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pinkrelish · 1 year

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𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐬, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐬.

ex-con!linecook!eddie x fem!reader

✶Steve messed up. He assured you over and over again that you could have the spare bedroom in his apartment, but while you took your time mulling over his offer, someone else moved in: his down-and-out best friend who needed a place to stay. When you show up at Steve's door with little warning due to your job relocating you, he suggests you and Eddie share the bedroom. Nothing wrong with that, right?

Besides the fact Eddie hated you, and in turn, you hated Eddie.✶

NSFW — smut, masturbation, eddie watches porn, dry humping, cumming in pants, reader flashes her bra & wears a pencil skirt, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, there was only one bed(room)

↳ teaser oneshot | [wc: 9.3k] | series tba!

⋅line cook hc from @bewilderedbunny⋅

Steve was a nice guy. Really.

He was your pen pal since meeting at summer camp when you were both eight-years-old. He was sweet, and wrote you back within a week, without fail. He was your first kiss one sweltering afternoon on the dock over the lake; a quick peck when the counselors weren’t looking. He was one of your first contacts in your flip phone, and his picture occupied the first circle when you got a smartphone, after pestering him to meet up with you in Indianapolis, snapping the pic at a crosswalk; a day where your conversations spanned nothing and everything. What was there to talk about when you talked via pencil, pen, markers, emojis, and photos for years, and suddenly forgot the past decade when you encircled your arms around each other?

He was a nice guy throughout all of college. He’d text you during class. You’d text him from states away, falling asleep at your dormroom desk. He worked at his father’s business. You started as an unpaid intern collecting coffee orders, and pulling all-nighters doing spreadsheet grunt work your superiors didn’t deem worthy of their time.

Stevie 🌞: just quit your job and live with me!

Stevie 🌞: I still have that spare bedroom

Stevie 🌞: rent free

Year after year, you always declined. Climbing the ranks at your job was important to you; and one day it paid off. They were relocating you to the Chicago, and if you didn’t take their pitiful relocation package, you’d get a decent advance on your next paycheck (which was dire considering your salary was roughly the same, despite the ever increasing cost of living); and knowing Steve always had that spare furnished bedroom, and most of your belongings could fit into your car (as long as you didn’t need to see out the rear window), it seemed like a done deal.

Until you surprised him.

You: hey! can i move in w you? my jobs relocating me to chicago and i might already be two hours out. sorry i didn’t text sooner. i had to leave my apartment asap. fuck paying for the damage cindy’s doberman did to that place 😬

Stevie 🌞: Lets talk when you get here

Stevie 🌞: I’ll meet you for coffee

Let’s talk? Never a good sign, even when he was smiling at you from over his latte.

————

“My friend needed the spare room, but he’s a good guy, I swear,” he told you.

“He’s just a little rough around the edges,” he told you.

“He’s understanding; I’m sure you two will get along,” he told you.

“He can make space in the closet for your stuff, and one of you can sleep on the couch,” he told you. “Maybe you can alternate! Bed, couch. It's not like I’m charging him rent, so he should be cool with you living with us until you can afford to move out, or whatever. No big deal. I don’t really care when, you know that. No rush.”

Right. Just share the room.

You weren’t present for the conversation; Steve and Eddie were in the bedroom while you stood awkwardly in the living room, but the result of the exchange made quite the first impression.

“I dunno,” Steve’s voice carried, “maybe you could work something out like you get the room Monday through Wednesday, and she gets it Thursday through Saturday. Sunday’s up in the air?”

“Oh, just share the room like I used to, huh?” Eddie asked, alluding to the life he lived several months ago. “Finally got some privacy to breathe around here, and now you’ve invited some chick to live with us without telling me? Actually–no–you invited her to live here. In my room. No heads up.”

Steve’s wince was audible in his heavy sigh. “You work weird hours, you probably won’t even have to interact with her. C’mon, man. She’s been my friend since we were kids, and it’s just until she finds her own place. She’s cool. She’ll sleep on the couch, or whatever if it really bothers you; just like, let her keep her clothes and shit in here, and let her use the computer for work.”

“Whatever, man.”

“Eddie, wait!”

Thunderous footsteps and a seething, “Fuck this,” followed the heightened emotions, and before you could straighten your spine, you were introduced to your new roommate.

His pace faltered, not expecting you to be standing there. The fine wrinkles in the outer corner of his eyes pinched tighter, and his long hair flowed around a faded black snake tattoo on his throat, stretching across the strained tendons it was inked over, reaching the twitching muscle in his jaw from his clenched teeth. It took him a narrow-eyed glance to sum you and your pink luggage up, and place you firmly in the ‘I don’t like you’ category in his mind, and he continued his march.

“Hi! I’m–”

Your outstretched hand went ignored as he passed you.

He shoved on his boots, and slammed the front door behind him, rattling every piece of metal in the apartment. You stared at where he was just standing, vision marked with a black silhouette of the good guy you’d be sharing intimate space with for the next.. however long, and still with your hand out, you swiveled to Steve. “Yeah, he seems nice.”

————

Eddie Munson glared at your very existence. He wore a permanent crease between his brows when you were in his vicinity. Apprehension tensed his muscles when your soft gaze slid from Steve, to him. There was distaste in his frown. He rolled his eyes when you laughed too loud at the TV. His voice was vitriol, words clipped when he had to speak to you. His shoulders hiked to his ears when you entered the kitchen for a glass of water and caught him mid-chew on his peanut butter and jelly sandwich after he got home from work. When it was your turn to sleep in the bed, he made it a point to come home as loud as possible–yanking open the drawers on the dresser, waking the computer to blazing home screen, and leaving the light on when he went to shower across the hallway, pretending he didn’t hear you grumble at him to turn it off.

You wore a sleep mask to bed after that.

And when you slept on the couch, it was the only time he cooked for himself. Scraping pans across the burners, clinking silverware, gathering his hair off his neck and twisting it between his laced fingers, creating a cradle for him to drop his head back and sigh at the ceiling, just loud enough to stir you from your sleep.

You wore earplugs to bed after that.

Eddie Munson made it known you were not welcomed in his territory, and saw your accidental warm smile thrown vaguely in his direction as a threat to his well being.

But as much as he ensured misery every second you had the fortune of spending in his presence, you weren’t so innocent of terrorizing his every waking moment either..

Soon, Monday through Wednesday, and Thursday through Saturday, and a chance at a lazy Sunday were not enough.

————

When Steve was home, he acted as the mediator when it came to you two being at each other’s throats after another vicious stare-off. Currently, Eddie was standing with his arms crossed, leaned against the counter with his cheeks darkened to a fleshy red, and you were pacing the kitchen, wrapped in a bath towel, stating your case to Steve. You argued since most of the hair clogging the drain belonged to Eddie, he should be the one to clean it. And Steve, not knowing how to interpret Eddie’s steely focus on the fridge as if you didn’t exist, nor the fact a woman was dripping wet and yelling at him, he put his hands up in defense.

He edged away from your ire until he was at the cabinet housing a toothpick dispenser, and depressed the mechanism for one to roll out. He snapped it, put his hands behind his back, and shuffled the two ends into his palm, and had you choose one. Eddie kept his gaze averted, but grasped the other.

You held the long end of the toothpick above your head with a smile to rival the kitchen’s daylight bulbs searing into your retinas. You were the winner, and Eddie was the loser who had to clean the bathroom.

This worked swell when Steve was around to mitigate the tension. But when he was on a business trip, or out on a date, the Bed Schedule was a formality at best, and largely ignored at worst.

Meaning, the bets, deals, and favors began.

They started small: Rock, paper, scissors; winner gets dibs on those just-washed sheets. Flip a coin and see who has to rough it in the living room for the next two nights. Draw the shorter toothpick and try not to stab it in Eddie’s eye when he smirked.

But those were childish games. It was the deals and favors that proved more interesting.

“Can you help me punch holes in these?” you asked, voice high and urgent as you rushed to grab your color coded pie charts from the printer and clip them into a presentation binder.

He scoffed from the bedroom doorway, smelling of fryer oil and bacon grease. “What makes you think I want to help you after cooking for assholes all night?”

“Because you’re nice, and you love me.”

“I despise you,” he corrected, crossing his arms tight over his chest. He shifted his weight from foot to foot while you organized the pages, resisting the bait to give him what he wants, but you knew in your heart it was the only way to not be late for work this morning.

“Fine. You can have the bed tonight.”

He stayed put. “Nope. You know I’m working the overnight shift until Thursday.” That way, he slept while you were at work, and you slept while he was at work.

You glanced at the blue dawn creeping in from the window, then red the time on your watch. “Okay, fine, whatever! Have it all next week. I don’t give a fuck, just help me!”

Reveling in his victory, his plush lips stretched into a wide grin, showing too much teeth. He sauntered at his leisure, closing his eyes half-way, and gazing at you down the long slope of his nose. “Good girl, I knew you could do it,” he mocked.

You wanted to strangle him.

–And another time–

“Shut the fuck up for an entire day, and you can have to whole fucking closet,” Eddie snapped after your fifth instance of complaining about your professional office clothes not having available hangers due to him taking them for his old, ratty band tees.

Centering yourself, you brushed the dust off your favorite pants after finding them wadded up on the floor, and whispered, “I hope a rogue knife finds its way into your thumb again tomorrow.”

You swore you saw his hand flex out the corner of your eye, reacting to your curse.

–And the week after that–

You: come help me bring up these groceries

You: elevators broken

You: we can race up the stairs

You: loser washes dishes and takes out the trash

😒dumb: as long as the loser doesn’t cry about it when she sleeps on the couch

You: whatever

😒dumb: i’ll even give you a head start to make it fair

Struck with being that person grinning down at your phone in the stuffy underground parking garage, you gilded your thumbs over the keyboard in a fluttery tease.

You: you just want an excuse to stare at my ass

It took Eddie longer to reply, fumbling with his phone to find the emoji keyboard, only to send–

😒dumb: 🙄

–And the week after that–

“Get a life, you fucking loser,” you yelled from within the metal cylinder of the dryer, bent over on your hands and knees to wrestle your silk blouse free from where it was tangled in a rope of bedsheets, after you told him–explicitly–to never wash it because he’d do it wrong.

He merely watched you struggle from the sidelines, informing you, “You’re the one who asked me to do laundry. Don’t toss your precious, delicate shirts on the bathroom floor if you don’t want them thrown in with everything else. And by the way, I did my part of the deal, so the room is still mine tonight.” As a bonus, he added as he walked away, “Suck my dick, sweetheart.”

Your gums ached from how hard you clenched your teeth. You didn’t leave your blouse on the floor. He did, when he went hunting for his wallet he left in his jeans, and dumped all the clothes out of both baskets, mixing your work clothes with his.

That night, you locked him out of the bedroom. Fuck him.

————

After tireless days of the same back and forth, the juvenile deals and favors were losing their significance. Someone needed to up the ante. And a certain line you two skirted taunted you both, but remained uncrossed until..

————

The hallway leading to your apartment was stale with inactivity. Most people had been home for hours, or were back from bars and crashed on the couch, drooling on their girlfriend’s favorite decorative pillow–the kind with the pom poms. You thought of them with envy. Snoring, dreaming of some blissful shit like sheep hopping a pasture fence. But not you. Your 9 to 5 extended far past those numbers on the clock. It skipped right over them, just like you were skipped over in meetings, being told the extra burden you were taking on was good for the company, and the programs you were learning would be paid in experience. Bullshit. You were tired, and the last thing you needed was some long haired man stubbing his toe on the coffee table to wake you up–morning or night.

But perhaps you were blessed.

You opened the door to near-darkness. Not a lamp, or TV on inside to show someone was home. Not a groan, sigh, or blast of music funneling from a set of oversized headphones. Not a creak of movement from the hallway, or bathroom; surrendering your heartbeat as the loudest feedback.

It appeared you were alone. What a wonderful thing.

The muffled thud of the low pile rug under your heels gave way to silky sweeps of plush carpet welcoming your aching pantyhose-covered feet. Moving further into the apartment, you knew the shapes to avoid in the dim light coming from above the stove, casting the coffee table and scattered stools at the breakfast bar in shadow.

Groggy from exhaustion, you blinked at the spice cabinet door Eddie left open before leaving for his shift. During a conversation with Steve, you let it slip that people who leave the cabinet doors open annoy you, so of course he began leaving one open as a greeting when you came home.

You closed it with your right hand, swinging your laptop bag wildly, and before you could react, the strap caught the top of the glass sugar jar and knocked it over in a wincing crash. Luckily, after peeping one eye open, you assessed nothing broke, but now there was a streak of glittery white dust on the countertop you definitely weren’t going to clean up.

Maybe you could strike a deal with Eddie to wipe it up for you. It was–in a way–his fault, since he left the cabinet door open. If you didn’t need to close it, none of this would’ve happened..

You made a gagging sound.

Since when did your immediate thought process swing to him, and how do you get it to stop? It was bad enough you peeked around the corner into the hallway, praying, praying, praying the bedroom light was off, and feeling your body slump with utter relief when it was. Being on the same planet as him was hell, you didn’t need your private thoughts to linger on him, too.

