#After all I went through for Mikey I kinda' wanna make a set | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Looking for a Place to Happen 5

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats, coercion, manipulation, trauma, sextoy, recording, anal.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: It was close but y’all wanted more Birch!Sam so here we go. This one is... porn. Let’s be honest lmao.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 5: Come on in, sit right down

💀💀💀

It was a pain you’d never felt before. It was more than physical, it was deep, it was like part of you was missing. Something taken from you. More than just that outdated concept of purity that you never bought into, more so your autonomy. You never felt very in control of your life, trapped in the small town with dreams but now your life was completely out of your grasp.

Sam left late, some time after midnight. It didn’t matter, you still felt him inside of you. You tried to rinse him off of you, out of you, but the shower only left you cold and hollow. You gave up on sleep just after five in the morning and you typed in a trance, barely thinking as your fingers fluttered over the keyboard.

Hours passed like days and you descended as you heard your nan below, the clink of her heavy cast iron pot on the stove. She cooked her oatmeal in it and it was heavy enough to hammer back in the loose floorboard in front of the fridge. She offered you some as you entered the kitchen and you sat at the table with a sigh.

“Is that man coming back?” she asked.

You tilted your head at her as she put a bowl in front of you and the bag of sugar just for you. You sprinkled the brown granules over your oatmeal and added milk, “you looking forward to it?”

“The only reason I didn’t spray Lysol in his eyes was because of you, girly,” she sat heavy with the jar of artificial sugar and the little cinnamon container, “you know I’d do anything to keep you safe even if you’re too dumb for your own good.”

You nodded and scooped up the thick oatmeal. You pushed your tongue through the oats and said nothing.

“I told you to stay away from that bar,” she huffed. The crotchety old lady was back.

“You seemed happy enough about the pie and wine,” you shrugged.

“You think I don’t know his kind. I’m an old lady, that won’t keep him from cracking my skull like poor old Mikey Rae,” she tutted, “that was the first biker I fucked with.”

“Nan,” you gasped at her language.

“Well, you’re an adult now. Gonna have to grow up quick if you messin’ with those boys,” she pointed her spoon at you, “but you say the word and I’ll twist his balls off. Being old only means I gotta be patient.”

You couldn’t help but snicker. You knew she was serious and you realised then that it was all a show. A cautious act that you’d mirrored for her own sake. But this was a problem you had to deal with yourself. The one thing you couldn’t live with was bringing harm to the woman who raised you.

“No ball twisting, nan,” you shook your head, “alright?”

“For now,” she returned, “but you be careful, girly. You’re in deep enough.”

“I know,” you bit the edge of your lip, “nan?”

“Mmm,” she grumbled as she swallowed.

“Mikey Ray, if he was one of them, who bashed him?” you asked.

“The second one, Colin,” she frowned, “cocky bugger, took what he wanted… until he got what he couldn’t handle.”

“And what happened to him?”

It was the most your nan ever told you about those days, more inclined to talk about her hippy festivals and protest arrests.

“I twisted his balls off,” she snickered, “in a manner of speaking.”

You drew your brows together as you watched her take another bite and she opened the pocket book of crosswords she kept on the table.

“In a manner of speaking?” you wondered.

“I plead the fifth,” she took the pencil from between the pages and adjusted her thick glasses, “but he wasn’t around to cause me any trouble.”

You shoved another spoonful into your mouth and sat back. You always thought your nan was a tough old bitch, you couldn’t imagine what she was like when she was your age.

💀

Sam showed up just after noon. You weren’t surprised but you weren’t happy either. You were only thankful he came in the back. You didn’t need Nan following through on her threats and you would rather she didn’t know about the visit. If you were fortunate, she didn’t notice him for her knitting.

He knocked on your door and you unlocked it. He made no move to enter as he twirled your phone between his fingers.

“Charged it last night,” he smiled, “thought we could have some more fun.”

“I’m working,” you said quietly.

“Did I ask?” his lips straightened and he tilted his head, “and it’s about time you came over. Kind feels off with the old lady just on the other side of the wall.” You winced at the memory of the night before. He noticed and chuckled. “Kinda hot too but… still,” he mused.

“You can’t come back later?” you crossed your arms.

“You were so good last night,” he said, “I don’t like this little game you’re playing so don’t make me give the old lady a show. Let’s go.”

You dropped your arms and grabbed your thinner jacket from the back of your chair and shoved your feet into your zip up Martens. He waited with his arm across the open door and you stepped past him as his other hand went to your ass and squeezed. He closed the door and followed you down the wooden steps.

The snow wasn’t as deep as the first fall and you crunched through to the sidewalk. He placed his arm over your shoulders as he ushered you along to the main road. You passed The Asp and cut through the lot as he waved to other members of the club.

“I talked to Bucky, let him know you won’t be an issue any longer,” he said, “right?”

“Right,” you echoed and hugged yourself against the bitter air.

“Aw, honey, don’t worry, we’re about to get you warmed up,” he led you down another side street and up the paved walk of a pale blue house, “this is my place, Chez, uh, Wilson.”

He let you inside and nudged you further in as he followed. You slid out of your boots and he helped you out of your jacket. His impatience showed as he unzipped his coat and tore off his own boots. He took out your phone and grinned.

“Today,” he held it up, “you can get this back… if you earn it.”

You stared at him and picked at the hem of your shirt. His eyes followed the movement of your fingers and he licked his lips.

“Why yes, you can take that off, that’s a great start,” he purred, “all of it.”

You clenched your teeth and gripped the fabric nervously. He shouldered past you and pointed across the front room.

“You can go wait for me in there,” he said, “I’ll be a couple.”

You nodded and made to pass him but he stopped you before you could enter the living room. The place was cozy even if you didn’t want to be there. He bent and turned your face up to kiss you sloppily. He tapped your ass again as he urged you onward.

“Gotta loosen you up,” he taunted, “in more ways than one.”

You continued across the room if only to get away from him, even if it wouldn't be for long. You pushed past the painted door and entered the bedroom. The wall was hung with a large framed diagram of a Harley and another of a bike engine. There was a large poster for the Godfather and a Marvin Gaye album leaned against a retro player. The bed was made and the carpet freshly vacuumed.

You went to the dresser and looked over the dog tags that hung from a miniature statue of David. You looked up at the large mirror over the dresser and you looked as scared as you felt. You gulped down your nerves as he entered and looked away from your reflection.

He had a stool in hand and kicked the door closed. He placed it between the bed and the dresser. He kept his hands on the top and his chest flexed beneath his grey henley. He watched you knowingly and tutted.

“You’re not naked,” he said, “don’t you want this back?”

He let go of the stool and revealed your phone once more. You murmured and lifted your shirt slowly. He went to the dresser and unfolded a small metal tripod and affixed the cell to it. He angled it then slid out the top drawer. You scoffed as he turned around with a large suction dildo and stuck it to the top of the stool, your hands frozen on your open fly.

“Um, what the hell?” you sputtered.

“I think you know what the hell but I’m more than happy to give direction,” he wiggled the dildo and let it wobble as he pulled away.

You gaped at it. You couldn’t fit that whole thing in you. How were you even supposed to get yourself onto that?

“Honey, quit stalling,” he warned as he put his hands on his hips. You blinked at him and scowled, “or we can make a special post for TikTok… but I think it might be against their terms of service.”

You glanced away and pushed down your jeans. You let your socks crumple in the ankles and stood to unhook your bra. He hummed as he moved to lean against the wall beside the dresser and crossed his arms over his chest. You hesitated before you shimmied out of your panties, shying away as you eyed the stool.

“Oh,” he pushed away from the wall and reached into the drawer again. He tossed you a tube and you caught it. Lubricant. “You’re gonna wanna get some of that on there.”

You inhaled deeply and flipped open the cap. You cringed as you hovered the bottle over the tip of the dildo and squirted it onto the silicone. You spread it down the length of the toy and your hand shook. You felt him watching you as embarrassment burned through you.

You finished and capped the lube and set it on the dresser. He nodded to the toy and lifted a brow. You hid your discomfort and approached the stool. You stepped up onto the crossbar and clung to the edge of the seat as you brought your knee up. You felt as if it would all topple as you brought your other leg up.

You shuddered as you felt the tip against your cunt and you reached unsteadily between your legs. You rubbed the head of the toy against your folds to spread the lube and peeked over at Sam.

“Go on,” he ordered, “if you can get that whole thing inside you, I’ll give you your phone back.”

You gripped the toy and pushed it back to your entrance. You lowered yourself a little so it stretched you just slightly. You scrunched your nose at the discomfort and slowly eased further onto it. You got halfway and stopped as you gasped. Your fingers curled around the seat and the toy.

“You’re doing good, honey,” his voice was smoky and you looked at yourself in the mirror. The phone blocked the bottom half of the toy but you could see your cunt around the top.

You bent your knees further and groaned as your walls strained around the dildo. Your eyes watered as it hit your cervix and you arched your back to take it as deep as you could. You cried out as you reached the base.

“Whoa, you really did it,” he mused, “fuck, you look good all stretched out.”

You whimpered and adjusted your legs as you tried not to slip.

“Well, you know what to do,” he motioned up and down with his fingers.

“Please,” you breathed, “I did--”

“Not done yet,” he said pointedly.

You huffed and lifted yourself carefully. You pushed back down and let out a moan as the toy grazed your walls. The fullness was overwhelming, a painful pressure laced with pleasure. You rocked your hips as you moved on your knees and gripped the edge of the stool, mindful not to shake the stool too much.

You closed your eyes as your breath hitched. You needed more. The toy could only do so much as your clit thrummed and the wetness spread down your thighs.

“Mmmm,” Sam came around you and snaked his arm down your front. He pushed his fingers between your swollen folds and circled your bud, “you like that, don’t you, honey?”

You whined as your nerves sparked at his fingertips and you sped up. He planted his foot on the crossbar to keep the stool from tipping and you rode out your orgasm as his touch spurred you on.

“Ah, fuck,” he pressed against your back, “I’m so fucking hard.”

You panted and opened your eyes. You looked at yourself in the mirror but quickly shied away. You were weak, so weak.

He stepped around you and reached for the lube. You watched him as you didn’t move from atop the toy and he rounded you again. He drizzled the lube between your cheeks and flung the lube away. He pushed his fingers along your ass and lingered on your tight ring. You winced and tried to lift yourself off the dildo.

He caught your shoulder and held you down.

“Again,” he ordered.

You glanced at him in the mirror and he gave you a stern look as his fingers tightened around your shoulder. You held your breath and began to fuck the toy again. He nuzzled the back of your head and poked against your ass until his finger slid inside. You cried out and his hand went to your neck as he urged you on.

“Ah, honey,” he whispered against your hair.

He drew his finger in and out of your ass as a burning pressure seared through you and added to that in your cunt.

“You can touch yourself,” he uttered as his fiery breath encircled you.

You did so without thinking. He pushed another finger into you and a squeak escaped your lips. You couldn’t help but delight in how the sensations mingled and bloomed to a new climax. He sped up in time with your hips and your legs shook as you came in a series of strangled mewls.

He kept on until you slowed to catch your breath. He slipped his fingers out of you and your head lolled as he removed his hand from your neck. You heard his zipper and as you looked back, his hand stretched across the back of your head and turned it straight. He bent so his head was next to yours and grasped your chin as he made you look at him in the mirror.

“One more time, honey,” he pulled his dick out and his tip brushed along your ass.

You tried to lift yourself off the toy but he hooked his arm around your middle and kept you on it.

“Sam, no, please,” you begged, “I can’t--”

“You can handle it all, honey,” he purred, “I know you can.”

His tip pressed to your ring as he forced you down on the toy. You exclaimed and he pushed until you stretched around the head of his cock. You gritted your teeth and threw your head back against his shoulder.

He pulled back and pushed in again. He got deeper with each slow thrust, an inch at a time, until you were filled by him and the toy. Your eyes welled and the tears trickled down your cheeks as you held onto the stool and grunted through each tilt of his hips.

He trailed his hand down between your legs and spread your folds as he flicked your clit with his middle finger. He moved you against him and on the toy. He pushed into as the dildo reached its limit and your voice grew louder and louder.

Through the agony, you couldn’t help but feel the unyielding tingle in your core and it crawled down your thighs and up your spine. The stool rocked with his motion but he kept you flush to him as he fucked you from behind. Your legs slipped over the side of the seat and you were impaled on the toy.

He didn’t let up as you gasped and gulped, whining as your cunt twitched around the silicone and you came as you reached back to scratch at his open jeans. He rutted into you without relent as he kneaded your thighs and his breath seared down your flesh.

“Ah, honey,” he muttered through his delighted groans, “goddamn, god-- shit, I’m gonna fill you up.”

He slammed into you as deep as he could and you felt him burst. He gave several long thrusts as rode out his orgasm and groaned. When he stilled he leaned against you and sighed.

“You can have the phone back,” he rasped as he caressed your thigh, “tomorrow.”

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musette-thornsong · 2 years

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TMNT: Pregnant (Raph's P.O.V.) [REVISED]

Raphael and Sakura went through a rough patch in their relationship after a plot by her father was set up to separate them by means of a forced pregnancy while drugged through the son of a mob boss, Roberto (who would forgive his gambling debts if he had his eldest daughter’s hand in marriage). But what seemed like the possible end of their relationship (due to his guilt in not being able to protect her) may come as a shock to everyone or a blessing in disguise….

Warning: Explicit Language

Words: 1,650

It was a cloudy afternoon and Raphael had headed down to the basement saloon below the Vayle mansion belonging to Sakura’s wealthy grandmother. He had just received some shocking news from Sakura after what seemed like a moment of joy became a sudden crash into the void of confusion. He sat at a table where Leonardo and Michaelangelo were making random houses of cards and playing solitaire as all the customers were being served and entertained. Raphael then figured it would be best to break the ice to them while he still could.

Raph: (wears a forlorn expression) I’m having second thoughts

Leo: (sarcastically) About getting your attitude adjusted?

Raph: About going back to New York

Leo: (unconvincingly responds as he continued his activity) Yeah right. Why now all of sudden?

Raph: (pauses for a moment in hesitance before finally responding) …. Sakura’s pregnant

Mikey: (looks at Raph intently alongside Leo) She is?

Raph: (nods seriously)

Mikey: (smiles in mild delight) Huh. So, Angel Face finally bagged a guy like she said. Good for her

Raph: (rolls his eyes at Mikey’s obvious stupidity)

Leo: So, what’s wrong with you, Raph? You afraid you’re gonna miss the baby shower?

Raph: (annoyed) I’m the father!

Leo & Mikey: (both stand at attention in shock whereas Mikey’s playing cards shoot out of his hands into a customer’s face)

Random Customer: (stumbles backwards into a waitress, flying over a random table before crashing to the floor covered in food and mixed drinks)

Meanwhile atop the Vayle Mansion, Bebop and Rocksteady (who recently imposed upon the estate) were making themselves a little too much at home. They had gone to the top roof, discreetly making more mischief by relieving themselves and staining the side walls and window

Bebop: (chuckles) Aw yeah, baby. Make it rain

Rocksteady: Yo, B-buddy. Considering that we’re already imposing on the mistress’s home, don’t ya think it’s kinda insult to injury that we’re wazzing all the side of this lady’s house?

Bebop: (shrugs) Maybe. But who’s gonna know? There’re so many mutants up in this peace she’ll think its any one of the turtles. (struggles to pee a bit) Aww man, who woulda thought being a mutant meant having public piss syndrome like a mo-fo. So be really fuckin’ quiet

Rocksteady: (looks in Bebop’s direction from the weird statement)

Bebop: (shoves Rocksteady’s head back the other way) Eew come on, man. Don’t be staring my dick

Suddenly without warning the roof’s hatch door flies open, knocking Bebop over the edge screaming for dear life. Raphael, Leonardo, and Mikey soon come out onto the roof before shutting down the hatch.

Bebop:(falls over the roof wall, screaming)What the FUUUUUUCCCKK!!!!???

Rocksteady: (grabs Bebop by the ankles, struggling to pull him up) Hang in there, buddy, I gotcha!!

Mikey: Shouldn’t we help that guy in there?

Leo:(blows it off, yelling)Oh, fuck him!!! I wanna know right now. How the fuck did you father a child with a chick who’s not even your fiancé much less your girlfriend anymore?

Raph:(nervously scratches the back of his head)Well…

Mikey:(jumps to a random conclusion)Holy shit! She got pregnant from the toilet seat you jerked off on, dude. I fucking knew it!!

Raph: NO!!!

Leo: Then what!?

Raph: (explains the whole situation) We had sex a few weeks ago on the night we saved her from that sleazy grease-head. Remember when we thought she had been raped while she was drugged and unconsciousness? Well it turns out that wasn’t the case at all. Her sister, Xena, overheard that jerk Roberto and their father talking about how the plan failed but had every intention of using the state of trauma she was in to make her believe she was pregnant. Therefore, she would be guilted in marrying him and get her pregnant for real. That way, her father gets a hold her grandmother’s fortune when she kicks the bucket in order to pay off his debts and leave her family to suffer once again. Then Xena told Sakura and Donnie about the scheme. Though Sakura was in disbelief that her own father would stoop that low, she had Donnie test her just to be sure. And to everyone’s shock, the results showed that the child is mine with no trace of Roberto’s DNA. So, in short, Xena found out the truth, told Sakura and Donnie, Sakura told me, and now I just told you guys

Mikey: (gets a little off topic) Hold on a sec, where did you guys do it?

Raph: Here at the house, in the master bedroom

Mikey: (grossed out) Eeew, dude! That’s her grandmother’s bedroom! Show a little respect, man

Raph:(defensively)Look,she was lost and scared from the trauma that night. She didn’t wanna be left alone so I stayed with her. And there I was, apologizing over and over again because in some way, I felt it was my fault. We talked things over and strangely enough, we reconnected on some level. One thing led to another and we ended up having sex that very night

Mikey: (mind is completely blown from all the piled-on drama) Whoa. One, that’s heavy, Bro. Two, that’s really jacked up!!

Raph: (panics) I don’t know what to do

Leo: What did Sakura say?

Raph: She says she wants to have it

Leo:(disappointed)Oh my God, so you want her to break it off with Roberto and marry you?

Raph:No

Mikey:She’s gonna tell Roberto?

Raph: NO!!

Leo: (confused) Wait a second, then what’s the problem?

Raph: Are you guys that dense?

Mikey: (reassuringly) Seriously, dude. If Sakura isn’t bustin’ your shell about it then what’s the big deal? You can still come back to New York where we’ll resume our lives and help protect the city while she gets married off to a rich guy and live happily ever after.

Raph: (points out the obviously inevitable) Knowing that I have a love child here in Virginia that runs the risk being snuffed out while the only woman I ever loved and her family suffer under a bastard of a father, facing an eternity of misery and torture with a total scumbag!?

Leo: (perplexed) How in the fuck do you always end up in the weirdest love triangles? You’re the most emotionally imbalanced guy we know and you always seemed to either to have a pair of good-looking girls whether its fighting over you or you getting caught up in some weird love triangle.

Mikey: (adds on) Not mention the freakiest looking too.

Raph: Look, you can never tell anyone else about this!

Leo: Who am I gonna tell?

Raph: (sternly) I’m serious, Leo, and not just for me. Sakura says she doesn’t want anyone else to know about this!

Mikey: (confused) Then what’d you tell us for?

Raph: (starts getting angry) Look, you guys have fucked me over in the past! Especially you, Mikey! But this is huge, this is serious! Promise me you will keep your mouths shut. Because if you fuck me over this time, I swear to God, I will beat the shit out of you.

Leo: (unconvinced) Ahaha, you and what army?

Raph: (anger grows ready to burst) I’m serious!

Mikey: (also unconvinced) We’re serious too. You and what army?

Raph: (grabs them by their front gear straps, pissed off) PROMISE ME!!!

Leo:(pushes Raph off them) ALRIGHT!! Get off us, you nut!

Donnie & Sakura: (burst out onto the roof, knocking the hatch door into Rocksteady sending him over)

Rocksteady: (goes over with Bebop, screaming) What the FUUUUUUCCK!!!

Bebop: (holds onto Rocksteady as they topple down the house, screaming until they both landed in the yard) Aaaaaaaaaghh!!!

Leo, Raph, & Mikey: (turn to see Donnie and Sakura appear on the scene, completely immobilized that they may have heard the conversation)

Sakura: (places in her hands on her hips under the impression Raph may have breathed a word about their personal conversation, slightly annoyed)Can I talk to you for minute?

Raph: (snaps out of it, walking to Shari) Um, sure!

Mikey: (suddenly blurts out) May your first child be a masculine child!!!

Donnie & Sakura: (stares in shock and utter disbelief at Raph because of the sudden statement, realizing he betrayed the confidentiality of their secret)

Leo & Raph: (stares at Mikey in shock, feeling betrayed that once again Mikey could not keep his big mouth shut)

Sakura: (suddenly storms back downstairs off the roof, feeling hurt from the lack of trust) Uuugh!!

Raph: (tries to stop her to explain, turning back to Mikey) No wait, Sakura- MIKEY!!!

Leo: (face-palms his forehead at Mikey’s ongoing stupidity)

Mikey: (panics in defense) She was sweatin’ me, man! It just came out!!

Raph: (swings a fist at both of them, missing completely and hitting the brick wall of the rooftop storage room, clutching his fist) OW!! SHIT!!

Leo: (shocked) You swung at us!

Raph: (yells) YA DUCKED!?

Mikey: (shocked as well) Because you swung at us!

Raph: (ignores the pain to go after Shari, racing down the hatch) DAMN IT!!!

They quickly searched for her throughout the house but was nowhere in sight. They raced back down to the basement saloon where Xena was preparing food at the cookout bar.

Donnie: Hey, Xena, did you see your sister?

Xena: No, she just stepped out. Look guys, I need help with the burritos! I can’t wrap very well, and Raphael ate the last pickle!

Raph: You little fuckin’ snitch.

Xena: I’m sorry, Raph. I’m so sorry

The Turtles: (raced out to the driveway trying to catch her as Sakura started her car)

Raphael: (shouts after her) SAKURA!!!

Sakura: (drives off in a rage)

Mikey: Maybe she went to go get a home pregnancy test, just to be sure

Raph: (pissed off with how things spiraled out of control) How the FUCK could this day get any worse!?

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remmushound · 3 years

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Bay/rise 48!! @errorfreak88 @brightlotusmoon @digitl-art-monstr @dakotafinely @selfindulgenz @yarchurr @sprinklestheditty @sententiously-sarcastic

Something was happening. Shredder pulled away from the door with a loud growl but not of anger. It almost sounded as if he was in pain. His hands went up to clutch at his head, his claws curling under his chin and cupping his head in an almost careful cradle. When that didn't help to sooth him, he started to thrash his head with an angry roar, spitting foam and what looked almost like tar as he slammed his full weight against the containment.

