#and every now and again one of the best lines in television gets slid under the crack in the door

[ravenrambles6229]

Oh are we talking about lines that go really hard?

Season 8, fams:

https://youtu.be/lo0AxbI9WtE

“You said the greatest villain is the one that got away. Then what. Am. I?” 

Like holy SHIT, Lloyd. How long were you keeping THAT fucking zinger in your back pocket?

"I do not know if there is an afterlife for beings like us...but if there is I will find you there"

Why the hell is such a hard ass line like THAT from a show about magical spinning Lego ninja?!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Night🌙10

Warnings: noncon sexual acts, angry Andy, hormones

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow​‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: Another update? Who is this bitch actually trying?

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The bus chugged down the city streets as you sat closer to the back. You stared out the window and watched the grey sky of Nelson hanging overhead, a cloudy backdrop to the smoking city. 

You sighed every now and then, trying to forget the beeping and when it stopped. You still felt Andy’s hand on your back and the suffocating silence of the drive home. The burden of the dead woman on your shoulders.

It was as if it had been years since you saw the slightly crooked pole that held the bright sign. The bus stop was as desolate as ever, the dirty bench marked with spray paint and the shelter glass cracked. You set off around the corner past the house. Each was familiar but not comforting.

Your hips hurt from the stiff ride and you rubbed your stomach. You wore one of Andy’s hoodies under your open jacket, the zipper of the latter no longer meeting. You stopped in front of your parents’ house. You hadn’t asked permission; not from your mother, your father, or Andy. There was no courtesy phone call so you hesitated, afraid you might be sent away.

It was noon. Your father would be in the garage. He always had some project going. That was his work. He was cheaper than any other mechanic in the city, he just did it all from home. He could recycle parts from the junkyard and charge half price. They usually did better than the newer parts sent away for down at the Jiffy.

You walked up the driveway, the garage door was only halfway open, the bite of the late autumn, rather the early winter, mingled with the warmth flowing under the metal. You tapped on it with your knuckles, “dad?” you called.

You stepped back as his oily hands gripped the bottom and he hauled it up entirely. He tilted his head at you but couldn’t hide his smile. He looked at your stomach and you dropped your hand. He drew you to him before you could react. He hugged you tight and rocked you.

“Your mother’s gonna be mad you didn’t call before you came,” he let go of you and looked you over again.

“Mad that I’m even here,” you remarked.

“No, she might act like it but…” he waved you into the garage and rolled over the little stool he sat on when he was working. He helped you sit and put his wrench on the plywood table against the wall, “she missed you. We both did.” he wiped his hands on his jeans, “you could have called us. You know how she is. She feels before she thinks.”

“She kicked me out,” you felt precarious on the little rolling stool, “you let her.”

“So why’d you come back?” he asked.

You hung your head and hugged your stomach, “well, I’m having your granddaughter. I didn’t want you to find out from anyone but me.”

“It’s a girl?” he grinned.

“Sorry, wish I could give you a boy to get all filthy in this place,” you shrugged.

“You never minded getting your hands dirty,” he neared and grasped your shoulder.

“Yeah, guess it doesn’t matter too much, she’ll be as curious as any kid,” you said.

You were quiet as you looked around. Your dad’s rolling chest of tools was dented and rusted, the same one he’d had your whole life. The place hadn’t changed, only the car sitting in it.

“That’s not the only reason you’re here,” he said. Your father was a simple man but he wasn’t dumb.

You frowned and felt a prick in your eyes. The hormones, you told yourself, they were getting to you.

“I need you guys,” you said quietly, “is that so bad?”

“I missed you, you’re mom did too, she’s just stubborn. Think that’s where you get it,” he turned his hand over and held it out to you, “but she won’t turn you away.”

“You sure?”

“I won’t let her. Not this time,” he bent and took your hand, “now come on.”

You let him help you to your feet and he led you through the side door into the house. You heard your mother’s old Patsy Cline CD droning from the box speakers on the shelf as she muttered to herself. 

Your dad kicked the dirty off his boots and you slipped your own off. You followed him and peeked over his shoulder as he went to the living room. Your mother was wiping down the framed picture from your high school graduation.

“I got a surprise for you,” he announced as he stepped aside and beckoned you in alongside him, “and she’s got a surprise for you.”

Your mother turned and froze. Her lips formed a straight line and her eyes pierced you. She didn’t say anything as he stared at you then tossed the dusting cloth onto the table beside the lamp. She looked down at your feet.

“You remembered to take your shoes off,” she said.

Your lips parted and your chest gripped. She was still mad.

“You remembered us,” she swept over to you so quickly, you flinched. She hugged you and her middle met yours. She let go and looked down at your stomach. Her eyes were sad but not angry, “I’m…” she lifted her head and met your gaze, “I’m not good at saying it but I’m sorry.”

You watched her for a minute. She was still her mother as nasty as she’d been. You could see her regret and it coupled with your own. It didn’t fix everything but for her, it was a lot.

“I’m sorry too,” you breathed, “it was… me being stupid started all of this. I just didn’t know what to do.”

“You gotta tell her,” your dad intoned.

You glanced at him then back to your mom. You gulped, “we found out yesterday, it’s a girl.”

“We? And where is… he?” your mother bristled.

“Working,” you said.

“We went to the diner, they said you quit. The café too,” your mom batted away lashes, “please, sit.” She touched your stomach, “you’re so big.”

“Five months, I think,” you said as you let her take you to the old floral sofa, “and the doctor recommended I take it easy so I had to… leave.”

“Oh? Is something wrong with the baby?” she picked up her cloth again and resumed her dusting. Your father quietly excused himself.

“No, just me,” you leaned against the arm, “but they said my blood pressure is getting better, just have to check it now and again.”

“And that man? The least I can say is at least he’s taking responsibility, even if he is married,” your mom hung the picture back on the nail.

“It was a mistake,” you said, “but you know, I think it’s taught me a lot. Not that it was worth it.”

“I don’t mean to rag on you, but… it’s just not how it should be,” she went to the television stand and focused on the edges.

“You think I don’t know that. Mom, I didn’t come here to argue my morality. I came here…” you paused as you felt your phone buzz. You slid it from your jacket pocket and checked the ID; Andy. You ignored it and dropped it back inside, “I just wanted to see if you had any interest in your granddaughter.”

She spun back and her face wrinkled with sadness. She twisted the cloth and retreated to the rocking chair and sat. She chewed her lip and looked at the floor. When she looked at you again, her brows crinkled.

“I’m trying,” she said, “but what you did, I don’t know if I can’t get over that. That man, everyone knows him, and when it comes out, with his wife still in a coma, you don’t think about what that does to us.”

“Well,” your throat constricted and you held back the hot tears bubbling behind your eyes, “she’s not anymore.”

“What?”

“She… she passed last night,” you sniffed, “and I’ll admit that I came here as much for me as you. I just needed… needed to get away. Just for a little.”

Your phone went off again and you grunted as you pulled it out and swiped away the second call from Andy. You kept the phone in your hand and rested it against your thigh.

“I just need time,” your mom leaned back heavily.

“Well, it’s quickly running out,” you replied, “she’s gonna be here soon enough.”

“I know,” she said grimly, “I know.”

There was another silence and your phone twitched. You turned it over and checked the message on the screen; ‘why don’t you invite your parents for dinner if you’re not gonna answer me?’ You let the phone slip between your legs and slowly raised your eyes. How did he know?

“I can go, if it’s too much,” you said, “I didn’t expect to get past the front door, honestly.”

“It’s not-- you’re still my daughter,” she uttered, “and even if it’s not the best situation, you got my granddaughter too.”

Your phone began to shake between your legs and you huffed, “sorry,” you stood with effort as you snatched the phone up, “just a second.”

You went into the dining room and answered. You hissed into the phone, “what do you want, Andy?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going there?” he asked sharply.

“How do you even know? You following me?” you kept your voice low.

“I know, that’s all,” he retorted, “it is… surprising.”

“They’re my parents,” you scowled at the tabletop as you leaned on a chair.

“Mine, too, right? Considering--”

“Andy,” you warned, “come on. Let’s cut this out--”

“Invite them for dinner. You’re right. Our kid will need her grandparents,” he interrupted, “I’ll get off early and help.”

“I don’t think--”

“Invite them,” he demanded, “and don’t take the bus back. I’ll send you the money for a cab.”

“Jesus, I can take care of myself--”

“No, you can’t, which is why you’re sleeping under my roof. And this isn’t about you, it’s about the baby,” he exhaled and you heard a squeak of metal, likely a chair, “Now I want you home by two. I’ll be there shortly after.”

He hung up before you could argue. You closed your eyes and forced down the angry bile in your chest. You shuttered and tucked the phone back in your jacket. How did he know you were there?

🌙

Your parents agreed to dinner. Your mother wasn’t subtle that she was curious to see Andy’s house. Her judgement was always her driving motivation and you were certain she could find something to hate, even in the suburban utopia. 

You took the bus out of defiance and brewed with anger as you got off just outside the cul-de-sac. You walked the single block to Andy’s and paced like an angry lioness inside.

He arrived at three, just after. Your anxiety boiled with anger and you stopped to face him as he entered. You watched him put down his briefcase and hang his long black coat. Your nostrils flared as you braced yourself for the onslaught ready to spill forth.

“So, you weren’t following me?” you challenged.

“I was working,” he said quietly, “to pay for all of this…” he pointed to the ceiling, “and that,” he pointed to your bump.

“No, Andy, you don’t get to do that every time,” you snarled, “how did you know?”

He didn’t answer and brushed by you. You followed him into the kitchen as he went to the coffee machine and pressed the buttons bluntly. You watched him from a foot away, your hand on the cold marble.

“You can’t just ignore me. How did you know I was there?”

“Because…” he grabbed a mug and filled it with water. He poured it into the machine and snapped the lid shut, “because you have my baby and I have a right to make sure you don’t take it from me.”

“That’s not an answer,” you sneered, “Andy, I have done everything you’ve wanted. I have stayed here, I have quit my jobs, I have kept this baby for you, and you… you’re what? Tracking me like a dog?” You reached into your back pocket and slammed your phone on the counter. You slid it over to him, “when did you do it?”

His jaw ticked as he put a pod into the machine and hit start. He tapped his fingers on the counter and let out a long breath through his nose. He turned to you and crossed his arms.

“After you stayed out that night. I couldn’t worry like that again. I had to know,” he said staunchly, “because I’ve had a wife go out and not come back. A child--”

“I’m not your wife and I won’t ever be. This child is all we have in common,” you rebuffed, “even after last night. What you did, that doesn’t change things.”

You nearly tripped as he marched towards you. He had you against the far wall, his hand planted on either side of your head as his anger rippled across his forehead and set his jaw square. You pressed yourself against the pure white wall and tried not to wither.

“I did that for you,” he breathed, “I’ve done everything for you. Don’t act like you’re the only one doing shit.”

“Andy, get away--”

“No,” he punched the wall and you gasped, “my wife is gone. Jacob is gone! This is all I have; you, my daughter…that’s everything and I will be damned if I’m going to let you take any of it away from me.”

“You’re scaring me,” you wisped, “Andy, please--”

“No, you shut up and you listen. This is the last time we have this conversation. Your parents are coming and you’re going to be good. You’re going to wear something nice, you’re going to cook something good, and you’re going to smile. You don’t let them see you crack, not once.”

“You can’t--”

“Enough!” he hit the wall again and you heard it crumple under the force, “if you don’t, they won’t be around. Ever. Do you understand me?” you gaped up at him and trembled, you shook your head in disbelief. He leaned in and spoke softly to you, “Understand that I will make sure you and no one else ever sees them again.”

“You… wouldn’t…”

“I could. I will. You’re fucking bitch of a mom deserves it,” he hissed, “so, honey,” he growled the second word, “what’s it gonna be?”

Your lip quivered and you searched his face. The rage had his blue eyes alight and his breath rasped out like animalistic snarls. You thought of Laurie, of how blank he’d been when they stopped the machines. And that smile, after. What was that?

“I’ll… be good,” you murmured, “I will.”

His lips twitched and he shoved himself away from you. He stomped over to the fridge and took out the light cream. He added it to his mug of fresh coffee and stirred. You stood straight shakily and looked up at the hole beside your head.

“Well,” he said, “better figure out what you’re making for dinner. Our guests won’t be long.”

[permanentcrossfics]

Twelve Hours in Miami // h.s. - Part 2

Read Part 1

“Did you really just ask the front desk for a condom?” you asked.

“Intimacy kit,” he corrected you, still pink. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “Comes with all sorts of things.”

“Ordered a few of them before?”

He looked at you, then, and stammered. “I just thought-- we don’t have to-- but I thought if we--”

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8:35am.

You’d fallen asleep just like that -- tangled up, skins stuck together with sweat. Two hours later, you had to peel yourselves apart with whispery snickers and pounding heads. It would’ve been gross -- it was gross, to be honest -- except it was him. You smelled like him, he smelled like you, and it poured satisfaction into a well of need for this specifically that you hadn’t known existed until it was full. 

“Stay with me.” Deep, rumbled, and just a little slurred, the words made you smile, and you curled up, eyes closed, when he dragged his warm hands and mouth along your back, shoulder, arm, chest, and stomach. One of his legs was wedged between yours, and he was leaving spongy, scratchy kisses up and down the back of your neck that made you scrunch up. “C’mon, darling,” he sighed hotly against your skin, slipping his arm firmly around your midriff to squeeze you back into his chest. “Stay w’me,” he mumbled with honeyed persuasion that needlessly gilded the spider web of his you’d found yourself in. 

“I have work, you know,” you drawled without any real conviction. Hang work -- hang it all. It was partially because of your work that you’d missed every attempt of his to connect like this over the past few days. You weren’t set to fly out that day, not just yet, but he was, and then he’d be gone and you didn’t know when you’d see him next. You’d been gifted with twelve whole hours, and almost three of them were already gone. 

“Get sick,” he said, the demand muffled by your neck, and you laughed, turning into your pillow. 

Were you really going to leave him there, in your bed, knowing he wouldn’t be there when you got back and that the hours you did have were wasted? 

You’d gone to dinner last night, and something hadn’t sat well with you. That was the excuse you used when you made your calls, trying to sound as hoarse as possible, and when the last one was done, he rolled on top of you and you laughed and tried not to focus on how easy it was for him to settle his hips between your thighs as he peppered kisses up and down your jaw and neck, all but gloating in his gratitude. 

He ordered breakfast at 8:50am and answered the door in your robe at 9:20am, giving a tip and a smile while you burrowed under the blanket and searched for the television remote somewhere in the sheets. 

It was a lazy affair, with both of you reclined against the headboard, captive audiences of the bad local news station you’d turned on to catch up with the day. Every now and then, he’d chuckle or snort or offer his commentary with a sort of bemused delight similar to a wizard discovering a toaster for the first time. “Strange, innit?” 

“What is?” you murmured, breaking off a piece of blueberry crumb muffin. 

“This!” He waved his fork and the strawberry speared on the end of it at the talking alligator on screen. “Bizarre.” He pulled the fruit off the fork with his teeth and chewed, shaking his head. 

“This is not the strangest thing you’ve ever seen.” You brought a piece of your muffin to his mouth and he opened it without breaking focus. 

“Didn’t say that, but it doesn’t mean it’s not weird.”

“Weirder than LA? New York? Texas? London? Tokyo?”

“What’s your point?” 

You snickered and took his fork from him to steal a grape from the bowl. 

“What is this?” He all but wheezed, hand on his belly over the butterfly’s wings as he stared at the screen, eyes crinkled with incredulity. 

“Open,” you said, and he did as you asked, tongue darting forward to meet your fingers. “Harry, you licked me!” you cried when you felt the wet slide over the side of your finger. 

His jaw stopped midchew, focus broken, and heat burst through you when his puckered mouth twitched and then flattened with suppressed laughter. 

“I--”

He swallowed and the bed shook with his silent chuckles. “Didn’t think about that one before y’said it, did you?” 

You made a noise in your throat and rolled away from him as he laughed behind you. “Go away,” you said into the mattress. He was still laughing when you heard the clink of dishes being set aside and when he slid up behind you to get close. 

“Have to wait a few hours for that,” he mumbled, kissing the back of your shoulder. “Couple more hours at least. Wouldn’t throw me out in the cold, would you?”

“It’s Miami,” you said, voice muffled. “You’ll be fine.” 

He turned you on to your back and slunk his way under your arm and you held your breath when he came all but nose to nose with you. You could see everything, good and less good -- every pore, every hair, every slight scar, every mole, every beginning of a pimple, all of it. “Not gonna throw me out, are you?” he repeated, huskier and warmer in a delicious way you didn’t think you were supposed to know could be this good. 

“No,” you whispered. 

He hummed, mouth curved in triumph, and you could see his mind working very fast behind his clear, green eyes. Where you’d been howling your outrage seconds ago, you were pretty sure you were both painfully aware of how close you were right then. Wordlessly, he nuzzled the warm point of his nose against yours and your eyes closed as your breath hitched. Your lips parted just as his tongue touched you lower one, and you sighed, hands slipping up his warm, strong back when the kiss deepened. He tasted sweet -- a little like the strawberry, and a little more like the blueberry and sugar from the muffin. He lowered onto his elbows and you absorbed his weight and warmth without complaint and opened your mouth wider. His groan made you shiver and when you broke, you were both panting. Gulping, he licked his lips. 

“M’gonna make a call,” he said. “Downstairs, t’get us some….” He trailed off. “Where’s the….” He grabbed the phone off the bedside table and dropped off to the side of you, jamming his thumb into a button before lifting it to his ear, and you kissed his chest and shoulder, nuzzling the warm skin. 

“Hi, yes,” he said. He cleared his throat. “I’m calling for-- I’m wondering if there’s an intimacy kit on hand?” 

You looked up at him but he kept his eyes on the ceiling, though his cheeks were flushed and he was breathing heavily. 

“Right, yes, thank you, if we could-- have that sent up, that would be… but bill it to room 2201… thank you.” He hung up and tossed the phone onto the bed.

“Did you really just ask the front desk for a condom?” you asked.

“Intimacy kit,” he corrected you, still pink. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “Comes with all sorts of things.” 

“Ordered a few of them before?” 

He looked at you, then, and stammered. “I just thought-- we don’t have to-- but I thought if we--”

You kissed him, then, cutting him off, and his hands slid over your bare back as you clambered onto his lap over the sheet. Belatedly, his hands fell into the small of your back, and you were very aware of where you’d be if there was no sheet between you then. “I like this,” you confessed. Maybe you shouldn’t have, maybe it was too much to feel or vocalize, but you did, as quietly as possible so he could miss it if he wanted to. 

“Yeah,” he rasped, hand slipping down to the curve of your ass. He swallowed and you kissed his throat, inhaling the smell of his shower and the sex he’d almost had since. He was warm, and where hair didn’t tickle your mouth, he was also shockingly soft. You had no reason to think he wouldn’t be, you’d just… never thought about it, you guessed. You’d thought mostly about how his muscles would feel -- his arms, his chest, his stomach, all of which were moving heavily as he gulped and breathed deeply. It must’ve been taking his every effort to stay perfectly still underneath you. 

You tapped one of his nipples lightly with your index finger before circling it in a featherlight stroke. He huffed a laugh and you glanced up at him, smiling mischievously as his own lips quirked. Without looking at him, you kissed his nipple pertly and he tensed his stomach with a muted, “Oh, fuck.” Giggling in a whisper, you followed the kiss with a playful bite, and his hand slid down to your bare ass. 

“I’ll be good,” you said, moving to kiss down his chest and down his stomach, each one slow and lingering, tongue touching his skin. “I’ll be good,” you promised again over his navel, chin once again on a thin line of dark, soft hair, and you pressed kisses to the leaves of the ferns fanning over his hips. Under the sheet, you could see -- feel -- his cock hardening again, and above you, he struggled to keep his eyes open and on you, with his hands curling into fists alternately at his sides and on his head. “Is this ok?” you whispered.

Harry nodded with a strangled sound in his throat. He inhaled sharply, nostrils flared and lips smashed together, but he kept his eyes on you as best he could as you eased the sheet down with shaking fingers. For a moment, your mind went blank, and your lip twitched with an almost laugh when you realized. No dick was that good that it should rob anyone of coherent thought, but his was, apparently, and all yours had gone out the window -- laughable in and of itself. 

“I’m sorry,” you wheezed, pressing your forehead to his hip. “I just had a moment.”

“Think that’s a first,” he admitted in a strained drawl above you, but he was chuckling, too. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. “You’re great, you’re--”

“Y’not helpin’, y’know,” he said, laughing more regularly. “Gonna make a man self-conscious.”

“No.” You kissed his abdomen. “No, I’m sorry, I’m fine now, I just… forgot for a minute.”

“Forgot what?”

Everything was too much to admit to, and instead you wrapped your hand around his cock and he groaned quietly, shifting. Hard, but getting harder still, you pumped with a touch that was much more confident than you felt. Every throb pulsed into your palm, and above you, his throat bobbed as he cleared it, jaw clenching and releasing as he shifted his legs. He was the perfect grip -- big enough to fill your whole hand, but not so much that you felt ineffectual. He was smooth, and he looked so--

His groan when you sucked his head gently echoed through the room, and you felt him twitch on your tongue as you ran it around and around his head. Slowly, your eyes rolled up and closed. He felt good even in your mouth -- smooth and silky -- and he tasted like…. You lowered down, thumb touching your lower lip as a guide down his shaft, and you moaned softly, bobbing your head slowly. 

“That’s nice,” he said thickly. You heard his breath rattle in his chest and you cracked your eyes open. His own were in barely open slits, and his lips were parted, left arm thrown over his head, stretching his tattoos out ever so slightly as his muscles flexed every time he opened and closed his hand in a fist. “Shit, that’s so nice,” he intoned in disbelief, smiling with a breathless little laugh. “So soft… bein’ careful w’me, aren’t you?” 

You blinked and pushed him into your cheek with your tongue, sucking a little more, and he groaned loudly, eyes closing completely for a moment. “Jesus, that’s it,” he praised, and a knot tightened in your stomach. You ran your tongue up and down in short sweeps along the vein you could feel and his whole face crumpled as his stomach rose and fell. He dropped his hand and linked it with his other one over his chest in a basketweave, and his knuckles went white as he took slow, deep breaths. 

The rush from looking at him so powerless and vulnerable and open and trusting and absolutely in awe of every little thing you did? Intoxicating. You were shaking from it and you could feel how wet you were between your thighs -- you were dripping, like he hadn’t just licked up every bit of you he could as if his own life had depended on it. 

For a moment, with your eyes on him, you allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to just pull your mouth off him and straddle him to sink down on him. You let yourself think of the feeling -- the full stretch, judging by the way your jaw was just about popping -- and the look on his face. You let yourself revel in the groans he’d make as his face crumpled, and how his chest would heave, and what his skin would look like with the tracks of his fingers over it as you struggled to find your proverbial footing. You’d both be sweating, and grabbing the other, and the thought of his teeth finding your sensitive skin made your hair stand on end and you whimpered. 

“Like it?” he whispered. “S’it good?”

You nodded, and pulled off him with a wet gasp before licking a stripe along the underside of his cock, from base to tip and back again. 

“That’s good,” he said. “Get all over, s’ok… shit.” His throat bobbed and he unclasped his fingers to grip the bedsheets. “Get all over me, get everywhere, it’s ok, it’s f-fine--” He made an almost pained noise and lifted his hand, and brushed it over the back of your head before dropping it to the bed as he squirmed. “Get my balls,” he mumbled, head rolling against the headboard. “Oh, fuck, please….” 

His breath stuttered and he gulped, eyes opening wide and unfocused on the ceiling. Cock wet from your tongue, you pumped your hand up and down while sucking one ball and then the other into your mouth, ears prickling from the soft, pathetic noises he was making. “Holy shit, s’incredible!” he gasped. “Shit, I’m….” Harry trailed off, choking on his words, and his hand came to rest on the back of your head when you wrapped your mouth around the tip of his cock again. You suckled, with alternating pressure, and bobbed up and down, eyes closed and head swimming from his guttural grunts. 

“M’gonna cum,” he said, his mumble punctuated with a wordless shout when you twisted your hand around his wet cock and squeezed. He throbbed against your palm and you heard him take a sharp breath as his fingers tightened on the back of your head, but without pressure to push you down. “Don’t stop,” he breathed, heaving by then. “Don’t stop, m’gonna cum so… gonna cum so hard, I’m--”

You whimpered around him and your other hand pressed against his stomach. He clapped his free hand over it and held it there, wheezing, and you opened your eyes briefly, catching a glimpse of his face contorted in the most erotic agony -- cheeks and chest pink and sweaty, hair mussed, teeth bared with his shout, and the vein in his neck popping -- before you tasted the first salty, tangy string. You stilled, tightening your lips, absorbing every groan as his thighs tensed and released under you in his effort to not squirm and buck you off. He let go of your head to clutch your hand against his stomach with both of his, and your palm slipped against his slick skin. With some effort, you gulped, mouth still holding him, before you relaxed and pulled off him. You ran your tongue over his head and released him with a soft pop before sitting up slightly, neck and jaw both aching and throat just a little inexplicably sore. 

He, beyond a shadow of a doubt, looked spent. His eyes were closed and there was a slump to his shoulders, and his chest rose quickly with each shallow breath he took, and he still hadn’t let go of your hand. “Think….” He cleared his throat and swallowed hard. “Think y’really did summat to me,” he rasped. When he looked at you at last, he was dazed, and a dumbfounded smile pulled at the corners of his mouth before his eyes slid shut again. “Fuck,” he sighed. 