Mentally dismissing Eddie Munson from your brainspace, you invited yourself into the bedroom. You sought the cushy mattress to cradle your weary body after a long day, and the nest of cozy fleece blankets to swaddle you as you drifted to sleep. Unfortunately, the idiot’s pillow smelled far too much like him; cigarettes and cheap vanilla cologne combined with his hair products, burning your nose like toasted sugar. Despicable. Just the worst. You should exchange it with your own pillow, but you forgot it on the couch, and the couch was so very, very far away..

~~~

Eddie sat crouched in the alleyway outside of Benny’s Diner with a stubby cigarette balanced between his lips, blowing the smoke out in a slow exhale like a roll of fog on a misty morning. Cold emanated from the bricks pricking the expanse of his shoulders, and the night air chilled his damp shirt to his sticky skin, erupting goosebumps along his forearms. Standing around him were the other cooks on break. He didn’t share a common language with them outside of gestures, curse words, and kitchen lingo, but they gathered in a semi-circle as if to include him.

His shift was over. He’d technically clocked out, but he loitered until their vices were stomped under their shoes, and he snuffed his glowing ash on the wall behind him, and followed them inside.

Washing his hands first, he dried them on the towel tucked under the string of his apron tied around his waist, and set up a space on the flat top for him to occupy since the dinner rush had long since died, and the only patrons on the floor were drunks wandering in for greasy hashbrowns. He grabbed the four quart Cambro from the fridge beneath the prep area, and ladled enough batter for two large pancakes. Borrowing a station, he sliced up a ripe banana from the walk-in, and dropped it into a hot pan with a bit of butter, caramelizing them on the range while he waited for the pancakes to be flipped.

The guys behind him read off the few tickets, and carried their conversation from earlier. Eddie caught some of it, learning a few words here or there, but regardless of the language barrier, he knew they were talking about him. They were snickering with their heads together, pointing at the pancakes he was making despite being clocked out.

Eddie spoke with a sneaky grin, “If I make them for her, she’ll leave me the fuck alone on my day off.”

The guys may not have understood entirely what he meant, but his sunny disposition juxtaposed by his wry gaze communicated a universal plight: girls.

One of their hands landed hard between Eddie’s shoulder blades when they doubled over in a belly laugh, and the other one made whip-cracking sounds, calling him the same slang word he called the married cooks. It wasn’t worth it to attempt to correct them that these pancakes were not for his girl, but for his future migraine, so he hummed along with them, and flipped the pancakes with his right hand while tossing the bananas with a swift jerk of his left.

After their gossip, they went back to work, and Eddie grabbed a to-go container, loading it with the two pancakes and sliding the caramelized bananas on top. He brought it to the prep area to drizzle with chocolate sauce, and finished it off with heart-shaped strawberries, a dusting of powdered sugar, and a sprig of mint. He didn’t cut the strawberries that way with ulterior motives, it was just something he did when he had spare time in the morning. Cutting a wedge out of the stemmed top, and slicing them vertical. The customers liked it. It was cute, supposedly. There were no hidden intentions to him taking his time to place them just so around the box; it was merely him taking pride in how he plated his dish.

Clamping the container shut, he untied his apron, changed his shoes, and left out the back entrance, kicking pebbles under the crescent moon, and walking through the front door of the next building over. Gray concrete, a faulty elevator, ugly rugs to feign elegance, and high rise as far as ‘high rise when you live next a bunch of squatty buildings’ went. It was home, and it was blissfully dark inside.

Eddie worked his feet out of his tied-once-and-never-untied street shoes, and dropped his non-slip clogs next to them in a loud clatter.

He breathed. Inhaled deep. Sighed through his nose.

Quiet. Peaceful respite behind his eyelids.

The adrenaline ebbed. The hours of shouting and being shouted at, metal on metal clangs, timer beeps, and mechanical whirr of a ticket being printed out would never cease haunting his mind, but he should stop flinching from the imaginary sounds after a few hours. The pain stretching the length of his back should ease under a hot shower. The throbbing ache in his knees should lessen once he sleeps. The fatigue, like needles driven into his bones, should heal so he could be on his feet for thirteen more hours tomorrow.

Warmth worked its way beyond the calluses creating a barrier in his palm supporting the styrofoam container. Syrupy sweet hot sugar invaded his nostrils from the pancake bribe, battling the stench of his dried sweat and body odor baked into his t-shirt. The tiled entryway beneath his feet woke him out of his daze, and he slid his heavy-lidded gaze to the vacant couch; the comforter was folded, and the pillow was propped up, unslept on.

Briefly he wondered if you went out with your friends after work. But as he approached the kitchen, his dreams were crushed by a single closed cabinet door.

You were home.

You were home, and you weren’t on the couch, nor in the shower.

Eddie allowed his eyes to flutter closed as he hung his head back. In that position, he rolled the disappointment out of his shoulders, and braced them with something new.

Irritation.

Tamping the frustration in the pit of his stomach from bubbling up, he exhaled another calming breath, and opened the fridge, placing the pancakes exactly front and center amongst the fresh produce he was sometimes excited to create with, and sometimes slammed to the bottom of the trash when he was too exhausted and uninspired to do anything with their rotten corpses.

He prepared his expression into one of unbudging indifference. Flat, and unwilling to back down.

And yet, his nose scrunched when he pushed open the bedroom door, and there you were, as predicted, lounging amongst your hideous blankets spilling out from under you as if you were an opulent pearl nestled within an oyster shell.

The resentment built as he assessed your form delicately painted in a red glow from the ugly neon sign in the shape of a lipstick kiss tacked alongside his favorite band posters. He’d only lived with Steve long enough to feel comfortable decorating the blank walls, and you ruined the Rob Halford flow three days into your invasion. Your face was highlighted by the dim blue light of your laptop resting on your stomach, rising and falling with each gentle breath, and you were haloed by the Himalayan salt lamp crowding the nightstand. It’s trendy, you explained.

With vehemence, he flickered the light switch.

You cringed from the bright assault, and clacked your fingers on the keyboard, pretending you weren’t dozing off a second ago. “Can you go away?”

“What’re you doing in here?”

Unimpressed by his tone, you glazed your response in insolence. “What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m minding my own business.” At that, your attitude was solidified, along with how this interaction would go.

Eddie stared at you for a long minute. Not once did you acknowledge him. He watched your eyes dart across the screen, probably watching one of those Youtube videos where girls walked around exciting cities with a camera way too close to their face, and he dragged his gaze downwards, noticing you were still in your work clothes; though, your blouse and skirt were disheveled, and your pantyhose were discarded on the floor, still holding the vague shape of your legs, resembling a flattened rotisserie chicken.

He focused on your eyes again. Bloodshot, rimmed in red with a suggestion of water clinging to the outer corners where your eyelashes met, and sporting a hefty burden of bags beneath them.

“It’s Wednesday,” he reminded you, voice heavy in his chest, but sounding scratchy, and hollow. His throat was shot.

“Mm,” you hummed and glanced at the clock in the corner of your screen, “it’s Thursday, actually.”

White hot anger boiled in his veins, striking his skin like a leather lash. It simmered, popped, sizzled, boiled over. The yelling, the timers, the cacophonous clanging. The ticket machine, the keyboard, the stinging cut on his thumb. Smug fucking brat laying in his bed on his night to have it. It was sudden, it was stark, and it was hatred.

“Make a deal.”

“A deal?”

“A fucking deal,” he repeated. “You know, like we’ve been making?” He stopped himself short of calling you a dirty name, but you must’ve gathered it from his tongue’s hesitation, because you turned your head a few degrees to challenge his temper.

“Oh, lucky for you, there was a two-for-one deal at the store.”

You waved two middle fingers at him, showing a bit of teeth with your crooked grin.

The hatred festered, but not as vicious. The anger was there–oh, the anger was there–but the energy to keep this going hit its peak, and fizzled. There was no sense in reasoning with you. The pancakes in the fridge were for a different occasion, he couldn’t waste them on this, and he was too tired to come up with his own bet, deal, or favor. “Just think of something so we can get this over with,” he nearly begged.

After some consideration, you held your fist out for rock, paper, scissors.

“Where’s the option for a gun in my mouth?”

“Harsh,” you pouted. Instead, you pointed at the 20 sided die on the desk. He inclined his head, shaking it with a slow sort of intention, eyes wide to express his warning to knock it off, and give him a true answer, something to make this worthwhile.

Finding the whole ordeal dull, you returned your attention to your laptop, pressing the white earbud into your ear before unpausing the video.

It took seconds off his life, but you finally spoke again.

“How long were you in prison? Six years? Bet it’s been a while since you’ve seen one of these in the flesh.” Due to your satin cream blouse being unbuttoned at the neck, you dipped your thumb under the collar, and traced the vibrant temptation of your red bra strap in a long, deliberate stroke. You hooked the soft pad of your thumb under the luxury, and brought it out for his viewing pleasure. A moment later, you snapped it to your skin, and went back to typing, not once breaking concentration with your video.

Eddie’s fascination, however, was trained on the dainty crimson gift slipping under the shimmery cream, sliding against the soft slope of your shoulder.

Heat thrummed in his chest. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, sloshing his blood like viscous tidal waves, muting the clacky sound of your keyboard. Anger mixed with something more, something worse. It warmed his cheeks, and reignited the cold sweat prickling his back. It honed his curiosity, sinking every detail of the second tortoiseshell button on your blouse into his mind. Memorizing how the fabric around it went taut, and glinted honey at the height of your breath. Noticing how the bottom of your shirt was wrinkled and pulled slack, but still tucked into your pencil skirt. Remembering how the tight material hugged your thighs when you traipsed around the apartment. Although, the navy blue number was less defined now, fitting looser around your hips.

He didn’t know how long he was fixated by your clothing, until you sighed.

“Not enough for you?”

You asked it with forced casualness, he could tell. Your voice was too even, tone too polite, eyebrows too raised in mock indifference. You were introducing a line that had yet to be crossed. A door which, when opened, would give access to more possibilities than the usual bets, deals, and favors. An enticing offer, and he didn’t deny the nervous flutter of intrigue arousing his blood elsewhere.

But past the line was dangerous territory. Right? That’s where things got muddied, and feelings got involved.

Or maybe not. Because, above all else, he hated you, and you hated him.

This was a deal like any other.

“Maybe this’ll help,” you said, never breaking eyesight from the screen, its colors reflecting in your pupils.

You were the epitome of cool pinching the blouse between your fingers and slotting the buttons through the holes one after the other. Down, down, down to your navel, tugging either side of the shirt open, letting the elegant cream frame the aggressive scarlet.

Eddie was taken off guard.

The bra was more akin to lingerie than he expected. Its cups contained you like a poorly kept secret. Curves of red peonies covered your nipples–hard bud pressing against the center of the flower from the thrill of exploring a new end to your daily arguments. Your areolas peeked from between the petals, where the intricate lacework went see through, granting him a preview to the smooth flesh beneath.

Click clack, click clack, space bar, space bar, space bar, he swore you pressed your arms together to make your breasts rounder. Actually, he didn’t need to second guess. He saw the cusp of cleavage squish before his very eyes.

“Satisfied?” you inquired.

No, he ached.

The voice in his head was so automatic, so sure, he didn’t question it, either.

When he refused to verbalize the things which made him nauseous, his opulent pearl rolled onto her shoulder and lifted the laptop the pillow, turning over onto her stomach to engage with it solely, circling a manicured fingernail over the trackpad, and clicking.

To his surprise, the video on screen wasn’t of the vapid people you watched, but of a troubleshooting guide to the program your company was having you learn in order to teach it to the higher ups next week. (Or so he heard when you told Steve yesterday.) You tabbed out of the video, fixed a property in a column, checked the statistic it was evaluating, and added in an aesthetically pleasing green color before tabbing back.

He couldn’t parse how he felt about you having to do more thankless tasks off the clock, especially when you were clearly tired, but something else stole the last of his fiery anger, and doused his willpower to resist a glance.

Your habit of unzipping your skirt as soon as you walked into the apartment proved evident when you rolled over. The silky polyester lining slipped against your skin, shifting the long zipper from your hip to your backside. The halves parted, showing the end of the cream blouse, and a peek of skin. You adjusted how you laid, rocking your hips back and forth until you sank into the plush blankets, and propped your chin in your palm when you weren’t typing. Small movements working the skirt higher, and higher, bunching the fabric around the fat of your ass. Squirming, and stretching, tugging on your blouse, pulling, pulling, blouse, skirt, blouse, skirt, and then he saw it..

Red.

Delicate, feminine.

Tucked, hidden from anyone’s view but his, were the matching red panties to your bra. Trapped in a valley between thighs and ass, and stretching over the swell of your heat, embellishing the mouth watering desire in opaque lace strained firm against the outline of his treasure.

Eddie swallowed.

“Why’re you still in here?” you asked with a bite of annoyance. “You got to see a girl’s bra for the first time ever, probably. You should be celebrating, throwing yourself a party. In the living room. On the couch.”

The anger had returned like a slap of reality across his cheek. He narrowed his eyes at the back of your head, remembering why he loathed you with every fiber of his being. “I’ve seen a bra before.”

“Pictures don’t count.”

“Whatever, bitch.”

Your body jolted with a snort, and he flung open the door hard enough for it to bounce off the door stop. He heard your infuriating inhale, and slapped the lightswitch off, shutting the door behind him with excessive force before you could ask more demands of him. Gladly, he closed himself out of his own bedroom. The physical barrier under his trembling fist had never felt better, still gripping the knob as if he’d go back in there.

He wouldn’t.

He let go of the chilled metal and stalked down the hall, curbing himself from stomping out his frustration, only to throw himself onto the couch. Stomach burning with hunger, hatred. Chest heaving with rage. Pulse rising in his throat, beating against the ball chain necklace he wore. Breathing so hard, sounding as if he’d ran laps before collapsing onto his bed for the night, crossing his arms to squeeze his biceps, massaging his fingers down the muscle. Occupying himself. Distracting himself.

It wasn’t working.

He was mad.

Furious.

Draping his hand over his eyes, he gave himself a moment to make a decision, and pushed his bangs off his forehead. They stayed in their gravity defying position due to the oil. He needed to shower. He needed to clean himself of this day, and go to sleep. But he couldn’t.

The fever in his veins was too distracting. He needed to take care of it. Get rid of it.

Sitting up, he unfolded the comforter from the end of the couch, and propped the pillow against the armrest to angle his head slightly up, where he could see the hallway.

From his front pocket, he collected his phone and laid it on his stomach while he unbuttoned his pants, pinching the waistband together and pulling the zipper down, sighing through his nose at the relief of the lines he was crossing.

He grasped his phone and brought it close to his face. Cupped in one palm, and using the other hand to tap it twice. A streak of perspiration was left on the screen where he swiped in his passcode, using his index finger to open a private browser and type in a porn site. Any porn site. Whichever variation of the word porn + noun he thought of first. It didn’t matter much to him; that’s not where his preferences lie.

office worker

co-worker

secretary

office worker tight skirt

office worker pov skirt grinding

His brain went stupid for synonyms trying to narrow down his search. He didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but he knew the ultra HD, professionally lit, fakey acting wasn’t it. He scrolled, and scrolled. Narrowed his search again. Ticked off boxes on the side. Tried broader genres. Went back to the results he was on, and traveled down the rabbit hole a few more pages until, at last, he found what suited him.

The thumbnail appeared promising. Dimly lit, sorta bad quality, and clearly shot at home with a woman whose body type wasn’t far off from what he was hoping for. He even appreciated the visual similarities in the amateur actress’ navy blue skirt, and off-white blouse. As long as he scrolled down a tad to crop out her face, it was perfect. Plus, it was easier to insert himself into the scene that way.

He clicked it, and– ”Jesus Christ,” he turned down the volume as quickly as he could, accidentally pressing down the two buttons on the side that took a screenshot and saved it to his gallery.

The video started a little further into the act than he anticipated.

Such a fucking idiot, Eddie, Jesus Christ. Sitting in thick silence, he waited to see if you’d heard, and once his face calmed of the embarrassed flush stinging his cheeks, he moved on.

Eddie worked his right hand under the comforter, but heeded his boxers as a layer of separation. At the first contact with the parts of him he denied aching for the bane of his existence, he allowed his eyes to flutter closed. Gently, he raked his fingernails down the base of his shaft, and over his balls. He cupped them. Felt their heft. Cradled them and dragged them softly upwards, letting them fall and stretch before repeating the motion, enjoying the tickly sensation of being the first thing he touched. His most sensitive, most susceptible part of himself. Meanly ignoring the other part of him twitching, throbbing, begging to be catered to.

He kept some fraction of his brain alert to the hallway, senses sharpened by the spike of adrenaline, listening out for any sound of you exiting the room. But most of him was focused on hitting the play button, sticking to his decision that he couldn’t wait to do this in the shower. He needed it now.

It started with the woman already in motion. Shot from the guy’s point of view laying on the bed, his obvious hardon pressing through his slacks into her pussy grinding down on him. Her skirt lifted with each motion, showing her black underwear. Not that he was complaining they weren’t red, but he didn’t concentrate on them.

He switched from playing with his balls to gripping his cock. Finally. It buzzed with the rush of pleasure, harder than it had ever been, even in his youth. His fingers hardly met through his boxers, but he encircled them the best he could, and started with fast, desperate, stunted strokes, getting himself to where the guy in the video was in a matter of pent-up seconds, clenching his ass to buck his hips up. Heart pounding. Inhales shaky from the speed at which he took care of his problem, exhales interrupted by muted huffs.

Maybe he should be embarrassed, but it didn’t take him long to feel that encouragement to keep going, keep going, keep going. Where each frantic pump along his length was better than the last. Where each accidental graze of his fingers over the lipped edge of his tip sprinted towards his bliss.

In the video, the woman dipped a finger between her lips and moved her panties aside.

There was a low hum in the back of his throat, engrossed by the wet warmth opposed to his dry fist.

Metal knob turning–door creaking–carpet groaning, step, step, step–

It was a fucking miracle he managed to close out of the window in his panic. His thumb missed it the first two times as fear coated him in a cold sweat, and the phone fell out of his palm, smacking him in the chin as you rounded the corner.

You didn’t spare him the time of day as you walked into the kitchen and got a glass from the cabinet. Didn’t bother looking at him as you stood at the fridge with your hip cocked out, holding the cup under the outer dispenser and depressing the button for ice.

The fridge made a mechanical whirr, and filled your glass. Ker-chunk, ker-chunk, ker-chunk, the ice cubes tinked into the cup for the longest seconds of his life. His hand was frozen mid-tug on his dick, and you were wearing an oversized t-shirt, and nothing else. Truly, it hardly covered your ass. It clung to your hips, brushed the height of your thighs, and suddenly, he was checking how obvious the bulk of the comforter was over his lap, and if it creased when he moved his hand upwards.

Nothing. Not a fold out of place. He could keep it up. Stroke, by stroke, brushing his fingers over the head only, testing his limits to keep discreet while you switched to the other spout on the fridge for water.

Even when you turned to him, he massaged himself over his boxers, soaking the sticky slick beads of precum into the fabric.

“What?”

Your tone didn’t deter him from tracing the underside of his swollen head, caressing the glans with the same sort of sentiment he experienced in the homemade porn between a real couple–all gentle and nice.

He mustered enough brain cells to respond, “What? I’m already sleeping on the couch. Can’t you leave me alone for one night? Or are you that desperate for attention?”

None the wiser, you took a sip from your glass, and folded your other arm across your stomach, making it obvious from the natural sway that you weren’t wearing a bra. Probably weren’t wearing panties either..

Swallowing the ice cold water with a satisfied ‘ah’, you went on your merry way. “Just came to gawk at the bridge troll, is all. Night night!” Your annoying farewell was followed by the creak of the door, and the faint click of it closing.

What a fucking irritating person.

The anger bristled again. Definitely anger. It was there, lurking, when he rubbed at the sore spot on his chin and picked up his phone, unlocking it to stare at the homescreen.

There was no patience within him to find the video. Besides, the sanitized professional thumbnails on the homepage were enough to have him dropping his phone to the cushion crevices beside him, surrendering himself to his imagination. Nothing lived up to the scenarios in his head, anyway.

Before getting ahead of himself, he slid his fingers beneath the elastic waistband, and gripped himself wholly. There was no sense in denying what he wanted: the raw desire of his hand wrapped firmly around his cock, not caring about creating a mess. It could be cleaned up later. He needed this. Now.

He immersed himself in the fantasy.

The visuals took place minutes ago, if he hadn’t backed down. It was based on you refusing to give him the bed, and instead of walking away from your bratty attitude, he lifted his chin, and broadened his chest with a confidence he didn’t possess. Fantasy Eddie had the courage to kneel on the mattress like he belonged there. Your body would dip, rock towards his imposing knees straddling either side of your calves, and in his strongest dreams, he acted out what should’ve happened.

If he had his way, he would begin with your hips. A single strong palm on the curve would have you hiking them up to greet him, and he was a gentleman. As soon as you presented him with the opportunity, he was scrambling to spread your legs so he could dip between them, eager to please. He wanted to know the sensation of coarse red lace scratching across his tongue; it would be a novelty only he would know. His hands would be on your upper thighs, bringing you closer, closer, to where his mouth awaited you. Persuading your face to the sheets. Putting a wicked arch in your back, granting him permission.

He’d angle his mouth to your clothed clit and collect spit to his bottom lip, parting, and lapping his tongue over the pretty thing, suckling it through the fabric. His nose would be to your cunt, inhaling the musky pheromones. Didn’t matter how long you’d been at work, proving yourself to people who would never appreciate you like he did. He cherished every bit of you so much. The heady scent intoxicated him like a drug, the dimples when he smashed the fat of your ass around his face, your silly whine when he pressed kisses up your pretty pussy. The anger was gone. Like that, he adored you. After all, you craved him. And it’d been a long time since he was wanted. It felt nice to not be rejected.

Eddie, Fantasy You gasped when the wet sound of him sucking your clit through your panties grew in fervor. He was drunk on you. Trying hard. Giving more. Licking at the dark patch he created. God, he loved it. He loved the evidence. He could suckle, moan, flatten his tongue like torture and just breathe on you until he fell asleep, waking up to nudge his teeth over the sensitive areas you presented to him. Spending hours getting you to your peak, over and over.

But in reality, he was approaching his end rather quickly.

My turn, sweetheart, he regretfully informed you.

Getting to his knees, he positioned himself behind you. His cock slotted so nicely against you; red lace meeting unzipped gray uniform pants, and he wasted no time stoking the flames from where he left off.

He clapped your cheeks around the hard outline of his cock. His black boxers stretched to their limits to contain him. There was a dark patch at the tip peeking out between your ass, growing with each slow, assertive grind he committed to, fucking himself into the curve of your cunt with ragged breaths. Losing himself. Mouth agape, and eyebrows pinched as his needy head was swallowed when he rocked his hips back, and reappeared with a rough thrust.

Again, it didn’t take long until he needed a break to make himself last longer.

He draped his weight over you as he slid his rough, calloused palms up the backs of your thighs, creating goosebumps along the sensitive flesh on his way to your sorry excuse for skirt. He bunched the pitiful thing to your waist, and reached for the hem of your shirt.

You hummed in approval, pressing against his lap.

It was hard to balance, but you supported him as he yanked your blouse up–sucking in a sharp breath when you moaned, and rutted yourself on his length–and he brushed his fingers along your soft skin in search for the bra clasp, and when he found it, he pulled the band tight. The latch gave. He caught sudden heft in his palm, cupping you and the bra together, massaging lightly until your nipple slotted between the base of two of his fingers, and he applied the gentlest pressure.

Oh fuck, you whined so nicely for him.

They’re extra sensitive after being caged all day, you explained.

Yeah? Does it feel good?

You nodded, cheek smashed against the wrinkled sheets.

He pinched harder.

Saliva gathered at the corner of your lips, spilling in a sticky string as you dragged your head in another nod, heavy-lidded eyes just visible through your lashes, open mouth panting for him.

True satisfaction spread like weightlessness from the pit of anger in his stomach. He wasn’t supposed to be making you feel good, not the person ruining the one place he found peace after six years of paranoia, but here he was, wishing the taste of your pussy lasted longer in his mouth. Here he was, anchoring his forearm alongside yours, gripping the same sheet you gripped while he beared his weight down on you, and pressed kisses to your clothed shoulders.

His other hand was trapped between you and the bed, but each pulse around your nipple was another long stroke on his cock.

The scene had been set. The build up and story line were crafted. Now, he could play.

He worked kisses under your collar, tasting the sheen of sweat at your hairline, leaving trails of spit to cool as he lolled his head on top of yours, resting his forehead amongst your hair, and he put his lips to the shell of your ear, feeling you shiver beneath him.

Do you think you can treat me that way, and get away with it? Fantasy Him asked. Think you can boss me around whenever you want? He punctuated his question with a hard, unexpected thrust, earning a gasp from your pretty mouth.

Turn over. He didn’t command it verbally, but when he took away his hand to smack the side of your ass, and sat back, you were aware of his unstated switch in position.

You laid on your back, legs spread for him. Skirt bunched around your hips, blouse fallen open, except for the one button remaining. He grasped his cock, and stroked himself through his boxers for you. His brows were drawn together in a gentle question, gaze locked onto yours. This was supposed to be about him, but he still asked, Is this okay? Is this what you want?

The source of his anger, his rage, his frustration–all the blame, burdens, and negativity he attributed to a single woman–opened her arms to him, and nodded.

He passed over your pussy to praise kisses to your stomach. Deft fingers working to undo the last button on your blouse, and explore upwards. Wet smacks of his sloppy gifts arched your back the higher he traveled, molding his large hands to your body. Brushing his rough fingers to the junction of your inner thigh and hip, and spreading you open so your pussy swallowed the fabric, wedging the red lace tight to your clit for later. Up, up, his kisses covered you, until he nosed at the underwire of your bra, and lifted it out of the way.

Fuck, Eddie.

You pushed his hair out of his face. The shorter curls fell from the low bun at his nape, and you tucked them behind his ear so you could watch his tongue lap and swirl at your nipple. Your fluttery moans were heaven, as were your tits being shoved in his mouth. You squirmed for him, clamored for him. You wanted him, needed him. Did you care that his hair was greasy? Did you care that dried salt crystals from sweat scratched your fingers when you cradled his jaw? Did you care about his smell from thirteen hours of being in a hot kitchen when you cupped him under the armpits, encouraging him with a buck of your hips to get back to business?

He supposed not, since it was his fantasy.

But just like reality, you were trying to boss him around.

Want me to fuck you, sweetheart?

You could hardly meet his gaze, eyes so heavy with lust you couldn’t keep them open long enough to beg.

