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unholyhelbig · 3 months

Note

i would love a one shot of nat interacting w ronnie! maybe r is caught up doing a job for nat and nat has to pick ronnie up from school and domesticity w r ensues?

Title: The Carpool Lane [an Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: You get caught up while running an errand for Natasha and aren't able to pick your daughter up from school. You ask Natasha to do it and she has to grapple with some big feelings.

[a/n: Hello! I promise you all that the last official chapter of the Oversight is going to be posted soon. It is a very heavy one so here is some fluff in the meantime! Also, I'm opening my requests again, so feel free to send some my way.]

Warnings: None that I can think of other than horrible grammar, but please let me know if I need to add any!

Check out the full Oversight universe

The air in the home office had become sticky and cloying. It often did when the sun decided to shine as strongly as it did. Natasha kept her books clean and clear of dust but often times there was only so much she could do. Large particles floated in the crossfire of a golden glow. It almost pained her to wrench the window open and disrupt the flow.

It was difficult for Natasha to keep focus when she could hear the sounds from outside and feel the soft breeze on her skin. She was often known for her dedication, for her focus and her ruthlessness. But on afternoons, she was stuck doing mountains of paperwork when she’d much rather be doing you.

Natasha often drifted into hazed memories of the whimpers that escaped you, your breathless swears interlaced with the intoxicating way you moaned her name. She liked teasing you until you begged for her, until you needed her more than you needed breath, until you arched your back and cried into the thousand thread count sheets.

Of course, her favorite thing was to bring you to the very edge with her just her delicate touch and her sultry words. You’d come undone underneath her, coated in sweat and ready to please as an orgasm rocked through- an annoying ringtone.

Natasha had shoved her phone into the bottom drawer of her desk to gain some focus. It clearly wasn’t working. Her nails scratched across the rich oak of the desks surface before she pawed around.

Yelena had set her ringtone to the loudest, most obnoxious blowhorn she could find. She claimed that Natasha was losing her touch and often couldn’t hear anything past her own thoughts. And so, what if that was the case? Natasha quite liked her thoughts lately.

“Romanoff,” She drawled, voice dripping with annoyance.

“Hi,”

It took one breathless word from you and everything else was forgotten. There was worry in that single syllable and it made Natasha’s world spin for only a second before she got her bearings. She could do this. She was in charge.

“Tell me where you are.”

“You know where I am, you sent me here yourself.” You chuckled in a low whisper. Natasha had sent you to collect rent from your usual charges. She knew your pattern and could hear the low hum of the row of washing machines behind you.

While she prided herself on her ability to train you into the perfect protector with a quick hand a vicious tongue, she wouldn’t dare change a thing about your soft spots. You had particular one for the family that rented the apartment above the Soapsuds laundry mat and ran it seamlessly.

It was nearly impossible for you to say no to the elderly woman that took up residence with her son. She’d make you tea and you’d indulge in cookies as she regaled you with her charming stories from the 40’s.

“She’s a trained killer, ma, she doesn’t have time for this!”

Natasha heard the son’s accented voice muffle it’s way through the phone. She scoffed, and switched her phone to her other ear. You must have put your palm over the receiver because you were garbled too.

“I absolutely have time for this Miss Vazquez.” You returned to your conversation, voice whispered once more. “I don’t have time for this, Nat. I don’t want to break her frail heart. Could you possibly… pick Ronnie up from school?”

Natasha had been rendered silent, which wasn’t a feat that was often achieved in a shocking manner. Usually, if a Romanoff was quiet, they were busy calculating and it was better to avoid the storm brewing behind their eyes. This wasn’t the same kind of soundlessness.

She had to pick her jaw off the floor. Veronica was your entire life, and though Natasha came in for a close second, you would do absolutely anything for that child. You’d walk through fire, and it was testament to your growing trust with Natasha, having her pick your daughter up from school.

“Nat, baby” your voice came through the phone “did I lose you? If it’s too much I can get Darcy to take a later lunch. It’s not a problem at all. I shouldn’t have asked, you’re a busy woman and-“

“I’d love to.”

“Huh?”

“I can pick her up, y/n, really.”

Her palms started to sweat, and Natasha never sweated. She stood up and started to pace the length of her office, entering and exiting the large stream of light that vented in through the window. She listened carefully as you told her word for word how to enter the car line, and what mothers to avoid entirely.

“I’ll call ahead, let them know you’re safe to pick up Ronnie. Thank you for doing this, Natty. I appreciate it.”

She smiled, biting her thumbnail. She stopped at the window and peered out at the newly installed swing set at the edge of the property. So many little things had changed in Natasha’s life over the last year. There were children’s books strewn over the tables and art supplies that Ronnie loved to draw with. This was an extra step. This was the extra step that made her fingers itch for the ring hidden in the false bottom of her desk.

“Darling! Would you like to hear about the night I had with Robert Kennedy?”

“I would love to, Miss Vazquez!” You called back, lowering your voice once more. “I love you, I’ll see you at home. Dinner is on me.”

You had hung up the phone a few moments ago but Natasha kept it against her face for a few moments as if it were an anchor. She had to pick up Ronnie. She had to pick up Ronnie. Natasha was on her feet now, searching the large living room and foyer, and even the nightstands by her bed before she grasped at her keys and sprinted out the door.

Veronia was a girl of very little words, but she was comfortable enough around Natasha to curl into her side during movie nights, little fist clenching onto the fabric of her shirt. Most of the time, she’d fall asleep before the end of the film and Natasha would stare affectionately as you scooped her up and took her to her room.

Now, Natasha sat in the parking lot of the school with blood rushing past her ears. Somehow, the gaggle of mothers that lingered by the release doors were scarier than anything she had ever faced before.

She’d been shot at least four times and had survived them all. She had pulled the trigger herself more times than she could count, but all of curious eyes landing on her sleek black car made her nearly sweat through her t-shirt.

Natasha stalled as long as she could before taking the tentative steps across the asphalt lot. There was a small patch of green grass that seemed to be overwatered if it still held its vibrant color during a late heated day.

Her sunglasses were down over her eyes and she feigned looking at her phone, though she eyed each and every parent that lingered. They were openly staring at her, and she heard a few hushed whispers, absolutely no attempt to muffle their judgements.

“Don’t pay them any mind.”

Natasha startled, not noticing the woman that had sidled up next to her. Her skin was pale, her hair a pitch-black color that must have heated her up on a day like this. She stuck her hand out and Natasha took it carefully, shaking it. “Jessica Jones.”

“Natasha Y/L/N,”

The woman was apprehensive to use her own last name. While she kept a mostly low profile, there were still some people who would clock the name as something familiar. The last thing she needed was someone targeting you, or God-forbid, Ronnie. The words fit perfectly into her mouth like a sweet candy.

“I’ve never seen you around here before, and apparently neither have the vultures with the way they’re circling.”

She couldn’t help but smile “I’m… new. My partner got a little tied up at work and asked me to pick up her daughter.”

“Ah, so you’re that Natasha.” She must have flushed awkwardly, nervously, because Jessica seemed to backtrack. “Nothing bad. There are moms like the women over there who put their entire being into making everything perfectly beige. Then there are moms like y/n and I. Imperfect.”

Natasha’s eyebrows lifted. Each woman that flocked towards the front of the glass doors, waiting excitedly for their children to spill out did have the same look about them. They all wore leggings and different colored pastel shirts. Each one had the same highlights and haircuts, and apprehensive stares.

“We’re out here a lot together, and it was pretty obvious when things started to change for her. With you around, the smile actually reaches her eyes you know?”

The statement warmed Natasha greatly and made the box in her desk weigh heavier on her mind. Of course, she didn’t want to think too much about it, but she also wanted to make sure that you were happy, something you reassured her of over and over again.

Natasha opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by the barrage of tiny feet on the sidewalks and grass. There was a sea of runny noses and crinkled papers slathered in different primary colors.

A small boy with dark ringlets of hair crashed into Jessica’s legs clumsily and she let out a large huff of air in response, scooping him up into her arms. He had the most startling blue eyes like his mother and gave Natasha a gap-toothed-goofy smile.

Natasha was searching the crowd for your daughter. It wasn’t like she would call out, that was much too vocal for her and Natasha didn’t blame the girl in the slightest. Through the sea of kids, her eyes locked on Ronnie’s and she gave her an encouraging smile and a small wave.

Veronica’s expression lit up as she dashed the few feet that was separating them. Natasha had the foresight to lean down enough to dampen the impact of her hug. It was quite the rare occasion to be embraced by her, so she savored the spring scent of her.

“Your mama got caught up at work and asked me to pick you up.” Natasha explained, leaning back on her heel, she brushed a strand of hair behind Ronnie’s ear. “What’s that?”

Natasha gently pointed to the picture that was in Veronica’s hand. Her chest welled with pride at the drawing and she would say that it was miles better than any other kid she saw run out with their artwork. Yelena had been right; Ronnie had a beautiful gift that Natasha would pour everything into for as long as she wanted to call it her craft.

This particular scene was a rendition of the large house, too big to fit within the confines of the paper. There was six figures that vaguely resembled each person Natasha knew and loved. A clear grouping had been established.

Kate was smeared in a purple color with dark locks of hair.

Yelena had been drawn next to her, hand and hand.

Clint stood close to them- but not too close- with his signature deep look.

What called to Natasha the most was how Ronnie had grouped her. There was a figure by the edge of the page that was clearly you, down to a tea, and a shorter figure right next to you that was unmistakably Ronnie. The two figures held hands; and on the other side, with her signature deep auburn hair and green eyes, stood Natasha. Her fingers were wrapped around Ronnie’s in the photo, too smudges of color that made the enforcers heart thrum harder than it ever had before.

“This is beautiful,” Natasha breathed, struggling not to let the water that built up in her eyes drip down her cheeks. That would be weird. It would freak Ronnie out. “I love it.”

“You do?” The girl asked.

“I do. In fact, it’s getting framed and hung up immediately.”

It was rare for Ronnie to speak, but it was a prize each time she did. Just like you, Natasha had begun to understand her body language and everything she said with her eyes. It was something she would grow out of, or maybe she would speak with just her art.

Either way, Natasha read her loud and clear.

It was well past ten pm by the time you had pulled yourself away from the laundry mat. You ended up eating dinner with the family despite your repeated refusal. It was some of the best food you have ever eaten and though you missed the quality time with Natasha, the vodka coating on the pasta would have you reeling for weeks.

The house was mostly dark by the time you returned, and you were careful when you let your keys drop into the dish by the door. A soft golden light streamed down the hallway, leading to the kitchen.

Natasha would often partake in a glass of red wine, a record playing softly in the background. It was her time to unwind, to do the dished from dinner and breathe out the stress of the day. Just like any office job. Sometimes she’d use the time to scrub away blood from under her nails as you waited patiently and took sparing sips from her glass despite denying wanting one of your own.

The sink wasn’t on, and the kitchen was mostly silent save for a faucet drip here and there. Natasha leaned against the counter and stared at the moonlit swing set in the yard. It was bathed in just enough pale light to make out the shapes drifting in the light breeze.

You came up behind her, snaking your arms around her waist and resting your head on her shoulder. She shivered against the coolness of your skin, but hugged you tight against her center with a comforting and raspy hum.

“Thank you for picking up Ronnie today,” you mumbled into the side of her neck, “And getting her to bed. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

Natasha turned in your arms and had a bit of a pout to her expression that you weren’t expecting. You lifted an inquisitive eyebrow at her. You wanted to kiss that frown right off her lips. You wanted to lull her into a state of content after the long day you’d had.

Almost timidly, she said “We’re a family. That’s what we do.”

God, how long you’d wanted to hear that. This time, you didn’t hesitate to close to the distance between you both. You kissed her softly; you kissed her with so much love that it left you dizzy.

You’d scared away partners before with the prospect of having a daughter. Most of the time, you wouldn’t’ even bring it up until a third date, when you were close to sure. But even then, you’d be left at the restaurant, or the bowling alley, or the movie theatre by yourself once the words left your mouth.

Nothing about your relationship with Natasha had been conventional, however, and each day she shocked you with her tenderness and care for someone she had no responsibility towards. Just letting you and Ronnie move in had been enough. Parenting her? Loving her? It felt beyond reality.

She chuckled into the kiss, running her fingers down your jaw. “I love you too, detka.”

“Mm, seriously, thank you.”

“Do you want to see something?”

You lifted your eyebrows suggestively and earned a light-hearted smack to the shoulder. She wormed her way out of your embrace and crossed the large kitchen to the fridge. When you’d first moved in, it was blank. There was a single wedding invitation tacked up with a magnet for joining the Murdock and Natchios families in matrimony, but even that had been years old.

Now there was something new.

Something that had unmistakably been crafted by Ronnie. The photo was a beautiful mix of colors and mediums and at the very corner in, in blue crayon, were two words; My Family.

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#Natasha Romanoff #natasha romanov #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanov x reader #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Marvel Reader Insert #Clint Barton #Kate Bishop #Yelena Belova #Katelena #yelena x kate #Black Widow #Marvel #Hawkeye #Request #mafia au

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fafnir19 · 13 days

Text

Contagious fuckboy charm

Under the vibrant sunlight of Hamburg, the street cafe buzzed with life. Leonhard parked his old bike, clad in his trusty yellow safety vest, displaying his dedication to safety.

Sandrina, elegant in her classic attire, exuded confidence with her long blond hair catching the light. "Hey, Lenny! You made it!" Sandrina beamed, sliding into the chair opposite him.

Leonhard chuckled, "Wouldn't miss our coffee catch-up, Sandrina." They shared a laugh, their banter flowing easily like a familiar tune. Leonhard's eyes wandered to a trendy bar across the street, where stylish men with goatees paraded. "Look at those fuckboys strutting around," Leonhard teased. Sandrina joined in, "They're multiplying like rabbits. Let's hope it's not contagious." Leonhard chuckled, "Hopefully the fuckboy epidemic won't spread here."

As the hours unfolded, their playful ribbing continued, the easy camaraderie between them palpable. But as Sandrina's phone pinged with a work email, she sighed reluctantly. "I hate to cut this short, but duty calls. See you soon, Leonhard," Sandrina said, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before hurrying off. Leonhard watched her go, a fond smile tugging at his lips before turning his attention back to his coffee. Left alone, Leonhard awaited the bill, musing over the eccentricities of the day. Suddenly, a cocky guy swaggered over from the bar across the street, introducing himself as Ronny. "Hey there, buddy!" Ronny boomed, extending a hand towards Leonhard. "I gotta say, you've got yourself a hot girlfriend there. Lucky you!" Ronny remarked, eyeing Sandrina's retreating form. Leonhard raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the unexpected compliment and shook his head with a chuckle. "Oh, Sandrina? She's just a friend, actually." Ronny's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Just a friend? No way, man. A nerd like you must be getting some action on the side, right?"

Leonhard's patience wavered as Ronny continued with his condescending remarks. "We're really just friends, Ronny. Nothing more." A smirk played on Ronny's lips as he leaned in closer. "Come on, buddy. Friendship between a man and a woman? That's a load of crap. You're probably just too shy to seal the deal!” Leonhard clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. The nerve of this guy. How could he be so ignorant? Leonhard felt a mix of frustration and embarrassment bubble inside him. He searched for a way to gracefully end this absurd conversation, his thoughts racing as he battled to maintain his composure. Before Leonhard could muster a response, Ronny's tone shifted dramatically. "I know what you need, pal. You need to get laid, and I'm just the guy to help you out!" With a sudden exclamation of "No homo!" Ronny leaned in and pressed his lips forcefully against Leonhard's, his beard scratching against Leonhard's skin. A surge of energy surged through Leonhard, electrifying his senses and setting his skin ablaze with a tingling sensation. It felt like a storm of sensations, a clash of conflicting desires waging war within his very being. His heartbeat quickened, each pulse a drumbeat of transformation reverberating throughout his body. He felt his vest melting away, replaced by a sleek race-cycling outfit that hugged his newfound athletic physique. His old bike transformed into a sleek racing machine, the embodiment of speed and adrenaline. Suddenly, a surge of heat erupted from deep within Leonhard, a primal force awakening with a raw intensity he had never experienced before. A wave of desire crashed over him, engulfing his senses in a whirlpool of lust and longing. His body responded, betraying him with a throbbing ache that pulsed with a need he couldn't deny. A tingling sensation spread through his body as a goatee sprouted on his face, mirroring Ronny's signature style.

Leonhard sat there, dazed and bewildered, as the truth dawned upon him like a blazing sunrise. He stood up in disbelief, now resembling the very image of a stereotypical fuckboy. He had been reborn, no longer the nerdy Leonhard but a transformed entity – Lenny, the fuckboy extraordinaire. His mind reeled, consumed by a singular desire. "I have to... I have to get laid," he muttered, his thoughts clouded by newfound impulses. As he bid farewell to Ronny, who now called him "Lenny," Leonhard embarked on a journey of self-discovery and newfound confidence.

The nerdy Leonhard was no more, replaced by the embodiment of a true fuckboy. The streets of Hamburg whispered tales of a transformation unlike any other, as Lenny set his sights on a new goal: seducing the irresistible Sandrina.