The container hardly moved, but Shredder was insistent. He kept rocking and slamming and spinning in circles like he was rabid.

“Uh dudes— is he okay?” Mikey backed away from the container and ran to hide behind Raph, his eyes wide as he watched the struggling yokai.

“What on earth…” Leo narrowed his eyes, his mouth hanging open like a startled frog.

“Not on this earth.” Donnie commented; he had been waiting for so long to say that.

“Donnie!” Leonardo ran to his brother's side, grabbing Donatello and tossing him back to where Krang’s destroyed body suit rested. “Let him out!”

“Are you crazy?” Donnie and Raph cried as one, then immediately glared at each other for copying.

“A little.” Leonardo answered.

Donatello didn't question Leonardo’s order, immediately working to try and free the panicking creature from his trap.

“What are you doing—?! Don’t let him go!” Leo tried to reason.

“Please!” Leonardo ran over to address Leo, taking the massive hands in his. “Trust me!”

Leo stared back at him. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Leo turned back to his brothers with the slightest nod.

“Let him try.”

“What— but Leo!” Donnie tried to argue. “We just caught him; we can’t let him out!”

“It’s his brother in there, Donnie! He gets to call it.”

The doors hissed open. Shredder stumbled out the doors the minute they were wide enough for him to fit through, and though the bigger brothers immediately braced themselves for what they saw as an inevitable attack, Shredder stopped the minute he got into open ground and could collapse in on himself, the black-as-ink substance leaking from every part of him and spilling out into the technodrome.

Mikey looked down and found it pooling around his feet, immediately pulling away and trying to kick himself free, though it stuck with him stubbornly. “EW! I stepped in Shredder goo!”

Shredder clawed at his eyes and mouth, his own claws leaving deep gashes in the armor that only served to spill more of him out of it.

“What is this stuff?” Michelangelo whimpered as he climbed on top of Draxum to get away from the spill.

“It’s the Oni magic…” Draxum said. He looked back up at Shredder. “He’s dying.”

“What’s gonna happen?” Donatello asked.

“I don’t know…”

With a final, piercing cry of a creature's final breath, Shredder screamed to the sky and then collapsed. The minute he crashed, his armor split and fell apart, leaving Raphael in the middle of the pile. A second of stunned silence passed before the armor started to drift up, one piece at a time, and fate away into nothing. No— it took Leonardo a second to realize— not nothing. It turned into something new.

From each armor was birthed a cloud of pink petals carried on a wind no one else could feel. Raphael flipped over to witness the event as it unfolded, and for a second he was almost certain the petals shifted into a human figure staring down at him. The phantom was gone the next second, drifting away in the breeze and following the rest of the petals through an air duct and out to God-knows-where.

“Wow.” Mikey looked down at his now-clean foot, then back up to where the pedals disappeared. For a second, he had been sure he felt the tickle of someone there— someone free from a massive weight that had bore down on them. He was certain he must have felt it, and then he was certain he had simply made a mistake because he didn't feel it again. “Well, that was unexpected.”

“The hell happened?” Raph growled.

“I… guess we won?” Donnie offered with a shrug.

“He left.” Michelangelo said softly.

“RAPH!” Leonardo was the first to run to Raphael, wrapping the snappers head in his and hugging the massive weight against his plastron. Raphael gave a startled yelp, but then fell to laughter at Leonardo’s slick and almost slimy touch. He grunted twice more when he felt the soft and leathery Donatello wrap his arms around Raphael’s carapace, careful of the bandages that were quickly coming unwrapped, and as he felt the rough and thick skin of Michelangelo as the box turtle hugged his side. Then the soft and squishy touch of April came as she wiggled her way under Leonardo to hug Raphael’s belly, and lastly the sharp prickle of Yoshi’s bristly fur as the rat took his sons hand and hugged it tightly.

It took Raphael a second to react, but when he did it was to stand up, carrying every member of his family either in his arms or on his shell, and hug them with all the force of a friendly grizzly bear. He nuzzled each of them in turn and when he got to Yoshi his tears were wiped, but they proved to be flowing too heavy and thick for Yoshi to stop the flow completely.

“There there… it is alright…” Yoshi reached up to plant a gentle kiss on Raphael’s cheek, which the rest of his family hurried to follow. “You are safe…”

“I… I…” Raphael shook his head as he tried to make the words come out, but all that happened was more tears and a weak whimper as he buried his face once more in the shelter of his brother’s chest.

“It’s alright, big guy!” Leonardo tried to comfort, “Seriously, if you keep crying anymore, we’re gonna drown!”

Donatello gave a sigh and pulled a tiny cocktail umbrella from his tool belt, holding it above his head to block himself from Raphael’s tears. Michelangelo kept nuzzling his beak and cheek into Raphael’s hardened biceps, while April just held on tight for dear life refusing to let go.

Draxum cleared his throat from behind them, and when they turned, they were faced with Draxum holding two sets of weapons. Two Tonfa and a kusari-fundo. Michelangelo gasped and ran to Draxum, taking the weapons from him with a happy squeal.

“Our weapons!” Michelangelo hugged Draxum tightly, burying his face in the boneplates of Draxum’s chest. “Thank you Draxum...”

He hugged Draxum a moment more before running off and returning to his brothers, giving Raphael his Tonfa back and earning another hug.

“Master Draxum?” Cassandra asked softly, finally removing her hood and mask.

“Yes, Cassandra.”

“I don’t understand...” she said softly, “are we friends with the turtles now...?”

Draxum looked back at her most curiously. “Do you want to be?”

Cassandra looked to the reunited clan. They were hugging each other and kissing and they seemed so happy to be back together! Cassandra thought it over for a short moment in her mind.

“Yeah... I think I do.”

“H… how long was I out?” Raphael asked. It couldn’t have been for too long— his brothers looked unchanged— and they were still in the technodrome…

“Just a few hours! No biggie!” Leonardo laughed, putting his hands on his hips after giving Raphael a final pat on the head.

“A f… few hours?” Raphael whimpered, “It felt a lot longer than that… it felt like…” Raphael looked down at his hands. They were shaking and though he put conscious effort into trying to stop them, they only started shaking worse.

“Hey, hey…” Leonardo put a hand on Raphael’s shoulder and squeezed him to bring him back to reality before falling into another tight hug. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters…”

“B… but… but how… who… how did you…?”

“It was Leo’s plan.” Donatello said, “You know Leo’s always been good at that kinda thing.”

“Leo… led you guys?”

“I wouldn’t really say led.” Leonardo motioned vaguely, “More like… uh… well, yeah, lef I guess is… the word.”

“Oh…” Raphael frowned and hung his head.

“Hey…” April gave Raphael a pat on the back, “Let’s get you back to the lair, big guy. Let the doc’s check you up.”

“Right…” Raphael got to his feet and almost immediately Donnie descended upon him, flicking down his goggles to read Raphael’s vitals.

“How strange. From what I could see, the armor locked into you with Shredder— I was expecting some fractures, gashes, cuts, something, but… now you don’t seem hurt at all. Actually, you look almost better than you did when you went in!”

“Yeah! How come he’s not all withered and old like Draxum was?” Michelangelo pouted.

“He’s a mutant, Michelangelo. And he has hamato blood. I have neither of those things.” Draxum answered. “It was foolish of me to think I could wear the armor in the first place…”

Leonardo didn't immediately follow his brothers, and neither did Leo. Both spent the longest time just watching their families walk away.

The bay brothers were in the back, straying a little behind the hyper, younger brothers to watch curiously as they went by before following.

“You sooooo have to teach us how to do that glowy thing when we get home!” Michelangelo cheeped from beside Raphael.

“Er. Glowy thing?”

“You know— how you broke through Draxum’s vines! And your chest was all glowy...?”

Raphael held a hand to his chest with a soft whine. “I don’t remember any of that...”

“You sure you don’t wanna scounge for some tech-whatever?” Raph asked Donnie, “I mean—ain’t like Krang’s gonna need it anymore."

“Quite frankly, Raphael, I would be happy if I never see this place ever again.” Donnie answered.

“Speak for yourself…” Donatello gave an evil grin as he rested his head on his bundle of stolen tech, wrapped up in the black suit he was once wearing.

“When did you have time to get that?” Michelangelo asked, his eyes going wide.

“Othello Vohn Ryan makes time!”

Raph laughed and shook his head at Donatello’s antics. He tried to lean over to give Mikey a hug.

Mikey flinched away quickly, his eyes going wide a moment while Raph eyed him with a slight tilt of his head. Mikey gulped. His chest started to feel tight again and he looked to Michelangelo for encouragement. Michelangelo was already looking back at him and gave an urging smile and nod that made Mikey take a deep breath and stop to address Raph.

“I… don’t really want a hug right now. Turtle power…?” Mikey smiled and held out his fist to Raph, his eyes almost pleading.

Raph was still at first, but then gave a jovial laugh and met the fist bump eagerly. “Turtle power!”

Leonardo jogged over to be with Leo. “Wanna talk?”

“Was it that obvious” Leo gave a weak laugh.

“Eh. I can just read people well.” Leonardo smiled and nudged Leo in the side.

Leo moved away from the touch with a slight scowl but made no comment on it.

“What you wanna talk about avocado head?”

Leo narrowed his eyes, but once more bit back a retort. “I wanted to apologize.”

“What for?”

Leo blinked, and for a moment he stuttered before he was able to speak more clearly. “I apologize for the way I have acted against you and your brother. Agitating you and… and yelling and… you still saved my family just now. Sorry— I’m not good at apologies.”

Leonardo laughed and gently bumped his fist against Leo’s shoulder. “Hey, no problem! Thanks for apologizing though. When we get home, I can tooooootally deck us out with food and drink of choice.”

“You’re… not mad?”

“Life is too short to hold grudges. No bad blood, right hermano?” Leonardo smiled and held out a hand to his counterpart.

Leo stared at Leonardo for the longest time before a smile finally crept its way into his face and he met the fist bump readily.

“No bad blood.”

"But I will hold this against you in any future arguments, FYI." Leonardo winked, "I never miss an opportunity to diss someone on past mistakes!"

Leo laughed and shoved his counterpart away from him, but Leonardo bounced right back and tried to slam his full weight into Leo to push him back, to no result.

"Hey! That's no fair!"

"Life ain't fair, Nardo!" Leo said, "Get used to it!"

37 notes · View notes

calpalirwin · 3 years

Text

Painted Pink Room

A/N: @talkfastromance4 mentioned that a part 2 to this would be cool and I had some ideas for it, so here we are.

Word Count: 2.3k

And away, and away we go!

It took a month for McKenna to finally sleep through the night in her own room, not that Calum and Luke minded in the slightest. Nap time was fine, but there was something about sleeping in the dark alone, even with the aid of a nightlight, that sent McKenna scurrying into bed with her dads every night.

So when Calum rolled over one morning and found empty space before his hand smacked into Luke’s arm, he shot awake. “Where’s Mack?!”

Luke mumbled angrily in his sleep. “Shh, Cal, I’m sleeping…”

“And Mack is missing!”

That got Luke’s attention, blue eyes snapping opening. He sat up straight, throwing back the covers. “What do you mean she’s missing?!”

“Do you see her in here?! Did she sleep in her own bed all night?”

“She better have otherwise she might be actually missing…”

Both men jumped out of bed and raced down the hall to McKenna’s room. And found her peacefully sleeping in her bed, Duke and Petunia curled up on the floor next to her. “How is she still asleep?” Luke asked in a whisper.

Calum shrugged, checking the time on his phone before groaning. “Probably cuz it’s five in the fuckin’ morning…”

“You woke me up at five in the morning because Mack was asleep in her own bed?!”

“I panicked, okay?! She’s never spent the whole night in her room before, what was I supposed to think?!”

“Sssshhhhh!” Luke shushed, gesturing for them to leave the room. “You wanna wake her up, or go back to bed? I, for one, vote for going back to bed.”

Calum yawned, agreeing with Luke that more sleep was needed. “Hey, Lu?”

“Yeah?”

“She did it. Whole night in her own room,” he smiled in pride.

“Yeah,” Luke matched Calum’s grin for a second. “But I’m kinda gonna miss her elbow in my ribs.”

“Yeah. Me too…”

And as much as they missed the little body squeezed in next to them, they did enjoy the extra uninterrupted hours of sleep. They also enjoyed McKenna tiptoeing into the room with both dogs at her side to wake them up, asking for breakfast.

~~~

“Alright, little miss, how do we want our hair today?” Calum asked her after Luke helped her get dressed. “Up or down?” He swung her up and sat her down on the bathroom counter, spinning her around so they both faced the mirror.

“Up!”

“Ponytail, braid, or bun?”

“Tail!”

“Great choice!” Calum grinned before setting to work, taking in pride at how well he’d learn to do her hair over the past handful of weeks. “Did Daddy tell you what we’re doing today?”

“‘Ool?” she asked, cocking her head to the side and turning a little.

“Gotta sit still for me, darling.” He gently set her straight again. “But, yeah, you’re right. We’re gonna go swimming today. Do you know why?”

She thought about it for a second, her little face scrunching in the mirror.

“You know you scrunch your face just like Daddy when you’re thinking,” Calum noted.

“Like Daddy?” she asked, scrunching her face more.

“Just like him.”

“Eyes like Papa!”

“Yep, eyes just like mine,” Calum smiled at her. “Can you remember why Daddy said we’re swimming today?”

“No.”

“It’s because we’re meeting some friends today!”

“Fwends?!”

“Yeah! Uncle Ashton and Uncle Mikey are gonna come over, so you can meet them and your cousin Wyatt.”

“Wots of fwends!”

“A little bit, yeah. But they’re excited to meet you.”

“Me?!”

“Yes, you! So, what do you say? Wanna go swimming with your new friends today?”

“Yes!”

“That’s my girl! C’mon, let’s go find Daddy.”

~~~

There was a small downside to having told McKenna that friends would be coming over to swim. It was the fact that she had very little concept of how time worked. So any sound of a car driving past was met with an excited gasp of “Fwends?!” and Calum and Luke having to shake their heads and go, “No, Mack. It’s not time yet. We have to have lunch and a nap first.” A cycle of conversation that repeated on an endless loop even after lunch had been eaten and the nap had been taken.

“Seriously, where the fuck are they?” Luke asked in a low, aggravated tone.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Calum replied in a similar tone, huffing and pulling out his phone. Then he sighed in relief, flashing the message at Luke. “On their way. 5 minutes ago.”

“Which means they should pulling up any-”

“Fwends?!” McKenna interrupted as a car turned into the drive.

“That better fuckin’ be them,” Luke grumbled, marching for the door and pulling it open. “Hey, ya made it!” he hollered.

Ashton laughed as he slung a bag over his shoulder. “Sorry mate. Someone took forever to go down for a nap.”

“S’alright. Still got most of the afternoon. How long can these two swim for anyhow?” Calum pointed out, stepping onto the porch next to Luke with McKenna at his side. “Look, Mack, our friends are here! You wanna say hi?”

McKenna peered around Calum’s leg over at Ashton and Michael, her eyes wide. “Big wike you…” she whispered.

Calum laughed. “Yeah, Uncle Ashton and Uncle Mikey are big like me and Daddy. But look! Wyatt’s little like you.”

“Hey, McKenna,” Michael said, crouching down in front of her. “I’m Mike, and this is Wyatt. Wyatt, do you wanna say hi to McKenna?”

“Hi,” the little boy said, before glancing up at Michael, and whispering “Swimming now, Daddy?”

“You don’t wanna say hi to your uncles first?” Michael whispered back.

“Oh…” Wyatt turned his attention to Calum and Luke. “Hi.”

“Hey, bud,” Luke chuckled. “Mack, they said hi. Do you want to say hi back?”

“Hi…” she offered up shyly.

“How ‘bout we hit the pool, yeah?” Ashton asked, trying to steamroll through the shy hellos.

“Great idea!” Luke agreed. “C’mon, Mack, let’s go get your swimsuit on.”

“Otay!”

From there, conversation flowed much more fluidly as the four men leaned against the pool walls, chatting about work ideas while McKenna and Wyatt splashed about on the steps, engaging in their own imaginary play and toddler babble. “So how are you guys adjusting and everything?” Ashton asked once they’d worn down work ideas.

“Fine I guess,” Luke said with a shrug.

“Yeah. She actually slept the whole night in her own bed last night,” Calum added.

“Shit, that’s a huge step. Have you reached the tantrum stage yet?” Michael asked.

Calum and Luke looked at each other and shook their heads. “No,” answered Calum. “She gets whiny and pouts about things sometimes. But no major meltdowns so far.”

“But don’t jinx us,” Luke added with a laugh.

Just then there was a particularly loud splash and all of them turned as Wyatt came up sputtering, before letting out a scared wail. “Whoa!” Ashton rushed, stepping over and helping Wyatt back up on the step. “Deep breath. You’re okay. What happened? Did you slip?”

“She! Pushed! Me!” he continued to cry, pointing at McKenna who scowled at him.

Calum grabbed McKenna, pulling her away from Wyatt before setting her on the ledge in front of him. “Did you push Wyatt?”

She nodded.

Calum sighed. “Why?”

“He mean.”

“He was mean to you?”

“Uh-huh.” And to demonstrate, she dipped her hand in the water and splashed Calum in the face.

“Hey!” Calum said sternly, grabbing her hand. “We don’t splash people in the face. That’s not nice.”

“He did!”

“Oh…” Calum said in understanding. “He splashed you in the face so you pushed him?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, but we don’t push people, darling. That’s not nice either. If you have a problem, you come get me or Daddy, okay?”

“Otay…”

“Okay. So what do we say when we’re mean to someone and hurt them?”

“Sowwy…”

“Don’t say sorry to me. Say sorry to Wyatt.”

“Sowwy ‘Ayatt…”

“It’s otay,” he sniffed.

Ashton and Calum set both kids back to play before making their way back over to Michael and Luke. “So what happened?”

“I think Wyatt accidentally splashed her in the face and she got pissed, so she shoved him,” Calum recapped.

“So we’re raising a vigilante? Cool,” Luke laughed. “Good to know.”

“Shut up, it’s not funny,” Calum scolded.

“Eh,” Michael shrugged. “In all fairness there’s a 50/50 shot that Wyatt splashed her on purpose.”

“That’s true,” Ashton nodded. “Tried to break the habit about a billion times, but hey, maybe he just needed to get shoved to make the lesson stick ya know? They’re kids. No one got hurt. That’s what matt- Wyatt James, don’t splash her.”

Wyatt’s hands were poised in the water, ready to splash at McKenna again. He giggled, not thinking Ashton was serious and gave McKenna a face full of water. On instinct, she shoved him off the step again.

“Dude, what did I just tell you?” Ashton groaned as he went over to get Wyatt.

“Alright, we’re done,” Calum said, following Ashton to collect McKenna. “That’s enough swimming for the day.”

“Good call,” Ashton nodded.

“Papa, no!” the toddlers shrieked as they got taken out of the water.

“Yeah, I bet you’ll listen next time then, huh?” Ashton asked.

“Papa!” Wyatt continued to sob as Ashton wrapped him in a towel and sat with him in a chair. “I… wanna… swim!”

“Me too!” McKenna hiccuped.

“Maybe later. Right now we’re taking a break,” Calum told them both.

“Daddy!” McKenna cried.

“Oh, you’re mad at me so you want Daddy? Alright, see how far you get,” Calum chuckled, as Luke and Michael made their way over to the rest of the group.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” Luke asked, taking McKenna from Calum.

“Swim, pwease?”

“Nope. We’re all taking a break.”

She let out a loud cry, burying her head into Luke, who reached over to shove Michael. “I told you not to jinx us, ya cunt.”

Michael laughed, “Wait til she has a tantrum over something completely ridiculous.”

The men continued to talk, while whispering small assurances to the toddlers that “It’s alright. You’re fine,” until the hiccuped sobs turned to soft sniffles.

“You understand why Papa had you take a break?” Michael spoke softly to Wyatt. “We don’t splash people in the face.”

“Accident…”

“The first time, maybe it was. But the second time we all watched you. Papa even told you not to, and you did it anyway. That’s why McKenna pushed you, and that’s why we all had to take a break.”

“Oh… Sowwy…”

“Not to me. To McKenna for splashing her, and to Papa for not listening.”

“Sowwy Papa.”

“Thank you, bud,” Ashton smiled at his son. “I love you.”

“Wuv you. Sowwy, ‘Kenna.”

“It otay.”

“What else do you say, sweetheart?” Luke guided. “Papa already warned you about pushing people the first time, that’s why you had to take a break.”

“Sowwy ‘Ayatt.”

“It’s otay.”

“Daddy?” McKenna asked, tracing her fingers over Luke’s painted nails.

“What’s up, sweetheart?”

“Dis pwetty.”

Luke waggled his fingers. “They are pretty, huh?”

“Mhm. Mine wike dat?”

“Yeah, we can get your nails painted.”

“Me too?” Wyatt asked, perking up.

“If you want, bud, sure,” Michael nodded, before directing his attention to Calum and Luke, “You guys got nail polish? We can do it now.”

“Yeah, we got a whole bunch,” Calum answered. “I’ll go get the stuff. Lu, you wanna get her changed out of her swimsuit?”

“On it.”

Fifteen minutes later found the group hunkered down in the living room, nail polish bottles scattered on the coffee table while little fingernails were swiped with pretty colors. “Tada!” Luke cheered as he capped a bottle of bright red polish. “Look, your nails are just like mine, now.”

“Papa too!”

“Oh, I dunno. Does Papa wanna match with us?” Luke asked Calum, waving the bottle back and forth.

Calum looked at his nails, and shrugged. “Eh, fuck it. Go ahead.”

“You want the red, or do you want your usual black?”

“Red’s fine.”

“Alright, Mack, you wanna help me paint Papa’s fingers?”

“Yeah!”

“Careful not to smudge hers,” Calum warned lightly as he settled back, giving Luke one of his hands.

Carefully, Luke held his own fingers over McKenna’s on the brush to guide her as she painted Calum’s nails for him.

On the other side of the coffee table, Ashton was blowing on Wyatt’s fingers to help the glittery purple nail polish dry. “You know, Daddy used to have hair kinda like this.”

Wyatt looked over at Michael and laughed. “Daddy hair purple!”

“My hair was lilac, not purple,” Michael corrected as he swiped black nail polish across his own nails.

“Not the lilac. The…” Ashton snapped his fingers as he thought. “Fuck what was it? It was like purple, blue, and black all at once.”

“Galaxy. Yeah, that one was fun.”

“Probably my favorite hair color of yours honestly,” Calum told him.

“Yeah, you ever gonna dye your hair again, Mike?” Luke asked.