He aligned himself, nudging the tip of his cock to your clit, and he savored the experience of watching the bliss wash over you. It took him a beat to realize, but he moaned in response to your moan. Watching you react from where he picked up his head from your chest, memorizing the fake vision of your face losing the usual harsh distaste for him. Your lips were better this way–lush, and making an effort to sound out his name as he drew his hips back–not sneering because you had the displeasure of asking him a question.

Still, he drove forward with haste. Cotton on lace. Layers of separation. Anything else was too intimate for how he wanted to fuck you, rough and fast, caring only about himself and not about your poor neglected clit, swollen and pleading for his soft tongue, only to get rough, unmeasured thrusts. Messy, and unintentional, and denying. Until you made them work for you.

You used the meat of his shoulders as leverage. Digging your fingers in, holding tight as you rocked with him and raised your legs, wrapping them around his ass. The squeeze of your thighs, and pressure built from your locked ankles tipped you into a better position, and now, his entire length was flush to your clit, not simply passing over the top of it.

All of him was touching you, touching you, touching you. Trapping his cock between your stomachs, damp with reignited sweat. Back to rutting against one another at a desperate pace, chasing the tension, the high. The snap of his hips. Your stuttered groans for more. The anger, the hatred. Festering under the surface, bubbling in your insolence. Present in his teeth grazing your throat, nipping at the pulse, kissing, sucking, licking, tasting.

You’re gonna make me cum. Even Fantasy You said it in a lower register, reaching where the molten resentment laid dormant.

He found the same gravelly animosity and warned you, “I’m too close, I’m too close.”

You cradled him tighter, burying your heads in each other’s embrace. Muscles quivering from effort, burning with each grind, tensing under curious hands finding new places to cling to, curves to admire. Until they stayed put.

Nails bit flesh. Strong fingers dug painfully at bone. Mouths fell open. Eyes closed. Writhing flesh on fabric, and flesh, you trembled under him.

I’m–mm, Eddie–I’m cumming–

His thrusts faltered, jerking into short bursts, and his gracious moans went high and tight in his throat, spilling out as he panted, “You make me feel so good, baby. Fucked you so good. I can’t–I’m cumming–fuck–”

Fuck, Eddie–Fuck, Eddie–Fuck, Eddie–

–”Fuck,” he babbled aloud.

The climax took him to the dark apartment. The overwhelming shadows of sleeping in the lonely living room on the flat couch under an extra blanket not yet broken of its factory starch, scratchy on the skin. His muscles were still tensed into him curling in on himself, lifting his aching neck and shoulders off the pillow for a few more pumps of his hand sliding over his slick shaft, spreading the warmth oozing towards his hip, no doubt tangling the curly thatch of hair above the base. In lip-biting silence, he stroked himself, not daring to breathe after he knew he said something out loud from his imagination. He listened. Eyes straining to see the hallway.

His bangs stuck to the heavy sweat on his forehead.

His entire body was heated beyond belief.

Anticipation sat heavy on his tongue.

But as he came down from his peak, nothing happened. He stayed lonely. His heartbeat pounded against the guitar pick sticking to his chest, and that was it. Now his head was cleared of distractions, and he could sleep. The fantasy was a fantasy, and in this reality, he wouldn’t do this again. It was too weird to muddy the multitude of negative feelings he had for you with.. whatever this was.

A release, that’s what this was.

Kicking the blanket off, he swung his legs to the side to sit up, socked feet softened by the plush carpet. He pressed his palm over the sticky substance dripping downward, and soaked it up to the best of his ability. And as his cum hit the fresh air, and his inhale was cut short as he smelled his shirt, he thought about the shower he needed. And he thought about the dark patch on his boxers. And he thought about his clothes in the dresser in the bedroom.

Looking down, he inspected his gray pants, and groaned.

They were ruined.

So, so ruined and obvious as to what he was doing.

There was no way he could go into there and grab new clothes for a shower. The thought of facing you after this, and you seeing him in this pathetic state–and God, if you knew it was because of you, and because he couldn’t control himself–he’d rather die than admit you did this to him.

Fuck.

Couldn’t even go to his own room for some fucking clothes so he could shower after working all day.

Yeah, that confirmed it. He fucking hated you.

Hated you even more when he thought about you sleeping on his mattress, wrapped snug in his bedsheets wearing only a t-shirt with nothing else to cover you, and his dick twitched again for that red lace he knew was discarded in the laundry basket.

“Fuck my life.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #linecook!eddie #roommate!eddie #ex-con!eddie

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filmofhybe · 6 months

Note

hii!! can i request how enha would accidentally reveal their relationship with idol!reader?

enhypen accidentally revealing their relationship

pairing : ot7! x reader genre : fan x Idol , fluff 793 words warning : none really

a/n : I have skl next week again so imma try clearing up all my request by Sunday and Monday 😭

> masterlist of my other works

정원 jungwon + 희 승 heeseung

The ones that will try to keep it professional. But they can’t contain their blushing and they just want to punch themselves in the face. Covering their red face or even their red ears as the interviewer is also shocked by the news. Since the interview was live, everyone than took it to social media immediately to spread love and support to both of you. But he made a big promise on the interview which made everyone melt.

“So jungwon / heeseung who do you love the most in your life.”

“Besides my family, I really love my girlfriend, y/n y/l/n- wait. Omg.Wait.Is this live?”

“STOP WHAT YOUR DATING Y/N..?”

“omg I didn’t mean to reveal it..”

“oh my goodness this just caught me so off guard.”

“everyone is saying stop covering your cute blushing face hahaha!!”

“Guys I didn’t mean to reveal it but please show us lots of support we are trying our best thank you so much.”

“I will take care of my dear y/n so her fans don’t have to worry!”

“Ahh young love these days are so cute wishing you both the best! Let’s move on to another question!”

박종성 Park Jeongseong + 심재윤 Sim Jaeyun +성훈 Sunghoon

The ones that didn’t even realize they said it out loud and also the ones that doesn’t care if they revealed it or not🙃 had to pause and process did they just revealed your relationship to the internet. But they didn’t care and continued to show you off, even pictures of you both on dates and your daily dog walks😭

“so how’s life been for you?”

“Is been so good I’m living with my girlfriend and our dog-”

“wait what your dating? Dating who?”

“y/n y/l/n, is it not- oh shit I’m sorry I didn’t realize. I got too ahead of myself anyways..”

“we have been doing so well. She’s really sweet and recently I got her a promise ring which is the one she’s currently wearing in this picture. And this is her walking our dog. And this is a recent picture we took at her brother’s wedding.” (Bro was so proud)

“bro just exposed his own relationship before his own company?” The interviewed was like 😦😅

“The company is taking the piss they make me go insane I’ll be so real with you.”

fans was laughing at his comment about the company but also super nice about your relationship and they are glad he found someone to take good care of him.

선우 Sunoo + にしむらりき Nishimura Riki

the clueless ones. The ones that tries to cover up. Saying you are just his celebrity crush but obviously fans knows is not true from the amounts of obvious interaction between you both on Music Award Shows as well as the vlogs. Fans would be shock cuz you both are literally opposite of each other (the sunshine x midnight duo😝). But they are all so happy you guys are together because you fit each other so well. It was just an unexpected duo.

“So who is your celebrity crush?”

“My girlfriend- I mean my crush is y/n y/l/n. Her style and personality is really cute- I’m sorry haha..”

“Oop I guess we know what’s going on right?”

“ah… didn’t mean to reveal that much…” he was now covering his face from embarrassment

“Is okay! Wishing you both the best!”

Comes home and whines how everyone knows now but at least he gets to show you off!!

series taglist : @surefornext @spilled-coffee-cup @skepvids @amymyli @in-somnias-world @okjaeminn @nonotwice1 @thinkmyg @blubbfsh

Reblog , comment or dm to be on my perm taglist !

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muffinpink02 · 1 month

Text

Bronze Is Better Then Gold

part 2 here

Summary - Ona has transferred to a new police force, she meets her partner, Lucy Bronze. The girls hit it off right away, flirting at every chance they can get. But will Lucy’s past get in the way?

This is an AU story, but its got most of the girls from the lionesses featuring. People seem to like it so thought you guys might too.

Warnings - some suggestive scenes (lets keep it 18 and above) lots of angst, gun violence, smut to come in last chapter (chapter 4)

Ona shivered from the crisp cold morning air. It had just hit the start of October and the signs of autumn were already showing. Even after nearly five years of living in the UK the Spaniard still hadn’t got used to the cold English weather.

She drank the last sip of her coffee, taking in the grey building in front of her. Her new place of work.

She watched as a couple of uniformed police officers walked into the building, talking amongst themselves. She took in a deep breath, trying her best to shake off the first day nerves.

It was her first day at the new firm. She had been personally scouted from the Chief Constable to have a chat. When asked if she wanted to transfer it was an easy yes for Ona. The building was closer to home, it was a day shorter in the working week with Mondays off. And the Chief Constable was well known to be excellent at her job. Her team was one of the best in the city of London. She was definitely someone Ona wanted to be working under.

She dashed her empty coffee cup in a nearby bin and made her way to the buildings reception, where she was greeted by a very overly happy receptionist. Not something that she was used to back in her old firm or in London for that matter.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” The blonde smiled brightly up at Ona.

Ona cleared her throat. “Good morning, I’m Ona Battle, it’s my first day today, I was told to go to reception.”

“Ohh lovely! Welcome! I have all the bits you’ll need.”

Ona smiled at the bubbly blonde. She glanced at her name tag, Esme Morgan.

The blonde grabbed a folder that had lots of paper work inside, she handed it over to Ona.

“Right here’s all the bits you’ll need from me, I’ll take you over to Sarina, the ‘important’ part of the building. I’m Esme by the way. Follow me.”

The blonde was taller than Ona expected her to be, but that wasn’t hard in Ona’s experience, most people in the room were always taller than the Spaniard, unless they were under the age of ten.

“You’ve met Sarina right?” The blonde smiled.

Esme reminded Ona of an excited puppy in the nicest possible way, the girl was full of beans.

“Ahh yes, on video call. She’s really nice.”

“Oh yeah she is, she’s like a mum away from your own mum. Well that’s how I see her.”

Ona smiled, she liked this girl, she wasn’t like your usual Brit, she was genuinely cheery. Not fake cheery, but someone who actually seemed happy.

They walked down a long green corridor, Ona looked over at the pictures on the wall of police officers from across the years, even going back as far as the 18th century.

“We’ve heard such good things about you. I know Sarinas really happy that you joined us.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard good things about this branch. I could never have said no.”

Esme smiled, she had a happy bounce to her as she walked, her cheerful character was almost infectious.

“Ahh that’s great. I hope you like it here, we’ve got a lovely bunch on the team. Do you know who your partner is?”

“Ahh that’s good to hear. Erm I’m going to be working with Gold.”

“Gold? Who’s Gold? I didn’t know we had a gold.” Esme’s face scrunched in confusion.

Ona rattled her brain for the right translation, she was sure it was gold, or was it?

“Oh do you mean Bronze?”

Ona laughed, just slightly embarrassed of her mix up.

“Ahh yes, sorry I haven’t got my elements down.”

Esme smiled widely, Ona couldn’t help but smile back.

“Oh yeah, neither have I, don’t worry about it.” She laughed to herself, turning a corner with Ona following.

“Yeah Bronze is a lovely girl. She’s such a hard worker, one of the hardest workers on the team actually. You’re lucky to have her as your partner.”

Ona smiled, she already liked the sound of her new partner, but she had to try and forget ‘Gold’ and remember Bronze.

But little did Ona know that wouldn’t be hard.

They stopped outside a room with a plaque ingrained with ‘S Weigman’ on the door. Esme knocked a cheery tune.

In a heartbeat she heard a women’s voice coming from inside.

“Come in Esme.”

Esme opened the door motioning for Ona to enter.

“Right, here we are, this is where I leave you. Sarina will take it from here. Good luck today and if you need anything you know where to find me.”

“Thank you Esme, it was lovely to meet you.”

Esme nodded, a happy smile still sitting on her face.

“Oh by the way, Claudia called, she’s had to cancel the 10 o’clock meeting.”

Sarina nodded, smiling fondly at the blonde, it was as if she was looking at a young child.

“Thank you Esme, and thank you for bringing Ona.”

The bubbly blonde nodded and bounced off, waving at everyone she passed in the corridor. Ona couldn’t help but smile again at the brightness that Esme left on her mood.

“Ona! Please come in. It’s so good to finally meet you in person, I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’ve joined us. Come take a seat. Do you want a tea or coffee, a cold drink?”

Ona took a seat in front of Sarinas desk.

“Oh no, I’m okay, I just had a coffee. Thank you.”

Sarina nodded, smiling at the young girl in front of her.

“Okay, well firstly welcome. I know I’ve said it already but I’m so excited to have you on the team. Emma told me how much of a hard worker you are, you’ve accomplished so much at such a young age. It’s incredible. Emma did not let you go easy! But I’m glad you were happy to move to us.”

Ona smiled at her feet, feeling slightly shy at the compliments.

“Ahh thank you. It’s just part of the role, I really enjoy my job. And yes the move felt right, I had been there since I moved to London, so it was nice for a change. I’ve also heard a lot about you and your team. You’re well known how efficient your squad run.”

Sarina smiled and nodded, taking in the girl in front of her.

“So where are you from? That’s not a British accent I can hear.”

Ona laughed. “I’m from Spain, Catalonia. I’ve been in the UK nearly five years.”

“I see, so why police here and not Spain? What made you move here?”

Ona played with her fingers. “I was in the police force back in Spain, I joined when I was 18 but I wanted a change. I love my city but things didn’t work out how I wanted. I’ve always loved the UK and the people. There’s something special about it.”

Sarina nodded again, smiling warmly at the younger girl.

“I can understand, I’m originally from the Netherlands. I came here to study and never left. I then found my now husband and have lived here ever since.”

Ona nodded, smiling at the women. “The UK spoke to both of us.”

Sarina hummed in agreement. “It did indeed. Do you ever go back home much?”

Ona played with her fingers again, feeling a little uncomfortable. She kept her eyes casted down.

“Erm, not really. I went back once but that’s all.”

Sarina noticed the change in the younger women. She didn’t want to push so she changed the subject.

“Well, these next couple of days I just want you to get to know the team and the building and how we work here. I don’t want to throw you right in the deep end, even though I know you can handle it. I like my staff to feel comfortable first. Bronze and the team will be going on a raid next week. You’ll be joining them.”

Ona nodded. “Okay, that sounds good. I’m really looking forward to meeting everyone and getting stuck in.” She smiled at the older women.

“And I want you to know I am always here if you need to talk about anything, from work, to general life. We have our therapist on site that we ask you to at least see once every two weeks but you can go as much as you want.

Ona now understood what Esme meant about Sarina being a mother figure, she could sense a genuine care from the older women but also a firmness to her.

The Spaniard nodded and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Great, I’ll take you on a tour of the building and you can meet the team and meet your partner.”

Sarina showed Ona around the building, stopping off at certain floors that Ona would need in the future.

They then walked into the main office, where it looked like most of the staff worked. Ona suddenly felt a little nervous, she was fine with meeting new people, she was a social butterfly really, but it was always daunting meeting your new work colleagues.

“Nobbs, Stokes, come and meet Ona Battle, it’s her first day and I want you to make sure she settles in.”

Two short women smiled brightly at Ona, both walking towards her.

“Hello, I’m Jordan or Nobbs. It’s nice to meet you.” She reached her hand out to shake Ona’s.

“Hello Jordan, lovely to meet you.”

“I’m Demi or Stokes. Really happy to have you on the team.” The slightly taller woman also holding her hand out for Ona.

Ona smiled, shaking Demis hand.

“Hello Demi. Also lovely to meet you.”

“You’ll be working a lot with DC Nobbs and DC Stokes. They’re some of the best Detective Constables I’ve ever worked with.”

Serina patted Demi on the back. Looking at the girls like a proud mum.

“Yeah, yeah. You say that about everyone.” Demi rolled her eyes, joking with her superior.

“No? Do I? Oh just the good ones then.” Sarina winked at the Spaniard. Causing the group to laugh.

Ona once again could see the pride this woman had for her team, it was refreshing to see. It definitely wasn’t something she was used to in her old firm.

Demi then spoke. “We’ve heard only good things about you Ona.”

A slight tint of pink rushed to Ona’s cheeks.

“I’m scared I’ve got to live up to this reputation now.”

All four of the women laughed.

“Don’t worry. You have Bronze as a partner, she’ll make sure you live up to it.” A new voice entered the chat.

Ona turned around to face a women even taller then Esme. A cup of coffee in hand.

“Don’t try and scare her Scott.” Jordan scolded the older women.

The taller women laughed at her own joke. She stuck her hand out for Ona to take.

“I’m only joking. I’m Scott, it’s good to have you on the team.”

Ona noticed her thick Northern accent, she knew she’d have to listen extra hard when speaking with the tall woman.

“Thank you, it’s great to meet you.” Ona smiled.

“Ona, this is our SFC Jill Scott, one of the best I’ve ever worked with.”

“That’s true.” Jill took a sip of her coffee looking pleased with herself, while the other two girls rolled their eyes at the banter.

“Where is Bronze?” Sarina looked around the room.

“Gym.” In unison all three of the girls replied.

Ona quirked an eye brow at the response

“That girl! I told her to be here to meet Ona.”

“She probably wanted her muscles to look extra big to show off.” Jordan laughed.

“Yeah, like she needs them any bigger.” Jill took another sip of her coffee.

“Jealousy is a shit trait to have Scott.”

Another voice entered the conversation.

“Ahh Luce, you know I’m only joking. I am indeed just jealous.” Jill laughed.

Ona turned around wanting to give the new voice a face.

Wow.

Ona nearly forgot how to breathe, the woman standing in front of her was stunning. She took in the girl in front of her, she had almond shaped eyes, filled with a beautiful intense shade of green. Like Ona she had a face covered in freckles but a lot less dark and less condensed.

Her face was strong and soft at the same time, her jawline was perfectly defined, yet her other features were soft and feminine, she was gorgeous.

Her face was flushed, a thin layer of sweat glistening over her muscular arms and neck. Her dark hair was wet and scraped back, small curls escaping the messy bun, clearly wet from the gym that the girls had mentioned.

Ona was lost for words, the girl was beautiful.

“Ona this is CI Bronze, she’s going to be there for whatever you need, all of the girls will be, but Bronze is your go to girl.”

Lucy couldn’t hold back the smile that appeared on her face, Ona was breathtaking. It was her eyes that Lucy noticed first, she had wide, soft doe eyes, innocent looking eyes. A beautiful chocolate brown surrounded her iris, making her face warm and inviting.

Dark freckles covered her face, another feature Lucy couldn’t help but admire. Her skin was slightly tanned but not bronze, more of a milk colour. Lucy imagined that was because of the English weather.

It was when Ona smiled that Lucy felt her stomach flutter. She thought her face was beautiful and soft before, but her smile made her perfect. She noticed how chiseled her jawline was when she smiled, how perfectly it fit with her features. The girl was utterly beautiful.

Lucy held out her hand for Ona’s to shake.

Ona had to kick her brain into gear to move, she took Lucy’s hand, instantly loving how soft her skin was against hers.

“It’s great to have you on the team Ona, and like Sarina said, I’m here for whatever you need.”

“Thank you, I can’t wait to work with you.”

They held hands for a second longer than the usual handshake would normally last.

The interaction wasn’t missed by the other women, Jordan and Demi eyed up the the older brunette, smiling between each other as Lucy and Ona kept eye contact for a second too long.

“Okay, well. I’ll let Lucy take care of you from here, if you need anything let the girls know, or if you need anything from me you know where I am.”

The older lady smiled warmly at Ona, leaving her with her new co-workers.

“Let me show you your desk, it’s next to mine.”

“Great.” Ona followed.

Lucy walked towards a row of desks with computers and files of paper work neatly piled on each space. But there was one desk with only a computer that Ona assumed was hers.

“This is you. I apologise in advance my desk can get a little messy now and again.”

“Ahh that doesn’t bother me.” Ona couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

“I’ll try keep and keep it tidy though.”

“She won’t Ona, she’s lying.” Jordan poked her head over Lucy’s computer. Hers and Demis desk both opposite their own.

“Shut it Nobbs,”

Jordan smiled cheekily at the older brunette.

“Trust me Ona, give it a week.” Jordan smiled.

Ona laughed at the banter between the girls, she wondered if her and Lucy would ever get as close.

“Ignore her. I’m going to quickly head for the showers. I know you’ve got all that paper work to go through, so you can just chill here. Kitchen is just over there, help yourself to a drink. Once I’m back I’ll go through some bits with you.” Lucy smiled at the younger girl.

“Sure, sounds good. Enjoy your shower.” Ona had to stop herself from thinking too hard about Lucy in the shower. She looked around the room, noticing other people at their desks working, she was going to have to try and remember a lot of names today.

She started to read through her paper work, it was mostly rules and work conducts she had to read and agree to.

Eight pages in to her paper work she felt Lucy hover over her.

“God I hate all of this, it’s so boring, but I get it, it has to be done.” Lucy rolled her eyes.

Ona smiled, she agreed but she wasn’t going to make it obvious. “Ahh yeah, I know. Nearly done though.”

Lucy nodded. “Do you fancy a tea or coffee? I’m going to make one.”

“Coffee please.” - “Tea for me.” Jordan and Demi loudly put their order in.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t asking you!”

“Don’t be like that, you’re going anyways.” Demi shouted back.

“Fine. Ona?” Lucy started to get up.

“Erm, tea please? With two sugars please.” Ona smiled.

Lucy had to hold herself back from saying the ‘you’re sweet enough’ line.

“No problem.” Lucy made her way to the kitchen.

Ona smiled as she read on with her paper work.

Ona drank her tea that Lucy made, listening to the brunette talk about what investigations the team was working on.

“But don’t stress too much, I’ll have you sitting in the catch up on Friday, so you can get an idea. I’ll send over some bits so you can read them in your own time. I know the first day can be a lot.”

If Ona was honest she was more than grateful for the slow introduction to the work. She was finding it hard to concentrate with Lucy. She’d never been one for distractions with work, but she was having to listen extra carefully to Lucy, instead of watching her lips, wondering what they would feel like against her own.

Ona nodded. “Yeah that’s great. I’ll go over that tonight, thank you Lucy.”

“Great. It’s nearly lunch, Sarina has insisted we go for lunch together to get to know each other. Partners and all that. But don’t feel like you hav-.”

“Yes!” Ona internally winced at her own eagerness

Lucy chuckled.

“I mean yeah, that’s sounds great. It’s a good idea.”

“Cool, do you like pizza?”

“I love pizza.”

“Oi, don’t try and par us off, we was CC’d on that email too.” Jordan’s head pocked over the computer.

Lucy rolled her eyes once again at her friend.

——————-

The conversation between the girls came naturally, they spoke about why they got into the police force, and some of their hardest cases.

Ona explained that she fell in love with London, and how she always wanted to be a police officer when she was young. She kept some bits brief, not wanting to get into certain bits of her life.

She noticed those greens eyes watching her throughout the meal, every time she caught her, the older brunette would dart her eyes to something or someone else, but she was caught every time.

*********

By the end of the day Ona was tired, she’d already not slept great the night before down to nerves. She had met everyone else in the office after lunch, so by five she was yawning.

Lucy was on her computer sending Ona some notes to read.

“Right, don’t stress about reading this tonight. It’s been a long day.”

“But don’t be tired on Friday, we’re going to The Rose and Crown. And it’s the rules, you have to come.” Jill had come up behind Ona.

“Well it doesn’t sound like I have a choice, you can buy my first drink.” Ona smiled, getting used to the girls banter.

All the girls laughed, Jill put her hand on Ona shoulder giving her a squeeze.

“I like this one.”

Lucy was watching Ona, a bright smile on her face, Ona felt her heart beat just a little faster.

——————-

By day two Ona was obsessed with Lucy’s laugh, the girl had a serious nature to her, but once Ona made her laugh she couldn’t stop. She wanted to hear that beautiful sound whenever she could. It was a good thing Lucy actually seemed to find her funny. Ona felt a rush of excitement go through her, even at a glimpse of Lucy’s beautiful smile, the girl did have a beautiful smile.

By day three Lucy had to physically stop herself from staring at Ona. The younger girl would be doing the simplest of tasks and Lucy seemed to find it fascinating. She watched the Spaniard making them tea in the kitchen, talking and laughing with others in the office. Lucy maybe even getting a little jealous when someone made the shorter girl laugh hard.

Ona may have noticed the eyes on her and was loving every second of it. Making sure to laugh a little harder at something someone would say.

By day end of day there neither girl could keep the other out of their head. Lucy thought about Ona as she made dinner at home, wondering if Ona would like her cooking. Meanwhile Ona got comfy on her sofa to watch a film, wondering what it would be like to have Lucy cozied up next to her.

By Friday morning, Ona thought about Lucy as she ate her porridge, wondering what her morning routine looked like. As Lucy finished her workout in the gym she wondered if Ona was a morning person. She wondered what it would be like to wake up next to a groggy Ona. The thought made her body heat up.

———————

“We have eyes on Harvey Smith aka ‘Bugz’ and Frank Smith aka ‘Slims’. We know the brothers are highly dangerous to the public. We believe Slims is the brains behind most of the drug operations and Bugz is mostly muscles for Slims. On Wednesday at seven hundred hours, our teams will raid the location that we suspect they will be. We’ll have Scott and her team ready with arms. Carter will have the K9s unit, Bright and Greenwood will have their teams ready on site.”

Lucy looked over at her team.

“Any questions?”

Everyone shook their heads, and Ona wasn’t surprised. Lucy was clear with her instructions, she’d gone through many different stages of the plan. Ona understood why she was in this role.

“If you have any please come to me.”

Lucy looked her watch. “It’s 4.45 and Friday let’s call it a day.”

The room hummed in agreement, light chatter broke out as people started to leave the room.

Ona went to her desk to grab her bag and jacket, she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders.

“Ready for the pub?”

Lucy’s voice filtered into her ears, Ona nearly shivered at how close the brunette was.

“Sii. I’m ready.”

“Great. Nobbs, Stokes, Scott, let’s go.”

—————-

Most of the staff from the office were at the pub, clearly a favourite of theirs. They made their way upstairs to a booth next to a fire place, Ona instantly felt the warmth from the fire kissing her cheeks.

“Right, I’ll get first round who wants what?” Lucy stayed standing.

The girls gave in their orders. Before Ona could offer to help with the drinks and also just have an excuse to be with Lucy, Jill got in there first.

“Right come on then, I’ll help ya.”

At the bar Lucy gave in the orders. She knew Jill wanted to say something as the Geordie had never offered to help anyone with the drinks since working with her.

“Go on then, what do you have to say?” Lucy looked hard at the taller women.

Jill smiled smugly. “Nothing gets past you.”

Lucy hummed.

“Just noticed you’ve been a lot more chirpier around the office. A lot more happy. Started since our new Detective Inspector started.”

Lucy felt the knot in her stomach, was she that obvious? Did Ona notice? Who else noticed? Either way Lucy wasn’t going to fess up.

“You chat shit Scott.”

Jill laughed loudly.

“You know I don’t. Come on it’s okay, no harm in it. Just happy to see you happy to be honest. It’s been a while since I’ve seen that smile on your face.”

Lucy knew what Jill really meant when she said that. She could tell the older women said it with her own hint of sadness to her voice. If she was being honest, it was the first time this year she had felt a little happier. And it was all because of the short Spanish girl sitting upstairs.

“So Ona are you seeing anyone at the moment?” Jordan asked.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone. I’m a single, how do you say? Dingle?”

The girls laughed. “Pringle, a single Pringle.” Demi corrected.

Ona laughed. “Ahh that’s it. Single Pringle. What about you guys?”

“Demi here’s engaged, with a baby.” Jordan smiled.

“Ahh that’s lovely.” Ona smiled.

“And Jordan has a little thing going on with a blonde in the HR team.”

“Oi, shut up.” Jordan looked panicked.

“Oh come on Jordan, everyone knows. You guys really aren’t subtle.” Demi laughed at her friend.

“Who’s not subtle?” Lucy placed the tray full of drinks on the table, sceptically looking at her friends.

“Just Jordan and Leah.”

Lucy let out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding.

“Oh yeah, you guys aren’t subtle.”

“You can talk.” Jordan muttered.

