#and to one day be freed from the grey tinted glasses

[esmealux]

The Devil Doesn’t Do Children

Part: 1 / ?

Setting: About a year after 5a

Word count: 3.3K

Rating: T

Warnings: Mention of death/murder (and, quite indirectly, foeticide)

Summary: Chloe is sick and Lucifer puts two and two together (with a little help from Dan).

Author’s note: This is my longest work so far. It was meant to be one long piece, but it ended up being 10.8K (!), so I’ve cut it into three parts. And just because I can’t help myself, there’s already a fourth on the way. Enjoy!

Usually, Lucifer wakes up bathed in golden dawn light and wrapped in the warmth of Chloe’s naked body. If it’s not her raucous snoring or the demanding screeches of her alarm that rouse him from his sleep, it is the press of her soft lips against his neck (or somewhere more south, if he’s particularly lucky, and he often is). But not today. Today he wakes up surrounded by darkness in her much too cold bed, and it’s neither her snores nor her kisses which break off his slumber. It’s the sound of Chewbacca being strangled in her bathroom. 

Or, he realises upon fully awakening, Chloe throwing up.

Alarmed and slightly annoyed that vomit of all things is interrupting his peaceful rest, he sits up in bed and stretches his taut body. Grabbing the nearest phone, he checks the time and groans when it says 05.26. Somewhere in his half-asleep mind, he recalls the Danish saying ‘Før Fanden får sko på’—now officially a synonym for 05.26, he thinks as he gets up and walks to the bathroom door barefoot.

‘Detective?’ he asks in a gruff voice, knocking quietly.

‘Don’t come in,’ she commands before heaving again.

He flinches. ‘Believe me, love, I wasn’t planning on it.’

It’s mostly said in jest, because if she asked him, he would be there by her side in a heartbeat. They’ve been through far too much together to care about the other’s less appetising sides. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time he sees her ejecting her stomach contents, having once picked her up from an extraordinarily wild Tribe night. At least he won’t have to stick his fingers down her throat this time.

Eventually, there’s an intermission long enough for her to flush, put down the seat and open the door for him. He enters with reluctance, inspecting her warily as she sits on top of the toilet lid, her head in her hands. When she looks up at him, he gasps. ‘Oh, darling, you look positively terrible’—he leans a bit forward, assessing her ashen face—‘Abominable, really.’ Behind the thick mask of nausea and exhaustion, he thinks he sees her glare.

‘Fancy a toothbrush?’ he offers, already walking past her to find one by the sink. A hint of gratitude glints in her matte eyes as he hands it to her along with a glass of water. He smiles at her and leans against the door frame, eventually looking down to appreciate his pedicure as she rinses her mouth. ‘Is pwobably sumthin I ate,’ she mumbles around foam and toothbrush. He cocks his eye and looks up at her, scoffing. ‘You think?’ When he’d locked himself into her flat late last night after hosting an event at Lux, he’d been greeted by the sight of her and her spawn sleeping on the couch, remains of junk food cluttering up the coffee table before them. The logo on the Styrofoam had made him shake his head in disappointment and disgust. He’d cleaned it up and carried the ladies to their beds, but not before ripping one specific menu card off their fridge and tearing it to pieces. ‘I mean, it’s one thing you order garbage for yourself, but must you punish your offspring in the process? I may detest children, but even I think that’s no way to treat a child. Especially Beatrice. You do realise the men’s room at Lux are cleaner than that place, right?’

In response to his question, she pulls the toothbrush out of her mouth, lifts the lid of the toilet and, once again, disgorges her dinner.

‘My point exactly,’ he replies, before crouching down next to her to hold back her hair.

*

‘Lucifer! Did you make breakfast?!’ The doe-eyed creature shrieks as it appears from its nest, the brown, ungroomed mane falling messily around its head.

‘Good morning to you too, urchin,’ he greets her, looking up from the pot he’s stirring in to give her a half-forced smile as she takes a seat by the counter. He feels a strange itch in his hands to pull out the bar stool for her and help her up (mostly because he can’t be bothered with her tedious jumping), but to his surprise, she climbs the stool with ease—or at least not ungracefully. It tugs at something in his chest the same way it does when he occasionally is compelled to spend time with his nephew, and the babe’s already crawling, or walking, or making sounds that somewhat resemble actual words. For unfathomable reasons, it makes him feel uneasy—but mostly pleased; the sooner they grow up, the sooner they’ll stop being such pains in the-

‘Oh my God, is that bacon? And eggs? And pancakes?!’

He sighs and looks up to chide her for her unjust invocation, but swallows it when he sees her hungry, gleeful eyes. ‘Yes, here. Have some actual food,’ he tells her, nudging the plate and some cutlery in her direction. And some wet wipes, because longer limbs or not, she’s still a sticky child.

‘It’s chocolate chip pancakes!’ she exclaims upon inspecting her breakfast further, as if he didn’t already know. ‘Thank you, Lucifer. You’re the best.’ She’s beaming brightly at him now, and he feels threatened, foreseeing that she, any second, will launch her small body at him and enclose his middle, ruining his Armani suit with her greasy fingers. But she doesn’t. She just sits there and stares at him, her eyes twinkling with an emotion that looks uncannily related to one he has only ever seen in her mother’s eyes.

‘Eh,’ he breathes, his throat tightening. He looks away from her unsettling smiley face and returns his attention to the pot on the stove. ‘Well, it was the least I could do after your supposed caregiver fed you literal poison last night.’

Suddenly reminded of the Detective and her progeny’s shared meal, he turns his head to search the adolescent’s face for any signs of sickness. But she doesn’t look remotely nauseous as she devours her feed like a starving hyena cub. He quirks an eyebrow. ‘I’m guessing from your lupine appetite that you haven’t been praying to the porcelain gods like your mother?’

Beatrice’s brows knit together, her fork pausing mid-air. She (fortunately) swallows her food before she speaks, all joy in her voice suddenly gone, ‘Mom’s sick?’

‘Well, yes, but I’m positive it’ll pass soon. She just needs to… get it out of her system,’ he quickly reassures her, offering her a soft smile. The discomforting concern in the big, brown eyes slowly disappears as absolute delight takes over.

‘Does that mean you’re taking me to school?’ She asks, her small corpus barely able to contain her joy. ‘In your car?!’

He scoffs, feeling attacked. ‘As if I’d ever voluntarily drive your mum’s mind-numbingly boring example of an automobile.’ She grins at that, making a comment about how his is ‘definitely a trazillion times cooler,’ and he smiles at her, smug and victorious. ‘Exactly, child! So, yes, naturally, I will be escorting you in the corvette. But now, march off and get yourself ready while I finish this…’ he pokes around the grey goo in the pot with the wooden spoon, trying not to grimace, ‘oatmeal, for your mother. According to our friend Alexa it’s good for nauseated humans, although I highly doubt it.’

