunch?”

“Hmmmm juice!” her tiny voice called back.

“Juice what?”

“Juice…pea!”

“Please — all right.”

Michelle gave a thumbs up as she grabbed a juice box from the fridge. It was the last one. She put the juicebox on the bright purple divided plate and brought it out to the living room. Claudia had already set aside her craft and sat patiently at the coffee table, little princess chair pulled up to the side as she watched her show. Michelle set down the plate in front of her and stabbed the straw into the juice box.

“Remember, don’t squeeze.” Michelle handed the box back to Claudia then brushed her fingers over her dark hair. She hoped the next one got her bright copper locks.

“Tank you, Mommy,” Claudia said as she set the juice box by her plate. “I love you.”

Michelle smiled down at her. She really was a great kid. She threw her fits and was struggling with her speech — but every kid was different. She would admit, being a mother was hard. Having a little person who didn’t ask to be born be fully dependent on her was scary at times. Some days Michelle felt like she was failing Claudia in some way. Other days she felt more like a caregiver than a mother, being drained and worn down by the end of a day spent with her daughter. But Claudia would never know that. Never.

“I love you too, baby.”

There was a noise coming from outside. Like someone was hitting something with a hammer repeatedly. Under that was a squeaky car engine and shouting. With a furrowed brow, Michelle moved to the window to see what was going on. They lived on a pretty quiet street. She parted the curtain in time to see a blue van with the side door slid open barreling down the street. Two men were hanging out of the door — each of them with a gun pointed at what looked like a person running faster than the van.

The men in the van were firing right at the houses as they drove past, trying to hit the one running outside.

“Claudia!” Michelle yelled as she quickly turned from the window.

In a moment, she scooped Claudia up into her arms, just before the first bullet broke through the front of the house.

Glass breaking. Wood splintering. Bullets whizzing through the air. Claudia screaming into her shoulder. White hot, burning pain in her upper thigh as she ducked behind the kitchen counter for safety. Just in time for all of it to stop.

Michelle lowered herself down onto the floor. Claudia was still screeching and crying as she clung tightly to her mother’s shirt. Michelle adjusted Claudia in her arms and could already see the red pooling onto the floor beneath her left leg. The pain was gone — but it was getting hard to breathe. Had that really just happened? Her entire leg now felt numb. Her fingers shook violently as she pulled her phone from her pocket. It was a struggle to dial the correct number.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“Gun — there was a driveby — I’ve been shot.” Michelle looked down at her leg again. Her jeans were soaked in red, it was getting on Claudia’s bare feet.

“What is your address?”

“1492 Clermont Dr, New Orleans.”

“Okay, paramedics are on their way. Is there anyone else with you?”

“Yes — my — my daughter, Claudia. She’s okay — I think.”

There was a pause from the dispatcher. Then she asked tentatively, “Michelle?”

“Yeah.” She leaned her head back on the lower cabinets as she tried to gain control of her breathing. “Frank Shaver’s wife.”

“Oh, God.” There was a clammer, the dispatcher speaking to someone else in the room. “We’re trying to get a hold of Frank now. Where have you been shot? I can give you some instructions on how to slow the bleeding.”

Michelle looked down at her leg again. Claudia had quieted down but refused to let go of her. There was a sizable amount of blood pooled beneath her. A water glass lay broken on the floor beside her. A bologna sandwich was spread all over the ground at her feet. Her head felt lighter than it should.

“In — Upper thigh.”

“Okay. I need you to get a towel or a t-shirt and wrap it tight around your leg. Can you do that?”

“I — I don’t think I can get up.” Michelle set the phone down on the ground and switched it to speaker-phone. Then she pulled Claudia’s head up to look at her. “Hey, Cloudy, I need you to do something for Mommy, okay?”

“No!” she cried, clinging to Michelle’s shirt tighter.

“Hey, hey.” Michelle forced her to look at her again. “I know you’re scared, baby. I’m — I’m scared too. Do you think you can be brave for both of us, though? Just for a few seconds?”

It took her a moment, but Claudia finally sniffed back the snot in her nose and nodded.

“That’s my girl.” Michelle smiled. “I need you to go to Mommy and Daddy’s room and grab one of the t-shirts off the floor, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Claudia nodded again and let go of her mother’s shirt. She put her feet down in the small pool of blood that had formed. Then she ran off down the hallway.

“Is your daughter getting the towel or shirt?” the dispatcher asked.

“Yeah. What should I — ?”

“You’re gonna take the shirt and wrap it around your leg where you think your wound is. Make sure to tie it tight to the point that it hurts. That should slow the bleeding down enough until the paramedics get there.” There was a pause. “Michelle, how far along are you?”

“Almost twenty-one weeks.” She could feel the sweat that had gathered on her brow, the way her eyes couldn’t seem to focus on anything. “We find out if it’s a boy or a girl soon.”

“Which are you hoping for?”

Michelle swallowed thickly. “Frank wants another girl — but I think it’s a boy.”

Claudia came running back into the kitchen with one of her dad’s t-shirts in her little hands. It was one of his old band t-shirts from the 90s that he loved. Michelle quickly took it from her and stretched it into a thin strip.

“Do you have something?” the dispatcher asked.

“Yeah. T-shirt.”

Michelle lifted her leg to get the t-shirt under it and felt a stabbing pain go down her leg and up her spine. She cried out at the feeling but quickly slung the t-shirt under her thigh before lowering it back down to the floor.

“Michelle? Can you hear me Michelle?”

“Yeah — I’m here. Hurts to — Hurts to move.”

She knotted the t-shirt at the top of her leg and pulled as tight as she could. The blood that had soaked into her pants squelched out as she pulled. She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut tight as she let go of the t-shirt. Her breaths came out in ragged pants as her entire leg was consumed in burning pain. When she opened her eyes, the world was rimmed with black spots that she knew weren’t a good sign. Her insides heaved. Her head swam.

“I think I’m gonna…” Michelle trailed off as she reached for Claudia.

“Hey, stay with me Michelle. Keep talking. Michelle, the paramedics are almost there. Stay with me…”

The dispatcher kept talking, but the longer Michelle listened, the further the sound of her voice got. The kitchen titled, blurred. The last thing she saw before a blackness overtook her was Claudia crying.

_______________________________________________________________________

Frank pulled up to the house with a screeching of tires. He killed the engine as fast as he could. Crime scene tape had already been put up across his front yard. Neighbors were gathered to see what was going on. He practically jumped out of the car and slammed the door shut behind him.

He should have been there. He should have been there. He should have been there.

“Out of the way! Out of the way!” Frank called ahead as he ran through the small crowd of people towards the house.

Michelle. There she was. Being wheeled out of the house on a stretcher. Oh, God, she looked so pale. She wasn’t awake. Frank’s heart stopped inside his chest. Came to a screeching halt as he ducked under the police tape and jogged over to his wife. This couldn’t have been happening. They lived in an okay neighborhood. Their neighbors were kind and weren’t involved in anything. He had checked and double checked before they even thought about moving into that house. That house that was now littered with bullet holes, the two windows in the front broken and the large potted plant Michelle had on the porch shattered.

Frank had seen some disgusting things during his time in the police force. Gunshot wounds, severed limbs, OD victims, grossly decomposed bodies. But nothing compared to seeing Michelle lying on that stretcher. Her jeans were soaked red. She had a t-shirt tied tightly around her left thigh. Her hands, limp at her sides, were coated in blood. Her skin was ghostly white. Frank felt like he was on his first case again. Sick to his stomach, far away yet right there at the same time. There was a ringing in his ears.

Claudia crying for him broke through all that though.

Frank watched Michelle get wheeled by and looked up to see his little girl in the arms of one of the paramedics. Squirming and reaching for him.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

“Claudia!” He sprinted across the sidewalk and pulled her from the paramedic’s arms. She immediately buried her head into his shoulder and squeezed him tight. He looked to the paramedic. “Is she hurt?”

“No, your daughter is fine.” The paramedic gestured for them to go over to the ambulance. “Your wife has a gunshot wound to the thigh — we think the bullet hit her femoral artery. She’s lost a lot of blood.”

“She gonna be okay?” Frank asked.

The paramedic looked back at him when they reached the ambulance. He was used to seeing that kind of face at a crime scene. That look that spelled bad news but a hopefulness if only for the family’s benefit.

“We just need to get to the hospital as fast as possible.”

Frank nodded before climbing into the back of the ambulance, Claudia still cradled in his arms. He kept his eyes trained on Michelle as he sat down. Her hair was down and brighter than usual in comparison to the dullness of her skin. She was wearing one of those headbands she had made herself out of one of Claudia’s old, ruined onesies. He should have been home. This never would have happened if he had just let the wild goose chase go. If he had just listened to his partner Landry. But there was something about this pill…It had to be connected to all the strange calls they were getting. The people who could do ubelievable things. It all had to be connected somehow. Somehow.

“Alright, let’s check on baby, shall we?” The paramedic sitting across from Frank grabbed a portable fetal doppler from one of the compartments.

Without even thinking, he reached out and took hold of Michelle’s hand. They were always so warm — motherly in the heat they produced. But now they were cold and slightly clammy. The dried blood on her fingers was coming off at his touch but he wouldn’t let go. Couldn’t let go.

He tried to ignore the thought as it invaded his mind. But he couldn’t help it. Fear, like a hand of ice, gripped his heart. Black tendrils of some frozen deep sea monster curled around his spine, his neck, cutting off the air in his lungs.

What if I lose her?

“Okay, heartbeat is a little slow. You’ve gotta real fighter coming, Frank.” He smiled at Claudia. “Just like big sister, I bet.”

That’s right — he knew this paramedic. He always seemed to be the one to show up to his crime scenes. They exchanged witty banter and discussed the Saints. His name was Brandon. Frank looked up at him now, unsure what expression was on his face. Did he look as scared as he felt? As lost? As pleading for them to do something to make his wife not look like that? Brandon smiled reassuringly.

“She’s gonna be okay, Frank.”

_______________________________________________________________________

He only asked her to senior prom after his best friend, Clayton, practically begged him to do it. She was friends with his date and girlfriend Melissa, so it made perfect sense for them to go together. Frank, who went solely by Frankie back then, had begrudgingly gone along with it. He didn’t even know her. Sure he had seen her around, they went to a small school, it was hard not to recognize someone in the hallways.

She was cute, he supposed. Bright red hair with a yellow tinge. Catcher for the softball team. Pretty quiet in the few classes they had together over the years. He’d never talked to her before. Then again, that didn’t mean she was anything special. He didn’t talk to any girls that weren’t dating his friends. Frankie was terribly awkward and shy around girls. Constantly fumbling over his words and running his fingers through his hair he would never admit he showed a picture of Leo Dicaprio in Titanic to get.

Frankie was shocked by the smile that overcame her face when he asked her. Stuttering and trying to sound as disinterested as possible cause he thought it was cool. She only nodded in agreement then ran off down the hall with Melissa. He stared after them with furrowed brows. Girls were so weird.

Then the night of prom finally came. Frankie and Clayton came to pick up the girls at Melissa’s house in Clayton’s dad’s brand new Mercedes-Benz E55 AMG. That was such a cool car and Clayton was terrified to get even a single scratch on it. Frankie rented a tuxedo for the evening, with a bowtie that he hated and his mom tried but failed to sit straight. He held the corsage he had picked up in the plastic box at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for the girls to come down from getting ready.

Melissa came down first. Frankie could hear Clayton sigh dreamily at the sight of her. Which made his face bunch up in disgust. She was wearing a green and yellow floral print dress with a matching shawl. Her hair was up with little wispy pieces framing her face. Frankie watched as the longtime couple met with anxious smiles and mumbled you look greats.

Michelle came down the stairs next. And Frankie had never seen someone so beautiful in all his life. She had left her hair down, seemingly untouched by any pins or curling irons. He liked it that way. Her dress was pink, floor length, with spaghetti straps holding it on her shoulders. When she got closer, he could see the little beads on the bodice of the dress and the way she had simply done in her makeup. In comparison, it made Melissa look like she was wearing a lot. It unnerved and awed him at the same time, her natural beauty and shy smile.

“Hi Frankie,” she said when she got to the bottom of the stairs.

“Hi — Hi Michelle.” He nearly dropped the box with her corsage in it. “You look — You look perfect.”

That wasn’t really the word he meant to say. But he stuck with it anyway. She did look perfect. Why hadn’t he talked to her before again?

She seemed to glance at Melissa and Clayton, too preoccupied with each other to notice anything else that was going on. Then she looked down at the plastic container in Frankie’s hands. “Is that for me?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” He popped open the container and pulled out the corsage. “Melissa said you like flowers a lot — so I uh — got something different.”

Was her face always that red?

The band of the corsage was made from a couple of those stretchy bead bracelets all stuck together and the flowers were fresh. He wasn’t sure what he was doing when he stepped into Donna’s Flower Shop that afternoon. The kind woman behind the counter had smiled at his discomfort and asked him about the girl he was taking to prom. Donna knew Michelle. She apparently came in all the time and took a few of Donna’s bouquet creating classes. Donna whipped something together in a matter of minutes.

White and pink magnolia blooms, these blue thistle looking things, and little pink flower buds. Frankie had never cared about flowers much, but he thought it looked pretty enough. He was already wearing his boutonniere, his mom having asked to pin it on his lapel herself.

“Do you like it?” he asked as he handed the corsage to her.

She smiled up at him and he could have sworn his heart beat faster in his chest. “I love it. Magnolias are my favorite, you know.”

The four of them took the customary pictures on the stairs and outside in front of Melissa’s house. Frankie made sure to give Melissa’s mom his own mother’s phone number so pictures could be shared once they were printed. Then they were off to the dance in the Mercedes-Benz.

Melissa and Clayton sat in the front while Michelle and Frankie sat in the back. It was about a twenty minute drive to the hotel the prom was being held at. The theme was enchanted forest.

“So, you’re on the wrestling team, right?” Michelle asked after a few minutes of sitting in silence.

Frankie cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah.”

“Is — Is it fun?” she asked with a skeptical face.

“No.” He laughed. “I’m glad the season is finally over.”

“Not gonna do it in college?”

He shook his head. “Nah. No.”

“Can’t blame you.” She shrugged. “The weigh-ins, the scrambling to gain or lose weight…Doesn’t sound very fun.”

“What about you — you gonna play softball in college?”

Michelle flushed and began to fidget with the band of her corsage. “Uh, no — I’m not going…I have an apprenticeship at Donna’s Flower Shop lined up.”

“Oh. That sounds cool.”

“Wish my parents thought so.” She turned her gaze towards the window almost in shame.

Frankie, on gut reaction, reached out and touched her leg reassuringly. But instantly retracted his hand once he felt the fabric of her satin dress. She didn’t seem to notice. “Hey, they’ll come around to the idea eventually.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” she sighed, “They don’t think my life is gonna go anywhere — just because I don’t wanna go to college. That I’m squandering my potential.”

“Well, I don’t think that.”

She looked away from the window and smiled at him. A small, genuine smile that brought a grin to his face. Michelle seemed cool and easy to talk to. Why hadn’t he talked to her before?

When they got to the dance, half of the school was already out on the dance floor. The lights were dimmed, high heels and suit jackets abandoned at tables. The photo station was set up in the corner of the hotel ballroom. Sprinkled with fairy lights and fake foliage to make it look like the enchanted forest that the night was supposed to be themed around. Melissa gave out a squeal of delight at the photo station that made Frankie jump, then she dragged Clayton in that direction so they could go take their photo. Michelle and Frankie trailed behind them, unsure of where else to go.