Ona didn’t miss the daggers Lucy shot at Jordan.

The evening was full of laughter, Ona couldn’t help but feel a little sense of relief that these were her colleagues. They instantly made her feel like she was part of the team, it felt like she had been there longer than four days, it felt like she’d known these girls in another lifetime.

The pub bell rang.

“Last orders!” A bar girl shouted.

“One more for the road?” Lucy looked around the table.

“Not me, I’m at a coffee tour tomorrow.” Jill sipped on her pint.

“Yeah me too. I’m a plus one for a 2 year olds birthday party tomorrow.” Demi slumped in her seat.

“Yeah I’ve got to head off. I’m meeting a friend tomorrow.” Jordan cleared her throat.

“Yeah ‘friend’.” Demi laughed.

“I’ll stay for another.” Ona looked at Lucy.

Lucy had to hold back the excitement that bubbled up in her chest. Herself and Ona hadn’t really gotten any one on one time since the girl joined the team.

“Finally! Someone who isn’t a lightweight. Same again?” Lucy looked at Ona.

“It’s my turn. I’ll get this.” Ona shot up, going down to the bar before Lucy could argue.

Once the Spaniard was gone all three of the girls looked at Lucy, smirks on their faces.

“What?” Lucy looked at her friends.

“Oh come off it Luce, you like the girl.” Jordan nudged Lucy’s arm.

“What? No I don’t.” The brunette tried to defend herself.

She looked at Jill, hoping for some back up.

“I’m staying out of it. I’ve already said enough.“ She shook her head putting her coat on.

“Come on Bronzey. You can tell just by the way you look at her.” Demi laughed.

The smirk that creeped on her lips gave her feelings away.

“Is it that obvious?”

All three girls smiled happily at the brunette.

“Awww our girls got a crush.” Jordan grabbed the back of Lucy’s neck, making the girl duck her head.

“Get off.” She laughed.

“She’s single.” Demi quirked.

“Yeah but I don’t even know if she’s into girls.”

All three of the girls laughed hard then.

“Come on Luce, I thought you was a detective. The girl looks at you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. I think this its a mutual feeling.” Jill lightly chuckled.

Lucy scoffed. “I doubt that.”

Before the girls could harass Lucy anymore Ona returned.

“Right I’m off. I hope you’ve enjoyed your first week Ona. The real work starts on Wednesday.” Jill winked.

“Sii, I’m looking forward to it. And thank you girls for making me feel so welcome. I appreciate it.” Ona smiled at the girls.

“It’s been a pleasure Ona.” Jordan smiled.

“Yeah, you fit in so well Ona, so glad we got you on our team.” Demi grabbed Ona’s shoulder.

“Look after her Bronze.” Jill pointed at the older brunette.

“Oh, she will.” Jordan winked at Lucy.

Ona didn’t miss the comment, or the way Lucy’s face went a shade of pink. Before Lucy could think of a come back the girls were gone.

Suddenly the room became quiet and the air between, Lucy and Ona felt thick. It was the first time Lucy had felt nervous, they had never been alone before, with no one sticking their nose into their conversations.

Ona was buzzing, don’t get her wrong, she loved getting to know her other colleges, loved being a part of the team but she had wanted some alone time with Lucy since she met her.

The fire made a loud cracking noise, the pub still had a few people nursing their drinks.

Lucy had forgotten all words, she hadn’t been able to think about nothing else since this girl came into her life only four days ago, and now her mind had gone blank.

After ten seconds of silence that actually felt like hours, finally Lucy’s brain woke up.

“So speaking about first weeks, how has yours been?”

Ona took a sip of her new drink, smiling.

“It’s been amazing. Everyone has been so friendly, so welcoming. It’s been great.”

Lucy nodded, smiling. She was happy to hear Ona was feeling welcome, she understood it was hard to start a new job anywhere.

“You especially have made me feel so welcome, I’m really happy that you’re my partner Lucy.”

Ona’s smile was shy, she looked at Lucy with those big beautiful brown eyes.

Lucy’s face had definitely changed in colour, she couldn’t hold back the dorky smile that plastered her face.

“I’m glad I have.”

Lucy smiled with her brilliant teeth.

“And yeah, you’re not too bad yourself. Definitely need to get you better at making tea, then you’ll be perfect.” She smiled cheekly at Ona.

Ona laughed hard. “Aye it’s not that bad!”

Lucy drank her drink, looking around making a point to not look at Ona.

“You’ll have to teach me.” Ona didn’t mean to sound sexy, but Lucy couldn’t help but think her voice got an octave lower.

Lucy pointed between herself and Ona. “If this is gong to work, then yeah, I’ll teach you.”

“Fine.” Ona smiled.

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Perfect.”

“No puedo esperar.” (I can’t wait)

Ona definitely lowered her voice that time. Lucy felt the heat rise up in her cheeks. Lucy laughed trying to gain her nerve back. She tried to change the subject before her face went any redder.

“Are you going back to Spain for Christmas?”

Ona’s smile dropped, she hadn’t told anyone the real reason for leaving Spain. It wasn’t because she was ashamed, it was just still a hard thing for her to digest. But if she could tell anyone Lucy would be the best person.

“No, I, ……. my parents don’t talk to me because I am gay.”

Lucy’s own smile dropped. She could see the sadness in Ona’s eyes, it broke her heart.

“Oh, Ona. I’m so sorry. When did they do that?”

“It happened when I was 19. They found out and kicked me out of my home. They blocked me and never spoke to me again. So I moved here. I wanted to move here at some point anyways, but it was sooner than I’d have liked.”

Lucy could feel her own tears well in her eyes.

“Have you spoken to them since?”

Ona looked down at her drink.

“After a year of living here I went back to Spain, to see if they would speak to me. But when I got to my home my mum closed the door on my face. I tried to reach out in many ways but they won’t talk to me.”

Lucy couldn’t believe how anyone could purposefully hurt the girl in front of her, let alone her own parents. It made her angry but Ona didn’t need that kind of response. She reached out her hand, gently grabbing Ona’s.

“I know we haven’t known each other that long but I am here if you ever wanna talk. Or if you ever just want an ear, I’m all yours.”

Ona smiled at Lucy, she heard everything she had said but mostly ‘I’m yours’ stood out most to her. “Thank you Lucy. I appreciate it.”

Lucy squeezed Ona’s hand, not ever wanting to let go, her hand felt so small and delicate in her own.

“Hi guys we’re closing up now.” The girl from behind the bar shouted loudly.

The last thing she wanted to do was leave Ona now. She wanted to do nothing else then scoop the girl up and hug her until she could smile again, even then Lucy wouldn’t want to let go.

“I guess we better leave.” Ona smiled sadly.

“You hungry?”

Ona nodded. “Starving.”

“Do you like chips?”

Ona nodded again, gaining back a smile.

“Right, come on then. I know the best place.”

——————-

“Okay don’t tell no one but I prefer curry sauce with my chips, and as a northerner that’s a bit of a crime. The northerners prefer gravy, I like both but the curry sauce just tastes so good.”

“I don’t think I’ve had it with chips before.”

“What? Okay, I’m about to blow your mind Battle.”

Ona laughed hard, she loved this excited version of Lucy, it probably was the fact that they were both tipsy and not in the office but it was nice to see the girl relaxed.

They left the chippy with their precious chips in hand.

“There’s a bench nearby if you want to eat there?”

“Yes, let’s do that. I want to give my full attention to your curry sauce.” Ona giggled.

“Thats what I like to hear. It’s just five minutes from here. It’s worth the walk.”

Ona followed Lucy down the coberrly streets of London. She watched as some business men stumbled into a black cab as they passed a posh looking restaurant.

They came to a busy road, with a few more pubs and bars lining the street. She felt Lucy link her arm into hers as she guided them easily through the crowds. Her heart skipped three beats from the simple gesture, just like it did in the pub when Lucy took her hand.

“Just down here.”

They got to a dark stair case leading down, Ona followed the older women, she would follow her anywhere at this point, no questions asked.

And as they got down the steps she saw why Lucy brought her here.

It was the perfect skylight of London. Ona had lived in London for nearly 5 years. She had seen the skylight in many different ways. Different times of the day, different seasons, different angles but this was the prettiest she’d ever seen it.

“Wow! It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah.” Lucy was looking at Ona. Agreeing with both views.

“I come here sometimes when I need to think. Or just needing some time alone. Come sit.”

They sat on the bench facing the Thames, the lights of London lighting up the sky.

“Right, get your chip and dip.”

Lucy held out the curry sauce.

Ona dipped a thick chip in the sauce, she already liked the smell of it, so she hoped she’d like it. And she did, she loved it.

“Oh wow, that’s so good.” She dipped another chip.

“Yes! I knew you’d like it. Get in.”

Lucy dipped her own chip then, a satisfactory smile on her face.

Ona watched the girl, smiling at her. There was something about Lucy, something that seemed like a comfort that she had known before, a comfort she hadn’t felt in years.

The girls spoke about random things, laughing at the one another as they ate their chips.

Once they had finished their food a comfortable silence settled between them.

Until Ona yawned.

“Yeah, it’s late. Where are you from here? We can maybe share an Uber” Lucy picked up her phone.

“I’m in Battersea.”

Lucy’s eyes brightened. “I’m in Wandsworth. Nearly neighbours.”

Ona loved the thought of them being so close. She couldn’t help but wonder if Lucy would ever meet up with her on a weekend.

Ona gave Lucy her address for the Uber.

“Cool, they’ll be here in two minutes.”

They walked to the pick up destination, both suddenly quiet. It felt like neither girl wanted the night to end.

The Uber picked them up, both girls jumping in the back. It was at least a 20 minute drive to get home, so Ona grabbed the aux cord.

She put on Rosalía - BESO. Lucy turned to her smiling. The older brunette began to sing perfect Spanish like it was nothing. Ona’s mouth fell open in complete surprise.

“What? You can speak Spanish?”

Lucy laughed at the girls shock. “Yeah a little bit.”

She didn’t know why but it turned Ona on to know Lucy could speak Spanish, not just Spanish but Catalonian, it was hot.

The girls sang mostly to Rosalia all the way. Lucy was first the be dropped off. She turned to Ona.

“Night Ona. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

“Lucy wait, I should have your number.”

“Oh yeah, you should. Pass it here.”

Ona handed her phone and Lucy put her number in it, she called her phone to save Ona’s.

“Text me when you’re in please.”

“I will.” Ona smiled at the older women.

Lucy slid out the car and walked towards her home. Ona and the Uber driver watched as she walked into her house.

As soon as Ona got in she texted Lucy to tell her she was home.

Ona - Hola! I’m home. I owe you for the ride x

Lucy replied instantly .

Lucy - don’t worry about it x

Lucy - actually you can pay me back by making better teas 🤔 x

Ona - Fine! I’ll do better! I’ll make your tea better then you do for yourself 💪 x

Lucy laughed to herself.

Lucy - hmmm bit confident, we’ll see x

Ona - got to be confident in yourself 💅🏼 thank you for a good night Lucy, I really enjoyed myself xx

Lucy - you’re right! And you’re welcome, I really enjoyed myself too. And always here if you need a chat xx

Ona - thank you Lucy ❤️ good night xx

Lucy - good night xx

#woso soccer #women’s football #woso #woso community #lucy bronze #woso fanfics #ona batlle #alternate universe #woso couples #woso imagine

45 notes · View notes

darklyndivinely · 2 years

Text

I'm okay, really!

Fandom(s) - Obey Me!

Pairing(s) - Mammon x gn!Diavolo's sibling!reader

Summary - When Mammon misses your date, you go to HOL to find him.

Warnings - Fluff, romance, a bit of angst. Reader calls Mammon 'baby.' I thirst for him a bit in this.

Wordcount - 1k+

A/N - This one's rather simple to be honest and is mostly fuelled by my anger about everyone's attitude towards Mammon's punishments. In other words, this is a 'protect Mammon at all costs' fic. Also, reader is related to Diavolo, though it's never exclusively mentioned, it's just implied. If you've got any ideas on what I should write next send in an ask. Also guys, Reblog! please! Tell me what you think.

Leave a tip! • OM!Masterlist • Taglist Form

“Hey, Asmo!” you say when the door to the House of Lamentation spills open.

Asmo greets you back, stepping onto the porch to press a kiss to your cheek. You giggle, eyes drawing to his freshly painted nails.

“Looking good,” you comment, stepping into the brightly lit entrance hall.

“Always.” Asmo flicks his hair, shutting the doors with a wave of his hand. You smile, heading deeper into the common room where most of the brothers are lounging.

Beel is the first one to notice you and waves a hand full of cupcakes at you. You wave back at him, chuckling.

“Have you guys seen Mammon?” you ask, settling on one of the sofa’s arms. “He and I were supposed to go on a date tonight but he never showed up.”

“Mammon’s not at home,” Asmo replies quickly from behind you. “Do you wanna click a picture? It’s been so long, all of my fans would go crazy seeing us together in a single frame.”

Before you can answer, Asmo has already made his way to your side. Having no choice left in the matter, you stand and let Asmo loop his arm through yours and smile into the camera. You shake your head when he tries to convince you to strike a different pose.

“If Mammon isn’t here, then where is he? I thought he got caught up in some work, and that’s why he got late.”

“When he comes back, we’ll tell him you dropped by,” Satan says from his place by the fireplace, eyes unwavering from the novel clasped in his hand.

You sigh; you had been really looking forward to the date. And you thought Mammon had been excited for it too, especially based on his reaction when you had told him that you had booked the whole restaurant for the outing.

“Are you sure none of you know where he is?” you try for the last time, watching Asmo fiddle with his phone while returning to his seat beside Satan.

Your question is answered by a familiar voice as Lucifer strides into the common room, waistcoat flying behind him.

“Mammon is busy tonight. I sent him to do an errand for me. I’m sorry he missed your date.”

“What errand? He didn’t tell me of any work you had assigned him.”

“It was rather sudden,” Lucifer answers.

You hum, scanning his figure, eyes latching onto the stack of files in his hands.

“How’d your meeting with Dia go?”

“It went well. The rule has been finalized. We shall be announcing it with a school assembly coming Monday.”

You nod, looking around at everyone. “I suppose there’s no use waiting for him then. Guess I’ll just drop off the gift in his room.”

You turn, starting to walk towards the staircase that leads to the first floor. Heavy steps echo yours quickly, Lucifer stepping forward and blocking your way.

“You can give it to me, I shall hand it to him when he is back. It’s getting quite late after all.”

You shake your head, side-stepping him easily. “I don’t think so.”

“I said I’ll give it to him.” He grabs onto you, firm fingers halting your movement.

You stare at his hand wrapped around your forearm, and then up into his eyes.

Lucifer returns your gaze with equal intensity as if challenging you to go against what he had said.

“Did something happen?” you mock, disappointment seeping into your voice.

“He stole one of the antique items of the house, and was going to sell it.”

“And you strung him up for that.”

Lucifer doesn’t reply, nose flaring.

You shake your head, jerking your arm free, and move for the stairs again, steps loud with anger.

Mammon is hanging upside down in the hallway, with ropes twisting around his legs and torso in a deadly spiral. His eyes are closed, chest lifting lightly with shallow breaths.

You halt before him, feeling sadness envelop your heart at the sight of him. How many times had you found him like this now? Hung from the ceiling of his own home like a slaughtered chicken, fighting bare-handedly with the suffocating discomfort and yet trying his best to appear indifferent to the agony? It was difficult to recall.

“Mammon,” you whisper, “hey.”

His marine eyes flicker open tiredly, surprise seeping into them when he catches sight of you.

“Hi,” he answers, voice hoarse with exhaustion.

“I’m gonna get you down, ok?”

Mammon nods, eyes never straying from you.

You inch closer to him and reach out to his bindings. Warm energy transfers into them, making them unfurl delicately, not dissimilar to the blossoming of a flower.

You do not rush the process, watching the ropes slacken and twist to your command leisurely, though all you want is to feel his arms around you right this instant.

Mammon wobbles when the ropes set him on his legs. You stabilize him swiftly, gently maneuvering his body to support his weight better.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, breath coming a bit easier to his lungs.

“I’m sorry I missed our date,” he mumbles.

A mirthless laugh pushes at your chest. “It’s alright, baby, we can always reschedule it.”

He hums, pulling away from you. He looks so much better. The color of his face has returned to normal, eyes no longer bloodshot. “Can we still go?”

“I’m not so sure, Mammon. Are you feeling okay?”

He pauses, eyes flitting upwards and fixing behind you. “Yes. Would you like to?”

You smile at him, sliding your hand against his jaw and gently coaxing his lips against yours. “Sure. Let’s go.”

You loop your arm through his and lead him downstairs, ignoring Lucifer’s piercing glare. You’ll deal with him later.

You take a stop by the kitchen on your way out and grab two cans of chilled soda from the fridge and hand one to Mammon. He knocks it back quickly, so you hand him the remaining half of yours too.

Ignoring the eyes of the rest of the brothers watching the scene unfold, you move swiftly past each of them.

“Would you like to drive, baby?” you ask as the two of you reach your car. You knew Mammon loved it whenever you let him behind the wheel.

He ponders for a second, running his fingers along the body. “Not today.”

You nod, though you doubt he catches it, still lost in admiring the shiny coat on the bumper.

“Get in, then.”

You start the engine, the rumble of it familiar and comforting to your bones.

Mammon is silent throughout the whole ride; you don’t prompt him even when you feel his eyes on you for extended periods. He only speaks up when you take the turn opposite the restaurant you had booked earlier that evening.

“We were supposed to go left, ya know?”

He didn’t seem too annoyed, so you decide to keep your little plan a secret for a bit longer.

“I know.”

He smiles, throwing his head back, the wind sliding against his warm skin pleasantly. You gaze at him, mesmerized by the sharp contrast of his ivory hair against the dark Devildom sky.

“What? Why ya smilin’ like that?” Mammon questions, his own lips lifted in a grin.

“I love you,” you say and take in the subsequent reddening of his cheeks. It’s hard to believe someone could be such a balanced mixture of adorable and sexy.

He tries to hide the widening of his grin behind his hand but you don’t mind. You’re more than used to his tsundere tendencies by now.

“I love you too.”

Contrary to him, you don’t try to smother your happiness and flash him a toothy smile.

You reach your destination within a couple of minutes and shut the door behind you.

“What are we doing at Majolish?” Mammon questions while looking up at the bright pink store.

“Shopping, obviously.”

You walk in, inhaling the cold air, and feel Mammon’s arm brush against yours as he comes to stand beside you.

“Whatever you want, it’s on me.” Fishing out your debit card, you hold it up to his eye. “So how about that leather jacket you wanted, hmm?”

Mammon’s grin is slow to form and sharp to emerge. At least he is happy, you think. So while he takes off with your card and dives right into the leather section of Majolish, you pull out your phone and dial in.

“Barbatos, hey! Were you busy? I was wondering if you’d help me with something.”

#mammon x reader #mammon x you #obey me x reader #darkly and divinely written #mammon x reader fluff #mammon x you fluff #mammon fluff #shall we date mammon #mammon #obey me mammon #om! mammon

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 year

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The Dream - Chapter Nine.

Apologies the update is late, guys. I had one of my dearest friends home from America come and visit today, and I haven’t seen her for about ten years so it was good to sit and have a lovely long catch up with her! Thanks to those of you who are showing continued interest, even though I feel it has waned a little. In light of such, I’m going to lower the note count to 30 per chapter. Kinda don’t really know what else to do.

I just hope people still love it and aren’t getting fed up. Maybe it’s too slow burn, I dunno, but at least this chapter brings them together in reality, so there’s that. I’ll just muddle along being an insecure mess, haha!

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)

Words - 2,611

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“So, why Utah, mano?” Bishop asked, getting a few more details from Angel over his impending mini-break for three and a half days a few hundred miles north.

“Thought I’d embarrass myself on a snowboard again. I ain’t all that on actual snow, even though I do well on a dry slope.”

“Ahh,” Bishop sounded, seeming surprised. “You still at that, even after breaking up with Lucy? I kinda thought it was only for her benefit, you actually moving other than to lift heavy things.” True, Angel had only taken up the sport because of his ex and her passion for it, however, he’d stuck at it upon realising he was actually reasonably decent.

“Ahem, aren’t you forgetting something?” He immediately side eyed the person who he knew would betray his reply, one Sharise Reyes who had piped up, and who did not disappoint. “That isn’t the only reason! He’s going to meet a fine little honey up there, aren’t you, Cassanova?”

Coco couldn’t help himself. “Pfft, Cassanova. Our boy is more...” he paused, snapping his fingers. “What was that beat up, shitty little British import car was got in the other day?”

Bishop began to hiss with laughter immediately. “A Vauxhall Nova!”

“Yeah,” Coco grinned. “He that.”

“Fuck all of y’all,” Angel spat, sinking a shot of tequila as his friends roared laughing. “And you, with your big yap!” he then added to Sharise, who just grinned with mirth.

“So, who’s the chula, homes?” Coco asked, ready to fire out a little more razzing.

“Just a girl I got talking to on Insta initially, so yeah, gonna go up and meet her.” Only his brother and Sharise knew the truth, and as far as he was concerned, that was the way it would stay.

Coco’s eyebrows rose. “Yeah? Lemme get a peep at her.”

Angel took out his phone, finding a picture she’d sent him the other day of her new hair, having it chopped just above her shoulders and highlighted with blonde tones. Turning the screen to him, he smirked at witnessing Coco’s eyes practically fall out of his skull.

“Damn, she fine as hell. What the fuck does she see in your crusty ass?” He received a raised middle finger for that comment, laughing hard as he handed Angel his phone back. Not even the razzing he received from everyone assembled at the table could dent him, though. He couldn’t wait to meet Keri in the flesh.

As for the girl herself, she was utterly fizzing with excited nerves, looking forward to spending just over three days with him, which would have been just two, had she not had a study day on Friday, and only one lecture to get to on Monday afternoon. Her idea of a study day would be to take him snowboarding with Frankie and Rachel, Keri loving that it was something they had in common.

Every so often, though, a little flare of anxiety would streak through her, wondering if he, at thirty-six, would be content with hanging out with a bunch of twenty-two-year-olds, in the times where it wasn’t just them. Also, what if he didn’t like her in the flesh? What if the ease they felt towards one another only existed in their dreams?

“Hey, can I get an answer here?”

David’s words roused her from her thoughts, looking over to see him holding up two boxes of cereal.

“Those, please,” she replied, pointing at the Cinnamon Toast Crunch. He placed them in the cart, locating Meryl’s chocolate and coconut granola and tossing the bag in, turning back to Keri. He’d finished early from work, collecting his stepdaughter at college and heading to the store so Meryl didn’t have to once she was done with her long day.

“You seem a little distant this evening.”

“Sorry,” she smiled, turning the corner of the aisle, picking up their regular brand of olive oil. “I’m just anxious about Angel coming up.”

He made a silent ‘ah’ face, nodding in understanding. “You know, little, I’m glad you at least confided in me about him visiting, so I know where you’ll have disappeared to all weekend. Good plan too, having him stay at Frankie and Jaime’s with you. I know you have your unique time with him, but still, you don’t know him. Much safer, having your buddies close by. Frankie sure is efficient with that baseball bat, from all the home runs I remember her scoring on the high school team.”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t turn out to be someone who needs to be Lucille’d, minus the barbed wire, huh?” she laughed, referencing one of the favourite TV shows, The Walking Dead.

“No!” he exclaimed, picking up crackers. “Cheese or seeded?”

“Both, toss ‘em in!” She spied the brand of dried strawberry cookies she loved, placing those in as well, looking back up at David. “You’re not gonna tell her, are you?”

“Psht! Of course, I’m not! I’ll let you get your first meet with him over, decide if you feel like you’re gonna see him again, and then you can tell her. Yeah, she’ll likely be pissed that I didn’t share it with her, but we know how she is. She worries; she’s your mom, she loves you to death. Just make sure you check in with me a couple of times, though, so I know you’re alright.”

“Of course, I will.” She promised, continuing down the aisle. Looking at her watch, she despaired of herself, counting the hours. Fifty and a half to go, and he’d be landing in Provo at 6:30pm on Thursday. Seven hundred and eighty miles south, and someone else was feeling a few trepidations about that time, too.

“You're nervous, aren't you? C'mon you can tell me, I won't say anything to EZ,” said Sharise, she and Angel sitting outside of the clubhouse together, enjoying the last of the warmth before the temperature dipped.

“I don’t know if nervous is the right word. Like, I’m not nervous about meeting her because she’s a girl I’m into, and I wanna see if there could be something there, but I am about what it’s all stemmed from. I dunno if that makes any sense to anyone else, but it does to me.”

His revelation landed well with her, Sharise taking the blunt she had rested behind her ear and lighting it up. “I hear you, Angel. It’ll further cement her existence in reality, or more pertinently, your reality. I can imagine it’s s prospect that’s making your head spin, despite the fact you’re chatting to her regularly. Meeting her makes it a hundred percent real, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly it, Bob.” He hesitated for a minute, Sharise side eyeing him as she passed the blunt.

“What else, Angel?”

He took a long drag, holding the smoke tightly in his chest, steadily exhaling it again in a thick plume down his nose. “I kinda don’t know how to play it. We say we’re just friends and shit, but it’s obvious that there’s a little more there. Attraction at the very least. She’s shy, though, and I don’t know how to be around shy women. I ain’t being arrogant, but I’m not used to that.”

“That’s not arrogant, I mean you’re right, they do usually throw themselves at you and you have to do very little to instigate that. Just let Keri take the lead, hold back, add about a half pound of subtlety to your flirting. Be charming without being like a sexual A bomb going off.” Her hand gripped his shoulder, stroking his arm. “I have faith in you. See where it all goes, and if she seems comfortable, then there you go. I know you’re not always the best at picking up on subtleties...”

He was immediately affronted, interrupting to voice such. “Hey, I can read cues!”

She scoffed softly, taking the blunt back from him. “A skill that’s entirely dependent on your alcohol intake, so just keep that to a minimum and you’ll be fine. Like I said, I have faith in you.”

“I’m glad someone does.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, resting his head to hers. If he had a best friend in the world, they came as a pair. His brother and Sharise. That night, he arrived home at 1am, crawling into bed and falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, finding himself in a dream.

He walked a sunny beach, the wet sand warm and squidgy beneath his bare feet, seeing a figure standing further along the shoreline.

“Nice ocean, huh?” Keri turned to him, smiling, reaching to give him a hug.

“Yeah, it is.” She looked out over the crystal blue sea, her eyes finding the waves, the sunlight making the green hues in her hazel eyes sparkle like pale emeralds. “So, we meet up for real tomorrow. Not gonna lie, I’m kinda shitting myself.”

He laughed softly, a little grunt through his nose. “Why? It’s only me, and you do sort of know me a little bit already.”

She shrugged within his embrace. “I guess that’s true, but still.”

“You’ll be fine, we both will. It’ll be weird though, won’t it? Weird but good.”

She was about to reply, but the dream changed suddenly, a large wave appearing out of nowhere and breaking onto the beach, pulling her beneath the water. Angel looked all around for her, running to the ocean and diving in, searching beneath the water for her to no avail. He then felt a pull within his abdomen, opening his eyes to see himself back in the white bedroom.

Turning to his side, he saw her there, curled up asleep. He reached over, stroking her head with the back of his knuckle, Keri not stirring. He felt calm settle over him, slipping from the dream into undisturbed sleep.

By the time the day of his departure came, he was a picture of chilled, merely experiencing little ripples of excitement rushing through him every time he thought about it throughout the morning. Keri, however...

“Beets! You're gonna have the college billing you for the groove you’re wearing in the carpet. Come sit, fuck! You’re exhausting me just witnessing the pacing!”

Up and down the study suite Keri paced, nerves twisting through her, little pulses of energy she had no idea how to get rid of or redirect making her feel nauseous. “I’m nervous, alright?”

Frankie tilted her head back, amusement playing her features. “Oh, really? I could never tell.”

“This is not the time for sarcasm,” she pouted, her wrist being caught as she was promptly steered into a seat.

“No, but it is the time for calming you down a little,” she spoke, grasping her hands, her thumbs stroking her knuckles. “So, what’s the plan? You gonna meet us at The Lounge later, or just head back to ours and bang the pull out into a brand-new shape?”

“Frances!”

She snort laughed immediately. “Oh god, you called me by my actual name. Must be bad!”

“What if he doesn’t like me?”

Frankie was even further entertained by that. “Sure, he’s flying over seven hundred miles to meet a girl he doesn’t like.”

“You know what I mean!” Keri pulled herself back then, taking a breath. “Sorry, that was a little sharp.”

She received a shrug, Frankie knowing well how wound up she could get. “S’okay.”

“You know what I mean though, right? What if he thinks I’m a total calamity?”