The teenager simply shrugs at that, finishes her breakfast and retreats to her burrow to get dressed. Once the porridge is done, Lucifer pours it in a bowl, puts it on a tray along with a cool glass of coke (also Alexandra’s suggestion) and carries it up to the Detective’s bedroom. He opens the door slowly as to not wake her, but the stubbornest of women is sitting on the edge of the bed, using all strength left in her depleted body to pull on her skinny jeans. Putting down the tray on the nearest surface, he darts over to her with a ‘what in Dad’s name are you doing?!’ and tugs the trousers down her legs and off her. ‘We have to go to work, Lucifer,’ she objects rather weakly, not even trying to put her jeans back on. ‘I have to go to work,’ he corrects her, carefully laying her down once he’s freed both her feet. ‘You, Detective, need to stay here and rest until you can keep it all inside you.’ He senses she’s about to protest again, so he places a kiss on her forehead and assures her, ‘Trust me, dear, everything is taken care of.’ Even as nausea has tinted her face green, she manages to narrow her eyes at him in scepticism. ‘Just promise me you’ll behave,’ she eventually mutters as she gives up and nuzzles into the blankets.

He lightly strokes her shoulder with the back of his fingers and quietly walks out of the room, leaving her with a dramatic sigh and an ‘As you wish.’

*

Daniel is already at the crime scene when Lucifer arrives after depositing the urchin. He’d thought he’d have to go through an entire day of purgatory—or paperwork, as the Detective pronounces it—and it was only worsened by the fact that he wouldn’t have his partner by his side. If she had been there, he could at least have distracted them both with some suggestive looks here, some subtle touches there, and—when he’d worked her into a frenzy of desire—a coffee break or two in the parking garage. Instead, he’d have to endure the agonising tedium on his own, even as there were, at a minimum, three hell loops he’d rather spend his time in than do paperwork at the precinct all day. But then Miss Lopez had called and informed him they’d got a new case. He’d been absolutely delighted (as delighted as it is allowed when someone has dropped dead), but only until he’d made the mistake of telling her that the Detective was home sick, and she’d said that she would ‘call Espinoza ASAP’ and tell him to meet them at the scene. If he had just kept his mouth shut, he could have got the case all to himself, instead of having Detective Douche tag along.

Taking a deep breath, he checks his cuffs and takes his time approaching the douche in question. ‘Sorry I’m late. Your spawn spent quite some time choosing the right attire,’ Lucifer offers in greeting. Daniel looks him up and down with raised eyebrows, his eyes landing on the perfectly folded crimson pocket square. ‘For a normal school day? Wonder who inspired that kind of vanity in her.’

‘Well, it certainly wasn’t her father,’ Lucifer deadpans and nods towards Daniel’s hoodie/jacket/jeans-combination.

With a humourless laugh and a shake of his head, Dan stuffs his hands in his pockets and turns on his heels to walk up the stairs and into the residential building. After bringing out his flask and taking a long swig, Lucifer follows him.

When they enter the flat, Miss Lopez is leaning over the body with her camera. The sight is oddly welcoming. Comfortably familiar. She’d only come back a week ago after being away for a little over a month, on a much-deserved vacation in New Zealand, and Lucifer had missed her cheerful spirit and their crime scene banter terribly. The latter is, much to Lucifer’s annoyance, cut short today by Daniel ‘Buzz-Kill’ Espinoza’s ‘So, Ella, what can you tell us about the vic?’

It’s a rather uninteresting case; a woman, Laura Greene, 26, has been murdered in her home. Stabbed with a kitchen knife, first in the abdomen, then the chest. No signs of B&E, no signs of struggle. A swift and impulsive act—no doubt a crime of passion according to Ella. The most obvious culprit would be an angered partner, but the roommate, who found the body, tells them the victim wasn’t in a relationship and rarely went on dates or brought anyone home. On top of that, Roomie can’t think of anyone who would hurt dear Laura. And the neighbours are just as useless; one is a deaf elder lady, and the others were chasing the dragon at the time of death. The rest of the floor haven’t heard or noticed anything either. Consequently, they have absolutely nothing once they get to the precinct. Ella goes through evidence and Daniel through piles and piles of papers, leaving Lucifer to stand awkwardly in the corner of Ella’s lab, with no desires to unveil or miscreants to threaten.

As to not die of boredom, he zooms out and lets his mind wander. He’s in the middle of designing a strategy for how to make Chloe finally agree to try the deliciously sinful position he considers one of his favourites when Ella’s frustrated sigh interrupts his planning.

‘Something troubling you, Miss Lopez?’ he asks her, pulling out his flask.

She tells him she has nothing. No match on the fingerprints from the murder weapon, no useful surveillance tapes, no clues at the scene that can tell her the gender, age, or occupation of the murderer. Nada. Just the fact that it was done in a moment of heat.

Before Lucifer can answer, Dan walks in with a puzzled look on his ill-favoured face, his arms filled with highlighted printouts. ‘Could she’ve been pregnant?’

Ella tilts her head. ‘I mean, it’s not impossible, but based on what her roommate told us, I wouldn’t bet my money on it. You know, because our girl Laura had no boy toyz.’

Lucifer can’t hold back a snort. ‘Please, Miss Lopez, all it takes is a boy toy, singular, ten minutes in a bathroom stall and the absence of contraceptives.’

Dan looks at him with disgust and horror before shaking his head and returning his attention to Ella. ‘Well, no,’ he answers her, ignoring Lucifer’s comment entirely, ‘but then I thought about the other thing her roommate said, about Laura throwing up during the past weeks, and I thought-’

‘But Michelle said she thought it was an eating disorder, like Laura’d had before,’ Ella interrupts him, looking to Lucifer for support. He just purses his lips and looks back. Truth be told, when they’d been talking to the roommate, the mentioning of vomit had reminded him of his feeble Detective at home and he’d excused himself to send her a text. He therefore hadn’t heard whatever explanation the woman had offered (nor her arguments for why the victim’s sickness would be relevant to them). Fortunately, Dan answers.

‘Yeah, I know, I thought that too, but then I saw she paid a bill to an OB-GYN earlier this month, and it could just be a gynaecological check-up or something, but then I remembered how badly Chloe suffered from morning sickness when she was pregnant with Trixie, so I…’

Lucifer stops listening as Daniel’s words—one in particular—suddenly whirl around him, loud and ominous. His heart starts pounding faster and his throat goes dry. He instinctively grips the edge of the lab table.

‘Surely there could be other explanations,’ he manages to get out, interrupting his co-workers’ discussion. ‘Food poisoning, for instance.’