“Are you going to nap now?” you asked, voice thick and husky. He laughed. 

“Don’t,” he said. You crawled up his body, unsteady knees guiding you on either side of him. “Don’t tease me, m’only… I’m trying my best, aren’t I?” 

You grinned, and you’d just gotten to perch on his thighs when a knock at the door startled you both. Your head whipped around just after his eyes flew open and he gripped your hand tighter. 

“That’ll be the kit,” he said, breathing heavily. 

“Oh.” You’d almost forgotten he’d called down for it. “Right. I can….” You pulled your hand free from his. “I can get it.” 

“If you--”

“I can,” you repeated, nearly toppling over as you swung your leg off him. “Stay.” You flung the sheet haphazardly over his waist and he chuckled as you stood and pulled your robe on, glancing at the clock on the bedside table as you did. 

11:37am.

[wherethewordsare]

Wash the Day Away

I decided to try something new and I wrote some over indulgent smut.🙈🙈🙈 

CW: Explicit Sexual Content. Mind the tags kiddos. It’s gonna get Spicy™

It had been a very terrible no good day and all Jaskier wanted was to go home, flop into Geralt’s lap and watch bad television with a hand in his hair. To top off his very terrible no good day, when he got home he remembered it was Tuesday and Geralt was at the gym with his brothers and then would probably go out with them for the evening. 

He groaned as he stripped out of his clothes, and made his way for the bathroom, groaning again when the cold tile was unforgiving under his feet, chilling his toes. The water seemed to take forever to heat up but when it finally did, he stepped under and slumped against the wall, his eyes sliding shut. 

All he had to do was shower and then he could climb into bed and by time Geralt got home, he’d get to spoon up next to him and pass the fuck out. His hands worked out the lather in his hair before he leaned his forehead back against the tile, letting the heat of the water seep into his bones. 

When the curtain behind him shifted he let out a yelp, holding up the shampoo bottle as his only defense before the water cleared from his eyes and he saw Geralt standing there. 

“Oh, hello,” Jaskier swallowed lamely, turning to press his forehead back to the wall. “I figured you’d be out with the guys until much later.” He huffed, willing his heart rate to settle. It had been a very nearly impossibly terrible no good day and he felt jittery and frayed. 

Large warm hands wrapped around his shoulders, tugging him gently until he was pressed against Geralt’s chest, a scruffy chin sliding over his shoulder. “You didn’t text much today. Thought you might have had a bit of a day,” Geralt pressed a kiss to his neck, his lips twitching slightly. “Sorry I spooked you,” another kiss to the ball of Jaskier’s shoulder. 

Tension was already sliding out of him that he hadn’t realized he had been holding onto. Jaskier sighed and leaned back, his hands coming up to lace through Geralt’s. “I want to quit.” He groused, feeling petulant. 

“No you don’t. You love your job.” Geralt’s hands slid up and down his sides in long soothing motions, though they kept Jaskier close to him as he kissed and nipped at his skin. 

“I do love my job, but the people I work with are the worst and I hate it,” he couldn’t seem to maintain the same level of agitation he had felt when he had gotten home. “This is working a bit too well and I wonder if I should worry you’ve tricked me somehow,” Jaskier chuckled. He tried to turn in Geralt’s arms but he was stopped by fingers digging into his hips. “Oh ho ho, really?” 

“Hmm,” was all he got in response as teeth grazed near the top of his shoulder. Geralt slid one hand up from Jaskier’s hip, pressing gently at his back until he was leaning against the wall again, his forehead pressed to the tile as Geralt left a trail of hot wet open mouthed kisses down his spine. He felt as Geralt slid to his knees behind him, his hands cupping the globes of Jaskier ass as he bit into his side gently. 

“Holy fucking hell, Geralt,” he breathed, squirming slightly. There was a soft chuckle and another kiss at his hip before Geralt’s hand slipped between his cheeks and began to tease lightly at his hole. Jaskier nearly jumped at the sudden contact, his eyes fluttering. “I’m going to start having more bad days if I get to come home to this.” 

“Or, you could just ask,” Geralt deadpanned even as he lightly pressed against Jaskier’s entrance with his thumb. He hummed against Jaskier’s skin again as he slowly dipped his head down the curve of Jaskier’s thigh, simply teasing him now. 

“I don’t know if I’ll survive to the next time, Melitele, aah,” Jaskier pressed back eagerly into Geralt’s touch trying not to whine as he felt his prick grow more and more interested while Geralt’s hand roamed everywhere but where Jaskier was starting to need it the most. 

Behind him, Geralt only chuckled, working his way in a series of bites that would certainly leave a trail in Jaskier’s skin that he would feel for days. That thought alone made him twitch. It wasn’t until he felt Geralt’s hot breath just on his tailbone that he truly began to squirm. 

“Geralt, please, fuck, mercy.” Suddenly he didn’t feel steady on his knees and Geralt must have sensed it too because before he could say anything else, strong arms wrapped up his body, holding him steadily as Geralt swiped his tongue over Jaskier’s rim, causing him to gasp. Jaskier dropped his forehead to the tile with a thud and did everything in his power to stay upright. 

Geralt started slowly, drawing out each press of his tongue, his fingers twitching irregularly against Jaskier’s ribs as he held him up. The water was still blissfully hot but was nothing compared to where Geralt’s mouth worked over his entrance. When he finally pressed in it was all Jaskier could do not to collapse as his knees threatened to buckle. 

Resting his shoulders and chest against the cool tile, Jaskier reached behind him, his fingers sliding into soaked hair and tugging gently. It was all the encouragement Geralt needed before he was pressing his tongue in deeper, working Jaskier open. It left him breathless and needy, the slight burn of the stretch singing in his veins. 

One of Geralt’s hands on his ribs slid higher, finding Jaskier’s nipple to tease, tugging it until Jaskier was panting with effort, his still neglected cock jumping at the overwhelming sensation of being at Geralt’s complete mercy. He squeezed his eyes shut as his hips canted back, seeking more as words began to tumble from his lips, unbidden and unstoppable. 

“Geralt, fuck, so good. Gods, just… fuck need…” He moaned as Geralt pressed in, spreading Jaskier open on his tongue, teeth grazing from time to time on his sensitive skin making him jump and shiver and keen. Before too long, Geralt was pulling away, his forehead resting on the back of Jaskier’s thigh as calloused wide fingers probed gently at his slick hole. Jaskier pressed back into the touch, his head thrown back. “Geralt! Please,” he panted, not quite sure what it was he was asking for. 

Geralt seemed to know though as he pulled away from Jaskier just long enough for Jaskier to hear the snap of a bottle before the firm line of Geralt’s body was pressed against him again, his mouth back at Jaskier’s neck and shoulders, nipping and growling low into Jaskier’s ear. 

“Going to take you apart, sweetheart, and put you back together and do it all over again,” he murmured as slick fingers pressed into Jaskier, making his breath catch. 

“Fuck, you horny bastard. I was just trying to shower,” Jaskier tries but he’s leaning into every touch Geralt is giving him, his body trembling. Geralt only chuckled before a hand slid up to take Jaskier’s chin. His head was tilted up and back until he was in a filthy delicious kiss with Geralt, his heart hammering as Geralt worked him open with a second finger, almost too quickly but not nearly fast enough. He whimpered as Geralt stretched him open, his erection digging into Jaskier’s thigh. 

The water still ran hot and Jaskier felt like he might melt if Geralt kept this up. Just when he was about to start begging for Geralt to get on with it, he was turned abruptly and Geralt crowded him back against the tile, smirking at the noise of indignation Jaskier gave. 

“Was planning on fucking you instead if that’s alright,” Geralt’s hands slid under Jaskier’s thighs, lifting him with ease and pinning him against the cold tile. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, dear heart,” Jaskier groaned, tilting down slightly to kiss Geralt again, messy and uncoordinated as they shifted, trying to align their bodies properly. It wasn’t the most graceful sex they had ever had but it was quickly souring to the top of hottest. 

“Hmm,” was all the response he got as Geralt buried his face into Jaskier’s neck. He shifted his hips once more and the head of his cock bumped against Jaskier, making him shiver and squirm, needing more. Geralt got the hint, seemingly no longer in the mood to tease, he slowly pressed up into Jaskier, groaning as he bit down into his neck.

Jaskier’s fingers tangled into Geralt’s hair, tugging roughly as he started to move, pushing Jaskier up the wall slightly with every thrust. He wrapped his legs tightly around Geralt’s waist, clinging to him as best as he could. Their lips clashed together in something like an attempt at another kiss but ended up with them panting desperately into the same space, their foreheads pressing together as they chased their pleasures. 

Geralt’s fingers dug into Jaskier’s thighs pulling him up slightly, shifting him and the new angle made Jaskier see stars the next time Geralt slid home. He was winded and dizzy, his thighs trembling as he felt the heat start to coil tightly at the pit of his stomach. 

“Geralt, Geralt, please… So- fuck! So close!” He managed through a long low moan. Geralt only nodded slightly, his hips snapping up and making Jaskier cry out. It was too much and just the right amount of perfect, the weight of Geralt’s strength holding Jaskier easily against the tiled wall of their bathroom, the way he groaned every time Jaskier tightened around him, the perfect heat of the air wrapping around them. 

Within a few off rhythm thrusts, Jaskier was coming with a bitten off moan, his spend coating his chest where the water couldn’t get around Geralt’s broad shoulders. Geralt leaned into Jaskier, his forehead pressed to his shoulder as he gave in to a relentless pace for a moment, the heavy smacking of skin against skin ringing in the small space before he stilled, his body taught. He spilled into Jaskier with a litany of curses and half mumbled praise. He all but slumped into Jaskier who barely managed to catch himself let alone Geralt. 

They stood there leaning against the wall as the water behind them ran tepid, catching their breath. 

“Water’s getting cold,” Geralt said as if he hadn’t just left Jaskier completely shaken. 

“Well you’d still have hot water if you hadn’t been so preoccupied,” Jaskier shot back but there was about as much heat in it as there had been in the water. 

Geralt grinned as he pressed a kiss to Jaskier’s shoulder. Turning, he shut the water off and pulled back the curtain. They fell into an easy quiet as they got out and dried, finding themselves leaning into each others’ space more often than necessary to slowly kiss. Geralt just managed to get his sweatpants back on when he was backing Jaskier out of their bathroom, his hands on his hips, guiding him. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jaskier chuckled, letting himself be kissed and manhandled, feeling far more relaxed than he had when he had gotten home. 

“I told you, sweetheart. Going to do it all over again,” Geralt gave him a wolfish grin as he scooped Jaskier up under the thighs, making him have to wrap himself around Geralt quickly or fall. 

He yelped slightly before dissolving into a fit of laughter as Geralt dropped him onto the bed before pouncing. 

It was going to be a wonderful very good night.

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In -- Chapter 16

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC

Warning: Some language, mild sexual talk

Since it’s been awhile since I last posted an update, in the previous chapter Madeleine had confronted Riley with a video after she left the ball. 

Thank you @burnsoslow for the preread and beta.

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

Riley sat on a leather bench at the foot of the bed with a television remote held loosely between her hands, folded in her lap. 

Somehow her worn-out body managed to walk from the corridor after the encounter with Madeleine, up the many stairs of the quarters she shared with Liam and to their bedroom. The shock of the situation combined with exhaustion and throbbing pain in her lower back was secondary to the fear she felt at possibly giving up the man she loved. 

With trembling hands, she had slipped the DVD into the player and watched her nightmare play out on the screen -- It was all true. Madeleine acquired an illicit video of Riley and her ex-husband that the Queen had no clue was recorded of her or existed.

Her thumb grazed over the pause button several times, but she knew pressing it wouldn’t stop the hurt and embarrassment she felt at that moment at watching her former husband violating her trust and privacy. It wouldn’t stop Madeleine from releasing the video of it to the press and public. And it wouldn't stop the love she felt for Liam -- no one was powerful enough to take that feeling away from her.

But it was those words Madeleine threatened her with that got equal consideration with that video in Riley’s mind. She tried to envision how the scenario would carry out if the video was released and for those who would be affected by it: her father, her friends, her former students. 

Liam.

“It’s a shame that he’ll lose his reign, all because of you.”

“Would you really do that to Liam?”

“Do you genuinely believe you’re worth all the trouble it will cause him?”

Riley hit the pause button, her hands flying up to cover her tear-laden face as she bent over in sobs, shaking her head. She was wrestling with that inner voice, replaying Madeleine’s words like a broken record while struggling to remember everything Liam told her about trusting him and his love for her.

No matter how hard she tried to let his tender voice speak to that sacred place in her heart, Madeleine’s threats and taunts were getting the best of her. If there was even a slight possibility that the Countess was right, and Liam would get dragged through the mud in all of this, then there was no question what needed to be done. 

Those scattered bricks that formed the walls she came to Cordonia with, the ones Liam had broken down, were quickly stacking up again, one on top of the other. If something didn’t happen soon, Riley would be surrounded and suffocated inside that impenetrable cocoon that initially caused herself to doubt her worthiness to him in the first place.

All of those insecurities and fears crept up faster than a flooded riverbank, and she felt powerless to stop it from rising. Even if she could, she’d never allow Liam to suffer the consequences of something she had the power to prevent. To hell with whatever happened to her, but not him. He saved her weeks ago, and as her teary gaze slid from her hands to the wardrobe closet across the room, this would be her way of saving him.

Riley picked up the remote from her lap and tossed it aside. Determined to get out of the palace and Cordonia before anyone could see her, she swallowed her anger and grief and swiped a knuckle under each eye to dry the tears shed. 

She rose to her feet faster than she should have, feeling an intense shock of pain that began in her hip and shot down to her feet. There were no doubts that the fall from struggling with Madeleine injured her far worse than she wanted to admit to herself. With a shrieking whimper, she ground her teeth together and doubled over, feeling like she might faint. 

Riley grasped her back and gave herself a second to breathe through the pain before straightening up and staggering to her wardrobe to pack whatever she could as quickly as possible.

_____________

Liam stepped off the dance floor with Olivia's arm curled through his and escorted her back to their table. The conclusion of the ball was nearly upon him, and most guests had already stopped on their way out to say their farewells and offer congratulatory well-wishes. When they'd ask about the Queen's whereabouts, he'd tell them she had something come up that needed her attention. No one dared press him on the issue.

Checking the time on his watch, Liam looked up as Maxwell ran over with his phone in hand and dropped into a seat. He looked curiously at the out of breath Beaumont and asked, "What's going on, Maxwell?"

"Sorry," he replied before plucking a flute of champagne from a passing server's tray and gulping it down quickly. Wiping the droplets that dribbled from his mouth to his chin off with the back of his hand, he panted. "I ran here as fast as I could. I just got a text message from Drake. He's heading back soon."

"Did he say what the results of the paternity test were?" Olivia asked.

Maxwell nodded. "Yeah. They're Bastien's for sure. Las Vegas officials are allowing Drake to leave, but they've detained Bas until he pays up the $200,000 he owes to Boom Boom. Drake's return flight is scheduled to leave tomorrow morning, Cordonia time."

Liam pulled out his wallet and tossed $100 at a smug Leo, who promptly counted them out and stuffed the bills into his pocket. "I told you those little dudes weren't mine, bro. Really, your doubt in me hurts." 

"I'll admit you were right, Leo. But you do have a track record when it comes to being involved in weird stuff like this."

"Yeah, I've gotten myself into some pretty hairy shit a time or two," he laughed as the memories came to him. "Ahh, good times, good times. But, y'know, it wasn't always just fun and games with me, Liam. During those few occasions when I'd show up to train on being the top dog of this place, Father taught me several valuable lessons. Wanna know what they were?"

"Not really," Liam answered dryly, then tossed back the rest of his scotch to prepare himself. "But I assume you're going to tell me anyway."

"Damn right I am! This is good shit to know, straight from the Big Kahuna himself." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "You must never tell anyone what I'm about to share with you all. This is top secret, classified Cordonian shit we're talking about; lives are on the line here. Father would be pissed if --"

"Just spit it out already!" Olivia snapped.

"Alright, first, never jizz in a jacuzzi unless you want to be covered in a thin spiderweb-like amalgamation of your own gravy. Daddio said he learned the hard way on that one ..."

"Oh, God. Leo!" Sickened, Liam dropped his head.

" ... Next, when you kiss a woman's hand, do it on the thumb side. Most people scratch their asses with their fingers, but rarely their thumbs. I might be an exception to the rule on that one." Leo chuckled to himself. "And lastly ... Rys spermies are MEAN sons-of-bitches, and we should dip my balls in a mug of hot water every day to kill them before having sex." 

"What the hell?" Olivia grimaced as she lowered her coffee mug away from her lips and pushed it away. 

"My dad told me the same thing," Maxwell boasted. "Except he called them Beaumont spermies. I guess he heard the same story from someone different than your dad."

Liam lowered the hands that were covering his face and breathed out heavily, "Leo, did our father ever teach you about anything other than using protection and sex during these meetings? Anything about negotiations, taxes, treaties ..."

Leo considered him for a moment. "Nope. He said you'd do all that stuff."

Liam grumbled. "Of course he did."

Olivia looked between Leo and Maxwell and scowled. "Well, it's too bad neither of your fathers took their own advice." She grabbed her clutch from the table. "At least I'll rest easier knowing the two of you aren't reproducing. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"I'll walk out with you, Liv." Liam rose and left the ballroom, having had more than enough of his fill of Leo for the night. There was also an incredibly sexy woman upstairs he'd been dreaming of pleasing all day, and he was overly eager to make good on his promise to join her shortly. 

______________

Liam made his way through the residential wing and down the long hallway to his quarters. While undoing his tie, he stopped midway when he noticed a vase that usually sat on a decorative table along the wall, tipped over on its side with bundles of long-stemmed roses littered on the ground around it. 

As he stooped down to pick them up, he found it oddly peculiar -- they didn't just fall over like this on their own. If a member of the staff had knocked them over, they would have picked them up; he felt certain Riley would have, as well.  

After rearranging the flowers in the vase and situating them back on the table, Liam removed his key card from his pocket and swiped it through the key fob next to the door.

"Riley! I'm home," he called out in a sensual tone, knowing she was most likely upstairs -- hopefully naked and ready to get her ass spanked -- and wouldn't have heard him.  

Taking a moment to check his reflection in the entryway mirror, Liam smoothed back his hair and tested his breath against his palm, satisfied he was good. After a quick stop in the kitchen to grab a can of whipped cream and chocolate sauce, Liam ascended the stairs, two at a time, to his bedroom. 

"Daddy's ready for his dessert ..." his exuberant voice trailed off as the sultry smirk he donned quickly faded away when he walked into an empty room. "Riley?"

Glancing around the bedroom, the en suite door was still open, and the light was off, so he knew she wasn't in there. The bed was still in pristine form and didn't look touched. He wasn't at all worried; Riley likely went for a snack, even though that thought seemed rather odd considering how adamant she was about returning to their quarters earlier.

Liam placed the toppings on a side table and slipped out his phone. He plopped down on the bench at the foot of their bed, thinking maybe he'd missed a message or call from her. 

There was nothing.

He scratched his head; it wasn't like Riley not to mention to him if she'd gone somewhere, not that she had to. But in this case, she knew he'd be up soon. Thinking about the overturned vase Liam walked upon, something started to not sit well with him. 

With the cell still in his hand, he pulled her contact information up. Just as he was about to hit the dial button, he heard "Liam" in a low, raspy voice.

Relief washed over him as he stood and put his phone away. "Love, you worried me. Everything okay?" Her face was ashen, and her eyes red and swollen. Liam's insides immediately clinched.

Riley didn't answer as Liam crossed the room, frantically approaching her, worry engraved on his features. “Riley, love, what’s wrong? What happened?” His eyes were desperately searching for any clue as to what was clearly something wrong with his wife.

She held out her hand, preventing him from coming too close. “Please ... don’t.”

Bewildered, he asked, “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

Riley turned her head away somberly; she couldn't bear to look at him. She had planned to get out of the palace before he returned from the ball; there was no way she would be able to face him. Liam would want an explanation that she couldn't give him. But when she got to the car, Riley noticed there was something important she forgot to give back to him, and there was no way she would take it. Maybe somewhere inside, even if she couldn't admit it, she needed to see him and do this right. “I ... have to go.” Her words were barely audible.

Liam's brows bumped together. “Go? You’re going somewhere this late? But you were tired before --”

“No,” Her head shook faster than she realized before she spat the rest out. “I’m leaving Cordonia. I’m returning to Las Vegas, and I’m not coming back.”

“Riley? What the hell is going on? You were fine and having a good time 30 minutes ago, and now, all of a sudden, you want to go back to Nevada. What am I missing here? Does this have something to do with what happened at dinner? Because I told you --”

“You’re not missing anything. I came here to prevent you from marrying Madeleine, and I did that. That was the agreement, and now ... I’m going home.”

Liam started to laugh and wagged his finger at her. “Leo put you up to pranking me? He's mad about me sending that damn monkey away and is trying to get me back, right? Because if he did, that's just … just heartless. And I don’t find it funny.”

“No, Liam.." She shook her head again. "Leo didn’t put me up to this, and it's not a prank.” Riley carefully pulled off the wedding bands she came back to give him and held them out to him.

He looked at them and gritted his teeth. “Put them back on,” he commanded.

“I can’t do that, Liam. They belonged to your mother, and I’m not taking something so sentimental with me back to Vegas.”

“You’re damn right you're not taking them back to Vegas with you because you’re not going!”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not!”

Riley choked out into a wispy sob, “I’m so sorry, Liam. I'm so sorry!”

He said nothing as he stared at her in disbelief and saw that she was serious. “Why?” He asked as his throat clenched and the first tear slipped down his cheek.

Her body felt leaden, never having seen him this shattered. “Liam, I just want to go home, okay? I mean ... this has been an amazing experience, and I’ll never forget it, but I miss my home, and my job, and my friends ..."

“Fuck your home! I’ll buy you one here that looks just like it. Visit your friends all you want ... hell, bring them here if you want to; I don’t care. That's NOT what's going on! There’s something you’re not telling me. And I want to know, NOW!”

Riley startled at his yell, wanting to hold him and make it better. “Liam, I don’t want to be in Cordonia anymore, or be the Queen, or live in this palace. I want to go home.”

He motioned around the room.“THIS is your home, Riley ... Cordonia.  I’m your home! This palace is your home." Liam scrubbed a frustrated hand furiously over his face. "Again, you were fine 30 minutes ago. What changed between you leaving the ball and coming up here? You're not telling the truth for some reason, but I can’t figure out why. Did I do something to upset you? Did someone else do something to upset you?"

"No!" she responded expeditiously.

"I love you, Riley. You know that, right?" She nodded; the glisten in his blue eyes and the desperation in his trembling voice was destroying her willpower. "Do you …  still love me?"

Riley slammed her eyes shut. She loved him with every fiber of her being, and to tell him so in this very moment would only serve to prolong this hellacious situation. The only way to protect him from losing everything -- in her mind -- was to let him go. He would fight her on this, and it broke her heart to see the pain and confusion in his eyes, but it had to be done.

“Do. You. Love. Me?” he enunciated his question once more. The struggle and agony on her face were evident to him.

Riley turned away from Liam and faced the door. Did she have it in her to answer that question with a lie?

"... the council will have no choice but to question Liam's decision-making abilities after not only squandering his pick of a queen on some American nobody but now one whose ass will be featured on the desktops of teenage boys across the world. It's a shame he'll lose his reign, all because of you. Would you really do that to Liam? Are you worth the trouble?"

The sadness crushed her. There was no other way to protect him. Riley swiped at her face and answered firmly.

“No.”

With that, the Queen walked out, leaving the King in an empty room with his shock, his confusion, and an unimaginable pain he'd never get over.

-----------

Tags:

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @jessiembruno @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography @txemrn @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @yourmajesty09 @natureblooms24 @gabesmommie1130 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @kat-tia801 @debramcg1106 @shewillreadyou @choicesstan650 @emkay512 @royalromancer

Liam x MC: @cordonia-gothqueen

Fools Rush In tags: @narrytheworld @queenwalton​ @cordonianprincess​ @zaffrenotes​ @zilch3​ @drrookie​ @sfb123​ @secretaryunpaid​

[wholesomemendes]

The Winter Ball Date

College/Friends to Lover Au

Summary: When one year you get asked to the annual Winter Ball by someone other than Shawn, the two of you realize what you’ve been looking past for years.

Author’s Note: Long time no see! This is part of Julia’s Winter Writing Challenge by @wondershawns and I am so excited to have participated! My setting prompt was “A knock on the window” and the line “You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this”. I hope you guys enjoy! As always, I love hearing any type of feedback and I love you all x

Word Count: 8.4k

Presents, Christmas music, your mother’s famous cookies on your tongue, all playing one by one in your mind. The feeling of just being home again instead of in a small, stuffy dorm seemed so close, yet so far away and you couldn’t help but wish that this last month would fly by. A soft nudge to your foot broke you out of your thoughts, “What’s got you in a daze?” You blinked your eyes rapidly to focus your thoughts to the present once again, turning your gaze to the curly haired boy next to you with a bright smile on his face. 

“I’m just thinking about Christmas and being home again,” you sighed dreamily, your head coming to rest on your hand. 

“Christmas is over a month away, you’re better off worrying about finals if you’re thinking that far ahead,” he laughed as a hand came up to lightly push your shoulder.