Melissa and Clayton took at least ten pictures together. Each one of them posed together holding each other close and smiling at one another. Frankie could feel his face get hot as he watched them. He glanced over at Michelle then behind him to the people forming a line. Would he have to hold her waist like that? Part of him wanted to, the other part of him didn’t know if she wanted him to and wasn’t willing to ask.

The photographer ushered them up to the station while Melissa and Clayton flipped through the automatic print outs.

“You guys want digital or polaroids?” he asked.

“Uh — “ Michelle looked at Frankie and he shrugged. “Polaroid is fine, I guess.”

“Hey, easier for me.” The photographer picked up the polaroid camera and pointed it at them. “Alright, sir, if I could have you stand behind your lovely date there — there you go and then put your hands on her waist. That’s it. And, ma’am, just put your hands on top of his. Great.”

Frankie felt hot everywhere. He was certain that the camera would be able to pick up how red his cheeks are. But Michelle, she felt relaxed in his hold. Leaning back into him with an air of casualness that made his breath hitch. Like she was meant to be there. He smiled, closed lipped, for the pictures. His hands strayed around her waist and hips as they walked off the enchanted forest set. Michelle smiled over her shoulder at him in a knowing way and he coughed as he fully let go of her.

The photographer handed them two polaroids that weren’t yet fully developed. Michelle shook her’s as they walked over to where Melissa and Clayton were waiting for them. In the photo, Michelle had her head tilted to one side, a smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. A piece of her fire-like hair was caught on his shoulder. He swallowed thickly as he stowed the polaroid in his suit jacket pocket.

For the majority of the night, they stood around and bobbed their heads to the music. A few other friends joined their circle, but it stayed relatively small in comparison to the pile of people closer to the DJ. A few slow songs came and went. Melissa and Clayton danced to every single one. Holding each other and pressing their foreheads together — kissing at the end of each song. Michelle and Frankie would give each other a knowing look, Michelle at one point wiggled her eyebrows which made Frankie burst out laughing. They talked and laughed throughout the night.

And Frankie had to ask himself, yet again: Why had he never talked to her before?

She was radiant, warm. Kind and humorous in a quiet way that often went unnoticed by people who weren’t looking for it. She was quiet in a way that complimented him well and she listened when he spoke. Something he couldn’t even find at home.

“Alright, this party is almost over,” the DJ announced which made the majority of the room break out into a chorus of boos, “So let’s play one last song for all those little lovebirds out there.”

The opening beats to “All My Life” by K-Ci & JoJo filled the ballroom. Frankie glanced over at Michelle. They had somehow split apart in their friend circle for the first time that night. He was on one side of the group with some of his friends from the wrestling team, while she seemed to be hovering on the outside of a group of girls he recognized from a few of his classes.

He took a deep breath. If he was going to be a police officer one day, he needed to have the courage to ask a girl to dance. She whipped her head around when he tapped her on her bare shoulder. Red hair smacked him in the face. He ignored it though.

“Do you, uh — You wanna dance with me?” Frankie jabbed his thumb over at the dance floor.

Michelle smiled and even in the dim light he could see her cheeks redden. “Sure, Frankie.”

“Cool.” He smiled and took her hand.

Their arms were stiff at first. Holding each other out at length and not daring to look one another in the eye. Okay, so maybe he didn’t have the courage to ask a girl to dance for a reason. But somehow, in a way that he couldn’t explain, it felt right. It felt good to be awkwardly dancing to “All My Life” at the senior prom with Michelle Richards.

Frankie felt her take a deep breath and her hands soften on his shoulders.

“Can I admit something?” she asked, eyebrows pinched together in concern, “And — it’s okay if you feel uncomfortable and wanna…Like, never talk to me again or something.”

“Uh — Okay, I’m scared now,” he chuckled nervously.

“So, I’ve had a crush on you for like, a year.” She rolled her eyes and stared down at his crooked bowtie. “And I…May have convinced Melissa to convince Clayton to convince you to…Ask me to prom.”

Frankie didn’t know what to say for a second. He didn’t think anybody would ever have a crush on him. He was awkward, gangly, a bit of a hothead, his ears stuck out funny (though his mom told him it was an endearing feature). But Michelle Richards, softball catcher and future florist, liked him.

“I wish you would’ve told me sooner.” He smiled and pulled her closer. “I’m glad you did that.”

_______________________________________________________________________

There was a beeping in her ears that annoyed her into being awake. Her face scrunched as she listened to it for a moment, her eyes still closed. God, that really was an aggravating sound. Did the fire alarm need it’s batteries changed or something? She could ask Frank to pick some up on the way home. Wait — was she just asleep? Was Claudia still sleeping from her nap? If she wasn’t, what kind of mess had she made? Michelle sighed as she opened her eyes just a crack, enough to see a blurred white tile ceiling.

That wasn’t her ceiling. But she didn’t pay much attention to that. She needed to check on Claudia. She moved to sit up and a dizziness, but not just in her head, in her whole body, took over. It kind of reminded her of the first time she and Frank smoked weed.

There were hands on her shoulders, easing her back down.

“Hey, baby — lay back down, alright? Try not to move too much.”

She pulled her eyes open more. Frank was standing over her. He had dark circles under red rimmed eyes.

“Mm — Frankie?” Michelle complied with laying back down, if only to make that weird feeling go away.

“I’m gonna go get the nurse, okay?” He let go of her shoulders and left the room.

Michelle was left to stare up at the ceiling, pondering. She was definitely in a hospital. Had she had the baby? She didn’t even know what the gender was yet. That was unfair. She didn’t even remember the last, and arguably usually the longest, weeks of her pregnancy.

Then it all hit her at once. The van. The running man. The shooting. Broken glass. Pain in her leg. Blood on the kitchen floor. Claudia crying.

Michelle sat up, her head swimming, and looked around the room. She couldn’t see Claudia. Only an empty bag of McDonald’s and an NOPD duffle bag. She continued to look around the room lazily, brain only half processing what was going on, until Frank came back into the room.

“Where’s Claudia?” she asked.

“My mom came and picked her up a few hours ago,” he said, moving to stand by her side.

She stared down at her lap for a moment. “I — I got shot.”

Frank’s head dropped and he seemed to take in a deep, pained breath. When he looked back up at her, there were tears in his eyes. He reached down and took her hand. “Yeah, babe, you did.”

“Is the — “ Michelle reached down and cradled her belly in one hand. “Is the baby okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sniffed. “Yeah — the baby’s fine.”

“Alright, Mrs. Shaver.” A young blonde nurse came into the room with a clipboard. “I’m Haley, I’m your on-call nurse. Now that you’re awake I’m just gonna do a check that everything is okay.”

She grabbed the clipboard from the end of Michelle’s bed and stacked it on top of the other one. Frank helped Michelle lay back down as he moved the bed to a sitting up position.

“Do you feel any pain?” Haley asked.

“No.” Michelle shook her head. “I feel weird…Like I’m a little high.”

“That’s the painkillers. The feeling will wear off in a little while. We’ll make sure your next dose isn’t as strong.” Haley scribbled on the clipboard. “Do you need any water or food?”

“Um, water would be nice.”

“Okay. I think that’s all I need. Your surgery went well. We removed the bullet and repaired your femoral artery. If all looks good tomorrow you should be released the following day.” Haley replaced the clipboard at the end of her bed and smiled. “I’ll be right back with that water.”

Michelle watched her leave with an absentminded stare. Two days in the hospital? What were they supposed to do with Claudia during that time? Who would take her to daycare? Would Frank have to take off work? She sighed heavily as she adjusted the blankets over her legs.

“No, no — I know that face.” Frank pulled a chair up beside her bed and sat down. “The fidgeting. Don’t worry about all that, babe.”

“But who’s gonna take care of Claudia?”

He gripped her hand earnestly. “I will.”

“But we can’t afford for you not to go work, babe.” Burning tears hit the backs of her eyes and in seconds they were dripping down her cheeks. “Especially with the new baby coming and now I’m here and you were so close to finding the source of that pill — “

“I actually wasn’t,” Frank mumbled, head tilted down, “That lead I had was a dead end. Landry said it…But I wouldn’t listen. I should’ve been home.”

“You being there wouldn’t have changed what happened.”

He looked up into her face then. A kind of intensity in his eyes that she rarely got to see. “I could’ve protected you. Made sure you were safe.”

“But I am safe.” She squeezed his hand and gave a soft smile of reassurance. “I’m safe now — with you.”

Frank sighed and dropped his head again. Pressing the backs of her fingers into his forehead. “I was so scared, Meesh.”

Michelle didn’t know what to say. She had been scared too. Was still scared even now. But Frank had never been one to get scared. Even during horror films he sat through them straight faced while she shoved her face into a pillow to hide from the monsters. When he came home from grewling shifts that she would hear about on the news he didn’t show an ounce of fear. Even though the reporters were talking about gunfire and chases, busts of massive drug rings where he could have easily been killed. Frank was a steady rock that reassured her that everything was always going to work out. That no matter what happened, they were going to be okay.

But to see her steady rock shaken in this way made her realize that maybe it had always been the other way around instead. That she was the thing that kept him standing in spite of his fear.

_______________________________________________________________________

Michelle fell back asleep after a while. Frank sighed long and hard as he watched her, listened to the heartbeat monitor reassure him that she was alright. He rubbed his hands over his face. God, he was so tired. He hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. His entire body felt heavy and worn down to the bone.

Just as his eyes began to slip shut of their own accord, his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. With a soft groan he pulled it out and saw that it was Landry calling. He took the call out in the hallway so as not to disturb Michelle.

“Hey, Landry, what’s up?” he asked as he slipped out of the room and moved down the hall to the vending machine.

Might as well get a snack while he was up.

“Hey, man, how’s Michelle doin?”

“She’s alright. Surgery went well. Resting now.” He surveyed the snacks available and decided he didn’t really want anything.

“Alright, cool, cool. Just let us know if you guys need anything.” There was a brief pause on the other end. “We found the van — crashed into an abandoned warehouse.”

Frank took a deep breath. “Any survivors?”

“Not that we can tell. Driver of the van died on impact and there was one other guy inside. Then — man, this is the crazy part — there’s one guy outside the van. Coroner says he died from severe blunt force trauma. Based on evidence collected at the scene this dude — this dude he ran through three walls, man. Brick walls.”

“He ran through them?”

“Yeah. Coroner also found some crazy shit in the guy’s system he’s never seen before.”

“Were there any of those pills on sight?” He leaned against the wall with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah — yeah. A few in the van. They don’t look like anything we’ve ever seen before, Frank. Something crazy’s going on. Want me to put this on hold till you get back?”

Frank could feel his jaw set. His fist clench at his side. If his years as a detective taught him anything, it was that these pills were the reason his house got shot up. The reason his wife was laying in the hospital with a bullet wound. He needed to get to the bottom of this to keep his family and New Orleans safe.

“Yeah. I’ll be back in a few days,” Frank said, “Let me know if you find anything else.”

And with that, he hung up.

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stronghours · 3 years

Text

SUNSHINE IN THE SKY REPRISE

And it came to pass, a few weeks after she and Jules made a bad decision on his thrifted futon, that they met again during 4th of July merrymaking.

Lux toddled in grey lake water among Ava, Claire, and Archie (Celeste down and out with summer flu). Lux couldn’t swim, a fact disclosed in private to Ava, which Ava hadn’t kept to herself, and the group formed a stooped, anxious ring around her doggy-paddling. She was forced, among the smell of hot dogs in the safe green grass hundreds of yards beyond and the ominous cloud cover above, to make sure only her ass whomped her protectors’ knees when the waves tried to boil her body up and away. She’d made a mistake, and her only wardrobe protection beyond her suit itself and her spandex underthing was a hastily added solid color sarong, which while dry didn’t match, and while wet, just looked lousy and modest. But she couldn’t be parted with it and had made up a past bout of minor skin cancer, a pin-mole insidiously located on her protected inner thigh, the paranoia of which haunted her still. Even Ava dropped her chin for the C-word.

Now she suggested Lux float on her back and allow her perception of the water to form fingers in the magic slot located on her lower back, and soon she’d be floating like crazy among the wacky kids and her hot workmates and her boss and all their invisible pubes. A wave slapped dirty fingers up Lux’s nose.

“It’s kind of like learning a language,” Archie contributed. “Got to learn it when you’re young. Looks like your parents fucking doomed you.”

“My pap pap slam-dunked me in our above-ground when I was five,” said Claire, who floated tummy-down in frog position by exerting no effort Lux could observe. “I bobbed right back up, but like, what if I hadn’t?”

Lux, six feet tall, decided to use it to her advantage and planted her knees in the sandbar. She could just about do it and keep her eyes and forehead in periscope position.

“Reuben and I are thinking of installing an above-ground,” said Ava, and seeing Lux shrink, rose to her feet and splashed water across her dewy collarbone. Lux pushed every single one of them out of her mind and stared between the chops out into the open sea to make-believe Michigan somewhere on the other side. A rhythmic slap approached from the left and the white bow of a lifeguard’s canoe sailed past their collected heads.

“Hey now,” scolded the familiar voice behind the sunglasses, “only three hot bitches are allowed in the water at a time. Think of the community.”

Ava sloshed around at the familiarity, but everybody else had already noticed it was, absurdly, Jules, and sent up a bunch of soggy greetings, all except Lux who rose into a semi-crouch in the drifting seabed out of surprise, and Ava, who let them all perform verbal recognition on her behalf and only spared a nod.

Jules looked very high school, very lanky on the bobbing bench, with the oars braced under his tanned arms and his cute red tank top cinched under his fanny pack. He rode the up-down of the surf the same way he did most things, with enough bored grace to suggest he’d learned quite enough and had more interesting things to do. Lux had recently learned this conceit of his could be bypassed, and she was glad he kept the sunglasses on when he looked her over.

“What’s up Cathy,” he said, with the same Sophomore carelessness, and she plunged her head under an oncoming wave, the pressure preferable to the dawning knowledge that now, he had information he could disclose, and he’d had it for weeks.

She rose again, squinting. She couldn’t tell if he had caught on.

“What?” he asked. “What did I do?”

“You got another job, Jules?” Ava surged forward, displaced Lux. “Roscoe doesn’t give you enough to do, on top of commissions?”

“Give me another commission and you’ll find out.” He drew the left oar’s pole hard under his titty to keep the nose of the canoe from slicing into their crescent. The mechanism bucked like a horse and the wind snatched the ugly white hat off his head and toward an oblivion of preteens due north. Claire yelped and threw herself into the water, rippled away to go fetch it. “You ever been in the cellar underneath Rawhide, Ava? That’s like, thrice-darkness. I was gonna kill myself.”

“I’ve never been in a situation that required me to be in the cellar underneath Rawhide.” Prim Ava glanced pityingly at Lux, who allowed wave after wave to pummel her head in her effort to stay low. “Poor baby. She can’t swim.”

“Throw her off the pier,” Jules suggested.

“It worked for Claire’s pap pap,” Archie said, and braced an annoying hand on the back of Lux’s neck. “Sorry babe, looks like you’re going down.”

Lux threw herself underwater before Archie could push her into the drink. Beneath the top swell she had enough time to touch her palms to the sand and try to dig her hands where she’d braced her knees, but she was blind, and the divots were washed away and the grains were swept off and replaced swept off and replaced, and she panicked when the water tugged the sarong’s knot. She resurfaced from the green and grey, coughing and yanking the weedy fabric around her legs. Ava, shining and petite against the sky, so securely tucked to smoothness, had finished with Jules herself and was high stepping back to shore.

“…I’m just saying, you should definitely try it out –” Archie had spoken in the interim. Jules was nodding. He’d shoved the sunglasses up and over his curly head and while his gaze was trained forward to take in the gamboling bathers, Lux could feel him keeping her in the corner of his eye.