Dan and Ella look at him with equally sceptical looks. ‘Not for ten days straight,’ Ella argues.

‘But there is a myriad of reasons for a woman to throw up,’ he defends as he starts frantically googling. ‘Indigestion, stomach bug, chemotherapy, motion sickness… aha, migraine!’

When Lucifer looks up from his phone, Daniel is looking at him like he’s questioning his sanity. Miss Lopez seems concerned too, but more in an ‘dude, you okay?’-way than anything else.

Ella slowly takes her eyes off Lucifer’s face and eyes Dan shortly. ‘Well, we can’t know for sure before we get the final results from the autopsy, but from what Dan has found, she could quite possibly be pregnant.’

‘But,’ Lucifer objects, barely audibly, like someone has knocked the wind out of him, ‘she can’t be.’ He’s staring out into empty air, unwelcome images suddenly flooding his mind, as Daniel and Miss Lopez continue talking. He’s on the verge of what he thinks might be a panic attack when a voice, her voice, drags him out of his own head.

‘Hey guys,’ she greets them. She’s hoarse and looks a little tired, but the green tinge is gone.

‘Detective,’ is what he manages to say back. She looks at him with soft eyes and it’s enough for him to come back to his senses for a moment. Surprised by her presence, he begins to ask, ‘Are you done-’

He was going to say ‘puking your guts out’ but she widens her eyes at him and cuts him off, ‘Having a bad headache? Yes, thank you, Lucifer. I just needed some rest.’

‘Right,’ he mumbles, giving her one slow nod. She walks over to stand close beside him and brushes her fingers against the back of his hand, somehow sensing that he’s tense. 

‘Okay, what have we got?’ She looks to Dan and Ella and lets go of Lucifer’s hand. He instantly misses her touch.

They fill Chloe in, telling her about everything from the lack of leads to small, seemingly insignificant details. When she’s completely up to date, she has that look on her face, eyes slightly narrowed, like she has a (historically, clever) theory.

‘Well,’ she begins, still visibly thinking, ‘it does take two to tango.’ She side-eyes Lucifer, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips. It’s clear she expects a remark or a praising grin in return, and he tries, but it comes out as a grimace and a strained ‘eh’. She gives him a funny look before continuing her theory, ‘What I mean is, boyfriend or not, there’s still a father out there. Maybe he found out and couldn’t handle the news? Maybe he was married to someone else? Or… he just didn’t want to be a dad?’

Lucifer feels his heartbeat speed up once again. An odd emotion he can’t quite name spreads in his chest. It feels like a disease.

‘Sure seems like motive, but how are we gonna find him?’ Dan asks. Not one second later, Miss Lopez’ ‘found him!’ sounds from where she’s leaning over her computer. ‘Tech just got access to her photos —kinda tricky since she had this super secure lock-’

‘Who is he, Ella?’ Chloe demands.

Ella clicks on the screen and turns the computer around so they can see. ‘The guy’s everywhere in her camera roll. I don’t know, he seems kinda familiar, but-’

‘That’s Max Steinfeld!’ Dan exclaims when he sees the photo. It’s taken in bed, post-orgasm Lucifer would say, judging from the blissful aura. Laura’s got a hand on the man’s chest who, indeed, is the chap who starred on that horrible teenage comedy show and today is trying to redeem himself by doing mediocre action movies and… settling down with Hollywood’s sweetheart. 

‘But he’s dating Simone Riley,’ Lucifer enlightens his colleagues upon his revelation. ‘They’re tying the knot this spring.’

Chloe shoots him a questioning look, and he tells her he got a mani-pedi the other day. She nods her head in understanding.

‘Well, if he’s engaged, he probably wasn’t ecstatic when Laura told him she was pregnant with his baby.’

As she asks Dan to get the actor’s current location all Lucifer can do is stand there and stare at her, as if he might find the answers to the thousands of questions in his head written on the side of her face. But he doesn’t. He only finds the familiar beauty mark, a perfectly pointed eyebrow, and the smooth, marble-like skin of the woman he loves. And it makes him yearn for those answers even more.

Part II  |  Part III  | Part IV (coming soon)

[casino-lights]

I don't want to sound mean but like Joseph hasn't got good intentions, as a cult leader he is manipulative and has killed a number of people in the process. Sure you might say he's not abusive depending on how you see abuse and the different levels of it but Joseph is a cult leader remember, he's not a good man even if he seems to be.

I mean I don’t know where I said he’s a good man. I think he’s very morally grey, as is everyone in FC5 and FCND. All I said was that him being a cult leader doesn’t mean he is, by default, abusing his siblings or any potential significant other. John, Faith, and Jacob have minds of their own and agency of their own and while they may be seeking Joseph’s favor, that doesn’t mean Joseph manipulated them.

In New Dawn, he writes that he thinks he gave his siblings too MUCH agency and he regrets that. He let them do what they wanted. I see too many people saying the Heralds - especially John - were abused and manipulated by Joseph and that if he hadn’t used them like tools they wouldn’t be the way they are, and honestly I just don’t think that’s true. Jacob, John, and Faith all has their own issues and working with Joseph just gave them opportunities to unleash their traumas upon others. Jacob’s worldview was colored by his experience in Iraq and he considered it his test, so he tried to “test” others in the same manner. John’s adoptive parents abused him under the guise of purging him of sins he’d never committed and he thought it freed him, so he tried to “free” other people the same way. Faith was cut off from her peers and made to feel like an outsider before she found the Project, which then made her feel welcomed and loved, so she tried to systematically cut people off from one another in order to show them the love of the Project.

And that’s not even to mention the fact that most of not all of Joseph’s followers GENUINELY believe in him AND his Heralds (listen to some audios of cultist chatter you can hear and you’ll see what I mean). I personally don’t think a leader is responsible for EVERY action of his follower(s) - is the deputy responsible for Sharky setting everything on fire? I think Joseph saw the Project through rose-tinted glasses and convinced himself that he was doing the right thing and that his followers and Heralds were just doing what was necessary to make that right thing happen. The Heralds throw around the phrase “this is the will of the Father” a lot, but we don’t have any concrete proof that Joseph actually authorized anything they do, and later in FCND we see that he wishes he paid more attention to EXACTLY what they were doing.

idk I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about Joseph Seed and sure I’m probably biased but at the end of the day... I’m a fic writer. I spent approximately a year of my life working on my headcanons. I’d like to think that I’ve been paying attention to what lore we have for this game enough to make educated judgements about the characters. You can take this all with a grain of salt, but it bugs me to see so many people excuse the actions of the other Seeds by condemning Joseph. Nobody is truly “good” in FC5, and imo, nobody is truly “evil” either.