“Maybe when you finally decide to dye yours.”

“I did dye my hair!”

“You’re blonde, and you dyed your hair more blonde. Doesn’t count.”

“How does that not count?!”

“Cuz you gotta dye it another color.”

“It was another color!”

“No, it was a different shade. Not the same thing.”

Luke made sputtering sounds of disbelief. “Cal! C’mon, tell Mike it’s the same thing.”

Calum snorted. “I’m with Mike on this one. Dying your hair a different shade, isn’t the same as dying it a different color.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Not if that side’s wrong, I’m not.”

“You’re an ass for 1. And for 2, your nails are done.”

“Very pwetty,” McKenna beamed, proud of her handiwork.

“Thank you very much, darling,” Calum said, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Now we all match. Me, you, and Daddy.”

Tag List

@aquarius-hood1996 @creator-appreciator @philthepegacorn @myfavfanficsever @cxddlyash @youngblood199456 @stormrider505 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @hoodhoran @metalandboybands @maybeememez @major5sosstan @1weekago @kaitieskidmore1

#painted pink room #calum hood #calum hood fic #luke hemmings #luke hemmings fic #calum hood x luke hemmings #dad!cake #dad!sos #5sos #calpal irwin

20 notes · View notes

inkribbon796 · 3 years

Text

Not So Baby Brother

Summary: Tubbo is trying desperately to bury his past, if only everyone around him wasn’t interested in digging back up in front of him.

A/N: Warning for hinted child abuse and endangerment. Both to Tubbo, Puffy, Schlatt, and to Michael. I try to keep the majority of it off screen or undetailed but it’s still there. These events coupled with his time with the SMP makes Tubbo in this AU who he is in the present. Which is emotionally withdrawn and prone to pushing people away.

Tubbo in the first flashback was about four, while Schlatt and Puffy were about 10.

~::~ 13 Years Ago ~::~

Tubbo was in his bed, hiding under the covers, hands over his ears as he heard the arguing and smashing of things across the house. The little four year old was so scared and he didn’t know what to do.

Then his door opened and Tubbo hiccuped in fear. He tried to stay quiet and still, hoping that if he did the person would just leave him alone.

A hand came down where his shoulder was.

Tubbo flinched.

“Tubster? You awake?”

The little boy let out a breath of relief, it was his big brother. Still scared, Tubbo peeked his head out from underneath the covers to see both his siblings there: Schlatt and Puffy.

Schlatt looked bad but he still smiled at Tubbo. “Hey don’t cry, c’mere[1].”

Tubbo was already crawling his way over to Schlatt and crying, and he couldn’t stop.

“C’mon,[2] you know what he’s gonna[3] do if he catches you crying,” Schlatt tried to calm him down.

Puffy came to sit next to them, her own eyes wet. Schlatt slightly rocked Tubbo to try and comfort him.

“Hey, T-Man,” Schlatt tried to soothe him. “Kinda[4] loud isn’t it?”

“We’ve got you,” Schlatt held Tubbo tightly, the younger brother still shaking and sobbing. “I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”

Tubbo nodded his head, clutching onto his brother. A little embrace of safety for a young boy whose life was so turbulent and scary. Tonight nothing would hurt, and that was what mattered to the young boy.

~::~ Present Day ~::~

“I was just thinking about it Tubbo . . . we like to have fun.”

“Schlatt, I can’t get out.”

“I know what you’ve been up to.”

“Uh, what have I been up to?”

“Everyone knows what you’ve been up to!”

“Do you know what we do to traitors, Tubbo?”

“. . . No?”

“Techno, you wanna come up here for a second?”

“Let’s just send a message, real quick.”

“Techno, if you would be so kind.”

“Murder him right now, on this fucking stage, and make it hurt!”

“Tubbo, I’m sorry, I’ll make it quick.”

“Techno, what the hell!”

“Wilbur!”

Tubbo shot up in bed, his eyes wild and heart racing. He was disoriented at first, expecting himself to be in some hole somewhere, still in pain after pulling himself together from a discorporation and desperate to escape before Schlatt found him again.

Tubbo surged out of bed, trying to get away.

Then he heard ruffling behind him and disgruntled child sobs.

And Tubbo came back to himself, he looked back to see Michael crying and Ranboo sitting up in his own bed. Tubbo mentally chastised himself.

“Mikey? Daddy’s sorry, did I wake you up?” Tubbo walked back to his bed, his pace quickening when Michael reached up and made grabby hands towards Tubbo.

Ranboo was already getting out of his bed and walking over to them. He looked like he was going to collapse in a heap of limbs on the floor. “Hmmm,” Ranboo hummed.

The two-toned teen stopped right outside the bed and gestured with his tail, “Can I join?”

Tubbo scooted over a bit, and Ranboo sat down as Tubbo tried to rock and soothe their adopted son. Ranboo making little cooing and odd vwoop noises, while Tubbo was humming some lullaby, that helped Michael fall back asleep with the familiarity.

A little family the two teens had carved for themselves.

Tubbo and Ranboo had found the small boy thrown away by some demon hunter as a “disappointing failure” and after Tubbo left Ranboo to tend to the scared and crying boy, Tubbo went to “fetch the adoption papers” and the mage was never seen again. Ranboo didn’t question what Tubbo had done but they took the boy, bundled him up in Tubbo’s jacket and got the boy some food before taking him into the Bee ‘n Boo before spending the next couple hours finishing the attic store room and Ranboo used their downstairs storage for all the establishment’s storage.

That day Ranboo busied himself around their bed and breakfast as Tubbo kept the boy entertained and fed. Michael immediately bonded with Tubbo, and Ranboo found himself falling in love with the boy as well.

The attic was immediately barred from all entry that wasn’t either of the owners. Tubbo made the announcement and was very firm. Beforehand it was frequently used as a temporary living space for Ranboo and Tubbo and they just didn’t want anyone in their personal space anymore.

Which was true but now Michael was there and Tubbo desperately didn’t want people like Quackity and Techno to find out about Michael quite yet. The boy had been through enough and . . . Tubbo wanted a little slice of peace.

He didn’t think that was too much to ask.

Right?

And it certainly didn’t help that bonds and possessions were treated like weaknesses to be exploited and used as currency. Sapnap and Dream had long since set a precedent for that.

So as Tubbo sat in the dark attic bedroom, holding his son in his arms, he pushed down his fear and focused on Michael, who needed him right now.

Soon the little boy was back asleep, tucked back into bed, and Tubbo threw up his arms. He got up because, after his nightmare, there was no way he was getting back to sleep.

So Tubbo changed into his suit and made sure he wasn’t wearing his horns before he left to go down to the staff lounge for a coffee.

“Tubs,” Ranboo called out, shifting in his suit and looking human. “You okay?”

“Yeah, go back ta[5] bed, bossman,” Tubbo dismissed.

“You sure, you’ve got a big day, and we got a lot to do here,” Ranboo looked uneasy.

Tubbo didn’t trust his voice at first, but when he did he told him, “Go back ta[5] bed. I’m grabbing a coffee.”

“Oh, okay,” Ranboo looked away and slowly went back into the room. Tubbo knew he wasn’t going to go back to sleep. But at least it gave Tubbo time to clear his head.

After three coffees, four hours of paperwork, and bullshiting around with Tommy for a bit; Tubbo was overjoyed to put on his Bomble Bee costume and start running around town with Tommy like a maniac.

It was freeing, the suit went on and he wasn’t Tubbo anymore. He was free.

Logic and Jackie were less than enthused to find them by themselves, and Tubbo didn’t appreciate the babysitter, but at least Logan didn’t talk down to Tubbo during it.

They went on a patrol around Brighton, and they were halfway through when Logan brought something up, “You have a sister?”

Tubbo flipped up his visor to glare at Logan, “Thought we agreed family wasn’t shit?”

“There was no agreement on that matter, that was merely a comment you made,” Logic sighed. “If you feel unsafe around your blood related family that is one thing, but demon magic or not you are still underage and the Coalition is bound to follow the law as far as it is actually protecting people.”

“I legally emancipated,” Tubbo countered, flicking his visor back down. “Tommy’s an idiot who doesn’t know how ta[5] do shit. I don’t need anyone ta[5] sign anything fer[6] me.”

“Do you have copies of those legal documents?” Logan asked.

“Yeah, at the BnB,” Tubbo told him. “You wanna pop on over?”[7]

“There’s no rush at the moment, you can email me those tonight when you get home,” Logan offered Tubbo an out. “However, I would like to know the nature of your relationship with your family. You don’t need to go into detail, I trust you had your reasons for emancipation if that was the route you chose to follow.”

“Don’t talk with my parents, if you can call ‘em[8] that, and I haven’t fer[6] years, I only really talk ta[5] my older sister?” Tubbo told him. “She lives in Gainesville with her girlfriend.”

“Are you on good terms with her?” Logan asked. “I wouldn’t want you in communication with someone who is hostile emotionally or physically to you or your family.”

“Nah, she’s alright, she’s part ‘a[9] the Server though, you wanna[10] meet her?” Tubbo smiled.

Logan thought on that, “We might want to send some kind of warning if we go over. Last I checked, several of them had sent me death threats. Does your sister know you’re working with us?”

“Oh yeah,” Tubbo lifted himself up with his bumble bee wings, looking quite proud of himself. “I got several pissed off texts from some ‘a[9] the guys after they saw me an’[11] Big Man on the news. It was great, Quackity screamed at me fer[6] at least five minutes.”

“Are you certain you will be safe when you visit your sister?” Logan asked again.

“Oh yeah,” Tubbo promised. “Come on.”

The logical Side continued to ask questions, letting Tubbo use his phone to send a supervised text to his sister: Puffy. Then they started making their way over.

When they got to the condo Puffy lived at, Tubbo didn’t even knock. In fact he practically kicked the door open.

“Puffy!” Tubbo cupped his hands over his ears and called into the townhouse, calling out at the top of his lungs. “You fuckin’[12] Niki in here?”

“Fuck you, Tubbo! You little gremlin piece ‘a[9] shit!” Someone shouted from upstairs.

Tubbo chuckled and announced loudly, “I bought company.”

“Hide the good kush[13]!” Someone else yelled and Tubbo laughed even more.

“Hey Hannah,” Tubbo greeted as he walked in and motioned for Logan to follow him. “Alyssa in?”

“Don’t care,” Hannah was on her phone, sitting in an armchair. “She’s probably off with Callahan.”

“Yeah, prolly[14],” Tubbo replied. He started walking towards the kitchen, he quietly motioned for Logan to follow him.

Tubbo immediately went for the fridge, leaving Logan to just look around the little space. It was obviously lived in, and on the far wall were some pictures of several women with various people Logan recognized as being from the Server. But there was one almost hidden, almost completely tucked behind a bowl full of different colored rocks. It was a small framed picture in the corner of the kitchen, almost hidden from view, of a much younger Tubbo surrounded by some people that Logan didn’t recognize.

Logan didn’t have long to inspect the photos and start making inferences that he would most likely never ask, because someone stomped into the kitchen.

She had fluffy hair that was a chestnut brown on one side, and white on the other. Flecks of rainbow hairs interspersed on both halves. She was one of the people in the picture, Logan quickly realized. She resembled Tubbo a little bit, and on prolonged examination, Logan noticed that her fluffy hair was hiding a set of thick, curled ram horns. The kind that looked capable of crushing someone’s skull if they made an impact.

Logan figured that Tubbo’s would probably look like that in a couple years, just a bit more like a goat’s.

Tubbo glanced at her before asking, “Where are those rad fuckin’ ice lollies yeh bought?”[15]

“You took them last week for Michael,” Puffy snapped.

“Ohhh, yeah, he loved those,” Tubbo smiled, closing the freezer. He gave her a smug look. “So you didn’t buy more then?”

“No,” she gave him the stink eye. Then she glanced at Logan. “Who’s your friend?”

“Pardon me,” Logan spoke up. “My name is Logic, from the Coalition, I believe I texted you a little bit ago.”

“Yeah, I did get something,” Puffy agreed hesitantly. “Who’s this?”

“My mentor,” Tubbo pointed at Logic as he closed the fridge

“Huhhh,” Puffy hummed. “Hey, Tubbo, why don’t you go into the next room and watch some Adventure Time?”

“Don’t kill him,” Tubbo told her pointedly.

“And take that fight from Bad and Big Q, are you insane?” Puffy told him. “Oh, wait, you build bombs, of course you are.”

Tubbo held up two fingers, his middle and index, and flipped her off before walking off.

“You asshole!” Puffy told him and Tubbo was already cackling in laughter. When he’d completely turned his back, Puffy rolled her eyes and smiled. “Ehhh, he’s a good kid.

“He is,” Logan agreed, “Tubbo is intelligent and resourceful. Even if he is threatening to set off explosives under the guise of experimentation.”

“Yep, that’s Tubs alright,” Puffy chuckled. “He always liked figuring out how stuff worked, even as a little kid. He’s like a baby mad scientist.”

“Excuse you, I am a full blown mad scientist, I e’en[16] have the arrest record ta[5] prove it!” Tubbo boasted from the other room.

“From what Tubbo has told me, you seem to approve of him working with us,” Logan commented.

“Hell yeah,” Puffy told him, leaning against the counter as she watched him. “Between Ranboo, the Bee ‘n Boo, and working with you guys; Tubbo’s happier than I’ve seen him in a while.”

“That is good,” Logan agreed. “Tubbo’s mental and physical well-being is of primary importance.”

“You talk like a textbook, you sure you’re not a robot?” Puffy asked.

“I do not classify as an inorganic being,” Logan answered.

“Sure you don’t,” Puffy smiled. “So what brings you to the neighborhood? I’m guessing you didn’t come over just to stand in our kitchen and look like Apple’s version of Robocop?”

“No, that’s not the reason I came to visit,” Logan agreed. “The Coalition prefers, if possible, to have a good working relationship with the families of our apprentices. So that in the case of emergencies they can be notified. While I am glad you and Tubbo seem to have a positive relationship, the more important question is are there any safety risks that any other members of your family would pose to Tubbo or his family?”

Puffy looked uneasy, “What has he told you?”

“Not much,” the logical Side admitted. “I haven’t known him for long enough, but when I asked him about his extraneous family, Tubbo mentioned he was emancipated, and that he was not in communication with his parents. He only mentioned you, and I have seen his son once.”

“We had an older brother,” Puffy frowned, looking over at the half-hidden picture. “Started turning into a demon around the same time as Tubbo and I, and he was . . .”

She looked down, “Well he was the type of demon you keep your kids away from, and I wasn’t there to keep my eyes on them.”

“That must have been a difficult experience for everyone,” Logan tried to offer his sympathies.

Puffy looked in the direction of the hidden picture, “I should have been there, it would have never happened if Phil and I had been there to stop them. But the real problem is Dream has something that can apparently restore a demon. I don’t know how thorough it is, or if it’s just something he tells Tommy and the others to make them afraid of what he can do. But he apparently needs some of the original demon’s essence or aura and both Schlatt and Will left those behind. Wilbur left Ghostbur behind, and Quackity cremated everything but Schlatt’s heart and five of his bones. Meaning if Dream gets his hands on even one of those bones then he could, if he does have that power, bring Schlatt back any time he wanted. And I’d ask you to get those bones from Quackity and Dream but that means going into the Server and there’s no way Dream would allow you in. Just, if Wilbur and Schlatt come back, promise me you’ll keep those three safe?”

“With my life,” Logan promised. “The death and manipulation of children are unacceptable.”

Puffy smiled, a breathy little snort coming from her, “You know, I always heard that legates were buttfuck insane. Glad to know you’re not.”

“I am not in the Coalition for fame and vainglory. Others might be, but I strive to make the world a better place, and such can only happen through the acquisition of knowledge and reason over fear. Of fact over fiction. Tubbo is, despite his demon aura and insistence to the contrary, still a child. And regardless of all of that he is a person who deserves to be in a safe and loving environment.”

“Yeah the Server’s never been that kind to minors,” Puffy scoffed. “It’s kinda[4] like taking a box of kittens and turning them into robotic war machines. Tubbo and Purpled just took to it better than the others.”

“How many minors are in the Server still?” Logan was concerned. The trio the heroes were dealing with already had their pasts marred by trauma and death, he’d never considered there were others still trapped in the same unsafe environment.

“You have three,” Puffy began counting. “Quackity still has Purpled and Fundy in Las Nevadas so they’re doing slightly better than they were before when they were working directly under Dream. You guys also got Jack, who just turned nineteen. But I would not trust Jack alone with Tommy, he threatened to kill him several times.”

“Thank you for the information,” Logan told her. “Anything else you can tell me about the other two minors?”

“So, Purpled is from a league of assassins and he loves money too much to defect,” Puffy dismissed. “You’d need to start paying him the big bucks to make him switch sides and Quackity already gave a good price. While Dream is paying his older brother through the nose to keep him out of Quackity’s hands as well. Punz is older than me though, so if Purpled went anywhere else it would be back with him. But Fundy is a different story. He’s Wilbur’s spawnling and Fundy is kinda[4] a basket case already. If you can get him away from Quackity, good, but I don’t imagine he’d go all that easily and Big Q’s only gonna[3] clamp down harder on him. Fundy and Tubbo were kinda[4] the server mascots back in the day since they were the babies of the group.”

“Everyone loved Tubbo,” Puffy smiled fondly before frowning sadly. “But that’s not the case anymore. He’s made himself a lot of enemies.”

“I see, thank you, I will relay the message to the others and we’ll do what we can for them,” Logan promised.

Puffy came off of the counter. “Thanks, no one in the Server really thought twice about those kids, they kinda[4] just tossed ‘em[8] around and personally I’m really glad you got the ones you do out of there. All three of ‘em[8] have been through enough.”

Then she went to poke her head out of the kitchen. “Tubbo, take yer friend and get out of my house, I don’t want you in here while we’re out.”

“Sure,” Tubbo kicked his feet up and already started for the front door. “Whate’er, go back ta snoggin’ yer girlfriend, I’ve got shit ta blow up.”[17]

And he was out, leaving Logan to immediately rush off after him, which got both of them out of the condo. Puffy watching them with a smile.

Tubbo, as it turns out, did not make good on his explosion test threats, he continued on his patrol, and then went back home to the Bee ‘n Boo. Walking in with a suit and his usual business-friendly smile. Logan, meanwhile, returned to the base to communicate with, especially Ethan, about what he had heard from Tubbo’s sister.

To clear his mind, Tubbo immediately went into his apiary to make sure his bees were alright. Which is exactly where Ranboo found Tubbo.

“Hey, Tubs,” Ranboo smiled and Tubbo managed a small smile back.

“Hey, bossman,” Tubbo was looking at him through the fringe of his hair, “how have things been?”

“Been alright,” Ranboo sat next to Tubbo, crossing his legs as he sat down. “You feeling better?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Tubbo denied, trying to ignore what had happened in the morning.

“Because,” Ranboo mentally halted, “this morning you screamed and you looked really scared, and I didn’t know how to help.”

“C’mon,[2] big man, I’m fine,” Tubbo lied. “E’eryone[18] has the occasional nightmares, I was just jumpy. Happens ta[5] e’eryone[18].”

“Y—” Ranboo looked away. “Yeah, I guess, but you know you can talk to me? Right?”

“Yeah, of course, same fer[6] you,” Tubbo told him, both teens knowing that they kept secrets from each other.

“I’m thinking,” Tubbo redirected, “pizza fer dinner. Wanna order somethin’?”[19]

“Sure, yeah,” Ranboo agreed and after Tubbo finished caring for the apiary, and the pizza was delivered, they both retired to their dwelling and Michael was very happy to settle down with both his dads for the night. The little boy stuffing his face with pizza, and trying to feed some to his stuffed toy chicken. The three of them watched cartoons until Michael fell asleep and Tubbo tucked him into bed.

Tubbo and Ranboo hoped that tomorrow would be a better day for all three of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations:

1. come here

2. come on

3. going to

4. kind of

5. to

6. for

7. You want to head on over?

8. them

9. of

10. want to

11. and

12. fucking

13. weed

14. probably

15. Where are those really fuckin’ good ice lollies [popsicles] you bought?

16. even

17. Whatever, go back to kissing your girlfriend, I’ve got shit to blow up.

18. Everyone

19. pizza for dinner. Want to order something?

8 notes · View notes

xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 4 years

Text

Cold Night - Gerard Way x Reader

Request: The “but there’s only 1 bed...” trope with basement Gerard?

Summary: you’re spending the night in a small motel, and of course it’s Gerard and the reader who end up in the single bed room.

Word count: 3 327

A/N: kinda the wrong season for this but who cares, right? Also the dialog between Frank, Ray and Mikey: I read it again and actually got annoyed at them…

The air in the van was freezing cold and used, but you had been breathing it for so long now that you did not even notice. Ray was confidently steering the old, rusty car down the highway with Gerard asleep in the passenger seat while you were squeezed between Frank and Mikey in the backseat. You were shivering from the cold, but their body heat kept you a little warmer. It seemed like a lifetime ago since you had been able to feel your legs the last time, thanks to the amplifier that successfully stole all the space for your legs. You had tried to vary your sitting position as often as possible, but since Frank had sleepily cuddled into your side and effectively immobilized you, it had become impossible to move. While your legs were completely numb, your butt sure was not as lucky, and instead itched from all the sitting.

Just when you were certain you would eventually scream, just to get rid of some of the built up tension from not being able to move all day long, the van passed the sign that announced you had reached the city where the band would play their next concert tomorrow evening. A sigh of relief escaped your lips, and as if Ray had felt your despair, he pulled into the gravel parking lot of a motel just a couple of minutes later.

The motor was not even turned off yet, when you had already pushed Frank off of you and jumped out of the car, trying to get your legs to work again. It felt like thousand ants were biting you, and while you jumped around to get your blood flow working, Gerard slowly lifted his head, and looked out of the window. He decided that you, even if it was while jumping around like a maniac, were the best thing he could possibly wake up to.

When the feeling of the ants finally disappeared again, and even your behind had forgiven you for the torturous drive, you calmed down a little. Out of breath you stretched your arms over your head, shivering once more from the icy breeze that blew over your skin where your shirt had ridden up just enough to reveal a tiny bit of your stomach and back. Right now you could not care less. Turning around your own axis, your arms still stretching in the hopes to feel more human again, you took in your surroundings.

The motel was pretty small, and from what you could tell, most of the rooms were taken already. Fog started building over the parking lot and the street, and all that was missing was the moose appearing from behind a tree in the deep forest. You continued turning slowly, and noticed that Ray was already walking over to the door that had a big red sign saying “reception”.