#male tf #male transformation #personality change #musclegrowth #fuckboy tf #fuckboys

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lowkeyrobin · 3 months

Text

MCYT ; songs from the 60s-90s they remind me of

includes ; tommyinnit, badlinu, tubbo, ranboo, billzo, aimsey, quackity, slimecicle, nihachu, and jack manifold

warnings ; none

lmk if I should remove Jack, Billzo & Aimsey bc ik they don't like x readers/fanfiction but this is just some random blurb idrk

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

kiss from a rose ; seal

rooms on fire ; stevie nicks

just like heaven ; the cure

call me ; blondie

heroes ; david bowie

you make loving fun ; fleetwood mac

the boys of summer ; don henley

someday ; sugar ray

land of confusion ; genesis

renegade ; styx

linger ; the cranberries

TUBBO

dreams ; fleetwood mac

silver springs ; fleetwood mac

all the small things ; blink-182

jessies girl ; rick springfield

edge of seventeen ; stevie nicks

don't look back in anger ; oasis

bye bye love ; the cars

shout ; tears for fears

starman ; david bowie

sunday ; the cranberries

RANBOO

queer ; garbage

only happy when it rains ; garbage

celebrity skin ; hole

dedicated to the one i love ; the mamas & the papas

take me home tonight ; eddie money & ronnie spector

cruel summer ; bananarama

stranger in my own house ; foreigner

we are not alone ; karla devito

looks that kill ; motley crue

don't you (forget about me) ; simple minds

rhiannon ; fleetwood mac

tainted love ; soft cell

FREDDIE BADLINU

every little thing she does is magic ; the police

all the small things ; blink-182

atomic ; blondie

take on me ; a-ha

another brick in the wall, pt2 ; pink floyd

californiacation ; red hot chili peppers

girls on film ; duran duran

head over heels ; tears for fears

nobodys daughter ; hole

everybody here wants you ; jeff buckley

the boys are back in town ; thin lizzy

BILLZO

just like heaven ; the cure

the perfect girl ; the cure

stupid girl ; garbage

godzilla ; blue oyster cult

the struggle within ; metallica

all apologies ; nirvana

something in the way ; nirvana

nothing else matters ; metallica

shout at the devil ; motley crue

fight for your right ; beastie boys

the stroke ; billy squier

AIMSEY

i just shot john lennon - paris demo ; the cranberries

stars ; the cranberries

monday morning ; fleetwood mac

cherry bomb ; the runaways

every rose has its thorn ; poison

barracuda ; heart

vienna ; billy joel

fade into you ; mazzy star

go your own way (cover) ; the cranberries

only happy when it rains - early demo mix ; garbage

QUACKITY

dreaming my dreams ; the cranberries

linger ; the cranberries

about a girl ; nirvana

brass monkey ; beastie boys

are you gonna be my girl ; jet

the boys of summer ; don henley

something in the way ; nirvana

atomic ; blondie

heart of glass ; blondie

the chain ; fleetwood mac

NIKI NIHACHU

queer ; garbage

stupid girl ; garbage

malibu ; hole

(don't fear) the reaper ; blue oyster cult

friday im in love ; the cure

all i think about now ; pixies

bye bye love ; the cars

after the glitter fades ; stevie nicks

rooms on fire ; stevie nicks

jessies girl ; rick springfield

stars ; the cranberries

JACK MANIFOLD

that's all ; genesis

land of confusion ; genesis

call me ; blondie

uptown girl ; billy joel

bust a move ; young mc

sunglasses at night ; corey hart

i still believe ; tim cappello

sabotage ; beastie boys

don't you (forget about me) ; simple minds

don't bring me down ; electric light orchestra

aliens exist ; blink-182 (memeulous watchers get this one)

CHARLIE SLIMECICLE

fox on the run ; sweet

call me ; blondie

semi-charmed life ; third eye blind

pink cadillac ; natalie cole

take me home tonight ; eddie money & ronnie spector

shadow dancing ; andy gibb

i love rock n roll ; joan jett & the blackhearts

the boys are back in town ; thin lizzy

gloria ; them & van morrison

every little thing she does is magic ; the police

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt preferences #mcyt x reader #tommyinnit x reader #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt oneshot #quackity x reader #ranboo x reader #badlinu x reader #nihachu x reader #foolish gamers x reader #charlie slimecicle x reader #aimsey #billzo #music recs #music recommendation #jack manifold

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aconflagrationofmyown · 11 months

Text

but then…Gigi

a future forward one shot, circa 1979

Snuggle me Tender

Trust me I laughed and cringed every bit as hard as you over that title but after the strain of pushing this mushiness out of my brain in under twelve hours I haven’t got any sensible titles left in me, ok?

Requested: Yes / No

Warnings: next to none? complete fluff and no rancidity for once, just Big Daddy Elvis with a very young baby and a very young wife and tour life and mentions of his health concerns…so much baby talk which I do not apologize for, if you’ve never done it I suggest you do, it adds years to your life. To quote Alex Turner: “I’ve been feelin’ foolish, you should try it.”

Word count: 2,884 is my version of a blurb, ok?

Notes: this is dedicated to my baby Bri whose devastating prompts lead to this whole Gigi endeavor and whose sweetness lightens up my life

Blaring horns end the set with its iconic flourish, their brassy notes echoing in his ears as he exits. It was a good show, a lively audience and Ronnie kept the rhythm together this time and even the sound system was decent for such a packed out stadium. Elvis is satisfied as he takes his final farewell of the sea of glossy, enamored faces, the frenzied send off of their ovation thudding into his veins so thickly he thinks his pulse will jump straight outta his wrists.

He flicks his writs irritably and hooks his thumbs into his belt, hoisting it just that little bit from where his exertions made it creep down and down and ever down, keeping it where it’s not pinching him as he lets the boys hustle him off the stage and into the back hallways in a well worn maneuver. The clapping and roar of the crowd is still deafening and he’s still attuned to it, vibrating like a leaf and the shake, rattle and roll of it pounds along with his chest and more worrisome still is the way his vision flickers with it, like some damn techno scene. But it’s just the fluorescents, and this interminable hallway leading to his dressing room.

And to his girls.

He takes a deep breath and tries to begin the effort of steadying himself just a little before foisting himself on them. It’s easier, so much easier, with them here, but his blood pressure still skyrockets each time he performs and it doesn’t seem like there’s a pill or a regimen out there to prevent it. It might be the death of him one day and awhile back he might have flippantly hoped so.

Now he’s got his girls to live for

and he tries his hardest to moderate himself, to temper himself in between to be the man he wants so badly to learn he is, not just the icon he’s perceived to be. Every step takes him closer to the anecdote and he breathes easier, hiking his belt higher so he can really gulp in those belly expanding breaths and he feels Charlie patting his back, his boys murmuring in an affirmative babble that it was a good show.

Elvis knows it was. He doesn’t need them to tell him. There’s only one persons opinion he gives a shit about right now and she’s probably conked out asleep or at the tit. Both of which sound like damn good options to mimic, in Elvis’ opinion.

Little Miss Erin Love Presley.

She’s become his life and between her and Gigi and Yissa he is bombarded with the insistence that he is wanted to the point that he’s gradually had to assume that, well…that he is -wanted, that is.

He’s wanted. Not just needed.

And so he allows them to fret over his pulse and he agrees to less stimulants when possible and he endeavors to be a more cheerful bastard despite the persistent urge to bite heads off most days.

Ricky jogs ahead of him, opens the door that Sam’s been standing in front of and ushers Elvis inside hurriedly before closing the door behind him, leaving him alone with his little family. Nearly blinded by the change in lighting, Elvis staggers towards where he knows there's a couch in the gloomy dressing room Gigi so considerately dimmed for his sake.

“You were magnificent, daddy!” her soft praise registers more profoundly than all the applause out there and Elvis sinks into the couch utterly spent, yet entirely satisfied.

“Thanks darlin’.” He murmurs with his head tilted back, winded and a thousand miles away but he’s trying to come back down. His hand reaches out for her hip and the give of her soft flesh tethers him to earth.

Gigi doesn’t skip a beat before she’s bending down and unclamping the large buckle from his belly single-handedly with practiced ease, delighting in the relieved groan Elvis lets out as she removes the heavy ornament. She swings it away from him only to replace it with the soft weight of their baby girl.

“I’ll get your medicines, you hold tight.” Gigi soothes, her hand lovingly pushing his hair back from off his damp forehead before she bends to kiss it and he chases her wearily for a taste of her lips which she presses to his ardently before pulling away to go find his pills.

Baby girl is perched on his belly in her tiny sequined onesie, balancing like a Pilates teacher on a ball, her wobbly little neck doing its utmost to stay straight and fix him with her appealing stare. It’s devastatingly effective when paired with her pitifully frustrated little squeaks.

Elvis knows what Lovey wants and a few months ago he might’ve been appalled at the notion of it despite being an utter sap for his daughter. It had seemed too gross to subject her to the post-show sweat and musk that cling to him in moments like these. But like her mommy, the little girl wouldn’t take less than the deepest of intimacies and so he has learned that Lovey will continue her fussing until she feels the warmth of his skin beneath her.

The tiny wrist golden chain around her wrist jangles as she tries to pull herself up the ornate expanse of his jumpsuit front, clawing determinedly up the exquisite sundial motif towards the heaving expanse of his sweaty chest. ‘Return if found’ her bracelet reads and Elvis smirks at the notion of her being put down long enough by either of her parents to be misplaced.

“Hey cuddle bug, hey how’s it goin’, hmm?” he coos to her and finds his voice is fried and gravelly.

Without having to even reach he finds Gigi pressing a plastic cup into his hand that he ravenously accepts along with blood pressure regulators she presses into his palm, small and round and white. He throws them back with exhausted gusto and his baby nearly wobbles backwards in her arc to follow his movements with her big ole baby head.

They made a pretty baby, he and Gigi, how could they not? -but even the prettiest of babies have bowling balls for heads compared to the rest of their body and it still tickles Elvis immensely. He wheezes a laugh into the last of the water while catching her head with his other hand and crushes the cup with something bordering a burp and a groan.

Lovey’s bright little eyes expand just a fraction more at the vibrations against her belly. “ ‘scuse me, miss.” he teases, eyes still wavering blearily as he tries to focus on Gigi rummaging for something at the far end of the dim room. The water makes him feel at least partially alive again and he runs his hand beneath his nose to catch the sweat and what all that is collecting atop his lip.

Heaving in a big breath he feels his hands calm their shakes enough he looks down at Lovey’s valiant attempts to reach the apex of his unzipped suit, clammy baby hands snagging the hair on his belly and tugging. He’s gonna have bald patches down there at this rate, he’s told Gigi this and she just lathers more hippy oil on him and says he’ll be alright -so he guesses he will be.

“Look at you baby, so strong, yes you is, fightin’ gravity like a champ, got yo’self halfway up the sun, yes you has. Want daddy to help ya? Hmm? Yeah? You want a kiss, don’t ya? Me too, I want kisses from my bestest girl.”

He hooks his thumbs beneath the giving flesh of Lovey’s armpits and pulls the floppy length of her higher till she’s balanced on his broad chest, in between his gaping jumpsuit front, watching as she crows and grins the minute she feels his tacky skin beneath her palms. The swell of his belly keeps her high up and her little elbows dig into his soft chest, it’s a well worn ritual to spend her “belly time” on his chest, fascinated by her daddy’s face. It holds her interest more than any gaudy toy or tv show ever could.

Elvis pats her bottom gently with his ringed hand, careful not to pinch her delicate thighs as Lovey kicks and shudders in delight at getting her way. She’s a little masochist, his baby, she drools and coos even as she grips significant portions of his chest hair and tugs in glee as if it’s her own personal shag carpeting to aid her towards scooting up that last little bit needed for her to kiss him on the chin.

“Das it, das it almost there, gonna give daddy a kissy? Gonna gimme kissies? I wan’ ‘em so bad, yes I do!” Elvis pickers his lips and she strains every ounce of her little self to grab ahold of his sideburns. It’s all over then, Lovey is triumphant in her grip, a pack of wild horses can’t tear anythin’ that baby has once she’s grabbed ahold of it. With a gurgly little crow she scoots herself up till she’s able to devour his chin.

She’s quite coordinated when preening her angelic little face up to receive a kiss but upon dishing them out she goes about it like a starved man would a set of pork ribs, open mouthed and with the goal to slobber as much as possible on the recipient. Elvis can’t bear to turn her away ever and in his after-show state of permanent dampness he doesn’t even think twice as a sloppy, gummy and fervent baby adds to the sweat rolling down his throat.

“Fank you.” he murmurs, tilting his head to facilitate her attack, “Fank you so much, ooh, I love your kisses, ya know that? Favorite kisses in the world, yes ‘dey are! Better than any of those out there, Mhmm, way better. Yes, yes better gimmer another -aww thank ya!”

Gigi watches from the side as she finishes her breast pumping by the dimmed vanity as Elvis puckers his cherub lips and pecks at their baby’s matching glossy pink pair. In this moment with their bobbing heads and tender coos and the nearly identical soft forms of them both slouching in their matching jumpsuits -they could be twins. The thought makes her smile and right in this moment there’s a belonging she feels so strongly and richly that her eyes burn with it.

“I thought it went pretty well, mhmm, what’d ya think about the new song, hmm?” he always does this, consults Lovey’s side-of-stage perspective on his show and he swears to Gigi that her feedback is essential for the success of what has been a certainly well received comeback tour. “Yeah I thought so too, ‘could tinker with those background vocals but the bass was tight. Yeah, yeah man, I know, I told ‘em, but they don’t listen, no dey don’t! I know! I know I told ‘em! Can ya believe that, Lovey? Oh well.”

With each of his heavy breaths and remonstrances Elvis’ chest heaves and sends Lovey tilting further and further up to his face till she’s careening alarmingly into the crease of his neck, wedged between it and the couch back. The tip of her tiny body makes Elvis die laughing with a fit of those genuine, hiccuping laughs that their baby loves to mimic until they both end up dry coughing from their mirthful wheezes. He gets them both situated again, Lovey firmly back on the safe expanse of his tacky chest with his hands criss crossed over her tiny back. One of his hands can span the entire width of her little ribcage and folded over each other as his hands are now, they looks like a bejeweled turtle shell sheltering their Lovey’s delicate back.

Gigi packs up her kit and rummages through her sack for Elvis’ glasses before they’re needed for the camera-flash-lit trek back to the hotel.

Lovey lets out a vigorous yawn, suddenly utterly tuckered out from watching her daddy perform and waiting up to kiss him backstage. It catches Elvis’ attention and yet again he’s amazed by the fact he feels even remotely weary himself, like he’s able to tap into his girl’s calmer systems and regulate his own just a little to match them. Not so much a family as a trinity of souls so intertwined they’ve long since lost where one ends and the other begins.

“You sleepy, hmm?” Elvis hums to her and strokes over her head soothingly, “How bout we go back to that nice hotel then, we can eat somethin’ and yer mommy’ll call up Yissa to say goodnight. How’s that sound, hmm?”

Lovey rubs her face into his chest to emphasize how much she needs this sleep plan to be enacted speedily, the tired rub backfiring as his chest hairs tickle her sensitive little nose. Without fail it makes her sneeze violently and afterwards she’ll gaze up him dazedly as if asking for explanation as to her own bodily functions.

“Hutchooo, bwess you.” he thumbs at her sloberdy chin. “Dat was a big one, wasn’t it? Mhmm, daddy’s sorry he’s so fuzzy. Don’t got that problem when ya snugglin’ wif mommy, do ya? Nu-uh, smooth as marble, that pretty girl, ain’t she? Mhmm.” he ponders Gigi’s loveliness with a dreamy look of appreciation and his baby resignedly lays her head in the sweaty thatch of chest hair, wadding it away from her face with a tiny fist, Elvis stares over her head at Gigi who he knows has been playing at being busy to let him wind down.

They share a knowing little smile and Gigi shoves off from her perch on the vanity and clip clops over to him in her strappy heels, bending at the waist and offering him a lovely view down the neck of her dress as she gently fits his tinted glasses on his face. “There, all set.” she murmurs fondly while fiddling with his hair, dabbing at the mess of sweat and drool that the now sleeping baby has left in her wake.

Ricky cracks open the heavy metal door with great care but it’s not enough care to please Elvis who barks

“Gently, for God’s sake, there’s a baby sleepin’ in here!”

and Gigi smirks as she herself gets manhandled by her new husband to sit beside his bulky manspread, for no other reason perhaps than to keep her ass pointed away from Ricky. Gigi suspects that Elvis likes to bark at his traumatized entourage just because he enjoys getting to cite the baby’s needs. He has a baby again, and it’s turned him into more of a bear than a man on this tour. That thought makes Gigi sigh dreamily and she lays her head on Elvis’ shoulder and watches as Lovey’s sleeping breaths stay even and calm despite his outburst, utterly secure in her daddy’s love.

Gigi gets her thigh patted in recognition and she shudders as always from that promising touch, feeling how torn he is between winding down or thrumming off into the astral sphere. Only once they’re in the hotel and snug in the white sheets with Yissa on the phone will she know which way the night will go.

“Car’s all set.” Jerry quietly delivers the message that Ricky fled before he could finish delivering.

“Thanks man.” Elvis nods and after exchanging a look with Gigi asks her, “Ya ready, baby girl?”

“Yes.” she nods and gives him her arm as an aid to heft himself out of his burrow in the couch, his one arm still occupied cradling Lovey to his chest.

Gigi helps him drape his coat around his shoulders, flapping around him like one of his capes, allowing him to pull it over Lovey’s face in the ensuing glare of the photographer’s flashes as they speed down the hallways and into the parking lot, hand in hand.

Lovey is used to the racket, the screams and the pounding of an audience a natural backtrack to her young life. Nevertheless, Elvis moves gingerly, stays calculated in his movements lest he jostle her as he follows Gigi into the car, scooting into his seat as methodically as possible, his exhausted thighs quivering from this last ounce of endurance demanded of them. He succeeds though, Lovey still snoozing and drooling onto his chest by the time the Limo door shuts and they’re off in a streak of light and motion against the night sky.

He can feel Gigi slip her smaller hand into his own on the seat between them, tugging until he surfaces from his trance and turns his face towards her with a relieved sigh to find her always there beside him when he needs it.

“You alright, daddy?” she checks in with him and he watches as her features, so lovingly crafted by a generous God to make her appear young enough to be his baby much less have one herself, are gently lit by the occasional street lamp glowing into their speeding haven.

“Yeah darlin.” Elvis rumbles from deep in his chest, rubbing the back of his knuckles against her soft cheek, watching as Gigi leans into his affections as eagerly as that first night they met, “Never been better. I mean it, gonna need to make this the order of business. You and Lovey waitin’ for me, end of show -I could go on forever like this.”

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cellythefloshie · 4 months

Text

;; Mama Bear Dedicated to myself. Because this has been my passion project.

Summary: With her son Parker set to skate in his first NHL game with the Boston Bruins, Katherine Stacy travels to Boston. When her plans are derailed by her ex-husband, Katherine is forced to spend a night on the town alone where she meets Jeremy who is more than willing to show her a good time. Kinks & Tropes: Age Gap (22 v. 40). Divorcee. Alcohol Consumption. One Night Stand. Oral Sex - Fem Receiving. Mirror Reflection. Protected Sex. - If I missed something, yell at me. ABOUT THE OC’s: Katherine: AKA Katie. Face Claim: Bryce Dallas Howard. 40's. Mother of Parker Waylon-Stacy. Parker: Face Claim: N/A. Boston Bruin's Rookie. Dorthey: AKA Dottie. Face Claim: Kate Hudson. Best friend of Katherine. Word Count: 12k+

A/N: Would you believe me if I said that this fic was 4 months in the making? @hagelpoint-3821 and @hockeyboysimagines -- I do not know how you have put up with me teasing this fic for so long. This fic is one that ignited a fire of excitement in me, and to be able to share that excitement with the two of you is something I will always appreciate. You both know that this fic could have easily become a full length novel - and I did have to cut back on this things to assure I could get this out before the new year. I won't have to but you guys with persistent updates about the progress anymore! Thank you so much for your ongoing support and encouragement. With that said, this fic is not going to appeal to everyone. It is unlike anything I have written before, and is unlike anything I have seen in this community before. So please consider liking and relogging if you enjoy, and if doesn't end up being your cup of tea - thank you for giving it a shot. And please note that I did not do a full edit of this fic. I will be editing any mistakes I see upon rereads. I hope you all enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.