[alice-writes-junk-blog]

Blmb0 Fairy pt 1

Today wasn’t Alice’s best day, work was rough and dragged on for way too long. She had heard the same quality control speech six different times because she was the QA manager for the QA team. She was tired about hearing about the rules of the work place and how they should be enforced and how best to size the font on the posters. She groaned as she leaned onto the cold shopping cart. All she wanted to do was go home and binge on junk food and enjoy her weekend with her husband. Mark was walking half an isle in front of her looking at all the labels on the cans of food and making mental notes.

She stared at him, now realizing how boring their married life had become. They literally came to the grocery store an hour before closing on a Friday night as their big event for the weekend. “God, we’re old.” She grumbled.

He chuckled softly, “You’re old!”

“Hey!” She joking pushed the cart at him catching it before it left her grasp. She loved him, and the way he aged. No longer was he this young teen who thought being 18 meant he had the keys to the world but a scruffy well formed man who loved reading labels on cans to find words he didn’t know. His soft brown hair still fluffed across his head, as his once piercing eyes now carried soft lines along the edges.

Alice softly tossed her head to the side smiling at her husband. “God you’re such a geezer.”

“Babe, we’re literally 20 something.” He spoke bluntly not looking up from the new can he found.

“You’re turning 30 next year.” She snapped.

Mark’s eyes widened as his face slunk back into his neck, “Shit.” He placed the can in his hand back on the shelf before rising to his feet, his face still stuck in awe of the fact that his wife delivered. “Oh, god we’re old.” He walked over to the cart and held on to the edge staring at his wife. Her dark brown hair slipping out of the bun she kept it in on the top of her head. Her eyeliner smeared a little lower than her lower lashes, the deep brown of her eyes holding his heart in a beat. The t-shirt she wore hung loose over her full body, as her leggings hugged her hips. “I still love you even if you’re old.”

The soft smile that had come across her face now quickly snapped away as she glared daggers at him. “I swear to god old man!” She huffed. She was two years younger than him but he loved to tease her.

He smiled as she pushed the cart around him ignoring him try to grab her waist. He knew she wasn’t actually mad, but just loved seeing the faces she made when he pushed the right buttons. He walked behind her stepping closer and closer till his stomach pressed against her back, his arms wrapping around her rib cage pulling her closer into him. The warmth of her soft body comforting him. He leaned his face on the back of her head kissing her silently. “It’s okay old lady, I’ll help you cross the street.”

“OH my fucking god!” She turned quickly and slapped his chest playfully. She couldn’t hide her smile as it spread across her face. “You’re going to get us kicked out!”

           “No one’s even here.” He smiled playfully. Walking away from her to get back to reading his cans.

           He was right, Alice hadn’t heard anyone since they walked in. Not even any employees. She wondered if the store was closed and they had some how snuck in with out knowing. She pushed the cart a little bit forward trying to find the sound of anyone else in the store, there was no beeping of the check outs or any yelling of kids. The music that played over the speakers was a normal volume but it felt so empty in the building now that her attention was brought to it.  

           She turned to tap Mark on the shoulder trying not to let her active imagination take over but she was starting to freak out a bit. But before her hand reached him a cart turned the corner. The rush of adrenaline made Alice stand up straight and accidentally touch Mark who now looked up at the on coming company.

           The girl who rounded the corner was a sight to behold. She wore dark sunglasses that covered half her face, but her hair fell to one side of her head in dark blue and grey curls. Her lips were plumped to the max as they nearly touched her nose and seemed to be heavily glossed to pull all the attention they could get. The soft tan of her skin was brought out by the deep dark green top she wore that barely held in her over sized breasts. The top, if you could even call it that, plunged as if it was cut down the middle and cropped right under her breasts exposing her midriff. Her wide plush hips hugged tightly by a pair of white shorts that were unbuttoned exposing the plunge of her pelvic region. Her thick legs were completely exposed down to a low top white shoe. She turned and looked at the corner items reaching up to grab something from the very top, her shorts riding up higher on her round behind, the bottoms of her breasts peaking from under the crop top as she grabbed the item she needed. She brought it down and placed it in her once empty cart. She smiled at Alice and Mark before making her way between them.

           As she got close to Alice the tint of her glasses seemed to fade as she peered into Alice’s eyes winking softly before smiling once again and turning the corner of the isle and disappearing from view.

           Alice’s eyes darted to Mark’s face which was still pointed in the way that the woman left. She huffed, how could she walk around like that. She was practically naked and looked like some teenager had just sculpted his ideal fuck doll and let her loose on the public. Mark still hadn’t turned his face away from where she left, “Babe!” She snipped.

           Mark startled turned and looked at his wife who had her arms crossed across her humble chest. His mind had wandered to a very different world where that woman’s wonderfully plump lips were vacuumed around his thick throbbing dick. He cleared his throat trying to clear his mind at the same time, “Haha only in LA right babe?” He didn’t even look at her as he tried to turn to look at the labels again, try to distract himself from the thoughts that kept running through his mind. The stiffness that started to come into his now awakening cock making him shift his stance.

           “Did you like the way that bimbo looked?” Alice asked, her lips slipping a little on the word bimbo. She could see her husband roll his eyes in response. She couldn’t believe him, lusting after someone who looked like that. Her round fake tit- breasts, and those over plumped lips. But they did look super soft, she wondered what it would be like to kiss them. Her finger softly touching her lips which were tingling and felt like they needed to be rubbed. She softly ran her finger across her bottom lip, it felt bigger than before, maybe an allergic reaction or something. But it didn’t hurt or anything. It actually felt really good, like really fucking good. She let her finger slip in between her growing lips and into her mouth and let out a soft moan. Alice snapped back to reality, she didn’t know where her brain had slipped to but maybe she was just more tired than she thought. “I’m going to the bathroom, I think somethings wrong with my mouth.” She said as she held her hand over her mouth and walking towards the bathrooms at the front of the store.

           Mark worriedly walked with the cart quickly behind his wife as she seemingly ran off. She looked worried and distressed as her ass bounced away from him. Mark stopped in his tracks as he blinked, was that just him or did her butt seem bigger?

           Alice panicked as she pushed in the bathroom door, it was empty she ran to the closest mirror. Just as she thought, her lips had swollen to twice their original size and seemed to only be growing bigger. They look so audacious on her, and she was having trouble keeping her mouth closed now. She groaned as she grabbed her shirt trying to calm her self down. As she pulled the fabric over her breasts it sent a shock of pleasure across her body. Her nipples had never been that sensitive, that’s why she had often gone with out bras in the first place. Her breasts were barely B cups but now that she held them I her hands they felt so much bigger, so much softer, and so much better. She couldn’t help herself as she kept squeezing her soft huge tits.