Mikey and Frank had climbed out of the van too, and were stretching just as much as you, while starting to fantasize about a bed for themselves out loud. And then there was Gerard. The passenger door was open, his legs hanging out of the vehicle, but he was still sitting, his piercing eyes carefully watching every single one of your movements. When he noticed that you had seen him, he quickly turned away, but he had not been fast enough to hide the dreamy expression in his eyes.

As if you had been caught doing something forbidden, you quickly lowered your arms, allowing your shirt to cover your upper body completely once again, while you tried to ignore the racing of your heart which you got every time you thought of the nerdy lead singer. Instead you decided to follow Ray, in the hopes to forget the way Gerard had looked at you as if he actually liked what he had seen.

The small room that hosted the reception was air conditioned, much to your relief, and cosily warm. Ray had already told the man behind the counter what the five of you were looking for, but the man just shook his head.

“I got a single and a double bed room,” he told Ray, who sighed barely audibly.

“Are there no other rooms available,” he asked desperately.

“None, now do you want to take the rooms or not?”

Ray and you exchanged glances. There was no way any of you would get back into that van before tomorrow.

“We’re five people. That still okay,” you inquired.

The man shrugged and noted something down in a book before telling Ray the price for two nights, and handing you two room keys.

The metal felt foreign between your icy and numb fingers, and you quickly turned around to tell the boys about the development while you thought about the chance that you would end up sleeping right next to Gerard. Not that you wanted to. Well, maybe you wanted to.

“Two rooms,” Mikey asked shocked.

“I’m not sharing with Gerard, he’s always snoring,” Frank immediately claimed.

“So are you,” replied the black haired man.

“Hey (y/n), do you wanna share the single room,” Frank asked, trying to make sure he would not have to share a bed with Gerard.

“I was thinking we could pair up,” Mikey interrupted, throwing a hopeful glance your way.

“I really don’t care,” you answered, giving an indifferent shrug towards the young men while a secret voice in your head was screaming to ask to share a room with Gerard. What you really wanted though was to get out of this bloody cold of tonight’s late march evening.

“If you have to fight about it, I get to share the room with (y/n),” Ray, who had reached the van too, decided.

“Who decided I have to sleep in the single room,” you tried calming the situation, but Frank had already started talking, far louder than you.

“Oh yeah, who made you the boss?”

“Well, judging by height, you definitely aren’t” Ray bit back, causing Frank to jump up in rage.

“Who do you think you are, you-“

“Well, who does get to share the room with (y/n) now,” Mikey wondered, which started a heated debate between the three men.

Gerard sighed quietly, and with a shake of his head he reached between his fighting band members, ending the fight effectively by stating with an annoyed groan that since the three seemed to need some bonding time they would share a room.

Fuming, but not daring to disagree with him, they accepted the deal, which somewhat surprised you. But then again all of you were tired, and it was incredibly cold, and the rooms would have air conditioning at least.

Grabbing your bag from the back of the van, you followed Gerard to the part of the motel with the single rooms.

“I can take the sofa,” he offered even before he had reached the door.

You shook your head.

“It’s fine, I can take the sofa, I really don’t mind.”

The little sign dangling from the key read the number seven, so when you had reached the room, you unlocked it, being met with the ice cold and dusty air of a room that had cooled out. But what you noticed first was the size of the room. And that was not big.

The room was just big enough for a single person bed that had been pushed against the wall, a table with a single chair, and a small door.

“Let me guess, the door doesn’t lead to a second, bigger room,” Gerard joked, pushing past you into the room.

“Bathroom, I guess,” you agreed with a small sigh.

All of a sudden you realized what that meant. It meant you really, really had to share the bed with Gerard. And it was a small bed.

“Seems like the sofa discussion is over,” Gerard shrugged, and threw his bag on the bed.

“Yeah,” you agreed quietly, all of a sudden not sure whether you could go through with this.

Putting your own bag down on the poor excuse of a table, you opened the second door, and were met with a small bathroom. The last, almost blue, rays of sunlight fell through the dusty window, but at least the set of towels seemed fresh.

“So, how does this thing work?”

You turned back to the room, and found Gerard was already standing on the bed, his shoes discarded on the floor, trying to get the air conditioner to work.

“Try this,” you grinned, and threw him a small remote which you had found on the table.

After having pressed a couple of buttons, Gerard successfully managed to get the white box to make a few strange sounds, and a couple of seconds later air blew into the room, air that quickly got warm.

“Heaven,” Gerard sighed, and flopped down on the bed.

“Indeed,” you agreed.

For a few moments you allowed the warm air to engulf you before you spoke up again.

“Mind if I take a shower?”

Gerard shook his head, so you grabbed your bag, and went back into the small bathroom.

You turned the water as warm as it got, trying to get your body to thaw. While standing under the pleasantly hot water, you could not help but think about Gerard and the fact that you would have to share a bed tonight. It should not be anything to worry about, right? After all he only saw you as a friend, didn’t he? But as hard as you tried, you did not see him as just a friend. To you he had always been more; first a crush, then you had considered yourself to be in love with him, but now… it was hard to put it into words. Gerard was the person you trusted most in the world, the person who always listened to you, who you listened to. You spent weekends together, playing video games, watching movies, discussing fan theories about The Lord of the Rings. He knew almost everything about you, except how hard you wanted to be able cuddle up to him every night, and how unreasonably jealous you got every time some random girl flirted with him.

Shaking your head, trying to clear it, you quickly finished the shower, hoping you had not used up all of the warm water.

When you came back into the bed room, the air had warmed up already. You felt a little cold again since the room was no comparison to the warm bathroom, but better than nothing. Gerard sat at the table, wearing a jacket, and doodled into his notebook.

“Bathroom’s free,” you let him know, pushing your day clothes into your backpack, now that you were wearing your pyjama.

“Okay, thanks,” Gerard nodded, closing his notebook, and sending you a smile. Did he have to look this soft and cuddly wearing this jacket?

He grabbed his own pyjama from his bag, and carelessly pushed the notebook and the pen inside, before he disappeared in the bathroom.

Shivering slightly, you sat down on the edge of the bed, and took another look around the room. The window was tiny, and you could not see outside. By now it was so dark outside that the lights from the room reflected in the glass. Standing up, you walked to the window, and tried spying outside. A single lamppost lit up the parking lot. A lot of cars, including the band’s van were parked outside, mostly pick-up trucks and range rovers. But beyond the parking lot, there was only darkness and the wilderness of the endless seeming forest.

Turning back to the room, you noticed that Gerard’s notebook had slipped out of the bag, and was lying on the floor. Walking over you picked it up. The leather of the cover was smooth and almost warm. For a split second you felt tempted to take a look inside, but decided against it. You would not want Gerard to look through your private things either. So you pushed it back into the bag and made sure it would not slip out again.

You decided Gerard probably would not mind if you went to bed already. You were cold again, and hoped that the blanket would give some comfort, more than the weak air conditioner did. In the bathroom you heard Gerard quietly humming over the sound of rushing water.

The blanket was rigid when you unfolded it, and crawled underneath. The bed was ice cold, and you scooted close to the wall.

Not much later, Gerard came back out of the bathroom. He could not help but smile when he spotted you, tucked in up to your nose.

“Tired,” he asked, putting away his clothes, and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

You just nodded.

“Hungry,” he continued asking, but this time you shook your head. Honestly you did not trust your voice not to shake. “Me neither. That veggie burger for lunch was gigantic!”

You giggled, remembering how full all of you had been. It had been delicious.

“Yeah, that was some meal,” you agreed.

“Should we go to sleep?”

“If you don’t mind? I’m really tired, and tomorrow is a long day,” you mumbled.

Gerard shook his head. “Not at all. I’m super tired too.”

He walked to turn off the lights, and felt his way back to the bed in the dark. Quickly he slipped under the blanket next to you, along with some cold air. You scooted as close to the wall as possible to make enough space for him, but you could tell that with the space he left between you, he was still balancing on the edge of the tiny bed.

“Thanks for warming the blanket up,” he joked, and you laughed quietly.

“Do have enough space? It kinda feels like you’re falling out of bed,” you asked, trying to make out his face in the minimal light.

“Uhm, well- yeah, I am,” Gerard admitted, “mind if I scoot closer?”

“It’s fine,” you encouraged, but at the same time wondered why you were doing it. Did you want to kill yourself with a heart attack?

Gerard moved away from the edge, and by the time it did not feel like he was millimetres away from falling out of bed anymore, he was basically laying chest to chest with you.

“If I snore, wake me up, okay,” Gerard instructed, making you laugh.

“I will,” you agreed, “good night.”

“Sleep well,” Gerard replied, and even though you could not see him in the dark, you could hear the smile on his lips.

For a while you were lying in silence. Your heart was racing, being so close to Gerard. His body was soft and warm, and you wished you could just hug him. Almost as if Gerard had heard your thoughts, he eventually cleared his throat.

“Uhm, do you mind if I…?”

“What,” you asked into the direction from where Gerard’s warm breath was fanning over your skin.

“Ahm-“ somehow he seemed not to find the right words, but instead he wrapped his arm around you a moment later, and pulled you a little closer.

The breath hitched in your throat, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Is that okay,” Gerard asked shyly, but you just nodded, feeling his hair brush against your face.

You could feel him relax, his arm getting heavier around your waist, and you hesitantly lifted your hand to his chest, not sure if he would push you away any moment, but then again he had been the one initiating the contact first. That your worries had been unwarranted was proofed by the little sigh that escaped Gerard, and he moved closer into your touch.

Smiling slightly, you tried to relax your tensed-up muscles. Gerard’s presence was comforting and familiar, even though you had never been this close to him. The butterflies, that had erupted in your stomach slowly settled down, and just when you had finally been at the brink of falling asleep in Gerard’s arms, he spoke up again, his voice sending vibrations through his chest.

“(y/n)?”

You opened your eyes, and now, that you were used to the dark, you were able to make out his shining eyes right in front of you. Your faces were barely two inches apart.

For a while you were looking at him, waiting for him to say something else, but he did not. Instead he stared at you through the darkness. You were about to ask what was wrong, when he suddenly moved, and pressed his lips against yours in a quick kiss, pulling away as quickly as he had lent in.

Surprised you looked at him, feeling him shaking with nerves underneath your fingertips on his chest. His eyes were closed, as if he was avoiding meeting your eyes.

“Gee?” Moving your hand from his chest up his neck to the side of his head, you gently wrapped a strand of his hair around your finger. “Gerard?”

Slowly he looked at you, the fear of rejection clear in his eyes. If only he knew he did not have to fear that from you.

Gently you guided his head back closer to yours, and connected your lips to his again. It took him a moment, but then he seemed to understand, and kissed you back, wrapping his arms around you tighter, and pulling you even closer to him. His hot lips and breath was welcome contrast to the still cold air of the room, and your heart beat hard as you ran your fingers through his slightly greasy hair and over his soft skin.

Far too quickly for your liking, you ran out of breath, and pulled away slightly, laying back down in the pillow, but Gerard moved over, and peppered your face with tiny kisses until you were full on laughing.

“You’re tickling me,” you exclaimed, pretending to try to shove him away.

“Good, I’ll need to remember that,” he answered, making you laugh even harder.

He fell back into the matrass next to you, and immediately pulled you close again, arranging the blanket over both of you so were cocooned in. His nose was brushing against yours, and you were breathing against each other’s skin.

“I just want you to know that I’ve wanted to kiss you since – since always, really,” he admitted, making you blush.

You nuzzled your nose into his neck, and inhaled the familiar scent, making him giggle.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, leaving a soft kiss against his neck before looking at him again, giving his lips a sweet kiss as well, which made him smile.

“What for,” he asked surprised.

“Having the courage to kiss me. I wouldn’t have had the courage to kiss you, well, I didn’t,” you shrugged, “no matter how much I wanted to.”

“That’s okay,” Gerard grinned, and brushed his fingers through your hair, “I’m just glad you didn’t sucker punch me.”

Both of you giggled at that, and sleepily you adjusted your position in Gerard’s arm.

“When I wake up tomorrow, will this have been a dream,” you wondered yawning.

“If it was, then it would have been a dream we both dreamt, and then we can just continue like this in the real world,” Gerard suggested, smiling at how comfortable you seemed to be in his arms. No matter how silly it seemed, he had always worried that if he ever got to the point of holding you in his arms, you would not be comfortable, or would not like it for some reason. But the way you were cuddling into him now, yawning and smiling, you seemed pretty happy.

Gerard watched you fall asleep, and decided that maybe, you had been right and all this was a dream. So there was only one way to avoid waking up – not falling asleep. Not that he would be able to sleep anyway, your sleeping form was far too distracting.

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nanoland · 3 years

Text

Ponder on the Narrow House

fandom: Lucifer

main characters: Mazikeen, Eve, Michael

pairings: Mazikeen/Eve/Michael

summary: In which Mazikeen isn't finished with Michael yet.

warnings: Violence, gun violence, trauma, dehumanization, outdoor sex.

In 2019, Fodor’s had crowned LAX the worst airport on Planet Earth, comparing it – much to Mazikeen’s amusement – to Dante Alighieri’s Hell.

She couldn’t comment on the comparison’s accuracy; she’d never read Divina Comedia. Human poetry bored her.

Up against the real thing, however? Hell was quieter, cleaner, and smelt better than Los Angeles International, and it wasn’t even close.

Granted, Mazikeen was biased. Hell was her home and she liked it quite a lot. But surely even a human – even an angel – would sooner take a stint in one of Lucifer’s loops than spend more than thirty minutes in Terminal 3.

Yet there he was, leaning against the wall, watching the bustling crowd with a faint smile on his face, like a man in the park resting his eyes on the ducks. Perfectly content.

“Do you know,” he said as she approached him, “that around forty percent of all humans are scared of flying?”

She hadn’t been sure how this encounter would go and, being innately practical, had dressed accordingly. Black satin skirt, flattering and loose enough to both conceal several demon daggers (invisible to the full-body scanner she’d just sauntered through) and not impede her reaction time in a fight. Red silk wrap blouse, easily unwrapped to serve as a garrotte or tourniquet. Hair down, curled, dyed pitch black with bronze-gold streaks – possibly a tactical disadvantage if he grabbed it, but possibly a distraction. She knew he liked her hair.

When she was satisfied he wasn’t about to lunge for her throat, she took a gamble and moved in to lean against the wall alongside him, following his gaze. “Not surprising. Think of it from their perspective. They don’t have wings. Actually – huh. I guess that’s a perspective you can sympathise with now.”

He sneered. “You’re trying to bait me, Miss Mazikeen. That’s cute. But I’m not in the mood, dollface. This? This is me time. I’ve had a shitty few days and I came here specifically to soak up these idiot mortals’ fear and chill out. Get lost. Go play with my twin if you’re so starved for entertainment.”

Mazikeen stretched. “That’s the problem. He’s hanging out with the rest of your lousy family. Gabriel. Raziel. Jophiel. Now that he’s in charge, they’re all trying to crawl up his ass. It’s pathetic. And annoying.”

His jaw clenched and she knew exactly what he was thinking: ‘That should have been me.’

“Also,” she added, after a pause, “they don’t like me. Most of them have never met a demon. There’s no outright hostility but… they talk to me like I’m some gross exotic pet Lucifer found and adopted.”

“They’re afraid of you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Nope. I’m wrong about some things. Never about fear. They can tell how much you matter to him, how much he’d do for you and vis versa, and it scares them shitless. Chloe Decker they can understand – she was Dad’s gift, after all. You, though? Lucy was never supposed to love you. No one was.”

She fiddled with her earring; big, gold, shaped like a swallow with rubies dotting its tail feathers. A gift from Eve. “Whatever. Anyway, that’s why I’m here. With you. Instead of them. You’re the worst, most obnoxious, most cowardly creep ever. I mean it. Christ, do you suck. But you always talked to me like I was a person. Right from the beginning.”

Ugliness flared behind his eyes. “Seriously? Now you’re being nice? Lucifer sent his general to console me? Ha! That’s how pitiful he thinks I am?”

“Pfft – no. Lucifer doesn’t give a crap about you. I’m here because I wanna offer you a job, moron.”

“A… job.”

“Yep. Ever heard of ‘bounty-hunting’?”

He nodded. Slowly. Smirking, she pushed off the wall and twirled on her six-inch heels to face him.

“Here’s the thing, o Angel of Dread; I’ve spent centuries in Hell learning how to terrify people. I look at you and you know what I see? Potential. Sure, you’re rough around the edges. Still got some celestial baby fat clinging to you. Still a little squeamish when it comes to certain tricks of the trade. But Mikey, honey, six months under my tutelage and I think we can turn you into a bona fide fucking nightmare.”

She let the skin on her face’s left side melt away and grinned at him. “So? How about it?”

“Eh,” he said after taking one last glance around the terminal. “Fuck it. Why not? Nothing better to do.”

“Los Angeles is kinda like me,” Mazikeen told him, taking off her red-lensed cat-eye sunglasses as she strutted down the pier.

“Doesn’t have a soul?”

A withering glare. “Tough. Pretty on the outside, mean on the inside. It’s easy to make enemies around here and when you’ve made ‘em, you need to stay on your toes. Stay nimble. Stay mobile. Ready to fight or flee at any moment.”

Michael nodded. “And that’s how you justify living on a tugboat.”

“Ahoy!” called Eve, standing on the deck in a polka dot bikini and pirate hat Mazikeen had presumably stolen for her off the set of some summer blockbuster or other being shot nearby, the salty breeze playing with her hair.

“It’s a yacht,” Mazikeen growled.

“No. That’s a yacht,” Michael replied, pointing to the gleaming white MCY 70 Skylounge docked nearby. “What you have is a glorified raft that can, at best, accommodate two people and maybe a toaster.”

He should, perhaps, be trying harder to ingratiate himself with his new boss.

But he was tired.

Getting in his face, she snapped, “Hey! That’s our headquarters, asshole. Show some respect.”

“It’s covered in seagull crap. It looks older than me. There’s a very obvious bloodstain on the helm. Jesus, doesn’t Lucifer pay you?”

She pushed him into the sea.

Offering him a hand when he bobbed to the surface, Eve said, “Don’t take it personally. She’s just mad because we weren’t able to steal a bigger one.”

It was while Michael was towelling himself dry down below decks that the chunky-faced cop wandered in, took one look at him, and strode across the room.

“Mister Espinoza,” he drawled, “what can I-… oh. Oh, wow, you really thought that was going to work, huh?”

Curled up on the floor, clutching the fist he’d very mistakenly slammed into Michael’s jaw, Dan hissed, “Fuck you. You killed me.”

“Poppycock. I had you killed. That’s entirely different, buddy.”

Dan staggered to his feet and shouted, “Maze! Eve! What the hell is he doing here?”

Taking off his wet jacket and draping it over the rack alongside the towel, Michael said, “I was invited, thank you very much. No one told me you were part of the arrangement.”

“What arrangement, asshole?” Dan snapped, turning red. “I’m just here to help Maze fix her boat’s engine.”

“Oh. You don’t work with her, then? No, I suppose you wouldn’t. As we’ve established, you’re entirely too killable.”

“You sleazy son-of-a… Maze! Get down here!”

Grumbling, Michael’s new boss stalked below deck carrying a crate of beer on her left shoulder and a sleeping bag under her right arm. “Goddammit – Dan, I told you to wait. Is your hand bleeding, you big meathead? We seriously just dragged your ass out of Hell and you couldn’t go two whole days before breaking yourself again? Ugh. You’re impossible. You’re worse than Decker.”

“Maze, d’you wanna explain what the actual fuck Lucifer’s psycho twin is doing here?”

“Interning,” Michael said, cheerfully.

His face now practically purple, Dan half-yelled, “What is he talking about? This is not okay, Maze! Does Chloe know? Does Amenadiel? Why is he even still on Earth? Lucifer’s God now; can’t he stick him on Mars or turn him into a bug or something?”

“Look, Dan, just calm down-…” she began.

“I died! I actually, literally, physically died! Because of him! No, I’m not going to calm down!”

Michael scoffed. “Please. Like that’s what you’re really upset about. You’re not angry about dying. You’re not angry at all. You’re scared, buttercup. And not just of me; of her, of Lucifer, of everything, and to be honest, I didn’t even need to use the ol’ angel juice to work that out.”

Mazikeen set down her cargo, pulled a knife from her belt, and flung it. It embedded itself five inches deep in the floor between them. “This? This is not Lux, dickheads. Mortals and celestials don’t hang out here to have a good time while I sit behind the bar and tolerate them. This crummy, crusty-ass, piece of crap boat is my domain. Here, I don’t have to put up with one femtometre of your bullshit. If you want to fight, do it somewhere else. If you want to fuck, do it quick and clean up afterwards. If you want to make yourselves useful, help me get the weapons on board.”

“Wait – wait, weapons? What weapons?” said Dan to her retreating back. “You said you were going fishing. Maze! What weapons?”

“Where’s all your stuff?” Eve asked when she showed him to his tiny cabin.

“I’m an archangel. I don’t have ‘stuff’.”

(Michael had already decided he didn’t like her. She was bubbly.)

“Heh. You should travel with Lucy sometime. We went to Vancouver for a weekend and he brought seven bags, five watches, and six pairs of shoes. Okay, do you – uh, do you at least have a change of clothes? Because those look kinda soggy.”

To his annoyance – and embarrassment – she spend twenty minutes hunting down a shirt and pants that would fit him.

“They’re mine,” she said, dropping them into his lap. “But I bought them to sleep in and I like loose pyjamas, so they’re a dozen sizes too big on me. Oh! Also found you this.”

She presented a hot water bottle in the shape of a fat, cuddly sheep.

He accepted it carefully, wondering if it was booby-trapped. “You’re Lucifer’s ex, right?”

“Er… yep? Amongst other things. The Original Sinner. First Woman, First Wife, First Mother. Mother of Mankind. Second Human. First Knowledgeable Human. But sure, I was also your brother’s girlfriend for a while.”

“And now you’re Mazikeen’s. Do you also work with her?”

“Sure do!” she said, interpreting the question as an invitation to sit down next to him. “I’m The Choronzon’s captain. That’s our boat’s name. My idea. I know she’s not much to look at but she’s got so much history. There’ve been fourteen homicides on her! Plus, she’s fast; way, way faster than she looks. And I know the beds are hard, but we’ve got three hammocks stashed away and getting them set up is easy as pie.”

“Wow. Those suckers up in the Silver City don’t know what they’re missing.”

She nodded, blinking slowly. “Hmm. Maze was right. You are mean. That’s cool. I get on well with mean people. Anyway, just in case she hasn’t told you; we’ve got a job lined up and we’ll be setting sail tomorrow at dawn. You get seasick? Not a problem; we’ve got a medical kit full of antiemetics. On that note, should we pick up something for you before we leave shore?”

“No.”