As a woman traveling alone, there was one thing Katherine Stacy made sure to do: she created a detailed itinerary. Everything from her flights to hotel check-in times and the sights she was planning to see in the great city of Boston were listed in detail on two neatly organized pages. And she made sure to print 3 copies. One for herself, that she carried in her black Kate Spade purse. One for her ex-husband, Ronnie, who was meant to join her on her trip. And the last, for her best friend, Dottie, who remained back home in Toronto - but was the one person she knew she could count on if something did not go according to plan.

Which was why, as Katie called her from her dimly lit hotel room in the middle of the day - when she was supposed to be touring the Museum of Fine Arts - Dottie answered with such urgency you would have thought her home was on fire. Her mass of blonde curls was the first thing you could see when she answered the video call. They fell into her face that was too close to the screen, her words rushed so close together they slurred into one. “What’sgoingon?Whyisitsodark?Thisisnottheartmuseum.”

Katie propped her phone up against her suitcase, the camera obstructed by the bag’s handle as she rushed to get one of the lights, a string of apologies leaving her lips. When she returned to the end of her bed, she fixed the camera just right before her hands dipped into her bag and she continued to unpack her belongings and store them away in the hotel room’s dresser. It was only then, with her hands busy and a heavy breath rocking her shoulders, that Katie told Dottie why she was calling.

“He brought her.”

That was all Dottie needed to hear for her eyes to be sent wide in disbelief, “He. Did. Not.” Dottie was always nothing short of eccentric and supportive, but that support only had grown stronger since Katie’s divorce. And since Ronnie started dating again.

Not even a year into their separation before their divorce was finalized, he had started dating Monica. A beautiful, blonde, twenty-something, esthetician from Etoboike who had weaseled her way into the Waylon family before Katie could even realize what was happening. Which included joining Ronnie on their trip to Boston. Which was supposed to be just the two of them. One where they were coming together as parents to celebrate the success of their son, Parker Waylon-Stacy, who was set to play his first game in the NHL the next evening.

Worst of all, he hadn’t told her she was coming. Monica had been a nasty surprise when she met him at The Westland for lunch. Katie knew the young woman could see the shock all over her face when she spotted her, and while her attendance was an unpleasant surprise, she had tried to be civil. Yet, Katie could only tolerate so much.

So she canceled their dinner reservations at the Citizen Public House & Oyster Bar and did not make her planned trip to the art museum. Instead, she had taken a taxi back to the Courtyard by Marriott where she was staying for her short visit in Boston. What she was going to do now, she didn’t know, but Katie knew she needed to call Dottie.

“I knew you should have just come with me Dot-”

Dottie cut in, her words strained by her frustration. “I would have ripped his testicles off with my bare hands-”

“Dot!”

“What?” Dottie was taken back, her brows furrowed.

“He’s allowed to be dating, we aren’t married.” She and Ronnie hadn’t been together since their son had turned sixteen. That was almost two years ago now, and Katie didn’t miss a single minute of being married to him. She never would.

“But this trip was supposed to be a family trip,” Dottie reminded, her hand coming up to run over her face with a sigh, “for Parker.”

“Well,” Katie chewed at the inside of her cheek, her hand coming up to push her long red hair back out of her face, “he’s marrying her.”

All Katie could hear was a long, low growl of a no, the video call going dark as Dottie either dropped the phone face down onto a surface or accidentally turned her camera off at the shock of the news. When the sight of her returned, her hand was over her mouth, and her eyes were wide.

“You should have seen her ring,” Katie told her, her hands wringing the fabric of one of her blouses in her hands like a wet rag, “it was, wow.”

The band was gold, and the diamond was big. Bigger than what she had on her engagement ring and wedding band combined. It was so big it was almost gaudy and hard to miss. It was eye-catching with every single one of Monica’s movements, and all Katie could think of at the sight of it was: Does Parker know?

It was a question that haunted her as she put down her blouse, pulled her pajamas from the bottom of her bag, and began to undress with little care that Dottie was still on the other end of the call. They had been friends since middle school. There was little Dottie hadn’t seen or didn’t know.

“Whoa, whoa,” Dottie spoke, the shock fading at the sight of Katie stripping out of her jeans, “what are you doing?”

Katie stepped out of her jeans, leaving them in a heap on the floor as she held her satin bottoms in her hand, “Turning in?”

“NO, you aren’t going to let that selfish prick ruin this trip for you,” Dottie spoke in a firm tone, her finger pointing right into the lens of her camera.

“What am I supposed to do, Dottie?” Katie sighed, throwing up her hands in defeat and accidentally throwing her pajamas across the room, “I’m just going to order room service and watch some paper view-”

“No, no. You’re going to go out and enjoy yourself.”

A sigh rocked through Katie’s entire body, her hand falling into her hands as she fought back a frustrated sob. She’s a divorced mother in a city she doesn’t know. Her son was off with his teammates doing god knows what on a team-building outing. Her ex-husband was off celebrating his engagement. And she was alone.

Hot tears pricked at green eyes in the shadow of her hands, but Katie didn’t let them fall. Deep, heavy breaths from years of hiding her frustrations with her husband kept them at bay, but Dottie noticed. She always noticed.

Which was why her voice had softened when she spoke again, “Show me what’s in your suitcase?”

“My suitcase?” Katie croaked out, her hands coming down to rest against the pale freckles skin of her thighs.

“Yes, your suitcase.”

Stepping forward, Katie took her phone in her hold and flipped her camera around for Dottie to see. The suitcase was mostly empty now, save for the jacket she had packed at the bottom. The rest of her clothes she had tucked away in the dresser drawers. She had packed just enough clothes to last the three-day trip. Her main outfit was a pair of jeans, boots, and a t-shirt she planned to wear under a jersey to the hockey game the following night. Everything else was meant to be worn during sightseeing, or on the flight home. And every bit of it was practical.

“No, no, love. Why do you do this to yourself?” Dottie sighed, her shoulder slouching forward. Dottie, herself, was a bit of a fashionista. She always wore the latest trends and was always seen in the brightest colors. Because, well, Dottie liked to be seen. “Where is the sext shit we bought last time we went out?”

“Back home?” Katie spoke in more of a question, her brow raising as if where it was wasn’t already obvious. “I wasn’t coming out here intending to seduce my ex-husband, Dot.”

“You’re in Boston, Katie! A city full of eligible bachelors you can forget about the moment you fly home.”

“Dot-”

“When was the last time you got laid, Katie?”

Her stomach sunk, her mouth going dry at the question. Dottie already knew the answer to that question, but she was trying to use it to motivate her now, even if Katie hated it when she did that.

“You would have heard about it if it happened.”

“You’ve been divorced for over a year, Katie - separated for two. It’s time to ditch the vibrator.”

Katie let out a long, frustrated huff, fighting the urge to toss her phone onto the pillow. She knew exactly where this was going. “I’m not using that stupid dating app-”

Tinder. Bumble. Plenty of Fish. Hinge. If it was a dating app, she was on it, and failing miserably at it. Dottie’s daughter, Megan, had set her up with the accounts. Helped her pick every flattering picture and even wrote her biography to cater to the current dating scene. And it had only led her to two types of people, men just like her husband who were divorced and looking for their next way to mother them, or were young men - too young for her to comfortably consider - with mommy issues. And both had gifted her far too many unsolicited pictures of their cocks.

Just the thought of opening the app made her want to gag.

“Then don’t,” Dottie spoke, her tone assuring and not forceful. “Just do this one thing for yourself. Go buy a nice dress and a pair of underwear that haven’t seen postpartum. Something sexy. Something to make you feel confident, and go out to dinner. Take yourself out. Hell, even if it’s just the hotel bar. Get a drink and try to have a little fun. For me.”

Dottie dipped her chin down and pouted her lips. Growing up, it was always how Dottie had gotten her way, and sometimes it still worked. Just like it had then.

“Fine.”

“Good, now, I gotta go,” she spoke, and her screen was suddenly a rush of color as she was on the move, “The twins have a game tonight.”

Dottie was a mother of three. Megan, 18, the same as Parker, was off at university, but the twins were only 12. And had a very extensive hockey schedule to maintain, which kept Dottie’s schedule busy and her hands full.

“Alright, alright, I won’t keep you,” Katie waved her hand at the phone casually, “Tell Brandon and Brayden Auntie Katie is cheering for them-”

“Don’t think this gets you off the hook,” Dottie added quickly, “I want a selfie of you looking sexy at the bar. Love you. Kisses!”

Shopping alone was something Katie loathed. Nothing ever fit her proportions right, especially after the rollercoaster that was going from a size 2 to pregnant to struggling with her weight postpartum, to a grueling weight loss journey that brought her to a weight that she could be both healthy and happy with. But Katie wasn’t skin and bones. She was soft and curvy with an ass that was maybe a little bigger than she would like, and breasts that didn’t match the fashion industries’ standards of what her body was supposed to look like. It was that fact that left her rotating out of each boutique's change room, trying on one dress and then the next before she found one dress that fit her body just enough for her to confidently make the purchase.

It was a little black dress that stopped just below the knee. It was sleeveless, and the deep vee neckline showed off her cleavage with a little help from some strategically placed fashion tape. The dress hugged her curves without restricting her stride and left her feeling sexy as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and took her time to do her hair and makeup for her night on the town.

Aka. Her night at the hotel bar.

It was only a short walk from the elevator to the bar's entrance. The dark bar filled with the warm amber glow of the lights that hung above each table, and along the high traffic points of the bar. Normally, she wouldn’t consider going to a place like this. Katie liked to be able to see what she was eating and drinking. But tonight she was desperate. Desperate and alone with no thought in her mind that the latter would change. Besides, she just needed to be there long enough to take a few pictures and leave without an empty stomach. With those two facts in mind, Katie walked into the bar with the confidence only a mother could have and seated herself down the bar.

It’s the most lit area of the establishment, her seat was right beside one of the beautiful bronze light fixtures. It set her face aglow, her bright red lipstick and dark mascara framed eyes illuminated so fully she feared she might look like a clown, but she tried not to focus on the insecurities of dining out alone. Instead, Katie pulled out her phone and texted a quick picture of herself to Dottie. She looked a little more anxious than sexy, but it proved she was out. Then, she took a picture of the light fixture before placing her phone screen down on the bar top and welcomed a menu as it was placed in front of her.

The barkeep was nice, and if she was younger she might have mistaken his kindness for flirtation. But Katie knew better. It was his job to be friendly. Good service meant better tips, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t need the confidence boost. It, at the very least, left her smiling as she looked over her menu and ordered a drink to start: a Negroni Sbagliato.

It would be the first of two during her meal. The first left her more comfortable being out in Boston alone. The second gave her the confidence to lift her phone from the bartop. Her fingers hovered over the darkened screen before she awakened its brightness with the single click of the home button. Her eyes had to squint at the harshness of its light, her eyes having adjusted to the bar’s moody atmosphere before she could be greeted with the series of notifications from Dottie.

She was at her son’s hockey game, but she had taken the time to respond to the photo with a series of flame emojis. Quick, but effective support that had Katie’s finger leaning towards the Tinder app that she had tucked on her last page of applications.

The screen came to life with an even harsher light, leaving Katie to flinch in her seat as she tried to hide her screen beneath her arm. At her age, there was nothing more embarrassing, in her mind, than being on a dating app. She looked down at the first profile carefully as she brought her phone down to her lap, her thumb swiping left on the first eligible bachelor who didn’t look all that eligible when she was sure the woman in the picture was his wife, and not his sister or a friend. Then the second, third, and fourth men in her radius were all at the bottom of her age range and looked all too young.

In her position, Katie knew she shouldn’t be so picky. She was in Boston for only a few days. Alone for one night. If anyone wanted to meet her for a drink, or at the very least provided a pleasant series of text messages before ghosting her when she found out she was a mother, she would be able to label the night as a success.

With each passing profile, Katie fell further into defeat and accepted that she would be enjoying her night alone. And she accepted that as she sipped at what was her second drink, only for it to gently choke at her throat at a soft, unfamiliar voice spoken at her side.

“I’d swipe right on you.”

The words sent a blossom of heat through Katie from her heart to her cheeks and the tips of her toes. Unsolicited, they should have flooded her with dread. But they were flirtatious and left her giddy before she could even offer the man more than a glance. It had been a long time since someone hit on her at a bar, and it left her sitting taller in her seat. Confident.

That was until she looked right, and to the man who had greeted her with his flirtatious words. Her stomach was left unsettled. He wasn’t ugly. Far from it with his tall, lean stature, chestnut brown hair, and eyes a warm brown hue that could so easily tempt her into comfort if she let them. But he was young. Younger than anything in her age range on any of the dating apps on her phone. He looked older than her son, but she may have mistaken them for the same age if it wasn’t for the beginnings of a beard along the angles of his jawline.

As quickly as her stomach fluttered with butterflies, she was flooded with disappointment. She wouldn’t even entertain a man as young as he was. But Katie was too polite.

“That’s very flattering,” there was a hint of a smile in her voice as she looked down at the bartop to hide the blush that still threatened to creep up on her cheeks. “But I’m pretty sure I’m old enough to be your mother.”

The statement seemed to amuse him, his smile growing as he stepped up to sit on the barstool next to her. He, whoever he was, was getting too comfortable. It left Katie shifting in her seat, suddenly all too aware of how her heels hooked on her stool and how her thighs pressed together uncomfortably as her ass was cradled by her seat.

“I don’t believe it,” he wore a boyish grin as he turned his body just enough to give her all of his attention, “You here, looking like that…”

Katie could feel his eyes drag up and down the length of his body, admiring her figure and how it looked in her little black dress.

“Being anyone’s mother would be a shock to me,” he finished his train of thought, his words still on the verge of flirtation.

Katie wanted to accept it. To feel flattered by his interest however great or mild it may be. But there was an anxiety that bubbled deep in her stomach. One that left her paranoid that this could be a joke. Shifting in her seat, Katie did a glance around the bar. Looking from table to table she looked for anyone that the man beside her could be associated with. But the bar was quiet. There was a table with what looked like a bridal party that would be pregaming before hitting the town. Then, there was a table of old-timers who may have been regulars or retirees visiting the city. Neither were crowds he would be a part of. That was unless he was homosexual. But, if he were, he wouldn’t be seated beside her at the bar, hitting on her.

“You’re too kind,” she spoke slowly, trying to be polite.

“What can I say, my mama raised me right,” he smiled a boyish grin, “which is why I’d like to buy you a drink.”

Katie’s heart fluttered in her chest at the offer, her head cocking to the side as she spoke; “You don’t have to.”

“I insist.”

Katie had to give him one thing, he was confident. She could see it in how his dark eyes didn’t tear away from her, and how his shoulders remained strong instead of slouching with each of her flattered but deflective responses. He could have taken her brief remarks as being disinterested - which in a way she was disinterested if only because of his apparent age - yet, he persisted.

Reaching up with his hand, the mystery Bostonian flagged down the bartender and met him with a smile. He ordered himself a drink, before nodding towards Katie and requesting another for her as well. Then, he offered him his credit card. Katie’s eyes lingered on the piece of plastic as it was passed from one man to the other. It was just a typical credit card. Nothing fancy that would indicate that he was a man with exceptionally deep pockets, and her stomach filled with dread as she realized that she had probably let some poor college student pay for her drink.

It left her mouth tasting sour as her third drink of the evening was placed in front of her. So sour, that she almost rejected it. But it was already paid for, so she accepted it and decided that if he ordered a second for himself, she would pay for it.

“Thanks,” she spoke across the short distance between them, her body turning to be a little more open to a conversation.

Talking to him was the least that she could do.

“What brings you to Boston…” he started, his words trailing off. He wasn’t done with his question, yet, he was asking her for something already.

Blankly, Katie stared at him, unsure of what exactly he was fishing for until it hit her. He wanted to know her name. She could feel her face go red with the realization, and redder when she hesitated when she almost said her full name, Katherine.

Katherine felt old. Stale. Everything she was trying to avoid being, so she gave him her nickname instead, “Katie.”

“What brings you to Boston, Katie?”

“Visiting family,” she kept her answer brief without the messy details. And without the mention of having a son that she was sure was only a few years younger than him. “What about you…”

“Jeremy,” he was quicker to answer, his hand reaching out halfway. She smiled at the gesture, reaching out and meeting his hand with hers in a simple handshake before she withdrew to wrap her fist around her glass.

“What brings you to Boston, Jeremy?”

“Nothing too exciting, just work.”

Just work. Such a simple answer. Straightforward. No details. And she could have asked for more, but he met her level of secrecy - of mystery - all the while making his intentions known. He didn’t need to disclose his life to her, or her to him, because he couldn’t care less if he was just looking for a woman to take back to his room. But before she could confirm her theory to be true, he pressed her for more.

“If you’re here to visit with family, why are you alone?”

Katie wasn’t sure what she heard in Jeremy’s voice when he asked that question. If it was merely curiosity or pity, she hadn’t known him long enough to know. But it left her smile wavering as she answered him, “Busy schedules,” she shrugged her shoulders to give off a feeling of carelessness even though it was still bothering her, “I’ll see them all in the morning.”

“How early?”

If she had been taking a sip of her drink, Katie would have choked again. “You aren’t very discreet.”

“I can’t afford to be. A beautiful woman like yourself, you could fly off tomorrow and I’d never see you again. At least I can know I took my shot.”

Katie cocked her hair to the side, her bright auburn hair cascading down between her shoulders as her eyes looked at Jeremy in disbelief. He was the very definition of a golden retriever. Happy, waiting with the greatest anticipation that if he was a dog, his tail would be wagging. And he was waiting for her to throw her a bone.