“You are a total calamity, beets. This is why we love you, though. I’m sure Angel will find that endearing. Just try not to spill anything on him.”

Her eyes widened instantly. “Oh god, don’t jinx me!”

Frankie clapped as she threw her head back, laughing hard. “You’re adorable, I swear. For real, though, try to calm down a little, save you making yourself all jittery. I would say let’s go for a few drinks, but you’re driving. I dunno, maybe do some deep breathing exercises?”

“I think taking my mind off it might work, either that or I need to go and jog around the campus, rid myself of this nervous energy.”

“Nope, you’ll get all sweaty.” Ahhh, she made a good point. “Okay, I’m choosing Instagram funnies.” Frankie was glad to get a few laughs out of her, but she saw it clearly, the fact that beneath the cheerful veneer, she was still panicking. That mood lasted long into the early evening, too.

“What if he only wants to meet up so he can bang me?” she put to her friends, sitting with them in The Lounge, waiting for the time she had to leave. Twenty-two minutes and sixteen seconds. Yes, she was down to counting the seconds tick by.

“Then is he really any great loss?” Jaime put to her.

“Alright, I guess that’s sensible.” Silence passed, Frankie and Jaime waiting on it, for they knew there’d be further musings added. “What if he takes one look at me, turns and walks away?”

Frankie snorted. “Now you’re just being ridiculous! You have that man all over your Insta, telling you how pretty you are, and all over you in your dreams, for crying out loud! Look, I know it’s early, but why don’t you leave now, get there nice and early, have a coffee, try not to spill it on yourself, and just woosah for a little while?”

Woosah? She’d require about ten shots of tequila all sunk one after the other to achieve such a state of relaxed ambience, but agreed that Frankie’s idea was a good one, giving them both a hug before departing. Keri was glad to have taken that advice, the traffic absolutely hellish, since a burst pipe had meant the usual route she’d have taken to the airport now incurred a detour, one which crawled slowly, such was the volume of rerouted traffic.

“Calm and easy, calm and easy.” she repeated to herself, trying not to think he’d be wondering if she’d stood him up, since the traffic meant she’d be arriving ten minutes after he’d landed. After parking, she hurried through the airport over to the correct terminal, finding it and seeing the gate had been shut, meaning all passengers had alighted. He was there, somewhere.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Right behind her. That was where he was.

“Don't sneak up on me like that!” she cried, turning and then feeling her heart practically catapult out of her chest, witnessing him in the flesh for the first time. God, he was even more attractive in person. It made her feel weak inside, like it was finally confirmed to her. He was real, right there in front of her.

“You walked past me, I was coming back from fetching my bag. Anyway, there's something more important here. I haven't been hugged yet.” Placing his bag down on the floor, he smiled down at her, opening his arms. It felt beyond strange to have her sink into them in reality, the whole situation hitting him in the chest, but god, it was wonderful.

She fitted perfectly against him, just tall enough in her boots for him to be able to rest his chin atop her head as he held her, thinking to himself how tiny and cute she was, even more so than her pictures had shown.

As they stood there, content in each other's embrace, they didn’t speak, both a little spooked out at the craziness of it. After everything, there they were, the utterly inconceivable had drawn them together in reality, and for that moment, time stood perfectly still. They were more than happy to let it, too.

#angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes smut #angel reyes x ofc #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes fic #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc smut #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

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i-am-baechu · 3 months

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♬ Summary: After Jin confesses to Eunbi, they have a walk near the Han river discussing their future together.

♬ Pairing: Establish(ish) relationship; Jin x OC

♬ Rating: Fluff (Pg - 13 )

♬Genre: Established relationship, comedy, angst?, and fluff

♬ Warnings: Fluff

♬ Part of, ‘ His Fan Girl

♬ Author’s Note: Short drabble! Would’ve uploaded this earlier but was with family!

⇜ Masterlist ⇝

The night sky felt nice today. It wasn’t cold but it wasn’t hot, it was perfect. It was perfect, just like Eunbi. Jin and Eunbi held hands as they walked along the sidewalk as the stars watched with flustered faces. Eunbi glanced up at Jin and she couldn’t believe what just happened to her. Not only did an idol confess to her but for the first time she didn’t feel like she was being played. It’s been awhile since a guy confessed to her and it wasn’t because of a sick joke (to be exact it's been five years but who's counting).

She quickly looked away when he turned towards her with his eyebrow raised, “Is everything alright?”

Her face instantly turned red as she looked up at the streetlights, “Ever-Everything is fine. Wh-Why wouldn’t it be?”

He let out a small laugh and glanced forward, “Maybe because you can’t look me in the eye?”

“Don’t get cocky...I’m still upset with you. I want those photocards on my desk by Monday.”

He turned towards her with a shocked look and his mouth dropped, “That gives me two days!?”

She looked at him and shrugged her shoulders, “Like I said don’t get cocky.”

“Is this how you treat your boyfriend?” She stopped in her tracks and she stared at his back with wide eyes. He froze at her expression and cursed at himself, “I’m sorry...”

“Boyfriend? Yo-You never asked me!?”

“Well, do you-”

“NO! We’re going to do this right. Let’s restart and go on dates before we make anything official.”

He smiled at her and nodded his head, “I’ll court you.”

“That makes it sound like I’m a duchess...I like it.” Eunbi glanced at the river and smiled to herself, unknowing to her that Jin was watching her. He leaned forward and quickly pulled down his mask to place a kiss on nose. Her eyes widened and her face felt hot, “TH-THIS ISN’T HOW YOU TREAT A DUCHESS!?”

“Well, are you going to punish me?”

“What the hell!? You're going to kill me!”

The walk continued and Jin enjoyed teasing Eunbi until they found a spot to sit. Jin took off his jacket and set it down on the grass for her. They sat on the grass in silence but it was comforting rather than awkward. Jin sighed and looked down at the grass, “The last time I was here, I saw my ex cheating on me.”

“Someone cheated on you? But you're...you're hot.”

Jin let out a laugh and looked at Eunbi with a slight frown, “I had a rose in my hand and I saw her kissing another guy. What sucked was I knew the guy.”

She nodded her head and looked at the river, “I was cheated on to...I got him fired at his workplace after I sent the CEO a picture of my ex with his daughter. It felt good to see him suffer but in the long run my heart still...You won’t cheat on me...right?”

Jin shook his head and leaned forward placing a kiss on her forehead, “I would never hurt you like that. I will show you what a man is by treating you right.”

“Like a duchess?”

Jin let out a small laugh and nodded his head, “Like a duchess.”

“And you’ll be my Jinnie...My Jinnie~.”

¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·

Tag List:

@agustdpeach @mdavt @aloverga @drissteele @xngelsau

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts yoongi #bts x reader #Bts #bts hosoek #Jin x oc #his fan girl

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takemebackto-eden · 7 months

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EM ‘Hey Stranger’ • Chapter Sixteen - California Dreaming

Chapter summary: Nina struggles being home.

content warnings: sad themes, mutual pining, alludes to parental / family abuse, parental alcoholism.

‘All the leaves are brown,

And the sky is grey.

I’ve been for a walk, on a winter’s day.

I’d be safe and warm if I was in L.A.

California dreamin’, on such a winter’s day.’

California Dreamin’ - The Mamas & The Papas

Monday / the Airport / 10:40AM

Sheryl: “And you’ve got your passport?”

Nina: [patting herself down, joking] “Shit, I knew I forgot something.”

Sheryl: (deadpanned) “Very funny.” (worried) “And you’ll call one of us when you land?”

Nina: “I will, I promise.”

Sheryl: “And call us if anything goes wrong? Or you need any help?”

Robin: “I think she gets the picture Mom.”

Nina: [hugging Sheryl goodbye] “Thank you for everything Sheryl. I’ll be in touch soon.” [walking over to Robin, pulling her into a hug, tearing up] “This is stupid, I’ll be back in a few weeks, I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Robin: [crying but ignoring her tears, sad laughter] “I’ll make sure Eddie doesn’t accidentally kill the cats.”

Nina: [wiping her tears, smiling] “No feeding them lasagne, I don’t want to come home to an overweight cat.”

Robin: [laughing] “I can’t promise anything, El keeps trying to feed Ozzy eggos.” [Nina laughs] “Please keep in touch. Especially with… you know. Just keep in touch.”

Nina: [thoughtful, nodding understanding] “I know. I’ll keep in touch.” [pecking Robin’s cheek] “Bye bestie.”

Robin: [wiping her cheek in disgust] “Ew, gross. I thought we didn’t do the whole ‘showing emotion’ thing!” [Nina rolls her eyes and walks through the terminal gate] “Bye! Call me when you land!” [Once Nina has gone, quietly to herself] “Good luck Nina.”

Eddie’s trailer / 10:40am

Eddie: [looking at the clock] “There she goes guys, Nina is boarding her plane right now.” [sighing, glum, talking to the kittens] “At least I’ve got you two for company.” [dragging a toy across the floor, Ozzy is chasing it, Eddie is patting Garfield who is sitting in his lap] “Should I be offended Nina didn’t ask me to drive her to the airport? Nah, she wouldn’t want to be a bother, even though I took the day off to take her.” (Worried) “Should I have offered to take her? What do you guys think?” (Sarcastically) “Great, now I’m asking relationship advice from kittens, who have I become?” (Laughing at himself) “If anyone could see me right now they’d think I’d gone fucking nuts. This is the least cool I’ve ever been.” [picking up Garfield who tries to paw at his face] “You are pretty cute though.” [cuddling Garfield into his neck] “Since it’s just us fellas I can be honest, I think if Nina had asked me to drive her to the airport I would have cried like a wimp saying goodbye. Probably for the best.” [looking at the clock again] “I miss her already.” [picking up Ozzy, both kittens in his arms] “What do you think Ozzy, do you miss your momma? I think you do.” [thoughtful] “I hope she’ll be okay. She’s got to be, right?”

7pm California time / 10pm Hawkins time

Nina: [phone between her ear and shoulder, chewing her thumb nervously] “Come on Eddie, pick up.” [the phone continues to ring out] “Damn it.” [the voicemail button beeps] “Hey Eddie, it’s me. Just letting you know I got home safe, though some little shit in front of me kept throwing nuts at me the entire flight, I keep finding peanuts in my hair.” [laughing] “I’m guessing it’s late back in Hawkins so I’m sorry if this wakes you up. So yeah…” [she twirls the phone cord around her finger, hoping Eddie will hear her voice through the answering machine and pick up, he doesn’t] “Things are fine with my Mom. She’s in bed resting at the moment, but we’re okay. Business as usual, I think.” [homesick already] “I hope you and the boys are doing well. Robin said to say she’ll pick them up on Wednesday morning for their vet appointment.” [trying to hide her disappointment] “So hopefully I’ll speak to you sometime in the week. I- erm, yeah, bye.” [about to put the phone down, moment of realisation] “Wait, I almost forgot, check your backpack! Okay, Goodnight.” [Nina hangs up the phone sighing, and begins to walk up the stairs of her house when the phone rings] “Hello?”

Eddie: [rushing] “I wasn’t ignoring you, I promise! I had a cat related emergency.”

Nina: (amused) “A what?”

Eddie: “Ozzy kinda got stuck inside my guitar.”

Nina: (bewildered) “He what?!”

Eddie: “He’s fine now! I bribed him with treats and he came out. No harm done.”

Nina: “Eddie!”

Eddie: “He was just exploring!” [joking] “Ozzy was definitely the right name for him, he’s got metal in his veins.” [Nina laughs] “How was the flight? Did you get home okay?”

Nina: (teasing) “Well if you heard from my voicemail, I was harassed the entire flight by a six year old and a bag of peanuts.” [Eddie laughs] “And I got a taxi home. Expensive but not too bad.”

Eddie: (worried) “Your Mom didn’t pick you up?”

Nina: “Broken foot, remember?”

Eddie: (wincing) “Right. How’s that going?”

Nina: “She’s pretty much bedbound at the moment but we’re getting on well. Civil. Diplomatic.”

Eddie: (sarcastic) “That’s big of her.”

Nina: “Don’t start.”

Eddie: “Okay darling, I’m sorry.” [tickling Ozzy under the chin] “What’s this about me needing to look in my bag?”

Nina: (smirking) “There’s a gift for you. Go look.”

Eddie: “Okay, wait right here one sec.” [Eddie sets the phone down on the bedside table and moves the kittens who have fallen asleep on his lap, Nina can hear him in the background apologising to the kittens for waking them up, Nina smiles at him, shaking her head, thinking how adorable he is. Eddie unzips the bag and Nina can hear him go “oh fuck” in the background. Heavy footprints become louder as he picks up the phone again] (amused) “You kinky girl.”

Nina: (smirking) “Do you like them?”

Eddie: [holding the red underwear in his hand, looking at the two Polaroid photos in front of him: one of Nina in her red underwear set, the second is the photo they took together in the caravan. Eddie smiles, biting his lip, blushing] “Love ‘em.”

Nina: (flirty) “Something to keep you going while I’m away.”

Eddie: (flirty, aroused) “You know, there are other ways of keeping me going while you’re away.”

Nina: (amused, contemplating it) “Eddie, I'm not having phone sex with you.”

Eddie: (faking annoyance) “Damn it.” [Nina giggles, Eddie smiles at her laughter, heartstrings being tugged] “Not even a little?”

Nina: [rolling her eyes, joking] “The Russians are listening, remember?”

Eddie: (awkward) “You don’t know the half of it.” [Nina laughs, Eddie forgets it and moves on. He looks in his bag and sees a copy of Stephen King’s The Shining] “What’s the book?”

Nina: “You said you wanted to read more, I thought you might like that one.”

Eddie: (grinning, looking at the note Nina has left on the front page ‘Hope you enjoy it, from Nina x’)

Eddie: “You remembered. Thank you. Got any plans for being home?”

Nina: “Might be having a catch up with some friends at the weekend but at the moment, just taking care of Mom, what about you?”

Eddie: “Hideout tomorrow, work Wednesday and Thursday, D&D Friday, working on the weekend. Same old.”

Nina: “I’ll call you on Wednesday when you’ve finished work?”

Eddie: [smiling] “I look forward to it.”

Nina’s Mom: [in the background, shouting, Eddie can hear it despite Nina covering the phone] “Nina! I didn’t bring you home for you to run my phone bill up!”

Nina: “I better go honey. I’ll speak to you soon.”

Eddie: (worried) “Okay darling. Goodnight.”

Nina: (quietly) “Goodnight Eddie.”

Eddie looks down at the photos of Nina and her underwear and laughs, smiling at Nina. He looks around, contemplating, before locking himself in the bathroom and dropping his joggers to his ankles and reaching in his boxers, grabbing his hard cock with his hand with Nina’s underwear wrapped in his fist. When he’s finished, he walks back into his room and sits on the bed. He looks around the room, bored, sighing sadly. He picks up the book and reads for the first time in a year.

Wednesday / 5pm California time, 8pm Hawkins time.

Nina: “So tell me everything, how’s Hawkins?”

Robin: [groaning dramatically] “So damn boring.” (Nina laughs) “Same old, same old here. Work is dead as per usual, Steve is useless at doing anything other than flirting with every girl that comes through the door, with a current zero percent success rate.” (Nina laughs again) “Mom has a date on friday night-” (Nina ‘oooh’s in the background and wolf whistles) “With that pervy postman-” (Nina gags) “But at least she’s getting herself out there! The hobbit children harass us at work every other day waiting for some nerdy film to be released, but other than that, nothing new!”

Nina: “And how are Ozzy and Garfield?”

Robin: “The vet's appointment went fine, they’re in surprisingly good condition considering they were abandoned, we’ve got some flea and worm treatment for them and they need to be back in a few months to be neutered! The very pretty vet said that they’re a bit underweight but at the rate Eddie is fattening them up, it shouldn’t be a problem!”

Nina: (rolling her eyes, smiling) “What’s he feeding them this time?”

Robin: (laughing) “I caught him feeding Garfield the butter off his toast this morning, and Ozzy is taking to eating cardboard boxes.”

Nina: [smiling at the thought] “Damn it, Eddie.”

Robin: “You should have seen him Nina, Ozzy keeps sitting on his shoulder like a parrot, and Garfield follows him around the trailer everywhere he goes.”

Nina: (trying to hide how homesick she feels) “That’s so sweet!” (after a quiet pause) “I miss you guys already.”

Robin: (cautiously) “How’s Californian life?”

Nina: “Weather is ridiculously hot, but it’s nice to be in the sunshine again.”

Robin: (amused) “Avoiding the topic, as usual.”

Nina: (laughing) “What can I say, I’m pro at it now.” (thinking carefully, quiet) “Things are okay. Not brilliant but bearable.”

Robin: “Is she giving you a hard time?”

Nina: [subdued, trying to make light of it] “Yeah… What with her pain meds and the withdrawal, she’s quite the handful.” (changing the topic) “But won’t be for too much longer and then I’ll be back.”

Robin: (laughing) “You’ve been gone three days and you’re already counting down the days till you come back.”

Nina: (amused) “You know I can’t stay away from you for too long.”

Robin: (smiling at the memory) “This reminds me of before you moved here, how we used to talk on the phone every Sunday.”

Nina: (teasingly) “And now you can’t get rid of me.”

Robin: “Wouldn’t have it any other way. Your mom does know you’re moving back here, right?”

Nina: “She does, I think.”

Robin: “Nina!”

Nina: “I didn’t not tell her…” [Robin snorts] “I’m just waiting for the right time.” (thoughtful) “I think she assumed I would move back if she stopped drinking.”

Robin: (sarcastic) “Cause that’s going so well for her.”

Nina: “I know.” (determined) “When we spoke on the phone I told her that I wasn’t coming back permanently, just until she got better.”

Robin: “Good. Keep in touch, okay? I’ve been worried.”

Nina: (unsure) “I will, I promise. I’ll call you on Friday?”

Robin: (smiling) “Sure. Speak soon, bestie.”

Nina laughs and says goodbye. She hangs up the phone and dials Eddie’s number.

Wayne: “Munson residence, who’s calling?”

Nina: “Hey Wayne! It’s Nina, is Eddie there?”

Wayne: “Nina! How’s California life?” [Eddie hears Wayne say Nina’s name and jumps up from the couch, trying to take the phone off Wayne] “Is the weather nice?”

Eddie: (whiny, wrestling with Wayne who holds the phone away from him) “Wayne, give me the phone!”

Wayne: “Edward, behave! I’m talking here!” (Amused, joking) “I’m sorry about that Nina, my Nephew has terrible manners!” [Nina hears Eddie whine in the background and laughs]

Nina: (smiling) “California is lovely, thank you for asking Wayne.”

Wayne: “Anytime! Bring me back some fortune cookies, will you?”

Nina: “Sure!”

Eddie: [grabbing the phone off Wayne] “Sorry about that, Wayne wouldn’t give me the phone.”

Nina: (teasingly) “Who said I was calling to talk to you? Maybe I was trying to call my best friend Wayne.”

Eddie: (deadpanned) “Very funny.”

Nina: (amused) “You know I like older guys, maybe I’m having Wayne on the side.”

Eddie: [trying to be unimpressed but too amused at the thought] “That’s just gross. You’re weird.”

Nina: “You love it.”

Eddie: [heart eyes] “I do.” [Nina giggles] “Even when you joke about fucking my uncle.”

Nina: (laughing) “The heart wants what the heart wants.”

Eddie: [shaking his head, smiling] “How are you, sweetheart?”

Nina: (sighing) “I’m okay, I guess. Missing you weirdos already.”

Eddie: (sadly) “I miss you too.” [smirking] “Thought you’ll be happy to know that Garfield and Ozzy have taken over your side of the bed, you’ve been replaced.”

Nina: [fake annoyance] “Those little shits.”

Eddie: “Eh, I don’t mind, I enjoy the company.”

Nina: (glumly) “I wish I had company, my insomnia has been shit ever since I came home.”

Eddie: (worried) “You okay?”

Nina: [lip wobbling, she coughs to clear the tears in her throat] “Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired.”

Eddie: “Not long till you’re home darling.”

Nina: (joking) “You counting down the days too?”

Eddie: “I am.” [looking over at the calendar on the kitchen wall, the three X’s through this week] “15 days and counting.”

Nina: (heart warmed) “You’re so sweet.”

Eddie: “Don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to keep up.”

Nina: (smiling) “Your secret is safe with me, baby.”

Saturday / 8pm California time, 11pm Hawkins time.

Nina: “Hey honey.”

Eddie: (giddy) “Nina! Hey baby, how are you doing?”

Nina: (fake enthusiasm) “I’m good thank you! How are you?”

Eddie: (rambling, excited) “I’m great thank you! Oh, you should have seen it Nina, at D&D yesterday I got everyone’s asses, nobody saw Vecna coming back again! You should have seen it, I had Dustin in tears and Mike having a mid-teen crisis!” [Nina smiles at the thought] “And at band practice this morning I finally nailed that solo! Are you proud of me?”

Nina: (smiling fondly) “So proud of you baby.”

Eddie: “Work was dull this afternoon but I got an early finish so I’m just hanging with the boys. I’ve taught Ozzy how to play fetch, I even found him a little bat toy to play with! How was surfing today?”

Nina: (sighing, feeling at peace hearing Eddie’s voice) “Good, it was so nice being back on the water again. Didn’t realise how much I missed it.”

Eddie: “We’ll have to find a beach for us to go to. We could all take a weekend trip somewhere! El and Max have been asking after you, they came in to work today wanting to hang out with you, I may have heard them call you their ‘cool older friend Nina’.

Nina: (smiling widely) “Really?”

Eddie: (laughing) “Yeah man, they love you, they’re almost as excited about you coming home as I am.”

Nina: “That’s sweet, that really cheered me up.”

Eddie: (worried) “Cheered you up? What’s wrong?”

Nina: (lying) “Nothing honey, I’m okay.”

Eddie: (not convinced) “Are you sure?”

Nina: (unsure) “Erm… I think so, yeah. Just a bit blue today.”

Eddie: [getting comfy on the couch, listening intently] “Want to talk about it?”

Nina: “I’m just… nostalgic and not in a good way. Being back home is a lot harder than I thought it would be.” (choking up) “It’s bringing back a lot of feelings and memories I wasn’t prepared for.”

Eddie: [slumped, saddened] “I’m sorry baby.”

Nina: [smiling sadly] “Don’t apologise, it’s not your fault. Hearing your voice has really cheered me up.”

Eddie: “I miss you.”

Nina: “I miss you too.”

Eddie: “I wish I could hug you.”

Nina: (small) “I wish you could too. I’m sorry I haven’t spoken in a few days, things have been a bit chaotic here.”

Eddie: [nodding understandingly, then realising Nina can’t see him, remembers to speak] “It’s okay. I know you’ve been busy.” (confessional) “I’ve thought about you all the time.”

Nina: (smiling) “Me too, Eddie. I keep seeing places I’d love to take you, maybe one day we could take a trip here.”

Eddie: (surprised) “Really?”

Nina: “Really. Just me and you.” (now rambling happily) “There’s this amazing ice cream shop by the beach that you’d love, it does the most amazing chocolate ice cream! And there’s this really cool rock bar I used to go to that I know you’d like, we’ll have to go there too. And then maybe one day we could go rock-pooling, the beaches here are amazing.”

Eddie: (fondly) “I’d love that.” (smiling) “My little mermaid.”

Nina: (blushing) “Shut up! So cheesy.” [Nina’s Mom shouts something down the stairs that Eddie can’t make out, Nina’s happy mood becomes more subdued] “I’ve got to go Eddie, Mom needs me. I’ll call again on Tuesday?”

Eddie: “Sure baby. I hope you’re okay.”

Nina: [chewing her lip] “I will be when I’m home.”

Eddie: “Are you really okay?”

Nina: (rushed) “I’ve got to go Eddie, I’ll speak to you soon, bye baby.” [Nina hangs up the phone]

Eddie looks at the phone after Nina hangs up, blinking. He doesn’t know how to feel. He puts the phone back on the receiver and sits with his guitar on his lap, mindlessly strumming the chords, his mind elsewhere.

Nina hurriedly puts the phone down and runs up the stairs, trying to avoid her Mom. She pushes her bedroom door closed and lies on her bed; pulling the covers over her head, hoping the flooding memories invading her mind will subside. They don’t.

➡️Chapter Seventeen - Matilda

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hetakinkmemeblog · 11 months

Note

For Request #78 Sorry if it ends a little abruptly, I wasn't sure how to end it.

By now, Kiku knew what Alfred would be buying. The corner store was halfway between campus and his apartment, so every day at 10:00 AM, he bought a 32 oz cup of coffee that was more sugar than caffeine, a cake donut, and Takis. Every afternoon, he swung by again for bacon jerky and a can of Dr. Pepper.

He was 6’2” of all-American beef with a healthy amount of fat emphasizing the muscles he’d gained from football, lacrosse, and wrestling. Over time, Kiku had learned that Alfred was on a football scholarship and was majoring in physics and secondary education. He learned that Alfred had broken up with his boyfriend a few months ago but wasn’t looking for anything serious right now, much to Kiku’s disappointment.

“Thanks, dude!” Alfred said as he took his change. “I’m going camping with some of the guys this weekend, so see you Monday!”

Kiku smiled as he handed Alfred his receipt, their fingers brushing. “See you Monday. Have fun!”

“Maybe if Mat remembers to bring enough marshmallows. See ya!” He left with his bacon jerky and Dr. Pepper, and Kiku swallowed a sigh as the next customer came up with chips and a case of beer.

Fridays got pretty busy, but after the afternoon rush started winding down, Kiku found himself thinking about Alfred again. He tried to distract himself with cleaning the counter or restocking the condiments for the store’s barely edible hotdogs and sausages.

Yet, Kiku’s mind kept returning to Alfred, picturing him half-naked in front of a campfire, of him stripping to dive into the lake with only the night and dark water to cover him. Kiku imagined himself with him, Alfred’s strong arms around him, of him pushing Kiku against the dock—

The bell on the door rang, and Kiku blinked hard and swore, almost dropping the chip bags he was stocking. There was a twinge in his slacks, and Kiku flushed and did his best to turn his thoughts away. He wasn’t about to deal with getting a hard-on at work!

He hurried behind the counter as an older man shuffled in, back slightly hunched and lines around his bright green eyes. There were equal amounts of gray and blonde hair poking out from underneath his black hat, and patchy stubble showed that he hadn’t shaved in a few days.

“Sorry for this,” the man said, almost a mumble, and Kiku braced himself.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to come in, wanting more than what they could afford. Kiku’s manager said his heart was too soft and that some of these guys were probably swindling him. Still, Kiku didn’t like the idea of turning people away just in case one of them might.

“Yes?” he asked politely, trying to smile. He was calming down, dick soft again.

“I haven’t been able to eat all day, but this is all I’ve been able to find…” The man’s spidery fingers released crumpled bills and a mess of coins on the counter, several of the coins not even US currency.

Most were pennies, and a few of the dollar bills weren’t ones he could take, due to tears or Washington sporting a Sharpie beard and eyebrows. Out of what the old man had, only $3.43 was what Kiku could take. There wasn’t a whole lot that the old man could get with that—a hotdog or tamale and a soda maybe. A water instead of soda if Kiku was willing to pretend to mistake a few of the pesos and loonies as US coins.

The man’s hands were shaking, and he was pale, making the freckles on his sallow cheeks and sagging neck stand out. Even his lips were pale, even chapped.

“Pick out what you’d like,” Kiku found himself saying, piling the money into neat piles. “I’ll pay.”

“Oh, no, young man—”

“I insist,” Kiku said firmly. “Please, go ahead.”

“Thank you, thank you,” the old man said. “You’re such a kind soul. You deserve much more than this sort of place.” He pulled something out of his coat pocket, reaching out, and Kiku hesitated but held out his hand. The old man set something cold and round into his palm, his gaze intense as he stared into Kiku’s eyes. “Now don’t waste this wish on anything frivolous, and word it well. Spirits enjoy having fun.”

“Th-thank you,” Kiku said, unsure of what else to say. The old man kept his gaze. “I’ll make sure to give it thought.”

The old man finally nodded and went to find some food. Meanwhile, Kiku looked at what was in his hand. It was a pewter coin, little dents showing someone had hammered the metal down by hand. Some kind of symbols were etched into both sides, the symbols looking like something he’d see in the manga Umineko no Naku Koro ni. He slipped the coin into his pocket, and he prepared his card, running it and giving the old man his money back as he punched in what he’d gotten.

“That’s all?” Kiku asked, looking at the sausage in a pretzel bun, piled with relish and onions, the large bag of salt and vinegar chips, and the 32 oz to-go cup of drip coffee—not the sugary “espresso drinks” they had—with a bit of cream, the old man mixing in some sugar.

“I prefer tea, but coffee tastes more passable when it cools down, and I need it to last me as I travel. The trains are north of here, yes?”

“Yes, sir,” Kiku answered. “Once you pass the skate park, there should be a trail through the grass leading straight there. I’d watch for police after the sun sets, though. Some of them like to hang out there, looking for people hoping to jump onto the cars.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” The man took his items, putting the chips into his backpack. “Thank you again, young man, and I hope you make your wish with care.”

“I will,” Kiku promised, though it wasn’t long before he forgot about the coin in his pocket.

Sunday night, Kiku was tossing the clothes littering his floor into his hamper to do laundry. In his rush to beat the rush to the laundromat in the basement of the apartment building, Kiku heard a heavy thump. He jumped and looked down, seeing a pewter disk the size of one of those old silver dollars. His brow wrinkled, but then he remembered the old man from Friday afternoon.

Kiku slipped the coin into his shorts pocket and finished grabbing all his dirty clothes and brought them downstairs with detergent and dryer sheets. He threw in everything into the last machine available, not caring about sorting by color. He wore mostly black or earth tones. He didn’t see any reason to sort them. While waiting for his clothes to wash, Kiku took out his phone. He tried looking up what the symbols on the coin were, but while he found some that looked similar, he couldn’t find anything that matched them exactly.

Kiku fiddled with the coin as he went onto Instagram, going straight to Alfred’s account. He scrolled carefully, not wanting to accidentally like one of his posts. It looked like he’d returned from the camping trip—or found Wi-Fi—recently. The past several posts were of him with some of his teammates, Kiku rolling his eyes at one of the pictures of Alfred posing with a fish he’d caught. He was shirtless in it, at least, Kiku almost groaning at the barbed wire tattooed around his bicep, words above and below it. Kiku was willing to bet his paycheck it was a Bible verse.

