#ever since i learned what away-jerseys were i was like “fuck i have to draw them again but correct”

[avocadoraisin]

I love Youppi he is friend-shaped to me

[corralinesage]

Learning you by heart (15/?)

One more chapter after this!! 🤭

Chapter 15: Here and now

“Where’s the body?” Wanda walked into the more open space in Natasha’s living room, her hands crackling with red, sparks appearing alongside a faint scarlet glow around her irises.

“I burned it behind a dumpster in New Jersey.” Their eyes met, Wanda’s wide from shock.

“Fuck… Natasha.” There was a hint of chastise in Wanda’s tone and for a good reason.

“Not my proudest moment.” Natasha shrugged.

“That’s-” Wanda was struggling to find any kinds of words for the information she had just received. “Must’ve been awful.”

“Just another kill.” Natasha’s voice was heavy, her grim features countering her words rather heavily, but Wanda didn’t comment. Natasha’s life had gone astray badly enough to not need any reminders of or judgement over what she had had to do to achieve it all.

“I think it’s best we get going then. There’s nothing here for us anymore.” Wanda looked apologetic as she raised her hands up.

“Take me home�� please.” Natasha looked tormented, her hand clutching the Polaroid picture of you. “I…” Her voice disappeared as she nearly broke down.

“It’s okay, Natasha. I got you now.” Wanda changed her stance, preparing herself to go through the effort of creating a portal. A large abrasion ripped into the air in front of them, but it disappeared just as quickly as Wanda had created it.

There was a knock at the door, both of their heads turning in the direction of the sound before flitting quickly at the other’s face to make sure they had both heard it. Wanda dropped her hands, the red glow disappearing immediately, Natasha turning toward the door expectantly as if it might just open on its own. They looked at each other again, the corner of Wanda’s lips drawing up into a slight smile. Natasha looked hopeful, but there was also fear mixed into that expression on her face. She didn’t have it in her to believe that it was you behind that door, yet it was all she was hoping for. Wanda’s hand touched Natasha’s arm, nudging her gently toward the door.

“Don’t forget what you can have”, Wanda’s words tugged at Natasha’s chest, her heart racing as she walked to the front door of her variant’s apartment, her hand finding the doorknob and twisting it slowly. She almost couldn’t believe that you were standing there, eyes bloodshot like it hadn’t been all that long since you had stopped crying, Wanda standing beside you. Natasha opened the door wider, hearing her Wanda’s footsteps behind her.

“Hi.” Natasha wanted to pull you into her arms, her body yearning to feel your own, to squeeze you tightly enough to ensure you could never slip away from her again.

“Hi.” Your voice was timid, wary of the fact that you crawling back to her might not have been as welcome as you were hoping it to be. Your eyes flitted down to the floor briefly before coming up to Natasha’s face, but your words got caught in your throat when Wanda emerged into the doorway. Your eyes widened in shock, your jaw dropping rather comically. You looked at Wanda beside you, grasping her hand as if to test if she was still right there beside you and as real as ever. Wanda was less shocked by her variant’s presence than you were, but she still seemed rather astonished by what she was seeing, her shock sidelined by curiosity. The disbelief on your face was evident yet all you could do was believe your own perception and the very reality that you were witnessing as your gaze went back to the doppelgänger of your roommate and best friend. “You were telling the truth”, you gasped quietly.

“I would never lie to you, not if I might lose you because of it”, Natasha whispered, smiling gently, your eyes itching with tears.

“Sort this out”, Wanda said from behind Natasha, her attention shifting to her variant. “You and I need to talk.” Your Wanda looked rather taken aback but she nodded in agreement immediately, letting go of you and allowing you to go inside Natasha’s apartment as both Wandas went into the hallway. You stared after them through the door that Natasha closed between you and them, only moving into the living room when Natasha’s hand brushed over your forearm as if wishing to grab your hand, but she let go before she could reach your wrist. A small, hopeful smile found your lips as you followed her to the couch. You took a seat on the cushions, recalling your tipsy night there, your eyes threatening to itch with tears again. It was now or never. You could have more of those moments, infinitely more, if you just managed to trust her and undo the damage that you had done by lashing out on her.

“I guess I should start off with an apology”, you hummed, still quite shaken from having witnessed two of Wanda. “I- I don’t know what got into me.”

“I don’t blame you, dorogaya (darling). I know it’s beyond the comprehension of many.” You nodded at her words, glad to know that she was understanding.

“I was cruel.” You couldn’t even look at her, still struggling to wrap your mind around everything. It felt like you were missing bits and pieces of the fight, of the thoughts that had been regurgitating in your mind all night.