“You sure? Just that – uh – I mean, my third son, Seth, the one nobody talks about – he also had pretty severe scoliosis. Wasn’t a whole lot we could do about it back then. But these days they’ve got tons of stuff; opiods and anti-inflammatories and memory foam. Science is so, so cool. And I’m going shopping for sunscreen anyway, so dropping by the pharmacy wouldn’t be a problem.”

For a moment, he reviewed a list of responses that would deeply, profoundly hurt her, responses that would ensure she didn’t approach him again.

But he was tired, tired, tired.

“Here.”

He took a folded piece of A4 paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “These are what the last human doctor I went to recommended. Getting hold of those three I’ve circled is tricky, but I know a guy. Call him on that number down there and he’ll meet you wherever. If he gives you any trouble, remind him that Michael knows about the vacuum cleaner. That’ll shut him up.”

As soon as she’d bounced out of the room, he shut the door, locked it, and laid down to sleep.

It was night when he awoke.

He went upstairs to find Mazikeen and Eve sitting on the deck, admiring what stars could be seen through Los Angeles’ perpetual light pollution and sharing a pizza.

“Mickey! Get over here,” called Mazikeen, clad in a black dressing down and slippers shaped like plump pink pigs.

“It’s freezing,” he complained.

She snickered and threw him the prickly blanket that had been resting over her knees. “Wimp. Eve told you about the job, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how to use any weapons?” Eve asked. “Maze sticks with her knives most of the time. I prefer my traps and crossbow. But we’ve got guns, if that’s more your speed.”

They were clearly expecting him to sit down. Eve had even scooted to the left to make room.

He opened the blanket up and wrapped it around his shoulders, remaining standing. “Can I ask a question? What, precisely, is my role here?”

“For now, you’re a meat shield,” said Mazikeen, talking through a mouthful of pepperoni and violently yellow cheese. “Me and Eve are both vulnerable to bullets. I mean – I’m less vulnerable, obviously. But I don’t hate any of my relatives enough to go about finding out exactly how many bullets it takes to snuff a demon. So your job, at least tomorrow, is just to soak up enemy fire until we’ve got our hands on the target.”

Scowling, he said, “Getting shot does hurt, you know.”

“Yeah,” she replied, eyes shining with spite. “Dan sure seemed to think so.”

When the tense silence had stretched for over thirty seconds, Eve clapped her hands, smiling anxiously, and said, “So! Anyone up for rummy?”

Along the California coastline, the cruise ship Illustrious Voyager bore four thousand three hundred and ten passengers, one thousand two hundred and ninety-six crewmembers, and two guide dogs.

Five thousand six hundred and eight souls, in total.

At around 4pm, without anyone noticing, that number became five thousand six hundred and nine.

Hands clasped behind her back, Eve strolled down the promenade, admiring the vessel’s size and beauty. This fresh new millennium’s wealth astonished her. Sickened, sometimes. Entranced, sometimes. But always astonished.

Back in the garden, they’d slept on and under rocks. When it rained, they got wet. When large animals came by, they hid. No weapons. No shelter. No blankets. The only resource they’d had in abundance was food. Good grief – so much food. God had been so proud of all the different fruits and nuts and mushrooms he’d made available to them, and Adam had been so grateful. Eve supposed she had been, too.

It hadn’t stopped her from one day approaching her husband and the plump rabbits resting in his lap – two of several dozen pets – and asking if he didn’t think the cold nights would be much more endurable if they each had a warm pair of fur slippers.

Then she’d met Lucifer. Fallen in love. Bitten the apple. Learned how powerful he and his Father truly were. That was when the real questions, the sticky, prickly questions, had come bubbling up.

If Lucifer has such a vast family, with so many siblings, why can’t I have even one? she’d asked the sky. Why is Adam all I get?

And later: If You can simply bring people into existence, why must I scream and bleed and shit myself in order to have children? Am I doing it wrong? Is there another way? If there isn’t, why not?

And later: Why is nothing fair?

And, most recently, after meeting Mazikeen: Why isn’t everything at least equally unfair? Why do humans get a world of options while Maze and her family are expected to serve angels from birth to death? Why isn’t Maze allowed into Heaven, even after an eternity of loyalty and hard work?

“Sorry,” she said, flashing white teeth at a passing crewmember. “I’m trying to find a friend of mine. Can you tell me how to get to Room 835?”

Half an hour later, there was a splash and the ship’s population dropped to five thousand six hundred and seven.

Before binding his arms and legs, Eve had secured Andrew Bismarck’s lifejacket and gagged him. Furious and helpless, he bobbed alongside her as the ship moved on and Mazikeen rowed up in her inflatable raft, wearing a sunset-orange swimsuit.

“Should I be worried about those, babe?” she asked as she gripped Bismarck’s lifejacket and hauled him out of the water.

Eve smiled at the dolphin pod swimming in playful loops around her, and patted the nearest one’s nose. “No. They’re my friends.”

The inflatable wasn’t big enough for three people, so Eve held on to a friend’s dorsal fin and let him drag her back to The Choronzon.

Michael stood on the deck, looking bored. As they climbed aboard, their prisoner slung over Mazikeen’s shoulder, he drawled, “Seriously? This sad specimen’s worth two million dollars?”

“Actually, his net worth is eight hundred million,” said Mazikeen, dumping him down. “Two million is just what his ex-wife is willing and able to pay.”

Wringing out her hair, Eve added, “She took half his money in the divorce but she gave almost all of it to a chimpanzee shelter. I really like her!”

His lip curled. “How delightfully sordid. Isn’t this all a little beneath you, Ms Mazikeen? I mean, you’re a big deal in Hell. High Commander of Lucifer’s legions, head advisor to the king himself. Aren’t you worried taking jobs like this diminishes you?”

Busy handcuffing Bismarck to the railing, Mazikeen said, “Eve, honey? Do me a favour?”

“Boop!” Eve chirped, having already snuck up behind Michael, and pushed him overboard.

“I know it’s your whole gimmick,” Mazikeen called down as he splashed and spluttered, his face red with princely indignation. “And I know you don’t have a lot else going for you. But the next time you try that on me, I will stop being nice. Kapish?”

“Kapish,” he muttered.

The Choronzon had barely travelled a mile before Eve spotted Bismarck’s henchmen coming after them.

“Someone gimme details!” shouted Mazikeen, busy putting a bulletproof vest on over her bikini and opening up the box she’d told Dan contained a fishing rod, not a halberd.

Eve peered through her binoculars. “Two speedboats. Twelve guys on jet skis. Guns everywhere.”

“Heh. Awesome. Mickey – move that tight ass to the front and make like a nice juicy target.”

“Wait, what about-…” Michael began, trailing off as Mazikeen dove gracefully into the sea.

Bouncing from foot to foot, Eve shot him a grin. “Don’t look so glum, sourpuss. This is the fun part.”

She’d never spoken to Michael in Heaven, despite the millennia they’d both resided only two miles apart, her in a lakeside cottage on the outskirts of the Silver City, him in the crystal palace in its centre.

Granted, she’d not exactly had a warm and fuzzy relationship with any of Lucifer’s siblings. They all knew what had happened in the garden. Some had been nice – Amenadiel had visited often, even though he’d never had much to say and they’d spent their time together skipping stones across the lake’s surface. But the others had kept her at a distance. She was a bad influence.

Michael, however, was the only angel she’d not ever said one word to.

She’d seen him, now and then, in the early days, when she was the only human in Heaven and, as such, grudgingly invited to divine family get-togethers. On those occasions, she’d spent too much time feeling awkward and out-of-place to pay attention to the sullen figure lurking in whatever shadows were available. The one time she’d glanced his way, it had been to marvel at the stories of people getting the twins mixed up; beyond the raw basics of bone structure, Michael couldn’t have looked less like her old lover.

Bullets sprayed across the hull. Humming, Eve stepped daintily into Michael’s shadow, seconds before they started bouncing off his shoulders and chest.

“It is beneath her,” he muttered.

She made an ambiguous noise. “How d’you figure?”

There came a shout and a splash from the nearest jet ski. The bullets stopped.

“C’mon. She’s Mazikeen. Everyone in the Silver City knows about Mazikeen. Ordinarily, we couldn’t give two dry shits about Lucifer’s minions, but her? She’s a minor celebrity. The power behind Hell’s throne. Christ, it’s no secret my beloved twin couldn’t govern his way out of a paper bag.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling fondly. “He’s kind of bad at everything. Except music. He’s a great musician.”

More shouting. More shooting. More bullets bouncing off Michael’s torso. Mazikeen rode by, one hand gripping her newly-acquired jet ski’s throttle lever, the other clutching her bloodstained halberd. Watching her circle the enemy, Eve was reminded of a sheep dog.

Michael went on: “And then there’s the fact that for a while, everyone thought Lucifer was going to marry her. It was all anyone could talk about. Jophiel was taking bets on when the proposal would happen. She’d have been High Commander and the Queen of Hell. Instead? All of a sudden, Lucifer takes an indefinite vacay to the mortal realm, drags her with him, and next thing anyone knows, she’s working behind a bar.”

The remaining jet skis and their terrified, wounded riders had been neatly rounded up, which meant it was time for Eve to open her purse.

“Um – how long have those been in there?” asked Michael, watching her take out three grenades.

“You want one?” she offered. “Don’t forget to take the pin out before you throw it. I did that my first time.”

One thing to be said for millions of dull, dull years spent sitting next to God’s Greatest Warrior, skipping stones across a lake; your aim got good.

The first blast was a warning, not close enough to actually kill any of Bismarck’s men, though the resultant waves did knock several into the water. They tried to retreat, turning their vehicles around, only to remember Mazikeen, corralling them single-handed and now armed with machine guns she’d confiscated from those already bested.

When they saw the second and third grenade incoming, they gave up and abandoned the jet skis, jumping into the sea and swimming for their lives.

“Fuck!” Michael yelped, blocking his ears at the concomitant explosions.

Gazing past the debris and smoke, Eve saw Mazikeen head for the nearest of the two speedboats. Its occupants, preoccupied with aiming a rocket launcher at The Choronzon, saw her coming far too late.

“I get your point,” said Eve, as her girlfriend and her halberd made short work of the crew. “But that’s a really… how can I put this? It’s a really angelic way of looking at things. Maze doesn’t consider anything ‘beneath her’.”

“Wow. Sick burn. You’re basically admitting she has no pride.”

“Oh, she’s got pride. Tons of pride. Her pride’s just dependant on how well she does a job, not on the type of job she has. She wasn’t happy working at Lux, but that wasn’t because she thought bartending was ‘beneath her’; it was because she prefers doing things she’s good at. Customer service isn’t really one of her strengths.”

The second speedboat was abandoned by its crew mere seconds before Mazikeen rammed the first speedboat into it, cackling victoriously.

“Actually,” Eve said, moving from Michael’s shadow to where Mazikeen had earlier set a crate of peach soda – her favourite – out on the deck, “now that you mention it, I guess I’m the one with no pride. Haven’t really ever had anything to be proud of. Your Dad never gave me the chance. I was never meant to do things. I was just meant to be.”

Michael snorted. “Lucky you. Trust me; he may have softened in his later years, but back in the day he never, ever stopped riding our asses. You think Lucy really rebelled because he had better plans for how the universe should be run? Because he was an innovator? Nope. Lazy dick just hated being told to do his chores.”

By the time Mazikeen swam back to them, saltwater had washed off the blood and her ponytail had come loose.

“Oh, hey,” said Eve, gripping her hand and pulling her up. “A mermaid.”

After pressing a rough kiss to her cheek and taking a swig of peach soda, Mazikeen asked, “You okay? He did his job?”

Eve patted the angel’s shoulder – the one that wouldn’t hurt. “He was terrific! Awesome addition to the team.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Michael mumbled.

Ignoring him, Mazikeen snatched up a towel to dry her hair. “Glad to hear it. Alright! Let’s get Bismarck back to shore, get paid, and find a place to have dinner so we can toast Team Hellrazor’s first successful mission.”

“R-A-Z-O-R,” Eve informed Michael. “To make it cooler.”

Bombshell curls. The only way to celebrate victory.

“Should I even ask why your hair smells like burning plastic?” asked Britney, a sixty-four year old veteran stylist with spectacles and a bright blue bob. She’d worked in Hollywood since she was seventeen and her skilled hands, according to rumour, had tended to Viola Davis herself.

Mazikeen flipped through a magazine with the hand that wasn’t getting its nails painted red-gold by two assistants down on their knees, as intensely focused as if they were touching up The Last Supper. “Blew up some jet skis. Don’t worry about it.”

Picking up the curling iron, Britney said, “That handsome guy you and Eve came in with… new boyfriend?”

“Ha! No. Not in a million years. He’s my intern.”

Eve had only wanted a trim and, as soon as it was done, had dragged Michael away to shop for books and shoes. She was trying, without much subtlety, to work out what he liked; what he did for fun; if he was even capable of having fun. Waste of time, in Mazikeen’s opinion, especially considering that before the end of the week he’d probably run away to some dark hole where he could get back to wallowing in his bitterness. But maybe not. Eve clearly had hope and Mazikeen trusted her judgement.

As the assistants moved on to her other hand, her phone buzzed.

Glancing up to meet Britney’s gaze in the mirror, Mazikeen said, “Get that for me? My nails are wet and it’s probably Eve. Word’s got out what happens to all other humans who call me on a Saturday.”

The older woman’s blue eyebrows bounced as she picked up the phone. “Might be that tasty boss of yours!”

“Nope,” she muttered, old unhappiness flaring hot in her heart. “He only ever calls when he wants me to do something and right now, there’s nothing he can’t do himself.”

Britney held the phone up in front of her face.

There was a message from Linda.

Charlie’s missing his Auntie Maze – see u for dinner Tuesday? J <3

“Uh – are you crying?” asked Britney.

“No!” she snapped. “Just… shut up. Reply for me. Say yes. And add a knife emoji. I always use knife emojis.”

Just then, a white woman with long brown hair and skinny jeans strode purposefully into the salon.

Britney tutted and held up a hand. “Ma’am? I’m sorry, but Ms Smith has booked the entire…”

She trailed off as the woman’s eyes flashed red.

“Chantinelle,” Mazikeen greeted, spinning the chair round and crossing her legs regally. “It’s okay, Britney. She’s a friend. Well – an ally.”

Gravel-voiced, like she smoked heavily, the other demon drawled, “I’m touched, your great and gracious Majesty.”

Mazikeen snickered. “Bitch, get over here.”

With a smirk, Chantinelle marched over and planted a fierce kiss on her cheek.

“What news from Hell?” Mazikeen asked her sister.

Chantinelle briefed her while Britney and the others finished up her curls and manicure. They spoke in Lilim, Chantinelle parking her denim-clad butt on the vanity next to an arsenal of combs and keeping one eye on the door. She’d already tried twice to convince Mazikeen that a queen needed a bodyguard, to no avail.

When their meeting was concluded, Britney said, “So you’re from Holland, right? Oh! It’s a lovely country. My cousin lives there and she’s always telling me to visit.”

(Britney knew they weren’t from Holland. Britney knew they weren’t from Earth. Britney was one of those people who coped with uncomfortable realities like demons in her workplace by ignoring them.)

“Will you be coming home soon?” Chantinelle asked before she left.

Studying her reflection – avoiding her sister’s gaze – Mazikeen said, “Mmm. Yeah. Soon. Just got a few things to finish up here.”

“Well, don’t keep us waiting too long. The family misses you. I mean – it’s been years, y’know?”

“I know. I do.”

“I didn’t know you had a family,” Britney commented after Chantinelle had gone. “How come you never talk about them?”

Mazikeen handed over a wad of blood-spattered cash. “Eh. After a while, I figured out that nobody likes it when I do.”

She began making her way across the mall to Eve’s favourite shoe shop, then stopped when she approached the arcade and heard her girlfriend’s laugh over the beeps and buzzes of various games.

Unsurprised, she wandered in and found her on the Dance Dance Revolution platform, barefoot and skirt twirling as she beat the shit out of someone’s high score, surrounded by a crowd of cheering, applauding onlookers.

Michael stood off to the side, clutching three bulging shopping bags and looking mortified.

“I couldn’t stop her,” he hissed to Mazikeen. “What the hell? What the actual hell? I thought you were trying to maintain a reputation on this crummy rock! What’re your enemies going to think if this is how your allies behave in public?”

“I figure they’ll think something like, ‘Oh my God, she’s tapping that? I am going to literally die of jealousy’,” Mazikeen said, kicking off her stilettos and handing them to him. “Go fetch us some bottled water, wimp. We’ll be here for a while.”

Eve’s competitor on the adjacent platform yelped as Mazikeen shoved him off and took his place.

“Hi, pretty lady,” said Eve, her eyes sparkling. “You know I’ve been dancing for millions of years, right?”

Mazikeen grinned at her and tossed back her bombshell curls. “Bring it, beautiful.”

Out the corner of her eye, she saw Michael blush bright red.

What was he doing here?

“We are fifteen miles over the speed limit!”

Mazikeen cackled and drove faster. In the seat beside her, Eve punched the air and turned up the radio until Michael thought Rihanna’s voice would burst even his divine eardrums. (Contrary to his brother’s accusations, he did, in fact, enjoy some types of music. Just not when it was loud or fast-paced.)

“May I remind you of a crucial fact?” he demanded, having to shout to be heard. “It’s not me who’ll die if this thing flips! Angel, remember? You two are the ones who’ll be splattered all over the road! Hello? Is anybody listening to me?”

“I’m a fine-tuned supersonic speed machine,” Mazikeen sang.

The desert outside the cherry-red convertible they’d stolen in Las Vegas was a sickening blur and he hated it. Not that he’d never travelled this fast – though he was slower than just about all his siblings in the air, he could still outpace a jet. But flying under his own power couldn’t be compared to being trapped in this hideous human death trap under the command of a demon and a madwoman.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, this time to himself, gripping his seatbelt with both hands like it was the neck of an angry serpent. “Whatever happens. Even if we crash. They’ll die. I’ll be fine.”

“Hey!” called Eve, turning to look at him, squinting. “Are you really not having fun? Maze! Slow down! He’s not having fun.”

Mazikeen groaned but brought them back to a less terrifying percentage of light speed, while Eve undid her seatbelt and climbed into the back with Michael.

He sputtered. “Jesus H. Christ – you’re not supposed to do that while the vehicle is moving. Rules exist for a reason, goddammit.”

“I’m sorry we freaked you out,” Eve told him, with… confusing sincerity.

None of his siblings had ever apologised for frightening him, Lucifer least of all (“Aww – don’t be so nervous, brother!” and a golden laugh from the brave, adventurous Morningstar after he’d enticed Michael to fly with him into a hurricane for fun and the noise and sight of it had made his twin cry).

When Michael was young, he’d assumed that was because apologies were for lesser beings, like mortals – except that when he’d discovered his latent talent for underhanded pranks, his siblings had all turned around and demanded apologies from him. The pranks had become progressively mean-spirited after that.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop – for the punchline – he said, carefully, “It’s fine.”

The wind had blown Eve’s hair all over the place. As she brushed it out of her eyes, he was reminded that today she’d chosen to wear one of her thin white summer dresses, this one low-cut enough to make it clear that that was all she was wearing.

Now mischievous, she winked at him. “But you know… if I made a habit of following those rules you like so much, I’d still be married and bored out of my mind. Wanna kiss?”

He nearly jumped out of the car.

“Uh,” he croaked.

His gaze flickered past Eve’s inquisitive face to the back of Mazikeen’s head. How long did he have? How many milliseconds left before she turned around and tore out his throat in a fit of frenzied jealousy?

“Hell, yeah!” Mazikeen cheered, throwing up the horns. “One of you take a picture for me. Or, better yet, move over so I can see you in the rear view mirror.”

Eve’s chin tilted downwards as she examined Michael. “I dunno. Doesn’t seem like he’s into it. Er – yikes. Actually, I think he’s gonna throw up. Might wanna pull over, babe.”

“I’m not going to throw up! I just need… just need air. Could you sit back for a moment?” he hissed.

She did so and he got his breathing under control. Crap, his shoulder hurt so much today.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, fidgeting. “I didn’t mean to-…”

“Is this because of him?” Michael snarled, suddenly furious.

“What?”

“Him! Lucifer! He dumped you, yeah? And now you’re – what, trying to get back at him by hitting on me? Or is it just because I look like him so I’m the best substitute you can get, or-…”

She slapped him.

It hurt.

(It really did. What? Since when did getting hit by mortals hurt?)

Mazikeen whistled approvingly.

“No,” said Eve, half-growling. “I’m not like that. I don’t use people like that, Michael.”

He touched the part of his face where her skin had met his. It felt hot. Tingly. He swallowed. “Um – right. Got it.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

The anger in her eyes subsided. “Good. Now, would you like to kiss me or not? It’s fine if you don’t want to. You’ll still be part of the team. This is just for fun.”

Feeling oafish and off-kilter, he gestured at Mazikeen. “Won’t she mind?”

“Nope!” Mazikeen volunteered without hesitation.

Eve, exasperated, huffed, “I already asked her if she’d mind. Do you really think I’d put the offer on the table if I hadn’t? Whatever they say about me in the Silver City, I’m neither frivolous nor disloyal. I didn’t go behind Adam’s back when I fell in love with your brother; I told him to his face what I was doing.”

“Oh. Didn’t know that.”

“Because he didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t care. Adam was a decent man who didn’t love me at all. But Maze does, and I love her, and we’ve decided this is something we’re both okay with.”

“Yeah, most demons are poly,” Mazikeen told him. “As long as everyone’s on board and on the same page, you can hook up with whoever you like.”

“Last chance: kiss or no kiss?” said Eve.

She was close enough now for him to smell her perfume. His chest felt tight. “I don’t like ultimatums.”

“Okay. How about wagers? I bet you anything I’m the best kisser you’ve ever met. Or requests? Please, please kiss me, Michael. Or-…”

She was so warm. Her breath flowing into his mouth felt like drinking hot chocolate on a Winter’s night, sugary heat poured down his throat and filling up his whole chest.

His bones seemed to melt. He slid down the seat, half-pushed, until he lay almost flat with her on top of him, cradling his face in her hands, her thumbs making slow, comforting circles on his jaw.

“Ghnnff-fu-fuck,” he slurred.

That he was hard, and had been hard ever since he’d noticed how low-cut her dress was, seemed almost irrelevant in the face of far more interesting observations, like the soft grunts she made or the way her breasts felt pressed tight against him, until she slid a thigh between his legs.

He cried out. Arched.

“There you go,” she purred against his neck.

Elegant and effortless, she took off her shoes and her panties, and slid down onto his cock with a soft, fluttering sigh. Grabbed his hand and raised it to cover one of her nipples.

Just before he came, he opened his eyes and gazed up, and the sun had moved behind her, draining all but her edges of definition, and the wind had picked up her hair again and sent it billowing up and out, like dark wings. Like his wings.