You cast a harsh glare at him through the dim light of the library, “It’s never too early to start thinking about Christmas. Aren’t you excited?”

“Of course I’m excited.” Shawn leaned back against his chair looking into space, “I get to go home and see family and I only have to worry about my sister instead of a bunch of rowdy frat boys.”

You let out a chuckle at his words, “Aren’t you also a rowdy frat boy?”

“You wound me.” He dramatically placed a hand over his heart, “Besides, I’m more excited to annoy you every day over break.”

“You already annoy me every day.”

“Maybe, but it’ll be much more convenient than me walking all the way across campus to get to your dorm.” You couldn’t lie that he did have a point there. The two of you had been best friends ever since the day your family moved into the house next to his in middle school. You had been inseparable ever since, choosing to go to the same college a few hours from your houses and meeting almost every day since you had joined as freshman. Three years later and nothing had changed, except for how tall Shawn had managed to grow in those years and how the both of you definitely had matured in both personality and appearance since you were in middle school.

“How fortunate for me then,” you laughed, turning your attention back to the abandoned textbook in front of you. 

Shawn’s eyes remained on you, cocking an eyebrow your way, “What, you’re not looking forward to my random visits?” 

“Oh no, I am so looking forward to being woken up in the middle of the night because you can’t sleep.”

“Hey that was only twice!”

“Two times too many if you ask me,” you mumbled under your breath, however the smirk on your face told Shawn that you meant for him to hear it. He simply pulled your chair closer to him and rammed his knuckles into your head until you were laughing and begging him to stop. 

____________________

“You’re coming to the game tonight right?” You had found your way into Shawn’s bed after a full day of classes with your head on his chest, a random hockey game playing on the television across from the two of you. Shawn’s arm provided a comforting warmth as it laid across your stomach, pulling you into him, and each pass of his fingertip onto your skin made you relax further into him. The cuddling wasn’t anything new to the two of you, even the electric feeling you felt from his touch had almost become normal to you. Almost.

“Of course I am. I’ve never missed one, have I?”

“You’re right you haven’t,” he smiled down at you, a stray curl falling in front of his face, “Just wanted to make sure my good luck charm would be there.”

You reached up to brush his hair out of his face, but Shawn quickly grabbed your arm, playfully biting your finger until you pulled away and your wrist was left in his grasp. “I refuse to believe I’m your good luck charm.”

“We’ve been undefeated for three years, hun. You’re my good luck charm.”

“But-”

“Nope, shut it. Don’t want to hear a peep from you.” He pulled you tighter into him before placing a delicate kiss to your hair, “Remind me to give you my jersey for tonight. Want to make sure everyone knows whose good luck charm you are.”

“You’re such a goof.”

____________________

Shawn won. Again. It was no surprise, especially since the team they were up against were no good, but that didn’t mean that you weren’t incredibly proud of him. He absolutely amazed you every time he went out on the ice and you couldn’t help but wait impatiently in the main corridor of the arena. Students rustled around you as you waited though you paid them no mind, simply choosing to admire the banners on the wall instead. The sudden increase in noise caused you to turn your head towards the locker rooms where a certain curly-headed boy was leading a pack of freshly showered athletes. You sprinted past the crowds of people in his direction as Shawn dropped his bag, opting instead to pick you up in his arms as you ran straight into him. You wrapped your legs around him like a koala with your head buried into his neck, breathing in the strong, heady scent of his shampoo. “There’s my good luck charm,” he sighed into your hair and you laughed, only causing a brighter smile to form on his face.

“You were incredible, Shawn. You’re constantly impressing me out there.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, lifting his head to look you in the eyes, “Always means the most coming from my number one fan.”

You flashed him a smile that mirrored his as he slid you down to the floor, making sure that you were always close to him even while others were surrounding him. Your eyes stayed trained on him and the aura that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. They followed the path of his jaw, his neck, to his broad shoulders he always made you massage for him. But before you could finish admiring him, you felt a presence behind you and a slight grasp on your arm. You turned only to be met with a tall figure with beautiful green eyes and dirty blonde hair. He seemed to be about Shawn’s height, maybe an inch shorter, and although his smile wasn’t as bright as Shawn’s was, it still managed to take your breath away for a moment. “Hi, I’m Grant,” the man introduced himself, extending his hand for you to grab, “Are you Shawn’s girlfriend?”

You turned your focus back to Shawn who was currently in the middle of a conversation with a couple fraternity brothers and sorority sisters before coming back to this new mysterious man. “Oh no, we’re not, we’re not dating. We’re just best friends.” Grant seemed to have some distrust in his eyes at your words, his eyebrow lifting up slightly in question. “I’m Y/n by the way.” Grabbing his outstretched hand you let yourself appreciate the polite person in front of you.

“I’m sorry I assumed you’re dating. I’m in the frat with Shawn; we’re not good friends or anything but I’ve seen the two of you around in there.” Suddenly your mind clicked to where you had seen him before off of the rink. Most of the boys on the hockey team all resided in the same fraternity so it shouldn’t have been a surprise to you to learn that you had been in the same house as Grant multiple times. “You two are really close, I can’t be the only one that has mistaken the two of you as dating.”

“Yeah…,” you trailed off, sparing a glance back at Shawn, “It happens a lot more than you think. But I promise we’re not. I’m as single as one can be.” Grant’s smile seemed to grow at your words and his shoulders relaxed an inch. 

“Well in that case I actually wanted to ask you…”

“What’s going on over here?” A heavy weight slid across your shoulders, effectively pulling you into a warm body you immediately recognized. You rolled your eyes at the interruption. Perfect timing as always, Shawn. 

“Nothing, just introducing ourselves to one another,” Grant replied, that smile that you were beginning to grow fond of diminishing slightly. 

“Good, was worried that my good luck charm was switching sides.” Shawn sent a pointed look your way with a smirk playing on his lips.

“Good luck charm?”

“Why do you think we haven’t lost a game yet?” Shawn questioned, reaching out to pinch our cheeks, “It’s this little one right here giving me all the luck.” You swatted his hand away bitterly, but his smirk only grew. “Well I’m sure this has been great. Grant, I’ll see you later at the frat and you missy, we have a celebratory dinner to catch.” He maneuvered his way through the people calling his name, bringing you right to his classic jeep.

“You’re horrible you know that right,” you huffed as soon as you got into the seat.

“What ever could you be talking about?” he said innocently.

“If you keep acting like this, I’ll truly never get into a relationship.”

“You’re being silly.”

“Says the one that literally interrupted an entire conversation I had barely even started yet.”

“I was simply worried about you.”

“Mhm, sure.” You stared out the window in protest, not even moving when you felt his hand on your lower thigh.

“Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you liked Grant. I was just looking out for you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I like him, I’ve known him for all of five minutes, but it would be nice to maybe explore some options without my personal bodyguard getting in the way.”

“Once again I’m sorry that I got in the way then. I guess Grant is not the worst guy you could have chosen out of the bunch,” he trailed off as he pulled into the diner parking lot the two of you had been frequenting at after almost every hockey game, “Now let’s put this behind us. I’m really craving some fries and a milkshake.” 

____________________

The brisk wind of the courtyard made you tighten your jacket around yourself in a poor attempt to keep the chills away. A sigh of relief escaped your lips once you rounded the corner of the lecture hall you had previously been in, leading you through a row of buildings that temporarily protected you from the harsh weather of Toronto. You kept your eyes trained in front of you, desperately trying to will your feet to somehow move faster to get you to Shawn’s frat house for your usual post-class wind down.

“Hey Y/n!” You whipped your head around to see the source of your name, but after coming up empty handed in the small crowd of students behind you, you shook your head, convincing yourself you just imagined it as you continued your walk. “Y/n, wait!” Pausing this time, you turned your body around completely only to be met with the sight of Grant maneuvering his way carefully around the other students. Upon seeing you stopped, his face light up and he started to jog his way towards you until he was close enough for you to feel some of his body heat. “Hey.”

“Hey, Grant. How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. Sorry to catch you at such a bad time, but I didn’t know when I was going to see you again,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “I also didn’t want to wait too long to ask this because I was afraid I’d miss my chance.”

“What’s going on?”

“Are you going to the Winter Ball with anyone?” The Winter Ball was the annual end of the semester party Shawn and Grant’s fraternity held every year that was incredibly exclusive. The only way to get in was if one of the members took you as their date, which meant that almost every girl was dying for someone to ask her. 

At that moment your gaze fell to the beautiful bouquet of red roses that were present in his hands before your eyes lifted to meet his that were so full of hope and nerves. “As of right now I am not. Why do you ask?”

“That’s great! I mean, that’s not great that you’re not going with anyone, but great because I, um, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go with me?” 

You flashed him a bright smile as he handed the bouquet towards you, “I would love to go with you, Grant.”

“Really? That’s, that’s amazing. I’m looking forward to it.”

“So am I.” 

He wrapped his arms around you in a quick hug before moving the other way, “I hate to leave right away, I’d love to stay and talk, but I really need to get to class.”

You waved him off, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah of course,” he began walking away until his eyebrows raised and he came back, “Wait, can I actually get your number?” You saved your number into the contacts of his phone and gave him a wave, heading your way back to the line of frat houses you were looking for. The butterflies in your stomach were doing front flips as you tried to will the humongous smile off of your face. A guy just asked you to be his date to the Winter Ball. A really cute, sweet guy just asked you to be his date to the Winter Ball. Never in a million years did you think someone like him would even imagine asking you to be their date yet here you were, the most delightful smelling roses in your hand and a fluttering feeling in your body. You hardly comprehended that you had already stepped foot into the frat house until you were opening the door to Shawn’s room and falling onto his bed next to him with a dopey smile on your face. 

Shawn looked over at you questioningly from his phone, ‘What’s going on with the flowers and the face?”

“Shawn, you won’t believe it!” you practically squealed, turning onto your side, “Grant just asked me to be his date to the Winter Ball!”

“The Winter Ball?”

“Yes! Isn’t that the best thing ever! I’ve never been asked before!”

“What do you mean? You’ve been my date every year.” If you hadn’t been so caught up with the giddiness in your chest you might have been able to notice the fleeting look of sadness in his eyes as he spoke.

“That’s not the same though. I wasn’t really your date, we just went as friends.”

“Yeah, but you were still considered my date.”

“Still, it’s not the same thing.” 

A small moment of silence took over the room before Shawn cleared his throat. “So...you said yes?”

“Of course I said yes, I’d be stupid not to.” 

“Oh.”

You watched as he focused back on his phone, a tiny frown on his face that you could hardly notice, “What’s wrong.”

“Nothing. I’m glad you’re so happy about this.”

“Don’t lie to me, Mendes, what’s wrong?”

“Just wondering what I’m going to do about a date this year.”

“That’s what you’re upset about?” you looked at him incredulously, “Please, you’re one of the most sought after guys in this school. You could go up to any girl on this entire campus and none of them would even hesitate to say yes.”

“I guess.”

“You guess?” you scoffed, “What about Jessica? I’ve seen the two of you talking a lot at post game parties and everything. You two look like you get along.” 

“Yeah, I could always ask her,” he sighed, “But Jessica isn’t going to drag me into my room at four in the morning asking me to sing her a song on the guitar so she can fall asleep.” He sent a teasing smile your way as he referenced your habit of pulling his hand through crowds of people until you got to his room when you felt too tired and wanted to go to sleep.

“I’m sorry, Shawn. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You thought for a moment, “I know! I’ll buy you pizza from your favorite pizza place! You know, the one across from the campus coffee shop where they put extra cheese on top.”

“That’s not my favorite pizza place.”

“But every time we go there you say…”

“I only say that because I know it’s your favorite pizza place.” His gaze fell soft upon you, “Don’t get me wrong it’s not bad, but I don’t have a favorite and I know you’re more likely to go there if I said it’s also my favorite.”

“Oh,” you looked down at your hands, “Well thank you.” Shawn hummed in response, his eyes traveling back to his phone. “You can still come over beforehand to get ready together like we always do.”

He let out a sad chuckle, “Don’t think Grant would much like that, honey.”

“That’s too bad if he doesn’t like it because it’s important to me that we get ready together and you’re the first person to see me all fancied up.” 

Shawn swore he felt his heart stutter in his chest, “If you want me over, I’d be more than happy to get ready with you.”

“Perfect, it’s a date.”

____________________

You couldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt when you noticed that Shawn had been a little more distant with you in the past week. Your texts sat on delivered for longer, you were no longer going over to his room after every lecture due to him “being busy”, and the nightly FaceTime calls were no longer nightly. You blamed it on hockey practices piling up and finals getting closer but in reality, you knew that wasn’t the case. There was only a week until finals, and therefore the Winter Ball, when you finally ran into Shawn again on your way to a class, very obviously catching him off guard. “Hey, long time no see.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve been really busy lately,” he told you, but you knew him long enough to tell that the way his eyes wouldn’t maintain contact with you was a telltale sign that there was more to the story.

“Don’t worry about it, just miss you is all. Did you find a date yet for the ball?”

“Oh yeah, I asked Jessica like you told me to.”

“That’s great! Are you doing anything later today?”

“Uh, I don’t know…”

“I’m going dress shopping for the Winter Ball if you want to come with me like you always do.”

“Uh…”

“Come on, Shawn, you’re not going to break tradition are you?” 

He desperately wanted to respond with, “You already broke a tradition by ditching me without warning and going with Grant,” but he bit his tongue. “Sure,” he replied with a heavy heart, “I’d love to help you pick out a dress.”

“Yay! Why don’t we go right after class?”

“Ok, I can pick you up at three?”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you later, Mendes!” You left a searing kiss on his cheek before rushing off to class, leaving him staring after you longingly.

____________________

“Any ideas on what you want?” Shawn trailed behind you like a lost puppy as you skimmed your way through the many clothing racks. 

“Not really. Just want something that says ‘Please don’t regret inviting me. I swear I’m a good choice.’”

He couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his lips, “I don’t think you need a dress for that. You do that by yourself.”

You bit your lip to contain your smile, “Thank you, but I don’t know if everyone feels that way.”

“Well they should,” he mumbled, his fingers mulling over the beautiful items of clothing. A deep maroon, velvet dress caught his eye immediately and he pulled it out, examining it carefully before nodding his head, “Try this one on.”

“Hm,” you turned to look at him as he studied the dress, “Oh, that’s gorgeous. I’ll try it on if you want me to.”

He nodded his head before turning back to the dresses silently, not making any other comments as you looked around. Once you were satisfied with the dresses in your arms, you headed towards the dressing rooms, looking both ways to ensure that no one was around before pulling Shawn into one with you. He turned around as you changed; sure he had seen you in bikinis before and you were both sure that on more than one occasion when you were drunk that you had both changed in front of one another, but he still had enough respect for you to turn around whilst you put the first dress on. 

The first one was a simple black dress with long sleeves that you thought would be nice for the cold climate that came with living in Canada and although it was flattering, it didn’t feel like anything special. You turned to Shawn with a sigh, “What do you think?”

Personally, from the second you told him to turn around, Shawn swore he had seen an angel. The way the dress hugged your curves had him twitching in his pants and he had to swallow thickly in an attempt to control his thoughts. “I, um, I mean you look beautiful. I like it.”

“Really?” you asked, admiring yourself in the mirror, “I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel special to me.”

“Why don’t you just come back to that one then. I think it’s really pretty on you.”

“Yeah, you’re right I’ll just do that.” Four dresses later and you still hadn’t found the dress for you. There was a dark green one that you didn’t feel complimented your skin tone well enough (Shawn begged to differ), a black one with a plunged neckline that went way too far down for your comfort zone (Shawn was glad he didn’t have to protest against that one, he didn’t particularly like the idea of all the drunk, disrespectful boys in the frat seeing that), another black one that went too far down your legs (even though Shawn argued that it would keep your legs warm), and a light blue one that didn’t really fit your feeling of winter (Shawn almost lost his mind when you had bent down in front of him in that one to pick up a loose string that had fallen off of it). 

Finally, you had reached the dress Shawn had picked out for you, just as you were beginning to lose all hope of finding a dress. The moment you slipped it on you knew it felt different than the others: it fit you perfectly with a plunging neckline that showed just enough, the fabric wrapped along the middle to the bottom to accentuate your waist, your curves were shown in a way that it was flattering, but not too overwhelming, and the maroon color complimented your skin beautifully. You couldn't lie, Shawn had somehow managed to find the perfect dress for you. “Ok, you can turn around now.” 

He slowly uncovered his eyes and faced his body towards you, his mouth immediately going dry at the sight of you. The combination of your body in the dress and the gorgeous smile on your face was kryptonite for him and he couldn’t help but wish even harder that he was the one who was lucky enough to be your date for the ball. He motioned you towards him, rubbing his fingers along the fabric of the dress in a way that sent your stomach flipping. “This the one?” he asked, looking up at you with bright doe eyes. You nodded slowly, watching him tug his bottom lip between his teeth. “Grant is very lucky to have you as his date, honey.”

You paused. The thought of Grant taking you to the ball instead of Shawn had completely escaped your mind and in that moment you regretted ever agreeing to changing your date this year. “Yeah, um, right, I hope he likes it.”

“If he has a brain in that head of his then there’s no doubt he’s going to be blown away by you.” He gave a gentle smile your way before tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear and tapping your hip lightly, “Now go and get changed so we can go cash out.”

You nodded your head as he turned back around, silently smacking yourself in the face for the sudden butterflies that were forming in your stomach. Since when did he have such an effect on you? And why was he doing it so easily?

The moment you got to the cash register, he immediately pushed you out of the way and gave his credit card to the cashier before you could even pull out your wallet. “Shawn, why did you pay for that? I was going to…”

“Calm down, honey,” he laughed at your outburst as he opened the car door for you, “Think of it as an apology gift for me not hanging out with you as much as I usually do this week.”

“But…”

“No buts, it’s already done.” The car engine roared to life and all you could think about while you sat in the passenger seat of his car was how you were going to be wearing a dress that not only did Shawn pick out, but also bought for you while you had to act like you weren’t constantly thinking about him as you stood next to Grant the whole night. Shawn had made sure that you were completely and utterly screwed.

____________________

“Are you almost done?” you heard Shawn’s impatient call from your bedroom. You were living in a larger suite with a bunch of other girls so you were lucky enough to have your own bathroom attached to your room. Shawn had gotten ready in the bathroom before you but you refused to look at him until you were finished as well, not wanting to ruin the surprise. So he sat out there waiting for you while you fixed your hair and makeup relentlessly, watching the time pass by ever so slowly.

“Give me one more second!” you called out to him, adjusting one final strand of hair. You checked your makeup one last time before opening the door, revealing yourself to a Shawn who was sat perched on the end of the bed, phone in hand. 

He looked up at the sound of the door opening, his mouth dropping open ever so slightly, “Damn, you look just perfect.” 

You willed the heat in your cheeks to go away, “Thank you. You don’t look half as bad yourself. Quite dashing if I say so.” It was true, he was wearing a simple black button up with black dress pants that fit to his thighs perfectly as he stood up in front of you. His outfit shouldn’t have looked as attractive to you as it did, maybe it was something about the way he had the top few buttons open to reveal the small amount of chest hair he was currently sporting or the way his hair was styled to perfection with your favorite curl hanging out in front, but your heart couldn’t stop fluttering at the sight of him. And then it dropped the moment you realized that you weren’t the girl that got to walk hand in hand with him that night.

“Before we go I have something for you.” Shawn turned towards his bag where he pulled out one single rose for you, “I know I’m not your date this year, but it felt wrong to break tradition. Besides, needed to make sure a beautiful girl like you got a flower in case Grant dropped the ball.”

You were suddenly extremely aware of how close he was to you, his nose almost touching yours. His eyes flickered to your lips for a brief moment, so fast that you couldn’t even tell by the way you were so focused on his breath hitting your lips. “Thank you,” you whispered, “You shouldn’t have.”

“I definitely should have.” His eyes went to your lips once again, this time letting them linger slightly longer so you got the hint. Your hands were trapped holding the rose against his chest as his hands ghosted over your hips, fingertips teasing the fabric of your dress. Shawn tilted his head ever so slowly, nudging your nose with his until your lips parted with a breath.

The sound of your phone ringing broke the two of you apart in a hurry as though you were both afraid of being caught. You scrambled away from him, heading to your dresser to grab a hold of your phone, Grant’s name lighting up the screen making the guilt in your stomach grow. “Hey, Grant, what’s up?”

“Hey are you going to be here soon?” his voice filled your ear.

“Yeah, I’m leaving right now.”

“Perfect, can’t wait to see you.”

“Can’t wait to see you either,” your voice came out soft before you ended the call, bringing your phone down slowly to face Shawn. He had the same conflicted look in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher as he held eye contact with you. 

He let out a deep sigh, picking up his bag that was on the floor, “We should probably go.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, but made no move to head towards the door.

Shawn came over to you, placing his hands in his pockets. “Grant’s waiting for you.” You nodded your head. “Jessica’s waiting for me.” You nodded once again. He let out another sigh, putting a soft hand on your cheek and a kiss to your hair, “We need to go.” You watched as he walked towards the door, looking back at you once he reached the doorway, and you had no choice but to follow suit.

____________________

Oh my god, I almost kissed Shawn. We almost kissed and we would’ve kissed if Grant hadn’t called me. Oh my god Grant. Why didn’t I think of Grant when I was with Shawn? Shawn’s my best friend, I can’t like him like that. Does he like me like that? Can you imagine if he liked me like that? 

“We’re here.” You looked over at Shawn who hadn’t uttered a single word to you the entire way here and was already proceeding to get out of the car without you. The door slammed shut and you winced, not understanding why he was so angry about what happened. Did he really want to kiss you that bad? Your heart couldn’t help but beat faster at the thought of him wanting to kiss you, but you willed it away, instead choosing to clamer out of the car after Shawn and attempt to focus your thoughts on Grant who was without a doubt waiting behind that door for you. 

“Shawn, wait up!” you called out as you ran after him, almost catching up to him as he reached the top of the steps before your heel got caught on the step and sent you tumbling forward. The second a squeal left your lips, Shawn’s arms were already around you, effectively saving you from a face plant on the concrete. You looked at him breathlessly, trying to compose yourself after what felt like a near death experience, “Thank you.”

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern evident in his eyes. Even when he was combating his emotions he still cared so deeply about you.

“Yeah I’m fine. I wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for you though…”

“Y/n, there you are!” Grant opened the door, with a wide grin on his face, but upon noticing the position you and Shawn were in, his brows furrowed, “Are you two ok?”

“What?” you looked between the two of you, “Oh, we’re perfect. Just took a little tumble up the stairs is all.” Shawn pulled you up with an arm around your waist until you were stable on your feet before immediately retracting as though you were made of fire. 

“Thanks for saving her man,” Grant told him, clapping his shoulder as he snaked an arm around your waist, “Jessica’s been asking about you in there by the way. Told her you’d find her when you got here.”

“Right, thanks.” Shawn awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck before excusing himself to push past the two of you into the house.

Grant leaned in closer to you as you both watched Shawn leave, “Is he alright?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t worry about him,” you reassured him, “Why don’t we get something to drink?”

“Sounds perfect.” Grant took your hand softly into his, leaving a light kiss to your cheek and leading you into the noisy house.

____________________

It had been hours since you arrived at the loud, people filled house. You had barely seen Shawn the whole night; you thought you might have seen him and Jessica making out in a corner at one point, but the multi-color lights in the house didn’t exactly make picking people out of the crowd as easy as it usually was. You had spent the entire night with Grant attached to your hip, whether it was while you were getting a drink, talking to friends, or dancing, he was always right by your side. His hands were currently on your hips, chest pressed to your back and peppering gentle kisses to your exposed neck as you swayed in rhythm to the beat of the song blaring through the speakers. The two of you hadn’t kissed yet, but with the way the drinks were affecting you, you doubt that statement would stay true for long. You were nursing your almost empty drink, the description of the contents long forgotten, all you knew was that your body had a nice tingly sensation running through it and your head was feeling just foggy enough that you knew exactly what you were doing, but you were willing to make some decisions you definitely wouldn’t make sober. Grant pressed a longer kiss to the back of your ear before whispering into it, “Stay here. I’m just going to run to the bathroom.” 

You nodded your head in his direction, taking the time to look around at the people around you. After waiting a few minutes for his return, you became bored and took it upon yourself to get yourself a new drink. You had been here enough that even drunk you knew your way to the kitchen so you easily maneuvered through the clusters of couples until you pushed open one of the entrances to the kitchen. No matter how much you desperately wished you couldn’t recognize the brown haired boy that was in there with you, there was no amount of alcohol that could make you forget his defining features. At the sound of the door closing, his head perked up to look at you and you became painfully aware of how the two of you were the only ones in there as you stared into his honey colored eyes. “Hey,” you breathed out, stepping closer until you were practically shoulder to shoulder with him. 

“Hey,” he bumped your shoulder with his, “Long time no see.”

The loopy smile he gave you told you that he was also feeling the alcohol, but probably only as much as you; the man knew how to hold his drinks. “Whatcha doing in here?”

“Told Jessica I’d get the both of us something more to drink,” he motioned to the two cups in front of him, “What about you? Where’s Grant?”

“Bathroom,” you replied, leaning back onto the counter, “I got bored waiting for him out there.” 

You lifted up Shawn’s hand that was resting next to you and began tracing the pattern on his fingertips. “What are you doing, love?” he laughed, the pet name slipping out as they usually did when he had some alcohol in his system.