Alfred was lucky he was hot.

As Kiku fiddled with the coin, he scrolled and scrolled, finding his mind wandering and his dick stirring. I wish I could feel him fucking me every night.

“Shit,” Kiku grunted, the coin falling to the ground as he barely managed to catch his phone before it landed on top of it. He could not afford to get a new one right now if he broke this one. “What the hell?”

His fingers looked blistered where he’d held the coin, and his brow wrinkled as he bent down and tapped it a few times before picking it up again. If not for his blisters, he’d swear it was his imagination.

Kiku forgot all about the burns and coin when he woke up his phone and realized that he’d accidentally liked one of Alfred’s posts from three months ago. Shit!

That night, Kiku dreamed he was being pushed against his bed as his ass was pulled up in the air. His fingers dug into the sheets as someone sheathed into him, making Kiku grunt and swear as he felt the muscle stretch painfully at first. Without waiting for him to get comfortable, the person Kiku couldn’t see started thrusting in and out, shallowly at first. He changed angle every so often, and Kiku gasped out each breath as a line of his drool hit the pillow.

He woke up as he came into his sheets, swearing under his breath, both from the feeling and also in annoyance. He’d just cleaned these!

Only, when Kiku started to get up, he became aware of the stretched feeling parting his ass cheeks, and he blinked slowly. Confused, he started to sit up when he suddenly felt that phantom thrusting again, Kiku seeing that it wasn’t just a dream. The thrusts were harder this time, almost frustrated. The invisible cock slammed into him again and again, and Kiku slammed his pillow against his face as he came again, shaking.

Still, the thrusting didn’t stop, Kiku whimpering now. He was sore, but he was sore in the best way as he fell back again, legs up like he was ready to take this phantom cock again. He slowly grew hard again, but right before he could cum a third time, the thrusting finally stopped, and Kiku pulled the pillow over his face again, this time to groan in his own frustration. His dick felt too sensitive after coming twice for him to jerk himself off, so Kiku was forced to deal with the discomfort of his erection as he switched out his sheets. He was soft again by the time he fell back asleep.

“Welcome back,” Kiku said as Alfred entered. “Have fun?”

“Sure did!” Alfred got his usual breakfast. “It was awesome. Loads of fun. I hope you didn’t miss me too bad.”

He grinned, and Kiku cleared his throat as he blushed. He must have noticed Kiku liking that post from three months ago. Kiku’s account was private, but he used a selfie as his pfp. He should have changed it back Miku.

“It was quieter,” Kiku replied, hoping his voice was even. He smiled when Alfred laughed.

“I bet. Welp, back to the grind, right? See you later, Kiku!” Alfred left, and Kiku sipped iced tea to wet his mouth, which had become suddenly dry.

That night, the phantom thrusting happened again, waking Kiku up right before he came, this time into a towel—just in case. He came again before fully waking up, Kiku biting his pillow as his fingers dug into the sheets.

Three streets away, Alfred pumped himself with his new fleshlight, the silicone matching the asshole of some porn star Alfred had never heard of—he’d only gotten this one because all the other butthole ones were sold out on the sight. The fit felt nicer than the vagina-shaped one he’d used before, and the mouth-shaped ones always just looked too weird. Looking at the silicone lips would make him get too distracted to keep from cumming.

He was still getting used to using one in general, Alfred still figuring out angles and speed to get himself off. It felt nicer than his own hand, but Alfred really wished it was a real ass he was plowing. Maybe that cute cashier’s. Alfred had been wanting to ask him out for a while, but he felt weird about it, when Kiku was working. He didn’t want to come off as harassing him or anything! But he’d never seen Kiku on campus and didn’t know where he lived or hung out, so it wasn’t like he could “accidentally” bump into him at his favorite café or store. When he saw that he’d liked one of his posts, Alfred thought maybe he’d hit the jackpot—why hadn’t he thought about trying to find his socials before?!—but Kiku’s profile was private. Of course it was. And Alfred worried sending a follow request would make him come off as creepy.

Thinking of Kiku lying on his bed, face cutely flush and dick hard, Alfred jerked off.

Back in Kiku’s room, he curled up, closing his eyes and trying to pretend that it was Alfred fucking him as he rode out the phantom cock. He was getting hard again, and sweat was breaking out down his neck and along his forehead. He bit down on his pillow hard as he came again, shivering as he slowly came down from the high of orgasm, becoming aware that the thrusting had finally stopped. He sighed and pushed the towel away, too tired to clean it off before the cum hardened.

The next night, the thrusting came back while Kiku was showering after working late. He’d agreed to take half a coworker’s shift while Toris took the other half, and his body was killing him.

“Again?” he huffed, leaning against the mildewy tile as he felt the huge, phantom cock moving in and out of him.

Kiku jerked himself off at the same time, wondering if it would make the feeling pass faster.

It stopped abruptly a minute later, Kiku biting back a groan as he kept jerking himself off until he came and was able to finish showering.

The next night was a much different feeling, Kiku writhing around in his bed and knocking down his towel, blankets, and pillows. He grunted and groaned, feeling as if fingers were digging into him. He then felt water rush into his anus despite his body remaining totally dry. Kiku bit into his arm to keep from making whatever feral noise was bubbling up his throat. He soon tasted something metallic and realized he’d broken skin, and he became aware of feeling something like a microfiber cloth rubbing around inside of him. Oh, God, what was happening?

After another rinse, it was over, and Kiku gasped and sputtered, shaking as he stared up at his popcorn ceiling. God that had felt weird. What was that?!

Filled Request

Request #78

AmeriPan Magic Onahole AU

Kiku works part-time at a 24-hour corner store. He has a major crush on one of the regular customers, Alfred. Late one evening, while commuting home, he is approached by an eccentric stranger.

They appear homeless and offer to grant Kiku a wish for some change. He doesn't believe in magic or the like, but he takes pity on them and gives them what he has to spare. Kiku has some lude desires and wishes to be fucked by Alfred.

That night, Kiku is startled awake. Bizarrely, it feels like he is being penetrated from behind. However, upon inspection, he finds nobody is around and is phantom rammed until dawn.

It turns out the stranger granted his wish. Alfred's fleshlight is now a voodoo doll. Every time it is used, Kiku experiences everything.

What a predicament.

#hws a/merica #hws j/apan #amepan #filled prompts #request 078 #hetalia kink meme

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pixielovers2account · 7 months

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Positively and strictly EVIL.

It was mid afternoon when I went down the escalator. My eyes hitting the screen up above of a young girl that looks like they could be Dora the explorer’s daughter. I groaned rolling my eyes “another bratty star I bet she’s another child predator.” I rolled my eyes walking through the subway.

…

I was looking for face products but now I only find myself looking at a picture of that girl “ugh oh she’s everywhere isn’t she?” I looked at the product judging it just by the girl wanting to mock her produced I bought it. “Bet this doesn’t even work and when it doesn’t I’ll end her corer.” What? I don’t have to have a revenge ark or some sad sulk story to just be a bitch.

I whistle as I sat down in front of a mirror. I had fans lots of them I exposed people for there tack products and who they really are. Some people hate me some people don’t either way I get money from these fake stars.

“Okay guys today we are gonna be using Jenny Ortega face products DIOR and you know how the show goes people so I’m gonna do whatever it says on the page like using warm water before I apply to see if she’s a fake or is she real let’s see.”

It’s the first day of course I wasn’t going to see Andy changes but I fast forward to a week and “holy shit guys this actually works. Looks like mrs Jenny Ortega isn’t a fake.” People yelled at me in the comments for criticizing her name and for my criticizing of her body the way she looks and accusing her of using plastic surgery and various other things. But do I care? No not at all not until I meet this girl I won’t change my mind and I have said this to my fans.

…

Monday: October 17:2025 time 12:45

The air was sweet with wind a cold gust of air always blowing. October might be my favorite time of the year. Pumpkins and different colors what a beautiful season. “Good morning y/n.” An younger male spoke i smiled at the boy “hello mallet.” He started on rambling about his day till he told me about the news “did you know about Jenna Ortega she’s coming to this store today! How awesome is that.” This took my interest “oh…? Oh really.”

…

I walked through the store my curiosity peeking when I hear people mumbling to each other taking out their phones. And yelling “what’s up?” I asked out loud finding myself pushing pass crowds and trying to go around only bumping into someone. “Fuck!” I groaned out now cursing as all of my hard work spilled over the floor “what the hell!” I finally open my eyes meeting pitch black ones.

“I’m so sorry mrs here let me help you.” I sat there love struck as she picked up my items up a clear face not even a pick of bumps freckles sprinkled over her face making her such a sight to see and her lips oh her lips so pink so plump so…and handed them to me.the items I mean “Th-thank you…I….I’m.” The girl hushed me “I know who you are..” my eyes widened as my face filled with a pink hazy blush “oh…I” I fiddled with my thing’s trying to find a word to say that would fit but nothing came to mind. We both stood I noticed the slight hight difference. I looked down into her eyes “Jenna right?” I asked licking my lips.

She nods “y/n right.” I nodded too. “You seem kind, why put on an act?” She asked I was struck a lost for wards. “I well…I just speak the truth.”

“But also tell lies don’t you y/n?” I bit my lip. Her hands grazing my arms. “So…tell me do you want to get to know me?” Her eyes flickered to mine “y/n?”

“Yes…”

…

It’s been months since I got to know her she’s sweet loving kind how could I ever criticize such a lovely person “y/n I have coffee!” A voice calls with an exited twinkle. She comes into my room and opens the bouncy door handing the coffee to me. “Thank you Jenna.” I smiled at the smaller girl taking a sip “oh, it’s my favorite! I didn’t know they still sailed this.” I smiled and looked to Jenna “how?”

Jenna places her hand to her lip “shh now that’s a secret.” She giggles a bit. Taking a sip of her own. “I’m guessing that has ginger?” She nods taking another sip before looking to me.

“You know a lot of people say Y/F/D and my ginger coffee will make a great match. Wanna try?” I nodded quickly taking another sip.

“Okay come here honey…” she mumbles a bit.

She moves in closer…closer till our lips meet a stinking taste of vanilla, ginger and like a chocolate chip cookie we matched together such a sweet taste we both moan into to each other. Her leg rising to my hip as we held each other in a desperate attempt to get closer.

We where hungry like wolves.

Pulling away. Breathless…boneless.

“Your a horrible kisser you know?” I joked.

“You know your positivity and strictly evil.” She giggles leaning her head back letting herself breathe in the sun.

#female reader #jenna ortega #lesbian

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stefanmikaleson1864 · 2 years

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Chicago Intelligence Part Nine ! :)

Chicago Intelligence Part Nine !!!

A/N: I am so so sorry this late i have been crazzy busy with trying to keep up with my school work and working full time. I really hope you enjoy this chapter ! Let me know what you think

Also if you like my work please comment like and reblog it means a lot to see interactions on my work

Taglist: @dragonqueeneliza

@freyathehuntress @itsdesiree86 @star017

@icantthinkofausername @samantha-chicago

OA’S POV

To say I was worried was an understatement. I just had a good way of showing it from my time in the Military and even being an Agent working undercover.

Before It was easier you know not really caring what happened to me before.

Things were different know I hads someone who was waiting for me at home. Someone who I loved more than anything else in the world.

When I first meant Y/N i was lost didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere.

Then when I meant her she brought this other side of me out. It was for all the better. She made me want to be better not hold back how I was feeling.

When i agreed to come down to Chicago I knew I was taking a risk. I knew It would be hard because A I was leaving her behind and second of all I was going to be working against Jay who I was with in the military.

I knew I had to do the right thing though and come down here and take these people off the street. Try and make the world a little better and a little safer.

Just knowing Y/N and my twins were back at home made it so much harder than I ever pictured.

I know what it was like growing up without my dad and I never wanted that for my children. I don’t want to leave Y/N behind either without having the chance to grow old with her.

But that’s the job I chose and I made the decision to come down and now I’m stuck for whatever happens next.

I’m just hoping now we reached the end of it. That after we bust them in the act it would all be over and we could move on.

So I reached back out to “my buyer” In hopes of setting up the trap. The waiting was always the hardest part.

It surely didn’t take long for them to reach out though which was surprising because these type of people run on their schedule.

The meet was for late tonight and I knew the reason why. Because if they locked me up after a certain time it meant I would be released until Monday morning.

The nerves were real as I changed into my outfit. I just took a few deep breathes and got into my character.

I looked at the picture of me and Y/N and her belly. We were at the park that day the 4 of us and it was such a good day.

I carried it around with me where ever I went. I looked at it and tucked it away in my room.

I walked out and headed down to my car. I drove to the destination when I got there headed in. It was a old bar the type where outsiders always stuck out like a sore thumb.

I held my head up high and ignored the looks i got and headed back to where they were waiting for me.

There was a new guy there. He was tall wearing a plaid shirt. He had brown hair and Brown eyes. It looked like he was inside for intelligence.

“So what’s the deal” I asked

“See I told you this man don’t play around” Rick said who was “my guy”

“I came to do business and not mess around” I said

“I like this guy” The man with the plaid shirt said.

“I got about 24 Ak47’s I need take off of me” Rick said.

“Maybe we can work out a deal together” I said

“What are you looking to get” the other man said.

“Some kind of discount sense I’m such a loyal buyer” I said.

“I think we can work something out” Rick said

“Fine I’ll take them off your hands” I said

Next thing you know the man with the plaid jacket pulled out a gun and pointed at me and I tried to remain calm.

“Chicago PD put your hands up in the air now” The man yelled.

I raised my hands slowly and kept them up there.

“Come on man are you serious right now” I said

“Yea I am your under arrest for buying Illegal weapons” The man yelled.

“Listen your making a mistake” I said

“Like hell I am” The man yelled

He walked over and grabbed my hands placing them in cuffs. It wasn’t the first time considering my undercover work I had done before.

“I’m FBI okay I’m undercover” I said.

He didn’t say anything he just took me and lead me to the car. I didn’t even bother wasting my breath anymore.

He took me out to a black svu and there was a girl sitting in the front with short black hair in a pony tail. We headed back to the district.

It was quiet the whole ride back. When we got there they took me the back way. I walked into the integration room and there was voight waiting for me along with Hailey. Who i recognize and remember from earlier.

“We have a deal for you” Voight said

“What are you talking about” I asked

“I know your FBI and have been investigating Hailey with the CI case” Voight said.

“No idea what you are talking about” I said.

“Now is not the time for games” Hailey said

“Listen we scratch your back you scratch ours” Voight said

“I have nothing to want from you so it wouldn’t be a fair trade off” I said.

“Really we know about Y/N and the twins word gets around your a snitch a undercover fed how does that work out for you and your family” Voight said

I could feel the blood boiling in my veins when he threatened my family. But I tried to control myself because they didn’t deserve to see me like that.

So i leaned in and looked Voight in the eyes and we just looked at each other no one speaking up.

Then i decided to break the silence and speak up

“You got no deal and if ever threaten my family again it will be the last thing you ever do so help me god” I said

“You might want to re think who your threatening” Voight said

“I know damn well who I’m threating and I don’t give a damn” I said.

Voight didn’t say anything just left the room but Hailey stayed behind. She just sat leaned up against the hall.

I just looked at her not say anything nothing really needed to be said. Then she walked over and sat down in front of me.

“I wouldn’t be so dumb right now if I were you” Hailey said

“Listen i don’t have anything to worry about unlike him okay so what ever you say to me doesn’t matter” I said

“Voight is connected man he knows people” Hailey said

“I don’t care he can’t threaten people and do what ever he wants this ends now” I said

“I know that Y/N is your girlfriend the mother of your children and Jay is her dad” Hailey said

“If you all know all that then how do you sit here while he threatens her like that your boyfriend’s child are you willing to go that low because let me tell you something Hank Voight isn’t worth it” I said

She didn’t say anything after that just got up and left the room. I leaned back on the chair and just sat in there. It felt like hours were going by.

I wondered where Jay was in all of this was he out there really helping or was he just working the other side.

I was worried about what was going out there. Was Y/N okay and Maggie did they reach out to them. It killed me so bad not knowing what was happening out there.

Then what felt like hours and it probably was the man from earlier and Hailey came in . they had this look on their face.

“Get Up” The man said

“No I won’t like I said I am a federal agent and I was working an undercover case” I said

“ yeah well we have no record and your ass is going down” The man said.

“Not my problem I want my rep and I want to talk to someone you don’t have any right to arrest me” I said

“Get up Now” Hailey said

I just sat there not moving and not going down without a fight. The man grabbed my arm and yanked me up

“There is no reason for excessive force” I said

“Yeah well i’ll be as rough as I want to be” The man said

He then put some cuffs on me and it was a whole different feeling from before.

Then they walked me out and in the hallway they took me into what looked like their workspace and Jay and other people were around looking at me.

Jay didn’t say anything he just gave me this look that was hard to read. I didn’t look down though i kept my head up high as they walked me out.

They walked me down there stairs and there was the same desk sergeant from earlier and a bunch of cops were looking at me.

They walked me down to the car and sat me in the back. The car ride down was silent. I knew it was going to be hard.

The ride took a while or it seemed like to me. When we approached it got real seeing the wired fences and the locked doors.

We pulled in and i tried to slow my breathing. We reached the front and other officers came over and grabbed me out.

Then we walked inside the booking area. They took my finger prints, my mug shot and started processing me. When they emptied my stuff out there was a small bug hidden inside of my key chain.

One they didn’t know that was recording them the whole time. I hoped it didn’t “get lost” somehow i doubt it considering they knew nothing about.

They were finishing up the process I heard a familiar voice speak up to me. I tried not snap my neck and look at them

“I got him from here” Jubals’s voice rung out

He was dressed in a police uniform and he gave me a small comforting look to me. Like i got you.

Hailey and the other man just nodded having no idea and then they took off. He didn’t want to take me away because it would look suspicious.

He just nodded at me like it’s, going to be okay and it was such a relief knowing he was here and I wasn’t alone in here.

I went through the normal booking process. Which took forever by the way. The whole time i tried to keep my mind off things but it seemed more easier than done. I wanted nothing more to run over to Jubal and ask about Y/N.

Tell him where her and Maggie where to at least know something but I couldn’t. We worked to hard to get where we were.

After a couple of hours in the booking area watching trash tv and trying to keep my distance Jubal walked over to me and grabbed me by the arm. He walked me down the hall and to this private jail cell.

He closed the door and he waited a minute before speaking up making sure it was safe.

“Hey there okay we got them Scola and Tiff are here to there okay we also know about the recording device where is it” Jubal asked.

“It’s in my keychain the one i brought with me” I said

“Where going to take it to a federal judge and by monday morning she’s going to be handing out warrants not before you get out here” Jubal said

“Thank you and you sure there okay” I asked

“Positive it’s going to be okay have I ever lied to you” Jubal said

“Just get through this weekend and it’s going to be okay” Jubal said

“I will thank you for everything for having my back” I said

“Always just keep your head down and get through this weekend I’ll be here as much as I can” Jubal said

“Thanks man” I said back

After that he had to leave. Leaving me alone in this small cell. I kept telling myself get through this weekend and everything is gonna be okay.

It was all going to be over soon I hoped …

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adultswim2021 · 1 year

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The Boondocks #16: “...Or Die Trying” | October 8, 2007 - 11:30PM | S02E01

Wow! I forgot Boondocks was a thing! This crept up on me, folks. Important to note (is it?) that Boondocks aired on Monday nights. Being a date pendant I think I should periodically remind people that I use the “after midnight” definition for dates and times rather than dating things as the night-of, which to be fair to the rest of the world IS a conventional way of doing things when discussing TV schedules. I’m just different, I guess. A bad boy.

There is something nice about funny, episodic television, not trying to be special with it’s season premieres. This is just a fun episode in the lives of our favorite family; no re-piloting, no tying up some loose end from an unwieldy previous season’s finale. This is merely the one where Rocko and Heffer go to the movies, except Granddad is taking the kids to see Soul Plane 2. They take the neighbor girl with them, who threatens to bring down the whole criminal enterprise the Freemans have going (sneaking into the theater with outside food and no tickets). They also lie about taking the neighbor girl to an R-Rated movie. And hey, John Witherspoon plays “himself” in the trailer for Soul Plane 2. He was in the original. So was Gary Anthony Williams, the guy who plays Uncle Ruckus. I didn’t realize that Uncle Ruckus bit until looking it up on the wiki.

Snoop Dogg also reprises his role from Soul Plane for this imagined sequel. There’s also an insulting portrayal of 50 Cent that, I’ll be honest, I’m not sure I really get. I’ll just assume it’s funny. Oh, I just looked it up. I’m guessing it’s a reference to the motion picture Get Rich or Die Tryin', which was his big Hollywood acting debut. I think they’re just saying he’s a bad actor. None of this was on my radar at the time, sorry to disappoint the thousands of people who read this.

Uncle Ruckus is an usher in this, hellbent on catching the Freemans. The neighbor girl is terrified of being caught. Huey teaches one of the staff about unionizing as a way to distract him (this winds up paying off at the end). And there is a much more hyperbolic parody of the famous “You woudln’t steal a car” anti-piracy trailer that used to show up before movies back in this day. Even more incredible is a parody of another, slightly lesser-known trailer where a stunt man talks about how he too is affected by piracy. I worked at a movie theater around this time, and our theater showed a different trailer from the same series with a white crew member. I sincerely wonder if somebody did market research on my hick town and decided to send us the white guy instead?

Pretty fun episode! Maybe not the best episode ever, but there’s enough going for it, and the Soul Plane parody is pretty irresistible. Glad to have Boondocks back, for sure.

MAIL BAG:

Kon writes:

Hey yo wassup this is Kon, how's it hangin' Jellybean?

KON! How’s her hangin! I am so glad to hear from you! HELLO KON! Everyone say hello to Kon!

#adult swim #adultswim2021 #the boondocks

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cherrygorilla · 2 years

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The Mixtape Mysteries - Prologue (Part 1)

September - Earth, Wind & Fire - 3:35

You have no idea how excited I am to finally start sharing the story that has completely taken over my brain for the past two months with you. Inspired by a TV show I’m unhealthily obsessed with, fuelled by a love of 80s music, and packed with characters I adore... Let the investigation begin!

Listen along with the gang here.

Also, side note, I’ll be using songs throughout this series that are released later than when it’s set. For the sake of the story, just pretend they aren’t though because they work too well for me not to include them lol. It’s nothing crazy though; they’re all still released in the confines of the decade, just maybe a couple of years out. And if you can suspend your disbelief for long enough to believe these guys are going to be fighting monsters in suburban Indiana, then you can believe Madonna released Into the Groove in 1984.

Monday - September 3rd, 1984

The scratchy cotton of a poorly dried pillowcase brushed against ruddy skin as the boy stretched and rolled to face the window. Soft, orange sunlight bathed his side of the room in light thanks to how haphazardly he'd closed the curtains the night before, but a lazy smile stretched across his face, nonetheless. The early morning air was thick and stuffy, due to the residual summer heat clinging to the September breeze, and the dust he could see caked on the windowpane and floating through the rogue sunbeam certainly weren’t helping matters. But as Royce rubbed the sleep from his eyes and grabbed his dog-eared journal from his bedside table, he couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything but content. After all, his dad was finally out of the picture, Miles was finally in a good enough position money-wise to support all three of them without any help from Uncle Tommy (even if it did mean him having to work every night of the week), and his best friend was finally coming back from her month-long vacation. This year was going to be a good one, he could feel it. It had to be.

By the time he’d scrawled out a full page in his journal, the sky outside had brightened to a sunny yellow, streaked with powder blue. But just before he could turn to a blank one, a familiar knocking drew his gaze to his bedroom door.

“Come on, guys, up and at ‘em. We’ve got thirty minutes, tops, before we need to leave,” Miles announced, using what energy he wasn’t pouring into keeping himself upright to make sure his words didn’t come out as the incoherent mumble they were in his head.

"Yeah, ‘cause I'm the one that needs the wake-up call," Royce cheekily drawled back as he rolled his eyes and tossed his journal back to its home on his nightstand.

"It's too early for your sarcasm, Royce. Get some breakfast," Miles huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut and let his weight fall against the doorframe. Clearly having to be up this early wasn't nearly as pleasant for him as it was for his younger brother.

With a chuckle, Royce threw his comforter off him and bounced out of bed, grabbing a hoodie from the floor as he went.

Letting out a yawn that looked as though it sapped more energy than Miles could muster, the eldest Murphy brother shook his head in a further attempt to wake himself up enough to keep his eyes open for more than five seconds at a time. When he did eventually open his eyes again, he noted that Royce was already on his feet, but Bentley was still snuggled under his duvet. Although now, the younger boy's pillow was being held over his head, rather than resting under it.

"Let's go, Benny," Miles said a little more forcefully this time, punctuating the coaxing with a few claps to chivvy the boy along. "We've not got all morning; we need to be out the door by 7:30am. Don't make this any harder than it needs to be."

"It's too early," came the mumbled response from beneath the old, plaid pillowcase.

"Yeah, you're preaching to the choir, buddy," Miles sighed as a ghost of a wry smile drifted across his face. It was soon replaced by another yawn though as he stepped back out of the doorway and disappeared out of view. "Get dressed then come have some breakfast. I'm not having you go to school hungry," he ordered as he traipsed down the hall, feet shuffling along the floorboards the whole way.

When Bentley made no attempt to move, Royce had to bite back a chuckle as he grabbed the pillow from over his little brother's head and lightly thumped him with it.

"Hey!" the blond squeaked.

"Come on, Benny, you've gotta get up. You've got a big day ahead of you; you only start middle school once," Royce said with a mischievous grin.

"I don't want to go," Benny grumbled, grabbing his pillow back.

"Why not?"

"Middle school sucks."

"No it doesn't."

"It does. Literally everyone says so," Bentley huffed with a scowl.

"It's really no big deal, Benny. It's just like elementary school, but with different classes."

"That's not what they say in the movies."

"So what? You're going to listen to some bogus movies over your super smart big brother?" Royce teased.

"...Maybe," the boy stubbornly murmured, but Royce just chuckled in response.

"You'll be fine, Benny. And besides, it's not like you're going through it alone; your friends are all in the same boat. You can figure everything out together. And if you need anything, Viv and I will be there to help too. It's not going to be hard to find us; it's a pretty small school."

"Really?" A hint of hope edged into his tone.

"Sure thing," the brunet grinned. "Now get up, lazy bones. You're already last in line to use the bathroom," he added, causing his little brother to let out another groan of frustration that only made him laugh more as he made his way out of their shared bedroom.