She remembered being in good if overenergetic spirits. She recalled a hot yellow sun. She wore her lavender halter with the powder-blue culottes, her hair freshly hennaed from the night before and trustily bunned. She traveled from a three-hour duo with Ava regarding some mind-numbing bouts of predicament ropework that left her guiltily bored of the client and his ballerina snobbishness, but pleased with her improving knots, and with the fact she could at least trick Ava into thinking she was a viable rope top. She’d exited the bus prematurely and entered the sidewalk throng to burn through her constipated spirits, past a raucous patio partition of a dippy sport’s bar and collided with Jules himself, exiting.

It was like striking a human-size grasshopper. He recoiled, elbows up, and almost upset a busboy’s tray. She reared at his excess, ready to dive into the full indulgence of her insult. In the past year after the Annelise Petro incident she’d only seen him at a distance. Their last words, exchanged in close quarters within Jules’s car more than twelve months ago, had not been civil. He was much tanner than she remembered of him in previous summers. He’d filled out in the chest and shoulders. For a second, she could glimpse he’d gained some weird physical vitality – but as she observed, the color drained from his face. His shoulders slumped. He looked sick as a dog. She’d thought he was drunk.

She grabbed him by the shoulders and steered his head away from her. “Do not,” she ordered, “Do not fucking puke on me.”

He pulled himself straight but didn’t dislodge from her grip. “Don’t say anything,” he hissed, dirt-sober, and before she could make him clarify, a middle-aged couple loomed over his shoulders. The woman, a full six inches shorter than both Lux and Jules (it was just then Lux realized she and Jules were precisely the same height) sparkled nervously, trussed in Cubs blues.

“Oh Jules,” she said, “Who’s this?”

She was blond and ferrety, but in the man, Lux could see a sour and fleshy shadow of Jules’s own face and bearing. He looked at her with the same stern contemplation Jules had leveled on her in the past, and Jules presently, dead in the eyes, curled in on himself like a shrimp.

She’d inexplicably exited her rancorous ditch and stumbled over Jules in the no-man’s land of Blood Relatives. She wanted to, against all rational thought, shove him behind her back and put her arms out.

Instead, she reached a hand to the man (dad? Oh boy, what fun) and chirped, “Hi, I’m Catherine!”

And to the woman (mother? God in heaven), “don’t we just all love Jules!”

The woman shriveled with feeling that hardly looked like relief. The man gravely shook Lux’s hand, and she was pleased with his grip’s condescending pressure. Her body moved far ahead of her brain. She could see herself at distance, popping one toe behind her planted heel, one hip cocked, tits pushed out, but no further than her glowing smile. “And how do you two know each other,” the man said, said, explicitly did not ask. Neither man nor woman introduced themselves.

Jules, white-lipped, opened his mouth but Lux flowed over him. “2007,” she answered, “Leidermeister Playhouse, down in, uh, are you from around here? No? Well, Tinley-ish. Way down there. Spring musical. I was on playbill. And Jules was doing costumes for Pippin.”

For the first time, Jules treated her to the sweet sight of his smug, sick face struck totally dumb.

“Theater!” The woman bubbled. She put her hand on her companion’s meaty forearm, placating.

But the man was not letting her go without a fight. “Theater,” he said. “And what part did you play.”

She treated him to her glowing smile first (cracking, a little). If Jules had learned his own abysmal manners from these creeps, then he’d somehow made improvements on his own time.

“The Mother,” she improvised. “Of course.”

“Stepmother,” Jules piped up, at last.

It was all yadda-yadda to Lux, but the man finally checked the neon dial of his watch, gripped the woman by the elbow, said they would have to start taking pains for a cab if they wanted to catch the game in time. “Sure,” Jules said, though his permission hadn’t been asked, his advice unsought. “You’re not far away.”

“You call her and say you saw us, sir,” the man said. “She’ll expect it.”

Jules was too busy accepting limp patty-pats from the woman, who shot Lux a tragic grin before she scampered up the sidewalk, followed by the broad back of her presumed husband. No proper hug, no I-Love-You, no masculine head smacks or back whacks or take-care-of-yourself-you-hear pronouncements. They just walked away. Her own parents would be appalled.

The life was coming back to Jules’s face, but he was still doubled over, as if from a cramp. “Jiminy Christmas,” he uttered, and she wanted, in a surge, nothing more than to pinch his cheeks and trap his head in her armpit and noogie him to death and bust his fluff. Instead, she assisted him away from the crowd, and before long they strolled down a quiet residential street, arm in arm. She decided to give him five whole minutes to recover from the encounter, but he did it in two.

“Ledermeister,” he said to her, appalled.

“Leider,” she corrected.

“You nutty bitch,” he dared, but there was no gas behind it.

“It’s like you think I’m some kind of pervert or something,” she said, and before she could help it, she started to nag. “What did you think I was going to say? Jules makes rubber sex suits with built-in condoms? I saw him in street clothes in a high-etiquette dungeon fingering my boss’s twenty-one-year-old latex bottom?” She felt him up a little in her haste, accidentally, and he squeaked. “Who actually has something to lose here?” She asked. “Who’s the fucking dominatrix here?”

“You don’t like me,” Jules said, coolly. “I had no idea what you would say.”

He sounded terribly calm. The sidewalk was dappled in shadows of maple leaves and, boxed in by reasonable townhouses on both sides, she was inclined to stay calm as well, and in her calm, she found a strange truth.

“I like you just fine,” she said.

“Oh.”

She liked him just fine. She liked him more than she liked Ava.

They walked.

“God, it’s fucking hot,” she said. It would be more comfortable not to have their arms around the other, but she didn’t unlatch.

“I moved to this neighborhood a couple weeks ago,” he said. “We’re not too far. I’ve got a window unit.”

A window unit meant he’d accumulated an actual window; a net gain from what she remembered of the dismal basement unit she’d ducked inside three times over their three year acquaintance, along with a damp cement strip notating the kitchen and two hoary pipes jutting six inches from the ceiling where tawny water dripped into provided buckets and Jules himself, barefoot, crisscross applesauce on a carpet square stringing the hundredth of ten-thousand waiting bugle beads with one or two local drag queens, staring open mouthed at a small, shit television propped up on a pile of clean laundry encased in a garbage bag, and onscreen a shoulder-padded daytime soap actress made lines like “there’s nothing to worry about Blake – do you really think I’d expose the Nazi treasure to outsiders?”

“Yeah, let’s,” she said.

He’d found a squat, orangey building with collapsed flower beds out front and only the faintest smell of weed in the halls. She noted, vain, that he opened the doors for her and motioned her up the stairs first and it wasn’t until she’d reached the top landing of the third floor, and he was sorting out keys that she felt the pluck of that old sexy situation, which was Going Inside a Boy’s Apartment, something she hadn’t done since college, and even at that time, something that usually happened under the close watch of protective friends. She couldn’t eye him either, to see which way his intentions were shifting – he was already eying her – but then he let her inside and the feeling was wiped out by absurd, maternal relief.

“Oh, thank God,” she blurted out. “This is so much better.”

The place still smelled like paint and floor wax, and she walked about at her leisure, touching the walls, and flapping her arms, knowing she wasn’t going to crash into a spiderweb or trod on mummified centipedes. The only furniture yet was a pulled-out futon (he was a bedmaker, who knew) and the walls had been built out to delineate a kitchen. She lifted the back of her shirt to the air conditioner.

“I thought you were an idiot for accepting that place, before,” she told him, regarding the old basement. “Or you’d picked it to antagonize people on purpose.”

“Give me a break! I was broke. I was nineteen.”

He shed one flip-flop on his way to the kitchen. She watched it prone on the floor while she calculated.

“No, no,” she reminded him. “When we first met, Ava said you were twenty. We were in a bar. She made you duck under the table when the bouncer made rounds. You were illegal.”

“Nuh-uh,” he said, unevenly thwap-thwapping back to her. He handed her a beer. “I was here a whole year before you showed up. I came before you.”

He sat on the edge of the futon, and she considered that perspective as he scratched the back of his shin with his bare foot. He had long, narrow feet, and when he was looking at things that weren’t people looking back at him, his eyes tended to glaze over. He was looking at the blank wall.

“Hold up,” she said. “How old are you now?”

“Old enough for you to sit next to me,” he replied.

It didn’t mean anything, coming from him. She left her beer on the windowsill and sat next to him. He’d have to get a nicer bed at some point, she thought, bouncing up and down a little, and wondered if, all along, his manners and his living situation pissed her off so much not because, as she initially believed, they were representations of his obnoxious personality, but because she had been frightened that he was going to get hurt and clearly no one else around was going to warn him otherwise.

“You must have left your parents pretty quick,” she said.

“That was my aunt and uncle, just now.”

“Were they more fun when you were growing up?”

“My grandma raised me,” he said. “For eight years. Then we swapped.”

She unfastened her sandal straps and tried to dream up a guess about him that could possibly be correct, but she had the feeling if she said raised in a house? He’d go no, in Mr. Toad’s canary-colored caravan, and the woodland squirrels taught me how to sew, and I lost my virginity to Morlocks. She wondered if she was the first girl he’d ever brought up here. She wondered if his aunt and uncle already knew he was gay. She wondered if he was gay. And in her wonderings, she missed, at first, his growing impatience beside her. He touched her hand; she accidentally flipped her right sandal underneath the futon.

“Crap,” she said.

He rolled his eyes and slid to the floor, slipped between her legs, and with one cheek pressed to her thigh he rooted one armed underneath the springs and came out with the sandal, which he deliberately tossed several feet away. He came up on his knees, face lifted to hers, and she had to spread her own knees to accommodate him. His stern little expression was very cute, and she was warm with pleasant condescension, something sorely missing from her and Ava’s ropework that afternoon. She was tired of art, she decided, ignoring Jules’ cold hands creeping up the back her shirt, and she was tired of fantasy and she was sick of endurance feats physical and mental, and she was tired of her own cowardly communication, so much so the tiny bubble of unearned pride she felt for Jules’s ability to maneuver himself into the positions he required ballooned, out of control, into an old familiar cocoon where she couldn’t hurt him and he couldn’t hurt her.

“Nobody knows,” he told her, perhaps feeling it too. “But I can be a good boy.”

Jiminy Christmas, indeed. But he couldn’t have her for cheap, and he clawed her spine too confidently. She put her palm to his left cheek, let her thumbnail scrape over a pale divot where it looked like the nap of a paint scraper had teased out a pill of his flesh, years ago.

“Listen,” she asked, and squeezed his ribs with her knees. “If you had met me while I was with relatives, and I looked scared about it, what would you have done?”

His fixed gaze skittered to the side, over the wall, across the floor, and while he didn’t retreat, he only spoke up when his face reached a zenith of clumsy guilt. “I would have fucked around with you first,” he admitted. “Only a little.”

“I thought so,” she said, and smacked him a nasty one across the face.

With no furniture around, the crack resonated. Jules took it open-eyed. He didn’t whine or argue and only clenched his jaw a couple seconds after, when the real pain hit. He faced her again, glowing and pink, his left eye watering. She couldn’t help it. She grabbed his head and squeezed and clawed and palpated, yanked his lamby hair, perfect for yanking, and beat his butt with her heels. His head thrashed and his hands flapped around behind her back. She seized one and forced it down on the blanket and let the other undo her halter knot while she bridled him with her free thumb. His back molars rose on the edges in sharp ridges, and she whirled her wrist under his chin until she could see him swallow from the inside. The whites of his eyes showed.

“Good boy my ass,” she said, to herself, but he heard and appeared wounded. “Okay, okay,” she conceded. She wiped her thumb on his face, forgave him silently, and even her playful meanness disintegrated. He crawled over her lap and rubbed his red-hot face in her shoulder, gnawed painlessly on her clavicle. His shorts stuck out in front.

She knew a hundred ways of positioning and a hundred more roleplay scenarios he’d probably accept without suspecting she used them not to her pleasure, but to protect her modesty. She was sick of it all, hadn’t fucked or been fucked properly since she’d been his age, and was horny enough to maim. She took him again by the shorthairs along the nape of his toasted neck, and when he sighed down her back, she pressed his hand to her groin.

“Feel,” she ordered.

He felt dopily, paused, and resumed. Squeezed. Offered no comment.

“Tell me what that is,” she said.

He had delicate ways when he had enough patience to reveal them. Without asking permission he slipped a hand down her waistband, far between her legs, far too quickly for her to chase him off, and by the time she felt him properly, he held her so the head nestled in the heel of his hand, wedged against the meat of his thumb. He felt her up against the underside vein of his silky wrist.

“That’s the cock that’s gonna fuck me,” he answered, correctly.

She had condoms in her purse. He had Vaseline in a bric-a-brac moving tub besides the futon. He rolled onto his narrow tummy, and she flipped him onto his back again so fast he nearly rolled off the mattress. She wished, as she watched him raise a knee and finger himself, that she’d brought her toolkit with her from the club where she kept her nitrile gloves and her fancy salves and her more mobile toys. Jules laid himself out on the futon like somebody else would on a beach, languid and comfortable and she pressed one of his nipples with impatience. She suspected he’d be chatty, but he didn’t speak at all during the preliminaries. He had more body hair than she would have expected, but not enough to grab, and a severe bathing suit tan line that reminded her of Ava’s jabs about the minor gossip between him and Roscoe. She wondered if some queen paid him to lay out on a patio somewhere, if that kind of arrangement still happened, and she wondered if he could let go of the sniping and the attitude long enough to show that hypothetical crowd what he was showing her now – that he was, actually, a very good boy.

When he was ready for her, the very good boy reached out with his arms (and made gimme-gimme clutches with his hands). She obligingly sank on top of him, then, quicker than she intended, into him, guided by his hooked shin and a decisive hand on her ass. She clawed his scalp and arched, involuntarily driving herself forward. A telltale sensation like he’d dumped a bucket of his own blood over her head soaked her from head to toe, and for a hot second she thought it was too late – then he jerked one her nipples until she shrieked and came back to him, stunned.

You’ve got more than that in you, she heard him say, through the haze in her brain, and in between two blinks he swapped out the sadist faunlet for, once again, being her very good boy, and he undid her bun with one hand and guided her head so he could kiss her mouth and calm her down. She saw from above his legs lock around the small of her back. She was shocked she could get hard enough to effectively penetrate, a shock that blissfully vaporized as she rocked inside him.

His own cock, which they mutually ignored, was restrained by her soft stomach. Her breasts ached, pressed against his chest, and she had to break free from his clasp to prop herself on her forearms. He followed her, licked her lips until she gave up and sank back down. The tip of his nose was cold against her cheek. She could feel his lashes and the curve of his eyeball roam around in the socket. He was a ferocious and intent kisser, not nearly so languid now, and every goosebump outside his skin and strand of muscle beneath rose to her, encased her in his prickles. His focus made her quite aware of a separation between her hips (melted, as far as she was concerned) and her brain, electric-bright now, entertaining Jules by turns as a barbed, poisonous plant, as a nuzzling, brainless creature, as a mean bottom slut who clawed her bottom and held her hair in a knot in his fist, who maybe needed to be exercised as a handler would a spirited pony, in order to nurture his kindness, improve his manners, and keep his juices fresh – and she giggled involuntarily, a tight muscle in her back relaxed, and she came inside a boy for the first time.

She either made an unacceptable noise, or a had been making noises all along. A downstairs neighbor ratta-tat-tatted their ceiling, Jules’s floor. Practical as a fillet knife, Jules pushed her out of his ass, swung one leg wide, slammed his heel rudely against the floorboards, uttered “fuck off, asshole” then rolled back to her again and rubbed his face between her breasts. She cuddled him a couple tender seconds, which he tolerated, before scuttling backward and regarding her from a lucid distance as she disposed the condom.