“Playing with your hand.” You locked hands with him while he moved in front of you to make it all the more easier for you to continue your task. His large body trapped you against the counter, but you hardly noticed until his breath fanning over your face tore your attention away from his hand. “You’re very handsome you know,” you smiled, releasing his hand to run your finger over the light scar on his face, “So pretty.”

He let out a breathy laugh as he moved his now free hand to the counter to fully lock you in between his body, “That’s funny coming from someone who looks like those goddesses we used to learn about in school.”

“I don’t look like a goddess…” your voice trailed off, too occupied with outlining the features of his face.

“Yeah you do. Look like the prettiest one...what was her name again?” He smirked down at you, knowing Greek mythology used to be one of your favorite topics in school.

“Aphrodite?”

“Mhm, that’s the one. Swear you’re a real life Aphrodite.” He moved in closer to you, brown eyes boring into you and forcing your gaze back into them. He heard your breath catch in your throat as his nose touched yours, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing...you’re just close is all.”

“I am close,” he whispered, biting his lip when he felt the hand you had on his jaw move to his neck. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“What would you do if I kiss you right now?”

Your wide eyes batted up at him innocently from where he was towering over you, your heart absolutely racing, “I’d kiss you back.” 

And with that his lips connected to yours feverishly, his body pressing to yours harder. His lips were soft and you could taste the alcohol from whatever drink he had been sipping on before that made him intoxicating. He licked tentatively over your bottom lip, practically groaning into your mouth when you immediately opened up for him. You tasted so sweet to him, so sweet that he swore he could easily become addicted to your taste. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, eliciting a soft moan from you that made his grip on the counter tighten and his hips push against yours harder. You could feel a bulge pressing against your lower stomach and you couldn’t help letting out another moan that Shawn eagerly swallowed into a kiss. Pulling him closer to you by his hair, he took that as a sign to thread his right hand through the base of your hair, the other hand reaching down to harshly pull your leg around his hip. Your hips bucked against his as his tongue fought yours for dominance that you easily gave him. 

Just as his hand was about to run up your thigh, the door to the kitchen burst open and Shawn swiftly moved completely away from you and back in front of the drinks he had originally come in for. You almost whined at the sudden lack of content, but the look of shock on the stranger’s face shut you up. It only took one look at your wide eyes and swollen lips and the sudden wrinkles in Shawn’s shirt for them to hastily exit the room with an apology spilling from their lips. 

The second they were gone you made your way back to Shawn, who was breathing heavily as he stared at the counter. You placed your hand on his chin, bringing his face back to you. Using your thumb to swipe at a rogue smudge of lipstick that had transferred onto him, you looked at him carefully, swallowing thickly when he placed a gentle kiss to the pad of your finger. You looked him in the eyes for the first time since your heated moment and while you could only see what you believed to be lust in his eyes, he saw yours change from lust to fear and to what finally made his heart drop: regret. “Oh my god,” you breathed out, successfully dodging Shawn’s attempt to grab your arm.

“Y/n wait!”

“I’m sorry, Shawn.”

“Please!” was the last thing you heard before you shut the door to the kitchen and rushed through the crowd of people. Your breathing was becoming erratic the deeper into your thoughts you got until you felt you were on the verge of a panic attack with no one to save you.

“There you are,” Grant sighed relieved, causing you to jump when his hand wrapped around your arm, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” 

“Sorry, I was bumped around in the crowd and got lost trying to find you again,” you lied, trying to avoid his eyes.

“That’s alright, I’m just glad you’re here,” he smiled at you, his brows furrowing while his hand came up to your lips, “Hold on your lipstick is a little smudged.”

Your eyes grew ten times wider, “Um, I think I must have just messed it up while I was drinking or something.”

“Ok, do you want to go dance again?”

“Yeah, uh, that sounds great…” your eyes met a frantic Shawn’s as he searched for you in the crowd, “You know what, I actually think I’m going to go home.”

“What?” Grant asked, confused as he followed you through the people.

“I just don’t feel good all of a sudden, it has nothing to do with you I swear. You’re amazing, I just need to go.” 

“Stay here overnight, don’t go home.”

“Grant, I don’t feel well.”

“I know, I don’t want that. I mean you’re gorgeous and everything, but if you’re not feeling well then obviously not. It’s just, I’m not in the right mindset to drive, it’s frigid out there, and a drunk girl all alone in an uber sounds like a horrible idea. So why don’t you just stay? I’ll sleep on the floor so you can sleep in my bed.”

“I don’t know…”

“Please, I just want you to be safe.” 

Your eyes lingered over to wear Shawn was still watching you, this time with Jessica in front of him, obviously trying to get his attention onto her. “You know what...sure. I’ll stay.”

A bright smile formed on Grant’s face, “Perfect, let’s get you all settled then.” He grabbed your hand and led you up the stairs toward his room, Shawn’s eyes following you with a heavy heart.

____________________

The next morning you bumped into Shawn in the hallway as you were exiting Grant’s room wearing his clothes he had let you borrow to sleep in for the night. Neither of you said a word as you silently made your way past him and down the stairs towards Grant’s car while Grant came strolling out of his room with his classic smile on his face, having no clue how heart broken Shawn felt when he gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

____________________

It had been a week since you last spoke to Shawn. Not a single message or interaction between the two of you. You didn’t know what you would say if you even had approached him, but you hadn’t gotten the chance to find out. Having to pack up your dorm for the semester gave you an excuse for not talking and a way to busy yourself to get your mind off of him. But no matter what you did Shawn Mendes was still hanging in the back of your mind, taunting you with replays of different moments with him over and over again. You were lucky that this time you hadn’t been planning on driving back home with him so you didn’t have to face him on the hours long drive back, though you knew that didn’t mean you wouldn’t be seeing him at some point upon your arrival. All these thoughts were swimming through your head as you pulled into your parent’s driveway, immediately being met with a swarm of greetings from your family. You seemed to have arrived before Shawn, which you felt incredibly fortunate for as you were ushered into the house. 

You didn’t see Shawn the whole first week you were there either, no matter how much your heart ached for him. You found yourself more often than not wondering what he was doing just next door and if he was thinking about you too or if you had already become something unattainable and therefore not worth his time. Even though you knew he wasn’t that type of person, the little devil on your shoulder kept telling you that he wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

Christmas Eve you were tucked into your bed, soft breaths coming from your mouth. The snow was coming down in light, fluffy flakes, just enough that it was the pretty white Christmas you always loved without the terrible snow storm you couldn’t stand. The first knock on your window sounded like the wind, but the second one was unmistakable, abruptly pulling you from your sleep and to the window. A gasp escaped your lips when you saw Shawn’s face staring back at you and you hurried to open your window for him. “Thank god,” he chuckled, “It’s freezing out there.” Shawn had been climbing up the side of your house to reach your room since you were young, so it truly should have been no surprise to you that he was scaling it in the snow.

“What do you want, Shawn?” you sighed, already making your way back into bed as he followed you, “It’s two in the morning.”

“That it is,” he agreed, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” you turned to face him, eyes only opening slightly in your sleepy haze.

He brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face, “You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this.”

You shrugged his hand away, “Shut up.”

“It’s true,” he whispered with his hand still lingering on your face, “My little Aphrodite.”

Your eyes shot wide open, your senses suddenly wide awake, “What’d you just call me?”

“My little Aphrodite.”

You sat up next to him. “Ok, Shawn, what do you want? Why did you come here in the middle of the night on Christmas nonetheless?”

“Can’t I just say hello to my best friend?”

“You haven’t said hello to your best friend in two weeks so that’s not a good excuse.”

“Don’t say that like you haven’t been avoiding me either,” he chuckled darkly.

“I couldn’t face you, Shawn!” you choked out, eyes beginning to well up with tears as you scooted away from him, “I couldn’t, not after....not after that night.”

There was a heavy silence for a moment before Shawn spoke harshly, “Why’d you hook up with Grant that night?”

“What?”

“Why’d you hook up with Grant?”

“I didn’t hook up with Grant,” you spat out, “Why would you even think that?”

“You really expect me to believe that after I saw you not only go upstairs with him, but also leave his room the next morning wearing his clothes!”

“I do expect you to believe it because nothing happened! I wanted to leave after what happened because I didn’t want to be in the same room as you anymore and he offered me a place to stay since it was cold and I was drunk. Nothing. Happened.”

“You didn’t want to be in the same room as me? Wow.” He shook his head, leaning back against your headboard on the other side of the bed, “One second I have your leg around me, moaning in my mouth, and the next you’re leaving me without an explanation and now you’re going to tell me you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me?!”

“You don’t understand…”

“What don’t I understand?!”

“I couldn’t be in the same room with you after I realized something…”

“What did you realize, huh? What was so groundbreaking that you couldn’t even stand to see me?”

“That I was freaking in love with you!” Your mouth hung open. You had mulled over the thought of loving Shawn in the weeks you were apart, but you dismissed it every time, not believing you could have allowed yourself to fall in love with your best friend. Shawn stared at you with bated breath, his silence slowly killing you from the inside. 

Just as you were about to hide under your blanket in embarrassment, you felt something warm covering your mouth and a hand in your hair, his lips moving softly on yours. You sighed into his mouth, wrapping your arms around him eagerly to let him push you back onto your bed. He hovered on top of you, holding you close to him as he kissed you with every ounce of passion inside of him, stealing your breath away completely. His kisses were gentle, but still heavy with emotion. He parted from you to let you both catch your breaths, placing light kisses to your cheeks. “I am so in love with you, Y/n. You have no idea.” 

He left one last searing kiss on your lips before pulling away and leaning off the bed to retrieve a small wrapped box. “I got you something for Christmas.” 

You gingerly took the small box in your hand, carefully pulling off the paper to reveal a small black box. You looked up at him with curious eyes, but he only nodded his head for you to continue, placing a gentle hand on your thigh. Opening the box, a beautiful silver dove charm was revealed to you on a necklace, the light of your room catching off of it making it shine. “Shawn…” you breathed out, “it’s gorgeous.”

“It’s a dove. You know, the symbol of Aphrodite,” he smiled at you nervously, “Do you like it?”

“Of course, I love it. Put it on for me?”

Shawn pulled your back into his chest and brushed your hair out of the way to place the delicate necklace around you. Once the necklace was clasped, he left the softest of kisses to your shoulder. “There you go. Perfect for my little Aphrodite.”

[yikesharringrove]

@kumathecatalyst made my brain go bbbbbrbrrrrrrrrr

-

Billy let his head fall back, resting against the side of the house.

He had lost track of time in his drunken haze, and was an hour past curfew.

No way his dad would let him in.

He thought about finding some girl, convince her into letting him drive her home, into letting him stay the night.

In whatever capacity that means. Rumors will only help him here, help him blend in.

He gave himself until the end of his cigarette. Then he would head inside are start sniffing at chicks.

He knew that Vicki girl was watching him earlier, and he’s pretty sure Tina is the one throwing the party. Maybe he can sweet talk his way into her bedroom. It’s beat having to go anywhere.

He stared at the dwindling cigarette.

It was cold out, but Billy was still drunk enough that it felt nice. It was too hot inside, everyone tugging at him, pushing him around, trying to cling onto him.

He took a deep breath, was about to stub out the dying cig against the side of the house when he heard humming.

A tune that nearly made his heart stop.

Harrington came around the corner, stumbling, and very drunk, holding a red cup with one hand, his stupid sunglasses with the other.

He stopped for a second, looking down at his feet, taking a shaking breath.

“It’s a beautiful day in this neighborhood, a beautiful day for a neighbor, would you be mine?” He laughed bitterly, pouring out his drink. He watched the spiked punch splatter in the grass at his feet. His eyes tracked up, landing on Billy as he clumsily sang, “could you be mine?”

“Mr. Rogers, huh?” Harrington just stared. “I like that show.”

“It’s good.” Steve was slurring, just a touch. “Mr. Rogers wants to be my friend. He says so. Every episode.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the idea of the neighborhood.” 

“Wish I had a neighborhood.” Harrington threw his empty cup into the bushes.

“You do.”

“No, like, a Mr. Rogers kinda neighborhood. Where everyone was nice, and, and people liked me, and I had friends. Mr. Rogers is my only friend and he’s not even real.”

“He’s real.” Harrington huffed dramatically at Billy.

“But he lives in the t.v. He’s not here. He’s not real in my life. Or I’m not real in his.” He furrowed his brows, looked like he was getting confused.

It was cute.

And Billy suddenly realized he didn’t know Harrington’s first name.

That Tom kid just kept referring to him as Harrington.

“I’m Billy.”

“I know.” Billy rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but I don’t know your name, Dumbass.” Harrington’s eyes went hollow. It was fucking creepy.

“It’s Steve. But Dumbass works too I guess.” Billy made a mental note never to call him dumbass again.

“Well, you know. Now that we know each other, we can be neighbors.” Steve’s face lit up slowly, like the words were sinking in one by one.

And then he threw himself at Billy, hugging him tightly around the middle.

And Billy realized, horrified, that Steve was sobbing into his neck.

Billy reached up, patting his back.

“Why don’t I take you home, Steve?” That was somehow the wrong thing to say, as Steve just started crying harder.

“No one takes care of me.”

“Whoa, who said anything about take care of? I was just gonna drop you off. Let your mom do all the heavy lifting.”

And then Steve’s legs seemed to give out under him.

“Mom’s not home. Never home.” A chill spread through Billy’s whole body.

“Is she, did she pass?”

“No. She just chooses not to be around me,” Steve wailed. Billy was very much in over his head.

But he may have found a place to sleep tonight.

And if Steve likes Mr. Rogers, he’s gotta have the channel at home.

Because that was the thing about moving to Hawkins. It meant leaving everything behind. Including, Mrs. Beverly down the street that let Billy come in and watch The Neighborhood with her.

She was old and kind, gave him cookies and turned a blind eye if he got choked up during an episode.

“Hey, Steve, just let me drive you home, okay?” Steve nodded into his neck.

Billy led him to his car parked far down the road. He didn’t want any assholes hitting it.

He had pounded some water before heading outside, and felt alright. Still a little hazy, but he’ll get them there in one piece.

Steve had calmed down some, just kinda had tears sliding down his face now, Which was better than his body wracking with harsh sobs.

He silently pointed at streets Billy was meant to turn down, and Billy, for once, drove slowly enough that it worked out.

Steve was still humming the theme song, his voice cracking every so often.

He pointed to a big house at the end of the street, and Billy pulled into the long drive way.

He glared at the huge fucking house. Steve made no move to get out of the car.

He was holding onto his seat belt, the car silent without his humming.

“Do you wanna come in?” His voice was tiny, like he already new the answer.

“Sure.” His head snapped up to look at Billy. Billy just killed the ignition and pulled himself out of the car.

He watched Steve, smile on his face, as he stumbled awkwardly out of the passenger seat, nearly falling over in the process.

Billy got one hand on his elbow as they walked to the front double doors.

“You wanna-I got Mr. Rogers on tape.” Steve was just holding his keys out for Billy.

There were only a few, one clearly a car key, so it was a matter of three different keys.

Steve seemed like he just didn’t wanna bother.

“I got a buncha episodes. We could watch one.”

“Sure, if you want.” Steve beamed at him. Billy just focused on getting the door open.

The second key worked and the heavy lock slid open.

Steve’s house was cold.

It was immaculately clean, like some kinda model home.

It looked like nobody lived in it.

Steve brought Billy through the entry hall to a door just off the kitchen leading into a basement.

This was better. The couch was worn and there was a blanket strewn on it like Steve had been curled up underneath it.

Billy realized this is probably where Steve spends most of his time in this empty house, the almost cozy television room downstairs.

There were shelves lined with tapes, all sorts of movies and neatly labeled television show recordings.

Steve had probably every episode of The Neighborhood in a section all on it’s own. Billy picked a random episode and hoped it wasn’t one guaranteed to make him cry.

He figured Steve’s breakdown was enough for one night.

Steve sang along to the theme song under his breath.

It was so damn cute.

He was slurring still, drunk and lazy, sitting low on the couch with the blanket pulled up to his chin.

It looked hand knit.

He had put some over Billy’s lap when he sat down.

The episode turned out to be fine.

For Billy that is.

It was an old one, one from about two years ago.

One about friendship.

And Steve seemed to be okay.

And then the story moved to the Neighborhood of Make-Believe.

The puppet people were on their way to a picnic at King Friday’s palace.

But Lady Aberlin was in a rush and forgot to get Daniel Tiger and bring him to the picnic.

And Daniel Tiger explained how hurt he felt, forgotten and left out by his friends. How they had fun without him and that made him feel bad.

And Steve was crying again.

“They, they just forgot Daniel-” Billy could barely make out what he was saying.

This was no pretty crying. This wasn’t a few dainty tears.

This was water covering Steve’s cheeks. This was snot and borderline hyperventilating.

And Billy has never felt more out of his depths.

“They don’t care about Daniel! They don’t love him!” Yeah, this was not about Daniel Tiger and the fucking picnic.

“Steve, of course they love Daniel. Lady Aberlin came back, and, and she apologized! Sometimes, you know, friends can just be shitty,” Billy offered. Steve wailed. There were tears dripping off his chin now.

“I wouldn’t know!”

“C’mon, man. Didn’t I say I was your friend?”

“You don’t even know me!”

“I’ve seen you fucking ugly cry three times tonight. I feel like I know you pretty well.” The episode was still playing, Mr. Rogers now explaining in that soft voice of his, that telling friends our feelings can help make us feel better. Billy pointed at the television. “Tell me your feelings! Mr. Rogers said it’ll help.”

“I, I, no one loves me. Nancy doesn’t love me, my old friends want fuckin’ nothing to do with me, and, and my parents don’t even like me, and I’m always left behind.”

“Wait, Nancy’s that girl, right? That Tom guy said you ditched him for her.”

“No. I ditched him because he was being a fucking asshole.”

“Them Steve, you kinda can’t complain that he wants nothing to do with you after you ditched him.”

“I tried to talk to him. Like, a month later. We were best friends since we were five, and it was one stupid fight, and I tried to talk it out, and he told me to go fuck myself.” Damn.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Steve had stopped crying by now, but his face was still wet. He was fucking covered in snot. Jesus Christ. “I tried. He just realized he was better off without me.”

“Or he was hurt and trying to protect his pride or some shit.” Steve deflated a bit.

“The Nancy thing is, that one’s real. She said she was just pretending. We’ve been together for a year. And I, I love her. And she’s just pretending.” Steve suddenly sat up, flipping the blanket down to let out his top half, scooting to sit against the armrest facing Billy.

The credits were rolling on the tape.

“Y’know, I offered to like, not go to college for her. I missed the early application deadline because my whole plan up until like two hours ago was to rot in this shitty fucking town for her. To settle down with her. To marry her. And she’s fucking pretending.” He finally wiped off his face. “I don’t even know what to do anymore. I fucking don’t.”

Billy didn’t either.

Well, he had a few suggestions, but you could always suck my cock, right here and now felt a little crass for the situation.

“You said early application. You’ve still got the regular deadlines.”

“I wanted to do early because Nancy had been helping me with my grades all fucking year. She helped me bring them up a lot last year and without her, man they’re gonna tank.”

“Nah. You got me now. I can give you a hand.”

Steve gave him a look, one eyebrow raised.

“What? I’m smarter than I look.”

“That’s not reassuring.” Billy reached out and slapped Steve’s arm. Steve pouted at him, rubbing the sore spot. “Owie.”

“Don’t fuckin’ say owie.”

“That hurt, Billy. What would Mr. Rogers say?”

“He’d agree you were being a pain in my ass.”

“Rude.”

Steve looked better. His eyes were a little bit brighter.

“So, Daniel Tiger. Did talking about your feelings help?”

Steve rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, just a teeny bit.

“Yeah, it did. Thanks, King Friday.”

“Oh, you better take that back! I am not King Friday.”

-

Here’s a clip from the episode they watch. It’s lowkey fucking brutal. (The clip is “Daniel Feels Forgotten” under the Daniel Striped Tiger section)

[xaphrin]

Friend, I assure you, that was not angst. I have no angst skills. None. But, here. Have some adult nonsense. Happy Smut-entine’s Day. 

- - - 

“Wasn’t that her brother’s best friend?”

“Step brother.” He snorted, surprised she was following what miniscule plot there was. It was like she had never watched one of these movies before. “I don’t think they’re related. I don’t think this is that kind of movie.” 

“Ah.”

In spite of her best efforts to remain calm, Jason could hear the hitch in Raven’s breath and he smirked behind his glass, his eyes darting over to watch her face. She couldn’t look away, from the massive, high-definition screen in front of them, and her arms folded under her chin as the jacuzzi bubbled around her shoulders. Honestly, he would have been happy watching Die Hard for the hundredth time, but Raven wanted to prove something to him. 

He took another drink of the whiskey in his hand, reaching behind him to grab the bottle. The delightful hum of a solid buzz was infiltrating his bloodstream and his head, making him feel oddly comfortable around her. He was half-tempted to start jerking off, but instead he focused on the occasional peek of Raven’s back dimples as she floated in the delightfully warm water. 

He took another gulp of whiskey and watched those dimples flirt with the waterline. “Have you ever watched a porn before?”

She turned around and blinked at him, settling herself in the water and turning away from the porn on the screen. Jason’s eyes searched her face, letting the obvious fake moans and grunts of sex echo behind them. Raven shrugged and reached for her own glass of whiskey, downing it in one gulp before motioning for Jason to fill it again. 

“I’ve walked in on Gar masturbating to Animal Planet before, if that counts.” There was a look of horror in her eyes. “In the living room.”

Jason snorted. “That sounds like you’re scarred for life.” 

She smirked at him, her eyes dark. “Probably.” There was a brief pause and she shook her head. “But for myself? No. I’ve been… interested, but there isn’t really anything that catches my attention when I look. Big Ass. Big Tits. Gay. Lesbian. Anal. Hentai. But, nothing that really sparks me. It’s all just so… fake.”

“Yeah. I guess I can see where you’re coming from.” Jason took another drink from his glass and looked up at the screen, watching as the girl knelt in front of the man on the screen and started sucking his cock. He shifted and glanced back at her. “Demi?” 

Raven flushed and shrugged again, trying to look nonchalant. “Probably. I never really thought about it before.” She swam over to where he was and sat next to him, kicking her feet out in front of her. He watched her trim legs float to the surface before she lowered them again. “I just like to know the person first. Feel something for them. Love or friendship - camaraderie even. Fucking just to fuck seems… primeval.” 

“Mm. I can respect that.” He shifted, and his eyes flicked up to the television screen. “Have you masturbated?”

She smirked and glanced over at him. “All the time. I’m particular about who I fuck, not getting off.” Raven took a deep breath and let it out slowly, glancing back at the screen. “Orgasming helps me keep my emotions in check, and by that regard, my powers. It makes things more manageable. So… I orgasm often.” She laughed, the sound easy and comfortable as she finished her drink. “I have it down to a science now, I can get myself off in five minutes and move about my day without fear of blowing anyone up - literally.” 

“Yeah?” He tried not to think about her taking a quick break, and burying her fingers inside herself. But the images were already there, and he couldn’t wipe them from his mind. He imagined her body trembling, her teeth biting her lips, and her back arching off her bed as she pleasured herself. He downed the rest of his drink and poured more whiskey in both of their glasses. “And what do you think about when you masturbate.”

Raven laughed again. “That’s private, Mr. Todd.” 

He shrugged, keeping his face calm. “It won’t go anywhere if you tell me. I keep secrets just as good as any other member of my family.” 

She went quiet, and he saw her reach up and toy with the string on her swimsuit top. Her finger twisted around the tail, curling it to the point it almost came undone. God. What he wouldn’t give to watch those strings fall, exposing her for him and him alone. She chewed on her lower lip and took another drink of whiskey before sighing. “I don’t know if you want to hear what I think about… it’s embarrassing.”

“It’s Beast Boy isn’t it?” Jason teased her easily. “You want to watch him watch Animal Planet.”

Her expression was deadpan, and she snorted. “I’d rather swallow glass.”

Raven set her glass behind her and she stood up, water dripping from her body. Her eyes were stern, her mouth set in a determined line, and without any other words, she reached behind her and unfastened her swimsuit top. Fuck. Jason ground his teeth together, and he watched with rapt attention as she moved towards him, resting her knees on either side of his hips. A moment slipped between them, and Raven leaned over his body until her lips brushed against his in an almost-kiss. He could taste whiskey still clinging to her lips, mixed with the taste of chlorine and sweat, and it made his heart pick up speed. He felt like his mind had been flying high, and now it was diving towards earth, with no intention of stopping. 

“You.”

Jason barely had time to process what she said before her lips were on his. Her kisses were unpracticed and a bit awkward, but no less passionate. She wanted this, and he wanted to give her whatever she wanted. His fingers tangled in her hair and he drew her tight against him, his tongue tracing her lower lip before slipping into the sanctuary of her mouth. She tasted like heaven - like light and darkness and whiskey and need all mixed together. Her breasts pushed against his chest, and Jason felt like he would never get enough of her. His hands trailed along her ribcage, up her spine, traced her body until he felt like he could remember the touch of her in his sleep.  

Raven pulled back, gasping as color flooded her cheeks. Jason stared at her, his hand coming up to trace her breast, teasing a nipple into a tight peak. Behind them, the porn still played, the girl on the screen now getting fucked by three different men. Jason fumbled to find the remote, turning off the TV as he looked up into Raven’s eyes. 

“How long?”