“Michael! Ah!”

The car stopped.

“Huh,” said Mazikeen. “There’s something you don’t see every day.”

She pointed. Panting, they both followed her finger.

Across the sky, from one horizon to the next, the clouds had arranged themselves into the words

I LOVE YOU DETECTIVE !!!!

-LM

“Oh, crud,” said Eve.

Fuck the next bounty.

After thinking about it for ten seconds, Mazikeen turned them around and started driving straight for Los Angeles.

Eve can talk to him. Not me. He needs to talk to someone, and Eve will do.

Barely half a mile later, Amenadiel dropped out of the sky and landed in the middle of the road, just far enough away for her to bring the car to a screeching halt before it would otherwise have slammed into him like wet clay into a steel wall.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said, looking exhausted.

She snorted and pointed skyward. “Yeah. This? Not gonna lie, I was expecting something like this. But I thought it would take, like, at least a month.”

Wincing, Amenadiel said, “No, that’s… that’s a different problem and Chloe’s promised to discuss it with him. Maze, we need you back at Lux. Now.”

“Hi, Amenadiel!” Eve called, waving.

He succeeded in smiling at her without even glancing at Michael, despite his younger brother sitting right at her side, glaring fixedly.

“Why?” demanded Mazikeen, tensely drumming her fingers on the wheel. (Inner voice hissing, Shouldn’t have left him alone, you dumb bitch, you’ve been doing this for centuries and you know what he’s like when you leave him alone for more than five minutes.) “Seriously – what could he possibly need me for? He’s God.”

Sighing, Amenadiel put his wings away. “Mazikeen, we’re all well aware that Lucy often… has difficulty focusing. To put it mildly. There’s a lot more for him to focus on now than ever before. He’s trying to undo climate change. To that end, he started refreezing all the melted ice in the Arctic. But he did it too quickly and, resultantly, there are several hundred trapped ships we need to save and several thousand dead penguins to resurrect and, to be honest, he hasn’t really got the hang of resurrection yet – you remember what Dan looked like for the first few hours after Lucifer brought him back to life…”

“Eurgh. Yeah. Yuck. Totes not the kinda shit you’d wanna see in Happy Feet.”

Michael was snickering.

“Right. And then there are all the changes he’s been making locally,” Amenadiel went on. “The expansion of Lux, the overnight disappearance of all Los Angeles’ firearms, his deciding that the city’s white supremacist population should grow a third ear so they can be easily identified, and, well, it turns out that a lot of Chloe’s colleagues at the police station-…”

“I get it, I get it. Chaos everywhere. As usual. What, exactly, is the problem he wants me to fix?”

Amenadiel exhaled heavily. “The demons. The ones you brought from Hell to help us defeat Michael.”

“Oh, so you do remember I exist,” Michael muttered.

Stonily ignoring him, Amenadiel said, “They’re still on Earth and they’re causing trouble. The one called Dromos, in particular. He’s gathered followers and they’ve surrounded Lux.”

Her brother’s face – his real face, not the human puppet he wore – flashed through her mind’s eye; a memory from when they were unruly children and had raced through Hell together, using the stone pillars that they’d not yet known were cells as an obstacle course. She’d been faster; he, more athletic. Together with a few cousins, they’d made a fearsome team, and not even their meanest older siblings had bullied them.

She folded her arms and looked away. “They’re demons. Lucifer can deal with them. Snap his fingers and turn them into rats or whatever. Make them explode.”

“Mazikeen,” Eve murmured, soft and low, touching her shoulder. “You don’t want that. They’re your family.”

Amenadiel blinked, as though that hadn’t occurred to him. “Er… yes, there’s that. There’s also the fact that Lucifer doesn’t want all of humanity to see him as the type of God who casually annihilates his enemies; a harsh, vindictive God. He wants to be liked. To be loved.”

“Fine. So why don’t you and the other angels sort it out?”

“Come now, Maze. A bunch of angels and a bunch of demons waging war in the midst of a bustling city? Humans will die. But you’re the Queen of Hell now and, by extension, the Queen of Demons. If you command Dromos to stand down, he will. This can all be resolved peacefully.”

Eve’s fingertips were cool against her skin.

Mazikeen looked back at the sky. The cloud letters were starting to dissolve. “What does he want?”

“Who?”

“Dromos. He doesn’t act on instinct. He’s a planner. He wants something.”

Shrugging, Amenadiel said, “He shouted at me about demanding an audience with the king. I didn’t ask for details. I don’t really care. Dromos isn’t someone I’m inclined to listen to at the best of times. The last time the wretch showed his face on Earth, he kidnapped my son.”

“Mmm. Kinda like your sister was gonna do. Kinda like you were gonna do, now that I think about it.”

“Maze!” he gasped, sounding shocked and hurt. “You can’t compared poor Remiel’s misguided actions to-…”

“I’ll do it,” she interrupted. “Take me to Lux. Now.”

“Excuse me? What about us?” snapped Michael.

Mazikeen met Eve’s gentle gaze. “You don’t need to be involved in this. My family drama, it – it’s not pretty.”

“My son killed my son,” said Eve, taking her hand. “My husband loved another woman. I’m used to drama.”

Swallowing, Mazikeen glanced at Michael. “And you, wimp?”

Feigning disinterest – feigning it badly – he said, “You showed up to my last domestic dispute. Guess this’ll make us square.”

“I’ve only got two arms. I can’t carry all of you,” Amenadiel pointed out.

Mazikeen rubbed her chin. “No… but you can carry the car, right?”

He didn’t have time for this. There was so much to do.

“World hunger,” he recited as he bounced from one laptop to the next, all twenty-three of them displaying a different article or video by a leading scientific or sociological mind, “wealth inequality, pollution, cancer, droughts, racism, elderly abuse, housing shortages, cruelty to animals…”

“Lucifer,” said Linda patiently, sitting on his best couch with her legs crossed, a cup of coffee and a laptop of her own beside her. “You said you wanted my advice as to how you should manage this whole ‘being God’ business.”

“I do, doctor! Very much. Your input is invaluable. Blast, where did I put that map of Alaska? I’m thinking of making it bigger; slotting it in alongside the Arctic to help stabilise all that new ice.”

“Right. Thanks. So here – here is what I’m suggesting now; slow down. Seriously. Take a breath, step back, and think your next move through.”

He scoffed. “‘Slow down’? Doctor, I need to work at least three times faster if I’m to keep up with everything. There are people suffering everywhere, millions of them! There are sinners in need of punishment! I’m seriously considering asking Chloe to be my Deputy God. I never imagined omnipotence would entail so much paperwork and she’s always been better at that than me.”

Outside the penthouse, many stories below, the chanting grew louder. None of the human police officers, journalists, and gawkers who’d gathered to watch could understand it; it was in Lilim.

Cursing, Lucifer strode to the balcony and shouted down, “For the last time, would you all kindly piss off? I’m trying to fix an entire planet here!”

He heard the elevator open and moaned. “Detective, not now. Please. I’m very sorry I haven’t returned your calls – I swear I’m not avoiding you – it’s just that I’ve got a lot on my plate today and we did already agree to meet for supper at-…”

“Lucifer,” said Linda, sounding terrified.

“Lucifer,” said someone else, sounding irritable.

Now that he was God, rage didn’t turn his eyes red anymore. It turned them gold and blindingly bright, like spotlights. Fists clenched, he turned to see Dromos step into the penthouse, once again clad in the flesh of the late Father Kinley and wearing a leather jacket.

“Nice trick, making all the doors disappear. Finally decided to climb up the side of the building with a sledgehammer and burrow my way through into the elevator shaft,” said the demon, hands in his pockets and concrete dust coating his beard and his bald head. “I want to talk to you, sire.”

Storming across the room while Linda remained frozen, white-faced, on the couch, Lucifer snarled, “You! You have the nerve to come here, to stand before me, after what you did to my nephew?”

He took Dromos by the neck and lifted him off the ground, his wings opening in fury (he had six of them now).

Stoical even as he choked, Dromos said, “I need. To talk. I will leave immediately afterwards.”

“Oh, you’ll leave, alright! You’ll be lucky if I don’t throw you into an active volcano, you accursed traitor!”

Dromos’ stolen skin began to sizzle beneath his fingers. He waited until the demon’s face was wrinkled with pain before throwing him to the floor hard enough to crack the wood and make a crater.

“I will leave,” Dromos gasped, coughing up blood, “when I have spoken.”

“What could you possibly have to say for yourself? Kidnapper. Child-thief.”

Still on the couch, Linda said tremulously, “Lucifer, you’re… you’re hurting him. Stop it. Please.”

“Let us stay!” shouted Dromos, and coughed again before dragging himself up onto his knees. “On Earth. That’s what I came to say. Let your erstwhile subjects stay on Earth if they choose – at least, those who served you in the battle against Michael. Don’t force them to return to Hell. Let them, let us choose where we live, going forward. That’s my request, your Majesty. My only request.”

Lucifer boggled at him. “Is that a joke? Demons? On Earth, indefinitely, unsupervised? Are you out of your tiny mind, Dromos?”

Baring teeth, Dromos said, “Why not? What does it matter to you now? You’ve got everything you could possibly want. Everything anyone could possibly want! All we’re asking is the freedom to come and go as we please.”

“No.”

He spoke the word bluntly, and then he stepped back, adjusting his cuffs. Regaining his composure. “Never. You’re dangerous and untrustworthy. This world is for humans, not you. Good grief, haven’t I got enough to preoccupy my mind, without the added stress of demons rampaging around town?”

“We won’t rampage. We just-…”

“Why are you even coming to me with this? Mazikeen’s the new Queen of Hell. Didn’t you get the memo?”

Dromos wiped blood from his lips. “I don’t know if my sister and I are on speaking terms right now. And she may be Queen, but you’re God; I assumed you would be tasked with such decisions. After all, there’s never been a demon in charge of Hell before. We were told – we were always told – that only angels could rule us. I don’t doubt Mazikeen’s competence, but I…”

He seemed to run out of steam, spreading his hands and finishing weakly, “Lucifer, you’re the king. You’ve been the king for millions of years. For my entire life. Look, if you really don’t want us leaving Hell, then can you at least use your newfound power to improve it? Let us have the things mortals enjoy? Pianos, dogs, blankets, weekends, all that stuff?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “That would rather defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it? Hell is supposed to be a place of punishment. The ultimate consequence awaiting sinners. I need a carrot and a stick, Dromos. How else am I supposed to convince people to behave if I don’t? Imagine a rapist arriving in Hell and being confronted with demons playing pianos and walking their dogs. Wouldn’t have quite the desired effect, would it?”

Dromos was quiet for a moment, then said without inflection, “Perhaps you could find somewhere else to put rapists. Somewhere other than our home.”

Throwing up his arms, Lucifer said, “More demands! Don’t you see how selfish you’re being? Here I am, doing my best to end all suffering, and you’re complaining about babysitting a few evil-doers – which, might I remind you, is your job. Nay, your very reason for existence. Always has been. Why’re you getting stroppy about it now?”

“I think,” Linda began, taking a tentative step forward before stopping and clearing her throat. “Excuse me. May I interrupt? Um. Okay, so I think that maybe Dromos has a point here, Lucifer.”

“Doctor! This is the creature that stole your baby!”

“Yes, I know. And I’m not saying I forgive him for that, but…”

“I wasn’t going to eat the brat,” Dromos grumbled. “I was going to make him a king.”

“You took him away from his mother!” Lucifer shouted.

“Gentlemen!” said Linda, sharply. “Please! Let’s try to talk this through like adults.”

Overcome with frustration, and only vaguely aware that he’d not been sleeping well lately, Lucifer kicked the nearest chair. “I can’t believe you’re siding with him, doctor.”

“I’m not siding with anyone. I-…”

“You don’t know these people like I do. You didn’t spend millions of years in Hell alongside them. The only demon you’ve ever gotten acquainted with is Maze, and she’s not like the others; even without a soul, she’s learned how to behave like a more-or-less civilised adult, barring the occasional tantrum. But your average, baseline demon has nothing to them besides wrath and cruelty. Lilith made them to be weapons and that’s all they really are. I mean – just imagine, for a moment, how hard it was for me. To go from the Silver City, the most beautiful place ever created, to a lightless nightmare realm full of these bloodthirsty animals. To be surrounded by them, for endless eons, while they nattered mindlessly on and on about how much they love torture and pain and…”

He trailed off. Linda and Dromos were both looking past him.

To the elevator. Where – oh – Mazikeen was standing.

Where Mazikeen was crying.

No sobs, not like when Dan had died. No expression at all, really. Just open eyes, motionless muscles, and steady tears.

Before Lucifer could say a word, she pressed the button to close the elevator doors.

“Wait!” he yelped, sprinting over to stop them.

He needn’t have bothered. Now that he was God, objects did whatever he told them to do. The doors stilled, half-open.

“That sounded wrong,” he acknowledged, clasping her shoulders in apology. “You completely missed the context. What I was trying to say was-…”

“Don’t touch me.”

It was a phrase he’d heard many times before from mortal lovers to whom he had accidentally revealed his Devil Face. Some of them said it in horror. Some of them, the religious ones, said it in anger.

Mazikeen looked neither horrified nor angry. She looked sick. As though the very sight of him turned her stomach.

Lumbering over, Dromos stepped into the elevator alongside her and pointedly pressed the button again. With no idea what to do or say, Lucifer allowed the machinery to work.

The elevator closed.

“What have I done?” he asked Linda.

Nothing I didn’t know.

“Maze?” called Eve, waiting by the car with the others as Mazikeen stepped out of Lux’s front door and into the sunlight.

The door hadn’t been there when they’d arrived. She’d been forced to use Dromos’ route. Lucifer must have decided to put it back. He could do that now. Just decide things. Didn’t need servants, nor followers, nor anyone. Sure didn’t need a ‘more-or-less civilised adult’ whose kin were animals.

“Maze! Wait!”

Mazikeen didn’t know where she was going, only that she was walking very quickly and felt that she’d die if she stopped. She heard Eve’s heels patter on the pavement and heard her say her name a third time, quiet and worried, and that was what stilled her feet.

“What happened?” murmured Eve, cupping her face.

The fifty or so demons who’d been standing around outside Lux when Amenadiel had set the car and its passengers down were still there. Instead of chanting to get their king’s attention, they were now looking at her.

Michael and Amenadiel stood among them, the latter having been trying to convince them to stop blocking traffic.

Which was what she should have been doing. It was what he’d brought her here to do. But she’d been gripped by a sudden, violent need to see Lucifer, to check on him, just quickly, before tending to her siblings. Once a bodyguard, always a bodyguard.

Except that wasn’t what I was. Not to him. To him, I was a Rottweiler on a leash.

“Are you alright?” asked Amenadiel, his eyes overflowing with concern.

That was what cracked her.

To him. Not to everyone. Not to Eve, or Amenadiel, or Linda. It’s not that I’m incapable of earning love and respect.

I’m just incapable of earning his.

Her legs gave out. She crumpled against Lux’s outside wall and started to weep properly, loud and bitter.

Eve immediately dropped down beside her, holding her tight. Michael shuffled closer, rubbing his shoulder while his mouth opened and shut, testing out sentences that were never spoken.

Then Dromos was there, kneeling, his face sad and tired.

“We did what we were told,” she said to him in Lilim, through sniffles. “We obeyed. We were loyal. We… we…”

“We are alone, sister,” he replied. “But I think we always were.”

“We obeyed!”

“We obeyed Lilith and she left. We obeyed Lucifer and he left. No one wants us, Mazikeen. It’s just the truth.”

She took a shuddering breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “No. I want us.”

Seizing his jacket’s shoulder, she hauled herself to her feet and addressed the crowd, her voice raw: “I want you! You’re my family and I want you! And I swear I will be the queen you deserve, for as long as you’ll have me!”

Her human skin fell away, the left side of her face turning cold, bony, and brittle.

Stepping back to join their siblings, Dromos asked hesitantly, “What would you have us do, then, my queen? What are your orders?”

Hurriedly drying her eyes, she studied them one by one. “Whoever wants to can stay here. But I’m going home. Hell is going to be ours, Dromos. No more damned souls. No more angels. It’s ours now and we’re going to make it into something we can love.”

She turned to face Eve and Michael, her heart pounding. “You’ll come with me, yeah? You’ll stand with me?”

“Always,” said Eve, closing in to kiss her.

“Whatever,” Michael muttered, clearly just relieved that the crying part was over.

Amenadiel sighed, shaking his head gravely. “Mazikeen, are you sure this is what you want? You won’t be able to leave Hell on your own – you’ll need to contact me.”

“Yeah. At least until this one grows his feathers back,” she said, gesturing at Michael. “That’s okay. You’ll always come when I call, right?”

“Of course. You’re my friend, Maze. I’m sorry if I haven’t said that often enough.”

Fuck it. Cringing on the inside, Mazikeen drew Amenadiel into a quick, gruff hug. “You too, idiot.”

TO BE CONTINUED

#lucifer #mazikeen #lucifer morningstar #eve #michael #michael demiurgos #amenadiel #dan espinoza #linda martin #fanfic #my fic

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robinrunsfiction · 4 years

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A Long Way Home - Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Gerard Way x Female Reader Rating: General Requested By: Anon Word Count: ~7900 total, about ~4450 in part 2 (minus the song lyrics used) Author’s Note: The song featured is Audience of One by Rise Against, it can be found in the playlist, here. I hope you enjoy the conclusion to the story!

As the tour rolled on, (YN) started to wonder if maybe there was a chance that the crazy commenters online were right about the possibility of her and Gerard being something.

It seemed like he always made time to see them perform now, and talked to her when he got the chance. It was never overtly flirtatious, but she couldn't help but wonder and hope that he was trying to get closer to her.

Unfortunately the tour had reached the halfway point and that meant saying goodbye to Taking Back Sunday. (YN) felt so thankful that she could now count Adam, John, Shawn and Mark among her friends.

Now Crystal Lake Cemetery had joined the tour and the overall vibe shifted. There had been such a welcoming camaraderie at first, but the new band didn't seem to want much to do with anyone else, returning to their own bus after their set was done. Rebecca and Jake took their lead, leaving Liam and (YN) to hang out with My Chem whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Now it was finally one of the rare days where there was enough time between shows to get a night in a hotel. Everyone appreciated the chance to get a decent shower and sleep in a real bed.

Everyone except (YN). She found herself on a couch in the hotel lobby after going out for dinner and drinks with Liam. He had started chatting with a guy, and ended up bringing him back to the hotel. All she could do now was wait for him to let her know it was ok to come back to the room and scroll through social media.

Up in his room, Gerard was doing the same when he noticed the square icon at the top of his phone. He smiled to himself when he saw that it was a notification that (YN) had updated her story. He opened it up and saw it was a selfie of her pouting dramatically. With the caption "i havent been sexiled from a room since that semester i went to college 😫"

‘Where are you?’

The DM from Gerard surprised (YN), not only because he saw her post, but how quickly after posting it he responded.

‘Lobby. Liam brought a guy back, so I'm waiting for the all clear to go back up.’

‘Wanna hang out in my room?’

(YN) felt her heart rate shoot up. ‘Sure’ she replied as casually as she could with shaking fingers.

‘529′ he replied moments later and she jumped up, hurrying to the elevator. The ride up felt like it was moving painfully slow. She tried to keep her pace casual as she walked down the hall and smiled at Luke and Will, two of the members of Crystal Lake Cemetery who were talking in the doorway of the room across the hall, before knocking on Gerard's door.

“Hey,” he greeted her with a smile and she tried to keep from letting her knees go weak.

“Hey, thanks for inviting me up. I was getting kinda bored in the lobby,” she laughed as she walked in.

“Of course. Umm, wanna watch a movie?" Gerard asked as he made his way over to the couch.

"Sure, whatever's on," (YN) replied as she sat down next to him. She couldn’t help but wonder who designed the layout of the room with the couch not actually facing the tv as she found herself sitting sideways.

"Looks like The Martian is about to start, have you seen it?"

"Once when I was in a hotel room in Rochester, but I had taken so many cold meds that day, I'm pretty sure I thought I was a martian," she laughed. "I was so sick that tour. I hate when they schedule shows in the winter."

“I agree, those are always kinda miserable, seems like everything is always cold and wet. Oh, do you wanna stretch out?” He asked when he noticed how she was shifting uncomfortably.

“Sure,” she laughed a little nervously as she stretched her legs out over his lap. It wasn’t much later that her eyelids began to grow heavy and the next thing she knew, she was waking up as the end credits were playing, and her head was against Gerard's shoulder. Then she realized his arm was around her, his other hand on her shin, rubbing small circles, almost absentmindedly. "I guess I'm never gonna see this movie," she mumbled, feeling a little awkward.

"That's too bad, it was pretty good," Gerard laughed.

(YN) picked up her phone from where it had slid to the floor and saw that Liam still hadn't messaged her. "Damn dude," she muttered.

"Hmm?"

"Oh, Liam still hasn't given me the all clear. I guess him and this guy really hit it off.”

"How are things with the other two? They never seem to be around much."

"Weird. I dunno, something is going on and no one is talking about it. Well no, they're talking about it, but not to us. Liam overheard Rebecca telling Jake that I’m selfish and I care more about the band as a concept than as four people making music together," she sighed. "And I do see it now that it's been pointed out."

Gerard shook his head. "I get it, I was the same way the first time round. I wanted everything to be the way I envisioned it in my head, I had that goal that I was working toward and that was all I was focused on. Though, for what it's worth, I think you're pretty great."

"Stop," she replied, covering her face with her hands to hide the fact that she was blushing.

"I'm not kidding," he said tugging at her wrists. When she looked up, he was smiling softly at her.

She shook her head. "Anyway, can I crash on your couch tonight? I'm not sure the staff would appreciate a rock star sleeping in the lobby."

"You take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch," Gerard replied.

"Gee, no, I'm the one who is invading your space!" She said getting up.

"I invited you," he replied, getting up as well.

"Share?" The word tumbled out of her mouth before she could even realize what she said.

Gerard looked a little caught off guard. “Oh, umm, yea-”

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to. Again, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, (YN), it’s fine,” he shook his head. “Please don’t worry, we can share.”

She nodded. “Ok, fine.”

The next morning she woke up and Gerard was still sleeping peacefully next to her. That was a sight she felt like she could really get used to and had to restrain herself from reaching out and brushing the hair from his face. He looked so peaceful and it warmed her heart. She rolled over and checked her almost dead phone, and found Liam had finally messaged her.

‘Ok, you can come back now’

‘Yooooooooooooo where are you i wanna talk to you come back’

‘For real text me back, i’m getting worried, if ur dead an its my fault im gonna be so mad at you’

She tried not to laugh out loud and wake Gerard. ‘I’m fine, found another room to crash in, we’ll talk soon 😁’

“Hey,” Gerard mumbled sleepily next to her.