“Come back here, she said. He looked like a praying mantis.

First, he stuck his legs off the thin mattress and with one judicious sweep of his torso, seemed to crack every bone in his body. Then he crawled over and allowed himself to be held.

“Oh,” she noticed. “You didn’t come.” His dick was still hard, and when he laid his back flat against her hip, it bobbed due west of his belly button.

“Relax, it doesn’t always happen for me.”

She ignored him and let her ego propel her forward. He reclined on her like she was a chaise and breathed through his nose.

“You know what Ava calls you?” She asked, jerking him onward and upward, hopefully.

“I’m a community opportunist,” he answered smugly. “Plus, Roscoe’s houseboy.”

Two out of two, verbatim. She drew her nails up and down his stomach and he twitched, fought against curling up. “Houseboy,” he repeated, hissed. “The last houseboy passed away in the fucking nineties. They peeled him down with the wallpaper.” She felt, through his spine, how he tried and failed to work up a temper. “Then they tatted his chalk outline above some burlesque artist’s John Willie tramp stamp. Mistress Avalon sure is concerned with faggot business.”

“Your boys don’t make you come?” She asked, a hill over him now, and above arguing. He sparred solely with himself.

“What boys? These guys – big guys –”

She went back for more Vaseline, not great for this kind of thing, but she was getting the idea Jules had a sensible nursery spirit and rarely abused himself. He didn’t appear to know much about his body and froze like a striker frame when she rolled the tip of him in her palm for more than fifteen seconds.

“– They think your asshole is your only sex organ,” he continued. “They hate themselves for loving twinks. And then they give you the reach around and if you aren’t wet like pussy then oh-h-h-h my god, it’s like the fucking sky is falling –”

She sat up, and his feet paddled the blanket to stay in contact. He reached behind her and grabbed her hair again but didn’t pull. He turned his face into her neck, and he shook all over.

“Being a slut is really hard,” he said, woefully, failing to hide, for a millisecond, the ghost of what might have been a sweet kid. Or it was her imagination. Either way, she made him come all over himself. It didn’t seem to register to him until the drops hit his chest. He looked down at his sad, wet dick and then back up at her, so testily she laughed in his face. He was smudged pink all over from her lipstick, and she pinched his springy cheeks.

“I’m a cradle-robber,” she declared.

“Okay, Methuselah,” he said, unimpressed, and darted away into the dirty ivory bathroom before she could slap his ass.

He recovered rapidly. In the sunny room things took a slumber party turn. He fetched her abandoned beer, dug out makeup wipes he inexplicably possessed, and repaired the damage to her makeup. He berated her when she couldn’t stop giggling.

“I was kind of wondering…” he began.

He paused. Sex had made him tactful.

“Go on,” she allowed.

“I was wondering if I’d ever figure out why you bothered being a dominatrix.” He used the point of his little finger to clear wet black scuzz from the corner of her eye. She hardly felt it. “Ava’s got her thing about being top dog. Claire’s a sadist. And somebody needs to get around to neutering Archie before he starts spraying the furniture. You, a mystery.”

“You think about me!” She preened and wiggled.

“You go on.”

“I like,” she confided, “to strap muscle hunks to the pommel horse and tickle them until they scream.”

“Gee whiz.”

“I like straitjackets, but I don’t like rope,” she continued. “And I like floggers, but not single-tail whips. And I like human furniture, but not human ashtrays.”

“The Marquis de Lux over here.”

He’d reached around and started French-braiding her hair. She put her ear to his chest and found his mousey heart.

“My mom and dad were angels,” she continued. “And my sisters were angels and my aunts and uncles and my grandparents. They were angels from the start. So was I. I liked it. Doctors like it too. When a kid is angelic, and very, very, very, very good, and says the right things, and rolls over. They give you what you need.” She thought that over. “They decide to give you what you need,” she clarified. “I was rolling over constantly. I didn’t know how to stop. It freaked me out.”

Jules’s heart answered wug-wug-wug. He sat in her lap and tried to get her braid to stay fixed in a twist. “See, I’m the opposite,” he said. “I’m a huge cunt, but I’m always looking for an excuse to be nice.”

Her hair unwound down her back. He clamped her bobby pins between his teeth, to deliberately make the job harder, then, looking down in their laps, spit them on the floor. And as quickly as she decided she needed to find her clothes and depart, having revealed too much, she stayed the entire night.

On the lifeguard pavilions, the green flags were lowered, and yellow flags were handed up.

“Archie,” said Jules, from the safety of the canoe, “Head on back to dry land. No! no,” he called when Archie took Lux’s elbow. “Cathy and I need to talk really quick.”

“It’s not safe,” Archie said.

“I’m Red Cross certified,” Jules said, arms outspread up the oars as far as they could go. “I’m a beautiful heroine, waiting to happen. Also, I’m in fucking charge.”

“Go away, Archie,” Lux agreed, and Archie slopped to the shore, his broad back damp red in the sun’s undergrowth. Dark clouds approached from the west.

“Actually, that’s my boss.” Jules pointed to the sand straight ahead, where a bronzed ingenue, her thigh muscles sticking out like bread loaves, appeared to be watching the duo intently.

“You’ll get in trouble,” Lux cautioned.

“She wants to ride me hard and put me away wet, I think I can get away with it. I feel like you must have,” he added, pointedly. “She’s nineteen.”

It was hard to glare when wet, and it was hard to talk with Jules high and dry. Lux was clammy and clingy, and she couldn’t understand why he sniped at her. Then he crouched down, chest to knees, under pretext of scraping the oars straight down his gunwales and snapped, with pure, guileless annoyance: “Why are you pissed off? I’m the one who should be mad.”

That was too much to bear. “Jules –”

“I showed you my hole and said call me.” He straightened, the little snot, sincerity evaporated. “And you didn’t call me. Now I feel cheap.”

“Jules,” she said, sticking to her own path. “They don’t know.”

“Of course, they don’t know!” He said, clueless, if technically correct. “I didn’t think you’d spread it around to that crowd.”

“Shut up, Jules,” she tried again, and when his mouth opened automatically, she really blew. “Shut the fuck up!”

He shut the fuck up.

“They don’t know. They don’t know.”

She refused to say anymore. She wasn’t in the mood to roll over. Funny, how fucking a guy in the ass could spackle over a few of the gaping holes in her dignity. Patiently, she watched Jules rock to-and-fro, his face oscillating between his premature certainty and the vanishing tail of what she was trying to explain. Then he exclaimed, “huh!” and raised his face to the heavens.

Whistles sounded north and south, and one of his canoe companions raced twenty yards past, churning the creaming waves to reach the point to disembark. Jules ignored it all.

“Oh.” He started, blank-faced. “There’s bossola.”

He waved to the girl on the beach, who was really putting her back into her whistle. “Jesus, baby,” he said just as abruptly to Lux, who had been forced to retreat a few feet to find higher ground. “Now I’m really starting to worry.”

It was either of their guesses, as to what situation he was talking about. Lux wasn’t sure herself, and doubted he knew. His confusion reminded her less of him now, more of him the morning after, when she’d woken up, found him sitting bolt upright, staring at the walls of his clean, sunny studio. He’d turned to her bleary face, and with no confidence whatsoever, asked, Is it really so much better?

“You want to climb up?” He asked now. “I’ll tell boss you have a cramp.”

“No, I can make it by myself.” She strolled backwards, ass out of the water, and twisted the sarong in front.

“I told Roscoe I fucked a girl for the first time,” he called to her, his eyes cast demurely downward. “You should have seen the sweat roll down his back.”

“I’ll call you,” she promised.

“Yeah, you better,” he advised, and shielded his face against the bursting spray. “Before someone else does. Ladies love the canoe.”

One perky heave-ho, and he displaced bow and stern, fixed his little craft perpendicular to the beach, and cast off toward the pier.

On the beach, Archie and Claire scuttled in the sand, packing their bags, and shaking out their towels. Claire held Jules’s rogue, soaked hat. “I was going to swim back over, but she yanked me out,” she explained, and pointed out Jules’s bossola, who had, watching Lux emerge from the dirty waters, eyed her face, eyed her cleavage, and continued stalking down the shore. She had an ass that needed to be seen to be believed. Lux hoped Jules wouldn’t tease her too much. She might call him sooner, to demand that exclusively. Possibilities, vistas, scenarios, she thought of all these and wrapped her towel around her waist, and she faced the dreary city skyline and she dreamed, and the full force of her imagination asserted itself.

“I’ll give it to him when I see him next.”

Domme Lux took property of the hat.

Ava, ever watchful, caressed their folded umbrella. “I thought you and Jules didn’t get along,” she said. Deliberately did not ask. Lux, in that moment, didn’t care. It wasn’t her job to teach Ava manners.

“I like him just fine,” she said.

#SAFEWORLD #intimacies; ambiguities; a twunk in a boat #beautiful friendships have been sprung for less #isn't particularly relevant but this takes place in 2009

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tintinwrites · 4 years

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that reminds me of you too | Poe Dameron x Reader

A/N: idk I was told this was good to post lol

Rating: M-ish? 18+

Warning: Naughty words. Sexual content. Alcohol. Poe pees idk.

Word count: 1,190, apparently!!

Summary: You and Poe sleep together during a drunken night even though you’re only friends, and you think it’s best to cut him out of your life.

GIF credit: I have no idea, but it’s not mine.

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

It took a couple moments upon waking for you to remember the events of the night before.

But when you noticed the weight of an arm across your waist, squirmed at the tickle of the curls as the owner of them nestled his face between your shoulder blades, the memories came to you quickly despite your inebriated state at the time.

You and Poe, getting together at a bar near your work like usual, but maybe having more beer or shots than you usually would.

The sexual tension that had always been simmering somewhere beneath the inside jokes, the teasing, the tight hugs, the never-ending support of each other’s relationships because that’s what good friends did; the sexual tension you both were happy to bury deep if it meant keeping your close relationship, was brought front and center by the dizzying alcohol.

You’d inched closer and closer together until Poe was on you and the table was digging into your back and his tongue was thrusting into your mouth and the bartender told you that you needed to ‘get a hotel for that shit’.

You opted for Poe’s apartment which was only a couple blocks away and you had the best night you’d ever had with a man.

Which was going to be the demise of your beautiful friendship.

How would you ever be able to be normal and look each other in the eye with where Poe’s tongue had been? Where your hands groped?

Maybe your plan to sneak out and ignore all his calls was a little bit childish, but you couldn’t bear your friendship crumbling into an awkward mess and then you would slowly stop hanging out anyway.

Weren’t you doing him and yourself a kindness by cutting the relationship off completely rather than letting it fade away over time?

You realized as you slowly began wiggling out from under Poe’s arm that you smelled like last night.

Two rounds of sex and giving and receiving oral were not scents that you wanted to walk to your apartment with.

You grabbed your phone from where your drunk self had kindly put it precariously on the edge of the nightstand, seeing that it was early enough that Poe wouldn’t be getting up for a little bit and you would be able to get away with using his shower.

You slowly moved away to let his hand slide the rest of the way off your body, fearing that letting it drop to the mattress would wake him up, and you rolled somewhat gracefully to the floor.

The bathroom was across from his bedroom in the tiny hallway, and you shut the door softly to muffle any noise before turning the water on.

You took a moment to let the water warm up a little, shaking your head with a little smile as your eyes scanned over the words ‘GET NAKED’ displayed in bold, black letters on his shower curtain.

Of course, you were already completely naked as you stepped under the slightly-too-hot stream of water.

You allowed the water to soak your hair and body then grabbed Poe’s bottle of shampoo, staring at the name of the scent; you’d bought it for him for his birthday, telling him that it was what all men should smell like.

You’d become used to his wonderful scent whenever you were sitting close or hugging that you’d almost forgotten that you bought it for him, but he didn’t forget.

Fuck, you were going to miss him.

Pushing your thoughts aside, you squirted a bit of shampoo into your palm and lathered it into your hair, ducking under the water to rinse it out.

His body wash was the same scent and you took a good inhale of it before you began scrubbing it onto your body, paying extra attention to the parts you knew had gotten a little sweatier from your fun with Poe.

At some point you closed your eyes and let the droplets beat onto your face like it could wash away the night and the pain of destroying your friendship, but you quickly opened them again when you heard the click of the door opening.

A familiar silhouette passed by the curtain.

“Poe?” You almost wished it was a prowler.

“Hold on, I’m peeing.”

You let out a loud laugh at the sound of the toilet lid slamming into the tank. “You’re gross.”

Fuck, you were going to miss him.

His face, his humor, hugging him every time you saw him, having someone in your life that was comfortable enough to pee with you in the same room.

Your laughter turned into a gasp, though, when the shower curtain opened and Poe stepped in casually.

“What are you doing?!” You were covering yourself more out of instinct than anything since he’d already seen you quite intimately already.

“Washing off the sweat and jizz like you.” He moved under the water with a raised eyebrow at your rush to press against the shower wall.

You watched him wash his hair in silence for a long moment, wringing your hands a bit nervously. “Isn’t this awkward now?”

“S’What awkward now?” He rinsed the suds out of his hair.

“Us? Our friendship? Multiple parts of you have been inside me. I think maybe that might ruin the purity and lightheartedness of our friendship.” Was it possible that the drain could like, suck you in or something like that?

“I think it makes it greater.”

“You...what?”

He gestured for you to stand in front of him and you complied with an air of confusion, gasping as he pressed into your back, knees buckling when he reached between your legs. “Last night I had some really good sex with this girl and I’ve never felt more comfortable in my life. She knew me well. No judgment, listening when I told her what I liked. I always thought she was pretty, never thought she’d thought of me. But she did. And, fuck, I loved making that pretty, little mouth fall open when she came all over my face and it made me love her even more.”

You hummed, leaning into his body and opening your legs a little for his fingers.

“Look, you can leave if you want. If you regret it—”

“I don’t.” Your answer was quick, Poe smiling against the back of your head as he pressed a kiss there.

“Alright, then let me continue with how I want to go further with you. Even if further is only us being friends and fucking when we’re bored. Or if you wanna be, like, romantic and all that, I’m down. I don’t want a life without you if you think this ruined our friendship.”

“Maybe we could see what happens to us naturally if you promise to keep touching me like that?”

Poe laughed and you were very much aware that you would have missed that sound too much if you ran away from him.

You’d started that morning assuming he would want to end your friendship and here you were, with his hand between your legs, only eager to make your relationship into something more.

#poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #star wars imagine #poe dameron fic

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thebrotherssalvatore321 · 3 years

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Keeping Secrets Ch. 37

Keeping Secrets Masterlist

Katie woke up to find herself standing on black marble covered in an inch of water that she was somehow on top of. A sky of black hung over her head. Not the beautiful kind speckled with bright stars, but a glossy, inky darkness that caused her chest to tighten.

As she stood up she saw that she was wearing a plain white long sleeved off the shoulder cotton dress that flowed down to her feet. A child’s laughter drew her eyes down into the water to see that a thousand shards of glass were scattered around her feet. The laughter came from one of the shards and she looked down to see within it a little boy around seven or eight with blond, bowl cut hair and innocent green eyes running through the woods.

As Katie reached down to pick up the shard, the little boy jumped, popping out of the glass as the vast darkness turned into a bright forest that smelled of pine needles and warm soil. She didn’t know why, but the scent made her feel at home. “Don’t be scared Momma, it’s just me.”

“And you are…?”Katie asked with a frown.

“Fun.” The little boy bounced on his feet, full of energy. “Wanna play hide and seek?” he asked, perking up with a smile.