           She looked just like that bimbo lady. Alice wondered what that lady felt like, how soft she was, how it would feel like if their tits were pressed against each other. How soft her lips must be to kiss. She wondered what she looked like naked, her big tiddies must be so perky. Alice lifted her shirt to get a glance at what her new tits looked like. Just a peek, no one was in the bathroom anyway and she need to see if they were just swollen. As she pulled her shirt over her head her big tits flopped out from under the fabric.

           Alice stood in awe of herself, her breasts were now bigger than her head and her nipples were now super puffy and looked like they needed to be pulled on. She wondered what they felt like, if they were still as sensitive as they had been earlier. She let her hands wander as they held the weight of her breasts. She had to use both hands to hold one. Pushing it up as she reached the nipple her nail grazing across the puffy areola making her shiver. “Mmmpf.” She moaned as she proceeded to drag her nails across her super sensitive skin. She watched herself play with her huge tits in the mirror, her hand reaching between her legs as her yoga pants seemed to be tightening in all the right places. She slipped her finger between her thick pussy lips feeling the line of her yoga pants rub against her clit. The immediate shock of pleasure made something in her brain just pop.

“Fuck.” She moaned, as she fell to her knees and felt her pants rip down the middle. Her soft pussy now exposed. She didn’t care what happened she needed to cum. She let her hand wander down to her newly freed pussy, feeing the warmth and wetness that came from it. Her finger sliding down her clit as it begged to be touched. The sharp wave of pleasure that came as soon as she touched it sent her spinning. She began to rub her clit her moans growing louder and louder as she started grinding her hips her holes now begging to be filled. She wanted to be fucked hard. She wanted to be used like a stupid bimbo slut by anyone who could fuck her. Her hand twisting and pulling on her hardened nipples causing her to scream out in pleasure, “Oh fuck, please fuck me. Fuck meee.” She begged as she put two fingers into her sopping wet pussy hole, her screams of ecstasy echoing in the empty bathroom.

Outside the doors Mark heard his wife moaning and yelling words he couldn’t understand. He knocked on the door calling for his wife unsure if she could hear him, his worry overtook him as he pushed in the door. He was met with the sight of a nearly naked woman her huge breasts gleaming in the florescent light as a puddle of juices formed under her exposed pussy. Her hand rubbing vigorously against her freed cunt as the another pressed in and out of it from behind. As he looked at the woman’s face and listened to her moans of pleasure he realized it was his wife. “Alice?” He quickly shut the bathroom door and locked it behind him.

She was too lost in making her self cum to realize he had stepped in and seen her in her lewd act. Her mouth held agape as her over sized lips begged to be fucked. He didn’t know how to act in this moment, seeing his wife in such a degenerate way. Her newly bimbofied body out for anyone to see and take advantage of. He stroked his now fully hard cock through his pants, trying to calm it down and keep a level head. Maybe she needed to go to the hospital, but she couldn’t be seen like this. Maybe after she finished she would be back to normal.

Alice made eye contact with her husband, her eyes completely glazed over as her tongue drooled outside of her mouth, there were no words that came from her as she begged him to fuck her face. He couldn’t deny her any longer as he undid his pants and pulled out his now throbbing cock. A thin stream of precum now leaking from the tip of it. As he got closer she instinctively licked it clean before letting him push it between her super over sized lips and deep into her throat. Her pussy tightening and spasming as her first orgasm over took her. Her eyes crossing as she pushed her mouth further down on his cock.

The over whelming scent of his cock making her ooze even more juices from her sopping wet pussy as she sucked hard on him. She couldn’t tell what felt better having his cock in her mouth or her fingers deep in her cunt. She didn’t care she just loved having both at the same time.

Her moans vibrating down Mark’s thick cock, he wasn’t sure if it was just how hot she looked doing it that made his cock extra hard and sensitive, but his cock seemed bigger between her new lips. His balls seemed to swell and grow with a new load ready to be released into her pleading throat. He grabbed the back of her head and forced his cock down her throat forcing her to touch the base of his dick and lick his balls as he shot his thick load deep into her. He pulled out just in time to let some of his cum ooze out over her drooling lips and down to her huge tits.

She panted as she felt her tits now covered in his thick hot cum. Her hands reaching for his cock as it throbbed still hard in front of her face. She pressed it against her face and then pushed on her knees to place it between her tits. She squeezed them together and began to rub his ever growing cock between them, licking his head and the never ending stream of precum that came out of the tip. The taste of his cum filling a craving deep with in her belly, but forming a new one with in her womb.

She wanted him deep in her pussy that was no longer being played with as he titty fucked her. The way she held her mouth open with her tongue held lazily over her plump lips a mix of drool and cum streaming down her throat as she panted. Her eye glazing over as they began to cross, his cock was hypnotizing her making her feel like he was fucking her tight cunt even though he was only between her huge soft tits.

But they both wanted more. Mark pulled Alice up by her shoulder, her body limp and eager for what ever it was she needed to do to please him. He lifted her by her hips forcing her to wrap her thick legs around his waist as he carried her to the nearest wall. Her arms dangled over his shoulders as he pressed her body into the cold stone, her muscles tensing from the sudden shift in temperature. Her large breasts bouncing into Marks face as he braced his body to hold her weight. He traced the opening of her soaked cunt with his cock making her moan and giggle as she begged for him to fuck her.

The soft squeak of her voice as his dick pushed passed her twitching clit and deep into her awaiting pussy ringing in Mark’s head making more of his precum leak out of his dick and slowly fill his wife’s hole. He wasn’t sure how long he would last but god was he going to enjoy it. He thrust deep into Alice, causing her to groan deeply as her tongue flopped back out of her mouth and her eyes crossed. Her body now limp as he fucked her hole. His thrusts making her lose more and more of her sanity as she felt her pussy swell with his ever leaking cum. Her hands grasped her face as she continued to moan incoherently.

She could feel every inch of his cock filling her up perfectly and every drip of his hot precum as it burned into her. She could almost feel the tip of his dick pressing against her cervix threatening to fill her womb with his seed. She wanted that more than anything right now. To be completely filled with his thick hot cum, and to be only used as his sex doll forever at the beck and call of his cock any time it got hard.

Seeing his wife in this state made it even harder for Mark to keep his composure, she was lost in her lustful ways. Her eyes completely glazed over and no longer looking at him, he could tell her mind was gone and she was nothing more now than a fucking sex doll made for nothing more than his cock. The way her pussy tightened around his dick almost milking it drew more and more of his precum into her insides. With every thrust her huge tits bounced perfectly, they looked even more like fake plastic tits that were bolted on now that they were covered in his cum and her drool. They caught the light perfectly and looked so fake, just like her lips which were still leaking drool as she moaned with each and every pump.