Her eyelashes fell, and she traced the edge of his autopsy scar before looking into his face again. “For years. Every time you came to see the team, every time I worked with you or your family. Every time we’ve been alone… it’s been torture. I don’t have enough words to describe my feelings for you. And you… are the only one I can bear to think about when I’m touching myself.”

Something unerringly male and possessive rose up inside him, and he reached for her swimsuit bottoms, toying with the string. “Yeah? And what do you think about, Raven?”

“Are you trying to get me to confess my fantasies to you, Jason?”

He was, and they both knew it.

Without another word, he pulled the string of the bikini bottoms, pulling them from her body and setting them with her top. His hands slid up her thighs to cup her ass, before he moved to press his thumb against her clit. She let go of a weak yelp and squirmed against him, but he didn’t move any more than that. With a slow smile, he caught one of her nipples with his mouth, his teeth scraping against her. She let go of a weak sound and one of her hands slid beneath the water to feather over his cock through his own swimsuit. He groaned and bit harder on her nipple, sucking on it before swirling the tip of his tongue over her. 

Finally, Raven collapsed over him, her hands trying to hold herself up as he continued to tease her clit with his thumb and curl his tongue over her nipple. He toyed with her until she was trembling, riding the edge of her orgasm like she was going to tip over the edge. Finally, he released her nipple and looked back into her face. “Show me.”

She blinked and looked down at him, trying to understand what he meant. “What?”

“Show me how you come.” His fingers trailed up her back, dripping warm water down her spine. “You said it takes you five minutes, right? So… show me how you come.” 

“Right now?” Her voice was breathy and gasping, and she let one hand slip beneath the surface of the water. “It’s going to take far less that that.”

Jason reached behind him and shut off the jets to the tub, leaving them both in clear water. He stared down into the water, and watched her hand slip between her thighs. She started slow circles over her clit, trying to get the right motion, before her pace picked up. Ah. So, that’s what made her come so fast. Just her clit. Is that what she liked? Just her clit toyed with? He made a mental note for later. His tongue came out to wet his lips, and he lifted a hand to her breast again, teasing her nipple. 

Raven’s eyes closed and she nodded, her words stuttering as she played with herself. “Just like that.” 

Jason glanced up into her face and he smirked. Any second now she was going to come, and he got to watch the show. He twisted her nipple hard, leaning down to bite it for just a moment. “Say my name.” He lapped at her breast and pulled back to watch her hand move. “When you come, say my name.” 

Her hand was moving faster now, desperate for release, and she responded to him through clenched teeth. “I always do.” 

Jason waited for an explosion behind her eyes, but her orgasm was… restrained. Like she was keeping too much of herself locked up. She stiffened, her head fell back against her shoulders, and she let out a soft, strained cry, his name spilling from her lips. Her fingers worked herself for a few moments longer before she sagged against him, swallowing air. The tension in her shoulders eased and she looked content and satiated, but it didn’t seem like it was enough. He didn’t want her satiated, he wanted her strung out. He wanted her to look like she had broken into a million pieces and would never find a way to put herself back together again. He wanted to see her begging for more pleasure.

Raven flushed and she looked down at him, pushing at her hair. Embarrassment lined her face and she glanced away, searching for words. “Look, I-”

She cut off whatever she was going to say as Jason got out of the hot tub. He stalked to the towel cart and grabbed two towels, wrapping one around his waist and handing another to her. She wrapped it around herself and stepped out of the hot tub. Jason bent down and grabbed her suit and the whiskey, motioning her to follow. 

“That looked like a nice orgasm.”

“Ah… it was?” Confusion filed her voice. 

“Yeah?” He stopped at the door to the rest of the house, turning around to face her. “I want to give you a great one.”

Heat filled her face and she shifted. “Like now?”

“Mm. Like now.” He leaned over her, forcing her to take a half-step back. “And… I’d rather not get interrupted if someone decides to come home early.” 

She shivered. “Jason, you don’t have to.”

“I know. But I want to.” He turned back around, opening the door and motioning her back inside the house. He grabbed her arm and led her up a flight of stairs. “I want to watch you panting and writhing beneath me. I want to eat you out until I’m full of you. I want to take you in every position I can possibly think of. I want you begging me to stop because you just don’t think you can take another orgasm.” He paused on the landing to turn to her, crowding her space. “And I want you more than just satiated. I want you completely and utterly destroyed. So thoroughly fucked you can’t move for days.”

Her eyes were wide as she stared up at him and for a long moment, he wondered if maybe he came on too strong. Maybe she wasn’t ready for this yet, and he had overstepped boundaries he shouldn’t have. He opened his mouth, searching for an apology that he just couldn’t quite find. 

Raven walked past him, letting the towel slip from around her body. Jason stood there in complete shock and watched her gorgeous ass step up the stairs. Finally she turned and looked at him, every inch of her naked skin on display for him and him alone. “We’ll have to think of an excuse as to why I’m sleeping in your room.” 

Jason grinned and followed her up the stairs. 

[sokkascroptop]

More Than Friends (sokka x f!reader)

A/N: Here's a lovely little one-shot written for Nina's (@fromthewatertribe) 1K challenge!! This is technically a modern! AU with a female reader but if one was to think that this Y/N is the same Y/N from Traitor I wouldn't stop you ;)

Years ago… not literally since this blog is like 3 months old, but Like Way Back When I Started writing Traitor, someone mentioned a Modern AU… and I wrote like, a full outline for it… fully not expecting to do anything with it. Well, today is the day. Here you have it, Sokka x Y/N modern au, but like only just a stitch of it since I might want to go somewhere with this eventually. I am purposefully leaving out the explicit content that I wrote for ✨reasons✨

When you come home from work and you notice your front door is unlocked and you know for a fact that you locked it before leaving for work, a normal person’s first thought would be to call the police. Y/N was not a normal person.

She turned the doorknob to her and Katara’s apartment as quietly as she could. As she stepped inside she peered around the living room. No one. Without looking away she felt along the wall for the softball bat she kept propped just inside the door. 

“It’s for protection, Katara!” She would always say whenever Katara opened the door a bit too far and sent the bat sliding down the wall to clang against the hardwoods. Katara hated that bat. Y/N, in the moment, loved it. 

Y/N slowly started creeping towards the hallway that led to her bedroom and bathroom, but a sudden noise from the kitchen startled her. She backtracked and stood just outside the doorway, the bat hefted in the air, ready to roll heads in a moment’s notice. 

She jumped when she heard another noise, like metal scraping on metal, followed by someone singing quietly under their breath. What kind of robber does that?!

“Whoever is in there, I have a bat and I’m not afraid to use it!” Y/N yelled. 

She heard a laugh and then a head peeked around the corner. Sokka smiled at her defensive stance. “Still thinking about using it?”

Y/N let out a heavy sigh of relief and dropped her arms, letting the top of the bat hit the floor. She could feel the pounding of her heart slow. “Why do you do this to me?” 

Sokka frowned and held up a spatula. “I am literally making you food. Don’t be snotty.”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she rushed forward. “What are you making me? I don’t smell anything.” She stood on her tiptoes to look over Sokka’s shoulder.

Sokka placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed her back down to flat-feet. “I just started. Patience. Go shower or something and I’ll be done when you get back.” He turned her around and gave her a gentle push out of the kitchen.

“What would I do without you?” Y/N asked over her shoulder. 

She was met with a very exasperated groan. “Well apparently, neither you or Katara would ever eat. There was nothing in your fridge!”

Y/N hid a giggle behind her hand as she walked to the bathroom. It was true, she and Katara lived on take-out most of the time.

---

Y/N did what Sokka told her to and took her time in the shower, letting the warm water relax her tense muscles. Between classes and work, she barely had any time to do anything; cooking and showers longer than five minutes included. 

The food was even better than she had hoped; she tried to remember the last time she had a meal that wasn’t from a box or off a take-out menu. 

“It was alright,” Y/N shrugged as she licked the edge of her spoon and set her empty bowl on the center table. She leaned back on the couch and wrapped her blanket tighter around her shoulders. 

Sokka scoffed. “I can tell since you practically licked the bowl clean.”

Y/N leaned forward and grabbed the tv remote. “Shut it,” she murmured with a smile. “You could have eaten some too you know.”

“Nah, I put the leftovers in the fridge for you and Katara tomorrow. I can’t be here cooking every night.”

“Why not? I’d like that.”

Sokka rolled his eyes. “Of course you would, you’re obsessed with me.”

Y/N scoffed. “You were the one who let himself into my apartment to make me dinner. Sounds like you’re obsessed with me! Do I need to revoke your key?”

“That’s it. I’m taking the leftovers and leaving.” Sokka made to stand but Y/N wrapped her hands around his bicep. 

“Can you stay for a bit? I wanna watch something scary and I can’t do that by myself.” 

Sokka snuggled in next to her under the blanket. “Sure thing.” 

---

It was about halfway through the movie when the exhaustion of the day hit her. Y/N slid down further on the couch and rested her cheek against Sokka’s shoulder.

“You’re not going to fall asleep on me, are you?” Sokka murmured, just louder than the tv. 

“I’m just preparing to hide my face is all.” 

At that, Sokka lifted his arm and she slid under it and pressed her cheek against his chest. She was warm and content and she definitely could have fallen asleep had the music of the movie not begun to change. It was something faster-paced and anxiety inducing. 

Much like she anticipated, the next scene made her gasp in fear and jump half-way into Sokka’s lap. 

Sokka chuckled. “Are you okay?” His hands settled on her hips, holding her close. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Yeah, of course. I’m not even scared.”

“Do we need to get your bat? For protection from the clown on the television?” Sokka’s hands didn’t move from her, in fact Y/N was sure they tightened when she began to move away. So she stopped.

Y/N felt a little breathless. Probably just from the scary movie. 

“Maybe. You think it’ll help?” There was a stillness in the air between them and Y/N realized how close they had gotten in the moment. 

“Yeah, I think you can take him,” Sokka whispered. His words were meant to be banter but it didn’t feel like it anymore, not with the way Sokka was looking at her with eyes that were so dark they looked like the night sky. 

Y/N leaned in first. She was drawn towards him like a magnet. She had lost all self control and for the first time Y/N just wanted to know what he tasted like.

The second their lips connected, Y/N waited for Sokka to move away. To detach himself from her and push the blanket away and make some excuse about how he had to be up early and let himself out. So she was all the more pleased when he didn’t.

The kiss was slow and chaste and hesitant as if both of them were waiting for the other’s revulsion. But it never came. 

One second, Y/N was high in the clouds and the next she was standing and pacing in the middle of the living room, the movie in the background long forgotten.

“Oh my spirits, Sokka!”

“What? It wasn’t bad, was it?” The smirk on his face was clear. This was not a one-sided thing. 

Y/N’s thoughts swirled in her head. Was she missing something? Because unless she was hallucinating, Sokka definitely just kissed her back and then acted like it was normal for two best friends to do that.

It didn’t matter what she was thinking, her mouth answered for her. “Well, no but–” 

Sokka’s smile widened and Y/N blushed. 

He reached out and grabbed her hand. “That’s great, let’s do it again.”

“But you’re my best friend! And Katara!” Y/N’s head felt it was going to explode. “Katara is my best friend too!” 

She twisted her hand around, not pulling away but sliding their fingers to interlock them. She sat back down on the couch, trying to remember where she was before. Was she too close now? Too far away? She didn’t want to send the wrong message. What was the right message?

He smiled knowingly at her. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Of course I know that...”

Sokka was slowly pulling her closer to him with the grip on her hand and Y/N was completely letting him. 

This time when they kissed, she could feel him smiling against her lips. Not that Y/N wasn’t doing the same thing. Sokka! Her brain screamed. She was actually kissing Sokka and she liked it!

Y/N pulled away and let out a little giggle. She didn’t even have time to ask him what they were doing when Sokka pulled her back in for another kiss. 

“Stop moving away from me,” He murmured. His thumb traced her jawline and the other hand was on her thigh.Y/N’s heart raced as she began to wonder how far this was going to go.

All thoughts were quickly dashed as Y/N parted her lips and Sokka slipped his tongue inside. She grabbed his wrists and pushed his hands off of her. 

Sokka jerked away suddenly, his face a mask of horror, clearly concerned that somewhere he had crossed the line. However, Y/N was thinking the opposite. Maybe he hadn’t quite gone far enough. 

She climbed over his legs to straddle him and pressed his hands into the back of the couch. Sokka’s eyes widened and Y/N gave a little shrug before she kissed the corner of his mouth. She trailed down his jawline and neck, placing soft kisses along the way. She stopped at his collarbone, leaving a love bite that made Sokka groan. 

Y/N let go his hands to take out his ponytail because she just wanted to run her fingers through his hair like she knew he liked. Sokka took that opportunity to grab her waist and pull her closer, as if they weren’t already flush against each other.

They were kissing again, hard, as if this was the only thing left in the world. Sokka’s teeth clacked painfully against hers but it didn’t stop either of them. They just needed to be closer. Just them. Together. Sokka’s hands roamed over her body, never stopping in once place for too long, like he was trying to make up for lost time that he wasn’t able to touch her in this way.

Y/N broke away even though every muscle in her body told her not to and sat back on Sokka’s thighs. Sokka swiped a thumb over her bottom lip and Y/N grinned.

She shook her head in disbelief as she tried to wrap her mind around the last few minutes. Her fingers traced over his cheekbones and jaw as she tried to memorize this feeling of pleasure and excitement in one. She needed to remember the look in Sokka’s eyes in case this never happened again.

“How did we get here?” She asked softly. 

“I think it was a long time coming.” Sokka mirrored the smile on her face.

“Yeah?” 

“We’re more than friends and you know it. Always have been.”

“Well, I wish you would have said something sooner,” Y/N pouted. “We could have been doing this a long time ago.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Never Too Late 2

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (later in series)

This is dark!Steve Rogers and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re turning forty and life seems to be forging ahead on its one way track, that is until you meet Steve Rogers.

Note: Things are... going. But I’m doing my best.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

It was about time you started doing something. Past due, you’d say. Your body was screaming for it. You were no longer the college grad who could sit and eat potato chips to her heart’s desire. Or the thirtysomething in denial of the looming 4-0. No you had stepped upon the threshold and you felt and saw the changes which came with another decade.

And yet, the simple act was daunting. Your old beat up sneakers squeaked as you descended the stairs of your building to the street. You wore a pair of thin track pants you’d bought years ago on the unspent whim of a New Years’ resolution. Your sports bra was new and uncomfortable; the tank top a bit too tight for your liking. 

You did your best to stretch outside. You kicked your foot up against the brick and lunged a few times forward and back. Your muscles were stiff from inactivity; from years of neglect; from time. You hopped in place as worked up to your departure. 

You began at a slow jog. You reached the first corner out of breath.

You were old. Accept it.

You continued and wove your way to the park where few others paced themselves around the fountain and winding paths where happy owners walked their happier pets. Another breather as you gasped. The sweat gathered under the cotton shirt and created a humid tent in the pants. 

You gripped your hips and stared ahead. Keep going. You pushed off your heels and bent your arms as you fought your way through the tension in your chest, the burn in your lungs, the ache in your knees. One day at a time, it would get easier. You hoped.

You wondered how you’d manage to fit in your new regime on workdays. A morning run would mean even earlier days; likely shorter nights. You’d have to make it work. You didn’t have another ten years to wait around; if you did, it might be too late to change.

You were tired. Of the years passing like second. Of the tedium. Of nothing happening. Of failed hopes. Of pointless relationships and temporary stability. You weren’t where you wanted to be and you’d likely never get there but there were other desires in life. Other achievements to be made.

Your mother could resent you for your singleness; your lack of familial bliss. She could not begrudge you entirely. Not if you bettered yourself. Not if you turned it around and tried. Not if you set aside your passivity for proaction. Because it was your life, not hers.

When you got back to your building, you were ready to collapse. The old elevator was still out of order. It’s old grated doors marked with an X of tape and a handwritten sign. You dragged yourself up the stairs and stumbled inside. You downed a glass of water and splayed over your single armchair. Your heart slowed as you flipped on the television and checked off day one in your newly downloaded app.

👟

Day two. Exhausted and still sore, you made yourself go. You had an hour before you had to be back to shower and ready for work. The day seemed even longer ahead of you. Eight hours at a desk in pain, dealing with the frustrated public. It was worse than you could imagine. Your night was spent with an ice pack and half-dazed.

Day three, four, five. A tic in your phone which barely felt worth it. Six almost saw you giving up as you ambled around work with splints in your calves. Seven, another day off, but you still had work to do. You pulled on your freshly washed track pants and a loose tee. The last days of summer approached but the heat had yet to relent. 

You took your usual route to the park. You stopped at the entrance and stretched a second time. You found it was helping. The pain was duller, the aches less spread out. You set off and found your step. A week and you could already see the ounce of improvement. Well, inside more than out.

You measured your breaths as you neared the curve shrouded in trees; leaves still lush and aromatic. Soon enough, they’d darken and drop. Time was like footsteps. Each one forward took you further from where you were and yet you could feel like you were standing still or come to a startling stop that left you hurtling into the void.

Like then. Your worn treads slid over the ground as you collided with the unexpected runner coming your way. Your eyes had been above him, staring at the rounded tree tops and their sprawling branches. On the early morning hues that cast the sentinels in a placid mural.

You stumbled back, your hands reaching back to catch yourself but you never met the ground. Two thick hands caught your upper arms and steadied you. You looked up, both surprised and not by the face staring back at you. Both familiar and not. After so long in the city, the last two weeks had seen as many run-ins with Steve Rogers. More, now.

“You,” He smiled as he slowly released you, his fingers tickled your arms. 

“You.” You echoed dully. 

“Small world,” He chuckled.

“New York isn’t that small,” You said. “You must think I’m some weirdo.”

“Or maybe I’m the weirdo?” He ventured. “Didn’t peg you as a runner.”

“Wow, thanks,” You scoffed. “And I’m not. Well, wasn’t. New hobby.”

“New?” He raised a brow.

“One week,” You shrugged. “Not much and I’m sure once it’s cold, I’ll go back to my sloth,” You said. “Uh, sorry about… wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Not at all. Neither was I.” He smiled. 

“Well, I, uh…” You looked past him, “Have a lot to go.”

“Can I join you?” He asked. You squinted at his eagerness. 

“Weren’t you going…” You pointed over your shoulder.

“I just do circles,” He said. “Doesn’t really matter which direction.”

“I’m not very fast.”

“It’s not a race.”

“Alright,” You threw your hands up, just wanting to get it over with. “But if you feel like leaving me behind, don’t think it’ll bother me.”

“Come on,” He turned so he faced the same direction. “It’s always easier with company.”

You exhaled and righted yourself before you fell back into a jog. He kept pace beside you. You could smell his sweat. You tried to keep your breathing quiet.

“I used to run with my pal Sam but… he joined a gym.” He said. “So, new hobby?”

“Hobby is putting it… nicely,” You huffed. “More like trying to make up for my own laziness.”

“It’s never too late to make a change,” He preened. “You got any other hobbies? Maybe something you enjoy more?”

You glanced at him. Your chest hurt but you didn’t want to slow down.

“Cross-stitching? Tetris?” You offered. “Nothing special. Just… life.”

“How’s work?” He asked.

You were silent as you kept running. You listened to the sound of your foot falls as your breath came faster.

“I--” You came to a stop and turned to him as you touched your side. “Forgive me for being a bit--confused but--” You gulped. “Don’t you have friends? Super friends?”

“Co-workers,” He said and his hands went to his hips. “Oh, maybe you already have enough friends then.”

“Look, I’m forty, I work the same job I had sixteen years ago, I live in a box, and I’m falling apart,” You shook your head. “Not many people are trying to be my friend. All my friends have families; obligations.”

“Well, it sounds like we have a lot in common,” He grinned. “So we should be great friends.”

You frowned. His optimism was irksome. His refusal to be rebuffed more so.

“Friends?” You repeated darkly.

“Maybe just running buddies?” He suggested. “I do get a bit lonely out here with just the chipmunks.”

“Steve.” You uttered.

“And I think you need someone to keep you on the right path, hmm? I’ve been told I’m a great motivator. Bit of a hard ass but I’ve got a talent and I use it.”

You considered him. He was right. An app wasn’t going to keep you going forever. Already, you were tempted to drag the little icon to the bin. Already you were tempted to sleep in. Already you were succumbing to failure. 

“You sure?” You asked.

“What time do you usually run?”

“Well, weekdays, I head out at six, back home at seven, then off to work,” You explained. “Weekends I get an extra hour of sleep.”

“Alright,” He turned and set off. You followed. “I can’t promise every day. Lots of work out of town but weekends at least.”

“You really don’t--”

“Maybe if you start saying yes, you’ll find what you’ve been looking for,” He intoned. 

You grumbled and pressed your lips together. He was right. You hated that he was. Something about this man both intrigued and disturbed you. He was kind but with a hint of pushiness. You just couldn’t decide if his insistence was merely clueless or something more deliberate.

👟

Another week and the mornings were easier, though the days continued to drag. Steve met you again on Monday and Tuesday but Wednesday he was gone. You didn’t mind so much but he returned on Saturday. He waited for you at the park entrance, a wrapped box in his hand. You were curious but not nosy.

You slowed as he greeted you.

“Hey,” He smiled. “I didn’t realise until after I’d gone that I had no way to tell you I’d be away.”

“It’s fine.” You assured him. “Think I managed just fine on my own.”

“Work,” He said. “But a quick mission so I can’t complain.”

“I saw you on the news,” You looked towards the fountain that stood further inside the park. “I figured.”

“Still, I think maybe… I’d like a more direct line.” He pulled out his phone as he kept the box under his arm.

“Are you asking for my number?”

“In case anything happens,” He said. “I mean, we’re not strangers.

“Sure, but…” You wetted your dry lip with your tongue. “Okay. Um, I don’t have my phone on me but I can give you my number.”

“Great, I’ll text you.” He unlocked his cell and carefully keyed in your details as you recited them. He replaced the phone in the strap around his bicep. “There. Your very own on-call hero.”

“Right,” You nodded slowly.

“Oh, and…” He grabbed the box from beneath his elbow. “Happy belated birthday.”

“What? Uh, I can’t. You already--”

“A cake? Really. Everyone should have a cake on their birthday.” He held out the gift. “And presents too.”

You looked at the small square box. You chewed your lip and shifted your weight on your feet.

“It’s really nothing special.” He urged. “If you’re wondering, July fourth,” He pointed to himself. “So you’re in the clear.”

“Steve--”

“I already got it and… it’s not really my colour,” He shoved it closer. “Please.”

You slowly took it as you gave a quiet thank you. You carefully slipped a finger in the crease of red wrapping paper and tore it open. A dusty pink smart watch shone back at you. You blinked and looked up at him.

“The guy at the store said you sync it with your phone and it can count your steps and all that. Send you reminders.” He rubbed his neck. “I thought it would be useful. Especially when I’m away.”

You tilted your head at him then looked back to the clear plastic window of the box. It was expensive, you could tell. 

“It’s… a lot.” You said. 

“It’s a gift. It’s not about the price tag,” He shrugged. “Come on. Try it on.”

You scratched your hairline and muttered. You went over to a bench and sat as you worked at opening the box. You took out the watch and admired its round face. He offered to do it up for you and you turned your wrist over. He secured it and you held up your hand as you looked it over.

“You like it?” He asked. “They had gold but I liked the pink.”

“Nice color,” You affirmed. “I guess… I guess I can use it.” You lowered your arm and hid the watched with your other hand. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. It’s what friends do,” He stood and gathered the packaging. “You don’t need all this, do you?”

“No,” You stood. “Thanks.”

He tossed it in a bin surrounded by hedges and you neared.

“Well, should we get going?” He asked.

“Yeah. Maybe an extra lap today?” You said. “Push myself a little.”

[minithefutureawaits09]

You said, “Jump” instead I fell hard for you. (Part 2.)

Pairing: Spirk

Universe: AOS, teen-fic.

A/n: This may or may not end up a series because...because...I...dunno we’ll see. Link to part one :https://minithefutureawaits09.tumblr.com/post/650840335516336128/another-drabble-cause-why-not-pairing-spirk

Any who’s, Let’s begin.

——

Jim sat feeling awkward in the foyer of the Embassy. He’d been told by the woman at the desk that she’d sent a message and Spock would come down to retrieve him. This place was well-taken care of. From the shiny marble floors to the Vulcan script on the walls. Every detail in its place. He felt extremely underdressed.

With his plain brown jacket, black t-shirt, jeans, and worn tennis shoes. His hair he’d bothered to make look decent at least, rather than the messy unkempt style from day to day. The sofa was nice too, a simple blue color to complement the rest of the room. If he was being honest it reminded him of the Emerald City from "The Wizard of Oz," just with the way they had described it and the way this room looks. Just as he started to wonder if he’s been forgotten about a voice says his name,

“Jim?”

”Over here, Spock.”

He stands up and waves, shoving his free hand into his pocket. A smile tugged his lips upward as he eyed the other’s outfit. It was a set of robes, much more casual and comfortable looking but similar to the one that the receptionist was wearing. It was a solid black with soft grey designs over it and again, much nicer than what he was wearing. He held onto both of Spock’s arms loosely as he stood much closer. Taking in those brown orbs as they reflected the light, yet seemed to have a nervous glitz about them.

“I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten about me,”

“I apologize, though I did not forget, the elevator took longer than anticipated arriving.”

“It’s alright. How’re you this morning?” “I am functioning adequately, and yourself?”

“I’m tired, but happy to see you.” “Did you not get enough sleep last night?”