Biting her lip, Katie placed her drink down on the bartop and her gaze followed after. She shouldn’t have been considering it. Yet there she was, her hands came to rest around her phone and gripped it tight as one thought was clear in her mind. She needed to call Dottie.

“Can you excuse me for just a moment?” she asked slowly.

Jeremy answered with a curt nod, his smile unwavering as he watched her with his wide brown eyes.

With his permission, Katie couldn’t get out of her chair fast enough. She slid from the stool, and her heels slipping on the hardwood. It left her unsteady for a moment, her hand reaching out to catch herself on the bar, but before she could reach the polished wood a pair of large, warm hands had wrapped around her waist.

The heat of his touch blossomed through Katie’s belly, sending her breath to hitch in the depths of her throat. She wanted nothing more but to hide her surely reddened face in her hands with embarrassment. She wanted to curse herself for her clumsiness, but she was frozen in his hold as he breathed out a whisper she could barely hear but could feel against her cheek; “Don’t worry. I got you.”

His touch.

His words.

It was almost enough to make her shudder. But with one shallow, forced breath Katie found her composure and gave his arm a careful squeeze and a thank you that he might not have been able to hear. Then, she was drying back, her steps quick as she moved for the privacy of the woman’s washroom. It was there she was able to pull out her phone and call Dottie. But Jeremy’s touch was not forgotten, it’s warmth remained deep in her belly, lingering.

“Where’s the fire?” There was an alertness in Dottie’s voice, nothing but the peaks of her face visible on the screen as she lay in the dark. Katie could only see more of her tired features as Dottie squinted and brought the phone closer to her face. “Wait,” her tone was one of disbelief, “are you still out?”

“Yeah,” Katie’s voice was uneven as she reached a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear, “and I think I have a problem.”

“If it’s your card, I told you so. I knew you should have called the bank before you went-”

Shaking her head, Katie cut her off, “No, no, there’s a guy?”

Dottie perked up, any sign of sleepiness void from her face in an instant. “A guy? What are you calling me for? Take him to bed!”

Her excitement was contagious, not even the complaints from Dottie’s tired husband who lay beside her in bed could spoil the mood. Katie wanted to be able to revert back to her younger self. To squeal with excitement over a man. A man who thought she was sexy - who wanted to sleep with her with no strings attached. But it wasn’t that simple.

“It’s just that,” Katie chewed her lip, a heavy sigh rocking her shoulders, “he’s young.”

“How young is young?” Dottie asked slowly, and cautiously as they waded into dangerous territories together.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, “they didn’t card him. Maybe, twenty-five. No more than thirty.”

“Shit,” Dottie cursed, the single word drawn out and earning another grunt of disapproval from her husband, “he cute?”

“Very.”

“Well, I mean… Thirty isn’t too bad.”

“That’s IF he’s thirty, Dot,” she emphasized, her eyes wide as she dropped her voice lower at the sound of someone entering the washroom.

“What’s the worst-case scenario?” Dottie asked.

Katie thought for a moment, her teeth chewing her lip as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. As a woman, there were many horrible scenarios a woman could end up in when dating. Ending up dead was the worst of the worst, but she didn’t take it to that extreme. “Worst case? He’s a twenty-one-year-old fuckboy like the ones we warned Megan about before she went off to college. And I end up with the clap.”

Dottie’s laugh was lost on the flush of the toilet in the stall next to Katie, and the rush of the sink as the stranger in the bathroom washed their hands. It was a mess of noise, but Katie could still make out Dottie’s next question, “Best case?”

Katie hesitated as she threw her head back to rest against the stall. She was embarrassed by the answer.

Dottie answered for her, “Best case you get laid for the first time in what is it? Two years?”

Hearing it outloud sent her stomach sinking? Had it really been that long?

Katie cursed under her breath, her head hanging low. When had she let her life get so pathetic? For years, her life had one priority, raising her son. And she had done a good job, he was successful, about to play in his first NHL game after starting his season with the Bruins’ AHL affiliate. But she never really moved on from her divorce, and from being a mom. Her ex-husband was engaged, and ready to start a new family. But she hadn’t even fucked someone anyone since her divorce. Even then, she and her husband hadn’t even shared a bed before their divorce. She couldn’t even recall the last time they slept together, even if she wanted to.

From her throat erupted a long, unsatisfied groan. Her mind quickly fell on a decision that she may come to regret.

“Dot,” she sighed, “is it fucked up if I take him back to my room?”

Silence hung between the two of them for a moment. Dottie processed the decision, and Katie waited anxiously for her friend to tell her if she was making the wrong decision.

“Teach the kid a thing or two,” Dottie spoke, the playful nature of her words lifting a weight of insecurity from her shoulders.

“Dottie, thank you,” she spoke quickly, one hand going to the lock on the door while the other ended the call.

With the decision made, with a little help from her friend, all Katie could do now was hope that Jeremy had waited for her at the bar. If he hadn’t she couldn’t blame him for leaving. Maybe she was older than she looked from a distance. Or he had just come to the bar to kill time before a night out in Boston, and she was merely the entertainment. She couldn’t let herself get too hung up on him if he were gone, but thankfully, she didn’t have too. Jeremy remained at the bar. Standing instead of propped up on his stool, his hand slipping something into his back pocket on her approach.

And Katie, she didn’t waste any time being coy. “I don’t have reservations until 11.”

The smile that was beginning to feel like a welcome constant on Jeremy’s features grew at her words. Katie wasn’t sure if it was the question he was expecting, but it was clear that it was the one that he was hoping for and it flooded her stomach with butterflies.

She was going to do it.

She was going to take this attractive young man back to her room.

“Let me just pay my tab,” Katie told him, her hands already on her purse to dig out her credit card. She merely pressed her jump against the thin, cold plastic card when the bartender threw his towel over his shoulder and raised his hand to reject her payment. He didn’t want it. Katie’s brow furrowed, then it hit her. It had already been paid for.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she was quick to quip. Katie knew she should have been thanking him, but she couldn’t help but feel a little insulted. She was a grown woman. Successful in her own right. She was more than capable of paying for her own meal.

“It’s nothing, really,” Jeremy shrugged it off, his arm sliding behind her to rest on her back so effortlessly it was as if they had come to the bar together.

“Let me pay you back,” Katie insisted, earning the gentle pressure of his hand against the small of her back as he began to lead her out to the lobby. She almost scoffed. As if he knew where her room was - because she wasn’t going back to his. If this was going to happen, it needed to happen on her terms. That also meant, shoving her hand into her wallet and shoving a fist full of American money in his direction.

Jeremy continued to refuse, his one hand reaching out to guide her hand back towards her open wallet. “And why would I do that?”

“Because I’m more than capable of paying for my own dinner-” She voiced, ready to fight him on it further, but his answer stopped her in place.

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.”

Katie stood in the middle of the hotel lobby, her head slightly cocked to the side as she slid out of Jeremy’s reach. He only took a few strides before looking back at her with such warmth in her eyes she thought she might melt. Jeremy was sweet. Too sweet. Acting in every way he had wanted her husband to when they were married, and he was just a young man. It was a cruel thing in a way. For the universe to taunt her with him, but she would let herself enjoy him, if only for the night.

“Come on, I’m up on the fourth floor,” as she spoke, Katie’s words softened. She wouldn’t be fighting him about her bill again. If he wanted to be a gentleman, she was going to let him.

They boarded the elevator together, Katie drawing her key card and moving to the right, and Jeremy boarding and leaning against the far left wall. Scanning her card, the elevator doors shut, the two of them alone together for the first time as the elevator began its slow ascent.

The movement made it feel as if her heart was sinking to the depths of her stomach, her anxiety building, as she leaned back against the right side of the elevator directly across from Jeremy. He was smiling still, watching her, admiring her. And she couldn’t help but smile too. It was contagious.

Her smile had him smiling wider.

Then, he pushed off the wall of the elevator and closed the short distance between them. He moved so quickly her anxieties didn’t have enough time to worsen, nor did they ease. Her heart raced in the depth of her chest as his hands found her waist, drawing her in from the cold support of the elevator wall and into the strength of his body. He was lean, maybe even a little too lean for her liking, but she could feel how strong he was as her body was pulled flush with his. Katie could feel it first in his grasp, as Jeremy’s fingertips pressed into the curves of her waist. Then again, as her hands braced against his chest, her own careful touch sliding up - feeling his pectorals flex in the process - and around before linking behind his neck. Her tough welcomed Jeremy in, and with him came his kiss.

Katie had to press up onto her toes to meet it, even in her heels. Teetering on the toes of her heels as Jeremy leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to her lips. She had expected it to be a desperate kiss. One that was sloppy, and would leave her face wet and her eyes rolling, but she was wrong. Jeremy kissed her slowly, both hands on her hips for one moment, the next one had risen to stroke over the soft skin of her cheek. His thumb dragged over the smooth flesh, and down to catch on her chin, drawing her mouth open. Katie had to choke back a moan at the feeling of his tongue slipping in between parted lips. The warm stroke of his tongue infiltrated her mouth, the depth of the kiss leaving her legs weak as the elevator door chimed.

They had reached her floor.

red

She licked her lips as she drew back, her hands falling to her clutch to fumble with its contents for her room key. If she was fumbling with her purse, she wouldn’t have to look up and risk anyone else seeing the red lipstick that quickly became a mess on her face. She could feel how it was smudged off her lips, and she was sure that if she looked to Jeremy who now followed behind her like a shadow, that it would be smeared over his lips as well.

But she didn’t look up. Not until she got to the door of her room and she took a deep breath. Once she crossed the threshold, there would be no going back. The thought left her on the verge of vomiting as she heard the lock click, and her hand reached for the door handle. She was nervous, more than that. Anxious. She was anxious. But there was an excitement that left her shivering as she led Jeremy into her hotel room.

If he was going to kiss her like that, she couldn’t wait to see what else he intended to do with her. But first-

“Do you want another drink?” Katie asked him quickly as she came to stand in front of the small console table in the entryway. She placed her clutch there, and her key and had intended to peel away from it to move to the small bar in her room, but she found herself trapped between it and Jeremy’s body as the door shut behind her.

Hands splaying out over the table, Katie braced herself there as Jeremy’s hands returned to her body. One snake around her waist, easing her to lean back into him while the other carefully pushed her loose auburn curls away from the pale skin from her neck. Her eyes went wide, fixated on the horrible piece of art that hung on the wall as his hot breath encroached on her neck. It washed over her in heated waves. The hot moisture was almost enough to make her sweat, but instead Jeremy left her melting. His kiss was slow against her neck. Peppering at first before his lips were dragging down her skin, leaving hot trails down to her collarbone and back up again.

Her heart fluttered. Then it pounded. So loudly, all Katie could hear was her heartbeat in her ears. It left her eyes fluttering shut, her mind focused on nothing but the kiss of his lips and the touch of his hands on her body. He caressed her curves, gripped at her flesh and kissed every bit of exposed skin on her neck, throat and shoulders. And it all left her melting, her mind fuzzy, and any bit of inhibition was ready to leave her and let him do as he pleased with her body. That was until she left his hand encroached on the hem of her dress. The warm touch of his hand on the sensitive skin of her thigh sent her head into a panic.

This was the beginning of foreplay.

Katie should have expected it, she should have been looking forward to it. But it left her nerves raw. In all the years she had been married to Ronnie, foreplay had been forgotten. Sex was an obligation and it was quick. A mere tool used to please her husband while she was left to finish herself off in the shower or beside him after he had fallen asleep in bed. Back then, it didn’t matter if she was dressed in lingerie or pajamas. If she had a fresh shave, or hadn’t shaved for weeks. Ronnie didn’t care - or atleast, he always said he didn’t. But now, as a stranger’s hands were so eager to explore every inch of her body, it left her self conscious.

“I’ve got whiskey at the bar,” Katie breathed out quickly, her knees weak as she stepped away from him and quickly moved for the bar.

She was met by Jeremy’s low chuckle,“I’m not that bad looking, am I?”

“No - no, it’s not that - I’m sorry,” Katie apologized, her hand grasping at one of the little bottles of rum from the bar, “I haven’t done anything like this in a long time. I’m just a little nervous.”

“How long’s it been?” His words were casual, his confidence unwavering even as she found her so close to plummeting.

“Since when?” She asked slowly, seeking clarification if only to bide herself more time. Katie didn’t want to have to tell him the truth, but she wasn’t a liar.

“Since you’ve had casual sex?”

“You really don’t want to know,” she countered.

Omission was not the same as lying.

Looking up from the bar top, and the bottle of whiskey in her hand that she had yet to uncork her eyes rose to look at Jeremy who had found his way to the end of her bed. He had seated himself down, his shoes kicked off his feet, and he leaned back on his elbows, lounging casually in the bed that had yet to be slept in.

While he laid back, so casually, that he could have let his head lul back and let himself stare at the ceiling. But even as he relaxed there, waiting for her nerves to be put at ease by a little liquid courage, his soft brown eyes were fixated on her. Her grip tightened around the neck of the bottle, a quivering breath coursing through her body as she held his stare. It was soft, alluring in a way that left her ready to answer anything he may ask of her and it left her curing under her breath. It was a dangerous thing, just how easy to trust he was.

Pouring her drink, straight whiskey into her glass, she sipped the room temperature alcohol back and let it burn. Then, under the blaze of it consuming her, Katie answered, “Twenty years.”

“Bullshit.”

Katie’s lips pressed together in a small smile, the shock on his ace coaxing an innocent shrug from her shoulders.

“You don’t look a day over thirty.”

“Now that is bullshit,” she pointed at him, her lips spreading into a wider grin now.

“You look incredible. That dress, your body. What can I say? You caught my attention. But I bet that dress looks even better on the floor.”

Katie swallowed back the lump that quickly formed in her throat as his words. She was very self conscious about her body. It changed drastically over the years. Once she was skinny, flat and narrow in no way the healthiest version of herself. But it was also the one that had carried her child, and left her with curves she didn’t want and scars only her ex-husband had seen. And now she was going to share it with Jeremy, a man who she was sure still had so much to learn about a woman’s body. It was a terrifying thought. One that hung in the back of her mind as she abandoned her drink on the bar and stepped out of her heels.

Barefoot, she took careful strides towards the bed, her demeanor caught somewhere between confident and terrified, but it caught his attention all the same. Katie knew she had caught his eye when his smile tested the limits of how far it could spread over his cheeks as Jeremy sat up from where he leaned. He moved slowly to the edge of the bed, his legs spreading just enough for Katie to stand between them.

With a careful, final step, Katie stood between his legs and looked down at him. Her heart pounded deep in her chest, so hard and so rapidly she thought her ribs were about to rattle. And in her chest, she could feel her very last inhale struggling to creep its way back up her throat in the calm of an exhale. It burned in her lungs, the nerves of undressing in front of him smothering her. That was, until she felt the warms of Jeremy’s hands find her body, and in an instant she calmed.

She exhaled slowly through slightly parted lips as her eyes fell shut. In the darkness it brought, Katie fixated on the warmth of Jeremy’s touch. It dragged over her curves, tracing each rise and fall with his fingers and palms before each of his hands settled on her broad hips. There, he gripped her gently and guided her steps in a small circle so she stood with her back to him.

Katie raised up her arms slowly, her hands dragging up her own neck and tangled into her auburn strands as she drew them away from the zipper of her dress. Her breath hitched again, but only for a moment, in the back of her throat as she felt his fingers pinch at the zipper and drag it down. He inched it down slowly, and Katie could feel the black fabric begin to fall away from her skin. And as the warm fabric fell away, the cold air of the room kissed her skin. It sent a shiver coursing up her spine, her entire body shuttering as the fabric hit the ground, leaving her in nothing but a pair of black lace pair of panties.

They were brand new. The tag was in the trash bin in the bathroom. And Katie would be forever thankful that she had bought them when she bought the dress instead of wearing something she had packed. If she had been wearing anything else, she may have recoiled from his touch, but instead, as she turned in place to face him, Katie radiated confidence.

He could see almost all of her, from her stretch marks to the freckles on her skin. Yet, Jeremy’s touch didn’t recoil, his hands continued to explore the expanse of her body and his dark eyes didn’t look away. Instead, they traced her every curve on the way back up to her face that was left blank from the nerves that came from waiting for his reaction. Katie was sure that Jeremy hadn’t seen a body like hers before. So old, so flawed, so-

Her thoughts were broken by Jeremy’s slow, soft spoken words. “Yeah, looks much better on the floor,” Jeremy punctuated his words with the slow swipe of his tongue over his lip as his warm gaze dragged up and down the length of her body. His complement dissolved any feeling of nervousness, of insecurity, that had consumed Katie. Her joints had been weak, and her heart racing, but he brought her calm.

In that calm, Katie found her confidence. Her teeth bit down on her lower lip, her mind racing as she tried to determine what exactly her first move would be – and then she took it.

One step, and then another, Katie brought her legs up to kneel on the bed, the mattress shifting beneath her weight as she straddled Jeremy’s lap. The denim on his dark jeans was rough against the inside of her thighs as his hands helped guide her down into his lap. Jeremy’s arms constricted around her, drawing her nearly naked body flush to his. Katie could feel his hot breath against her cheek, her inhale drawing in the sweet scent of alcohol before she stole a kiss from his lips.

Katie wasted no time with sweetness or caution. Instead she kissed him with such an insatiable hunger, she knew tasting him on her tongue wouldn’t be enough. But it was a start. Each deep kiss and stroke of her tongue against his left his stubble to drag over the sensitive skin of her jaw and cheeks. It was rough, scratching against her skin and contrasting the tender movements of his hands as his warm touch moved up over the curves of her body. Jeremy’s touch settled on the broad curve of her hips, his fingers digging into the soft and supple flesh. And it was the only encouragement she needed to coax the subtle roll of her hips over the roughness of her jeans.

Quickly, Katie became intoxicated by his kiss, by his touch and the very feeling of him between her legs. It began with the friction of his fly against the crotch of her panties, the subtle friction sparking the beginnings of her arousal. And then she felt him. His cock stiffened in the confines of his jeans, growing and becoming a thick outline that pressed up into the thick denim that divided them. Katie dragged her core up and down his clothed length, a shudder taking her body as a soft moan was coaxed from her lips. And it left Jeremy smiling as he pulled back just enough to tug off his t-shirt.