He couldn’t believe he was fucking his bimbo of a wife in the bathroom of a grocery store. He wondered what it would be like if the other bimbo walked in and joined them. He had enough cum for the both of them, he wanted to see them both with their fake tits out and making out over his cock. Hell, he didn’t even have to be touched but just the idea of their tits pressed against each other as they kissed each other, their drool leaking down their over filled lips and down their chests.

           “Fuck.” Mark growled as he pushed his cock further into Alice, her cervix now welcoming the tip of his cock. The tightness of it around his head sent him over the edge as he released his entire load deep into his wife’s womb. Her moans growing louder and louder as her pussy shook with an orgasm. Her body heating up from the center of her womb and sending shots of pleasure deep within her. Her hands digging into her over sized tits as her eyes rolled back into her head. She could feel her cervix tightening as it soaked up all of his cum. Her body completely numb and tingling as he let her down to her feet.

           Alice sat on the ground of the bathroom rubbing her lips and slowly running her finger against her pussy slit feeling his cum start to slowly ooze out of her. She had filled her purpose and was now waiting idly for him to use her again. A small smile growing across her face as her fingers grew braver and started to rub his cum against her sensitive clit.

           Mark leaned against the sinks trying to catch his breath as his wife sat against the wall molesting herself. He wiped his brow and did up his pants. Maybe she was really stuck like this forever. How was he supposed to explain this to her family? Her tits alone were too much to ignore but her lips and ass were just even more fuel for the fire that this would start.

           A sudden knock at the door startled them both, “Occupied!” Mark called panicking and searching for his wife’s shirt. The wheels in Alice’s mind finally starting to turn once again as she shot up and struggled to pull the fabric over her head. There was no hiding her body or her lips, but maybe at least wiping off the cum and drool would hide what they were doing.

           The knocking continued as she wiped her face down with paper towels and tried her hardest to pull her shirt down as far as it would go to cover up the rip in her yoga pants.

           Mark stood in shock as he watched his wife sudden snap back to reality and move silently as she cleaned herself up, the worry in her face bringing his attention to the rip between her legs. Her shirt was long enough, but hopefully there was no wind.

           They stared at each other in silence as they gestured at the door. No plan could be formulated. Alice still needed to fix her self some but Mark was good to go. She pushed him to the door as she hid in one of the stalls. “I’ll go as soon as they get in.” She whispered before shutting the stall door.

           Mark clenched his teeth before opening the door unsure of what he would find on the other side. If it was the manager a simple, “wrong door, had to really go” excuse might not work. As the door moved past his face a familiar face greeted him. That woman from before. She no longer had the sunglasses on, and her soft round eyes looked up at him in a bit of confusion.

           Her plump lips parted as she asked, “I heard screaming is everything okay?”

           “Yeah, sorry about that,” Mark stammered making his way around her and allowing her to see inside the empty looking bathroom, “my wife tore her pants and we weren’t sure how… to get out of the store decently.”  He wasn’t truly lying, he stood to the side holding open the door for her.

           “Oh no that’s awful! I really wish I could help.” She pouted as she entered the bathroom.

           “Yeah but I think her shirt should cover most of it, we just need to get to the car.” Mark laughed awkwardly unable to make eye contact with the woman he had just fantasized about while his cock was breaking into his wife’s womb.

           “Oh that’s good.” She smiled at him.

           Alice could over hear them chatting and was already as cleaned up as she could be. She wasn’t sure who was at the door but know she needed to leave as soon as possible. She opened the stall door and caught they eyes of the blue haired girl. Her heart stopped as she saw her.

           The blue haired girl smiled slyly, “No, you can’t tell at all. Your shirt is long enough. Though with a body like that you really should show it off more.” She winked, walking closer to Alice and pushing her body behind hers. “Some people might call you a bimbo, but like,” Alice felt the blue haired girl’s finger slide down her pussy slit, “we are what we are.”

[castawxayaway]

tinted vision

No. 52: “I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

this is actually a combination of a request from a few days ago and one of the many prompts requested by @captivatedby-captainswan a lot of fluff tonight, I know it is a bit later than anticipated, but hopefully worth the wait! 

if you want to see the list for yourself and maybe request one *nudge nudge* feel free to!

prompt list / collection of my writing / requests open

oh! I forgot to say, I made a twitter (a second one) for bastille stuff. not sure if I’ll use it but if you want to follow and await something idek what its @icarus_cat but if you want to stalk my pathetic life and what I do follow my main twitter @catherine_edss :)

Slowly walking around my flat I can hear them all getting ready whilst I impatiently ponder about what our trip to London would entail. “Are you almost ready? We should’ve left five minutes ago now if we want to get there on time!” Trying to conceal the irritation in my voice I yell to them, receiving shouts of ‘five minutes’ back from my two friends. 

After an additional five minutes and over analysing my appearance they both rush down the stairs, standing before me with flushed cheeks. “Let’s roll.” Elysia cheered as she opened the front door, trying her best to get into the birthday spirit. 

Once we near the beloved restaurant I brush down my dress and clear my throat, knowing Kyle would be hanging around waiting and always commented on how presentable I should look. To expect the expected as we turn the corner there he is, leaning against the wall scrolling through his phone, totally oblivious to his sister and girlfriend. “Earth to Kyle?” I wave my hand in front of his face and only then does he lift his head, smiling. 

“Alright sis?” He asks, greeting me with a warm embrace. Glancing over his shoulders I see another figure, one that turns my blood cold. 

His overly drawn out blue eyes, the contrasting shades that melt hearts yet makes mine frozen. He raises an eyebrow to the sight of me, he didn’t expect to see me here either. “What is he doing here?” I mutter to Kyle who sighs loudly, clearly frustrated over the never ending hatred that has been standing between me and Dan for, well a long time. 

Holding me at arm’s length he tries to use his chirpy smile to distract me, yet his smile remains concealed in amongst his facial hair whilst mine sinks at the sight of him. “Look, you don’t have to acknowledge each other, just be nice.” Clicking his fingers in front of my face I lock eyes with him. “For Elysia, it is her birthday after all.” I could see the pleading look in his eyes, he still tries his hardest to impress her after two years. 

Nodding in agreement I turn back to see my friends standing a few meters back, hesitant to see what remarks ought to be thrown between me and Dan. Exhaling, I walk over to them muttering how it was going to be okay. That today I wouldn’t let him get under my skin, I would deal with his presence. 

Walking inside he tried to step in before me, the smirk that he wore as if it were a natural expression that occurred when I was around, how my blood boiled. Stepping inside after him I clenched my fists, only to have Elysia tap me on the shoulder, giving me a look of desperation. I smile back to her, trying to convince her I’ll manage, it’s a few hours. He’ll be there, but I don’t have to interact with him. 