“Hi. Thanks for letting me stay here last night,” she said as she rolled over and smiled at him.

“Anytime. I really like hanging out with you (YN).”

“Same. We should do it more often," she offered with a shrug.

"I'd love that," he replied softly.

"I should get going, Liam sent me about 100 texts," she said shaking her head. She got up and gathered the few things she had brought with her to Gerard's room. "Thanks again," she said. She didn't realize what she was doing when she held her arms out for a hug.

He smiled and got up and wrapped his arms around her. Her heart was pounding so hard she worried he would notice, but he was so warm and smelled good, she quickly forgot her worried.

Eventually she pulled back, and gave him a wave before heading out. When she opened the door, she noticed the door across the hall quickly close. She shook her head in confusion as she headed back to her room.

From that day on, things began to get strange. Garden of Woe's gear and wardrobe carts were moved into different rooms, their dinner orders were cancelled, and at a soundcheck Liam and Rebecca both found their instruments wildly out of tune, despite the guitar tech claiming he had tuned them before any of the bands came in.

“It feels like someone is fucking with us,” Liam said shaking his head as he and (YN) hung out with My Chem’s in their dressing room.

“The only thing that’s different is Crystal Lake Cemetery is here now,” Mikey said cautiously.

“Why would they be messing with us though? Are they hazing us?” (YN) asked. “I’ve never experienced anything like this, and we aren’t close enough to them for this to be okay.”

“I’m gonna have the tour manager talk to them, it’s not right that this is happening to you,” Gerard said from his spot next to (YN).

“Thanks,” (YN) smiled up at him appreciatively.

“Of course,” he replied looking back at her fondly. They were again oblivious to the looks being exchanged by their friends around them.

The talk must have worked, as nothing further was done to mess with the bands stuff, but what (YN) didn’t know was how the rumor mill was now working overtime.

“I can’t deal with this, I fucking can’t deal with this. Fuck this, fuck you, I can’t believe it,” (YN) snapped before rushing out of the dressing room. Tears stung at her eyes, blurring her vision so she couldn’t see who she ran into. "Fuck, sorry."

“Woah, (YN) what’s wrong?” She heard Gerard ask. She just shook her head in response and looked up at the ceiling, trying in vain to keep the tears in place. She felt Gerard taking her arm and leading her into another dressing room for privacy. But as soon as the door was shut behind them, she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

"It's over, it's all over," (YN) sobbed.

"What is? What's going on?" Gerard asked, concerned, rubbing her arms.

"Rebecca and Jake are leaving the band at the end of the tour."

"What?! Why?"

"They're gonna go have a kid and be a family and leave us behind," she wailed, the tears coming harder again. Gerard pulled her in tight and let her cry on his shoulder.

(YN) had no sense of how long she had been crying when she finally felt herself calming down and her tears slowing. "I'm so so sorry. You don't need to be bothered by my stupid problems. You're like the most important person here and I'm nobody. I’m nobody with no band anymore," (YN) said pulling back and wiping her eyes. She was thankful she hadn't put on her stage makeup yet, or his olive jacket would have been ruined.

Gerard shook his head, his eyes soft and full of sadness for her. "No, you’re important to me. And yea your band is gonna change, but you’re so talented, so is Liam, you're gonna do amazing things.”

“You think?” she asked looking up at him and he nodded. “Thank you for helping me calm down.”

“Anytime.”

She realized his hands had settled on her waist, and she looked back up at him as she clung to his jacket, to find he was still smiling down at her softly. This was the dream for her. Well, not the part where she found out half her band was leaving, but being held by Gerard Way while on tour together. The fan fic was practically writing itself in her mind until she felt her phone vibrating in her back pocket.

“Ugh, I gotta go deal with this,” she replied when she saw the text messages rolling in from Clark in all capital letters with many expletives and exclamation marks.

Garden of Woe's show that night was not their best, but no one spoke of it, mainly due to none of the band members speaking to each other at all. The bus ride to the next town was silent and when they arrived, Liam and (YN) found a private place to talk about the situation alone.

"I can learn drums, and play and sing like Don Henley. Or we could call Dallon and Ryan and see if they wanna form a supergroup? I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND Garden of Woe?" (YN) suggested.

"Genius," Liam laughed. "But (YN), we're gonna be fine. We'll figure this out as we go along. Well take a break and maybe they'll even change their minds."

"Jake maybe, but I doubt Rebecca will. She's been on edge for a long time, I just don't know if this life was ever for her. Maybe she's doing exactly what she needs to."

"What was it she called you?" Liam smirked.

"Scene whore," (YN) laughed darkly as she shook her head.

"Yea, that was something else.”

"I don't wanna talk about this anymore. I got my call with my therapist in five minutes."

"You doing ok?" Liam asked, concern crossing his face.

"This whole situation just reminded me a lot of what my mom did. Bailing on us to form a new family and all that."

Liam nodded thoughtfully, remembering how betrayed (YN) had felt when her mom left. "I get it," he replied as (YN) got up. "But hey."

"What?" (YN) stopped in her tracks.

"Remember what got you through back then?"

A smile fought its way across (YN)'s face. "Listening to hours and hours of My Chemical Romance?" Liam shrugged with a smug smile. "I'll give it a shot," (YN) laughed.

That night as she stood off stage (YN) felt like she was going to puke. The crowd was already so loud and the lights hadn’t even gone down yet.

“Ready?” Liam asked.

“Not at all,” she shook her head. “But fuck it, let’s go.”

The duo walked out on stage, where two stools and microphones were set up, a spotlight shining down. “What’s up California?!” (YN) shouted and the crowd cheered. “We are half of Garden of Woe, unfortunately Rebecca and Jake are both feeling under the weather tonight, so we’re gonna do a short acoustic set for you and then Crystal Lake Cemetery is gonna be out here to do an extra long set to get you hyped up for My Chemical Romance!”

The crowd cheered, albeit less enthusiastically than before. (YN) felt like shit lying to the audience like that, but Rebecca and Jake couldn’t be convinced to come off the bus, and it was either they do a modified set, or give up their time on stage altogether. The duo started with a couple of their best songs that sounded good while being played acoustically.

“Ok, we have one more song for you, it’s a cover of a song that means a lot to me by Rise Against. It’s called Audience of One. Thanks again guys you’ve been amazing,” (YN) said and Liam started playing. (YN) knew that it would take a miracle to make it through the song without breaking down.

I can still remember The words and what they meant As we etched them with our fingers In years of wet cement The days blurred into each other Though everything seemed clear We cruised along at half speed But then we shifted gears We ran like vampires from a thousand burning suns But even then we should have stayed But we ran away Now all my friends are gone Maybe we've outgrown all the things that we once loved Runaway But what are we running from? A show of hands from those in this audience of one Where have they gone? Identities assume us As nine and five add up Synchronizing watches To the seconds that we lost I looked up and saw you I know that you saw me We froze but for a moment In empathy I brought down the sky for you but all you did was shrug You gave my emptiness a name Then you ran away And now all my friends are gone Maybe we've outgrown all the things that we once loved Runaway But what are we running from? A show of hands from those in this audience of one Where have they gone? We're all okay, until the day we're not The surface shines, while the inside rots We raced the sunset and we almost won We slammed the brakes, but the wheels went on We ran away And now all my friends are gone Maybe we've outgrown all the things that we once loved Runaway But what are we running from? A show of hands from those in this audience of one Where have they gone?

The tears streamed down (YN)’s face as she finished singing. She didn’t know if the crowd could see it or not, and she didn’t know if she cared either way. She waved with Liam at the crowd and retreated off the stage. As soon as they were out of sight, he wrapped her in a tight hug and she cried against his shoulder.

After calming down and washing her face, (YN) and Liam went out to the merch booth to sign for fans but not many turned up. As they headed back through the corridors of the venue, they spotted Clark heading toward them.

"If it isn't my favorite PR nightmare," Clark said, annoyance clear in his voice.

(YN) and Liam looked at each other. “Oooh, Liam’s in trouble,” (YN) sing-songed with a smirk.

“Not him.”

"Wait what did I do?" (YN) asked, eyes going wide, as Liam snickered.

“In here,” Clark said, nodding toward the dressing room door, shutting it behind them. "When did you start hooking up with Gerard?"

"What?! We haven't done anything, where did you hear that?!"

"Apparently just about everyone else on the tour is talking about it. They’re saying you've spent nights with him, you’ve been spotted ducking into abandoned dressing rooms with him."

"Well yea, I mean I stayed over in his room when Liam was hooking up with that guy in Texas, but we just hung out! And the dressing room thing, I don't even know when that would be other than that time I ran into him and he was comforting me when I was upset about Rebecca and Jake. Who would make something out of nothing?"

“People love starting rumors, especially about big names,” Clark shrugged. "If this gets out of just this bubble, people are gonna think-"

"Yea, yea, I know what people are gonna think," (YN) waved him off.

"We have enough problems coming up at the end of this tour, can you at least make sure this isn’t one of them?" Clark sighed before leaving the room.

Liam let out a long sigh as well. "I'm sure he's making a big deal outta nothing, don't you think?"

(YN) didn't answer, she had her head in her hands, staring at the floor. "What if Gerard thinks I started those rumors? What if he never wants to hang out with me ever again because he thinks I read too much into when we've hung out and think there's more to our friendship than there is? Now even if we ever had a chance at something more, it's ruined."

The last few nights of the tour dragged by, but they were finally back in LA for the final four shows at the Forum. The bands were given the option of staying in a hotel near the venue, but (YN) just wanted to go home. She was tired of going out of her way to avoid everyone, especially Gerard, and she wanted some peace and quiet, even if it meant dealing with traffic.

(YN) unlocked the door to her apartment and walked in, dumping her luggage just inside the door. She breathed in the stale air that filled the apartment from being closed up for two months. She felt like she was going to be taking on the world when she left, and now she was home feeling utterly defeated.

She wandered over into the kitchen and opened the fridge. It was filled with nothing but condiments that were very possibly expired. She checked the pantry and found a stash of canned soup and spaghettios. She got a pot of spaghettios heated up before moving on to her laundry.

As she threw her clothes into the washer, she wondered what she’d wear to the show tonight. Did it matter? These were the last four shows that the band would be performing together and she had to pretend like everything was fine. Should she really live it up, or give up? (YN) trudged back to her kitchen and started eating her half warm lunch straight out of the pot. Was this what her life was about to become? Miserable and alone?

That night when she arrived at the venue she hid in the dressing room until sound check. She continued to avoid everyone except Liam until the show started. After, she went to sign for the fans and for the first time she didn’t hurry back to see My Chemical Romance play. Her heart broke as she heard the first notes. She wondered if Gerard noticed she wasn't there. She wondered if he was glad she wasn't bothering him anymore.

As she laid in her bed the morning of the last show, staring up at the ceiling, she couldn’t help the tears that rolled down her cheeks. She had barely slept the last few nights, her mind racing, and she felt like shit. She dragged herself out of bed and down to the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee and staring at her still bare pantry, the last can of spaghettios staring back at her. She sighed, the feeling of defeat over everything hitting her harder than it had yet.

Her doorbell ringing made her jump, pulling her from her thoughts. For a second she considered not answering. But when it rang again she decided to check who was interrupting her self-pity fest.

"Gerard? What the hell are you doing here?" She asked when she opened the door. "And how do you know where I live?"

"Liam told me.”

"Has he told you my blood type and social security number as well?" She sneered, but held the door open for him to come in.

"I was worried about you, (YN)," he said softly, his eyes filled with worry.

"Gee," she started running her hands through her hair frustratedly. "How could you possibly care about me? I am useless damaged goods! I'm barely functional! I've been eating spaghettios for the last four days because I can't bring myself to go to the store. My band is about to break up, and meanwhile people think I fucked my way onto the tour of a lifetime. Everything is," her voice started to crack as she sank down on the couch. “This was supposed to be the best thing ever, and it was at first, but now it’s ruined and you should hate me.”

“Why?” He asked as he sat down next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“Don’t you think I started those rumors about us?” She looked up at him.

“No!” he replied. “God no, I know you better than that (YN). And I know those assholes from Crystal Lake Cemetery. Now I wish we never had to bring them along on this tour because it meant that I’ve had to spend time away from you these last few days.”

(YN) was dumbfounded. “Do, do you mean that?”

Gerard nodded. “Mikey told me like the second day of tour just to ask you out, but I didn’t think I’d have a chance in hell with you. And then I got to know you even better and I, I knew I was falling for you, but I still don’t believe you could feel the same way about me.”

“How could I not?” She asked, astonished.

“Because you’re this amazing up and coming star, you’re beautiful, and funny and could get any guy you could possibly want and I’m older than you, I got an ex that everyone knows and still brings up and a kid. Because I got this grey hair, and I look like this,” he said gesturing to his body as he looked down forlornly.

“Gerard, stop it,” (YN) snapped. “I will not tolerate you being so mean to someone I love.”

His head shot up, eyes wide. "(YN), do you mean that? Do you really want me?"

"More than you could ever know," she whispered, not breaking eye contact.

Gerard leaned in and kissed (YN) hard. She immediately responded by grabbing his jacket to pull him closer before reaching up to run her hand through his hair. His hands were on his waist as he leaned into her. She took the lead, pulling him back so he was laying over her on the couch. He deepened the kiss as she let him move his tongue against hers.

When they came up for air, Gerard brushed the hair out of her eyes and she laughed lightly. “I missed that sound,” he said quietly. “God, I love you (YN). Fuck what anyone says, I wanna be with you, if you’ll have me.”

“I thought that kiss made it pretty clear I do,” she laughed softly again and he blushed. “Because I love you too, everything about you.”

He leaned in and kissed her again. “Would you like to go get lunch before we gotta be at the venue?” He asked when he pulled back.

“I would love nothing more than to not eat another can of spaghettios and get lunch with you,” she laughed.

They grabbed lunch at one of Gerard’s favorite spots, finding a secluded corner where they could talk away from any fans who might just happen to stop in. (YN) had been spending so much time with Gerard before Clark told her about the rumors that she felt like they had so much to catch up on after just a few days apart.

“So how was this for a first date?” Gerard asked after they finished eating.

“Perfect,” (YN) nodded contentedly. Gerard was looking at her with a soft smile on his face. “What?” she laughed.

“I’m just really happy,” he said, taking her hand.

“For the first time in quite a while, I am too,” she agreed.

When Liam saw Gerard and (YN) walking into the venue together, he sighed in relief. “Hey guys,” he said tentatively. “Everything good?”

(YN) nodded. “Yea, we got it all sorted out,” she said glancing up at Gerard, who was smiling back at her.

“Good because tonight should be the best show of the tour, and I could not put up with any more of your moping (YN),” Liam laughed.

“Thank you for your support in my time of need,” (YN) rolled her eyes.

“Gerard, there you are, you’re on for soundcheck,” the very tired look tour manager called from down the hall.

“I’ll see you later,” he said leaning in and gave (YN) a quick kiss before heading down the hall.

“So when you said sorted out,” Liam started.

“We’re together,” she blushed.

“My god, your 16 year old self must be dying right now,” Liam laughed.

“Stop,” (YN) shook her head before heading back to their dressing room.

When Garden of Woe took the stage for the last time, everyone played well, and the crowd was going crazy, but (YN) was struggling to act as if nothing was wrong. Her heart felt heavy until she glanced to the side of the stage and saw Gerard leaning against a crate, giving her a nod and a smile, reminding her that everything would be okay.

“Are you ok?” Gerard asked, wrapping her in a hug after the band took their last bow.

“Yep. Things change, but I think everything has ended up exactly where it needs to be,” she nodded before leaning in to kiss him again.

#gerard way x reader #gerard way fan fic #gerard way fan fiction #gerard way imagine #my chemical romance fan fic #my chemical romance fan fiction #part 2

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irwintry · 4 years

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hiiii babe sorry to bother youuu can i request a lil writing where the reader is rlly good friends with 5sos and luke ash and mikey think her and cal are both hopelessly in love with each other and at the very end they confess??? youre the bestest💖🥺

hi babe! i’d love to :-) p.s. you’re the bestest best

He had one hand on the wheel, another curled around the gear shift while he tapped mindlessly to the latest pop song on the radio. Physically, he was in the same care as you, but mentally, you knew he was knocking back drinks on a beach somewhere far from reality. Work consumed him; it consumed all of them.

You kept quiet, not a thought in your mind on the ride over to Luke’s. The pseud cat-and-mouse game you conjured up in your head had been going on for too long for it to overwhelm. Most days, you pretended your feelings for Calum hardly existed at all. So, you tapped to the beat of the song and stared out the window at the setting sun. A few drinks with friends would get your mind off of it.

Their only job failed as the night dragged on.

Calum’s head was elsewhere for hours. His shifty eyes trained on posters and unimportant objects in the room before settling back on you. Once your brows furrowed in concern, he pressed his lips into a thin line and rejoined the conversation.

“Okay, whoever bought this cider—” Michael began, voice booming loud over the four others. “—I’m in love with you.”

“I’ve literally never tasted anything so heavenly before,” Ashton said against a sloppy slurp on the cider can’s rim.

“That’s what she said.”

“Oi, fuck off.”

“Y/N brought them,” Calum said monotonously, although you could see a small smile grow on his lips.

Michael’s jaw dropped dramatically. You could visualize the drunken thoughts swirling around his brain. “We’re in love?”

A giggle left your lips. “Only if you say so, Mikey.”

“How’s Y/N gonna be in love with that—” Luke pointed at Michael across from him. “—when they can have this.” His finger moved toward Calum.

Your chest felt hot, but only for a brief moment. Calum’s eyebrows knotted as a short laugh left his lips. And then, in those few split seconds, you swore you saw something else flash over him. Was he nervous?

“What the hell’re you talkin’ about, mate?” Michael asked. Everyone was all laughter and smiles, brains buzzing with light intoxication while a bowl of chips was passed between the group. It never mattered how much Michael drank—his voice carried high above everyone else’s.

“Oh, c’mon, Mike,” Ashton chimed in, “you’ve seen it. These dumbasses—” He motioned to you and Calum. “—are hopelessly in love. You can see it in their eyes. They scream desperate romance.”

“Care to explain what you mean by desperate romance?” you said to Ashton.

“No.”

“How’ve you not seen it, Michael?” Luke said.

Michael looked properly taken aback by his friends. Meanwhile, Calum stayed silent through it all. He seemed amused, but you pretended that his silence spoke words only you needed to hear.

You folded your arms over your chest. “Do I get any say in this?” you asked.

“Why—are you gonna deny it?”

Your mouth went dry. “Well, I—I just wanna know why you think we’re in love. That’s all. Relax. You guys are so accusatory tonight.”

“Cos’ you two are the most lovesick-y pair of airhead lovebirds that I’ve ever seen,” Ashton said through laughter. He took a quick sip of the cider you brought. “You’re attached at the hip—practically meltin’ into each other.”

“I—what?” Your eyes found Calum across the living room. He had his jaw clenched until his eyes found yours in return. They were wide—panicked almost, and his hands fidgeted with his can of cider to keep busy.

The more you looked at him, the more you understood why his friends felt this way.

Calum stood a second later. “’M gonna take a piss.”

“Lovely, mate,” said Michael. “Thanks for sharing.”

“Anytime.”

You watched with a frown as Calum left down the hall. Something in your chest pulled, telling you to go after him and talk the last few seconds through. The more you let time pass, the larger the feeling grew. It was building in your stomach like a heavy, dark mass.

The conversation between the other boys faded into something of little nonsense. So, you stood too, barely glancing back as you hurried down the hall. Your fingers had fallen numb.

You shifted weight between your feet until the bathroom door opened a minute later. Calum raised his brows, allowing room for you to squeeze by him, but you didn’t budge.

“You all right?” he asked. His pouting lips were already a distraction.

“Did that bother you?” you said breathlessly. You could still hear the close chatter of the other three in the living room as you spoke. “Back in there? A-about the whole—”

Calum shook his head. Now, he seemed unaffected and confused. “No. It was—it was just banter. Between friends. I mean—” He chuckled and scratched his nose. Now, you could see the nerves peaking through. “—we’re close. They’re gonna make fun of us no matter what we do.”

“They think we’re in love.”

“Yeah. They made that pretty clear.”

You didn’t know how to edge it out of him. You didn’t know why the words felt like molasses on your tongue or why your chest ignited with sparks when he kept his eyes locked on you. You didn’t know why you were desperate to reveal everything right then and there because your best friends had innocently joked around with you. But you wanted the feeling to leave you alone. A confessional was worth it to get the thoughts out of your mind.

“Do you think we’re in love?” you ended up asking.

Calum didn’t react. He didn’t speak. He stared at you as if the answer would be spoken for him. But his eyes softened, the corner of his lips twitching before spreading into a smile.

“I, um—” He hugged his arms tight. “Sometimes I think that. Yeah.”

“Sometimes.”

“Do you?”

You nodded slowly. “Sometimes.”

Calum grinned until crinkles appeared beside his eyes. Nevertheless, you still couldn’t read him. Whether he was happy with your answer or playfully amused, all you wanted was a solid answer. Did he reciprocate your feelings or not?

“You’re in love with me, darling?” he asked.

You hadn’t expected to answer that. “I-I—” Your throat closed up, and it wasn’t because Calum’s tongue had slipped over his bottom lip. “You’re making this so hard on me.” You managed a small chuckle, but the sweat collecting on the back of your neck proved that you weren’t joking. You pressed your hands to your cheeks as heat spread into them.

“I’m so sorry—no, you don’t have t’answer that.” Calum took your wrists carefully. He lowered your hands down to your sides but his touch never left. “It’s just really nice to hear that you’ve thought about it. About us.”

“You have, too?”

“Course, babe.” He chuckled. “Like, all the time.”

You couldn’t help but smile now. “Really?”

He nodded. “We’re not gonna tell them any of this when we get back in there, all right? Cos’ then they’re gonna be all we told you so and get all high-horse-y on us. Sometimes secrets are fun. And, um—I kinda just wanna see where this goes. I-If that’s cool with you.”

“You mean, you’re in? You wanna—you would wanna—”

Calum cut you off with a laugh and a quick peck to your lips. When he pulled away, you were certain your heart had stopped.

“I’m in,” he said after a few seconds. “Are you?”

You tugged him down by the neck, reattaching your lips in a soft kiss. It was warm all over. A kiss that made you addicted to his touch. “I’m definitely in,” you breathed out with a smile.

“That was cute—can I pee now?” Michael asked from behind.

Calum’s hand slipped from your waist. “Did you hear all of that?” he said.