“You were reacting”, Natasha said placatingly.

“I shouldn’t have said a lot of the things I did.”

“Maybe not”, she hummed, placing her hand on your knee in an attempt to make contact with you. “But you’re here now.” Your eyes rose up to meet hers, your gaze wary, longing.

“I am.”

“What does that mean?” You could tell that she was asking in all earnest. She didn’t want to get her hopes up and start to imagine that any kind of a happy ending was even remotely in her reach.

“I don’t know”, you whispered weakly, unsure of what to say or how to continue from the fallout you two had had.

“What made you come here?” Natasha’s stomach ached, her heart hammering in her chest from anxiety. She could not take any more.

“You. I can’t seem to stay away.” You let out a slight chuckle as if in an attempt to bring levity into the situation, but it did little to coax a smile on Natasha’s face. You remained silent for a while, sorting through the thoughts in your head. You felt your throat squeeze shut, your head aching from your sleepless night. “I think I’m in love with you.” Natasha couldn’t react to your words. She couldn’t receive them. She couldn’t let her heart be torn apart once more. She had nothing more left to give.

“Don’t say that.” Your heart sank. “I’m leaving.” She stared into the interior of the house, ignoring your tormented face on purpose. Your heart started hammering in your chest ruthlessly, your lungs feeling empty, drained of the air that you couldn’t seem to breathe no matter how you tried.

“No.” Natasha’s head turned to look at you at the sound of your pained voice as if to make sure she had heard right. “No, no- You can’t.” You sounded teary, the lump in your throat preventing you from articulating clearly, your hands reaching for her own.

“There’s nothing here for me. It’s all a distant mockery of what I’ve lost”, Natasha mumbled, shaking her head in defeat.

“I’m here”, you whimpered, your hands squeezing her forearm even tighter.

“I can’t trust that it’ll work.”

“Natasha.” You could not believe your ears after all the effort you had put into figuring out your feelings.

“I’m going. I don’t belong here.”

“Yes, you do.” You felt helpless. “What about all the weeks we spent together? Did they mean nothing to you?” Your eyes were filled with sorrow and pain.

“They did and they do, but I have no fight left in me. I can’t risk it. This might be my only ticket home.” She nodded her head as if agreeing with herself and choosing to fully carry through with her decision.

“No! No, you do not get to do that!” You suddenly sprung up from the couch, unable to control the jumbled-up feelings inside you. “You do not get to come here and make me fall in love with you, only for you to leave me at the first bit of hesitance you sense.”

“Y/N”, Natasha began in a quiet, weary tone, but you interrupted her.

“I’m allowed to be careful!” You looked exasperated, your lower lip trembling, chest heaving with your heavy inhales.

“Y/N”, she tried again rather calmly. “I love you more than anything. Losing you for a second time will kill me.” She sighed softly to herself. “We can never work.”

“No-” Your tone was close to begging.

“I was foolish to think that I had a place here, that I could love you how I loved you before.” Natasha looked devastated, her bloodshot eyes and blotchy skin truly emphasizing her pain. “I don’t expect you to understand.” You seemed to calm slightly down at her words as you sat back down on the couch beside her, closer than before, your hand finding her own again.

“Then help me understand. Maybe you don’t have to love me the way you used to. Maybe we can figure it out as we go”, you suggested carefully, mindful of overstepping her boundaries after nearly exploding on her once again. “Tell me more about myself, about us, all of it. I can’t understand if you don’t give me a chance to.” Natasha knew from the look in your eyes that you were seriously asking to be included in her complicated situation. There was logic to your words. Why reach for the unreachable when she could reach for something more realistic, something perhaps just as good in its own way?

“You’ve seen the Vengeance franchise.” Natasha shrugged, an amused smile on her lips, her hand finally responding to your touch. The familiar names of the superheroes crossed your mind, reminding you of the fact that you shared a name with one of them. “The name is not just a coincidence… Of course, you’re played by an actress who can’t quite match your beauty.” She was giving in, slowly melting under your touch. She was willing to hear you out and try for one more time. You looked at Natasha in disbelief, unsure how you should respond as you gasped quietly.

“You’re telling me I’m a superhero?” You felt a smile tug at your lips at such a ridiculous statement.

“Heroes of the world”, Natasha recited a line from the movie. “Not only a superhero, but my hero, as sappy as it sounds.” You looked at each other. “You saved me from myself. You made me human again.” She bit her lip to avoid smiling too widely.