“It’s from the trip here, it was a bit farther than I thought it was.” “I see. Though, I am pleased to see you as well.” “So...”

“Shall we head back for chess?”

“Sure. Lead the way, Spock.”

Jim took hold of Spock’s arm as though he was being escorted. He could see the way he seemed a little bothered, but didn’t say anything. Was he making him uncomfortable? He didn’t seem uncomfortable last night from his touch, in fact it was the opposite. Well...It also might have to do with the receptionist who seemed keen on staring at them, it was just them at the park last night. He made uncomfortable eye contact with her a couple of times.

Once in the safety of the elevator, Jim asked quietly,

“Spock, am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all, Jim. It has just been a few years since I have been touched like that.”

“Alright. If you say so.”

It wasn’t a lie, etiquette classes had been almost 7.5 years ago. Though this was likely not what Jim was intending by his question. He knew was referring to the way Spock’s posture had stiffened which was actually a reaction he both couldn’t quite control in time and didn’t know he had. He also realized this may be an opportunity to talk to his partner about the differences in their culture.

They arrived at the door in silence, Spock put in the code, and it slid open. He followed him into the room. Wow. It looked similar to the apartment he and his mom were staying in, though arranged differently.

They were standing in a hallway-like area, on the right, were two small archways that lead to the kitchen and a dining room. On the left, there were three closed doors, he guessed one was the bathroom and had no idea what the others could be. At the end of the hall where it opened up, he guessed might be a living room and a couple of bedrooms.

Spock took his jacket, and he removed his shoes next to the Vulcan's.

“This way, ”

Jim nodded and he took hold of Spock’s hand, who warmly closed his hand around the human’s. He was lead into the open room. He smiled, he’d guessed right. The room was the living room. Decorated with a couple of black sofas, a glass coffee table, and a television on the wall. There were a couple of wide floor-to-ceiling windows on either side of the tv and they both had light grey curtains that appeared to be silk.

There was a small table that he hadn’t noticed, by one of the doors. It had two wooden chairs on either side. Spock let go of his hand and pulled out one of the chairs, gesturing for him to sit. So, he sat down and was effortlessly pushed in.

“If you will wait here, I will go retrieve the chess set.”

Jim nodded and Spock disappeared back down the hall. He heard a door open and close. He let out a sigh. He wondered if the Vulcan felt as out of place as he did at the moment. He likely didn’t the young human reasoned, and he seemed way stiffer than when they’d meet at the library. Did Spock even notice the change in his behavior or was Jim overthinking & over analyzing things that weren’t there? Was he trying to read the fine print that didn’t exist, or between the lines thinking some secret message is going to show? Maybe this wasn’t a good idea- No. He wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to hang out with his friend.

First the long and tedious walk here, then the awkward talk with the receptionist, the underdressed feeling, and now the stiff boyfriend. Could his day be going any more funky? He sighed again. The word pulled the boy up short now that he thought about it. Boyfriend. B-o-y-f-r-i-e-n-d. This was the first serious committed relationship in his life. Although his company was certainly not appriciated nor welcomed in the beginning he honestly isn’t sure what he’s going to do without it. Sure, he’s lived before without the Vulcan’s presence in his life but he’s not sure he can go back to doing so again.

The blonde was scared from his thoughts by a sniffle. He lifted his hands to his eyes to realize they were wet. Had he been crying? He doesn’t remember ever starting. He wiped the tears away with his hand, but they kept coming. He heard the door down the hall open and he started to panic. Jesus Christ, why can’t he hold it together all of a sudden?

He places his head down, face hidden by his arms as he hopes maybe his partner will think he fell asleep in the shot time from exhaustion. He’s saying a silent prayer his breathing isn’t going to be the thing to give it away. He could always blame it on a nightmare. Yeah, that’s what he’ll do. Say he fell asleep briefly after laying his head down and boom. Nightmare happened.

He heard footsteps and the faint noise of game pieces in a box coming toward his general direction and stopping closely.

“Jim?”

He opted not to respond. He’d have to come up with another excuse if he did.

He heard the box be sat down in front of him, and a gentle shake of his shoulder followed. Again no response. When the shake firmed up he moved quickly, wide-eyed and a gasp. The hand had shot back out of surprise as quickly as possible. He wiped at his eyes as a few tears continued to fall.

He glanced over at Spock and at first he saw a surprised look come across his face when he moved so suddenly before the Vulcan pulled whatever emotion he was feeling back under control.

“Jim, are you alright?“

“Y—Yeah, jus’ a Nightmare I suppose,”

God who’s cracking sad voice was that?

“Did you actually sleep adequately last night?”

“B—Best I could, I did have a few terrors last night too,”

And they were real bad, he was up for awhile after with his mom. Though why did he just admit that? He internally scolds himself. There was no reason for that.

“Come,”

Spock had taken one of his hands and was pulling him up and leading him to somewhere.

“But what about—”

“The chess game can wait,”

“But I-”

“Jim, please.”

Jim conceded the argument after that, and stood up. He felt an arm around his waist and was pulled close to the Vulcan, his free hand resting against the chest in front of him. Letting go of his hand momentarily, and with a gentle touch, the blonde felt his tears be wiped away. He looked up to meet the other’s concerned look. Though his face remained neutral for the most part, he could see the gloss of concern coating those chocolate like orbs he’s coming to adore, and the hint of a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.

He looks away feeling ashamed, this was a stupid idea; his cheeks start prickling with warmth as he feels the tears form against his will in his eyes. Spock rests his forehead against his partner’s, and the floodgates open. He tries to shove away, to pull himself together and stop making an embarrassment of himself but the firm grasp around him only tightens.

“It is alright Jim,”

A firm but gentle voice tells him. He’s acutely aware of the swaying motion that started. It’s actually what got his attention; that and the warmth surrounding his thoughts. Emotions that are not his own flowing freely. Understanding, reassurance, were the strongest followed by one he’s unsure of. Admiration? What was admirable about his ugly crying, or the half lie he told? What was so admirable about him in this state?

The warmth around his thoughts pulled a little firmer as the voice whispered,

‘Nash-veh ashaya du,’

He opened his eyes, just as the action was mirrored by his partner.

“Is that you I’m feeling?”

He heard the chuckle in his head that confirmed his question. It was. A smile broke out on his face, even if it was still pink and puffy from his tears. He felt himself be guided over to one of the sofas.

His memory has a small gap. He’s not sure exactly how they got into this potion because in all honesty he was busy mentally talking with Spock. He was listening to his explanation what the difference of what their touch last night versus now was.

It was likely Jim was too out of it to really comprehend what Spock was saying. He wasn’t reacting at all like he’d calculated precisely, or maybe he had overestimate, or— That’s when he felt the leveled out breathing. The stilled mind under his fingers, which he withdrew for a much more comfortable position leaving behind a pleasant tingling sensation. Just picking up on Jim’s surface thoughts now, surface emotions. He closed his eyes and before he knew it, he too joined the other in sleep.

[kumkaniudaku]

Meet the Parents: Four

A/N: This is the last part of this series and a late Valentine’s Day entry. Enjoy another piece of the Chad and CoCo saga. I love you guys! 

Warnings: Not Proofread

Word Count: 5212

“Our parents are coming to visit next week.”

Tasha let the sentence fall from her lips like an observation about the weather and not a random declaration in the middle of weeknight dinner. Chadwick sat beside her on the couch, eyes trained on the television before turning his head for a view of the side of her face. Even in her profile he saw embers of worry smoldering behind her eyes. Chadwick quickly chewed the last bits of black beans in his mouth to answer.

“What?”

“Our parents,” she repeated, finally looking over at him. “They’re coming to visit next week.”

“Our parents? As in just your parents or -.”

“Both sets. Yours and mine. They are going to be in this house next weekend under the impression that we haven’t talked in years when we’ve been playing house for almost two months.”

“Yeah, so,” Chadwick added, not seeing the issue. “We’re grown. Shit happens.”

“My parents think that I’m getting married next fall, Chadwick. They think I’m still with Elijah.”

Chadwick stopped chewing to cough up pieces of rice that had shot to the back of his throat in surprise. “Shit.” He paused to gather himself as Tasha leaned forward to rest her forehead in her hands. “Okay, that explains your folks. How are mine involved?”

“My mama took it upon herself to contact your mama and, I think, they’re on a mission to help us reconnect like this is some family drama or something.” Tasha kept her lead low while her fingers placed air quotes around reconnect. A split second of silence hung in the air until quiet snickering caught her attention. “I’m glad you think this is so funny.”

“It’s too ridiculous not to laugh, baby.” Chadwick fought to stifle laughter as he watched Tasha stand and stomp off toward the kitchen. He hadn’t intended to belittle her feelings, but he wasn’t sure how to process the information. “C’mon, T. I’m sorry!”

In their shared haste to explore a new chapter of their relationship, neither Tasha or Chadwick had alerted their families and friends. Sure, a few people had made assumptions, but nothing that they speculated equaled solid proof. To call the lack of information a secret was too harsh. They preferred the term oversight. But now, with a visit from their families looming, the new couple needed a plan that included cleaning up said oversight without admitting to what would surely be seen as an outright lie.

Tasha stood in the kitchen angrily scrubbing at an empty sauce pot when Chadwick walked in and leaned on the counter beside the sink. He watched with a fond smile for a moment before reaching to grab her wrists and pull her close.

“Hey, look at me,” Chadwick requested, taking Tasha’s chin between his thumb and index finger. Hip lips pressed gentle kisses on her nose and mouth until she relented and returned his affection. “We’ll be okay.”

“You say that like you have a plan.”

Chadwick smiled and pecked Tasha’s lips. “I always have a plan, baby.”

To Chadwick the solution was simple: play along with their parents and finish the long weekend without giving up more information than was necessary. If their mothers wanted to believe they’d done a good deed, let them.

Together, they spent days fine tuning their deceit. Tasha made sure to remove any trace of her existence from Chadwick’s house, scouring the home for an out of place pair of heels or a wayward piece of mail in her name. Chadwick crafted an intricate script with details so precise that CoCo had begun to believe their lie.

The night before mom-eggedon, as Tasha had named their arrival, the couple lay tangled in bed tightening their story.

“So, we’ll have to delete each other’s number for this to work. It’ll look weird if my name pops up in your contacts.”

“How would they even see? I’ll go to another room.”

“That looks suspicious. You have to make the call in front of her.”

“Okay,” Tasha agreed, sighing as she scrolled through her contacts and reluctantly removed Chadwick’s number. “What else?”

“Make sure to grab your bonnet and headscarf before you leave in the morning. Or I can stash them in my drawer. Let me know.”

“You pick. I... need a break.”

Tasha’s sudden bout of anxiety was enough to end any and all conversation that night. She has resigned to the notion that she would have to come clean the minute her parents stepped off of the arrivals sidewalk and slid into the backseat of her car. Still, she was careful to use her best poker face in the off chance that she was home free. Chadwick didn’t share her worries, but he empathized. His parents weren’t nearly as invested in his personal life. He wasn’t the one due to be married in a year’s time.

Sun beat down on Tasha through the windshield of her car while she anxiously glanced in her rearview mirror for any sight of her parents. She hadn’t slept the night before and slipped out of Chadwick’s bed early to avoid any talk of the weekend. In her mind, if she left without speaking to her boyfriend, she could easily forget their connection. She was wrong. All she could think about was ringing his line for another dose of reassurance.

Tasha’s eyes followed a parking official making stops at each car along the curb, silently praying that her parents would emerge from the building before she was handed a ticket.

“Come on, come on,” she whispered, hoping she could will them outside. Her fingernails tapped nervously on the dash until, finally, she caught a glimpse of her mother’s traveling hat moving toward the sidewalk. She bounded from the driver’s side in a single motion and waved her hands for their attention.

“Mom! Dad! Over here!”

“My baby!” Elaine was the first to greet her oldest daughter, leaving Gerald to grab her rolling luggage and haul it to the car.

Tasha smiled as her mother pulled into a hug way too tight for her tense body. “Hey, mama. You travel safe?”

“As safe as I could, child. Your daddy complained the whole time, but we’re here now.”

“Set your old man up with first class tickets next time, Pumpkin. I need some room for these knees.”

“I’m sorry, Dad. I’ll upgrade you for the flight back. Let me grab those.”

Gerald tried to wave Tasha off, but he was too slow. Tasha had already started to channel her nervous energy into overextending her hospitality. Every question was answered with an uncharacteristic amount of enthusiasm. Neither of her parents noticed as they marveled at sights and sounds of Los Angeles. They sat with their faces nearly pressed against the car windows, rattling off questions and observations about the state of the city. Complaints about the traffic earned a laugh that was too loud for the conversation and a shared look of concern between Gerald and Elaine.

“So, how is Elijah,” Elaine asked, looking at Tasha through the rearview mirror with a smile. “We haven’t heard from or about him in about a month. Is he okay?”

Tasha’s foot stuttered on the break as she pulled into her driveway, making the car jerk in response. She took a breath and rolled her shoulders back before answering.

“He’s fine, I suppose. We... aren’t together anymore.”  Tasha’s jaw clenched at the admission and shook her head. She hadn’t said the words aloud yet.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“He wasn’t good enough for you anyway, Pumpkin. His ears were too big to have nothing in between ‘em.”

Tasha chuckled as she shut off the engine and opened the driver’s side door. “Thanks, Pop.”

“I agree with your father. Now, you have more time to wait on the man that’s supposed to court you, not the other way around. You know, I know a guy.”

“Mhmm,” Tasha mumbled. “Here, let me help with that.”

Gerald stopped pulling suitcases from the trunk and kindly pushed his daughter’s hand away. “I got it, Pumpkin. Take your mama inside. She’s been dying to see your house.”

Tasha laughed at her father’s thinly veiled plea for alone time before ushering her mother into her home. Elaine stepped into the foyer and paused, taking a long look at her surroundings. Beside the door, a basketball rested by a black duffle bag.

“You’re playing basketball again,” she questioned.

“Every once in a while I play with the girls as the facility. No big deal.”

Elaine took another look at the oversized sweatshirt barely hanging out of the bag. “Hm.”

Before Tasha could address Elaine’s non-verbal judgement, her mother had moved on to the living room. Elaine stopped to examine photos and sculptures carefully placed on each surface, finding many of them to have ties back to home or family. Her fingers ghosted over awards from her daughter’s time away from home and she smiled. If Elaine was nothing else, she was proud of Tasha.

While she listened to her husband and daughter wrestle luggage into the house, Elaine carefully took a seat on the large sectional to rest her aching legs. The way she flopped against the plush piece of furniture surprised Elaine, making her giggle but stop when she got a whiff of the air around her. Beside her head lay a dark fleece blanket and she took a deep inhale to place it as a source of the masculine smell.

“This is a nice blanket, Nicole,” she complimented. “It looks warm.”

“It is. Got it on a trip back from Connecticut last year. Great naps have been taken under that thing.”

What Tasha thought as a random fun fact about her favorite blanket made her mother smirk with realization. She knew the smell of a gentleman caller when she encountered one. Though the information wasn’t enough to stop the plan she had in motion, she felt a strange comfort in knowing that Tasha was living a life that pleased her, something Elaine had drilled into her and her sister’s head since their pre-teen years.

“Dad, you want a drink. I have this expensive artisan beer that Ch... a friend left over. When they visited. A friend.”

Tasha stilled to slow her rapidly beating heart at her near mistake. Neither of her parents had seemed to notice and, for that, she was silently grateful.

“My girl is drinking beer now,” Gerald questioned with a wide smile. “Becoming just like your old man.”

“Yeah, well, I dabble. Gotta keep up with the white boys at the Lakers game.”

“Atta, girl. Beat ‘em at their own game. C’mon, show me.”

On one side of town, Tasha busied herself with introducing her parents to the wonders of pale ales and stouts, while on the other, Chadwick emptied grocery bags filled to brim with dinner ingredients. He spent much of the process silently scolding his parents for placing items in areas he knew CoCo wouldn’t enjoy. When his mother moved to place the entire jug of orange juice in the door of the refrigerator, Chadwick couldn’t resist the urge to stop her.

“Actually,” he started, intercepting her before she could place the jug. “I have some pitchers you can empty that into. They’re nice, I promise.”

His mother eyed him as he retrieved a monogrammed pitcher from the cabinet and rinsed it in the sink. The last time she’d visited, he barely had food in the refrigerator. Now, he had specialized pitchers for juice.

“Where did those come from?” Carol asked, trying to get a better look at the glassware.

“Crate and Barrel. I went with a friend a couple weeks ago and they suggested them.” Unlike Tasha, Chadwick had a solid grasp on his lines and practice keeping secrets.

“Hm. This friend suggest those vanilla candles in the living room, too?”

“Those were a gift. Want one? I have a few more in the linen closet.”

“No, I’m alright. Just... noticing some changes.”

“Like what?” Chadwick asked as he stashed breakfast meat in the refrigerator drawer.

“You live alone now. That’s new.”

Chadwick shrugged, seemingly unphased. “It’s been a couple of weeks. The split was mutual. We’re on better terms these days.”

That was an assumption on his part. Chadwick didn’t know the status of his friendship with Charmaine, but he harbored no ill will. Carol opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by her husband walking into the kitchen with a big smile.

“Hell of theater you got back there son. I bet the big game looked good on that big ‘ole screen.”

“Wanna try it out? I think the playoffs start tonight.”

“What about dinner?” Carol asked.

“We’ll eat early. It’s just us right?”

Chadwick tried to avert his gaze once his mother started to look between him and his father. He didn’t want to let on that he knew more than she had shared.

“Well, that’s what I wanted to talk about. You remember Tasha, right?”

“She was my best friend, ma,” Chadwick laughed. “Of course I remember her.”

“I know, I know. But did you know she lived here now?”

“She mentioned it when she sent a gift for the movie.”

“So, you two talk again?”

“We’ve talked once or twice.”

“Have you met up?”

“No.” Chadwick answered, keeping his voice flat to appear neutral. Carol smiled in a way that indicated she had information to share. Chadwick allowed the charade to continue.

“Well, I heard from a little birdie that her parents are also in town this weekend. Maybe you should invite them over.”

“Ma, I don’t know if we’re back on those terms yet. It’s been a while.”

“I know,” Carol answered, drawing out ‘know’ as she took steps toward Chadwick. She latched onto his arm and smiled up at her son. “But, what if she stopped by? Just for dinner?”

Chadwick looked between his parents, paying special attention to his father’s grin. He’d never known his dad to be invested in his private life, but there was always spark behind his eyes when Tasha was involved.

Finally, Chadwick pretended to relent.

“Alright, ma. I don’t have her number, though. How will I call?”

Carol clapped her hands like a giddy child and started a search for her phone. “Don’t you worry your head, boy. I have her number right here.” She extended her arm toward his face. “Go on. Call her. I wanna hear you.”

Chadwick felt his body tense and mind begin to scramble for a response. He had expected to make the call when a moment of solitude presented itself. Now, he was forced to go off script and risk throwing Tasha off balance. On a whim, he decided to grab his mother’s phone to make the call.

The phone rang once, and then a third time before Tasha answered.

“Hello?” she answered with a genuine question thick in her tone.

“Hey, Tasha. It’s me...Chadwick.”

Everyone listened as the sounds in the background became louder before CoCo responded. “Hey, Chad. I have you on speaker. My parents are here.”

“Hi, Chadwick!”

“How ya doin’, son!”

Both Tasha and Chadwick chuckled at her parents' excitement.

“I’m good. Good to hear from y’all. Welcome to LA.” Chadwick listened to Elaine and Gerald share various versions of thank you before continuing. “Hey, so, funny thing...my parents are here too.”

“Oh really? Give them my love. I know they miss me.”

“We miss you so much, sweetie! Why don’t you come eat dinner with us tonight.”

Chadwick chuckled at his mother’s excitement, “That was my line. She beat me to it, but the invite stands. We’d be happy to have y’all over.”

“We’ll be there!”

“Ma!” Tasha and her mother argued in hushed whispers on the other line, nearly making Chadwick forget that the whole conversation was a carefully planned charade. “I guess we’ll be there. You’ll send the address?”

As if she needed it. “Sure. You’ll get it from another number, okay?”

He wasn’t sure why, but Chadwick felt butterflies flutter in the pit of his belly as if this were truly the first time he was seeing the love of his life. He welcomed the feeling and smiled on the other end, making his parents join in on his happiness.

“Great. See you soon,” Tasha answered, a hint of smile in her voice to match Chadwick’s.

They hung up with promises to text for more details and inside jokes that made only them laugh. With a few white lies, they had tricked their parents, and nearly themselves, into believing they were set to embark on a glorious reunion between college friends.

Tasha spent hours rifling through what little clothing she still had at her condo, tossing outfit after outfit onto her bedroom floor until she came up with something she felt would catch her man’s eye.

Across town, Chadwick and his mother arranged and rearranged the dining table dishes to ensure that he was putting forth the best “first” impression. They settled on elegant china that Chadwick felt was a bit too formal for the occasion, but he let it stand. At the very least the flatware would impress Tasha’s parents.

As Tasha drove through Chadwick’s neighborhood, she made sure to maintain a facade of discovery. She didn’t take the normal shortcuts or skip the growing pothole on the street that tormented her each day on the way home from work. She pretended to be surprised at the ornate sculptures crafted from bushes at a nearby house and the amount of expensive cars in the driveways they passed.

“The boy is doing well for himself,” Gerald commented from the backseat.

“Very well. But, we always knew it’d be like this. Chadwick was destined to be big.”

Elaine spoke about Chadwick as if he was some utra celebrity and not the same kid that she had to constantly remind to slow down while he ate so that he wouldn’t choke on his food.

Tasha laughed as she pulled into his driveway. “He’s a movie star. It’s to be expected.”

One by one, the Greene family stepped out of the car into the crisp, early Spring air and started up the short driveway toward the door. Tasha hung back and examined the house from the outside, admiring how the two potted plants they’d placed on the porch were starting to go into one another like their namesakes.

Gerald rapped his knuckles against the door several times before Elaine scolded him for being rude as she pressed the doorbell. When Tasha caught up to her parents, the door opened and sent light from the inside spilling onto the front porch. Chadwick popped out of the house with his arms open wide.

“Family!”

He gripped Tasha’s parents into tight hugs, sharing familiar pleasantries as he welcomed them into his home. Elaine stuttered when it was her turn to embrace, taking a deep whiff of Chadwick’s shoulder and feeling transported to a moment earlier in the day. She kept quiet, but took note of his hug with Tasha as he moved on to greet the other members of the household. Elaine noticed the way he seemed to hug her like a man familiar with the curvature of his lover’s body and shared a look with Carol that spoke louder than words.

As a unit, they quickly fell back into familiar behaviors, catching each other up with life’s happenings and new discoveries. On the far end of Chadwick’s sectional, he and Tasha sat close enough to share side conversations that only they could hear.

“Just like old times,” Lawrence, Chadwick’s father, commented over his glass of water. “You two haven’t changed in over 20 years.”

“What you mean, dad? We’re just over here talking.”

“That ain’t just talking,” Gerald chimed in. “Y’all always had your little secret language.”

“And a knack for keeping each other’s secrets.”

Tasha looked over at Elaine who sat with a knowing smirk on her face that unsettled her daughter. Chadwick easily maintained his cool as he sipped from his wine glass.

“That’s how it goes when you’ve been friends this long. We are still friends, right?”

Tasha felt her cheeks become warm through her bashful smile. “Of course. Always.”

Both sets of parents looked on with fond smiles while their kids shared a moment of rekindling a little more than longtime friendship. Elaine and Carol exchanged winks to congratulate each other on a job well done.

“Well isn’t that sweet,” Carol spoke after clearing her throat. “But, I think the roast is done. Can we move this moment to the dining room?”

“Yeah, sure. Tasha, can you help mama in the kitchen? You need help right, mama?”

“I’ll take it wherever I can get it,” she laughed.

“Now, you know you don’t ever have to ask me for help. I’m right behind you.”

The group quickly dispersed to different corners of the house, leaving Tasha and Carol to explore Chadwick’s kitchen on their own. Tasha took it upon herself to reach into the drawer beside the stove and grab pot holders. Carol watched her move around the space as if she had been there a thousand times.

“Did you say you’ve visited Chad before?”

Tasha looked back as she opened the stove and shook her head. “No, ma’am. This is my first time.”

“Hm. Okay.” She continued to watch Tasha carefully slide the roast out of the oven and close the door with her hip. When Tasha turned around, Carol tried to recover a moment too late. Tasha smiled nervously.

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” Carol quickly answered. “I just...I thought...it doesn’t matter. I’ll grab another bottle of wine and meet you in the dining room.”

Carol’s pivot seemed to do the trick once Tasha carried the main dish to the dining room. Chadwick sat at the end of the table with a mixed look of boredom and relief once Tasha entered the room. He sprung up to retrieve the dish from her hands, but Tasha gripped his hands to stop him.

“Your mom is being weird,” Tasha whispered.

“Your’s too. She noticed that bottle of air freshener you always spray in here and asked where it came from.”

“What is she a fuckin’ bloodhound?”

“She is you,” Chadwick laughed. “I think I got us out of it, but be careful.”

Carol’s entrance forced the pair to separate and pretend to focus on different tasks. She eyed their charade for a moment before looking over to Elaine and their aloof husbands solely focused on dinner.

She took a seat beside Lawrence just as Tasha settled in next to Chadwick while trying to avoid eye contact.

“So, who’s going to say the blessing? Tasha?”