“No. What I want is to know where the hell I am.” Kate told him then looked around them.

“Hey!” the boy picked up a pine cone and threw it at her chest. “No swearing.”

Katie leaned down to look the little boy in the eyes. “Look, you little brat, I don’t know who you are and I don’t care. I just want to get out of here.”

The boy glared at her. “Be nice!” he ran off making Katie run after him. “Nanna nanna boo boo. I can outrun you.” the boy sang as he ran. Something about the phrase made Katie start laughing as she caught up to the boy and scooped him up in her arms.

“I remember you now.” Katie told him as she made a claw motion with her hand and attacked his stomach, making him giggle from her tickling him. “Hello my sweet little Jonah.” She told him as she set him down then kneeled down in front of him.

“Hello momma.” He told her as he placed his little hand on her cheek with a smile. When she smiled back he evaporated into a mist that swirled around in the air forming a bright yellow ball. It sank into her chest causing a feeling or motherly love, caring and compassion overtake her.

With him gone the forest faded away and she was back in the dark place, standing in the center of the shattered glass again. “Phasmatos Tribum,” Katie heard someone say and looked down at a piece of glass to see a beautiful almond skinned woman standing at a table in the bedroom of an old Irish homestead, working a spell. This time as Katie reached down for the glass, she got sucked into it and she found herself sitting on a bed while another, slightly younger woman that looked a lot like the woman working the spell, pressed a cloth to Katie’s back making her hiss in pain.

“Sorry.” The young girl told her. “Someone needs to show that man how it feels.”

“Fiona.” The woman working the spell snapped at the young woman. “Mind your tongue. If someone should over hear you it will be you on the receiving end of that whip.”

“Yes mother.” Fiona told her quietly. Fiona finished cleaning the wounds then sat down on the bed in front of Katie. “Hannah, promise me when we get old enough we will leave this place, both of us. I know you do not want to live under your fathers thumb forever and I don’t either. Promise me that when you find a good man you will take me with you.”

Katie had been sitting quietly on the bed, trying to remember this and when she looked into Fiona’s dark brown eyes she did. She remembered that when she married Ronan she stole money from her father’s office and ran with Ronan. They used the money to start Fiona’s shop in the town they moved to. “I promise, Fiona. You’re my best friend. I wouldn’t dare leave this place without you.”

Fiona wrapped her arms around Katie who wrapped her arms around her first best friend’s shoulders feeling friendship and loyalty sink into her and when she opened her eyes she was back in the black place.

“Okay I see what’s going on here. These pieces are me, I’m a mother and a friend.” She said looking around at the shattered glass around her. “This is going to take a while.”

“Not as long as you might think, Doormat.” A voice came from one of the pieces and Katie looked over to see a woman pop up from the floor, joining her in the black place.

Katie looked at her, taking in her blond hair streaked with red, pulled back in a Vikings ponytail. A leather corset with buckles covered her torso while a leather Viking’s skirt wrapped around her hips. There was a fire in her eyes and a spear in her hand. “Why are we still here? Aren’t you supposed to take me to a memory or something?”

“I’m not a memory, I'm a feeling.” The warrior told her with a voice full of strength. “But if you insist on memories…here.” The woman walked across the water with an eye roll and plopped her hand down on top of Katie’s head. Katie telling Alaric about Mayor Lockwood abusing Tyler, telling her grandfather off and telling Elena off when Caroline made them all have a sit down flashed through her head. The last memory was Katie fighting the werewolves that were holding Caroline hostage in a camper.

“You’re my fight, my strength to keep going.” Katie said as she lifted her eyes. “My inner warrior.”

“You often forget I exist and quite frankly I’m tired of it. You need to learn to be a big girl and pull yourself up by your bootstraps if you have to. We’re stronger than you think we are.” She told her and Katie swallowed hard. “And if we’re going to survive in this hard world you need me.” she held her hand out to Katie who grabbed it and gave it a shake. The warrior pulled her into a hug and sank into her filling Katie with strength and power. Most of the other shards of glass floated up, turned into a big ball of mist that floated over her head then dropped, filling her with all the memories she had lost when she shattered.

After she absorbed it all she looked down at the last, large piece of glass and picked it up to see within it an auburn haired woman in a black, form fitting tank top, short black shorts and thigh high stiletto boots standing in the middle of a street as a man strolled past, the woman grabbed him around the neck and spun him around for Katie to see his face, he was an older man, too tan and too buff for his age. It was her grandfather. The woman’s eyes turned red and fangs appeared in her smile before she bit his neck, killing him before she tossed him to the side giving Katie an unforgiving smile.

Katie watched from an aerial view as people came to the woman as if drawn to her like flies to a honey. Each of them were either drained of blood or got their hearts ripped out. The last person to come to the woman was a little girl that looked no older than six and a man. Fear was clear in the girls little eyes as she watched the woman rip out the man’s heart. The dark ruthless girl placed it in the girls hands making the girl scream and run. The woman looked up at Katie and hissed, showing off the blood on her fanged mouth and the veins under her red eyes.

With a hard face and fight surging through her she threw the glass away from her like a throwing star. The glass stopped in mid air a few feet away from her and materialized into the haunting, monstrous version of herself. She reeked of anger, hatred, danger and most of all an overpowering thirst for human blood. “I won’t accept you.” Katie told her.

The dark, terrifying woman whooshed over to her grabbed her by her neck and body slammed her into the granite. “Then you…will die.” Her words came out as an angry growling hiss.

“No.” Katie brought her feet up and kicked her in the chest sending her flying through the darkness. Darkness landed in what Katie called the superhero landing and skid backward splashing water up around her. Katie flung herself up and held her fists in front of herself.

“You think you can survive without me?” Darkness asked as she whooshed back over and threw a punch that Katie dodged.

“I will be better off without you.” Katie told her, making her laugh.

“Look at yourself.” Katie looked down at herself to see she was now wearing a white ribbed racer back tank top, jeans shorts and black and white converse, but her arms were purple all the way up to her shoulders and spreading fast. While she was distracted Darkness threw a punch, catching Katie’s jaw and she stumbled back from the blow.

“It will stop when I get out of here.” Katie threw a punch that Darkness dodged.

“You get out of here without me and you will die within seconds.” Darkness threw a punch and Katie dodged it then threw one of her own catching Darkness in the jaw then kicked her in the chest knocking her to the granite.

She grabbed Darkness up by her black tank top and glared at her. “I said no.”

“And I said…” Darkness breathed hard from the blow to her chest, “You will die if you don’t. You may be stronger than me, you may be able to keep me at bay, but if you go back to your body without me…without a piece of who you are…you…will…die.” Darkness looked at her with a dead serious face. “No more Elijah. No more Klaus. You can kiss your friends goodbye too.” Katie’s eyes grew wide remembering everything everyone told her in the video Caroline made for her. “Accept me.”

She blinked, tears slipping from her eyes. “If I accept you…I accept that I am not a good person.”

“You’ve never been a good person.” Darkness told her as she jumped up. “When we were known as Hannah did we not think of a million different ways to turn that whip on Father, or to poison him? You even thought about running away in the night and abandoning your poor little sister. Then as Katie…you contemplated killing your grandfather in his sleep. You thought about tying him to a chair and breaking every bone in his body then slitting his throat for ever letting Mayor Lockwood touch you. You cheated on Tyler with Damon and yeah you knew it was wrong, you felt a little bad about it, but you weren’t sorry. You slept with Klaus knowing that Elijah still loves you. Then of course there are all those people you killed after you flipped your switch. You don’t feel sorry about that. You don’t care that they had family and kids. Their blood tasted better than any blood bag ever did. You have power over humans and you revel in it. There has, and always will be, a darkness in you whether you want it or not. The only thing you regret is what you did to that poor little girl.”

“I don’t want you. Suppressing you is tiring. I managed to hold it back as a human, but now…every day is torture.” Katie said with tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Then maybe it is time you accept me…accept the darkness in you…and find a way to embrace me instead of suppress me.” She told Katie with a glare. “You have to accept me or need I remind you. You’ll. Die.”

As much as Katie hated the darkness in her, she loved her friends. And she loved Elijah and Klaus. She still wanted all the things she always did out of life…she wanted to live. “I accept you…”

As soon as the words left her mouth the woman threw herself into Katie, not sinking into her gently like the others had, but invasively inserting herself into her. Like the splitting of cells, but reversed. Katie threw her head back and screamed out in pain as the darkness seeped into her, fangs formed in her mouth and veins popped under her eyes, pumping the whites of them full of blood. She squeezed her eyes shut and fell to her knees. After a while the pain subsided and she fell back in relief.

She expected to hit granite; instead she started falling down a black tunnel. She felt like she had been falling for forever when out of nowhere she stopped mid air and a woman appeared in front of her holding her hand out as if she was keeping Katie from falling further even though she was floating too. “Who are you?” Katie asked, taking in the woman’s long brown hair and blue eyes. She looked to be in her late forties.

“Dahlia.” She answered. “It seems fated that you should end up here in the place of my slumber.” Katie gave the woman a confused shake of her head. “Your soul shattered, landing you neither on earth, passed on or on the other side. That’s not something that happens often.” Katie just glared at the woman. “When you shattered, your memories scattered throughout this place. While you were putting yourself back together I was looking at them and I’ve seen enough to know you’ve been intimate with my nephew.”

“Look I don’t know who you are, but I’m pretty sure my memories and who I’m intimate with are none of your business and I’d like nothing more to continue my journey back to my body.” She told her with an attitude induced sway of her head. “So if you could kindly put me down it would be highly appreciated.”

“Before I put you down I’m going to give you a gift.” She told her still holding her hand out in front of her.

“What?” Katie asked.

Dahlia flicked her wrist causing an odd tingling feeling to spread over and sink into Katie’s lower abdomen. “You’re welcome.” Dahlia dropped Katie and as she fell she looked up to see Dahlia disappear.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie shot straight up in bed taking in a deep breath. She looked around to see her friends in the doorway of her bedroom at Klaus’s house, “What the hell happened?” she asked then looked up at the blood bag hanging on an iv that was stuck in her arm. “I’m starving.”

As her friends came back into the room Elijah took the blood bag off the pole while she pulled the needle out of her arm. He disconnected the tube then handed her the bag. She grabbed it and sucked it down, the color returning to her skin as she did. “What is the last thing that you remember?” Elijah asked as he took the empty bag from her.

“You…making me feel with our link.” Katie answered, then realized that she didn’t feel the pull in her stomach that she usually did when he was near. “Our link…” she sighed, looking Elijah in his brown eyes. “It’s gone.”

“I assume you are relieved.” He told her bluntly as he looked down at the tube in his hand.

She frowned remembering she had told him that she’d hoped it would break when she turned off her humanity. “I-” she was cut off when something started burning her chest and she grabbed it and pulled it off to see the necklace Damon had given her hanging from the chain in her hand. “Ouch.” She sighed and put it down on the bed beside her seeing the picture Stefan had framed for her and the drawing of her in her ball gown that Klaus had made. “Seriously someone tell me what the hell’s going on.” She said as she took the necklace Elijah had given her off her wrist and set it on the bed next to Damon’s. She noticed the bracelet her friends had given her and decided to leave it on.

“We thought you were dead, Katie Cat.” Damon told her from where he leaned against the white post of her footboard.

“Huh?” Katie asked.

“When Elijah reached out to you with your link he overpowered your soul and shattered it.” Bonnie answered. “Without a soul, your body started dying.”

Katie looked over at Elijah. “Did you know that would happen?”

“No.” he answered simply. “If I did I never would have reached out to you like that.”

“Okay, I’m out of here.” Elena said and left the room.

“Good to see you up, Katie Cat.” Damon said as he walked over to her and kissed the top of her head. “Try not to die again, okay?” he told her then rushed after Elena.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go.” Stefan spoke up feeling awkward since he and Katie hadn’t been on good terms for some time now.

He started to leave ,but Katie spoke up. “Hey Stefan?” he turned and looked back at her. “I don’t hate you, just do you know. You weren’t really yourself and you rightfully wanted revenge. I just happened to be on the bad side of that.” Stefan just looked at her. “Are we good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” He told her with a closed lipped smile and a nod then left the room.

Katie looked at Bonnie and Caroline, “Is a fresh start too much to ask for?”

“No, we’re good too.” Bonnie told her with a teary eyed smile.

“So we’re all friends again?” Caroline asked with a bright smile that made Katie smile.

“Yes.” Katie answered. “Well, the three of us are. I’m not sure what was up with Elena.”

“She flipped her switch, but that’s a long story for another time.” Bonnie told her looking sad all of a sudden.

Caroline looked at Katie, sitting on the bed with both Elijah and Klaus at her side. “We’ll give you three some space.” She hit Bonnie’s shoulder with the back of her hand to get her attention then jerked her head to the door. “We’ll see you tomorrow?” Caroline asked Katie who nodded.

With them gone Katie looked back and forth between Klaus and Elijah. “I need a drink.” She slid off the bed and headed downstairs. She grabbed a bottle of bourbon out of the liquor cabinet and a glass. When she turned from the fridge from putting ice in the glass she found Klaus and Elijah sitting at the bar behind her. “I have no idea what to say to either of you. Somehow I’m sorry just doesn’t seem to cut it.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Elijah told her and she sighed.

“Yes, I do. I shouldn’t have told you about me and Klaus.” Klaus blinked at her and tilted his head to the side. “Not like that anyway.” She poured some bourbon over the ice and capped the bottle. “But you know what?” she picked up the glass and pointed her finger at Elijah. “My love life stopped being your business when you…what did you call it again?” she asked looking around in thought even though she remembered exactly what he’d said. “Right, you let me go. Like a bird that wasn’t perfectly fine with the cage she was in.”

“Niklaus, will you give us a minute?” Elijah asked with a look at Klaus. Klaus looked at Katie and she gave him a nod. So he walked away. “I left because I thought it was what was best for you.” he told her and she opened her mouth to say something, but he held up his hand and she closed her mouth. “But as you pointed out before we passed out, you’ve had enough people telling you what to do. I will forever regret becoming one of them. All I can do is hope that you will one day forgive me both for leaving you and shattering your soul.”

Katie took a drink then set the glass down. “You hurt me, Elijah. You broke me, my trust and my belief in love.” She took a drink as she watched him straighten the place mat in front of him. “And yes, I’m relieved that our link is broken.” he stopped and looked up at her with a frown. “But it’s not because I hate you for leaving me or any other malicious untrue reason. It’s because the whole time I was with you I didn’t know if what I felt for you was real or if it was the link pushing me to feel something for you. I blindly trusted it and jumped in feet first because I wanted so badly to feel loved and wanted.” She paused to take a breath and another drink.

“I will admit it was unfair of me to expect us to simply pick up where we left off. I just missed you so much and waited so long to find you again that I overlooked that while you are exceptionally similar to the woman I fell in love with you are also vastly different.” He told her, not looking her in the eyes.

Katie threw back what was left of her drink and poured another. “I told you that I would always love you, link or no link and I meant it.” she walked around the bar to stand in front of him.

“As did I.” he told her and she smiled a little then let it fall.

“I’m going to be honest with you, I was hoping when that link broke that I wouldn’t feel anything for you. That I could have an easy out of the pain that loving someone inevitably brings. But I look into your eyes and I feel that pain and heartbreak. So I know it was real.”

“So what does that mean for us?” he asked as he propped his elbow up on the bar.

“It means that while I still love you and I always will, I can’t overlook that you chose to leave me. It means I can’t just…jump back into it with you. However what I can do is forgive you for leaving me and shattering my soul. We both need to let go of the past and move on.” She told him.