“Only the part about not telling us and so on,” Michael explained, quirking a brow. “But fuck ‘em—I’ll keep your secret. As long as you don’t tell Luke I’m using his deodorant.”

You grimaced as Calum laughed. “Deal.”

The bathroom door shut, and Calum wrapped his arms around your waist once again.

“You wanna get out of here?”

#5sos #5sos blurb #calum hood #calum hood blurb #my writing #blurb #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer blurb #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #michael clifford

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sunkisseddaffodils · 4 years

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Johnlock Office workers AU where they work at the same same wedding planner business and Mike and Lestrade are trying to set them up by making them work on the same wedding but to make sure everything runs smoothly, Mike and Lestrade make them “act out” the wedding ceremony

Pairing: sherlock x john

Genre: fluff

Note: You can submit a request for a Sherlock fic by clicking on my profile <3

‘Matchmakers: Office Workers AU’

It was a quiet morning in the office of ‘Mycroft’s and Co. Wedding Organiser’s’, just before the workday had begun. Mycroft and Lestrade, who were very happily married, arrived ten minutes before 9:00 and set up their things in the main office. Lestrade looked at Mycroft, growing concerned as he could see that his husband was deep in thought as he was setting up for the day. Five minutes later and the workers came pouring in, clearly already wanting to head back home. Mycroft was checking through the list of the day’s clients when Greg tapped on his antique wooden desk.

‘Hiya sweetie, I know when you’re up to something and your face is plastered with guilt. So for christ’s sake, what are you up too?’

Mycroft was about to let him in on the plan when his brother, Sherlock and his flatmate, John, came barging in the office quarrelling loudly with each other. They continued to bicker as they slammed their stuff down on their desks, causing everyone to look over at them.

‘This is your fault, Sherlock!’

Sherlock looked appalled at John’s remark

‘What do you mean it’s my fault?’

‘You know full well, why’, John spat out.

Then he sighed in exasperation.

‘We wouldn’t have been this late to work if you didn’t spend five hundred hours in the bathroom’

Sherlock instantly had a rebuttal

‘We wouldn’t have been late if perhaps you could be bothered to wake up at the right time, ’

They proceeded to row like this for a further few minutes.

Meanwhile, back in the main office, Lestrade was ready to go sort them out when Mycroft pulled him back:

‘Greg, darling, I’ve got a plan to set up Sherlock and John, ’

Lestrade was uncertain about whether his husband was thinking straight.

‘Um honey, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, they’re arguing like an old married couple right now, ’

Mycroft looked pleased with himself as he responded:

‘Exactly! They’re pretty much a married couple already. They go everywhere together, they work together and they live together. All we need to do is to get them to realise their feelings for each other’

Lestrade realised there was not much he could do when Mycroft was scheming, but he made one last attempt to get him to see the issue in his plan.

‘Firstly, what do you mean ‘we’? Secondly, how the bloody hell are we gonna do that?’

Mycroft gestured for Lestrade to follow him and led him to Sherlock’s and John’s workspace. They had finally stopped squabbling to read their schedule for the day. Mycroft coughed to announce his arrival. The two looked up and immediately gulped when they realised they were about to get scolded for their late arrival.

‘Morning, boys. First, I’m just gonna ignore the fact that you two were late because we have a really big client today that we need to plan the perfect wedding for’

They both nodded in reply.

‘The mayor and his fiancé have called to enquire about us planning their wedding so we need to get this right. This could mean a big boost in our clientele’

Lestrade watched in confusion, really not knowing what the hell his husband was planning. Sherlock jumped in asking:

‘So you want me to clear my schedule and plan it then?

John rolled his eyes.

‘Excuse me, I think what your brother is saying is that I’m actually the one best for this job so I should clear my schedule for the day.’

Sherlock sneered at his flatmate as Mycroft began to reply

‘Not quite. I need both of you to work on it.’

Both of them jumped up in refusal.

‘Boys, calm down. This is a really big client so we need twice the manpower. I’ve sent you guys the email for the case, so get on with it’

Mycroft and Lestrade ran back to their office before they could get any more excuses.

The pair slumped back in their chairs, accepting their fate. Sherlock was slightly suspicious of his brother, he could sense he was acting strange. Since when did he get two people to work on cases? However, he brushed that aside and then both of them checked and scanned the email of the client’s names, email address and phone number. Instantly, they knew what they had to do. They hated to admit it, but they worked well together as a pair. Sherlock shouted over to John

‘I’ll call the mayor and see what he wants’

Before he could finish John cut in

‘And I’ll call the fiancé’.

Both of them spent the next half hour on the phone, collating information on the perfect wedding for the couple. After they finished, Sherlock got a whiteboard from the storage cupboard, rolling it into their work area to write down important details.

At the same time, they said

‘They want a traditional wedding’

Sherlock looked surprised.

‘Very good deductions, John.’

He continued to speak and started to write on the board.

‘I think we should look for stately homes, preferably within London as they don’t want to travel for too long’

John responded in agreement adding:

‘Definitely, we should also search for an old church in the same vicinity and the manor needs to be able to fit 100 guests.’

Sherlock also added:

‘I think they should have a classic, three-course, sit down meal’

‘Yes! And a pink and white floral arrangement on the tables’

They continued on like this, discussing their ideas, scribbling on the board everything they needed to complete. Sherlock googled stately home’s while John rang several catering companies. Sherlock discovered the prettiest stately home and signalled for John to come see. He rolled over on his desk chair to his colleague. The venue was a 17th-century Georgian mansion with an accompanying rose garden called Fenton House. The latter’s eyes widened in awe.

‘Bloody hell, it’s gorgeous. I wouldn’t mind getting married there myself’

Sherlock looked at John sadly at that comment.

John carried on.

‘And they can have the reception in the mansion and then have the photography session in the gardens.’

Sherlock and John worked late into the night, wholly engrossed in what they were doing. The time had just gone eight o’clock when Mycroft and Lestrade were packing up, ready to head home. As they were taking off, they noticed that Sherlock and John were still in the office. Lestrade noted to Mycroft:

‘Even though they both get on each other nerves, you can’t ignore the fact they both passionate about what they do. Maybe you’re right, Mikey, they’re perfect for each other’.

Mycroft kissed Greg on the cheek and they went home. The next few weeks were spent finalising details, and they had eventually completed the full schedule for the mayor’s wedding. First, the bride was to be taken to a charming old chapel in the west of London by horse and carriage where they would have their ceremony. A violinist would perform an elegant, romantic melody, written by Sherlock, as the bride walks up the aisle. After the couple is wed, they both travel to the Georgian estate by horse and carriage. When they arrive, they will have the photography session in the botanical rose garden. Then they would head into the manor where, in the ballroom, it would be spread with round tables with pink roses atop of them as the centrepieces. There would be the main table for the bride, groom, and their family. The other half of the ballroom would be left clear with only a white grand piano where the pianist accompanied with more violinists would play as the couple would have their first dance.

Sherlock sent the full details to the couple by email. Not too long afterwards Sherlock and John received a call confirming that they were delighted with Sherlock and John’s plan. A few months flew by and it was the day of the rehearsal for the wedding. Accordingly, the pair of them had to go look over and make sure all was in place for the wedding next week. Sherlock and John left their flat and headed to the church by cab. During the cab ride, John jokingly mentioned to Sherlock:

‘I kinda wish that I was having their wedding. It’s perfect’

Sherlock laughed.

‘Well, of course, it is, we were the one’s who planned it’.

John turned serious for a moment asking:

‘Sherlock, do you ever wanna get married?’

Sherlock was taken aback slightly as he never really had these conversations with John.

‘I don’t know, John. Maybe if it was with the right person’

‘Have you met that person yet?’, John boldly asked.

Before Sherlock could answer, they had reached the church. Sherlock was massively relieved. Lestrade for some reason was already there and ran up to them. Sherlock was puzzled as to why he was there but had no chance to think about it when he asked:

‘Sorry to do have to do this but the clients have requested that you rehearse the wedding ceremony for them’

Sherlock and John’s jaws dropped in shock.

‘Why on earth would they want us to do that?’, Sherlock proclaimed.

‘Umm, shouldn’t they be the ones to rehearse their wedding seeing as it is their wedding?’, John added.

Lestrade was sweating nervously but stated:

‘Look, mate, if that’s what the client wants, that’s what they’re getting. Maybe they just want to see their ceremony from an outsider’s perspective.’

Lestrade walked away to let them get ready for the rehearsal, ringing up his husband his mobile.

‘Good news, babes, they bought it, they’re gonna rehearse the wedding’.

Back at the church, Sherlock and John were getting ready for the rehearsal when the mayor and his fiancé came to greet them. The bride to be held up two black-tie suits and said:

‘Thanks so much for doing this. You don’t know how much this means. We got two suits prepared so we can really immerse ourselves in the wedding’.

Sherlock took the suits, smiling.

‘No problem, we want this to be perfect for you.’

They got dressed in separate rooms and John headed outside the church while Sherlock was the one was going to wait at the altar. Two minutes before the rehearsal was starting and suddenly John was feeling particularly anxious. Why was he feeling this way? It wasn’t like he was literally getting married to Sherlock. The same concerns were running through Sherlock’s head. The violinist commenced playing the exquisite melody and John began walking up the aisle. Sherlock’s heart skipped a beat when he saw his best friend on his way up to the altar. He looked so dapper in that tuxedo, and his blue eyes complimented the flower on his suit jacket so well. John glanced to Sherlock at the altar and he blushed. He had to concede it that his looks were impeccable and how he had always secretly wished to ruffle his curly hair. John reached the altar where he took Sherlock's hands. It seemed like the right thing to do at that moment. The mayor and his bride to be were in the front row of pews to observe the rehearsal. The priest then began the service:

‘Dearly beloved and honoured guests. We are gathered here today to join Thomas and Julie in the union of marriage.’

The priest continued:

‘This contract is not to be entered into lightly, but thoughtfully and seriously, and with a deep realization of its obligations and responsibilities’.

‘The bride and groom have each prepared vows which they will read now’.

There was a pause when Sherlock and John didn’t know whether they should do that part or not. Everyone was looking at them expectantly, clearly wanting them too.

John wiped his brow as he came up with his vows.

‘I have known you Sher- I mean Julie, for a long time and I mean it when I say this. Even though you may get on my nerves, I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather spend the rest of my days with.’

Sherlock’s heart was beating like crazy.

‘Thomas, you make me laugh, you make me think differently and you make me a better person. I wanna grow old with you.’

The priest saw that they were finished and continued:

‘Thomas, do you take Julie to be your wife? Do you promise to love, honour, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forevermore?’

Sherlock confirmed ‘I do’.

The priest now turned to John

‘Julie, do you take Thomas to be your husband?’

John also confirmed ‘I do’.

When they had finished, the mayor, Thomas, and his fiancé, Julie, walked up to them thanking them for the rehearsal, commenting on how magical it looked. After the church rehearsal, they rode to the stately home in a stunned silence. Both kept thinking if there was any truth in the words they said to each other. Could it really be they were both in love each this whole time? They feared finding out the answer. At the manor, they taste tested the dinner and the cake, and then they had finished the rehearsal. Thomas and Julie thanked them for their help and left to go home. The pianist and violinists were still practising the songs, so Sherlock pulled John onto the empty dance floor and said jokingly.

‘Well we have practised everything else, so might as well do the slow dance’

John giggled saying ‘why the hell not’

Sherlock gently placed his hands on John’s slim waist. John rested his head on Sherlock’s shoulder. Slowly, they began to twirl around. As they were spinning, Sherlock whispered into John’s ear.

‘Did you really mean what you said back in the church?’

John responded quietly.

‘Yes’

Sherlock stopped in his tracks.

‘I meant what I said too. So are you saying we should give this a shot?’

John replied.

‘I really think we should’.

Sherlock embraced John, giving him a gentle peck on the lips. The next week, the pair of them came into work and they couldn’t help but giving each little kisses and hugs throughout the day. Lestrade noticed, his mouth agape and he shouted to Mycroft.

‘Oh my god, your plan really worked!’

Mycroft chuckled

‘Of course, it did, I’m a genius’.

#Sherlock Holmes #sherlock #sherlock x john #john watson #sherlock BBC #sherlock and john #sherlock/john #sherlock fic #johnlock #johnlock fic #bbc sherlock #sherlock x #sherlock x you #sherlock x y/n #sherlock reader insert

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softschnappi · 4 years

Text

Winter Showers Bring...Tacos and Mike Wheeler?

hey guys! Finally sat down a shat out a 2k fic even though I have 80+ wips to finish...anyways...hope you enjoy! fun fact I coincidentally had tacos the night after I wrote this...

pairing: ryers

summary: Richie and Will share a shower together and Mike finds out, but he’s cool with it. It’s a little awkward, some shenanigans ensue and there’s a lot of talking about relationships (between richie and will and about mike and el)

warnings: swearing, lots of mentions of sex but no actual sex, showering if you consider that a warning?

read it on ao3

“Is this warm enough for you, baby?”

Richie reached his hand behind the shower curtain and felt the stream of water for himself, making sure it wasn’t scalding hot as Will usually enjoyed. “It’s good. I’ll just never understand why you want to feel like you’re burning in hell when you shower,” He paused, “You can’t blame me for not wanting to walk out of here looking like a hot cheeto.”

“You know I hate being cold,” Will reminded him, pulling off his sweater and shirt. They fell onto the floor in a wrinkled pile, followed by his pants, socks, and underwear.

Richie followed in suit, setting his glasses on the sink counter before stripping naked. “I know, I know, princess can’t have the room temperature below seventy…” He watched as Will rolled his eyes and stepped into the shower with him.

Will squirted shampoo into his palm, as Richie soaked his hair under the water, before beginning to scrub his boyfriend’s hair.

“You wanna get tacos after this, baby?” Richie asked, placing his hands in the familiar position of around Will’s waist, massaging his wet skin with his thumbs.

Nodding, Will replied, “Yeah, okay. Then we’ll watch that movie, right? And actually watch it this time?” He raised an eyebrow, expecting the smile that appeared on Richie’s face. It seems like every time they tried to relax together and watch a movie, they get distracted and end up fucking or just fooling around in some way or another.

“Tonight yes, because Mike and El are going to grace us with their wonderful presence, but next time...we’ll hopefully have to save the food for later…” Richie reached and grabbed the shampoo bottle off the shelf and squeezed some directly onto Will’s head. Every time they fought, which was very rare, or especially had sex, Richie always ordered some type of food to eat. Pizza or fast food, never anything healthy. “Well, unless you wanna get back at them, give them a taste of their own med-”

Will furiously shook his head as Richie rubbed into his scalp. Mike having El over all the time was no problem, he could care less, but hearing Mike’s bed begin to creak along with loud grunts and girly moans coming through the wall happened one too many times, and there was no way Will wanted them hearing him and Richie. They’d only recently told their inner circle about them being in a relationship, even though they’ve been together over a year, and Will would rather die than have anybody listen to him having sex.

“I was joking!” Richie laughed, “I know you’re no exhibitionist. Fuck, I mean you’re so shy you have trouble asking for a handjob, such a shy little baby...trying to hide your face from me when you cum even though you look so cute-”

Reaching behind him, Will stared into Richie’s eyes with a squint and his cheeks tinted pink, and turned the shower handle to the right, watching as his boyfriend writhed with pain as the sudden hot water hit his body.

“Ow! Ow! Fuck! Okay, I’m sorry, just-” He yelped, cutting himself off as the water temperature turned back to normal. “You can be a real asshole sometimes, under all those layers of whatever innocence you have left.”

“Well, I wonder who I got it from?” Will scratched his wet hair, pretending to think.

Richie playfully gasped as he reached for the blue loofah and soap. “That’s not very nice. Ouchie, you hurt my heart…my feelings are so hurt, scrub me squeaky clean or I won’t buy you tacos.”

“You-”

Bang bang bang bang!

“Will? Hello?”

It was Mike, banging on the door with an urgent tone in his booming voice.

Will’s eyes went wide as both he and Richie froze. He blinked a few times before licking his lips and shouting back, “I’m in the shower! What do you want?”

“Okay, stay in there!” Mike told him as the bathroom door swung open. Will flailed his arms around in a panic, dropping the loofah and slapping a hand over Richie’s mouth to prevent him from giving himself away. “Sorry, I really really gotta piss, fuck !” Continued Mike once he was inside, an audible unzipping sound coming afterword, followed by him pissing into the toilet and sighing with relief.

Richie began licking into Will’s palm, for the sole purpose of just being a little shit. Will pointed a warning finger at him with a serious expression on his face. Richie responded by smirking into his hand and raising a challenging eyebrow at him, before letting out a loud and long fart. Putting his face into his hand, Will began to regret life and at the same time contemplate murdering Richie. He knew Mike heard it, and he knew Mike would think it was him since he didn’t know Richie was in the shower with him. Will’s cheeks burned with embarrassment with every silent second that passed and it felt like Mike was taking an eternity to piss.

Almost tripping over all the clothes, Mike turned the sink on, trying to hold back his laughter. If that was him in there, he would have waited until he was alone and then let it rip, but he guessed that Will was just super comfortable around him. But the silence between them was only making it worse.

As he soaped up his hands, Mike noticed the familiar pair of glasses sitting on the counter. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Those were definitely Richie’s, but why would they be here instead of on his face? He was essentially blind without them. Mike’s eyes trailed to the scattered clothes across the floor, which he now realized was a lot for one person. Well, he also now figured out that it wasn’t just Will in the shower because one, there were two towels also on the counter, and two, a Hawaiin printed shirt would never belong to Will, and neither would those pizza socks or PlayStation printed boxers.

“Hi, Richie,” Mike announced.

Richie shoved Will’s hand off of his face. “Hi, Mikey! Wanna join us?”

“I didn’t fart, that wasn’t me I swear , it was Richie!” Will pleaded aloud.

Mike burst into laughter. “Yeah, I was like, shit Will, you couldn’t wait until I left?” He paused, catching his breath and regaining his composure. “Anyway, sorry I had to intrude like that. I, uh, didn’t know you guys were at this stage yet…” It was a little shocking for Mike if he had to be honest. Sure, they only recently told him that they were together, but Mike really hadn’t thought much about what they were doing before they told people. It was a jump, for sure, to see Will doing relationship stuff after all these years of...not.

“Well, it would be nice if we didn’t know what stage you and your missus were at, but we do,” Richie fired back, earning himself a light smack on the chest.

“I--uh--well--sorry--I--we--” Mike stammered, face heating up with embarrassment. Will does such a good job at keeping Richie moderately quiet that he and El just assume nobody is home. Which will always be the wrong move. Richie and Will always make sure to check the entire apartment, sometimes even the cabinets just to be safe, before they get down and dirty.

Reaching down and grabbing the fallen loofah, Will waved his hand to dismiss Mike even though he couldn’t see him. “This totally isn’t awkward at all, but let’s drop it.”

“Right,” Mike replied. “I just came in here to piss, enjoy your shower,” He hurriedly finished before walking out and shutting the bathroom door.

Richie and Will each let out a long breath. At least Mike was cool with it, as he should be because it’s not like he’s had to suffer through hearing them fucking.

As Will began to wash Richie’s body, he said, “Well that was certainly something.”

“I kinda wanted him to come in here. I mean, you would have to leave since there’s barely enough room for two people as it is, but I bet Mike would let me wash his balls.”

Will visibly cringed at what came out of Richie’s mouth. It was like his ears were being poisoned. “I hate that...so much. Never say any of it ever again. And enough about the ball washing thing, you’re so gross!”

Richie raised his arms a little in defence whilst Will ran the soap over his upper thighs. “I’m just saying it would bond us more!”

“Okay, maybe it would, but I’m still not in favour of it. It’s embarrassing, it’s kinda weird, I wouldn’t wanna look at you, and you’d probably scrub too hard on purpose. End of conversation, I’m not letting you wash my balls.” He continued to wash Richie as he turned around to show his backside, before speaking up again, “You know, I’m surprised you’ve stayed soft for this long. You’re usually a huge perv when I shower with you.”

Richie laughed. “Thank you for the compliment, dear, but you’ve forgotten I haven’t washed you yet.” He batted his eyelashes and poked Will’s nose. “Don’t act like you don’t like the attention, shy boy. Or like you haven’t gotten hard from me washing you.”

“That was one fucking time! Fuck, always about sex with you. You’re nasty. It’s so hard to put up with you just so you can pay for my $5.99 taco box, it really is.”

Leaning in close to his face, Richie mocked, “Aw, it’s so horrible isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” Will replied, licking his lips and putting his arms loosely around Richie’s neck as he got closer. “You’re a real piece of work. I don’t usually do this stuff for free, but you’re hot and have a big dick, so...”

Richie’s face faltered a little at that. “I feel bad, I’ve corrupted your brain so much since we met, but then again you’re so hot when you say stuff like that…” Will only saw Richie smile for a second before his waist was pulled closer and he pressed his lips against his. Will immediately opened his mouth to let Richie’s tongue inside, letting out a little sigh after he groaned into his mouth. Kissing down his neck and beginning to suck a red mark onto Will’s neck, Richie’s hands roamed his back before sliding down and giving his ass a squeeze.

Bang bang bang!

“You’re going to use up all the hot water, assholes!” Mike yelled from behind the door.

Shit, how long have they been in there?

“Yeah, and I have to pee…” El chimed in.

Will immediately reached behind him and turned the water off. Richie pulled back the curtain and they both quickly stepped out, wrapping a towel around their waist. Grabbing his glasses and putting them on his face, Richie followed Will out the door, neither of them bothering to pick up any of their clothes.

“Sorry,” Will mumbled to El as they passed by her on the way to his room.

“Did you enjoy your shampoo? Because that’s as far as I got with you…” Richie said once they were both standing in Will’s room.

Will giggled, “Shit, you’re right. It was basically your shower and I was just...there.” He dug through his dresser and slipped on a fresh pair of boxers.

Richie grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the bed before he sat down. “How about I just Uber Eats the food? Do you wanna pick up where we left off?”

“Mike and El are home…did you already forget that?”

“You and that dirty mind of yours, I swear, Will, all you think about is sex,” Richie playfully huffed. “Such a bad influence. I just meant kisses. Can’t a man just kiss his boyfriend around here?”

Will rolled his eyes with a small smile and pushed Richie back on his bed before climbing on top of him and connecting their lips.

“Are you guys gonna get your clothes?” El shouted.

Richie let out an exasperated sigh as Will stood up. “We really need our own place. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

Will whipped his head around to look back at him and flushed. “You really mean it?”

Giving him a small shove with his foot, Richie grinned, “Go get our clothes, buttercup, we can leave the talking for later when we finally get those tacos.”

#ryers #richie tozier #will byers #it #stranger things #ryers fic #richie x will #will x richie #fanfiction #fanfic #gay #it x stranger things #stranger things x it

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