Her eyes looked him up and down in a quick glance. Jeremy was fit. With his chest muscles flexing, the outline of his abs clear and his biceps building as he tossed his t-shirt aside, Katie almost tucked her tail and ran. He wasn’t an Adonis of a man, but he was intimidating in every way. Especially, while she was no idyllic beauty herself.

“That’s just,” she exhaled a long, desperate breath, “not even fair.”

Jeremy’s grin grew wider, his hands gripping her hips a little tighter, as he picked her up and flipped her to lay back against the comfort of the bed. The action left her breathless, her hands scrambling against the bed to ease herself upright until she felt Jeremy’s hand flat against her stomach to keep her in place as she lay just beneath the comfort of the hotel room pillows. She lay there panting for a moment, her hair a mess against the bed and her eyes fixated on the ceiling as she felt the bed shift, and Jeremy settle between her legs.

“Just take a second, relax,” Jeremy’s hot words washed over the inside of her thighs, and her core clenched.

The room around her seemed to spin as she lay there, her lips parted in disbelief as she felt his fingers hook on the black lace of her panties and dragged them down the length of her legs. She could feel the warm, wet puddle of her arousal as it dragged down against her inner thigh, and her stomach knotted as she felt the warmth of his breath encroach on her needy core. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had been between her legs - if one had been at all, because she knew her husband never had been. But Jeremy didn’t hesitate.

He lay on the bed on his stomach between her legs, his one hand sliding down from her hip, over the red curls of hair that trailed down over her pelvis and down to the slick folds between her thighs. He stroked her slowly, with two fingers barely brushing her slit before parting her with his fingers and tracing the sweet arousal at her core. Jeremy teashed her there, her heart racing as she tried so desperately to be calm. Her heart pounded, and her teeth care down on her lower lip in a firm bite, the pain a little distraction from the insecurities that threatened to consume her. She in no way felt prepared for this of all things. It was supposed to be a quick fuck, but then she felt him. The warmth of his tongue stroked over the entrance of her cunt and she moaned.

It ripped up her throat before she could stop it, the heat and wetness of his long tongue a stark contrast to the colder temperature of the hotel room. And the sound only seemed to fuel him. He delved into her as if he was dehydrated and she was all he had to drink. His tongue parted her folds, and delved into her core leaving her cunt dripping with his saliva. His hands wound around her waist, one moving over the thick red curls of her hair as he blindingly fumbled for her clit as his face was buried between her thighs.

Reaching down, her hand took hold of his carefully. Her fingers slid along his, gripping them carefully as she guided him to just the right spot. But once she guided him there, Katie’s touch didn’t leave him. Her hand remained resting over his. It kept his pressure even, and his motion just right as he rubbed her in slow circles. The action wound her up, the pleasure building like a wind up toy. Each stroke of his tongue, and every rotation of his fingers left her burning pleasure to coil in her stomach and soon she was seeing stars. She was so close to the brink of her pleasure, that her toes were curling against the sheets and her thighs threatened to close in on his ears. But that was where he left her, on the verge of her climax, as he trailed sloppy kisses down the inside of her thighs before he could push up and pull as his belt.

Pushing up onto her elbows, she watched as she pulled his belt free, and worked his jeans and his boxer briefs down his legs together. It was hard not to stare, to admire the muscles of his body as she fished through his pocket or his wallet, and then the condom that was tucked in its folds.

The wrapper became discarded on the bed beside her, and he worked the latex onto his cock, ready to take his place between her legs again, but she didn’t let him. Katie felt too guilty, selfish even, for having his face buried between her legs, and it had her pushing up from her place with a sudden surge of confidence. Her hands found the strength of Jeremy’s chest, a playful shove knocking him back to lay against the bed so she could climb into his lap once more. She took in a steady breath, her nose wrinkling for a moment as it crossed her mind that she may be too old for what she had in mind, but it didn’t stop her.

With a single hand, Katie reached down between their bodies and took hold of his cock in her hand. She stoke it slowly, once and then again before she brought it to the entrance of her core. The mere pressure of the tip of her cock threatened to send her legs trembling before she could take him. If it were anyone else, Katie might have given up and let him take her plainly on her back knowing full well it would get the job done for her. But Katie persevered. She eased herself down onto him slowly, her eager core accommodating him so effortlessly it left her moaning. And once she felt his warmth against her ass, and had consumed him into the depths of her core, Katie began to ride him.

Her hands braced herself against the slender strength of her chest as her hips rolled. She moved in a slow and steady rhythm, the friction sending pleasure boiling through her entire body. Katie became lost in the feeling of hip hips rising to meet her body in a gentle pound. It was all she could fixate on, even as her legs began to tremble and the muscles in her legs began to burn. She could hear each subtle impact, the meeting of skin, and it became a symphony of sounds that mixed with her desperate breath and the soft sounds that she coaxed from Jeremy’s lips. He reeled on the bed beneath her, his warm eyes admiring her body as his hands gripped her hips and fingers sunk into the flesh of her ass. He encouraged her every move, guiding her up and down his cock, but she couldn’t hide how her legs trembled.

Jeremy grinned wide, his head leaning back against the pillow as he let out a trembling breath of words, “Look so pretty taking my cock, you wanna see?”

Katie found herself at a loss for words as she slid down the length of his cock and froze with him deep inside her. Her breaths quaked under each uneven breath, and her mind was left fuzzy by the mere feeling of being so full of him. And all she could do was nod.

Carefully, Jeremy eased her from his cock, and guided her to rest on all fours on the bed. In front of her at the end of the bed was the dresser, her empty bag still resting on top of it, but it wasn’t enough to block the view of the mirror that hung on the wall above it. She could see her reflection there, her auburn hair left mused and her face was almost just as red as it was flushed and smeared with her red lipstick. She could see her body too. Her skin was fair and freckled and so exposed. Her breast hung in two small swells, and from behind her shoulders she could see the swell of her hips and Jeremy positioning himself behind her. His eyes were fixated on her ass, as were his hands that kneaded at the soft flesh.

Katie could see his lips move in a silent curse that was lost on her as he pulled he positioned her just right. And when he had her just where he wanted her, the careful glide of the tip of his cock found her entrance again, and her thrust deep inside. The first thrust left her mewling, and the second left her fingers to grip at the bedding below. She met every single one of Jeremy’s thrusts, the mass of her ass quaking from each impact. But she didn’t watch herself, Katie’s eyes did not leave Jeremy. She watched as his face softened, and his muscles flexed. His eyes even closed from the time as he became lost in the feeling – but when they opened his stare met his gaze in the mirror.

Jeremy tutted her gently, a single hand leaving the soft flesh of her hip to travel up the length of her back. As he moved, she could feel more and more of his body against her. Then, his hand found her throat. He held it carefully, without pressure, and guided her up to kneel. There she could feel his entire body against hers, all the while his cock was buried deep in her core. His thumb rested along her chin, and his forefinger stretched out along her jaw, and Jeremey held her gaze there, on her own feeble expression as he fucked her until her throat was raw, and her core clenched desperately around her cock. It was under the pressure of her core’s embrace that she felt his breathing quicken,the rush of air hot against the back of her neck as he reached the very peak of his climax.

His hands fell away from her lip ribbon, and Katie fell back onto her hands and knees. Her entire body trembled as she lowered herself down to the mattress. The soft twitches involuntary as she was left panting and void of Jeremy as he eased his cock from her. She was seeing stars, her head or the room spinning as the rush of being fucked began to fade. Katie was left exhausted, ready for sleep, but satisfied - feeling euphoria for the first time in years. But before she could sleep, she needed to take care of Jeremy.

“You’re welcome to shower before you go,” she offered as she lay sprawled out on the mattress. It was the least she could do.

“I’m going to take you up on that,” Jeremy carded a hand through his sweaty curls as he nodded towards what he thought was the bathroom door.

Katie nodded in confirmation, and watched as he disappeared through the bathroom door. She did not move until she could hear the water tattooing against the shower floor. But she didn’t go far. She reached out to the dresser, and she pulled open the dresser drawer. She had left her pajamas on the very top, the same ones she was going to wear before Dottie had convinced her to go out, and she dressed slowly. Her body ached in the best way as she stepped into them. Then, she joined Jeremy in the bathroom.

The room was full of steam, the mirror fogged over as she moved to stand in front of it. A single hand cut through the fog, revealing her tired reflection, but best of all she could see the silhouette of Jeremy in the shower behind her. She stood there, brushing her teeth, her eyes admiring his body as it was obscured by the steamy glass.

Leaning forward, Katie spat a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink.

“I’m going to turn in, you can let yourself out when you’re done. Use all the hot water if you want, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t steal my wallet while I slept.”

Jeremy’s laughter filled the air as effortlessly as the plumes of steam from his shower. It drew Katie's eyes to his blurred silhouette, a small smile curling up on her own lips. She could get used to that sound, and the warm fuzzy feeling that came with it. The joy and amusement it embodied was one she needed to embrace herself–

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. Goodnight, Katie.”

–And for a moment she frowned as she moved for the doorway, her eyes fixated on the ground, as she realized it was a laugh she wouldn't hear again.

Sweaty palms threatened the integrity of a single slip of paper as Katie held it firm in a single fist. It was a pale yellow posted note, one that she had found stuck to her bathroom mirror when she had woken up in the morning. It was left there to be found by tired eyes, the message: For if you ever find yourself alone in Boston. Paired with Jeremy’s phone number, it had made her smile as she tucked it into her purse before she had gone out for brunch with her son, Parker, her ex-husband and his new fiance. But it had also left her panicked when it had fallen out of her purse when she pulled out her wallet as she insisted on paying at least half of the bill. It rested on the table face door for a moment, Katie had frozen completely and Parker was quick to try and retrieve it for her, but she had acted quickly. She had grabbed it before he could, and then she had conceded. Parker paid for their meal, and the paper had remained secured in her hand as they left and parted ways.

Even as she walked alone in a park she couldn’t remember the name of, the slip of paper remained secure in her hand. In the other she held her cell phone against her ear as it rang. She needed to call Dottie. She needed to know everything.

“He left me his number.”

“That’s my girl. Rocked that boy’s world.” Dottie encouraged her with a holler.

Katie looked down to her feet, her face flushed with color. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done anything like she had with Jeremy, and if it had been anyone else Katie would have bit her tongue. But she could trust Dottie more than anyone. They were best friends, practically sisters, Katie could tell her anything.

“I think he had to be older than I thought. He was actually really good in bed,” Katie smiled a little too wide as she spoke. It had been too long since she had a real girl talk. “Like really good. And his body, Dot, I couldn't have pulled a guy like that when I was twenty.”

“What did he say he did for work?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask-”

“Maybe he’s a porn star,” Dottie joked but Katie didn’t laugh.

She could only shrug. “I mean, it would explain a lot.”

“You used a condom, right?”

“Yes mom, of course I did,” Katie rolled her eyes.

“Good girl, are you going to text him?”

The question hung in the air for a moment. Katie looked away out over the park as if Katie could see her on what was merely a voice call. The prospect of reaching out to Jeremy was a pleasant thought in her mind. He was attractive, kind, and so good in bed. He treated her the way that she wanted to be treated. She should want to call him, but he was young. Too young to be anything more than a one night stand.

She could never see Jeremy again.

“Fuck, no,” she assured Dottie, “number went into the trash,” her words were rushed as she lied, and rushed further to assure Dottie wouldn’t question her on it. “I gotta go, I’ll call you after the game tonight. Kisses!”

TD Garden was unlike any arena Katie had ever been in. The fans were loud, so loud she swore her bones rattled in her body with every intense cheer. And the atmosphere left her sitting on the edge of the seat since before the game could even start. Or maybe that was just the nerves as she sat beside her ex-husband as they watched their son Parker Waylon-Stacy erupt from the tunnel to take his rookie lap.

Her hands came together over her heart, her eyes fixated on him, and then the jumbotron above as the camera followed his path along the side. The threat of tears burned at her eyes, her lips parted in a breath that fought back of heartfelt sob that erupted when his name was plastered across the screen with his stats from the AHL. Parker Stacy.

Stacy.

Her last name on her back, not her husband’s last name or the hyphenation of the two. It left ehr on the verge of tears throughout the night, and they did spill as it came down to the third period when she shot up from her seat as her son assisted on what would be the game winning goal. Katie cried into her hands, her husband’s arm patting her back as the crowd erupted around them. There was no greater pride than celebrating her son’s success in that moment with her husband, and the strangers around her that even offered her some napkins as her mascara began to run.

“That’s my son,” she sobbed with pride, and the crowd of college kids around her celebrated with her. Some jumped, others spilled their beer, Katie even received a hug, but they all cheered, “Stacy's Mom!”

Katie remained in her seat after the game, reveling in the silence as the seats around her and her family cleared. And she only moved from her palace when she received a text message from Parker. He wanted them to come down to the locker room. It sent her through what felt like a maze of the arena, but with the help of a member of the security team, she found her boy.

Katie ran to him, her arms enveloping her only son in her arms and pressing a kiss into his sweat drench hair. There the tears began to fall in hot streams down her cheeks, “I am so proud of you,” she told him as she drew back, her hand cradling his cheeks. Parker’s face was red, surely embarrassed by his mother’s affections, but he didn’t stop her. He had always been a mama’s boy, and that wouldn’t change even if his teammates gave him a hard time about that later.

Parker wore a boyish grin, his hand raising to push through his wet hair. He was already showered and dressed, even if some of the other players around him were still half-dressed in their equipment. Parker was ready to leave, but first he wanted to make the introductions he felt he may never be able to make again. “Mom this is Patrice Bergeron-”

Katie turned in place, a smile blossoming over her face as she reached out to shake the Captain’s hand. She had every intention of being polite. She wanted to introduce herself, to make the small talk as she was prompted to. But her words were lost as hoots and hollers of the nickname Bulldog filled the room. The players were welcoming their rookie goaltender back into the room after completing his post game interview. Confidence embodied his every stride, and it drew Katie’s curious eye.

The player was still dressed in his equipment, his back to her as he stood in front of his stall. SWAYMAN was sprawled across the back of his shoulders, framed by his shoulders. A single large hand reached back, peeling it from his body before it was tossed into a pile with the others. Katie’s eyes moved back to the Captain, a small awkward smile on her lips as she listened to him talk about the pleasure of mentoring her son. But his words were lost on her ears as they perked up at the sound of all too familiar laughter.

Katie’s blood ran cold, her eyes searching for the sources of the laughter. Her heart pounded in her chest, her stomach jumping up into her throat as she was left on the verge of vomiting. There, standing in his stall, laughing along with his teammates was Swayman, who no longer stood with his back to her. He was completely shirtless now, and his face was all too clear to see. She knew those warm brown eyes, and that soft confident smile. The sight of them was one that would be etched into her memories for the rest of her days.

Swayman was Jeremy.

She stood there, petrified, her eyes unmoving from his as he leaned back and flexed his chest muscles. It was there, with his back leaned against his stall, his warm gaze rose and his face softened with recognition. If he was panicked he didn’t show it. And while she froze, Jeremy acted. He stood up slowly, Katie had to fight not to let her eyes wander, and he approached with a casual stride.

“I didn’t realize we had guests,” Jeremy smiled as he came up to stand beside his Captain, but Katie could barely hear him over the pounding of her heart in her ears.

The room around her seemed to move in slow motion, her head suddenly feeling light as Patrice introduced her as Stacy’s Mom. It was then she thought she might actually vomit, the bile burning at the back of her throat as Jeremy looked to her with slightly parted lips and a slight glimmer in his eyes. Her palms began to sweat, so much so that she had to wipe her hands along the seam of her jeans before she could reach out to shake Jeremy’s hand as he offered it to her.

“Stacy’s Mom?” Jeremy spoke with such disbelief that Katie almost believed her, “You don’t look a day over thirty.”

White she had heard that same flattery before it made her heart race all the same. But this time, she couldn’t show it.

“You’re too kind,” Katie forced a smile, struggling to remain composed as the feeling of her hand encased by his left her heart racing just as his touch had the night before. It was enough to bring her to her knees.

Jeremy made her weak, and he would for the rest of her days. She would crave him, in every sense of the word. Katie wanted to hear his sweet laughter. She wanted to feel his hands on her body, and enjoy every piece of his that he could offer her. It was a hunger that would rage and burn in the depths of her, but it was one that she could never fulfill. Not now, not that she knew who he was.

Standing there, the chaos of the room became an echo in her ears as her hand fell away from Jeremy’s hold. She watched as he met her ex-husband, his smile consistently pleasant and was the only thing keeping her from spiraling right there in the locker room.

Katie would be seeing Jeremy Swayman again. At games, during breaks. Often. So often it would pain her. And she could only pray that she would have the strength to refuse him, or that Parker would find himself on a new team before her will could break.

Katherine Stacey could not fuck Jeremy Swayman.

She wouldn’t.

Not again.

Surely, she wouldn’t be able to get away with it. Not without complications.

Could she?

Taglist: @mp0625 @starshine-hockey-girl

#jeremy swayman #boston bruins #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl rpf #hockey rpf #hockey smut #hockey imagines #hockey romance #age gap romance #nhl writing #jeremy swayman x original character #nhl smut

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n3xii · 1 year

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What makes you an icon?

Icon series part 1 《☆》

For today's reading were gonna be addressing what talents you have, what people will remember you for, and the impact you're gonna have on others. We're essentially exploring why you should never forget you status as an icon. This is gonna be apart of a series where I use my favorite people from history to inspire the topic of the readings. The person below is my favorite singer Ronnie James dio. He's my image of someone who leaves behind a legacy and has an impact on others 💅

Pile one

Your talents》》

Everything you touch is immaculate. You have an ability to refine and improve anything you put your mind to. Your creative abilities come from you dedication and practice. Your creations are a result from how much you've matured in your artistic, musical, theatric endeavors. No matter what you do, you are a creative. You are constantly improving and have an ability to dedicate time to your passions in a way that makes you a master at them. Spirit is showing me that you're a litteral genius when it comes to what you do, and have the potential to teach and guide others with your techniques. The people who picked this pile are good at art, music, theater, gambling, risky games, divination, parenting children and things of that nature.

What others will remember about you 》

They will remember you as someone who never let fear hold them back. They will remember you as someone who provided a safe and secure place for others to work through their fears. You are supportive and people feel safe with you. People will never forget the security you've provided them in times of uncertainty, many of you will have families and people will remember you as a wonderful caretaker and support system to those families. This is both biological AND chosen families.

What impact will you have on others?