He looked back down at the place matt, tapping it with his fingertips. “And do you intend to move on with Klaus?” he asked quietly.

She sighed and leaned her hip on the bar. “If he will still have me, yes.” She saw a pained look flash across his face. “I hope you know it wasn’t my intention to hurt you by sleeping with him. I never intended on having feelings for him at all, it just kind of happened.”

“You do not have to explain yourself to me.” He told her as he took his hand off the bar and stood up. He looked around with squinted eyes and pursed lips before he sighed and placed his hand on Katie’s cheek, touching her for the first time since she woke up. Her eyes slipped closed from the comforting, familiar touch before she opened them and looked at him. “Does he make you happy?”

She picked up her foot and started tapping the toe of it into the hardwood floor. “Yes.”

“Then you have nothing to feel bad about.” He told her then leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead as her eyes slipped shut. “Goodbye, Katie.” By the time she opened her eyes he was gone.

She was getting a blood bag out of the icebox when Klaus found her. “I see Elijah is gone.”

“Yep.” She said as she ripped the corner of the bag off with her teeth and spit it onto the bar then poured the blood into a clear glass.

“And you’re still here.” He observed.

“Is that okay with you?” she asked as she lifted the glass to her lips and took a drink.

“You are kidding right?” he asked as he walked around the bar and picked her up by her hips making her yelp and attempt to not spill her drink as he set her on the counter. She set the glass to the side and wrapped her legs around him as she rested her hands on his broad and toned yet kind of skinny shoulders. These actions told him all he needed to know before he pressed his lips to hers in a slow passionate kiss. After a few seconds it broke and he pressed his forehead to hers. “Do you know how hard it was to not kiss you the second you opened your eyes?”

“Not a clue. I’ve never wanted to kiss myself.” She popped off and he pulled back to give her a get-serious look that made her smile a cheeky smile at him. “How long have I been out?”

“Three weeks.” He answered.

“And how long since I flipped my switch?” she asked. “I kind of lost track of time in that horrible windowless room you and Elijah locked me in.”

“Around three months.” He answered and she slipped her hands down his chest.

“A lot can change in three months,” She pointed out looking him in the eyes.

“A lot has changed.” he told her as he looked into her eyes and brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers, “I’m hoping we haven’t?”

She smiled and bit her lip. “We haven’t.” As soon as the words left her lips he kissed her hungrily and slipped his hands under her white tank top. She pulled away. “Whoa, hey, what about Rebekah?” Katie asked.

“She has her own house now.” he told her then started kissing her neck. “We had a bit of a falling out.”

“Something tells me a dagger was involved.” He rolled his eyes at her then started kissing her neck. “Slow your roll there Big Bad Wolf.” she told him as she pulled back and smiled at the aggravated sigh that left his lips. “Before I get too lost in you can I have a few minutes to myself to shower and just…take a beat?”

“Of course.” He told her then back up.

She hopped down, grabbed her glass of blood and down it. “I’ll find you when I’m done.” She told him with a flirty look as she headed upstairs.

Since they had the house to themselves she didn’t bother grabbing clean clothes before she went to the bathroom, turned on the shower, waited for the water to warm up then stepped inside. As the warm water cascaded down her shoulders and back she thought about everything that she’d done since she flipped the switch, every kill, every person she compelled to do her bidding...none of it bothered her. She knew she should be weeping at the thought of taking someone’s family away from them, of how many grieving people there were in the world thanks to her and her blood lust, but she didn’t feel the need to. Yes she shouldn’t have killed them, but she couldn’t beat herself up about it.

Then she remembered the horrified look on the little girl's face as she placed her dead father’s still warm heart in her little hands. The thought of her face being the stuff of that little girl’s nightmares, how much therapy that little girl was going to need just to function as a human. The realization that she single handedly crushed that little girl’s innocence broke her. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she pressed her back against the shower wall and slid down wrapping her arms around her wet knees as she let it all out.

Eventually though she realized crying wouldn’t make it any better. So she stood up, finished showering then wrapped her towel around herself and went to her room. After throwing on her usual lounging around outfit of a tank top and shorts she found Klaus in his room, lying shirtless in bed, reading a green faux leather book. “So this is your room huh?” she asked from the doorway as she looked around. Brown and cream sheer curtains hung over the windows, a brown and cream bedspread covered Klaus’s lower half and a round dining table sat under a crystal chandelier that matched one of the chandeliers that had been in her holding room. Several framed handwritten letters hung on the wall over the head of the bed. A lamp that sat on the bedside table dimly lit the room.

“How was your shower?” he asked, having heard her crying. She walked over to his side of the bed and hopped up on it then straddled him. Instead of answering him she pressed her face into his neck and wrapped her arms around his waist. The hug surprised him. Yes, they were close, they spoke intimately and had sex, and he’d hugged her when she cried about Elijah leaving her, but this hug was something more. This hug showed a certain amount of neediness and that wasn’t something he’d felt from her before. She cared about him, she wanted him, but he never thought she needed him. The fact that she did shook him to his core as he wrapped an arm around her waist and held the back of her neck with the other hand. The words I love you almost slipped over his lips, but he kept it to himself. Her soul had just shattered and in doing so flipped her switch back on, she was dealing with enough emotionally without him adding to it.

So instead of saying it, he slid down in the bed, keeping her on top of him as he grabbed a pillow and put it under his head. In an attempt to further comfort her he started playing with her damp hair. She hummed, closed her eyes and started lazily sliding her fingertips up and down his side. “That feels good.” Her words made him smile. “Klaus?” she asked quietly.

“Yes, Sweetheart?” he asked, still playing with her hair.

She found herself wanting to say those three little words, but she couldn’t let herself. If she said it out loud she’d be letting him in. If she let him in, he could hurt her and if he said it back…she could hurt him. He was the last person she’d ever want to hurt. So instead of I love you she simply said, “Thank you.”

“Any time.” He told her, making her smile. Then she opened her eyes and saw the green book on the bedside table.

“Is that my journal?” she asked, putting her hand on his chest as she pushed herself up.

“Yes.” He answered and she sat up to straddle him.

“Why were you reading it?” she drawled with suspicious eyes.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” He answered and she glared at him. “I’m the reason you abandoned your humanity, I wanted to be the one to help you find your way back.”

“So what did you find out from reading the melodramatic bull crap that is my journal?” she asked as she started drawing nonsensical shapes on his chest.

“I know you like Italian food, hate chocolate and love cheesecake and strawberry ice cream. I found out that you lost your virginity to Damon, poor choice if you ask me, as well as a plethora of other things, but what caught my attention most was the poetry.”

“Ugh.” She made a disgusted noise and wrinkled her nose. “Why?”

“Because it’s good.” He told her, giving her thigh a light squeeze. “And I like poetry.”

“So…” she sighed, deciding to change the subject before he decided to start filling her head with compliments. “Fill me in on what I’ve missed, please.”

He pushed himself up to lean against the headboard then moved her around to sit between his legs leaning back on him with his arms wrapped around her.

From there he told her everything that happened since she flipped her switch. How, when he found out about Katie flipping her switch, he made Bonnie put him back into his body that hadn’t been completely burned because the casket he was in when he was stabbed got closed and extinguished the flame.

How the hunter named Connor showed up in town. He was part of a group of five supernaturally gifted vampire hunters whose mission was to find the original immortal, Silas, and the cure to immortality, cure Silas then kill him. Klaus had to leave Katie with Elijah to help control the hunter. The freshly turned Elena killed the hunter and therefore became haunted by the hunter's curse. When Elena killed the hunter, the tattoo that only hunters and potential hunters could see, showed up on Jeremy and the only way for Elena’s hallucinations to stop was for Jeremy to kill a vampire. Caroline talked Klaus into letting Jeremy kill one of his hybrids.

Some guy named Shane who was a professor that took over the college class that Grams used to teach, started teaching Bonnie a type of magic called expression not telling her that it was dark magic. Stefan and Elena broke up. Klaus and Stefan started working together to grow Jeremy’s tattoo that would lead to the location of the cure to immortality. They both want it for Elena.

They found out that Elena was sire bound to Damon. Meaning she was in love with him before she turned. Klaus found out when they all tried to neutralize him that his hybrids had broken their sire bonds to him and Tyler had led the rebellion. Klaus killed all of his hybrids and Tyler’s mom. Kol found out about them trying to find the cure and knew that if they did Silas would unleash hell on earth so he tried to thwart any attempt to find Silas. Klaus turned a bar full of people for Jeremy to kill and complete his mark, but Kol killed them before Jeremy could. Elena asked Klaus to help keep Jeremy safe from Kol who was trying to kill him to keep them from following the hunters mark. Kol also compelled Damon to kill Jeremy so he got locked up in the basement for a little while.

Kol tried to cut Jeremy’s arms off to keep the tattoo from spreading, so Elena killed him. Klaus was going to burn them both in the house, but Bonnie managed to trap him in Elena’s living room with a spell. Because Kol’s whole sire line died, it completed Jeremy’s mark. Klaus was stuck there while the others, besides Caroline and Tyler, went to Nova Scotia to find Silas and the cure. Tyler told Klaus that his plan was to cure Klaus and kill him. Caroline cleaned up Kol’s body while Tyler taunted Klaus on exactly how he was going to kill him. Klaus took his anger at Tyler out on Caroline by biting her. Tyler left Caroline there to make Klaus watch her die. Klaus couldn’t let her die and cured her. The next day Klaus, Caroline and Tyler used a hunter’s sword to decode Jeremy's tattoo, revealing that there is only one dose of the cure. Because Tyler tried to kill him, Klaus ran him out of town. Katherine killed Jeremy by feeding Silas his blood in order to get the cure out of his mummified hands.

Jeremy’s death put Elena in unbearable pain and Damon told her to turn her humanity off not knowing it would break the sire bond. She burned her house down with Jeremy in it.

“Can’t say I haven’t thought about burning my house down.” She commented.

“After everything I just told you that’s what you comment on?” he asked, putting his chin on her shoulder as he looked at her face. She just shrugged. “No comments on the fact that I slaughtered my hybrids and killed your ex-boyfriends mother?”

“I get why you killed your hybrids, but on the flip side I get why they tried to kill you.” he poked her in the side. “What? For someone who wanted them for a back up family you kind of treated them like slaves.” She told him bluntly. “As for Tyler’s mom…she had her nice moments like trying to help me win Miss Mystic, and she loved her son, but mostly she was just a bitch. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard her call me trash. Pretty sure if you didn’t kill her I would have eventually.” She told him then turned around and straddled his lap.

Things were comfortably quiet for a little while as they both just enjoyed being with each other. “Happy birthday, by the way, I’m sorry I did not get you anything.”

“You’re the only birthday present I need.” She told him then wrinkled her nose. “That sounded far less cheesy in my head.”

He smiled. “I do not mind cheesy.”

She glared at him playfully. “You secretly love romantic chick flicks don’t you?”

He laughed looking a little embarrassed. “Maybe.” Katie smiled and looked at her hands exploring his torso. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Nope. I like it.” she told him then leaned down and kissed his neck.

“So what do you want for your birthday?” he asked as she kept placing random kisses over his neck and chest.

“An art lesson.” She answered, surprising him.

“The woman that colored in a coloring book to pass art class wants a lesson?” he asked and she stopped showering him with kisses to look at his face.

“I would have liked to learn, but the teacher sucked and it was kind of nice to have a break from my other, harder, classes.” She told him as her hands slid over his shoulders and down his arms to his hands that rested on her thighs and grabbed them in hers. “I want to know more about the things you’re passionate about.” She admitted as she pressed her palms to his.

He threaded his fingers through hers and pulled her into him catching her lips with his in a kiss that slowly deepened. After a few minutes of making out he let go of her hands, grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head. He looked into her eyes as his hands found her breasts and kneaded them as he kissed her neck, his actions pulling a sigh from her as he slid down to lay on his back. She grabbed his chin and kissed his lips then kissed down his jaw line to his neck, pulling a sigh out of him with her touch. Her hands explored his torso as she kissed his collarbone, the hollow of his neck, the center of his chest then surprised him as she kept kissing lower, making his breath quicken when she threw the covers over her head and took him into her mouth. The grunt her action pulled out of him made her laugh only giving him that much more pleasure.

She was just starting to have fun when he threw the covers off of her, grabbed her chin and pulled her up for a heated kiss. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?” he asked between peppering kisses over her neck and shoulders and his hand caressed her back.

“Show me?” she asked and he pulled away from kissing her to look her in the eyes as he rolled them over. She wrapped one arm around his torso while her other hand held the back of his neck. As he hovered over her, braced on his hand on the bed next to her head, he slipped his hand down her chest. He didn’t break eye contact as he moved his hand to her breast, kneading it before he pinched her nipple making her moan and dig her fingertips into his back. Desperate to have his lips back on her she pulled him to her for a needy passionate kiss. As they kissed his hand moved down her stomach then slipped into her shorts and panties. His talented fingers pulled a whimper from her that made him pull back and look her in the eyes as he pleasured her.

After a minute she pushed off the rest of her clothes, grabbed his wrist, pulled his hand away, rolled them over then sat up. When she slipped his slick fingers into her mouth he thought he was going to lose it, but he managed to hold back as he slipped them out and sat up. He grabbed her beast in his hand as she slid her hands over his toned arms. A growl left his lips as he attacked neck with kisses and nibbles making her laugh then sigh before he whooshed them around and sank into her.

A sigh left her lips as she squeezed her eyes closed and wrapped her legs around him. His sighs and groans only fueled her fire just as her whimpers and moans fueled his. He could tell she was getting close and as if on cue she sighed, “God, Klaus.”

“Come for me, sweetheart.” His words tipped her over the edge making her dig her fingernails into his back and tighten her legs around him. The slight pain of her nails in his back and intense pleasure of her orgasm sent him tumbling after her and pulled a loud grunt from him, making her smile as he let his head fall to her chest.

After they had both come down from the high he picked up his head and looked her in the eyes. As she moved her hands from his back to his chest she saw the blood on her fingernails and her smile faded. “Did I scratch you?” she asked, taking her hand off of him a little shocked at what she had done.

“Mmhmm.” he hummed and started kissing her chest absentmindedly.

“Did it hurt?” she asked, still looking at the blood on her fingertips.

“Only a little.” He answered.

“I’m sorry. I’ve never done anything like that before.” She told him.

He stopped kissing her to look her in the eyes. “Pain and pleasure sometimes go hand in hand.” She just looked at him with a frown. “It’s fine. I liked it.” he assured her.

“If you say so.” She told him deciding not to harp on it. He rolled off of her to lie on his side, turned off the lamp then pulled the covers over them. He smiled to himself when she tucked herself into his chest, intertwined her legs with his and wrapped an arm around his waist. She was being clingier than usual and he couldn’t help but love it.

He thought she was just reveling in the calm after the storm like she used to, but after a few minutes her breathing changed and he looked down to see that she had fallen asleep. So he kissed the top of her head and let sleep overcome him, happy that she was back in his arms.

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stanbillyhargrove · 3 years

Text

Demons - The Rewrite

Chapter 15: I Need Some Reasons To Live, Maybe You Could Show Me Some

Tw: suicide attempt

Steve’s POV

I had been out driving around, just listening to music and trying to take my mind off everything.

Off Cat and how to help her.

If I even could help her.

When I got home, a bag of snacks tucked under my arm, I sighed and flopped down on the couch. I looked over at the phone and noticed the blinking light that signaled a message.

Probably mom or dad, thinking that the occasional message replaces being here.

I huffed, getting up and walking over to press the blinking button.

“Steve, sweetie, it’s mom-” Skip.

“Son-” Skip.