Sitting down I see the seat opposite remains empty, a wave of relief washes through my system and I can feel Elysia squeeze my hand. “Sorry they told me they needed that setting.” He mumbled to Kyle as he now sat down, directly opposite me. 

I could tell he was enjoying this, he always liked seeing me suffer in his presence. “How’re you Dan, doing well?” Sarcasm drips off of my voice, it always did with him. 

He rested his elbows on the table and tilts his head to me, leaning in closer and closer, trying to break through my barriers. “I’m doing swell.” It didn’t matter what he said, how charming he acted to the waiters I would scoff, try and distract myself, do anything but acknowledge him. 

“For once,” Kyle sighed loudly as he pointed between the two of us. “can you not hate each other this much? I want a nice afternoon to celebrate my girlfriend’s birthday.” The sternness in his voice increased along with the harsh look in his eyes as he acted like Dad would when we would argue as children, how the tables have turned. 

I complied, ignoring Dan but mumbled into my drink, “Just saying he doesn’t have to be here. He is the one with the pity invite.” Smiling as I sipped at my drink I glanced up to him, seeing his jaw clench I rested back into my chair, satisfied with my efforts so far to annoy him further. Elysia gave me a look and I shrugged my shoulders, “I said I’d try.” I comment as she rolls her eyes, focusing back on Kyle as he holds her hands in his. 

“One day you two will realise you don’t hate each other at all, and you’re secretly in love.” Kyle jokes and the others start laughing whilst me and Dan exchange a look of disgust, utter and complete distaste for each other in agreement. 

“You’d have to kill me if that ever happens.” I remark whilst Dan downs his drink, his form of response less dignified.

*

Walking along the streets of unknown roads I could see the grey clouds looming, only becoming darker and more menacing with each passing minute. As I picked up my pace trying to search for a sight, something I would recognise it all clicks into place. Only as it clicks into place I notice a few drops in the river, followed by a wave of them and my back to absorb it all as it trickles through my fabric and freeze my flesh. 

Picking my jacket off of my skin I wrap it tighter around myself as I keep my head down, trying not to get drenched entirely. Looking around I shrug it off, knowing that there is no where else my feet can lead me. I walk up the four steps, only having done this once before but I remember the distinct old fashioned doorknob, the engravings of details that I couldn’t help but admire as I waited for him to answer- well to hopefully answer. 

Trying to conceal my shivers I hear the locks go inside, then the creaking of the door and a shadowed corridor reveals itself. Peering round the corner his eyes go wide with confusion behind his glasses, something that takes me back- I didn’t know he wore glasses. He raised an eyebrow as I stood in silence, me being the last person he would want nor expect to see standing at his front door. “Look,” I sigh. “I know I am probably the last person you want to see,” Glancing around I kick myself mentally for having to say this, to have to interact with him. “my phone is dead, I am soaked through and I’m pretty sure I will get hypothermia if I try and stay out here wandering around London.” His eyes roam up and down my figure, seeing how my clothes uncomfortably stuck to me and the pure pain in my face about this situation. 

I could see him considering it, contemplating closing the door on my face and leaving me out in the cold, but I knew he wasn’t that cold hearted. He licked his lips and quietly sighed before opening the door. “Wait here a minute, I’ll go get you something to warm up.” Stepping inside I could hear my shoes squelching, completely soaked through as puddles formed around me, distorting the woodwork. 

Watching him walk away something seemed different. His attitude wasn’t as sly, his attire wasn’t the same. The usual suffocatingly skinny black jeans were replaced by loose joggers, his t shirts that differ between three dark shades are swapped for a cosy hoodie- something I would love right about now.

As he came back he held up a large black dressing gown and a few towels for me. Placing them down on the counter to his left he offered to help me take my coat off, I gratefully accepted despite the tension and obvious awkwardness between the two of us. We’ve never been this nice to one another, let alone on someone else’s account. His hands gently glided across the tops of my shoulders, gripping onto the fabric as it was a matter of pulling actions to free me from the confinement. 

Once freed, I turned back to face him, this version that I wasn’t used to. The silence returns, neither of us wanting to speak first. I make the first move, picking the things up from the side and he acts accordingly. “Erm, bathroom is upstairs, first right.” He spoke with a low tone as the storm only rose outside. Thanking him with the same amount of softness I walked into the bathroom, surprised at the neatness of his belongings. 

Picking up his aftershave I sniffed it lightly, goosebumps instantly prickled across my arms and legs, but it might be because I’m cold. No, it is because I’m cold, that’s all. I carefully place it back in the exact same spot where the ring from the base is, not stepping it out of line in the slightest. Moving away I turn the shower on, seeing the steam instantly collide with the air, floating in circles as it swiftly dances towards the window wanting to be at one with the outside world, with the harshness rather than the gently, the delicate protection of the indoors. 

Standing under the shower I felt vulnerable, I was in Dan’s home. Someone I barely know, who I hate, who I’ve hated for years, but why? I stand under the shower for longer than need be, the warmth having seeped into my system a few minutes ago I feel like I can contemplate it all in here. Despite the fogged room it feels clearer than anywhere else. Here I can think, I can reflect and see things play out in the steam. Everywhere else there is no filter, it is what it is. 

Abruptly I turn the shower off, wanting to rid the steam and the images I see occurring. I see him, I see this version of him and, and I like it. The hesitation as opposed to the usual brashness. Comfort rather than coldness. Inviting, not off putting. What is happening? As I stand in front of the mirror it remains covered in a thick layer of possibilities, lifting my index finger I draw what comes to mind, I swirl my name across and see it drip down, revealing small parts of myself. I see my shoulder, I see the freckles and the spots, I see someone with a fresh face and tinted cheeks. I see someone who is afraid to be honest with herself, I see a new side to me. 

The longer I stand here, the more I dry the feeling off, but yet it lingers. I see the steam vanish, taking the images with it into the thunderstorm. How ironic, that every sweet image is being destroyed into a storm, just like every conversation we have ever had. 

As I dry off I try to reflect over why we hate each other, if this is what can be labelled as hatred. I remember him coming to the house once when Kyle came home, telling us about this band he was in. Kyle had such high hopes, I could see it and feel it in his hug, the type that was too tight but held so much emotion you couldn’t let go. He walked through the door, seemingly afraid to speak up or make eye contact with any of us. I think I laughed to myself about the height of his hair at the time, now having been tamed more yet I laughed because I had never seen someone so true to themselves. It was unique to him, now he has become more generic, less enticing. Looking back there was no conflict between us, I can’t see a moment for us to have never gotten on. 