“The… you’re in the movies too.” You barely had any words. “There’s a kiss in the third one.” It sounded crazy, it sounded insane, but you couldn’t deny the similarities of the characters in the movies and the two of you. The actors looked alike to some extent, and many other features and characteristics mirrored you and Natasha’s, maybe even the dynamic to some extent.

“That kiss started it all”, Natasha whispered, her smile not enough to hide the tears she had to wipe away. “The movies aren’t hundred percent accurate, and painful to get through, but they’ve got some truth to them.” You took a moment to take in all that she was saying, recalling the battles between aliens, the characters, the events, all of it.

“I was pretty badass”, you hummed almost playfully, thinking about the character that you had always thought of as a fun and admittedly interesting person. You had been an incredibly skilled spy and sniper in another universe. You had been a righteous warrior who had saved countless lives, including that of the woman beside you. You had worn a black suit with violet accents that glowed like stars in the sky. You had been perhaps snarkier, tougher, more ruthless than you could ever imagine yourself being in your own reality, but you had also been just as loving and caring toward your loved ones as you were in your own reality. You had had mean fists and a thirst for justice like no other, paired with incredible skills with all kinds of guns. No other sniper could quite reach your level.

“Oh, you were.” Natasha nodded her head, a fond look on her face, a confident, knowing smirk finding her lips. “You were truly badass.” You both remained quiet for a moment as you let the information sink in further. Natasha looked away from you as memories filled her mind. No matter how much you were there beside her, she was still in such immense pain whenever she remembered you as her wife that she could not bear to look at you. It wasn’t hard to sense the emotionally charged demeanor that Natasha was wrapped up in, but you decided to approach it gently despite any hesitation you might have felt. You moved your hand up from her arm to her cheek, cupping it gently to guide her face to yours, her jade eyes locked with your own.

“Tell me more?” Your voice was nothing but a whisper. Natasha searched your eyes, searched her own emotions regarding the situation and regarding you before opening her mouth again.

“Your mother was a hunter.” There was a storytelling quality in the way she spoke. “Which I’m sure you remember from the movies. You learned to shoot with precision before you learned to properly read. You always had steady hands.” She nodded her head, looking at you for a moment, allowing herself to admire your beauty as her eyes ran over every part of your face. “By the time you were in your late teens you were probably one of the best shooters the country had seen, except nobody knew you, nobody knew about your existence outside of the little cottage you and your mother inhabited.” She let out a long sigh before being able to continue. “That was until your mother died. Your anger and sadness made you seek for an outlet. You needed a way to make a living and fortunately for you, or rather unfortunately in many ways, you got caught in the middle of the alien invasion on Manhattan.” You nodded your head. That was in the movies. “You picked up a discarded gun and joined the fight without anyone asking you to. It was Maria who eventually realized what was going on.” She leaned a little bit closer to you, your body painfully aware of the fact that you weren’t fully pressed up against one another in a way that would have left you satisfied.

“Toward the end of the battle, you got shot in the calf. It was a flesh wound. I told you to drop out of the fight and leave because you as a civilian were only going to be in the way –I was a bit defensive back then– but you never listened.” She chuckled at the memories. “As long as you could shoot, you were of use. That’s what you told me.” She laughed again. “I couldn’t understand what kind of a lunatic civilian would be crazy enough to take on an alien invasion, but then I saw how good you were, even when injured. You shot down aliens one after another from your hiding place. It was incredible.” Your eyes were wide with wonder as you listened to her intently, unwilling to miss a single word. “After the battle, Fury demanded to know your identity, so that we could all thank you appropriately. You were asked to join the Avengers and things were never the same after.”

“The Avengers? That name is way better than the Vengeance league”, you snickered quietly. “Oh wow, what a story.” Natasha smiled brightly, pleased that you were taking the entire situation seriously and actually listening to her. “But what about us? How did we… fall for each other?” Your eyes couldn’t help but to dip down to Natasha’s lips, your body longing to be closer to her, to touch her and feel her.

“You fell first. It took me a while to realize that I was even feeling any kind of way. I tried to hide behind layers upon layers of snark and witty banter, and even went as far as taking distance from you before I finally managed to look myself in the eye and realize that you were not just a teammate, but something more.” Your gut churned with butterflies as you recalled the feeling of falling for her. You wanted to get closer to her, your thumb stroking her wrist carefully. “You were always so gentle with me. It was jarring to someone who had only ever been treated with violence.” You felt your eyes itch with tears. It was unfair, all of it, both you and her situation.