“Stevie,” my ears perked at Cat’s slurring voice, “Steeevvviiieeee, are you home? I guess not, listen, listen, Stevie. I did something, something really dumb. I need you, I need your help. Or not, if you don’t help me that’s fine. I’m fine, everything is fiiiiinnnee, right, Stevie?” I was already grabbing my car keys when I heard the last of her message, “bye, Stevie.”

The way her voice sounded, so small and empty, put a knot in my stomach as I raced out of the house. The drive seemed to take two, three, ten fucking times longer than it should have.

“What the fuck did you do?”

–

I pulled up to her house, let myself in and instantly had goosebumps running up my body. The air inside felt thick, wrong, too quiet, as I started searching the house.

“Cat? Are you here?”

Rocky burst down the hall, making me nearly jump out of my skin and ran to my side, whining.

“Hey, Buddy,” I whispered, patting his head before leading him to the back door to let him out into the yard and continuing my search.

“Hello?”

I stopped, ears straining for any noise and heard a light moan coming from down the hall. My heart was ready to pound of of my chest as I approached the bathroom door.

Bye, Stevie.

I steeled myself, lungs screaming as I held my breath and rapped on the door with a knuckle.

“Cat?” My voice came out small and hitched.

She was lying in the tub, sprawled out like she had fallen in, head lolling to the side. My heart kicked into my throat and I started hyperventilating, I knew I was, I could fucking hear my panicked breath but I didn’t feel like I was breathing. My chest was tight, painful, as I stumbled across the floor.

“No, no, no, fuck, fuck,” I was shaking when I reached for her face.

She was cold and clammy but sweating like her veins were full of fire. But she was breathing, I could see her chest rising in small, shallow movements. The stench of alcohol was strong, like she had bathed in it and looking around I could see a bottle of aspirin knocked over haphazardly, teetering on the edge of the counter.

“Hey, can you hear me?” I asked, shaking her shoulders.

When she didn’t move, didn’t open her fucking eyes, I swear I felt my soul leave my body. She can’t do this, how could she fucking do this?

“Okay, you’re okay, oh jesus, fuck, okay,” words spilled out of my mouth as I climbed into the tub behind her.

I pulled Cat against my chest, straightening her up and leaned forward to turn on the shower, hoping the cool water would stop the sweats and rinse away what I was about to do. With a shaky breath I grabbed her face in one hand and stuck the fingers of my other hand down her throat. Her chest heaved and I fought my instincts to pull my hand away, instead pushing it further until acidic bile spilled out of her mouth. I pulled my hand away then and tipped her forward, trying to get her head under the water and direct the puke into the drain.

“Okay, you’re okay, we’re okay, fuck, come on,” I looked over her shoulder at her face and shook her, “come on, wake up. Please!”

When her eyes fluttered but stayed closed I pushed my fingers down her throat again, waiting until more puke burned me before tipping her over the drain.

“Come on,” I groaned, “please. You fucking asshole, come on. Don't leave me."

Finally, after getting her to puke once more she started coughing and her eyes opened, just barely and they were red ringed and hazy but they were open.

“Oh fuck, thank fucking god,” I wrapped my arms around Cat, clutching her close as the water ran over us. “You fucking...why? How could you fucking do that?”

Cat groaned, resting her head back into my shoulder, breathing heavily. I kept a tight hold on her as I leaned us forward, turning the water off before slumping back against the tub. After a while of silence, Cat started to shiver.

“S-Stevie?”

“What?” I snapped, angrier than I intended.

She flinched, turned her eyes down and tried to suppress a shiver, “I didn’t…”

“Didn’t what? Try to kill yourself? Could have fucking fooled me.”

I was being too harsh, I could tell when she didn’t say anything after, so I carefully stood up, dragging her out of the tub with me and sat her on the edge of the tub, her face pressed against the wall.

“Where are your towels?”

Cat pointed behind me at the small closet in the wall. I pulled out a few of the biggest ones I could find and dropped them on the counter.

“I should take you to the hospital.”

“No! Stevie, you can’t. I’m okay, you can’t! Please,” she begged.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I stared at her.

"Please," she murmured, lip wavering.

“Can you move? You need to get out of those wet clothes,” I tried to soften my voice, take some of the edge off.

Her dewy eyes met mine, as if asking for mercy. I stayed unmoving, waiting.

She looked down before shifting to the side as she tried to pull off her over sized flannel. She moved slowly and shakily but she was moving so I turned and started peeling off my own wet clothes, leaving myself in just my boxers before helping her. I grabbed her tiny waist in one arm to hold her and finished sliding the flannel off, tossing it to the ground before sitting her down again.

“You gunna tell me what happened?”

“I just..had a headache,” her voice was small and hoarse.

I cocked an eyebrow at her, “don’t bullshit me.”

“Stevie, I swear,” tears began to fall from her eyes as she pleaded with me, “I swear, I didn’t.. I drank too much, didn’t realize how many..”

"Don't," I sighed, wrapping a towel around my waist, “just...don’t move.”

I walked out of the bathroom, just far enough to take my boxers off without being seen and then came back, dropping them in the pile of wet clothes.

“Do you…are you,” I huffed, “your clothes are soaked, are you okay to change or do you want my help?”

She puffed out her cheeks with a shaky breath, “I might need help.”

“Okay,” I reached out to help her stand against the wall and reached forward to undo her pants.

She flinched back, making me look up at her, “you okay?”

Cat nodded, biting her lip and holding her breath as I popped the button. More tears fell and she fisted her hand against her mouth when she started breathing fast, too fast. I pulled down the zipper slowly and grabbed her waistband.

“Cat. Hey, Cat,” I looked up at her and waited for her to meet my eyes, “just, look at me. You’re safe, I promise. I’m just trying to help, okay?”

She breathed out, a long shaky breath and didn’t look away from me this time, “okay.”

Gently, I pulled her pants down her hips, keeping eye contact with her as I felt the harsh curves of her hip bones under my fingers. When her pants reached her knees, I gently grabbed one thigh in my hand and pulled her foot off the ground to free her leg of the soaked jeans and repeated with the other leg.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to help you with the rest?” I asked, motioning at her underwear and tank top.

She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, “I…I can do it, if you grab clothes. Billy left some clothes here, they should fit you..in my closet.”

I grabbed a towel and laid it over her shoulders to catch the drips from her hair and gathered her in my arms, “shout if you need me, okay?”

She nodded into my chest, hands fisted against my back, “okay.”

I held her for a moment before turning to leave but was stopped by her hand around my bicep, “Stevie?”

“Hmm?”

She gave me a quick, watery smile, “thank you.”

My lips tightened into a line before I nodded once and left.

I found Billy’s clothes in Cat’s closet and got dressed, swimming in his clothes a little bit, before rifling around a bit more to find comfortable clothes for Cat. When I got back to the bathroom, Cat was wrapped in the towels and sitting on the edge of the tub.

I placed her clothes on the counter, “where’s your mom?”

“Gone. She had a training thing out of town, be gone at least a week or two she said.”

“Okay, well you’re gunna stay with me.”

“Stevie,” she protested.

“I’m not fucking asking. I’ve got nobody at home either and I’m not leaving you alone, get dressed and we’ll pack a bag for you.”

She huffed, resigning to my demand and picked her clothes off the counter and motioned for me to leave.

“Did you eat tonight?” I asked from the outside of the door.

“Alcohol count?"

I could hear the smirk on her face.

My head fell back against the door frame, “you’re gunna give me fucking grey hair before I’m twenty five.”

She laughed dryly, “can’t have that, that’s your only defining feature.”

I huffed, “you’re not very nice to me, you know?”

She came out of the bathroom, tugging the shirt I had grabbed for her down and looking at me with sad, red eyes, “no, I guess I’m not.”

–

At home I left Cat to unpack and get herself and Rocky comfortable in my room and went to sit in the kitchen. My body felt tense, strung out now that the adrenaline had wore off and I started shaking. My fingers were vibrating against my eyes as I held my face, emotions hitting me all at once now that I was alone.

I was pissed, fucking livid at her.

How could she do that to me? Try to leave me? Does she not care?

I care.

I care too fucking much.

I sat at the table, chest heaving as sobs ripped through me for I don’t even know how long. Could’ve been fucking hours, I had no idea. I eventually felt small hands wrap around my shoulders, cool skin chilling me as Cat leaned against my back.

“Hey..” she whispered.

“Hey,” I rasped, voice scratchy from crying.

She tucked her face into my neck and let out a shuddering breath. I reached up and laid my hand on the back of her head, holding her, clutching her.

Keeping her here. With me. Safe.

Alive.

If I could just keep her here...

“Come on,” she soothed, sliding her hands down my arms to pull at me gently.

I sniffed and breathed out shakily before letting her pull me up and into my room. I slumped down onto the bed with my head in my hands, completely exhausted now.

Cat switched the light off, pulled the covers down and climbed under them to lay down. Soft fingers pulled me in to lay my head on her side. We laid there silently for a while, me clutching at her while I tried to calm the thoughts in my head.

Like, what if I hadn't heard her message? What if I never went over?

Would she have died there? Alone in the tub?

Why would she do that? What happened?

“Why’d you call me?” was the question that came out.

She let out a breath and something that was almost a sob, “Billy and I broke up. And you know…everything about me...I trust you.”

“What? Why?”

“It was stupid, probably, I don’t know. We were drunk and he just, he wanted to, tried to…I couldn’t stop him, Stevie, I…I left, told him I couldn’t do this anymore.”

“Did he…hurt you?"

"No, I just panicked."

“Well, is that what you want? To not be with him anymore?” I shifted to look at her.

“No, I mean, I love him. I just don’t know, after everything, if he’ll feel the same,” she explained, a couple tears rolling down her cheek, "I don't know if I can tell him.."

I sighed, “come here,” I rolled onto my back and patted my shoulder, “you’re a shitty pillow.”

She sniffed and smiled before curling into me, “you’re a jerk.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, wrapping an arm around her, “and you’re an asshole.”

"Stevie?"

I turned from the window to look at Cat. I could just make out her features in the moonlight.

"What time is it?" She asked quietly.

"Almost three," I whispered back.

"What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep."

I turned to look back out the window. Out at the endless sea of stars and the milky glow of the moon. The quiet houses.

I wonder if any of them had also saved someone's life tonight? Or if they were too late?

I wonder if anyone else couldn't sleep and was staring out at the same stars.

The blankets rustled when Cat got out of bed to pad over to me. She wrapped her hands around my arm and tipped her head against my shoulder to stare out the window with me.

"It's so peaceful at night."

"You should get some sleep," I murmured.

"I'll stay up with you."

I smiled and tipped my head against hers.

@charmed-asylum

#billy hargrove #stranger things #fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fic #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove series #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #billy hargrove fanfic #fanfiction

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mx-chrx · 3 years

Link

Summary: Tim had practically begged Dick to get a flu shot. He probably should've listened.

Barbara checked the time again and sighed. She opened Dick’s contact and sent him a couple question marks. He hadn’t responded in almost an hour and she wondered if she should be worried or annoyed.

When it came to the “Bat Crew,” as Stephanie sometimes called them, tardiness could mean anything from a nap run wild to a slow bleed behind a dumpster.

She scrunched her eyes shut, quickly ridding herself of that mental image and the tension that it had squeezed into her shoulders and was just about to send Tim a text when she finally heard the familiar rumble of a motorcycle pulling into the lot.

Dick hopped off and shot her a goofy smile as he sauntered her way, his hair a sweaty tangle and his eyes somewhat droopy.

Nap run wild, then.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured, his voice brittle with exhaustion as he tilted her chin up to kiss her. “My alarm didn’t go off.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Barbara said. She wanted to seem annoyed, but her relief that he wasn’t mortally injured somewhere made it difficult to maintain.

Part of her wondered if normal girls worried that their boyfriends were dying whenever they were running late for a date. Probably not.

They headed for the theater, Babs’ arm looped around his, and she frowned at the dense hoodie he had on while she was in shorts and a tank.

“What’s with this?” she asked, tugging on the sleeve. “You covered in bruises or something?”

He nodded but avoided her eyes the way he always did when he was either lying or embarrassed. She pursed her lips at him but said nothing as they moved through the ticket line.

It wasn’t until they got to the concessions area and Dick hesitated to join her in line that Barbara found herself on high alert.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Don’t tell me you aren’t getting anything.”

She’d personally watched Dick polish off family sized combos singlehandedly. It was equal parts impressive and frightening.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard a few times, the color slowly draining from his face. “Uh, you know, I’m not hungry,” he said, his voice wavering. “M-maybe later.”

“You don’t eat popcorn because you’re ‘hungry,’” she teased, but she was getting genuinely nervous now. Her heart was starting to pound.

Dick didn’t seem hear her, but an urgency came over him as he shoved his wallet into her hands. “Here,” he said breathlessly. “I’ll be right back.”

“What are you–” she began, but he was already ducking into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later Babs had an armful of popcorn and was waiting impatiently by the men’s room, grinning awkwardly as people drifted in and out. Finally Dick emerged, a rueful smile on his lips and even paler than before.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered. His skin was glistening, and she couldn’t tell if it was from sweat or if he’d splashed water on his face.

“What’s going on with you?” she asked, instinctively reaching for his face, but Dick retreated from her touch, taking her hand in his instead.

Okay. Definitely hiding something.

“Nothing,” he promised. “C’mon, we’re gonna miss the trailers.”

Within the first forty minutes, Dick slipped out at least four different times, each time with a different excuse. A phone call, to get some candy that he didn’t even touch, to get Barbara a refill.

When he left for the fifth time, Babs had had enough. She grabbed her bag and their food and followed him.

She lingered outside the bathroom for only a few seconds before rolling her eyes at herself and going in. Whatever was going on in there, she was sure she’d seen worse.

Thankfully there was no one in there, which spared her any awkward explanations or excuses. The only person happened to be in the first stall, where a pair of shoes were sticking out from under the door.

The guy looked like he was kneeling in front of the toilet. And Barbara didn’t have to do much digging to know exactly who it was.

Dick coughed and groaned painfully, his voice reverberating in a way that made her suspect he had his face in the bowl.

Gross.

The toilet flushed and he opened the door and braced himself against the frame. His hair was clinging to his forehead, his eyes half-open and shadowed, and he looked moments away from sinking to the floor.

Barbara stared, her arms crossed like a disapproving mother, and waited for him to notice her.

When he finally did, his tired eyes went wide. “I– Babs, what are you doing here? This is the men’s room!”

He staggered past her to close the bathroom door so that no one else would come in, and the short dash seemed to take everything out of him because he stumbled over to the sinks to lean against the counter with his eyes squeezed shut.

Barbara waited, arms still crossed tightly, fighting the urge to comfort him right away.

After a moment he squinted at her, apparently battling a headache, and sighed. “I know.”

“You’re sick.”

“I’m not ‘sick’…” He lifted a trembling hand to his temple and rubbed it.

“You look like you’re about to pass out. When was the last time you ate something?” she demanded.

Dick considered that for a moment. The fact that he had to think about it at all made her want to scream.

“It’s been a while,” he admitted. “Haven’t been able to keep much down.” He added the last part reluctantly, his gaze shifting away.

“Dick,” she sighed, finally going to put her hand to his forehead. He didn’t pull away this time. In fact, he leaned into it, his eyes closing.

His skin was way too warm as if he’d been laying out in the sun for the past hour instead of sitting in a dark theater. “It’s probably the flu,” she said. “You should be home.”

“The flu,” he muttered. “Tim is gonna go ballistic.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He looked at her through heavy lids and tried to smile. “I’m fine,” he breathed, but there was no conviction in his voice.

“You’re burning up.”