Cleaned, dressed, and ready for some breakfast, Royce later found himself joining his older brother in the kitchen, shooting him a smile as he approached their rickety, splintering dining table. Miles was sat absentmindedly watching the news on the shitty little TV they had balanced on the countertop - well, listening to it really if the fact that he could still barely keep his eyes open was anything to go by. He had one hand wrapped around a cup of coffee that was sitting atop a faded coaster from an ancient family vacation to Michigan, and the other held a half-eaten slice of burnt toast. Needless to say, their toaster worked about as well as their TV did. When Miles cracked his eyes open to take another bite, he finally took notice of his guest, although his brow furrowed at the realisation that the younger boy was holding back a laugh.

"You want me to get you a plate for that?" Royce chuckled as he watched stray toast crumbs tumble into the mug below.

"No, it'll just mean more dishes to wash later," Miles sighed. "And besides, I like my coffee crunchy," he mumbled, attempting a joke despite his energy deficit.

"Suit yourself," Royce said with another chuckle as he turned to grab a clean bowl from the drying rack.

"You seem to be in a good mood," Miles noted after a pause, watching his brother curiously as the thirteen-year-old weighed up their extensive cereal collection: a mostly empty box of Crispix, a box of stale Cocoa Pebbles dust, and an untouched box of Raisin Bran.

"Is that a bad thing?" Royce asked, opting for the Crispix.

"No, just a little odd," Miles replied before taking a swig of his coffee. "You do know it's the first day back at school, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"And that's something you're pleased about?"

"He's not pleased about going to school," Bentley piped up as he entered the kitchen, wearing a teasing smile and a wrinkled, striped t-shirt. "He's just excited to see his girlfriend again."

"Ahh," Miles said as an amused grin spread across his face, in sync with the furious blush raging across Royce's.

"She is not my girlfriend," Royce insisted, tweaking the TV's antennas so that it would stop buzzing so loudly.

"Tell that to your face," Bentley snorted, prodding his brother's cheek before he dodged around him and began to explore the available breakfast options.

"You don't have to be embarrassed, Royce. You and Vivien are really sweet together," Miles said. His amused grin showed no signs of shifting, and neither did the topic of conversation, much to Royce's dismay.

"We're just friends, stop making things weird."

"If you're 'just friends' then why are you always following her around like you're her shadow? That's what's weird," Bentley snickered as he took one look in the Cocoa Pebbles box and replaced it in defeat.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to hang out with your best friend. I don't say it's weird every time I see you hanging out with Zack, do I?"

"Oh so she's your best friend now?" Miles asked, raising his eyebrow as his grin broadened.

"Don't you start too!" Royce protested. "I'm just looking forward to hearing about her vacation, okay?"

"Okay, I believe you," Miles chuckled through a mouthful of toast.

"You're not one to talk anyway. You spend your whole work shift drooling over that spawn of Satan at the DJ booth," Royce snapped as he angrily stirred his cereal.

Miles opened his mouth to protest, hoping his burning cheeks weren't as noticeable as they felt, but Bentley, thankfully, butted in to provide a distraction. "Hey! Since when did we have Eggos?" he exclaimed, eyes alight with glee.

"Since I spent my lunch break yesterday at the grocery store," Miles chuckled.

"But we never get Eggos," Royce said, shooting Miles a puzzled look as Bentley tore open the box.

"Yeah, well, I thought you guys could use a treat. It's not the first day of school every day, you know? It's a big deal," he said with a smile as he watched Bentley excitedly load up the toaster. But when Royce didn’t seem to be convinced by his generosity alone, he went on to admit: "And they were on clearance.”

"Thanks, Miles! This totally beats Raisin Bran," Bentley grinned, eagerly watching the filaments of the toaster glow an ever-brighter red.

"I think anything beats Raisin Bran," Royce snickered.

"Keep an eye on them, Benny. That thing will turn them into charcoal if you're not careful," Miles said, shooting the machine a dirty look as he finished his burnt slice of toast. "And I am not about to waste my hard-earned money on food for the raccoons that live in our trash can."

"They don't live there, they just play in it," Royce clarified with a chuckle.

"Yeah, we went out to clean up after them yesterday and they'd left little muddy paw prints all over one of the drawings I threw out," Bentley chimed in just as the toaster pinged beside him, causing him to jump. He hungrily grabbed for one of the waffles but snatched his hand back and hissed in pain when he realised how hot they still were.

"Why'd you throw out one of your drawings?" Miles asked as his eyebrows furrowed once more, completely unphased by his little brother's burned fingers. After all, Bentley's impatience was well-established in their household. "You didn't even give me a chance to put it on the refrigerator."

"It wasn't a finished one. It just wasn't going right, and I'd erased it so many times I'd made a hole in the paper," he explained, before adding with a laugh. "I think the raccoons walking all over it made it better, actually."

"I can go and fish it out of the trash can if you want, Miles. I think it would make a great addition to the fridge," Royce said with a cheeky grin.

"Yeah, I can't think of a more appropriate way to decorate this dump than by sticking literal garbage to the walls," Miles mused as he took another swig of his coffee. That swig turned into several gulps though as a car horn blared over the droning voices of the news anchors, and he raced to finish the mug's contents. "Come on, guys. Grab your things, we've gotta motor," he announced, hurriedly dumping the last dregs of coffee down the drain.

"Wait, I haven't even had my Eggos!" Bentley protested, still preoccupied with rescuing the waffles from the faulty toaster.

"Just take them 'to-go'," Miles said as he ushered his little brother towards the front door. "We can't be late."

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to miss any precious learning time, would we?" Royce sarcastically chuckled as he precariously balanced his empty cereal bowl atop the pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

“No, actually, we wouldn’t, because if we do it’s my ass on the line. And I have enough to deal with already without CPS kicking down our door. So, if you want to keep living here, then I suggest you show a little hustle,” Miles barked back as he swung open their front door. Royce and Bentley weren’t fazed by the snappiness of his tone though; Miles was always his grumpiest on a morning, and they knew his heart was in the right place. They would probably have been more concerned if he hadn't retaliated to be honest; at least this showed he cared.

All the Murphy brothers needed to do was tug on their sneakers, sling their backpacks over their shoulders and bound out the front door before their driver got impatient enough to sound his horn again. And thanks to the fact that Miles had had the foresight to tell his brothers to pack their bags the night before, the black station wagon parked in their neighbours' driveway remained silent. The same couldn't be said for the driver though, who was leaning against the car's open door, sporting a lazy grin, a pair of aviators and a vintage leather jacket. "That was fast," he noted with a chuckle.

“I’ve got them trained well,” Miles jokingly called back, letting Royce and Bentley run ahead as he locked up the house.

“Hey Butchy!” the boys chorused as they hopped the trench of flower beds that separated their house from the Bandonis'.

"Hey guys," he greeted with a warm smile. "You guys riding in the back again, or shall I shove Miles back there?"

"We'll take it," Royce chuckled as Bentley threw open the back door to the station wagon.

"I don't even think Miles would fit in here anyway," Bentley laughed as he wriggled into his usual spot.

"You sure you don't mind doing this?" Miles checked as he lumbered across the lawn to Butchy's car, still looking half-asleep. "I don't want to make you late."

"Oh come on, Miles. I've driven you guys to school for the past three years, you think I'm going to stop now just because I graduated?" Butchy replied with a reassuring grin. "And besides, you guys are my best passengers. You even beat Lela out here. At this rate, if anyone's gonna make me late, it'll be her," he continued as he leant on the horn again with a frustrated huff. "Lela, come on! How long does it take to find a damn jacket?"

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" his little sister trilled back as she hurried down the front steps of the house. Funnily enough, there was no jacket in sight - just a fuzzy sweater, pristine white sneakers, and shimmering eyeshadow and lip gloss: as bright and pink as the scrunchie holding up half of her hair.

"Where's the jacket?" Butchy asked incredulously.

"It didn't go with my outfit," Lela replied as though it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"You’re unbelievable," Butchy breathed with a lengthy roll of his eyes.

"Thanks," she cheekily beamed before opening the passenger door and poking her head into the car. "Hi boys!"

"Hi Lela," the three Murphy brothers chorused back with varying levels of enthusiasm.

Just as Butchy was about to join his little sister though, fondly shaking his head at his passengers' antics, a voice caught his attention.

"I don’t suppose you’ve got room for one more, do you?"

Glancing over his shoulder, he set eyes on a girl standing at the end of the driveway. Her shaggy, chestnut hair was blowing around her face thanks to the brisk, morning wind, and a pair of headphones hung around her neck, attached to the Walkman she had hooked into one of her belt loops. Her hands were shoved deep into the pockets of her baggy denim jacket, which hung open to reveal a ringer t-shirt emblazoned with a funky graphic of a beach skyline, and a pair of blue jeans with the cuffs rolled up. Her most prominent feature though was the mischievous smirk that stretched across her face and made her chocolate brown eyes twinkle.

"What are you doing here?" Butchy asked. His brows were furrowed in confusion, but he couldn't help the grin that jumped to his face as soon as he caught sight of her.

"My mom and dad had to leave early for work, so they told me to get the bus," Mick began with an affectionate eye roll at their expense as she made her way towards him. "But why would I wait around for that gym locker on wheels when I could come and wish you luck on your first day instead, Officer Bandoni?" she finished with a teasing grin as he looped his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss.

"You're the best," he smiled as they broke apart, chuckling at the choruses of: "Gross!" echoing from the back of the station wagon.

"So we can wait for you guys to make out, but we can’t wait for me to finish my Eggos?!" Bentley cried.

Fresh laughter rippled through the group as Butchy and Mick reluctantly broke apart and took up their positions in the car.

"Hey guys," Mick sing-songed as she slid into the seat beside Miles and listened to their mutual greetings. "Nice breakfast choice, Benny," she chuckled, acknowledging the half-eaten Eggo in his hand - i.e. the reason her make-out session was cut short.

"I know, right?!" he exclaimed, spraying crumbs all over his brothers. Clearly the fact that he was having to eat it in the car wasn’t affecting how much he was enjoying it.

"You look refreshed," she then teasingly added as she turned to the older boy beside her, whose head was resting against the window, eyes barely managing to stay open.

"Thanks for noticing," Miles sarcastically replied.

"That shift yesterday really took it out of you, huh?"

"I think I cleaned up enough vomit to fill a swimming pool," Miles huffed. "Whoever thought that cutting the birthday cake before those kids went skating needs locking up."

"I know someone who could get that arranged," Mick chuckled, flashing their driver another mischievous grin as he started the car and adjusted the stereo.

"Everyone ready to go?" Butchy checked with a quick glance over his shoulder. As the group nodded and droned their agreements, he revved his engine and pushed the cassette tape into its designated slot. The machine clicked and whirred for a few seconds before a familiar guitar riff blasted through the car's speakers.

"What's this?" Lela asked, scrunching her nose at the rock music as Butchy pulled out onto the road. "We normally just listen to the radio."

This time it was his turn for a smirk to tug at his lips as he lazily leant against the driver's window and shot his passengers a knowing look in his rearview mirror. "I just thought this was a little more appropriate for your first day back at school."

Lela, Royce and Bentley all looked as confused as each other, but Mick and Miles had shared an eye roll and a chuckle as soon as the song began to play. It wasn't until the chorus of AC/DC's 'Highway to Hell' started that the others eventually caught on - each sharing their own little teasing complaints to the driver once they noted the lyrics. All Butchy could say was that he didn't pity them one bit. As daunting as starting a new job was, nothing was worse than going back to school.

"Ah, yes, Bandoni. Here we go," a portly lady with large, tortoiseshell glasses and a garish blouse sighed. Rifling through a file of paperwork, the lady hummed and frowned until she pulled out a document folder, looking as though it only held a handful of papers. She licked the pad of her thumb and flicked through the pages, then let out another heavy sigh once she found what she'd been looking for. "Looks like you'll be in room six. I'll have to go and get the key for the filing cabinets from the office. Wait here."

She made no effort to display any sort of urgency as she rose from the desk, but the young man standing behind it was quick to stop her anyway.

"Hold on, I think there's been a mistake," Butchy began.

"Are you implying I can't read, son?" the woman drawled, sticking her hands on her hips and arching one of her eyebrows.

"No, no, of course not, ma'am. It's just, I was hired as a trainee police officer-"

"Exactly," she replied flatly as she waddled into the adjoining room and plucked a key off a hook on the wall. "A trainee, meaning you need to complete said 'training' before you can join the force."

"And the training involves sitting around in a room of filing cabinets all day?" Butchy queried.

"What? Did you think you'd be doing an assault course out in the parking lot?" she snorted as she slid a cardboard box off her desk and held it out to Butchy, practically dropping it into his outstretched arms. "Follow me," she continued as he stumbled to accommodate the unexpected extra weight.

"What's this?" he asked as he began to follow the lady down the corridor that stretched from the main office. Looking down into the cardboard box he saw page after page of typed text - some were squashed into folders, but most were just loose, and almost all of them were stamped with a red 'closed' label.

"Those are all the case notes from last month," the lady explained as she came to a stop outside a door with a golden '6' screwed to it. Her pursed magenta lips curled into a smirk as she opened the door and gestured to the row of filing cabinets that lined one of the walls. "And those are all the case notes from the last three years."

"The last three years?!" Butchy exclaimed before he could stop himself, swallowing thickly as he took in the sheer number of metal cases.

"Well, the three nearest the door are - one for each year," she clarified as Butchy took a step into the room. It was small by anyone's standards - even with just the two of them in there it felt a little claustrophobic. There was a desk facing one wall, which held a tiered letter tray, a stapler, and a pen pot, which was empty save for one, chewed pencil. A swivel chair, with a torn leather seat was pushed beneath it, and a mostly dead yucca plant stood lamely in the corner, cowering away from the shred of sunlight that seeped its way into the room through the thick foliage of the tree that took up the entirety of the view from the room's only window. Besides that, the only other things in the room were the filing cabinets pushed against the opposite wall, and the plain, silver clock that hung above them. Even the shabby, bald carpet looked as though it didn't want to be there judging by the fact it was ripped up in at least two corners. "Your job is to copy out all of the records from the last three years so that we can archive them."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, boy. Don't make me repeat myself," she grumbled with a disapproving frown as she bustled past him. "Now let me go and find Terry, he'll be able to set you up with a computer in here so that you can get started."

"With all due respect, ma'am, I don't think I can do this," Butchy began, hardly able to process what this lady was proposing. "I mean, I took this job because I wanted to work with people, because I wanted to make a difference - but mostly because I didn't want to get stuck working a dead-end desk job. And typing out copies of police records? Seriously? Aren't there secretaries to do that sort of thing?"

"Nope, just cocky new recruits," she said with a wicked chuckle. When Butchy's dismay showed no signs of dissipating though, she sighed and placed her hands on her hips again as she went on to explain: "It might not seem like it to you now, but this is an important job that needs to be done. The officers can't do it because they need to be ready in case a call comes in, and the girls in the office can't do it because the institute doesn't trust them with the documents. We had the old chief handling all this stuff before, but he retired for good back in '81 and it's just been building up ever since. You'll still get your hour of training every day at two o'clock, but until then, you're on record duty, I'm afraid."

Butchy was stunned into silence as she turned and disappeared down the hall, muttering to herself the whole way. This was beyond a joke. He couldn't really just be made to type out old paperwork all day, could he?

The sound of hearty laughter broke him out of his cloud of thoughts as he leaned out of the doorway, searching for its source. And when he caught sight of the real police officers strolling out of view, chortling into their steaming coffee mugs as their badges shone under the hideous fluorescent lighting, an angry lump caught at the base of his throat.

"Terry will be along in a couple of minutes with a computer for you to use," the lady's voice called out from behind him. "He'll give you a walkthrough of the software too if you need it," she added as she reached him. When she saw him longingly looking after the retreating police officers though, she sighed again - this time with a definite tinge of pity in her tone. "Everyone's got to climb their way up the ladder, kid. You can't just jump straight to the top, it doesn't work like that. And besides, if you plan on staying around here, you might want to get used to this whole 'sitting around doing nothing' feeling; if it's excitement you want then you're in the wrong place, pal. Hell, the wrong town. This is Hawkins, after all - we're as painfully mediocre as it gets," she said with a chuckle as she gave the young man's shoulder a squeeze and went on her way back to the front desk. "But I'm sure those case files will tell you that much."

With a defeated sigh, Butchy set the box of papers down on the scratched, wooden desk. This was not how his first day was supposed to go. He was supposed to be getting his uniform and getting assigned to a training officer - not sorting through almost half a decade's worth of paperwork. God, this was going to be such a boring story to recount to everyone later. He just hoped they were having a better time than he was - although at that moment, he felt as though it was impossible for them not to.

"I fucking hate this school," Miles growled as he launched his biology textbook into his locker and slammed it shut behind him.

"Yo, chill, dog. It's only 11am. You've gotta pace yourself, man," the guy beside him chuckled, sporting a dazed smile and forehead littered with acne scars.

"How do you expect me to 'chill', Ethan, when Mrs Galespi just set us an assignment worth twenty percent of our grade that's due next week?" Miles snapped. "I mean it's the first day back for christ's sake. Who the hell does she think she is? Does she not realise that some of us actually have lives outside of this place? Or does she genuinely think that I have nothing better to do with my time than read about the fucking life cycle of the American bulltoad?"

"I thought it was a bullfrog," Ethan countered as Miles let out a frustrated sigh.

"Whatever, man. The whole thing's a bull idea if you ask me," he huffed as he leant against his locker and let his head fall back against it in despair. "God, there's no way I'm going to be able to get it done in time. I might as well just go and ask for an extension now."

"Don't say that, man. We've got a whole week. How much can you even look up about bullfrogs anyway? They're green and slimy. Case closed. We'll get it done in no time."

"I'm working until ten every night, Ethan. Even if I knew every fact under the sun about bullfrogs, I'm not gonna be able to find the time to write a whole essay about them."

"Sure you will. The rink will be dead now that school's back in session. And no one ever comes in on a Wednesday anyway because that's half-price movie night. We're gonna have a bunch of down time, trust me. We can just work on it together - it'll be a breeze," Ethan said with a nonchalant confidence Miles could only dream of having.

"Oh yeah, and what happens when we turn in identical essays and she fails us both?" Miles smirked.

"Pfft, I don't know, man. I'll probably just do what I always do - we'll work on yours together to make sure it's good, then I'll smoke a few, see what I remember and write out my version the night before."

"Last time you did that you got a D minus."

"And a D minus is still a pass, my friend," Ethan fired back with a smug grin.

"I can't let you do that again, Ethan. It just feels like I'm taking credit for your work," Miles sighed.

"Are you kidding, Miles? I barely ever contribute when we work on projects together. I pretty much just show up for morale support," Ethan snorted.

"Yeah, well, with how my life's going at the moment, I need a lot of it," Miles chuckled as he shot the guy a grateful smile.

Ethan had been Miles' best friend for as long as he could remember. Sure, he had Mick, and Butchy, and Lela too, but they were practically family at this point - Ethan was more like the crazy stray dog that kept showing up on his doorstep, begging for food. He didn't look too dissimilar to a stray dog either, to be honest, with his lank, scraggly hair hanging down by his shoulders and the wild glint in his otherwise vacant, brown eyes. A black beanie tamed his frizzy mane of hair, but the rest of his wardrobe was so bright Miles couldn't usually bear to look at him before 10am. Today's outfit choice proved no different; his oversized, rainbow tie-dye t-shirt was partially hidden beneath a hideous, paisley overshirt that was, again, at least three sizes too big for him - and his self-patched, and dubiously stained, brown corduroys were an entire spectacle of their own. He looked as though he'd just woken up in a thrift store's dumpster - and if Ethan's unpredictable behaviour was anything to go by, Miles wouldn't have been surprised to find out that he had. The boy's eccentric style choices were enough reason in and of themselves to render him a social outcast, but he was loyal to a fault and had a heart of gold, so Miles was more than willing to put up with the constant stench of weed and dumb wisecracks for the sake of keeping him around, even if it did render the both of them painfully unpopular among their peers.

"What's this you need a lot of?" a voice sounded to his right. Turns out his locker neighbour needed to swap over their books at the same time he did. "I know school can be a drag, but I didn't think you'd be turning to drugs this early on in the semester. I thought you'd at least have made it to Wednesday."

"Glad to know you think so highly of me, Mick," Miles said with an affectionate roll of his eyes.

"Ayy, waddup, Mickey Mouse?" Ethan greeted with a sloth-like wave.

"That's still not gotten old for you yet, huh?" Mick chuckled with an affectionate eyeroll of her own.

"Nope. Never has. Never will. It's too damn clever."

"Not a phrase I'd often use to describe you, Ethan, but I'll let you have this one," Mick snarkily fired back, earning herself a laugh from Miles as she busied herself with sorting through the textbooks in her locker. "How have your mornings been then, boys?"

"Tight," came Ethan's optimistic response. Whilst Miles' "Shit," proved a little more accurate given their current workload dilemma.

"Hmm, sounds about right," Mick smirked.

"It's Mrs fucking Galespi. I can't stand that woman," Miles snapped as he ran a hand through his mop of tawny brown hair. "God, I can't wait to graduate."

"I'm with you on that one, buddy," Mick sighed as she crossed her arms across her chest and joined Miles by leaning against her locker. "At least you guys only have one more year left, I've got another two years of suffering to get through."

"I thought you loved school. Aren't you like top of all your classes?" Ethan asked.

"Sure, I can get good grades, but that doesn't mean I enjoy it - especially when I'm surrounded by total morons the whole time," Mick grumbled just as two sophomore boys tore through the halls, tossing a football to one another. Incidentally, it hit a junior girl square in the face and sent up a chorus of 'oooooh's from the teens huddled around them. "My point exactly."

"You guys are such buzzkills," Lela sighed as she popped up beside them with an armful of textbooks clutched to her chest and a beaming smile fixed on her face. "High school's a blast if you keep yourself busy enough. I've already signed up to like four new clubs just this morning!"

"Being busy is my problem, Lela. I don't need anything else on my plate," Miles sighed. "I barely even have time to go to my classes, let alone clubs."

"Speaking of classes, we'd better make tracks if we want to make it to Calc on time," Ethan piped up, making Miles groan in despair.

"Hey, it'll be June before you know it," Mick chuckled, attempting to reassure him with a gentle bump to the arm.

"It had better be," Miles huffed as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and offered his farewells to the two girls.

Begrudgingly, he trailed behind Ethan, weaving his way through the hallway traffic with a firm scowl scrunching up his features. As he lifted his gaze from the scuffed linoleum floor though, the sight of someone almost made him stop completely in his tracks. Fluffy, golden blonde curls tumbled from a high ponytail, held in place with a green scrunchie; a slouchy cream hoodie, decorated with their school logo and a loopy, embroidered version of her name, framed her freshly pressed cheerleading uniform; and a smattering of freckles dusted the bridge of her nose, drifted across her cheeks and floated up onto her forehead. Their blue eyes locked, and the radiant smile she shot him as they passed in the hall made it feel as though the bustling crowds around them were moving in slow motion. His breath hitched in his throat and his heart hammered in his chest as he tried to think of an appropriate way to react, but by the time he'd processed the gesture, she had disappeared from view, and Ethan was grabbing him by the arm to pull him in the opposite direction. Still, as fleeting as it was, that smile might have just been the best part of Miles' day - or at least a little pick-me-up that got him through until the final bell rang.

Whilst Lela babbled away to Mick about the student council, the marching band, and everything in between, the trio of cheerleaders Miles and Ethan had just passed, along with their complementary trio of football players, parked themselves by the cluster of lockers on the opposite wall. Shrieking, and undoubtedly fake, laughter erupted from the six seniors as the shortest boy of the group barked a jokey insult at a passing sophomore. He threw his head back to laugh along with the rest of his friends and banged his fist against a locker, causing the blushing girl to jump and scurry away, much to the entertainment of her peers.

Mick couldn't help but glare at them; she, and the majority of her classmates, had been on the receiving end of their teasing remarks more times than she cared to recall. And the thought of having to see their stupid, smug faces for another whole year made her blood boil. "God, I can't wait to get out of this stupid town," she huffed as Lela turned to her with a puzzled frown. "The sooner I get away from those pretentious idiots the better."

"Just ignore them, Mick. They're all bozos. I think they've run into each other so many times on the football field that their brains have stopped developing," Lela snorted.

"Oh yeah, and what's the cheerleaders' excuse?" Mick asked with a raised eyebrow, eyeing each of the girls in turn. One was using a compact mirror to reapply cherry red lip gloss to her vicious sneer (how it wasn't getting stuck to her glossy, auburn locks, Mick had no idea); another was idly twirling the end of one of her bottle blonde braids around her finger as she stared into space; and the final one was wearing a blissful grin as she leant against the tallest football player's chest, draping his arms over her shoulders like a muscley feather boa and squashing her fluffy, golden curls against his pecs.

"Nothing. I think they were just born total airheads," Lela said as she and Mick shared a giggle at the girls' expense.

"Hey ladies," a husky voice boomed. Their gazes snapped to the football player holding his latest plaything captive. His wheat blond hair was immaculately styled and his jawline looked as though it could slice through wood like butter. The hideous smirk curling at his lips was what made Mick's stomach turn most of all though. "Take a picture, it'll last longer."

Mick clenched her jaw as snickers rippled throughout his group of friends. "We've seen more than enough, thanks," she spat as she defensively crossed her arms over her chest and Lela let out a weary sigh beside her.

More 'oooooh's bubbled up from the crowd of jocks, and even some passers-by as a consequence of the remark, but before the six foot three bozo could respond, the blonde in his arms piped up with a lazy smirk. "Lighten up, Mick. He was only joking."

Her glare returned with a vengeance as her gaze fell to the blonde. "It's Makana," she corrected with bitter emphasis. "Only my friends get to call me Mick."

Carrie let out an incredulous scoff as she straightened up in the football player’s embrace and turned to properly face the brunette. "Are we not friends?" she asked with an expectant quirk of her perfectly plucked eyebrow as the teens behind her tried to muffle their giggles.

Mick's silence was deafening as she grabbed Lela by the wrist and furiously marched away, leaving the rest of the cheerleaders cackling and the jocks jeering at her expense.

"Looks like your little prom queen scheme isn't working, Carrie. The freaks still don't like you," Molly, the girl with the cherry lip gloss, snickered. "Guess I'm gonna win after all," she finished with a smirk as she snapped her compact shut.

"Would you chill out? She's got the whole year to campaign yet," Eric chuckled as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pulled her to his chest again, stopping her from staring after Mick in disbelief. "And besides, we don't need every loser in town to like us to get our crowns - just the majority."