I've seen 1111 twice while doing your reading. Pay attention to that number if you've been seeing alot in your reality. But first and foremost, people who chose this pile will become family to people who've been cast away, abdonded or cut off from their family. You may have been through this yourself to an extent. The impact you will have on others is providing a sense of home to those who've been denied it. Espeically if you identify as queer, you will have a lasting impact on your community in providing support, community and even shelter. Your creative work may even focus on accomplishing a sense of unity as well. People who chose this pile may also have a lasting impact on immigrant communities as well. This pile makes me want to cry. You are an icon because you are home, you are unity and you are the brother, sister, mother, or father that someone may have never had. Even if you don't have to identify as queer you may just be an ally, either way your impact is undeniable

Pile two

Your talents 》》

People who chose this pile are likely talented in technology, design, transforming things, inventing things, your Intution also gives you an almost unfair advantage over other people. People who chose this pile have a talent in regonizing and pioneering new technology, ideas and software. You will improve apps, create apps, games, and many of you will likely develop new technologies in psychology as well. Infact I feel like this group is divided into 2 groups, those talented at specifically technogical engineering such as game design or software startups, and those talented in psychology. Others are a mix of both and will use that to their advantage. Psychic abilities as well

What people will remember you for 》

You will be remembered for your gratitude and appreciation of others. You never let anyone around you forget their importance and value. And because of that, people will remember you a as a gracious, appreciative and kind soul. I'm also seeing your faith being a main component of what others remember you for. You have an endless capcity to extend faith and gratitude, and you will inspire others around you to do the same.

What impact will you have on others

I'm getting another message about your intution. You clairvoyance is strong and will develop more over your life time. You know things about others that they don't know, you're able to perceive other worlds and opportunities that others wouldn't have been able to perceive independently. I see that people who chose this pile will help others with their intution, you will pioneer a new path ahead with your gift of sight. I'm also seeing that you will teach people to accept themselves wholeheartedly and to use their own gift of sight. You're Iconic because you're a talented psychic, and a kind soul who helps people accept who they are.

Pile three

Your talents 》》

You have a talent of forming alliances. And with the alliances you create, you will mobilize alot of progress in not just your life but the life of others. You are bold, and although you may intimidate some people you will create bonds that have alot of power. You may be involved in actvisim, political work, debates etc. You have a talent of creating powerful change with your ability to connect with others.

What people will remember you for 》

People will remember you for the alliances and connections you made. You will likely befriend or even elope with people who are famous or have powerful influence. People will remember you as charming and always expanding yourself through connection. I'm seeing you have a powerful lineage and many of you will be remembered as amazing grandparents as well. Even if you don't have children, you will be remembered as an important elder in your community

What impact you will have on others 》

You're gonna bridge the gap between cultures, beliefs, religions, etc. The impact you have on others is longterm, people will remember you for a long time in your family line. They will look up to you as someone they should be themselves. You have a lasting impact even after your death, your life will teach people things and teach them PRINCIPLES of morality that they should reflect in their own behaviors. This is a beautiful message !

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steve-rambo-leaks · 3 months

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ＺＩＮＥ　ＣＯＮＴＥＳＴ　（ｗｉｔｈ　ｐｒｉｚｅ）（≧▽≦）

Ｉ　ｈａｖｅ　ａ　Ｚｉｎｅ　ｃｏｎｔｅｓｔ　ｆｒｏｍ　ＮＯＷ　ｕｎｔｉｌ　Ｆｅｂ　２４ｔｈ　（ａｕｔｉｓｍ　ｈｏｌｉｄａｙ）．　Ｐｌｓ　ｒｅａｄ　ｍｏｒｅ　ａｂｏｕｔ　ｈｏｗ　ｔｏ　ｓｕｂｍｉｔ，　ｔｈｅ　ｐｒｉｚｅｓ　ａｎｄ　ｗｈｙ　Ｉ＇ｍ　ｓｏ　ｈｙｐｅｄ．　

This is for BOTH people who consider themselves artists and those who don't. It doesn't have to be a comic. A ZINE CAN BE ANYTHING :D It can be a tech tutorial, it can be a comic, it can be flash fiction, it can be a local history guide, it can be Street Fighter II Turbo strategies printed out to be left in arcades, it can be anything!

The video below explains the process better than I could probably in text (I suck at conveying thing through text). My video also has a tl;dr that I would appreciate everyone read before submitting.

There's some other stuff below, but if you're more visual, like not the reading type (like me) then feel free to skip and just head to the video description to jump in.

Also, you may know me for my "Raspberry Pis are for paypigs" video where I try to advocate for the upcycling for ewasted Chromebooks.

I've been into the idea of leaving around Zines for a while. Every time I walk into a coffee shop or local business, I think "wow, I really would wish there was something cool to read." So I started making things to put there: 8 small 2.5 inch panels, folded into one 2.5 inch square for those interested to unravel. I put them inside of these origami boxes that a learned how to make, ones with a logo printed on them.

So far I've made: a zine template (I call it a dog ear zine for some reason), a template for the box to put them in, a zine about using yt-dlp, a zine about a reindeer working IT (along with a collaborator) and (coming soon) a zine about a monster in a cave doing stuff. All of the odg LibreOffice Draw template files to make your own zines or print out mine are on my archive.org page (linked at top of my Tumblr). I'd really like other people to try this 8 panel 2.5 inch zine format, and I'm willing to bribe people with sweet, sweet Gabe Newell bucks to do it. You can submit as many zines in this format as you want. Just make sure they're printed out and have pictures of both the front and back (plus other pictures if you want) . In the video I mentioned you can use my submit page, which is probably the easiest for me to keep track of. You can also use the #dogearzine hashtag to enter. Please read the video description before entering, though (which includes Youtube's and Tumblr's terms of service, though this is more of a youtube thing).

youtube

Also, and this is completely unrelated, there's a lot more to me than just the faux-clickbait Wojak thumbnails. I like doing tech, wrestling, japanese, vidya and other videos, but I love to throw art in whenever I can shoehorn it in. Like, the video where I go over inchworm, butterfly, colors 3D and flipnote sudomemo - colors 3D on a hacked 3DS was my sister's first experience with digital at (she's moved up to an iPad and Procreate). So, it hold a special place in might heart, as a lot of the things I talk about do. I made a Whomp video because I miss Ronnie. I made a Rockbox video because I wished more people used dedicated MP3 players and knew where and how to download music. I want to help people do interesting things. And I also want to thank anyone who read all of this. You are cool. I hope everyone who's able to can compete in this contest and challenge themselves to get out of their comfort zone, to try something new! Also, also, thanks for liking these posts, people on Tumblr. You all have cool blogs. (^o^)丿

#zine #contest #zine contest #youtube #zine template #archive.org #comic #challenge #fun #chromebook #raspberry pi #wojak #zine ideas #fun ideas #steam #Youtube

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morbidology · 4 months

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Diane Tilly lived her life with zest and enthusiasm. Her friends would say that she had a mischievous humor and a smile that radiated in any crowd. Diane had helped establish Robbins Academy, an alternative high school for high-risk students in San Antonio, Texas. Here, she used the skills that made her such a great friend and mother.

She inspired those all around her with her generosity and dedication to improving her student’s lives. She had a strong belief that every single student, regardless of their circumstances, could succeed. “Diane was the heart of the school to the teachers as well as the students,” said Bill Sain, a Robbins Academy math teacher. “Diane would never let students give up.”

In fact, Diane would become so close to her students that a number would stay in contact with her after their graduation. In a way, Diane considered herself a mother to the struggling students. Diane had two birth children and she referred to them as the greatest achievement. “Momma talked about her friends, students and family as if they could do no wrong – she really felt that way,” recollected her son, Stephen Tilly.

Diane had just returned home from a school reunion in a wonderful mood on the 22nd of November, 2004. She was expecting a second grandchild and she was going to visit a boyfriend over the thanksgiving period. Unbeknownst to her, he planned on proposing. Unfortunately, however, somebody else had different plans for Diane that evening.

Ronnie Joe Neal and his 15-year-old daughter, Pearl Cruz, had been planning on robbing and killing Diane “because she was wealthy and made a lot of money.” The plan began with a scheme to gain the teacher’s trust. Ronnie had met Diane as he was handing out flyers for his lawn-mowing business. She decided to hire him to do some work in her garden. As they got to know one another, Ronnie told Diane about his daughter, Pearl. Diane was moved by Ronnie’s stories about his daughter that one afternoon, she randomly gifted him a swing set. Ronnie took this opportunity to bring Pearl over to Diane’s home to introduce them.

On that fateful evening in November 2004, their plans materialized....

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞:

#true crime

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seat-safety-switch · 1 year

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I’ve always been obsessed with street sweepers. Not the people, although I’m sure they have interesting stories, but the machines themselves. Street sweepers come out of the city’s industrial-equipment harem every spring, and capture my imagination immediately with their rotary-buffing antics. They’re trucks, but not as we know them. In fact, they likely have more overlap with my favourite tool of all time, the angle grinder.

Few other vehicles are as dedicated to the act of sweeping: even a plow truck can be used to make a Rotten Ronnies’ run, but good luck stuffing one of these babies inside a medium-size drivethrough. Even with the brushes disabled, it’ll sound like a helicopter, smell like week-old diapers dropped from said helicopter, and everyone involved will wish you hadn’t existed.

These trucks are truly beneficial: you can argue if a fire truck really helps people, or just teaches them to become lazy about fire safety and therefore dependent on the fire department. And they make unnecessarily loud siren noises – never proven by science to actually help – which anger the neighbourhood. Nobody is mad when they’re crawling under a decrepit mid-1970s General Motors product and finds that the curb lane is not covered in gravel, bits of safety glass, and old roofing nails, because the big ol’ Elgin just came through the night before.

And there’s something new and fascinating to learn about them. You might have a pretty good idea how a semi-truck operates from exposure to it in mass media. Chances are good that you can guess how a cement truck works. Maybe you can even draw a crude representation of a dump truck’s hydraulic actuator, and bore the shit out of neighbourhood toddlers who just want you to make the noise. A street sweeper, though: that thing has all kinds of systems. It’s got the thing that sprays water. It’s got the thing that holds water. It’s got those big-ass brushes, and the lifts, and the beepy thing.

The whole package, that’s what a street sweeper is. You could tear one of these bad boys down – although with the stench, maybe they just set them on fire after four or five years of use – and never stop finding cool new electromechanical gadgets to geek out over. That, to me, is good value for my tax money. If you find a used one, just make sure to run it through the car wash a bit.

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stardustbarbarians · 1 year

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Too Pretty For War

Chapter 2 (ch. 1 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7 | ch. 8 | ch. 9)

A Samuel Kiszka / fem!reader fic

Summary: The only way for Prince Sam to end a war is by marrying the enemy.

Tags: Prince!Sam, war, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers

A/N: I bet you weren't expecting this, were ya. I am overwhelmed by the response this is getting! Truly I can't thank you guys enough <3 Your admiration keeps me going! It's finals right now so I imagine this will be updated a lot as I tend to use fics as my outlet for stress, however I can't make any promises. As always, this series is dedicated to @safety-sam. Without any further ado, enjoy! <3

Words: 2.6 k

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Nightfall had befallen Athens. The world was sheathed in a dark shroud save for the few specks of starlight fighting the dark. The fire of torches also joined in the star’s rebellion, their soft glow casting dim light in the prince’s room. As the flames danced along to the song of the ocean breeze, they projected shadows that moved along to the beat of the tune. It was a calming scene to behold. It would’ve been, had it not been for the worried royal injecting the air with his anxiety.

“All you are achieving is creating a trench in your floor.” The prince snapped his gaze over to his advisor, noting how he seemed unaware of the crushing weight Sam felt.

“Forgive me, Daniel. But the entire fate of thousands of men’s lives rests upon my ability to secure a marriage with this woman! So, pardon me if I seem a little tense!” Sam snapped, only halting his pacing to look the scholar in the eyes. He continued again right after he finished his outburst, feeling as if he could scratch all of his skin off.

Daniel remained quiet. There was no arguing with Sam on that; he held the fate of his country on his shoulders and that was not an easy weight to bear.

“I feel like a gift pony,” Samuel lamented, his hands pulling at his silken toga as well as tanging his fingers in his intricately dressed hair. He gazed longingly at the ocean, hearing her call him to her waters.

“Well, you are one, in a way,” Daniel asserted, taking in how his best friend looked. He wore his finest sandals, the straps crossing across his toned calves and stopping below his knee. His mulberry toga kept him modest above the knee, the silk draping from his right shoulder while his left was fitted with an intricate gold piece of shoulder armor that was very clearly decorative rather than practical on his left that coiled down his bicep. His hair, before Sam had ruined it, had been pulled up into an intricate and entrancing coil of skill, but now half of it was hanging down onto the back of his neck.

“Thank you, Daniel.” If looks could kill, Samuel’s best friend would’ve dropped dead then and there.

Chuckling to himself, Daniel stood up from his seat and gently guided the prince to take his place. Sam did so without protest, collapsing into the chair as the scholar stood behind him.

“Let’s see if we can salvage this,” Daniel muttered, carefully removing the golden wreath adorning his best friend’s head. Samuel winced as a few strands of hair were pulled by the crown, but he didn’t get angry.

“This is doomed. I was not made for this. I will cause Athens’ demise,” the prince groaned, feeling as if he could cry. He was sitting forward resting his elbows on his knees before the scholar placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him so that he was sitting upright.

“Please, calm your worries. I will be right beside you the whole time,” his best friend soothed, his fingers running through Sam’s hair helping quell some of his anxiety.

The room went silent once again as Samuel got lost in his thoughts, the gentle brush of Daniel’s fingers calming him by each passing second. This wasn’t supposed to be his job. Samuel was supposed to take on a small area to govern and otherwise just stand there and look pretty.

“Alright. It is by no means what Ronnie’s maid was able to achieve, but I believe it’s passable,” the scholar declared, a note of pride in his voice as he admired his handiwork. Hearing it brought a tiny smile to the prince’s lips.

Samuel’s crown was placed back onto his head, the leaves gouging into his skin. There was a moment where it felt as if the scholar was drinking in the prince’s appearance, documenting each detail. Samuel wrote it off as him attempting to see anything he could possibly fix that was askew. However, it was hard for him to explain the hitch in his best friend’s breath as Sam looked over his shoulder at him.

“Are you ready?”

“No,” the prince instantly admitted, his head bowing. He was by no means ready for what was to come.

Now standing in front of his best friend, the scholar held out his hand. Sam regarded it before exhaling a deep sigh and placing his hand in Daniel’s. He was pulled up from his chair rather reluctantly, Daniel patting Sam on the shoulder before dropping his hand slowly.

“Remember, I’ll be right by your side. You have nothing to fear,” Daniel reassured, opening the door for his prince.

Staring at the gaping hole of the open door, Sam steeled himself and transformed into the royal he was required to be. Setting his shoulders back, he strode out of the safety of his bedroom and into the uncertainty of the future.

+++

Just as had been discussed, Samuel was to meet his family in the throne room. The Spartan princess had arrived the night prior but wouldn’t be properly introduced to the prince until the next night. Walking into that symbolic room, he found comfort in the gaze of his mother. She was clothed in black, still mourning the loss of her second son weeks after she had learned of his demise.

Just as promised, Daniel stuck to his best friend’s side as he made towards the front of the room. He stood front and center, on display for their guests. Daniel was off to the side but would be directly next to the prince within a moment should he need it.

“You’re a brave boy, swan,” Samuel’s mother whispered to him after wrapping her arms around him. Swan. He hadn’t heard that nickname in some time.

Before he knew it, horns blared as the arrival of the princess and her court was announced. The sound made the prince freeze up. It was too soon. He was snapped out of his panic by a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t have to look to know it was Daniel’s.

The door burst open. Samuel’s gaze fell upon the visage of a beautiful, strong woman clad in bronze armor. He was at first taken aback by the sight of a woman in armor, but he then recalled that all Spartans were trained to be warriors regardless of their status or gender. Getting over the initial shock, Sam found himself liking the idea. He knew plenty of women who could fend for themselves and some who could even best him in sparring.

Sam just wished he knew what she thought of him.

“Princess, I thank you for making the trip,” Sam’s father greeted, taking her hand in his and placing a kiss on the back.

“I extend gratitude towards you as well for the invitation,” she responded, her eyes quickly glancing at the prince before flashing a diplomatic smile that Sam could see through.

“Allow me to introduce my son: Samuel, Prince of Athens.” All attention was shifted onto the young prince. He forced himself not to buckle under their eyes, choosing to smile rather than fidget.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, princess,” he politely greeted, mirroring his father’s action of kissing her hand. He could tell she was not pleased by his touch, her smile straining.

“I’m sure,” she replied, all but ripping her hand out of his. All of the sudden everything culminated to the surface again. It had only been a few seconds and Sam was already ruining their chance at peace.

Samuel’s ears began to ring, his heart racing inside his chest. He felt cold, his energy being drained right out of him. The only thing that was keeping him upright was his royal training. He couldn’t show vulnerability he couldn’t show vulnerability he couldn’t show vulnerability-

“Samuel?”

Ripping him out of his thoughts was the sound of his mother’s voice. He blinked, glancing around the room to see all eyes once again on him. He missed something, but what it was he wasn’t sure. They were expecting something from him.

“My apologies,” Sam instinctively uttered, his voice sounding weak and catching in his throat. It caused him to clear it, using it as a reprise to compose himself.

“You were asked if you would wish to take Princess Y/N on a stroll through the grounds,” Daniel whispered into his ear. He had to have noticed the prince’s breakdown, knowing Sam like the back of his hand.

“Of course. Princess?” He offered his arm, intending for her to loop hers through it. However, she merely glanced down at it before walking past him towards the door.

Taken off guard once again, Sam quickly glanced at Daniel in confusion before following after her. She was already out of the room, Sam having to pick up his pace in order to follow.

“Princess, wait!” he called out, finally able to catch up to her after her stride slowed.

She wore a face that was stern, no readable emotion that Sam could detect. If anything, there was an air of annoyance wafting off her as her lips held the tiniest sneer on them. In the name of diplomacy and peace, Samuel let it go. Perhaps the customs were different in Sparta.

“You are quite fast,” Sam noted, flashing what he hoped was a charming smile.

“Or you are just simply slow,” she retorted, refusing to look at him and keep her eyes forward.

The prince was at an impasse. She clearly wanted nothing to do with him but they needed to make this work in order to achieve peace. Normally, Sam knew when to take the hint and back off, but in this instance he simply couldn’t.