Shrugging it off I hear him call up, asking if I’m alright. Again, something he has never asked me, ever. Opening the door marginally I shout down to him, “I’ll be down shortly!” Taking the dressing gown I slip it on, the arms immediately being three times too long, but it is at a comfortable length at my ankles. It feels like I’m wearing some poorly designed dress, but a cosy one at that as the fibres warm up against my bare skin and prevent my dripping hair soaking through. Quickly, I towel dry my hair, clear up and walk down the stairs. 

As I hover on the bottom step I can hear him singing to himself, no radio, no music, only him. Standing still I take the time to actually hear him, not with the support of anything else, only the kettle boiling. I smile to myself as he hits the higher notes, the passion I can hear being forced into each lyric. “Enjoying the performance?” Snapping out of my daze he leans over the railing with a slight smile whilst the colour rushes to my cheeks, pricking them lightly. 

“You aren’t too bad.” I tell him with a smile before following him through to the kitchen where he makes some tea which we take into the living room. 

Sitting down with him on his sofa feels weird, yet at the same time normal in these circumstances. Again, neither of us sure what to say first. “Thank you,” I mutter, only wanting to fill the void. “for letting me come in. I know I’m the last person you’d want to see.” The rain lashes down outside, the day closing with no sign of returning as the clouds darken and the thunder continues to rumble. 

Dan clears his throat before putting his tea down and faces me, his glasses slightly fogged causing me to chuckle and a smile to appear on him. “It’s no problem. I’m surprised you remembered where I live, I mean it’s been awhile since you last came.” I nod in agreement as I play with the ends of my hair as a distraction. 

“About two years, I think? Even then I barely came inside. I remembered the unique doorknob.” Immediately I internally groan, realising how stupid it sounds aloud. 

He chuckled, made me feel more at ease. “I know what you mean, something to remember and all.” We resumed our previous actions, sipping at our cups of tea and listening to the intensity of the rain rise like the anxiety in the pit of my stomach. Saying my name lightly I lift my head up to see him wearing a cautious look, “You can stay here tonight, only if you want.” I could feel the pit rising up into my chest, I tried to take a deep breath but the beating of my hard clogged it, preventing it from happening. “Only if you want to.” He placed his hand on top of mine which I simply stared at, wide eyed. 

Going between his eyes and his hands both of us were confused, neither of us completely understanding the need for such an action. “Dan,” I ask quietly, not sure how to approach the topic. “why do we hate each other so much?” It wasn’t the sort of question that had an obvious answer, yet slowly he withdrew his hand from on top of mine, taking the warmth with it. 

“If I’m honest with you, I don’t know.” He paused, pushing his glasses back up as they slipped down his nose, revealing the brightness in his eyes even in the dark setting. “Part of me assumed you just resented me from day one, and I went with it.” 

“But I don’t remember anything happening, besides,” Pausing everything clicks into place, I can see it so clearly as I zone out into the blank wall opposite me and the sound of the rain increases as Dan’s voice is muffled. “Luke.” 

Luke, my first ‘love.’ “Luke, I remember him.” The distaste lingered in his voice as if he wasn’t able to get rid of it, that is exactly what Luke was like. 

“He told me to stay away from you, as you were deceiving.” I scoff, thinking back to how naive I was, I’d believe anything he’d say as I wanted what we had to be real. I wanted to believe that more than anything, I was young and thought that was love. If only I knew what I knew now. “So I did, I guess even after we broke up it stayed.” 

“Wait,” He speaks up, breaking the pause. “you two, you two broke up?” Pure confusion crosses his face again yet I wear the same look for differing reasons. 

“You didn’t know? Kyle never told you?” I lift my legs up, covering them with the dressing gown as I sit directly facing him. He puts his tea down and does the same, both of us fully focusing on one another. 

He shakes his head, “If I knew I’d of,” I can see him pause, stop for words. “nevermind.” He doesn’t finish, he shrugs it off. 

But I can’t. “You’d of? What?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me. 

Now he can’t look at me, the focus that he held less than a minute ago has become absent. It feels as if we are hovering between hate and like, him now jolting back to old habits, a way we both shut off. “I would’ve said something sooner to you about how I felt, alright?” He speaks too quickly with frustration, barely giving me time to process it. 

Sitting still I blink rapidly, my eyes focusing on the mixed emotions written across his face. The pit in my stomach resumes its normal place, never comfortable whilst my heart races, I’m sure he can see it beating through the dressing gown as it pounds through my ears cutting out the storm. “And,” Clearing my throat I try to remain calm, unsure how to at this point as I ponder over his response before I can even ask. 

“I like you.” He states, “I’ve liked you for so long. I’ve just never known how to react about it. For months I’ve known, Kyle has known. Hence why I’m around more, not to annoy you, but to try and get you to like me back.” Taking his glasses off he rubs his eyes, clearly irritated by the entire thing. “Never before have I ended up so hung up on someone, or had these kind of mixed feelings, okay?” Putting his glasses back on I can see the combination in his eyes, the care rimmed with fear. 

Edging closer towards him I pick up his left hand, placing it in my lap as a distraction for myself more than him. “Luke distorted my outlook on you, and I think I only started seeing you a few months ago.” I knew I had, I just kept up the facade, the feeling of hate towards him when really my heart would flutter. “You kept on hating me, so I kept on hating you.” Laughing to myself I realise how stupid we’ve been all along. “I tried to do so much for Luke, I changed for him. He liked me looking a certain way but I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t me.” Reflecting over the rough time I can feel his hand on my cheek, warmth flowing through it radiating into me. 

“I wouldn’t change a thing about you, ever. You, simply being you is enough. You’re the person who goes out of their way for others. The sort of person who can’t admit they need help when they are so desperate.” He knows it all, he knew it all as it happened. “But I didn’t know what to do to help, so I let it happen.” He sighs, shaking his head as regret hangs heavy on his shoulders. “I should’ve helped you, I’m so sorry.” 

A small sincere smile forms on my face as I whisper his name, making the large room feel small in the storm. “Neither of us really knew what was happening.” I mutter, knowing it is true. “Maybe we can make this work, whatever this might end up being.” He lifts his head, potential replaces the fear, potential for what this could be. 

“I’d like that a lot. I’m tired of having the heaviness of fake hatred on my conscience. For once, I’d like to be selfish and have you in my life.” Uncrossing his legs he makes room on the sofa for me to lie next to him. 

Moving I lean against him, wrapped up in his arms at peace in the harsh storm. “Thank you Dan,” Glancing up to him I see the real him, the genuine person wearing glasses and offering a girl a place to stay in the storm. “for all of this and what is to come.” 

I lean back, resting against him as the storm only continues to beat against the windows, but for once I feel at peace. I’m safe from the harsh reality outside, as in here, inside and securely comforted in his arms I am living a dream. One I hope I don’t stop having any time soon.