“You calling me hot…Gordon?” He could barely muster the energy to finish the joke.

Barbara just rolled her eyes, kicking herself for the schoolgirl thrill that still sent through her.

Damn him for being so charming.

“Why don’t you take this thing off so you can cool down a little?” she suggested, starting to pull off the hoodie, but he grabbed her wrists.

“Don’t,” he whispered, suddenly earnest. “Please. I’m freezing.”

“Fever and chills,” she noted. “Yeah, you’re a picture of health there, Grayson.”

He grumbled something weakly and shoved his hands under his arms as he shuddered.

“C’mon. Let’s go,” she said, tugging one of his hands free so that she could snake under his arm and let him lean on her.

The process was slow, with Dick having to stop a few times to catch his breath or sit down on a bench to rest, and there was one nerve-racking moment when Barbara wasn’t sure he’d even make it to the parking lot without passing out altogether.

She was strong, but she definitely couldn’t carry an unconscious Dick Grayson alone for very long, and the last thing any of them needed was for some well-meaning bystander to call an ambulance.

When they finally did make it to the parking lot, she felt a massive weight lift off her chest, but Dick looked suddenly anxious, his mouth twisted in an awkward frown.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, already searching for the nearest trash can. It wasn’t too far. If she dragged him he could make it.

“I don’t think…” he began, avoiding her eyes again. “My bike. I don’t think I can make it home on my own right now…” His pale face suddenly turned red as he continued to look anywhere but her eyes. “I mean, I could but–”

“It’s fine,” she said, cutting him off before he could dive into a blackhole of backpedaling and caveats. Even after so many years of working alongside people – Batman, the rest of the Gotham crew, the Teen Titans, and even sometimes the Justice League – it struck her how hard it still was for him to just admit when he needed help.

She supposed that was the case for any of them, though. They’d all rather grin and bear it than feel like a weak link, even with something as low stakes as the flu.

She wondered if that had something to do with where they grew up. Weak links didn’t tend to last long in Gotham.

“I brought my car,” she added, tilting her head towards the maroon Nissan.

She loaded him into the backseat so that he could lay down, and as soon as his head hit the seat, he was out cold. When they got back to his place, Babs had to half-carry him up the steps, fumble with one hand for the spare key he’d given her, then awkwardly assure the desk worker that everything was okay before she managed to drag him up to his apartment.

They shuffled to his room where, once again, Dick flopped lifelessly across his bed, and Babs quickly abandoned any effort to coax him into more comfortable clothes. Instead, she slid a trashcan over along with a glass of water and some aspirin, then retrieved an ice pack from the freezer which she wrapped in an old T-shirt and laid across his forehead.

Dick muttered something that sounded grateful, and she kissed his cheek and wandered into the living room.

A few hours later, she was back in his room with a bowl of soup saying, “Come on, at least hold it.”

Dick, now propped up on a few pillows, stared at the bowl then looked at her. His mouth curled into grin that was an odd mix of playful and embarrassed.

“Would you believe me if I told you I genuinely can’t?” he asked. Then he lifted his hands a bit off the bed and turned them slowly. They shook noticeably, and Babs realized he genuinely wasn’t confident that he’d be able to hold the bowl for himself right now.

The sight of Dick being so depleted, the man who any other day was practically backflipping off the walls and leaping across roofs and laughing with his whole being, turned something jagged in Barbara’s chest.

Without another word, she scooped some of the soup and held the spoon to his mouth. “Open.”

“What? No sound effects? Isn’t it supposed to sound like a plane or something?” he teased. “Where’s the ambiance? The mise en scene?”

She laughed in spite of herself. “Sound effects are for people who don’t lie to their girlfriends about being sick for three days.”

“Ouch,” he said, but he opened his mouth to take a bite. Then he paused, the spoon still in his mouth. “Girlfriend?” he asked.

Babs felt her face getting red. “Don’t talk with your mouthful,” she ordered quickly, then shoved another spoonful in before he could respond.

Dick just laughed, a muffled sound since he hadn’t managed to swallow anything yet, and in that moment, he looked more like himself than he had all day.

He made it about halfway through the bowl before he was sick again – and Barbara couldn’t help but think her rapid-fire feeding was at least partially to blame. But after that, he slept for the rest of the evening, with Babs changing out his ice pack and checking his temperature every few hours. She realized that was all probably excessive, but it made her feel better regardless.

The next day the color was back in his face, and he got up on his own and took a shower. The day after that, he was practically back to his normal self, and emerged from his room freshly shaven with wet hair and his shirt unbuttoned and the scent of soap and lotion wafting off of him.

Barbara sat up on the couch, groggy and achy, but pleased to see him on the mend. “Looks like someone’s feeling better,” she yawned.

He plopped down next to her, finishing the buttons on his shirt. “I’m a new man,” he announced.

“The wonders of food and rest never cease to amaze,” she murmured, without much spirit. She felt almost too tired to even smile properly.

Dick eyed her carefully. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired,” she sighed. “I haven’t gotten much sleep these past couple days and unlike you and Tim, I need more than two hours a week to function properly.”

“Right,” Dick said, looking somewhat wounded. It made Babs’ chest ache. She hadn’t meant to make it sound like she regretted staying to help.

“Thanks again,” he said. “For everything.” He leaned over and kissed the side of her head, then pulled back, his brows scrunched together.

“What?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. “You feel warm.”

“You calling me hot, Grayson?” she asked. Dick grinned but put his hand to her head. His palm felt shockingly cool.

After a second, his eyes went wide. “Uh oh.”

“Don’t say it.”

“Babs, I am so sorr–”

Before he could finish, her stomach lurched and sent her careening towards the bathroom where she collapsed in front of the toilet and hurled her guts out. A few moments later, she felt her hair be pulled gently away from her face and a hand rubbing circles into her back.

“This cannot be happening,” she groaned.

“’Fraid so,” he sighed. “I’ll make up my bed and get you something to wear.”

“Okay… I’ll be here…” Her words were muffled partially by the toilet seat pressing against her cheek and soon, without realizing it, she’d drifted to sleep.

She was only vaguely aware when a pair of strong arms scooped her up and placed her in a newly made bed. Something cool went across her forehead, then a pair of lips brushed her ear as they whispered, “Guess it’s my turn to take care of you.”

Barbara smiled, or at least she thought she did, before succumbing once again to sleep in a bed that smelled distinctly like her favorite person.

#barbara gordon #dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson whump #sickfic #batman fanfic #batman fanfiction #nightwing fic #batgirl #dick grayson/barbara gordon #whump

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ddixons-angel · 4 years

Text

Fated: Season 4

Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.

Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC

Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff)

A/N: New chapter is here~ Yay~~ Let’s just jump straight into it ^^ Let me know your thoughts on this one~!

Chapter 8

Gloria was sound asleep in her cell, her back to Daryl as she lay on her side, her front side facing the wall on the inner side of the bed. His arm was draped around her waist, spooning her close to him as he slept peacefully by her side. Their slumber was suddenly interrupted by distant screaming and gunshots firing within the prison. Daryl jolts up at the sound, startling Gloria awake at the sudden movement. She rubs her eyes of sleep with the back of her hand then looks to Daryl as he gets up from the bed.

“Get to the infirmary.” Daryl orders her as he picks up his crossbow and bolts out of the cell.

Gloria complies with his words, throwing on her army green jacket and equipping herself with her belt of daggers, she rushes to the infirmary. Seeing that a woman and her daughter are already there waiting for her in tears, Gloria ushers them into the infirmary, sitting them down and checking on them. They had minor scrapes and cuts on their arms and legs but nothing life threatening.

“What happened?” Gloria asks once she’s done patching up the two.

“Walkers...” the woman chokes out.

Her answer earns a baffled look from Gloria. How could walkers get into the prison? They’d cleared out the prison and blocked off any possible entrances, there was no way walkers could break into the walls, at least not without anyone knowing. After making sure the two are fine, she sends them off to the main area to find Rick, telling them that he’ll know what to do. A few more people come to the infirmary, Gloria recognizes them all as residents of Cell Block D. Now knowing that there was somehow a walker attack, she checks them all for bites. Fortunately, she only finds minor injuries, some worse than others but not a single bite. Gloria tells them the same thing she had told the woman with her daughter, to find Rick in the main area. Moments later, Hershel and Caleb meet Gloria at the infirmary.

“Hey, I heard there was a walker attack in Cell Block D.” Gloria states, concern evident in her voice, Hershel and Caleb both nod at her, “how’d they even get in?”

“That’s the thing, they didn’t.” Hershel starts, “one of the kids, Patrick, he died overnight because of a cold and turned.”

Gloria feels the blood drain from her face, “P-Patrick...? I saw him yesterday... he barely had a cold, how could he-”

“This is something that progressed extremely fast, it’s not your fault.” Caleb jumps in before Gloria could finish speaking, “none of us would have been able to see the signs.”

“I just told him to rest and drink lots of water and to see one of us in the morning if he doesn’t feel better...” Gloria slums down in the chair, looking down.

“We would have told him the same thing, Gloria.” Hershel tells her in attempts to comfort her.

Caleb nods, “we wouldn’t have seen his symptoms and think of them as deadly.”

Gloria sighs, her eyes welling up with tears, “I should have just given him antibiotics, then none of this would have happened, he might not have died...”

“Judging by how frail he was and with his immune system, antibiotics might not have done anything for him.” Hershel reminds her.

Accepting that there was nothing that she could have done, she nods and looks up at Hershel and Caleb, “so, what’s Rick’s plan?”

“How are we doing with antibiotics?” Hershel asks, gesturing to the bins, “if anyone else is infected with the cold or whatever it is, we need to be prepared.”

“The last time I checked, we were running low.” Gloria says as she gets up to check the bins where they kept the medicine, then sighs, “we don’t even have enough for even one person if they end up sick.”

Hershel purses his lips in deep thought, “we’re going to hold a council meeting tomorrow. For now, anyone who was in Cell Block D will be going to Cell Block A to be quarantined just in case.”

Gloria frowns at the mention of Cell Block A, “that’s death row...”

Hershel chuckles softly at her, “that’s the same tone Glenn used when Carol mentioned it earlier.”

“Are you sure you two aren’t twins?” Caleb jokes, grinning at her.

Gloria rolls her eyes playfully at him. The two other doctors take their leave as Gloria starts to tidy up the infirmary. As she’s putting back bins in their proper spots, Maggie appears at the door carrying Michonne with Carl beside them. Gloria looks at them and frowns.

“Are you guys okay?” she asks.

“Michonne hurt her ankle.” Maggie tells her as she lets the other woman sit on the patient bed.

“I’m fine.” Michonne grumbles but lets Gloria take a look at her ankle anyway.

She kneels in front of her, gently and carefully moving her ankle to examine how bad the damage is. Gloria takes notice every time Michonne tries not to let show that it hurts. Maggie had left the infirmary, telling the others that she needed to help Glenn and the others with the fence that was caving in from walkers.

“How bad is it?” Carl asks, standing beside Michonne.

“It’s sprained, not too badly though, but you should keep off it for now.” Gloria says, getting up to go to one of the shelves, “I’ll put a compression wrap on it to help it feel better”

Michonne nods as Gloria fishes out a package of compression bandage and goes back over to her. She kneels down again and starts to treat her ankle.

“Just like how you had to keep off your ankle for a month back at the farm?” Carl teases Gloria.

Gloria scoffs, “yes, exactly like that.”

“What happened?” Michonne tilts her head, slightly amused.

“I fell down a hill and sprained my ankle real bad. Daryl found me and took me back to Hershel’s farm.” Gloria squints at Carl, “and that’s where I found out that you got shot.”

Michonne gawks at Carl, “you never told me that.”

“Of course he didn’t, he only tells stories about when he looks cool.” Gloria teases back, earning a giggle from Carl.

“That’s not true! I told Michonne about when you took out that herd in the cabin even though you were really hurt because of Nina.” Carl retorts.

Gloria smirks at that, “thanks for spreading the word about me being a badass.”

Carl rolls his eyes and Michonne laughs, “I was sure Daryl would have killed her for that.”

“I thought so too, but thank God Rick was fast enough to hold both him and Glenn back.” Gloria says, then looks up at Michonne, “did you see her out there, by the way?”

Michonne sighs and shakes her head, “no, I didn’t see anyone out there, no Nina, no Governor, just walkers and trees.”

---

That night, Gloria was in her and Daryl’s cell sitting on the bed thinking about everything that happened that day and her mind drifted to her conversation with Michonne and Carl in the infirmary. She had taken off her jacket and was wearing a black tank top, her arms fully revealed to anyone who walked into the cell. Gloria hadn’t really thought about the incident, she just pushed it to the back of her mind since it was over and done with. Her hands wandered to the deep scars on her arms from when Nina had cut her to draw blood as a distraction for the walkers. They were the reason she never left her cell without a jacket or wearing a long sleeved shirt anymore, she needed something to cover up her scars. There wasn’t much she could do about the scar on her chest that always poked through the neck of her shirt, but she hated her scars on her arms. They gave her an insecurity she never felt before, and she wasn’t sure if she hated the feeling of being insecure more or her scars.

Daryl walks into the cell and sits beside her on the bed before letting himself fall back. Gloria glances over at him and smiles softly, subconsciously covering her arms with the blanket.

“Tired?” she asks.

“Exhausted.” he grumbles, his eyes closed, “Rick had to kill the pigs... needed to distract the walkers from breakin’ down the fence.”

Gloria sighs, “poor Carl... he was getting attached to them.”

There’s a silence between them as Daryl takes a long pause, “someone killed Karen and David.”

“W-what?” Gloria stares at him in shock, she knew that David and Karen had caught whatever influenza that killed Patrick and had them in another cell block away from the others, but she never thought anyone would ever think to kill them.

“Tyreese went to give Karen flowers but saw a trail of their blood... then found their bodies burnt to a crisp.” Daryl sighs.

Gloria didn’t know what to say, she could never imagine how Tyreese would be feeling. She wraps the blanket tighter around her arms, as if that would make everything better. Daryl opens his eyes as he notices her silence. He looks at her and sees her all wrapped up in the blanket. He lets out a breath, he never brought it up to her but he noticed how she became very insecure about her arms after her incident with Nina. He hated it. Daryl always saw her as beautiful, flawless, perfect. Even with her scars now, she was still perfect to him, but now those damn scars would prevent her from seeing it herself and that angered him.

Daryl sits up on the bed and moves closer to Gloria, tugging the blanket off her shoulders and wrapping his arm around her lower back, he plants a lingering kiss on the tip of the scar on her upper arm. Gloria looks at him and a small shy smile tugs at her lips. She reaches over to hold his hand that’s resting in his lap. Daryl moves up and kisses her shoulder then leans in, gently kissing her lips.

“Ya okay?” Daryl whispers on her lips.

Gloria nods, caressing his face with her other hand, “yeah, you should rest, you had a long day and there’s a council meeting early tomorrow morning.”

Daryl sighs at her reminder and nods. He shifts to lie down on the bed, pulling Gloria into his arms, causing her to giggle slightly as he holds her close, snuggling her as he drifts off to sleep.

---

Next Chapter

Now I know this is a super short chapter and not much happens, but it does get more intense at the start of the next chapter which will be up on Monday!!! Please let me know your thoughts on it and what you think will happen, I’m very curious to see where you think I’ll take it haha

I don’t like that I’m posting this part during these trying times though, it feels too relatable that it’s scary... BUT we will get through everything together! Stay safe and healthy everyone!!

And as always, I would really appreciate any comments left for me! I’ll be replying to any comments in a new post because this is a sideblog!

Taglist (please let me know if you’d list to be added/removed!):

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