Tasha’s eyes grew wide, “Oh, I’m probably not the best person. You know how I am with words and this isn’t my house anyway. How about Chad?”

“Uh, sure. Everybody bow your heads.” Tasha squeezed Chadwick’s hand as a silent thanks and clamped her eyes shut to avoid the daggers he sent in her direction. Chadwick took a deep breath in search of words to fit the occasion. “Lord, thank you for bringing us together again tonight. Especially Tasha and I as long time friends. We-”

“Hope that you will use all of us to tell the truth about our love for one another. Please, don’t let this night pass without every feeling and overlooked detail put on the table. It’d be a shame for us to leave here holding on to what you put on our hearts to share.”

Amens, both genuine and forced, sounded around the table to signal the end of Elaine’s awkward prayer. The group sat in silence while scooping food onto their plates. Tasha and Chadwick attempted to remain inconspicuous.

“Chadwick, how’s Hollywood treating you,” Gerald asked between bites of food.

“Ah, you know how it goes out here. I go to work, come home and avoid all that foolishness in between. The pay is good though. I can’t lie about that.”

“You better be avoiding the foolishness. Tasha, now that you’re here, keep my boy straight.”

“Yes, sir,” Tasha laughed. “If I’m not good at anything else, I’m good at bossing him around.”

“Did Tasha tell you that she’s single now?”

“Ma! We literally just got here. When would I have had time to share that?” Tasha shot her mother a glare across the table and received a shrug in return.

“I only asked a question. Are you single Chad?”

Chadwick chuckled as he slipped his hand under the table and gripped Tasha’s thigh. “No, I didn’t know she was single and, yes, I am recently single. The last relationship didn’t workout quite the way she hoped.”

“Sounds like you two have something in common.”

“Oh you and what’s his name aren’t together?”

Tasha caught Chadwick’s obvious sarcasm and brushed his hand off her leg. He continued to laugh at her expense, leaving no room for her to unleash her frustration beyond a curt smile.

“You know his name, Aaron. And, no, we are not. That is my business to keep to myself.”

“Alright,” Chadwick answered. “Maybe I can hook you up with one of my actor friends. I hear Anthony Mackie is looking for someone your type.”

“I’ll pass. Actors aren’t my thing.”

“Hm. That’s not what I heard.”

Chadwick jokingly nudged Tasha’s shoulder, garnering a look from Elaine and Carol.

“What did you hear,” Carol asked. “Don’t the kids say something about the tea?”

“Nothing. Chadwick hasn’t heard a thing but a seminar on how to still be annoying after 20 years.”

He laughed and wiped his mouth. “I’m pretty good at it, too. You look a little flushed, though. Want more wine?”

A simple diversion pushed the conversation into talks of wine tasting and how to pair reds and whites, effectively ending all relationship talk for a stretch. Underneath the table, Tasha and Chadwick took turns letting their hands wander. The cat and mouse game quickly grew inappropriate with fingers buried between thighs and palms gripping sacred parts over thick denim fabric. Their parents enjoyed helping after helping of food until each person was stuffed and nearly falling out of their seats. Lawrence, however, wasn’t done.

“I could go for some dessert,” he mentioned during a lull in the conversation. “What we got in the kitchen?”

“Mama, you got that cheesecake I ordered, right? Tasha, wanna help me grab it.” Chadwick had been thinking about a way to briefly separate from the group to sneak a kiss or a hug and, finally, he’d found an out.

Tasha peeped the hint of demand in his voice and nodded. “For sure. You know you have butter fingers anyway. We’ll be right back.”

The pair didn’t give their parents time to reject the offer before they scurried out of the room. When they made it into the kitchen undetected, Tasha pulled Chadwick into a searing kiss. He chuckled against her lips while fondling her backside.

“Your joke was not funny,” Tasha mumbled before breaking the kiss. “Mackie? Really?”

“Gotta make it realistic, baby. You handled it like a champ.”

“Mhmm. Next time, I’m coming with jokes about your relationship.”

Chadwick allowed Tasha to slip from his grip and head to the refrigerator. He watched her hips sway for a second before reaching into the cabinet to grab dessert plates.

“Which ones do you usually use?”

“The white marble. Grab the gold forks to match the decor. You did a good setting it up by yourself.”

“Do you know how hard it was to keep my mama from moving stuff around?”

“Probably as hard as it was to keep mine out of my office. Why can’t they be like our dad’s?”

“Because then we wouldn’t love them as much,” he added. “Only a couple more days of this and then I can have you back in here with my shirts on.”

“Oh, so, we aren’t meeting up for some car sex tomorrow.”

Tasha stepped closer as Chadwick lifted a brow and watched her beneath hooded lids. “Don’t tempt me, baby.”

“Now, Aaron. You know that ain’t my style. I’ll call you. We’ll call it lunch.” Balancing the tray of cheesecake in one hand, Tasha pressed a quick kiss against Chadwick’s lips before turning to leave the kitchen.

“Who wants cheesecake,” he hollered as he followed Tasha back into the dining room with a smile.

Both sets of parents watched the couple attempt to pass out slices without bumping into each other, taking note of the clear gloss making Chadwick’s lips shine. Lawrence tried to send messages to his son to wipe his mouth but all of them went unnoticed. Elaine and Carol shared smiles while Gerald stifled a laugh.

After passing out each piece of cake, Tasha and Chadwick took their seats and found all eyes on them.

“What,” Chadwick asked as he stabbed a fork into his cheesecake.

Lawrence cleared his throat. “I think you have something you need to share, son.”

“Like what?”

“Maybe Tasha will know,” Elaine added. Tasha forced a laugh and smiled.

“I don’t even know what’s going on right now. What are you talking about?”

“How about you start with how long you and Chadwick have been seeing each other. And be honest this time, Pumpkin.”

Tasha and Chadwick froze. In the mirror above his parent’s head and noticed the evidence of their secret still on his lips. There was no sense in preserving the farce. They were caught red handed. So, he smiled and shook his head. Tasha finally relented with a hearty laugh.

“When did you know, mama?”

“Child, as soon as I smelled man on your couch and hugged this one at the door. You have to be smarter than that.”

Carol chimed in and pointed at Tasha, “And this one went in the kitchen and started pulling things out of the drawer like she owned the place.”

“You don’t think we noticed the glassware in the fridge? You drink orange juice out of the carton and now all of a sudden there’s pitchers all over the place.”

“Since when do you drink beer, Pumpkin. I knew you either had a boyfriend or you were going through a midlife crisis like your mama when she only drank martinis for a year.”

Chadwick and Tasha listen to all the places they had neglected tiny details, feeling slightly foolish that they’d tried to pull the wool over the eyes of the people that knew them best.

“Okay, you got us,” Chadwick admitted. “This was all Tasha’s idea. I wanted to tell y’all right away. It’s been almost two months of this lie she made me tell.”

“Oh, hush! I just figured we would tell you when we were ready. Well, when I was ready. I’m sorry, y’all.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Carol answered.

“This just gives us more time for planning.”

Tasha raised an eyebrow while leaning into Chadwick’s side. “Planning what?”

“The wedding of course,” Elaine exclaimed. Tasha’s groan became covered by Chadwick’s boisterous laughter.

“Lay ‘em on me, Ms. Greene. What you thinking?”

“How do feel about a rustic wedding, Ooh ooh, let me go grab my phone. Did I tell you I have a Pinterest now?”

[thetomorrowshow]

Slower Than Words Ch. 22

First  -  Previous  -  Next

Hey all! It’s good to be back! The break was much-needed, but I’ve missed interacting with y’all. Have a relatively calm chapter!

cw: food

~

Weeks passed, and Patton realized that lip-reading was harder than he thought it would be. Patton practiced every single day, studying the diagrams in the book and taking down notes on everything. Remus had at first practiced with him by saying a phrase and having Patton guess, but they had quickly realized that it was too advanced at this stage. Now, Remus held up a notecard with a phrase or word and said it. After going through five different different notecards, Remus would start over again without displaying the notecards. This helped Patton grasp it much quicker, and he had advanced to picking up several words that his therapists spoke in everyday conversation.

Sometimes, when he felt really excited, Patton would mimic the diagrams in the mirror, making the mouth movements for his own name, Remus's name, and Virgil's name. He already knew what his own name looked like, he found—he'd been unknowingly able to recognize it for years.

Patton always had the same translator at his doctor and therapy appointments, so he asked her a few questions about lip-reading and speaking. The woman was able to answer, usually, but there was rarely any time to get into a conversation. The woman did recommend some online resources and teachers for learning to speak, which Patton passed along to Remus. Patton didn't really understand the whole online thing yet. Virgil had tried to explain it several times, but it didn't make a lot of sense. Where did all of the information come from? Who put it there, ready for everyone to use? How was it usable?

Patton had learned how to use the internet in basic terms. He knew how to look for something in specific on Google, and he knew that Youtube was a thing because Remus liked showing him videos from it. Youtube had captions, unlike the television. Patton had found himself watching a lot of comedy videos, sometimes writing down the best jokes from them. He had a cheap blue notebook that he wrote the jokes and his notes in, and he kept it under his bed, like he used to do with his journal back ho—back at the cult.

Patton had researched the cult briefly on the internet, but had quickly become upset at seeing his own face on the cover of one of the articles that popped up. He'd closed it after seeing that several of the scientists, as well as the two prophets, were facing legal charges. That was all he'd needed to know.

Well, not really all. He'd been looking for any mention of Virgil. The one he'd read had mentioned him briefly, if not by name, and was now written in Patton's notebook: Investigations began after the appearance of two young men, both of whom required immediate medical care.

One was Remus. The other had to be Virgil. That meant Virgil was alive somewhere. Patton wondered if Virgil too was reading the articles, seeing that Patton was out, wondering how to find him.

Gosh, Patton missed him.

Right now, Patton was following along with a video on tongue movements for forming different letters. He wasn't sure that he was getting the S quite right, he'd have to ask Remus later. He took a few more notes on how to do it, then folded his notebook closed and took Father's laptop off incognito. Remus had taught him how to turn on and off incognito mode with a little wink, and now Patton used it almost every time he was on the laptop, which was only while Father was at his second job. For some reason, Patton felt that he wouldn't be allowed to do this.

He was just in time out of Father's room for Remus to get home from work, shooting him a fingergun (Virgil used to do those all the time) before throwing himself onto the couch. Patton longed to shake his shoulder, ask him for help practicing, but Remus was always tired right after work. Patton wasn't sure what he did, only that he was trying to find something else that paid better, so sometimes he would be out for hours after he was supposed to be home looking for a new job.

Patton slid into his room, flicking the light switch to turn it off. He rarely sat in his room with the light on, it made him uncomfortable. It almost felt as though someone was watching, though he knew that it was just a response developed from a traumatic situation, as his therapist had told him.

He'd barely been in his room for thirty seconds when Remus wandered in. He gestured to his mouth, and Patton watched carefully as he spoke.

“You - - - - to eat pr - - - - -.”

“One more time?” Patton signed. Remus repeated himself, but Patton still didn't pick it all up, so he asked Remus to sign it.

“You need to eat protein,” Remus signed slowly. “Diet time.”

Patton wasn't particularly hungry, but a part of regaining his body mass and retraining his body to eat normally was eating six or seven small, 'enriching' meals instead of three big ones. Remus was right, Patton realized as he checked the clock—it was time for his protein supplement, a meal usually made up of beef jerky and peanuts. Yay.

-

The weeks turned into months, and Remus decided that it was time for Patton to get some real world practice. Sure, he'd been going to therapy and all, but those folks rarely talked to him. It was time to play to Logan's weaknesses.

He brought it up over dinner one night, when Patton had already gone to bed. It rubbed him the wrong way that Logan sent him to bed instead of letting him stay up and talk to his pops, who had only been home for ten minutes. Sure, Pat had a schedule or whatever, and he had to follow it to stay healthy, but it should be his own decision. Still, there was nothing Remus could do about it. Except maybe this.

“So, when's your next day off?”

Logan shrugged. “I believe I have the morning of next Wednesday off, but that's all for next week. Why?”

Remus twirled his fork through the cheap macaroni and cheese, pretending to not be too interested in the outcome. “Just thinkin'. Pat's almost out of books again, we should probably make a trip to the library.”

Logan smiled softly at the suggestion—or maybe at Patton's name. There was no telling with the man.

“And his therapist's been saying he needs to go to a new place for enrichment or something like that. Wouldn't—”

Logan's face had already shuttered. “Absolutely out of the question. I cannot—”

“Lo, he really wants to,” Remus pleaded, letting his fork fall to the table. “He's gotta get out of this house. And what better place than a quiet library, where it's easy to watch him and sometimes there's a cop hanging out?”

“Remus, I—I can't,” Logan said, his face still stone, but now his eyes had grown sad. “I cannot, in good conscience, allow Patton to be in an unsafe environment. If I lost him again. . . .”

“You won't,” Remus cajoled. “I'll come too, watch him be safe. Just imagine how much he'll love it! Father-son bonding and all that crap!”

Logan looked down at his plate, clearly thinking deeply. Remus could almost see him weighing the options in his head. Internally, his heart rabbited, but externally Remus was the picture of calm. Hopefully. Maybe. He was probably not, but he could dream.

“I'll consider it,” Logan said eventually. “You are correct in assuming that the library is a place I would very much like to share with him. Tomorrow after tutoring Andy I will stop at the library and inquire after safety precautions. By Monday, I will have my decision.”

Remus leaned back, picking his fork up again. That was as close as he was going to get Logan tonight. If he continued to push it, Logan would completely shut down the conversation and then there'd be no chance of getting Pat out of the apartment.

They'd been watching a stupid black-and-white movie a week or three ago, and one of the characters had said a line that Patton had obviously related to. Remus had looked over to see tears brimming after the old man on screen said, “I thought I was supposed to be getting fresh air. So far, I've been in a train and a room, and a car and a room, and a room and a room.”

That probably really sucked for Patton. Remus went stir-crazy in this tiny apartment, and he was able to leave whenever he wanted. Patton left three times a week, and went straight to his appointments and then straight home. One of his doctors had actually just switched over to doing virtual appointments, so Pat was only leaving twice a week now. Kid had to be going insane.

-

Patton felt a bit like he was going insane.

He marked a tally in his notebook every day, one for each day that he had been out without Virgil. It sort of was a continuation of his tallies in the cell, but he couldn't remember where he had left off, so he had just started anew.

He had just filled a second page of tally marks. It had been months since he'd escaped, even longer since he'd seen Virgil. Every time Remus tried to tell him that everything was going to be okay, or Father told him that everything was okay, Patton felt anger simmer in his stomach. It was not okay, it couldn't be okay, it would never be okay without Virgil. Even if he had to be trapped in this horrible apartment for years, it would be wonderful with Virgil by his side.

Every day, he followed the same schedule. Therapy exercises, meals at precise times, lip-reading studies, regular reading, bed at ten PM. It was terrible.

He couldn't help but feel excited, though. He was leaving, at least for a little bit! Father had asked him if he wanted to go to the library with him tomorrow, and Patton had thought his heart was going to drop out of his chest. Both Father and Virgil had told him about libraries, and how beautiful they were, and how many books were always there.

Patton was finally going to a new place, and it was the library. All of the anger he'd been feeling over the past weeks had washed away, replaced only with anticipation. Even with Father there, this had to be the best thing to happen in months.

~

Taglist: @enragedbees @gotta-love-alejandra @bunny222 @basiic-emo @patt0n-sanders @rosiepupper @fangirlgeekandfreak @dn-fan21 @that2000skid @remy-the-lemon-berry @itsadastraperaspera @xionbean @sanderssides-angst @hell-yea-we-gay-tonight @maybedefinitely404 @broken-pencils @thewhimsicallibrarytech @doomllily @hereissananxiousmess @judyismydog  @arodynamic-enby @at-that-one-nerd @therapysides @awkwardandanxiousfander @thekitchenpan @im-an-anxious-wreck

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

20.12, knee socks & stolen shirts, kyle o’reilly.

Title: knee socks & stolen shirts

Theme: fireplace/ stockings... again, trust me. it’s theme adjacent-ish.. sorta...

Fandom / Character(s): Kyle O’Reilly and a reader that’s partially inspired by myself tbh. No sense in lying. I did /try/ to keep all physical appearance details out of this aside from roommate/reader being female. Try is the operative here.

Warnings: uhh.. dry humping / making out. roommates to lovers? is that a trope/thing? i feel like it is... Uhh.. a few swear words... Not much else...

Word Count: my guesstimate is roughly around 2.8k. Maybe sliiightly over.

 This is my entry for the day for @champbucks​ 12 Days of Christmas challenge on @12daysofchristmas​. It was written in a fit of thirsting over Kyle, as one does... And my mighty need to take the suggested theme and of course, put my own twist to it.. because stockings doesn’t just have to imply those that are hung over the fireplace.... I made the banner thing used here, so no stealing or reposting it, please and thanks?

TAGGING:

@kyleoreillysknee​

@rampagewriting​

@writertoo18​

@thatnerdwriter​

@wrestlingismyguiltypleasure​

@chasingeverybreakingwave​

@waywardwrestlewritingwaif​

@sassymox​

@champbucks​

@hungmanhorsecarriage​

@wardl0w​

@ryantaylorgirl​

@dilfmoxley​

@hotyeehawman​

@gabbynorth98​

@bec0m​

@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​ 

@daddyslittlevillain​ 

[ about page | masterlist | tag list ]

The comforting glow and warmth of the fireplace and soft white Christmas lights strung on a tree over by the floor to ceiling window greeted Kyle as he stepped into the apartment, shutting the door behind him and locking all 3 locks. One glance around the dimly lit living room revealed that apparently, his roommate had decorated for Christmas and that had him giving a goofy grin as he chuckled to himself and peeled off the jacket that he wore over his hoodie and then bent to take down his sneakers off.

A sock clad leg settled over the back of their couch and out from beneath the red and black plaid throw that barely covered her, a second away from slipping off and settling on the floor. He could hear her light snores. The television set was on the channel that NXT normally aired on, but It’s A Wonderful Life was just starting.

Everything just felt so cozy. All the tension and craziness of the past few weeks plus the tiredness from traveling seemed to melt away from Kyle, leaving only comfort.

The overpowering feeling that this was home and damn, was it good to be back.

His eyes settled on her sleeping form just as she rolled over, face partially buried beneath the pillow she’d apparently bought out from her own room. He chuckled softly at the sight of her, rubbing his chin a moment in quiet thought as it hit him..

Somewhere in between her answering his ad for a roommate and now, he’d fallen for her. And as he thought back on the whole realization, he figured out that yes, he could pinpoint the exact moment. And now that he was sitting there in the dimly lit living room and actually thinking about it, Kyle saw no reason to keep it to himself.

But the question remained.. Exactly how did he proceed from where he was right now?

It was what he was trying to figure out when he heard her soft whimpers across the room and had to shift around on the stool in which he sat because just the sound… The sight of her legs. The way the fireplace’s soft glow lit her sleeping form and made long hair seem to shine as she lie there. The little soft sighs and other sounds she made as she continued to sleep on blissfully on the couch were doing all sorts of things to him.

The blanket she’d had barely covering her gave up it’s fight to stay and slid down the side of the oversized suede sectional and settled to the floor in a pile. Kyle stood and made his way over, mostly on autopilot for the time being and he bent, retrieving the fallen blanket. Bending at the waist to put it over her. And just as he was about to, she rolled onto her back, long locks fanned out on a pale winter white silk pillow cushion, her arms stretched out lazily.

His eyes settled on the familiar long sleeve shirt she happened to be wearing and it clicked as to why exactly the shirt was so familiar.

It belonged to him.

His hand raised, catching in close cropped hair as he continued to stare down at her. He wondered how long she’d had it. He tried to convince himself that she’d just grabbed a shirt to throw on earlier and hadn’t realized. Or maybe his shirt got mixed in with her laundry, it’d happened to him a time or two. One memorable instance was the time a pair of her panties got stuck inside the leg of his jeans, only to fall out in the aisle as he boarded the plane. 

,, your first clue you felt something for her should’ve been just how jealous you got every single time Roderick attempted to flirt with her, or the way he teased you about her underwear the whole flight and you got downright protective. As if she were yours and yours alone. Not to mention all the endless fantasizing you’ve been doing about her lately...” the realization crept in as he replayed it over in his head.

Now it was all starting to make so much sense.

He took a few shaky breaths and worked on pulling himself together. He’d just turned to walk away, intending on going straight to his room because he needed to think. He needed to ground himself and get some focus to figure out what he was going to do with everything that was occurring to him currently and he just… Couldn’t like he needed to with the distracting temptation of her sprawled out sleeping on the couch.

Another quiet whimper shattered the silence from behind him. But it wasn’t the sound itself that had Kyle turning back to stare down at her as he strained to hear and his breath caught in his throat all over again, no… It was what she whimpered as the sound was made.

His name. Softly. And not just the one time either, at least two or three times. Followed by a contented little sigh and more words muttered in a lower tone so that he couldn’t exactly be sure of what she’d said.

He eyed her, briefly convincing himself that she was awake and teasing or something.. but then one good look at her revealed that no, she was still asleep. With no actual clue what she was saying or doing, apparently.

If he thought he was hard enough to crack concrete before, it was… So much worse now. And still getting harder with each second and every single little sigh or purr or other quiet noise she managed to make. His fists clenched at his sides and he took a few deep breaths.

It did nothing to help him or calm him down.

She tossed a little in her sleep, the little movements sending the bottom of the shirt up over a pair of red and white striped panties that matched the over the knee socks she was currently wearing and Kyle let out a quiet groan of frustration.

He needed to go think. Figure things out.

Bearing the thought in mind, he turned, intending to walk out of the living room and down the hall to his own room, but in his haste to get out of there, his shin banged right against the metal leg of the low to the ground coffee table.

The sound was loud.

Kyle tensed a little, not even daring to look back and see if it might have woken her up….

XXX

The sound of something hitting the coffee table had me opening one eye slowly and immediately sent me into a bit of an internal panic when the dim glow of the fireplace across the room revealed that Kyle was home.

A whole day early.

I watched him clutching at his shin and hopping around a little, soft little grin on my face while his back was turned to me and then, it hit me…. I was wearing one of the shirts I stole out of his closet right after he left to go back on the road.

And I had no way to get past him, because he was standing right in front of me.

,, Okay.. best way to play this is totally oblivious. Pretend you’re just now waking up. Don’t mention the fact that why yes, you’re wearing one of his shirts… Act normal.” my mind coaxed, prompting me to sit up and stretch, make a big show of yawning out loud to get his attention. Kyle turned around and I rose from the couch, coming to a stop in front of him.

“I hope you didn’t mind that I decorated…” I nodded to the room we stood in, giving a sheepish little smile as I tilted my head and met his gaze. ,, please don’t notice your shirt on me… please don’t notice your shirt on me…”

Kyle gave a quiet chuckle and yawned a little himself, “See what you started?” with a teasing grin. He nodded to the fireplace, lined with two red and black plaid stockings and gave another quiet chuckle. “Stockings, though?”

I gave his chest a light swat. “I’ll have you know, sir.. It’s tradition.You always hang stockings over the mantle before Christmas. Besides, damn it, they were cute and on sale.” I gave a soft laugh and shook my head, staring up at him a little, still sort of waking up if I were to be totally honest about it.

He pretended to think it over, stepping just a little closer. His eyes settled on my lips and when he swallowed hard, my eyes caught on the subtle movement of his throat as he did so. I did the same, especially when I realized that we now had almost zero space between our bodies.

So far, so good. He hadn’t noticed the shirt I was wearing happened to be one of his.

I crossed my fingers below the extra inches of fabric on the sleeves that caused them to cover my hands almost entirely.

His gaze fixed just over our heads and I remembered that earlier, when my friend had been over helping me decorate, she’d jokingly hung up mistletoe somewhere in the apartment, but refused to tell me where.

His throat cleared after his eyes settled back on mine and we spent a few seconds that seemed to linger longer than usual, passed. He nodded upward and my eyes followed his, settling on the sprig. I swore under my breath, gave him a sheepish and apologetic shrug. “Sorry, my friend helped me do all this earlier and she probably did that…”

One of his hands squeezed my hips, guiding me so that I pressed against him, just when I thought that we were standing close enough already that there wasn’t any space left between us. Now there really wasn’t. And I could feel my heart fluttering lazily. I melted against him a little and busied myself toying with the strings of his black hoodie, staring at the lettering on the front.

Because if I looked up at him right now, I was half afraid I’d go for it and pull his mouth down against mine. Lately it’s been so much harder to keep my feelings and my desires where my roommate Kyle is concerned, to myself.

His hand left my side and raised, thick and calloused fingers tucking beneath my chin. Pulling my gaze up to meet his so that I had no choice in the matter. When his tongue slowly trailed over his mouth, I fidgeted ever so slightly, melting against him just a little more before I could stop myself or censor the action.

The other hand squeezed my hip and he took a few shaky breaths. His eyes lowered, roaming over me nice and slow. I knew I was caught when he chuckled to himself quietly and met my gaze. “So that’s where my shirt went…”

My face has never gone as red as it did then, as fast as it did. Ever.

“I…” but my brain was in overload at the moment, so coming up with a suitable excuse as to how I’d gotten his shirt in the first place wasn’t happening. It would’ve been easy to just say that I’d done a load of laundry and somehow, the shirt I wore must have gotten mixed in with my own clothing, but apparently… My brain wasn’t dealing with logic right now.

I was so caught up in the fact that I’d been caught sleeping in his shirt that I actually missed everything else that was going on. I was dazed, my mind going a million different directions all at once.