So, Samuel continued to attempt small talk. Each attempt was met with icy and stunted responses. After so many times, Sam snapped.

“What is your quarrel, princess?!” he demanded, halting in front of her so that she finally had to look at him. Frustratingly, she looked straight through him and refused to respond.

She had made moves to walk around him, but he stepped in front of her each time. Finally, that made her look him in the eyes.

“The whole reason you are here is that we both want peace. The least you could do is try! There are lives that depend on this matrimony; for both of our kingdoms!” His hands balled into fists at his sides. To say he was furious with her behavior was an understatement.

“You are mistaken, your majesty. You are the one who wishes for peace, not I!” She cried, a fire in her eyes that Sam could only label as hatred.

The prince stood flabbergasted. Then why was she here?? What was her motive??

“Then pray, tell! What is your business here if you do not wish to end this pointless bloodshed?!”

At his question, a cruel and bitter smile slithered across her lips. Her eyes darkened, their true nature being exposed in the moon’s light.

“I can tell why you so desperately wish for peace. A face like yours… it’s far too pretty for war.”

With that final statement, Sam watched the rival princess disappear into the shadows of his palace. He remained frozen in place, truly taken aback by her words. Sam didn’t know what to do. He was doomed.

+++

Sam was able to locate Daniel on his favorite balcony, his raven curls floating on the breeze of the ocean. He looked content, staring out at the darkened horizon. He smiled warmly as he turned his gaze onto his best friend approaching him.

“How did it go?” the scholar asked, his chin resting on his hand as he leaned on the railing of the balcony. Samuel picked out the stars reflecting in Daniel’s dark eyes.

“The war will continue to rage, I’m afraid,” the prince sighed, ripping his crown from his hair. Some of his strands traveled with the gold leaves, swaying in the wind.

Daniel moved over to make room for Sam to stand by his side. “Recount what transpired to me.”

Rubbing his free hand over his face, Sam pinched the bridge of his nose before launching into the events of his stroll with the Spartan princess. He explained how she was nothing but rude and stand-offish towards him despite his efforts.

“I find that usually people are quite enamored with my charm.”

Daniel let out a knowing huff of laughter, his head ducking as he smiled. Looking back out at the sea once again, the scholar tucked his curls behind his ear to show off his dangling pearl earring. “You won’t find me denying such a claim.”

The pair smiled at one another momentarily, silence befalling them companionably.

“She told me my face was ‘too pretty for war’. I believe she called me a coward,” Sam recounted, his mood turning sour.

“Pretty, you are. A coward you are not,” Daniel immediately reassured, his gaze sliding to his prince’s face once more.

The prince remained silent. He didn’t believe his best friend for a moment. There was no way around it, Samuel was a coward.

“I failed my people before I even had the chance to build confidence in them.” Samuel wasn’t a buffoon. He knew what the peasants thought of him. That’s why they were all so incredibly nervous when Jacob was sent off to the war.

“None of that, now. The princess has not yet given her answer. There is still time to turn the tides in your favor,” the scholar sagely advised. Samuel often forgot just who his best friend was - a brilliant man. It was easy when this was the man who would help him attempt to tame dangerous beasts and steal for sport.

Silence fell once again. However, there was a clear tension lacing the air that made it uncomfortable.

“Sam, hear me,” Daniel began, standing to his full height to look him in the eye, “keep your wits about you when she is near.”

Samuel absorbed his best friend’s words, turning them over in his mind to pull the meaning out of the statement.

“You believe her to be a snake?”

“I believe she has something to hide. I say this only in concern for your safety, but please do not allow my words to sway you away from peace,” the scholar extrapolated, grabbing hold of one of the prince’s hands.

Sam trusted this man with his life. Anything that made him weary was cause enough for Samuel’s concern. Squeezing his best friend’s hand, he nodded. He would take Daniel’s words to heart.

“Your majesty,” a servant called, interrupting the moment. Caught by surprise, the men dropped hands.

“Here,” the prince responded, running a hand over the front of his tunic as a spike of anxiety surged in his body. “State your business.”

“I send word from the princess. She accepts your proposal,” the servant relayed, keeping his head lowered in the presence of royalty.

I did not fail.

He couldn’t help it. Sam whipped his head towards Daniel to find that he was looking right back at him. His best friend wore an expression of triumph and pride, his smile mirroring those emotions. However, Samuel could not be fooled. There was a negative emotion buried deep beneath the positive, but he couldn’t place what it was.

“Alert the king. Request that preparations will begin at sunrise,” the prince ordered, sending away the servant. He bowed before running off to fulfill his task.

Samuel fell against the railing of the balcony, relief crashing into him like a titanic wave. He hadn’t failed after all.

+++

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#greta van fleet #greta van fic #too pretty for war #sam kiszka #sam kiszka x y/n #sam kiszka x reader #samuel francis kiszka #sammy gvf #danny wagner #daniel robert wagner #danny gvf #jake kiszka #jake gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf

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atlafan · 1 year

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Violet Chemistry - Part One

In the criminal justice system, sexually based offenses are considered especially heinous...the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit. These are their stories.

a/n: I’m posting part one here, and the rest will be on my patreon. A few disclaimers: I am not promoting copaganda. I have simply re-watched 22 seasons of Law and Order: SVU and I wanted to write my own thing based off of the main characters Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson. If you’ve never watched SVU some of this is going to be very confusing, but I tried my best to explain things so you wouldn’t necessarily need the SVU background. Harry is basically Elliot, and Ronnie is basically Olivia. I am not an expert on the criminal justice system or special victims, I simply used the information from the show to create this story. So much of this fic is probably inaccurate.

Warnings: THERE WILL BE MANY TRIGGERS IN THIS STORY! The words rape, homicide, pedophilia, murder, etc are used throughout this fic. If these things deeply upset you or trigger you, please do not read this story. Mentions of cheating, domestic violence, and other upsetting content is also intertwined throughout this story. Again, if these are things you don’t like, then please don’t read it.

Words: 6.6K

Main Characters: Detective Harry Styles, Detective Cameron (Ronnie) Walsh

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“RONNIE!!”

It all happened so fast. Harry did the one thing he shouldn’t have: he ran to help his partner instead of chasing after the perp.

“SOMEONE CALL A BUS, NOW!” He screamed to the vice squad behind him while he added pressure to where Ronnie was bleeding out.

The EMT’s got to her as soon as they could, and when they told Harry he couldn’t ride with them to the hospital due to the severity of the wounds, but he went ballistic and they backed off, letting him into the back of the ambulance. The only people he listened to were the nurses at the hospital that told him he couldn’t go into the operating room. That’s when his captain caught up with him.

“I’m not leaving the hospital. Not until I know she’s alive and breathing.”

“Harry-“

“I don’t want to hear it, Cap.”

“Harry.” The captain yanked him aside and made him look at him. “You haven’t even asked about what happened to Jones. Did you forget what you’re on the payroll for?”

“Of course not.” He has tears rolling down his cheeks, but he’s so angry he doesn’t even realize. “I know I fucked up, but I saw Ronnie go down, and-“

“The chief is going to want you two separated after this.”

“I figured.” Harry looks away from him.

“I’m going to have the doc talk with both of you. You both need a psychological evaluation. Then a decision will be made.”

“Your decision or the chief’s?”

“Mine. He trusts my judgement. But I need to make sure I can trust both of yours.”

“Fine.”

“You still haven’t asked about Jones.”

“Respectfully, Cap, right now I don’t give a fuck about that piece of shit. Reynolds and Miller were there too, and since they’re not here worrying over Ronnie the way that I am, I’m assuming they caught Jones, or they’re down at the DA’s office waiting for arraignment.”

“They did catch him.” The captain nods.

“And the other underage girls? We only got a few of them out.”

“Found in one of his broken-down trailers, alive. Miller’s contacted their parents, they’re on their way here now. We had them sent right here so they could be checked over.”

“Obviously.”

“Don’t give me attitude, Harry. I’m giving you a very small, brief pass since Walsh is your partner, but that doesn’t mean you’re not on thin ice.”

“Heard, Cap.”

“Excuse me, Detective Styles?” A nurse taps him on the shoulder. “You’re listed as Cameron Walsh’s emergency contact, so I’m allowed to give you the particulars of her surgery. Who is this?” She nods towards the captain.

“Our captain, he can listen. She’d want him to.”

“Okay. Four bullets were removed from the body. Two were in her chest, one in her left shoulder, and one was lodged in between her ribs. The doctors were able to get them all out, but she’s in a medically induced coma.”

“What, why?” Harry’s eyes widen with panic.

“She started seizing from the blood loss. The doctors felt it was necessary.”

“So, when will she wake up?”

“When her body lets her. They’re still getting her stitched up and bandaged. They’ll be taking her to a private room shortly. Once she’s set up, I’ll come get you.”

“Alright, thank you.” The nurse walks away, and Harry takes out his phone.

“Are you texting Mark?”

“No.” Harry scoffs. “I’m messaging Reynolds and Miller that Ronnie’s alive.”

“Don’t you think you should contact Mark?”

“I don’t want him here, so no.”

“That’s not up to you. He’s her boyfr-“

“I know what he is.” Harry snaps. “I’m her emergency contact, not him. Get a clue, Cap.”

“That’s strike two, Detective. Check yourself.”

A little while later, Harry rushes to the room that’s been set up for Ronnie. He stops short of the doorway. It’s scary seeing her hooked up to all the machines. He steps in slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed. He takes her hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze. She has a few scrapes on her face, but nothing serious. He looks at how messy her hair is, and it makes him laugh softly.

“You’d hate the way you look right now.” He stands up and pulls an elastic off his wrist. He props her head up just enough so he can pull her hair back into a French braid. “Remember when you first taught me how to do this? Katie was about three, and Kathleen was on vacation with her girlfriends so I was on double parent duty. I was father of the year for being able to braid Katie’s hair the way Kathleen usually did.” He sighs and ties the end of her hair with the elastic and sets her head back down. He pulls a chair up so he can sit by her. “Don’t worry, Ron, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you.”

Five Years Earlier

“Styles, I’d like you to meet your new partner, Detective Cameron Walsh.” Captain Sellers smiles as the other detectives crowd around to say hello.

“I go by Ronnie, hi.” She smiles as she shakes Harry’s hand.

“Nice to meet you. You’re joining us from homicide, yeah?”

“Mhm. I’ve always wanted to work in SVU, so I jumped at the chance when the position opened up.”

“You wanted to add rape and kiddie porn to your murder, huh?” Harry smirks and Ronnie grins at him.

The two clicked instantly. Harry took Ronnie out for a drink that night so they could get to know each other better, and so he could give her some tricks of the trade.

“I’ve been in special victims for four years now. It never gets easier. There’ll be cases you take extremely personally, but you have to try not to. I still do it sometimes, it’s tough not to picture these things happening to your own family and friends. In homicide, all your victims are dead, right? Well, in special victims, more often than not, they’re alive. It’s hard when you have to make someone relive a rape, or having to listen to a child talk about how someone they trusted took advantage of them.”

“You’re saying things I already know. I’ve been trained on all this. I’ve dealt with families and friends of victims. A lot of it is the same. Compassion and relating is important and more effective than accusing the perp.”

“Exactly. You might find yourself having to pretend to agree with a pedophile. It’s the worst, but-“

“It’s worth it if we can get an admission.”

“Yup.” Harry takes a sip of his beer. “Alright, so, what made you want to join special victims? You said you always wanted to work in this unit.”

“I…this is something I didn’t even tell my last partner, but…I feel like we’re really forming a bond here, so…I’m the…product of a rape.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry.” He leans in so he can listen to her better.

“I’m lucky in that my mother didn’t treat me like scum. I know it was hard for her sometimes, but for the most part we had a good relationship.”

“Had?”

“She died last year. Sclerosis of the liver. She coped by drinking.” Harry goes to open his mouth, but she stops him. “Don’t say you’re sorry again, it’s alright.”

“Do you know who your father is?”

“No. When I was younger I wanted to know because I hated that I came from someone that could do something so heinous to someone else, but recently…I don’t know, it doesn’t bother me anymore that I don’t know who he is. I just hope he didn’t ruin anyone else’s life.” She takes a sip of her own drink. “What about you? Why are you in SVU?”

“I sort of just fell into it. I’m tough enough to handle the perps. I’m good with kids. I actually just had one of my own. Well, my wife had her, but you get what I mean.” He takes out his phone to show Ronnie his lock screen. “That’s my wife, Kathleen, and our baby girl, Katie.”

“Oh wow. How old is your baby?”

“She’s six months.” He smiles fondly down at the picture. “Kathleen was my high school sweetheart. We broke up when I served. I was a navy seal. When I came home we got back together and got married. Best decision I ever made. I love being a family man. My household was so fucked up when I was a kid. I like knowing I’m providing a positive environment for my daughter.”

“That’s amazing. How do you make time for them? This job can feel never ending sometimes.”

“You have to build in those boundaries. Obviously we have to keep working until the job is done, but when the captain tells you to go home, just go home. You can’t do your job right if you’re exhausted.”

“True.” She nods.

“Try to do as I say and not as I do. Cap and I butt heads on the regular. I have a temper. Most of the time I can keep it together, but sometimes I lose it. It depends on how much the perp is pissing me off.” He looks her up and down. “Anything else I should know about you?”

“You mean other than the fact that my mother was a rape victim? No, I don’t have any other skeletons.” She smirks, and it makes him laugh.

“I’m glad you can joke about those things.”

“It helps make the job more bearable at times.”

“Sure does.”

The two went on to work very well together. Ronnie got to meet Harry’s wife and baby. Kathleen would often come see Harry for lunch if it was a paperwork heavy day.

After a year on the job together, the two got close. Ronnie was having trouble in her personal life. That is, her love life was nonexistent. One afternoon, when they were sitting in the car as they staked out a perp, Ronnie asked Harry for some advice.

“Can I ask you something personal?” She says.

“Depends on what the subject is.” He says as he continues looking out the window.

“Sex.”

“I’m listening.”

“I can’t get aroused.” She tells him bluntly, causing his head to snap in her direction. “Any time I even think of dating, I talk myself out of it. It’s like…it’s like my mind goes to the worst possible place. I think every man is going to try to take advantage of me, or that they’re playing me, buttering me up. Did you ever have trouble when you first started in special victims?”

“Oh, yeah. I couldn’t get it up for like three months.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Kathleen was ready to kill me. I mean, I’ve got a mouth and hands, but it got to a point where when I’d get between her legs I’d get flashes of the gruesome shit I’d seen.”

“How did you move past it?”

“Talking to Kathleen, and time. When was your last date?”

“I don’t know, a year.”

“You haven’t had sex in a year?”

“I guess not.” She shrugs.

“And you haven’t taken care of things yourself?”

“I told you, I can’t get aroused. I can’t even watch porn anymore because I keep thinking all the girls are underage and are being forced into it.”

“So, nothing gets you even a little wet anymore?”

“Harry.” She sucks her teeth and shoves his shoulder.

“I’m not going to tell anyone, I never tell anyone what we talk about. Partner confidentiality.”

“I’m as dry as a bone.”

“You need to, I don’t know, do something for yourself. Like, light some candles, take a bubble bath, use a new vibrator, or something. Kathleen has this one toy that-“

“I don’t need to know about the toys you and your wife use.”

“You know, Miller is single, and I know for a fact he thinks you’re cute.”

“I know he does, but I don’t shit where I eat.”

“Not even for one night?”

“Nope.”

“I can ask Kathleen if she has any single friends, we could go on a double date.”

“I’m all set.”

“Do you have a problem with my wife all of a sudden?”

“What, no. I just don’t think we should necessarily combine those areas of our lives. You’re always saying it’s important not to bring work home with you. Getting too familiar with your family would be a bit much.”

“Just say you don’t want to hang out with me, I’m a big boy.” He rolls his eyes.

“You’re annoying.” She shoves his shoulder again, making him chuckle.

“In all seriousness, it just takes time. Don’t force yourself. When you feel like giving it a try with someone, you’ll know. You’ll feel that familiar zip of electricity go through you. You’ll be drenching your panties again like you never stopped.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Harry.” She laughs so hard she snorts.

Harry always found a way to make Ronnie laugh.

But things weren’t always so funny. By the time Harry’s daughter was two and a half, Kathleen kicked him out of the house. She was sick of him not putting the family first, and he was sick of her not understanding that with his type of job he can’t always do that. He had been pissy at work for a while, and when he finally snapped at Ronnie while they were working a case, she snapped back when they returned to the squad room.

“Don’t ever talk to me like that again.” She says to him. “I don’t need you making me look bad in front of the perps.”

“Then do your job correctly.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“I was. Whatever your problem’s been lately, get the fuck over it. I’m your partner, don’t treat me like it’s my first day on the job.”

“Kathleen and I separated.”

“What?” Her features soften.

“Kathleen and I separated last month. Not legally, but I’m living in my old apartment that I had been subletting.”

“What happened?”

“I wasn’t being a good enough father and husband, according to her. So, now I get to see my daughter even less.”

“You should ask Cap for some time off. You and Kat have been together forever, you’ll get past this.”

“I don’t know, something’s different this time.” He runs a hand through his hair. “She thinks I prefer spending time here…with you.”

“Oh please.” Ronnie groans. “That’s so cliché. She knows nothing’s going on between us. I’d never break up a family.”

“So if I wasn’t married with a kid you’d be okay with breaking us up?” He smirks, and she shoves his shoulder. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be joking right now. She thinks I have better communication skills with you than with her. But that’s only because any time I’d tell her about what was going on at work she’d stop me halfway through because she didn’t want all the details. Eventually I just stopped talking about work at all. Turns out, we just don’t have anything left to talk about.”

“That can’t be true.” Ronnie frowns.

“I think it is. I just want to do right by Katie, she’s my top priority. That’s the one thing Kathleen and I are agreeing on right now.”

“I hope you know you don’t have to keep something like this from me. I’m not a blabber mouth.”

“I know, it’s just embarrassing. I fucked up, and I didn’t do anything to stop it.”

“This is a tough job, and it’s even tougher to have a family to go home to. I can’t imagine the stress that causes.”

“Every little kid we come across, all I can think about is what if something like that happened to Katie. I won’t be able to protect her forever, and it kills me.”

“Did you explain that to Kathleen?”

“Of course I did! We went to therapy for weeks, but I didn’t say all the things she wanted to hear. She’s done.”