"You should have just told her you'd forgotten how to pronounce her dumbass name," the short football player from before, teased. "I sure would have."

"Yeah, you seem to have a real problem with names, don't you, Adam? What was it you called Sarah last week again? Jennifer? Or was it Becky this time?" Carrie retorted, wiping the wicked smirk off the football player's face so that she could fix it on her own as the teens around her all broke out into jeering laughter once more. The look on the retreating brunette's face still plagued her mind though, and her words played on repeat in her head, despite her obnoxious friends' best attempts to drown them out.

"Why does she always act like such a bitch around her friends?" Mick growled once the jocks were out of earshot and Lela could finally fall back into stride beside her.

"They just act like idiots to try to impress each other, don't take it to heart," Lela tried.

"She's so fake, I hate her," Mick angrily huffed.

"Don't say that, just last week you were saying she was cool to work with. I thought you guys were getting kind of close."

"Well I thought we were too, but every time her stupid, popular friends show up she turns into a totally different person. And all of a sudden, I go from being in on the joke to being the butt of it."

"Don't let them get to you, Mick. They're not worth it. And if Carrie can't see that you're a better friend than all five of those numbskulls put together then it's her loss, okay?" Lela said with an optimistic smile Mick reluctantly returned.

"You are in far too good of a mood for the first day back at school," Mick fondly chuckled. "Any reason why?"

"I'm just excited about my new classes, that's all," Lela said as she dropped her gaze to the notebook in her hands. But Mick noticed the blush creeping onto her face anyway.

"Mhm. You sure it's got nothing to do with that senior boy you were crushing on all summer being your new locker neighbour?" Mick asked with a cheeky, knowing grin.

Lela's eyes went wide as she turned to Mick in a mixture of horror and amazement. The school bell ringing stopped her from attempting to argue the point though.

"Damn, saved by the bell," Mick laughed as a flustered Lela adjusted the books in her arms and desperately tried to hide her burning cheeks from the students bustling around her. "You'd better give me an update at lunch time."

"There's nothing to update you on!" Lela insisted. "He doesn't even know I exist."

"Not for long," Mick sing-songed as Lela rolled her eyes.

"I need to get to English lit," she sighed as they reached a hallway junction. "I'll see you later. Don't get into any more fights without me."

"I'll try my best," Mick chuckled with a fond roll of her eyes as she picked her headphones up from around her neck and slipped them over her ears. "Come on, Stevie, if anyone can drown out these idiots, you can," she mumbled to herself as she pressed play on her Walkman and trudged down the hall to her next class, finally letting a relaxed smile unfold on her face as Fleetwood Mac's 'The Chain' blared through the speakers. If nothing else, at least she had her music to keep her sane.

“Beemer!”

The blond eleven-year-old lifted his gaze from his tray of soggy fish sticks to meet one hidden behind a pair of round glasses. The girl’s hair was pulled into a messy, low ponytail and her arms were covered by a baggy, green and purple ¾ zip fleece that made her bright, likely brand new, blue sneakers pop against the tacky cafeteria linoleum.

“Hey Vivi!” Bentley greeted, before leaning forward and smirking once he noted the thirteen-year-old was not alone. “Hey Royce.”

“Hi Benny,” Royce sighed with an affectionate eye roll as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his burgundy hoodie.

“Hey guys,” Vivien added once she reached the lunch table and could address the rest of its occupants properly. “How’ve you found your first day?”

“Pretty good actually,” Bentley replied with an optimistic grin his brother was relieved to see.

“Yeah, we’ve got the same schedule for pretty much all our classes, so we’ve just been able to stick together like it’s elementary school all over again,” a girl with a curly blonde ponytail spilling out of the side of her head grinned.

“Only with bigger kids and meaner teachers,” a young boy with warm brown eyes hidden behind thick rimmed, square glasses interjected.

“Yeah, Miss Mills is a bitch,” the last member of the table, with warm, bronzed skin and tight, cropped curls, exclaimed. “No wonder she never got married.”

Vivien and Royce exchanged a look of amused disbelief at the sixth grader’s outburst but couldn’t help but chuckle as they shared their agreements about the grumpy world geography teacher.

As much as Royce cared for his little brother, he couldn’t help but feel jealous of Bentley’s tight-knit group of friends. Yes, he had Vivien, and she was worth all the friends in the world, but that was kind of it. Vivien had her other friends that she’d hang out with, and sure, Royce would tag along sometimes, but he never actually felt like he belonged there with them – he always just ended up feeling like a spare part, which wasn’t helped by his shyness and overall reluctance to contribute to group conversations. Whereas Bentley was a chatterbox by nature and had never struggled to communicate with his peers - instantly earning the approval of his classmates as soon as he walked into the room and offered them a smile. That kind of innocent confidence had meant Bentley could have chosen any of the kids in his grade to be his friends. But, in typical Bentley fashion, he followed his heart and landed at the table of misfits, who, back in the first grade, had been scribbling out crayon drawings of dinosaurs like their lives depended on it, or had been sitting with their noses buried in storybooks the other kids were too hyperactive to care about – qualities which, upon reflection, Bentley had probably gravitated towards because they reminded him of his brothers.

First, there had been Zack, who had outstretched a grubby hand, decorated with colourful marker smudges and the sticky residue from the box of raisins, to Bentley the second that he had tried to take a seat beside him. The pair had hit it off immediately thanks to Bentley’s inherent friendliness and Zack’s burning desire to impress someone new with his extensive knowledge of prehistoric carnivores. And to this day, Bentley still considered the self-admitted smartass his best friend – luckily, they’d progressed to having conversations about more than just theropods now though. August was a little more reluctant to befriend the newcomer, but he was always wary to open up to people – Bentley believed that was the boy’s older brother’s doing though; if Miles treated him the way he’d seen Eric treat Gus then he’d flinch at the first sign of danger too. August had been sitting on the same table as Zack back in first grade, but had been much more engrossed in the storybook in front of him than the dinosaur facts his classmate had been spewing into his ear. Bentley still remembered their teacher telling August to go and pick out a different book since the one he was reading was ‘too advanced’, mostly because when August had nearly started crying, Bentley was the first to stick up for him, earning him the first smile he’d seen August wear all morning. Well, and because Zack, as loyal to his new friend as he was now, had backed Bentley up without hesitation – and, even at six years old, had taken a leaf out of his older sister's book and had cussed the teacher out, earning him a spot by her desk for the duration of that day’s recess break. Still, the endeavour meant August could keep his beloved storybook, and had earned him two firm friends in the process. The three were inseparable. Well, until they arrived at school one day in the fourth grade and found a new girl sitting at their table…

A vibrant, flowery bandana was tied in a bow around her head, keeping her wavy, blonde hair from falling in her eyes, and a t-shirt decorated with butterflies peeked out from beneath her pair of teal overalls. With her tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration, the girl sat in Zack's favourite chair, surrounded by tangled strands of cotton in a rainbow of colours she was attempting to weave together.

"Hey, that's my seat!" Zack had exclaimed, marching over to the girl with a vengeful frown as soon as he set eyes on her.

"I don't see your name on it," the girl shot back without even looking up from what she was doing. "Go find another one."

"You go find another one! I always sit here," Zack protested.

"Too bad, finders’ keepers," she retorted with a smirk as she used a pair of safety scissors to cut the strands of cotton she'd been working with.

Before Zack could step in to retaliate, steam already pouring out of his ears, Bentley spoke up from beside him with a curious grin. "Hey, what are you making?"

Zack and August both looked at him in horror, absolutely floored that he was even speaking to her, let alone smiling at her. But Bentley didn't seem to care one bit, especially when he noted a hopeful glint flash in the girl's mossy, green eyes.

"Keychains," she replied simply, holding up the fruit of her labours to display to the three boys. Blue, purple, pink and green threads were interlocked in a funky, striped pattern which tapered down to a point, where four beads spelled out a name: Kona.

"Woah, neat!" Bentley exclaimed. "Did you seriously just make that?"

"Yeah, you want me to make you one?"

"Sure!" Bentley replied with an enthusiasm his friends were quick to try to shut down.

"Ew, no, you can't sit with a girl!" Zack cried, grabbing Bentley by the shoulders just before his butt could land on the seat.

"Why not?" a bewildered Bentley asked.

"It's gross! She's probably got cooties!"

"I can hear you, you know," Kona shot back with a scowl.

"See?! She's not even denying it!" Zack exclaimed with a terror Bentley found laughable.

"Let's just go find another table," August huffed. "I don't want some stupid girl ruining our plans."

"Stupid girl? You'd better not be talking about me, Brennan," Kona scoffed with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh yeah? So what if he is?" Zack jumped in, throwing a protective arm out in front of the other boy before he could speak up himself. If anyone was going to turn this into an argument, of course it would be Zack - his fuse was shorter than a matchstick, and his temper was just as flammable.

"Well, for one, I'm pretty sure I scored better than both of you on last week's spelling test - so if anyone around here is 'stupid', it's definitely not me," Kona retorted with a smug grin that only fuelled Zack's rage more.

"Yeah well, who the hell knows how to spell 'neighbour' anyway? 'I before E except after C' my ass," Zack fumed as Kona just rolled her eyes again.

"Look, if you guys don't want a keychain then you don't have to have one," she grumbled, beginning to throw all her coloured threads back into the small cardboard box she'd brought with her. "No one else does anyway," she added in a quieter, dejected tone that pulled Bentley's lips into a frown. "And here, have your dumb table back. I was only using it because that crack in the wood helped keep all my string together," she finished, angrily pushing her chair back and beginning to stand.

But Bentley stepped around his friends and caught her arm before she could leave. "Wait, I still want one."

"...Seriously?" Kona asked with a dubious raise of her eyebrow.

"Yeah, seriously?" Zack demanded, clearly for other reasons.

"Yeah, yours looks awesome!" Bentley grinned as he took a seat back at the table.

Kona cautiously sat down beside him and set her box of threads back down on the desk. "Okay…" she said slowly, trying to hide the hopeful, excited smile tugging at her lips. "Well, what colours do you want then?"

"Well, my favourite colour's yellow, so definitely yellow," Bentley began whilst his friends watched on in dismay. As Bentley rooted through the box of threads though, he found himself getting overwhelmed by the array of different shades. If only his box of coloured pencils at home was this varied. "Uh…how many others do I have to pick?"

"If you want it to look like mine then you're gonna have to pick four," Kona said with a shy giggle as she watched him expectantly.

"Okay…well, uh, what's your favourite colour?"

"Mine? Uh, blue."

"You can't like blue; that's a boy's colour," August interrupted as he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"So first you tell me I can’t sit here, and now you're telling me what colours I can and can't like? Is there anything I'm free to do?" Kona asked with an exasperated sigh.

"Yeah, leave," Zack barked.

"Chill out, guys, she can like whatever colour she wants," Bentley groaned at his friends' childish behaviour.

"Boys like blue and girls like pink, that's just facts," August said, clearly not ready to let the topic go.

"Well what's your favourite colour then?" Kona asked.

"Green."

"Not blue?" she challenged with a look that made August squirm under her gaze.

"...No," he admitted, bowing his head in embarrassment.

"Okay, well I guess it's not 'just facts' then, is it?" Kona fired back.

"What about you, Zack? What's your favourite colour?" Bentley then asked, turning to the boy sporting a firm frown.

"...Red," he reluctantly confessed. Bentley couldn't say that he was surprised; with how often Zack let his temper get the better of him, he must see a lot of it.

"Okay then, that settles it. Yellow, blue, green and red it is," Bentley said as he plucked the threads from the box and presented them to Kona with a smile. "One colour for each of us. Four strings for four friends."

At first the other three nine-year-olds seemed horrified at the idea of them all being friends, but once Bentley got Kona talking as she worked away on his keychain, and once Zack and August realised that Bentley wasn't going to let this go, they all sat around the cracked, wooden table and started to warm up to each other. And sure enough, by the time that the week was over, the four of them were as close as could be. They'd goof off in class, ride their bikes around neighbourhood forest trails every weekend, and they'd spend their recesses creating fantastical make-believe stories around the weirdest bugs they could find on the playground - all the while with multi-coloured, cotton keychains swinging from their backpacks - cotton keychains which would come to be some of their most prized possessions. After all, how many important things can an eleven-year-old own?

"Well, at least you guys are settling in okay," Vivien summed up after her and Royce's lengthy discussion about the school's various run-down facilities and grumpy staff members with the table of pre-teens. "If you guys need anything then you know where to find us."

"Wait, aren't you guys going to have lunch with us?" Bentley asked, surprised to see the pair turning to leave.

"With a bunch of sixth graders? No way; we can't have you little kids cramping our style," Vivien affectionately teased.

"Oh please, if anyone's cramping anyone's style, you're cramping ours," Zack fired back with a cheeky grin. "You guys are like major nerds."

"No we're not," Royce protested as his eyebrows knit together.

"Yeah, and that's a bold claim coming from you, buddy," Vivien chuckled. "I know for a fact you've got just as many comic books stuffed in your backpack as I do."

"Okay, one: comic books are cool as shit," Zack began, causing both Royce and Vivien to burst out laughing again. "And two: you guys are nerds because you treat the library like it's your second home."

"What's wrong with that?" Royce asked.

"Yeah, what's wrong with going to the library? We go there all the time," August hissed out of the corner of his mouth, nervously edging his ghost story book off the lunch table.

"There's nothing wrong with going to the library," Zack explained. "It's just weird how much time you guys spend there," he went on to tell the pair of eighth graders. "You go there like every day. It's like you've got nothing better to do."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," a sickeningly sweet voice snickered from behind them.

Royce and Vivien slowly turned around and each let out an irritated sigh when they found themselves face to face with a certain redhead they'd been avoiding all morning. Her lips were curled into a menacing smirk and a pink jacket with puffy sleeves she'd likely stolen from her older sister creased around the arms she had folded across her chest, emphasising that it was still too big for her to wear properly, not that the girl seemed to care.

"What do you want, Serena?" Royce huffed, digging his hands further into his hoodie's pockets as he scowled at her.

"Nothing, I just couldn't help but agree with the little pipsqueak over there," she said with a nod in Zack's direction, who all but erupted in response to being termed a 'little pipsqueak'. Thankfully, Kona was there to hold him back and calm him down. The last thing the new kids needed was to anger one of the popular girls; even they knew that was social suicide.

"Okay, well great, you've agreed with him, now leave us alone," Vivien snapped, evidently tired of the girl's persistent need to pick on her.

"Ouch, O'Brian. Did I touch a nerve or something?" Serena asked with mock dismay.

"No, I just can't believe you've got nothing better to do with your time than waste it talking to us," Vivien scoffed, squaring up to the redhead and folding her arms across her chest to match her stance.

"Are you kidding? I always make time to check in with you guys," Serena simpered as she squeezed Royce's arm in a way that should have been reassuring, if it weren't for her nails digging into his skin.

"I wish she wouldn't," Bentley mumbled to his friends at the table, who were all trying their best to keep out of the bigger kids' tense exchange.

"Since when?" Royce asked, shrugging off her grip.

"Oh come on, Roycey, don't act like we're not friends," Serena tittered.

"We're not," Vivien cut in with an annoyed glare. "You were just making fun of us a minute ago."

"Hmm, are you sure? That doesn't sound like something I'd do," Serena said with a false sweetness that made Vivien roll her eyes as the redhead pondered the notion.

"Look, can you just get whatever lame joke you're going to make over and done with?" Vivien huffed. "I'm bored."

"Lame? If anything around here is lame, O'Brian, it's you," Serena taunted.

"Come on, Serena, is that really necessary?" Royce sighed.

"You're siding with her, Roycey?" Serena asked with a horrified stare.

"Why would I ever side with you?" he shot back with an incredulous inflection that only angered the girl more.

Serena scoffed in disbelief and shook her head at the pair as she set her jaw with determination. "You're both as bad as each other," she sneered. "No wonder you spend so much time at the library, the only people you can get to like you are fictional."

"Is that the best insult you've got?" Vivien chuckled. "Because I'd take fictional people over real people any day."

"Oh you want insults, O'Brian?" Serena fumed, taking a step towards the brunette.

"No," Royce stepped in, sticking his arm out to keep the two girls separate. "Just drop it, Serena. You've made your point, now go."

"Oh I'm not done yet," she smirked. "In fact, I'm just getting started."

Royce and Vivien dared a glance at each other, both praying that they didn't look as nervous about the girl's statement as they felt. When their stony stares settled on Serena again though, the menacing twinkle in her eye made that nervousness turn to dread.

"This year's going to be a fun one, I can tell," she finished with what Royce could only describe as an evil grin. "Later losers!" she then trilled, tossing her hair over her shoulder and sauntering away without a care in the world.

"Where did she go on vacation over summer? Hell?" Vivien snorted to Royce as they watched the girl make her way back over to her gossipy entourage.

"You'd think she'd at least have come back with a tan," he quipped, glad to have Vivien there to lighten up the mood.

The grin they shared at the wannabe mean girl's expense made their chests bubble with warmth. And as sinister as Serena's warning had been, knowing that they would have each other to rely on if things went pear-shaped made her words feel much less threatening. As long as Royce had Vivien by his side, he felt like he could take on anything. Little did he know though, that would be put to the test as soon as the end of the school day...

"Mr Dunkley might as well have written that algebra question in morse code, I think it would have made just about as much sense as it did in English," Royce grumbled as he and Vivien made their way over to the long line of waiting school buses.

"You don't know morse code?" Vivien said. "Damn, I'm surprised; I thought you'd have been all over that."

"When would I have ever needed to learn morse code?" he chuckled.

"I don't know, I don't know what you get up to when I'm gone," Vivien laughed. "I'll have to teach you this weekend. We might need it at this rate if we want to make it through the school year in one piece now that Serena's got some crazy vendetta against us."

"I don't get why she can't just mind her own business," Royce muttered. "If we're such 'losers' then why does she care what we do?"

"Maybe she's got a crush on you," Vivien proposed with a teasing grin that only grew as Royce's eyes flew wide.

"You don't actually think that, do you?" he hissed as Vivien just chuckled and fondly rolled her eyes.

"Serena liking someone that isn't her own reflection? I think that's impossible," she said as Royce let out a relieved sigh and they both dissolved into childish giggles.

A grating, venomous voice was quick to slice through their easy-going laughter though. "You know, you two, you should really be more careful about what you say about your friends; you don't know who might be listening."

Royce and Vivien both stopped in their tracks. Their eyes darted to the side to meet each other's gaze before their bodies slowly turned to face Serena, no doubt looking far more sheepish than they wanted to. After all, if she felt she was entitled to be rude to them, they had every right to be rude back to her.

"Oh I'd never badmouth my friends," Vivien retaliated with a confidence Royce wished he shared. "But we're not friends, so I'm pretty sure I'm free to say whatever I want. Why? Hear something you didn't like?"

"Oh please, you think I'm bothered what a couple of nobodies think of me?" Serena scoffed. "Your opinions are just as worthless as you are, freaks. You're barely a step up from Zombie Boy Byers."

"Hey, leave Will out of this," Royce said, quickly jumping to the boy's defence. Sure, Royce and Vivien weren't particularly close with him, and they only shared a handful of classes, but he seemed nice enough - and he definitely didn't seem like he deserved all the ruthless name-calling he had to endure from his peers. He just seemed like a normal, quiet kid with a difficult past - a feeling Royce was all too familiar with. "He's been through enough already."

"Would you relax? Everyone calls him that, it's no big deal," Serena said with a bored eye roll.

"That doesn't make it okay," Vivien said.

"Yeah, just 'cause everyone else does it doesn't mean you should too," Royce agreed as he defensively crossed his arms across his chest. "He just got lost in the woods. I don't get why everyone's still so hung up on it. Can't you just let him move on?"

"He doesn't mind, it's just harmless fun. Right?" Serena cackled.

"I don't think anything you say can be classed as 'harmless' or 'fun', so no. But if that's what helps you sleep at night then, sure, knock yourself out," Royce huffed, starting to turn away from her.

But something about that comment made Serena's composure snap and fury flash before her eyes, making the outline of Royce in her vision buzz like television static. "You know, if you're so worried about what Zombie Boy thinks then you should go and ask him yourself," she snarled as she felt her heart start hammering in her chest and her grip on her self-control slipping further. "You never know, if he actually did come back from the dead, he might know a thing or two about your mom."

Royce's blood ran cold. Vivien's boiled beneath her skin. Serena's momentarily stood still as her eyes grew wide - it seemed as though even she couldn't believe that those words had just come out of her mouth.

Royce's eyes burned with angry tears that were threatening to spill down his cheeks as he just stared, open-mouthed, at Serena, trying to keep his breathing as steady as he could manage. Vivien was not so easily controlled though, protectively pushing Royce behind her as she marched the few paces separating her from the redhead and shoved her face so close to hers that Serena's breath started fogging up her glasses.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she hissed.

"I- I didn't mean it to come out like that," Serena stammered, left floundering without her false confidence keeping her afloat.

"Oh but you did mean to say it?" Vivien clarified.

"No, well,I- it was just, it was just supposed to be a joke," Serena tried, but the outraged scoff Vivien let out told her she wasn't buying that excuse.

"I don't see anyone laughing, Sullivan," Vivien spat.

"Come on, Roycey, you know I didn't really mean it to sound bad, right?" Serena said, daring a glance around Vivien. But the dejected, steely glare she was met with made her gulp as nervous tears began to prick her eyes.

"Don't call me that," Royce said quietly.

Unnerved, Serena stiffened, pulled her gaze from Royce back to Vivien and set her jaw as she straightened up and matched her scowl. "Look, I've said it was a joke. You two need to stop taking everything so personally. No wonder no one wants to be your friend."

"If all these 'friends' I'm missing out on act like you, then I'm glad I don't have any," said Vivien, feeling herself beginning to well and truly lose her temper with this girl.

"Oh yeah? Then why am I the most popular girl in school?"

"Because you're a stuck-up bitch who ruins the lives of anyone who tries to get in your way!" Yep. Temper = lost.

"You take that back now, O'Sullivan, or I swear to god-"

Serena's threat was cut short though when a blue BMW pulled into the bustling parking lot a few feet away from the trio and a girl with the same glossy, red hair stuck her head out of the back window. "Sis, do you want a ride home or not? We've been waiting for you for like five minutes over there."

"Just gimme a second, Molly," Serena called before grumbling something to herself and turning back to face her latest victims. "You two had better think very carefully about what you say next. One wrong word and you're outcasts until you graduate," she taunted.

"Are we outcasts or nobodies? Make up your damn mind," Vivien said with another eye roll that just wound Serena up more.

"You're finished," she replied with a wicked smirk. "Come tomorrow, everyone's going to see you for what you really are. So, O'Brian, you'd better keep your friends close while you still can. And tell Roycey he'd better grow a thicker skin if he wants to make it through the day without crying for his mommy."

Before Vivien could open her mouth to retaliate though, the driver of the blue BMW laid on their horn and shouted to the pair of girls through the open window. "Rena, four-eyes, wrap it up; I've got a shift that starts in ten minutes and I am not about to let two kindergarteners make me late for it," she said without even glancing in their direction - too busy adjusting her fluffy, golden curls in her rear-view mirror.

Serena just sighed as she fixed Royce and Vivien with one last glare before spitting her signature farewell in their direction, this time laced with significantly more venom than earlier in the day. "Later, losers." And with another toss of her fiery locks, she was gone, leaving Royce and Vivien still reeling from the whole encounter.

Vivien turned to check on Royce, but as soon as he felt her worried gaze settle on him he felt fresh, angry tears of despair welling in his eyes, so he hurriedly tried to hide his face by ploughing ahead onto the school bus behind them. It took mere seconds for Vivien to track him down and slide into the seat beside him, but coaxing his gaze away from the dusty, rain-weathered window took significantly longer.

"You can't let her get to you, Royce," she tried for the fourth time. "She has no idea what she's even talking about. She only said it to try to make you mad."

"Yeah, well, it worked," he eventually responded with a choked, self-pitying laugh.

"You've gotta just rise above it. I know it's not easy - believe me, I did a pretty terrible job of it there - but if you don't engage with her then she'll just get bored and move on to someone else."

"That's the problem though, Viv. That's the problem with all these bullies: they never stop. If they can't make one person's life miserable, they'll just turn around and do it for someone else. Why can't they just get like a normal hobby or something? Why is treating people like shit the only thing they seem to know how to do?" Royce fumed.

"Because they're just trying to make themselves feel less insecure. I'm not saying it's a good method, but you saw Serena when we caught her going too far - she looked like I could have shattered her with one shove," Vivien reasoned before adding with a disgruntled mumble. "I should have tested that theory while I had the chance."

"Oh yeah, then what's Carrie's excuse, huh? I doubt she was feeling insecure driving her friends around after school," Royce snapped. "She was just being a bitch and calling you names for fun."

"Oh come on, that was no big deal, Royce."

"No, it is a big deal, Viv. She barely even knows your name, she's like four years older than you, and she was just making fun of you right to your face…for literally no reason! How are you not mad about this?" he exclaimed.

"I just don't care," Vivien chuckled to Royce's amazement.

"How?"

"Why would I care about what she says about me? I barely even know who she is. I only got mad at Serena because she was targeting you. If she was saying that stuff about me, I'd have just ignored her. I don't care if you mess with me, but if you mess with the people I care about then you'd better watch out," she said with a devious twinkle in her eye that drew a smile to Royce's lips.

"...Thanks for sticking up for me, Viv."

"Any time," she said, matching his fond grin. "I might not be able to help you if you try to start anything with Carrie tonight though; I don't know if I'm much of a match for a senior."

"Don't worry, I'll stay as far away from her as possible," Royce said, chuckling at her teasing remark. "The last thing we need is for her to start hurling insults again."

"Hopefully she'll be too distracted to notice we're there if Miles keeps her busy," Vivien giggled. "Did he make any moves while I was gone?"

"No, he still just stares at her like a lovesick puppy," Royce said as he rolled his eyes. "God, I don't know what the hell he sees in her. She's like the total opposite of him."

"Hey, you heard what Mr Clarke said: 'opposite poles of a magnet attract'," Vivien said with a smirk that just made Royce frown.

"Yeah well they're not magnets, Viv. Miles is my brother and Carrie is the devil disguised as a disco ball."

"Maybe he's a magpie then," Vivien suggested with a chuckle as the engine of the school bus rumbled to life. "They're attracted to shiny things."

"That would explain why he's such a bird brain," Royce said, finally allowing himself to laugh along at the joke with her as the bus pulled out onto the road and all negative thoughts about mean girls and doomed relationships fell out of his head - drowned out by the girl sat in front of them blasting Into the Groove obnoxiously loudly on her Walkman. All that mattered now was that he had Vivien back at his side, and with that knowledge he could take on anything.

To be continued...

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