Kyle was leaning down just a little, his face close to mine. His lips brushed mine clumsily as he spoke, the soft husk of his voice making me clench my thighs because it… definitely did things to me.

“We’re standing under mistletoe right now, sweetheart.” Kyle mused, giving a sort of smirk as his eyes met mine  after another slow travel over my entire body.

“That we are, Kyle.” I muttered, mostly still in a daze. Maybe a little bit still half asleep too. I leaned my face in a little closer, mirroring the way he’d done it so subtly before, without me even realizing it.  His fingertips dug into my side a little bit deeper. He held me tighter against him too, a quiet growl shattering the silence and limited space between our mouths when his mouth managed to catch against mine directly. Something in him snapped. He pulled me up his body and I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck. My fingers toyed with his neck, making him laugh quietly and shiver as he sank down onto the couch.

“You know what playing with my neck does to me. We talked about all this before, remember?”

“Mhm.” I muttered, locking eyes with him. His hands moved up and down my sides, one stopping on my bare thigh, squeezing. He shifted the way he sat and when he rubbed against me and I felt the way he strained at his jeans, I shivered again, a quiet whimper falling from my lips as I gripped his bearded jaw and pulled his mouth closer to mine all over again. “Are you gonna do anything about it, Kyle?”

“Oh, I have a few ideas in mind, babe.”  his mouth met mine and our noses bumped, sending us springing apart and laughing about it. “You shocked the tip of my nose too, ouch!” I whined, giving him a bit of a playful pout as I rubbed the tip of my nose.

“Me? You’re the one with the hard head, sweetheart.” Kyle’s laughter died on his lips and brown eyes settled on my mouth all over again hungrily. My tongue danced over the outline of my lips and Kyle was pulling me even closer to him, making it so that I was positioned right over the way he strained at his jeans. His fingers dug into my thigh and my lower back and he gazed at me. “Do it again.”

“Do what?” I asked, doing my best to feign innocence, despite knowing exactly what I was doing, thanks to a conversation we’d both had once a while back about what turned us on and off.

“Lick your lips, babe.” Kyle’s voice was so husky, thickened with desire that his words almost came in a quiet growl. I rocked against him a little and thick digits dug into my body all that much tighter. Instead of licking my own lips this time, I took a shaky breath or two and really pressed myself against him, daring to trail my tongue right over the outline of his lips.

“Fuck.” Kyle swore quietly, closely followed by a groan.

“Listen, if you want to kiss me, I’m not stopping you.” I purred, repeating the slow drag of my tongue over the outline of kissable lips, teasing him a little.

Because it was the only thing I knew to do to keep me from just going for it… and yet, being able to clue him into how badly I wanted his lips on mine at the moment without daring to say so. Because I’d been trying, but the words had yet to leave my mouth.

“Oh, you’re not, hm?” Kyle’s mouth was against mine in a flash, I barely got any time to process it happening. His hand left my thigh, traveling upward, catching in the hair at the back of my head as his fingers tangled up in it, using his grip to pull my mouth in even deeper. I whimpered and my mouth fell apart willingly, granting his tongue access to mine and his other hand gripped my hip tight, guiding me over the hefty bulge straining at the front of his favorite blue jeans.  “That’s good.” he mumbled, the words hanging in the air as the kiss broke a few seconds for us to breathe. My hand slid down the front of his hoodie and settled between us, fingertips toying with the hem of the garment as I stared at him. He continued, “It’s good because I really, really… really… want to kiss you. I have for a while now.”

I leaned in all over again, pressing my upper body against his and leaning him back against the back of the couch as I caught his face in my hands and pulled his mouth against mine all over again greedily. As I kissed him, I rocked myself against him. His hands flexed and squeezed on my thighs, and he groaned quietly into the kiss, bucking himself against me, giving a low chuckle. “Feels so damn good to finally kiss you.” he half mumbled and half growled against my neck as his mouth broke from mine and trailed down it, “So good. You have no idea.”

I whimpered, whining impatiently because his grip bought my grinding against him to a momentary pause, and his free hand raised, catching on my jaw, making me meet his gaze. The tender look in lust blown brown eyes nearly blew me away and I felt my breath catch in my throat. “Love you, sweetheart. I’m glad to be home.”

“Love you too, Kyle. I’m glad you’re finally home.” I mumbled, our mouths already closing the distance as we both went in for another kiss….

[crutchie-with-a-y]

Chapter 2: The Morning Machine

Chapter 1

"Wait, wait, what?!" Specs almost spat out his beer in surprise. "Jack and Davey? Those stubborn idiots? They finally got together?"

"Yep," Smalls said, smacking the back of a pack of cigarettes and sticking one in her mouth. She leaned her face towards the end of Race's cigarette to light her own. "End of one of Jack's art galleries, he finally sold a piece, and he was so happy."

"Hey," Specs snapped the cigarette out from between her teeth and took a drag. "Aren't you a little young to be smoking?" The rest of them laughed while she bit her bottom lip in a smile of annoyance.

"A, I'm nineteen," She snatched it back. "And B, you started smoking at thirteen so I don't wanna hear it." The group chuckled. Elmer, Race, Smalls, Mush, Finch, and Specs had all been sitting on the fire escape sipping drinks and passing stories and updating Specs on all that had happened in the time that he'd been gone. They'd been at it for hours, but it didn't feel like it'd been that long. That's how time passed when Specs was with his crew. He remembered coming home around four when he was a kid and just talking with his friends until Sarah came in and asked if anyone had had dinner yet considering it was eleven. "And Jack's doing art galleries now?" Specs asked, glancing down at the cars that were sputtering to life in the street. They'd talked clean through those early hours of the morning that still feel like night, and now they'd reached the early hours of the actual morning when the sun peaked over the roofs of apartment buildings and people started heading out for school and work.   "Oh, yeah," Elmer started, but before he could continue, a brown-haired woman stuck her head out the window from the apartment to the fire escape. "Do any of you need any extra food for today? Considering that I have to leave in" She stopped rubbing her eyes to smack a thin, sage-colored watch on her wrist. "Jesus, I was supposed to leave already. Anyone need anything?" "SARAH!" Specs shouted with glee, causing her eyes to slam open. "Oh my lord, Specs, Darling! Where have you been?" Sarah smiled brightly with outstretched arms, the exhaustion wiped clear off her face. He stumbled over his friends and wrapped the only maternal figure he had in his life in the strongest hug he could muster. He used to run up to her and bury his face in her stomach, but now she barely reached his shoulder.  "I thought I said to stop growing at five-seven, " She grinned, lightly tapping his nose with her finger. "Now you're going to be hitting your head when you get inside." "What time is it, Sarah?" Race said, over-pronouncing the R in her name. The rest of the group was stretching out and picking up empty beers. "About 5:15, Racer," She responded, mimicking him. "Ah, shit, I gotta catch my train in ten minutes." Finch scooched past everyone and pushed himself through the window. Everyone else groaned in similar frustration and began to climb through the window. Except for Elmer, who stretched back out on the porch with his hands behind his head. "Ah, the joys of unemployment. I don't have to be anywhere today," He smirked, his eyes closed in relaxation. "You got fired, Nitwit," Mush smacked him in the back of the head. "You gotta go find a job and go get those kids up for Sarah." Elmer groaned. "Tell them there's a pot of oatmeal on the stove and I sweetened it so don't add any more sugar," Sarah said as she waved Specs through the window. Elmer nodded and climbed onto the outside of the fire escape. "Oh, Elmer use the LADDER, Lord, you gotta cut that out!" Sarah hollered as Elmer dropped from the edge of the fire escape onto the one below. Specs laughed as he stepped into the apartment he knew so well. It hadn't changed much. To the left of the fire escape window was a dim bedroom with no light fixtures, and to the right, it opened up into a living room that extended into a small kitchen with a tiny bar and no room for a table. The living room had a couple of ratty couches and a rocking chair facing a beat-up old television. Old, creaking mattresses were scattered all over the floor, some stacked with piles of blankets and some with sleeping bodies still in them. The walls were covered in drawings and notes and school papers that had been tacked up with pride. Specs smiled. He could still see some of his work decorating the room. It was so good to be back. "Where the hell did Elmer just go?" Specs asked, blinking out of his nostalgia. "Oh, we had enough growing boys and enough of us had jobs that we decided to rent out the Jamesons' apartment after they moved to California," Sarah informed him, walking into the kitchen. "Yeah, and 'cuz with all those "growing boys" this place smelled like actual ass," Smalls said, plopping her petite body down onto one of the couches. "Don't get too comfy, you got work too, You Little Brat," Mush reached over the back of the couch and picked her up, throwing her over the back of his shoulder and carrying her towards the bedroom, Smalls squealing as they went. "Ohhh, alright." Specs followed Sarah into the kitchen where she was bagging up sandwiches at the counter. He reached for a bag to help, but she poked him and gestured for the sink. He smirked and walked over to turn the faucet on and began scrubbing his hands. "Yeah, it's been nice to have the extra space. The bedroom up here has everyone's clothes in it, and downstairs we have a couple of desks and a crib." Sarah said, finishing with a little hum. Specs loved that sound. She always made it when she was happy about something. Specs could tell she was proud of how far they'd come since renting out that single bedroom all those years ago. He knew, he was there, he remembered it like it was yesterday. He was proud too. "Wait, what do you need a crib for? Specs questioned, flicking his hands. He did some quick calculations in his head. "Everyone should be.....twelve at least." "We have a couple of babies, well, used to be babies." Sarah pulled a marker out of a drawer and began scrawling names on the lunch bags in her smudged, loopy handwriting. Always was like that, Specs thought to himself. "Now I think they count as kids, but they're still small enough to sleep in a crib without too much protest." "Where the hell did you find babies?" Specs was still confused. "Sarah brought them in from work," Finch entered the kitchen to brush his teeth at the sink. "From work?" Specs glanced between the both of them, passing a bag to Sarah. "Yeah, she's a lunch lady at an elementary school," Finch said, his mouth foaming with toothpaste. "Can't you tell?" Sarah laughed, gesturing to her long, white, button-up dress and white sneakers. She stepped back from the counter and walked into the living room, kneeling in front of the TV to look at her reflection on the screen to pin up her hair. "Yeah, and some of the kids there didn't have a place to go so she brought them here. And they had younger siblings." Finch finished brushing and turned around, drying his mouth with the edge of his sleeve. "That's....so nice of her." Specs looked back at Sarah, who had finished pinning up her hair and was now gentling shaking awake those who were still in bed. "I know and," Finch looked down at the rows of lunch bags sitting on the counter. "Christ, she did it again." Specs looked at him with his eyebrow raised. "She gets up every morning at like four and makes everyone lunches and breakfasts, no matter how old they are." He explained. "Just like she did when we were kids." Specs said quietly, his heart suddenly aching. "Yeah," Finch shook his head. Their attention was drawn away by the sound of the apartment door opening and a dozen footsteps coming in. A stream of kids, ages three to around seventeen came through the door, all yawning and chatting with each other. Some were carrying half-eaten bowls of oatmeal and some were jumping on each other's backs. Some of the faces Specs recognized, and others were entirely new to him. But they all had the innocent, playful aura of kids raised by the newsies of Lower Manhattan. As the apartment began to fill with lean bodies and laughter, none other than Jack Kelly stepped through the door in his loose white T-shirt and faded blue jeans, ushering the last of the line of youngens through the door. His eyes looked to his left at the kitchen counter and his brow furrowed. He stepped into the living room and raised his voice over the chatter. "So you mean to tell me that the lovely Ms. Sarah Jacobs with a full-time job got up at the ass-crack of dawn to make all of us breakfast and lunch and nobody is going to thank her?" Sarah looked up from where she had been kneeling on the floor in front of the mattress and locked eyes with Specs. Before she could move though, the swarm of bodies rushed towards her and latched on, yelling their "Thank Yous" and "You look so pretty todays" and "You're the bests" so loud the neighbors across the street must have heard. Then a couple of the older kids lifted her up on their shoulders, despite her giggling protests. They carried her towards the door when she began to say she needed to leave, and everyone shouted a wall-shaking "I LOVE YOU SARAH" as they lowered her to the door. She laughed loudly and said she loved everyone too before making her way down the hall. "Every morning," Race said, strolling into the kitchen behind Specs and his face-bursting smile. "I swear that woman has more children than God himself," Another familiar voice said, pushing through the door past the kids. David Jacobs slid into the kitchen, met by Jacks welcoming arms. "Specs! Specs, you're here!" David's eyes went wide as he noticed him. Specs had completely forgotten that he was even there, he felt like he'd been watching a movie. "I didn't even see you there!" Jack wrapped him in a tight hug...and then a scarring noogie. "H-HI, Jack," Specs wriggled out from under his arm. Jack laughed with the tip of his tongue hanging out. How has nothing and everything changed at the same time, Specs thought, looking between Jack's characteristic laugh and the arm David had wrapped around his waist. "How have you been, Mr. Deserts-Us-For-Another-City-That-Isn't-Even-Close-To-Santa-Fe?" Jack asked, bending down to toss a tennis ball back to some kids in the living room. "Santa Fucking Fe? You're still on that musty desert town?" "Hey, it is not a musty desert town!" Jack protested before the ringing of an alarm clock that sat on the counter interrupted. "That's my cue to leave," Finch said, patting Specs on the back and grabbing his lunch as he made his way towards the door. "I'll see you at around five or maybe meet you for lunch at Jacobi's?" He said. Specs nodded, realizing as soon as Finch had left that he didn't know when his lunch was. "And that's our cue to start packing up," Jack said, stepping back into the living room. "Aho, everyone. The alarm just buzzed so let's get moving. Let's see if we can beat seven minutes today, THOSE PAPES DON’T SELL THEMSELVES!" Jack clapped and everyone started speeding around the apartment, in what Specs thought could only describe as efficient chaos. Blankets and sheets were torn of mattresses and folded in the same blink of an eye. The bare mattresses were then stacked in the corner of the room, while another group of kids began washing oatmeal bowls off and stacking them on the counter before grabbing lunch bags and passing them to their friends who they were labeled too. Specs felt a little less than useless, as he didn't know how to help and mostly felt like just a block in the gears of this morning machine. But when Jack and David started pointing him out to kids they were assisting and their eyes lit up with recognition, that feeling was washed away. "Specs! Guys, it's Specs!" A mid-teens Sniper called to his buddies, before running up and nearly knocking him over with his enthusiastic embrace. The kids talked at a mile a minute, and Specs didn't have time to answer all their questions before Jack yelled that it was time to go, and everyone rushed to get in a line in front of the door, their every hand gripping one of the brown paper lunches as they waved goodbye and filed out into the hall. Before he closed the door behind the last kid whose hand David was holding, Jack grabbed his and David's lunch and scanned the apartment before laying his eyes on Elmer. "Where the hell is Crutch?" He asked him, narrowing his eyes. Elmer's hands flew up with innocence, but before he could say anything, Jack snapped his fingers at him. "Don't be getting smart with me. I asked you to help him up here, and if I hear that it took any more than thirty seconds for you to be helping him up here, you're dead meat, you hear?" He said, his tone assertive. Elmer sighed and nodded, swinging his feet off the couch. "Okay, okay, I'm going, Jack." "Alright," Jack's face switched back to his cheerful morning grin. "Tell Jacobi I'm covering your lunch, Specs. Actually, I'm stupid. We all have lunch. Let's all meet at Jacobi's for an early dinner. Sounds good?" He looked around and everyone nodded. "Elmer, you get the word out to everyone before the end of the day?" "You's always asking me to do stuff," Elmer moaned dramatically. "Ah, yes well that's what those who are in charge are supposed to do. I can see why you got fired." Jack said snarkily. "Alright, see you after work. Love you Elms!"  And with that he shut the door before the pillow Elmer through could get to him.

"As you can see, Jack is a completely different person," Race said dryly, spooning the last bit of his oatmeal into his mouth and heading towards the door. Specs chuckled as he watched through the window as Elmer dropped down the fire escape again. "Okay, I gotta be on my way too. Crutch could probably use a hand if you don't have any plans for the day. And make sure Elmer leaves by noon otherwise not everyone will know to come to Jacobi's for dinner. See ya!" And with that, Race spun out the door, and Specs was left alone, seeing his childhood home a way he had never seen it before. Empty.

[avengerscompound]

Everywhere You Want to Be

Everywhere You Want to Be: A Bucky Barnes Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count:  1862

Rating:  E

Square filled: @star-spangled-bingo​ - Wade Wilson

Warnings: Smut (MF, oral sex, vaginal sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism)

Synopsis: Every time you and Bucky try to get close, Wade is already there.  Eventually, you decide if he really wants to watch that badly, you might as well let him.

Everywhere You Want to Be

Wade Wilson was everywhere you wanted to be.  It was like he had an innate sense of when you and Bucky were about to get a little too frisky in a public area and there he would be.  He would walk in on the two of you while you were kissing in the hall.  If Bucky was cooking and you came up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, just as you started to nibble the shell of Bucky’s ear, Wade would appear and ask what was for dinner.  One time the two of you were making out on the couch and he came into the room and just dived on top of you both.  It was like he had a sixth sense for foreplay.

You had started to tick down the days before Wade went back out into the world and was no longer staying with the Avengers. Not that you disliked him.  He was pretty entertaining really. Especially when he started talking to people who weren't there like you were on some kind of television program, but you really just wanted to be able to kiss your boyfriend and him not interrupt.

There was always your room of course.  There was nothing wrong with that.  It was where you were now after all.  Being in the privacy of your own quarters didn't make Bucky’s lips any less soft and demanding as they moved against yours.  Not did it make your skin prickle any less and Bucky’s hands moved up under your skirt, inching their way towards your sex.

It was just you were both so tactile, it would be nice to not be interrupted when you touched anywhere outside these four walls.

Bucky lifted you and carried you to the bed laying you back on it and crawling up between your legs without breaking the kiss.  The scruff from his beard tickled your lips and made them feel slightly numb the longer the two of you kissed.  You rolled your hips up under him, grinding on his rapidly hardening cock as he ran his hands up under your skirt, pushing it up to your waist.

“Well, well, well…”

Wade’s voice startled you both, making you freeze where you were and look over to the corner of the room.  There was a large swivel chair in the corner that you had never seen before and you wondered how you’d missed it when you’d come into the room in the first place.

Wade slowly spun around in the chair.  He had Alpine in his lap and he was stroking him like some kind of Bond supervillain.  “What do we have here?”

“What the hell?” Bucky yelped, sitting up and pulling your skirt back down again.  “What are you doing in here?  And what are you doing with my cat?”

Alpine seemed to suddenly realize that he was sitting on a complete stranger's lap.  He jumped up, hissed and ran under the bed.

“We were just talking.  What are you doing in here?”  Wade asked, as he leaned back in the chair and looked you over.

“This is our room!”  Bucky argued as you looked over the edge of the bed and tried to coax the fluffy white cat back out from under it.  He meowed at you and strutted out, ignoring everyone before climbing up onto his tree and curling up in the box that sat on the very top of it.  “Why is it every time we start getting close you’re there?”

“Getting close?”  Wade teased. “Is that what you grandpas are calling it these days?”

Bucky glared at him.  “Wade!”

“You keep getting down and dirty wherever I am.  Maybe you like being watched,” Wade reasoned.

“Get out of here!”  Bucky yelled.

“I didn’t hear a ‘No, Deadpool, I hate being watched,” Wade teased.

“I think it was implied in the tone,” Bucky countered.

“You know what?”  You said, taking off your dress.  “I’m gonna fuck my boyfriend.  And whoever's here just has to entertain themselves because that’s what I’ll be doing.”

Wade clapped his hands and bounced in his seat.  “Yay!”

“What… what… what…”  Bucky babbled as he looked between you and Wade.  He finally decided that his attention was best kept on you and he covered your breasts with his hands.  “What the hell?”

“What?”  You asked, running your hands up under his shirt.  “You have a little exhibitionist in you.  “Wade’s obviously a huge pervert…”

“Why, thank you,” Wade interrupted.

“So if he’s not gonna leave he can watch,” you said.

“Just relax and pretend I’m not here,” Wade added, grabbing his dick.

Bucky looked between you and Wade again, this time his eyes settling on Wade. “If you get too close to me, you’re going to be regrowing a body part you’re extremely fond of.”

“Looking and not touching,” Wade agreed.  “Got it.”

You pulled Bucky’s shirt up over his head and he leaned in and kissed you again.  You wrapped your legs around his waist and pushed your hands into his hair as you kissed him hungrily and frantically.  He ground down against your cunt, his cock hardening against you.

You frantically unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants.  He broke the kiss and curved down to suck at your breast.  You pulled out his cock and started to pump it up and down with your fist.

“You guys are in a rush, huh?”  Wade taunted.  “Don’t believe in taking time with the foreplay?  Like just shoving it in dry?”

“Hey!”  You yelped and threw a pillow at him.

Bucky seemed to take Wade’s taunting as a personal affront.  He slowed down, kissing his way down your body as he slid your panties down and off.  You spread your legs and put your feet on his shoulders as he started nuzzling at your pussy.  He spread your folds with his fingers, the metal of his hand cold against the heat of your cunt.  You gasped and bucked your hips up against his mouth.  His tongue swirled over your cunt slowly like he was making sure to lick over all of it.

“There you go, now that’s how you please a lady,” Wade teased.

Bucky lapped wide over your cunt and with every swipe of his tongue he focused more and more until the point of his tongue was focused directly on your clit.  He thrust two of his fingers into your cunt and as his mouth worked your clit, his fingers curled and dragged over your inner walls. They hit your g-spot again and again, creating a hot buzz in your cunt that radiates out through the rest of you.

Using your feet as leverage against his shoulders you rolled your hips against his face, panting as the orgasm that was building inside you came close and closer to breaking.  You grabbed your tits, massaging them and pinching your nipples.

“Oh yeah, now we’re talking,” Wade said.  “You a squirter, babe?”

You were about to answer when Bucky bit at your clit and corkscrewed his wrist and your body did the answering for you.  You arched up violently and cried out as you gushed on Bucky!

“Yee-haw!” Wade cheered.  “We struck oil!”

Bucky sat up and wiped his mouth before stalking back up your body.

“Is that it?  Onto the main event?”  Wade asked, sitting forward in his chair.  “No reciprocation?”

“I don’t need reciprocation,” Bucky growled, as he tapped the head of his cock against your oversensitive clit.

“Aww buddy,” Wade cooed.  “You a little touch-sensitive still?  Afraid you might blow your load a little too soon?  I’ve got the opposite problem.”  He gave himself a firm slap on his crotch.  “Barely feel anything these days.  There are times I need fifty volts straight up the urethra for me to jizz.  But if you like, while you two are fucking, I can come and give you a prostate massage.  I brought gloves.”

Bucky glared at Wade like he was tempted to tear off the mercenary’s arm and beat him with it.  “Will you shut the hell up?”

Wade made a zipped lip gesture and Bucky turned his attention back on you, sliding his cock up and down your folds.

“Kudos on the huge dick, by the way,” Wade added.  “That the serum or were you always well endowed?”

“Wade!”  You yelped.

“Right sorry,” Wade said.  “Being quiet as of… Now.”

Bucky lined himself up and thrust hard into you.  You gasped and clenched around him, stretching your arms over your head and gripping the headboard.  He held you up at the waist and leaned down, sucking at your nipples through your bra as he thrust into you hard and deep.  His fingers continued to work your clit in rapid circles.  With his mouth and hand and the angle he held you at making it so the head of his cock hit your g-spot again and again - you lost control.

There was magma in your veins.  It flowed through you, making sweat bead on your skin and pressure build inside you.  You looked over at Wade, he was watching you closely, lazing back in the chair.  Or at least you assumed he was watching you.  It was impossible to tell in the mask.  There was always the chance he’d fallen asleep.

You bucked your hips and arched up more, letting Bucky penetrate you deeper and deeper.  Things became blurry.  The only thing in high definition was Bucky and the way he was fucking you.

“Fuck.  Yes.  Bucky.  Fuck me,” you panted as he pounded into you.  He pinched your clit and bit down on your breast.  It sent a jolt straight through you and the orgasm that had been sitting right there on the precipice broke and crashed over you.

Bucky jerked inside you, your orgasm dragging his over too and he emptied inside you with a low moan.

“Nice.  Finish with a creampie.  Nothing too messy, huh?”  Wade said sitting up and clapping his hands.  “Solid ending.”

“... and then after Bucky threw a lamp at me, we went and got chimichangas.”  Wade finished.

“Did… did you just tell us a story we were supposedly part of?”  Bucky asked.

“Supposedly,” Wade snarked while doing air quotes.

“That is not how I remember that going down,” you said.

“Yeah, right.  You totally just kicked me out of the room,” Wade said and touched under his eye.  “Wink.”

“Is Bucky’s dick really that big?”  Clint asked.

“Oh yeah.  Like an arm.  It’d be like getting fisted if you had to take that thing,” Wade said with a knowing nod.

“It is not!”  Bucky argued.

“I mean, that’s a weird thing to argue about,” Clint said.  “But sure, Bucky has a small dick.  That’s what I’m taking away here.”

“It’s not small either…” Bucky said, getting flustered.

“It really isn’t,” Natasha agreed.  “I don’t know, you two.  I’m thinking he was telling the truth.”

“I only ever tell the truth,” Wade said.  “Like remember that time when I walked in on you…”

“Wade!”  Natasha yelped.

You started laughing and settled back in the chair to listen to the next of Wade’s stories.