“Let me take you to dinner later. We can hit up the Chinese place, have some drinks, and…just turn our brains off for a while.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Would you rather go home to an empty apartment?”

“No.” He smiles softly. “Alright, Chinese and drinks after work. Thanks, Ron.”

“No thanks necessary.”

Ronnie wanted to jump for joy, which made her feel terrible. She has nothing against Kathleen, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t have feelings for Harry. She knows it’s dumb to fall for your partner, but they spend so much time together. He knows her in a way that no one else does. She loves him. She’s in love with him. She’s not going to press her luck, but maybe after some time without Kathleen, Harry will realize that if he and Ronnie do things right, they could be together. It’s not totally uncommon for detectives to get together, and it’s certainly not against the rules. She catches him looking at her sometimes, she knows this isn’t completely one sided.

Harry got shot. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. But this time around, he realized what was really important to him: his wife and his daughter. After he got out of the hospital, he went home. He just wanted to see Katie. He got to tuck her in and read her a story, and when he was done with that, Kathleen asked him to stay. He wasn’t going to say no to that.

Ronnie can’t read Harry. Which is strange because she can always read him. He’s been antsy lately. He’s constantly checking his phone, his mood goes from hot to cold in seconds.

“Hey, can we talk?” She asks him, and they both go into the bunk room for some privacy.

“What’s up?”

“That’s what I was going to ask you. You’ve been weird lately.”

Harry sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t going to say anything for at least another month, but Kathleen’s pregnant.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“My wife is pregnant.”

“Who’s the father?”

“Um, me.” He says, completely offended.

“How could you be the father? You’re not even living together.”

“That’s the thing, we’ve been working on reconciling.”

“Since when?”

“Since I got shot a few months ago. I went over to see her, and I asked if I could come home. We’ve been going out on dates, doing things as a family again. It’s reignited our spark.”

“So, you got shot, then went and fucked Kathleen?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you guys gonna do?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I just…do you think it’s a good idea to bring another kid into your situation? How long could these good times last? We both grew up in fucked up households, you know how bad it is. Why would you want to put another kid through that?”

“I can’t believe you’re even suggesting Kathleen have an abortion. She doesn’t want that.”

“How do you know? Did you ask her? How does she feel about it?”

“We’ve always wanted more than one kid, of course she’s fine with it. She’s really excited to be pregnant again.”

“Are you two at least back in therapy? I mean, have things changed? Are you being a better husband and father this time around? Or do you only care now because she’s pregnant?”

“Don’t interrogate me, Ronnie.”

“I’m not trying to! But you’re not thinking rationally about this, Harry. Do you really want to make things work with Kathleen after these last seven months?”

“See, this is why I didn’t talk to you about this.” He shakes his head.

“What does that mean?”

“It means, you wouldn’t understand the trials and tribulations of marriage. For fuck sake, Ron, I’m the longest relationship you’ve ever had with a man!” Her mouth falls open at that. “Whatsamatter, baby, you can dish it but you can’t take it?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Oh, you’ve wounded me.” He puts his hand over his heart, mocking her.

“How could you even say something like that to me?”

“It’s the truth. You can’t make any relationship work. I’m the only guy in your life you trust. Maybe you should go to therapy.”

“You know what, from now on, let’s just keep our personal lives private. I won’t ask you about yours, and you won’t ask me about mine.”

“Works for me, partner.”

Ronnie makes an exasperated noise, and huffs out the door. She nearly runs over Kathleen.

“Kat, hi!”

“Hi.” Kathleen smiles softly. “Were you just in there with Harry? Alone?”

“Yeah, we needed to have a private discussion. He told me the good news, congrats.”

“You look thrilled for us.” Kathleen rolls her eyes.

“Look, I’m not saying it’s not a blessing, but I just think-“

“Walsh.” Harry’s low voice bites through the air. “Don’t you have some paperwork you need to get done?”

“Don’t you know you can’t tell me what to do? We’re the same rank, you prick.” She walks away from the two of them. She needs to clear her head.

After taking a month off for paternity leave to help Kathleen with their new baby boy, Harry returns to work. It’s hard leaving his three favorite people, but he knows he needs to get back to SVU. This time around, he’s going to set limits where he can. He’ll take a break to go home for dinner, then come back to work if he needs to. He’s not going to screw this up a second time.

Harry checks in with his captain first thing, then catches up with Reynolds and Miller. He looks around for Ronnie, but she’s not there. He figures she must be out on assignment. But much to his surprise, she comes walking into the squad room with a cup of coffee in one hand, and a man by her side. She’s giggling and has rosy cheeks. The man walks her over to her desk. She sits up on top of it, and he leans down to speak in her ear, making her smile. She nods and kisses his cheek before he leaves. Harry approaches her with a smug look on his face.

“I leave for a month and you already have a new man in your life?” He jokes, and she hops off her desk to hug him.

“Welcome back, Styles.” She gives him one more squeeze before letting him go. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Ron.”

“I’m sorry I never came to the hospital, or to the house…I didn’t want you to think of work while you were away.”

“That’s alright, I’ve got tons of pictures to show you.”

“What’s his name?”

“Eddie.” He smiles fondly. “Edward, actually, but we’re calling him Eddie.”

“I like that.” She smiles.

“So…” He sets his jacket down and loosens his tie a little. “Who’s the guy?”

“He’s our new ADA.”

“What happened to Timmins?”

“She got offered a better salary with homicide.” Ronnie shrugs. “His name is Mark Hayes. We butted heads at the beginning, but we ended up going out for drinks one night and one thing led to another.”

“What happened to not shitting where you eat?” Harry smirks at her.

“I’m not, he’s at a completely different table. It’s not like we see each other all the time. He has other cases he’s working, you know?”

“Isn’t it a conflict of interest for you to see our ADA?”

“We disclosed things with, Cap. We figured all that out. It hasn’t affected either of us at work.” Her cheeks start to redden, and Harry’s eyes widen.

“And after work?”

“I’m sorry, Detective, but I’m afraid that’s diving a bit too deeply into my personal life.”

“Ah.” He nods. “That bad, huh?”

“What?” She laughs.

“If he was any good at fucking you, you’d tell me about it.” He leans his bum against the desk, standing closer to her. “What’s wrong, he can’t make you come?”

“The opposite, actually.” She turns, getting right in his face. “It’s the best I’ve ever had. In fact,” she looks around to make sure no one else is listening, “I’ve recently found out that I can squirt.” She watches as Harry’s eyes visibly darken, his pupils turning into saucers. His jaw clenches and he stands up straight. “Welcome back, partner.”

Flash forward two years later. Harry’s divorced, but still occasionally fucks Kathleen when he’s desperate and just wants something familiar. It’s hard not to get riled up with emotions when he’s over spending time with his kids. Ronnie’s been seeing Mark the entire time. He’s asked her to move in a dozen times at this point, but she always comes up with an excuse as to why she can’t.

Harry and Ronnie are currently sitting in Cap’s office. They think they’re in trouble. For what, they’re not sure, but it’s usually not good when they both get called in for a chat.

“I have an important assignment for the two of you. It’s going to involve being undercover for a bit.” Cap explains.

“Alright, what’s going on?” Harry asks.

“We’ve had a string of strippers getting murdered. They all work at the same club. Narcotics tipped me off. They’ve been working the case because the perp running the entire operation is the one giving the command on which girls are getting tossed. It happens infrequently enough that it hasn’t raised a ton of eyebrows.”

“Is that why we’re just hearing about this now?” Ronnie asks.

“Homicide was taking care of the murders. We’ve only recently found out that the girls that aren’t being tossed in the trash, are being prostituted out and raped. There’s an open position at the club. Ronnie, I need you to go undercover as a dancer. Start off as a bottle girl, but I need you to get into that dressing room and get whatever information you can. Harry, I need you to be her handler.”

“So I have to take my clothes off, and he gets to be my pimp?” Ronnie scoffs.

“I know it’s not the most appealing thing for you, but you’re the only female detective we have that could actually pass as an erotic dancer.”

“Gee thanks.” She rolls her eyes. “I’ll do it, but I’m keeping whatever lingerie I have to buy.”

“Deal.” Cap looks at Harry next. “What do you say?”

“I’ll do it. I don’t trust anyone else to work this with Ronnie. I think Miller’s head would explode if he saw her dressed provocatively.”

“Stop it.” She shakes her head. “When do we start?”

“Immediately.” He hands them each a folder. “That has the information on where you’ll be staying, your new ID’s-“

“We have to stay in the same apartment together?” Ronnie asks.

“Once Harry gets in good with these people, they may come around to check for bugs and wires. It has to look like you both live together.”

“Captain, respectfully, Harry is a slob. I can’t live with him in a…oh my god, this is for a fucking studio?”

“That’s what they gave me funding for, Walsh. I’m sorry it’s not ideal.” Cap says facetiously.

“Is there at least a couch for him to sleep on?”

“Why do I have to sleep on the couch?” Harry scoffs.

“Because you’re not going to be the one sliding up and down a greasy pole every night.”

“Fair.”

“Enough. Go take some time to get familiar with your new identities, and go shop for whatever you may need to make it look convincing. You’ll be staying at your new apartment tonight. Have fun, and try not to kill each other.” He looks at them. “Or…anything else.”

They both roll their eyes at that, and leave the office. Ronnie takes out her phone and calls Mark to let him know what’s going on. He’s up in the squad room ten minutes later.

“How long will you be gone for?” He asks her by her locker.

“I don’t know, it could be weeks…months.”

“Months?”

“These things either happen fast, or they’re really slow. You know that.” She closes her locker and looks up at him. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t the best thing happening right now. But at least we’re not living together, you won’t miss me too much.”

“Don’t use this as an excuse.” He sighs. “Are you at least being given a burner phone so we can still have contact?”

“Yes, but I have to use it carefully. If our place gets bugged or something, it could mean game over. I feel bad for Harry. He barely sees his kids as it is. This is going to be really tough for him.”

“Yeah, Romeo.” Harry says as he opens his own locker. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of our girl.”

“Can you give us a minute, Styles? We’re talking.”

“Mmm, no.” He grins and leans back against the lockers. “No, I think I’ll continue eavesdropping. Kathleen’s bringing the kids by so I can see them before we go, so I’ve got time.”

“Harry.” Ronnie looks up at him with her big brown eyes, and he all but melts.

“Fine, I’ll leave you alone. Oh, when we go to the store to get all your stripper accessories, should we get you some sex toys?”

“Christ, Harry.” She shoves him away, making him laugh.

“Does he always have to be so crude with you?” Mark asks her. “This is the sex crimes division for fuck sake.”

“We do it to each other, it’s just how we work. If we don’t find reasons to laugh, we’d cry.”

“So, we can’t even go be alone for a bit?” He steps closer to her, making her blush.

“I want to…” She looks over her shoulder at the bunk room, then back to her boyfriend. “I should really start briefing myself on this case. I want to check the homicide detective’s notes, see what we’re really dealing with. I’m sorry, Mark. I know…I know this is what makes our relationship difficult.”

“It’s alright, I understand.” He leans in and kisses her, then pecks her forehead. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

While Ronnie is on the computer looking over everything, Harry is talking with Kathleen and the kids. Ronnie can’t believe Katie’s already five, and that Eddie’s already two.

“How long will you be gone for, Daddy?” Katie asks him. She’s got her arms around his neck, her bottom being supported by his hip while Eddie is on his other hip. Ronnie looks away before she has time to fantasize about how strong her partner is.

“Well, Daddy’s not sure. I’m going on a top secret mission, so Daddy won’t be able to see you for a while, but I’ll do my best to call when I can.”

“What about on FaceTime?” Katie looks up at him, pouting.

“We won’t be able to do that, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

“But…but I’m gonna miss you.” Her bottom lip starts to quiver. Harry looks at Kathleen. She takes Eddie from him so he can properly hug his daughter, biting back tears of his own.

“I’m going to miss you too, so much. You have no idea.”

“Why…why do you like being with Ronnie more than Mommy?”

“Katie.” Kathleen says. “Now’s not the time for that.”

“Sweetheart, it’s not that I…Ronnie and I work together, that’s all. She’s going on the secret mission with me. We keep each other safe. And while I’m gone, Mommy will keep you and Eddie safe, alright?”

“Will you miss Mommy too?”

Harry and Kathleen look at each other, and her face flushes from the coy smirk forming on Harry’s face. “Of course I will. I’ll miss you, Eddie, and Mommy very much. I’ll check in when I can, okay? I need you to be a brave, big girl and help Mommy a little more. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s my girl.” He hugs her and gives her a kiss before setting her down. He takes Eddie back and tosses him into the air, making him laugh. “Alright, little man. Need you to be a big boy.” Harry takes Eddie’s thumb out of his mouth.

“Okay.” Eddie says with his precious, soft spoken toddler voice.

“I love you.”

“Wove you too, Daddy.”

Harry smiles at his boy and sets him down. He tells Katie he loves her as well, then looks at Kathleen.

“I know you don’t need me to tell you this, but be careful.” She says to him.

“I like it when you tell me to be careful. It helps having your voice in my head.”

“Come back in one piece.” Her voice cracks as she throws her arms around his neck. He holds her close.

“Don’t cry, it’s going to be alright. I’ve gone undercover before.” He coos into her hair.

“Not like this.” She pulls back from him and pecks his lips before fully letting go. “Check in when you can, like you said.”

“I will. I love you, you know that, right?”

“Yes, and I love you too.” She picks up Eddie and sighs. She and Ronnie make eye contact, but neither of them say anything to the other. There’s nothing to say.

Harry walks around the store while Ronnie picks out clothes to buy. It’s all miniskirts and tight dresses. Then she goes to the lingerie section, and he joins her.

“Would you ever wear any of this stuff for real?” He asks her as he picks up a pair of crotchless panties. “It can’t be comfortable.”

“It’s not. This is stuff you put on when you tell a guy you’re going to slip into something more comfortable.”

“But you just said it’s not comfortable.”

“It’s not, but it’s also not going to stay on for very long.” She grabs a few bras and throws them in her cart. “I have to buy makeup too.”

“Don’t you already own makeup?”

“Yes, but I mostly wear neutral colors, nothing too heavy. I need to get some pallets with more vibrant colors. I need to get fake lashes. Oh! I’m going to need some highlighter.”

“Jesus, this is going to be never ending. I hope Katie’s a tomboy so she doesn’t have to deal with all this.”

“How’s that working out so far?”

“Not great, she’s all about princesses and Barbies right now. It’s actually pretty cute, and she has a wild imagination. I always have fun when we play with her dolls.”

“You play Barbie with her?” Ronnie pouts up at him endearingly.

“Course I do.” He shrugs. “It’s important to spend time doing the things your kid likes to do, rather than dragging them out to do something you want to do. As she gets older, she won’t feel like it’s a chore to hang out with me because she’ll know I’m up for whatever she wants to do. Within reason. I don’t want her thinking I’m going to take her to get a tattoo before she’s eighteen.”

“You’re a really good dad.”

“Thanks. I hope she and Eddie feel the same way.”

“They do, they have to. You’re doing the best you can.”

“Right. Let’s keep shopping. I’m ready to get the fuck out of here.”

The two get all the things they need, and head to their new home for the seeable future. It’s a nice place, but it’s going to be hard for them both to stay in such a small space.

“So, who’s taking the bed for real?” He asks her later that night over takeout.

“I have a proposition.”

“I’m not sleeping foot to face.”

“That’s not what I was going to suggest. I was thinking we could just stick some pillows between us so we can both sleep on the bed.”

“Do we need a barrier at all? I’m not going to try to fuck you while you’re sleeping.”

“Well, obviously, or I’d say you’re in the wrong line of work.” She smirks. “I just want us both to be comfortable.”

“I won’t sleep if I feel like I need to be rigid.”

“Okay, so no pillows.”

“We’re both adults who have shared beds with people before. I think it’ll be fine.”

“What do you usually wear to bed?” She asks him.

“Boxers. What about you?”

“Oversized t-shirt.”

“Well, if anyone busts the door down we’ll at least look the part of a couple.” He takes another bite of food, then sets his container down. “You and Mark have a quickie earlier?”

“No.” She laughs. “We almost did, but I wanted to start briefing myself. I felt bad, but isn’t this more important?”

“You need to find that answer on your own. I’m clearly not the expert.”

“I think you just married someone that bit off more than they could chew. You’ve been in this line of work since you two were married. She knew how hard it was going to be.”

“It wasn’t like this when I was in vice. I had standard shifts, the same schedule for months on end. That worked for us. I don’t blame her…so you shouldn’t either.”

“Sorry.” She swallows down a noodle.

“Why won’t you move in with Mark? An attorney like him should have a great place, definitely one big enough for two people.”

“It’s big enough for more than two people, that’s the problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…he’s been dropping hints about wanting to really settle down together. He wants to have kids with me. I love him, I really do, but I don’t know if I’m the type of person that can handle all those things.”

“You’re great with kids.”

“I know that, but I’d never be around. I’d be working all the time. I’m just not ready for it.”

“Have you told him that?”

“Yes.” She sighs. “But neither of us necessarily wants to break up, so we have a fight once every few weeks, and then we move on.”

“Maybe the time apart will help you both gain perspective on what you really want from each other.”

“That’s sort of what I’m hoping for.” She takes a sip of water, then sighs. “So, what’s our backstory?”

“I’m your pimp.” He smirks.

“You’re my handler, not my pimp.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“No it’s not. A pimp pimps their girls out to have sex with other people. Handlers don’t do that.”

“It’s the same thing, but whatever.” He rolls his eyes. “How should we approach that, by the way?”

“Approach what?”

“You having sex. I don’t want you to get forced into something.”

“I’m supposed to start off as a bottle girl, then work my way up. So I should be fine. Once you get in good with the bosses, you can just tell them they can look, but they can’t touch. I’ll stay focused on getting information from the other girls, you stay focused on gaining the trust of the bosses.”

“Arthur Jones is the guy we’re looking to bring down. He’s the head of the entire operation.”

“We should go there in the late afternoon tomorrow when it’s not busy and see about me getting a job. Do you know which detectives from narcotics are already undercover there?”

“Yeah, Cap texted me who to look for. It’s another guy.”

“Okay, so none of the girls are under cover. Damn, it’s gonna take me some time to become friends with them.”

“Apparently, we have all the time in the world.”

The two clean up from dinner, then take turns washing up before bed. It’s a little awkward when they both slip under the covers, but they’re both able to fall asleep easily.

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