“In a very heartbreaking way, that’s rather beautiful. I’m glad I could do that for you”, you whispered, glancing down at her hands, your touch reaching up to her forearms to feel more of her. Natasha smiled gently, her eyes moving down to your joint hands before coming up to your face again.

“You’re doing it right now.” Her voice could barely carry loudly enough for you to hear. “You’re being gentle with me.” Her hand responded to the touch of your own, caressing your fingertips back in the same manner as you did. You didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t really do anything other than keep touching her. “Whenever I was angry beyond reason as a result of a battle or a dispute with the people in charge, or my friends, you would come to me, and you would be gentle with me.” She sniffled, pursing her lips to hide how affected she was by the memory, by the parallel. “I couldn’t stay angry when you touched me like this.” She moved her hand a little more to clarify what she was referring to. “When you spoke reason to me in soft whispers.”

“Kind of like now”, you mused, smiling gently.

“Kind of like now”, she agreed in a small nod, her heart aching worse than it ever had at the thought of leaving you behind.

“You were always the voice of reason for me. You made me see what life had to offer…” She sounded wistful, and at that moment you felt like a hint of the clarity was extended to you. She sounded truly in love, but it wasn’t directed at you. She was talking about someone else.

“Were.” You sounded bitter to your own ear despite not meaning to, but you couldn’t help the feelings of jealousy toward your alternate self.

“What?” Natasha turned to look at you, her brows furrowing.

“How could I ever compete?” You looked at her with a heartbroken expression of realization on your face. “Natasha. I’m not her. I’ll never measure up to her.” She looked away from you, her smile wiped away from her face. It was an impossible situation. There was no winning.

“It won’t be the same. I know that. I’ve always known that, which is why it’s perhaps for the best if we end it here.” Every ounce of pain that shone on Natasha’s face countered her words, but she couldn’t help but to try to protect you. “It’ll hurt the least this way.” She shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head in defeat as she pulled away from your touch. “It was just a fling.” It felt wrong to voice out such blatant lies, your face falling into a desperate frown.

“Don’t say that. Please, Natasha, don’t say that.” You felt your tears spill against your own will. “You can’t say that”, you sobbed, unable to control your emotions anymore, your hands reaching for hers again. She couldn’t let go of you. You would not be able to take it.

“I have to.” She wouldn’t let you touch her. “It’s the only way I can still go back home.”

“You don’t have to go back. You can stay here with me.” You leaned closer, cupping her cheeks to make her look at you. “Stay here with me, baby.” You held her face gently, Natasha’s heated cheeks damp against your palms. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t resist your face.

“But what if it doesn’t work out? What if it’s just more pain?” Natasha’s eyes glistened with tears that pooled at her lash lines. She was broken and beaten down, and it was more evident than ever.

“What if it does?” Your faces were mere inches apart, eyes searching the other’s. “What if it all works out?” Natasha could feel your breath brush over her chin. “I don’t have to be like her. You don’t have to be who you were. We can just be us. Here and now.” Your eyes were wide with anticipation, begging her to hear you out. Natasha’s eyelids fluttered shut as she tried to make sense of her screaming mind. She didn’t know what to do, torn between two, torn by her pain and her search for comfort and security. “I can be exactly what you need.” Your whisper brought goosebumps to her skin, her muscles melting under your touch as she leaned forward. She paused, hesitating for a moment before she pressed her mouth to your own.

You kissed her irritated lips that were hot and salty from her tears, swallowing each little whimper that escaped her. You pulled her closer, sucking on her plump top lip that often gave her a slight pout, your mouths fitting together as well as they always did. Your chest felt light and airy, full of relief despite knowing that it wasn’t all over yet. Her kiss might very well have been a goodbye kiss, but you were going to take it nonetheless because her hot mouth against your own felt better than life ever had. You didn’t care to breathe. You didn’t care. All you wanted were her lips, her hands at your waist, her warm cheeks against your palms. Neither of you deepened the kiss, keeping it tame and gentle, but the underlying passion was hard to shove aside. Her lips were rough and needy, kissing you fervently as if to savor every last bit of you to ensure that it lasted her a lifetime, lasted all the way to another reality. You pecked her lips a few times as you tried to find enough self-restraint to pull away from her to breathe. The chaste kisses made her smile, her teary eyes fluttering open to see your face.

“I want you. Just you”, she mumbled gently, her eyes flitting down to your lips. “I don’t need you to be anyone else. I fell in love with you.” You could feel your lips tug into a smile, your thumbs swiping over her reddened cheeks as her face fell. “But I’m scared.” You could barely hear the words.

“So am I”, you whimpered, swallowing back your sob. “But you know w-what I heard from my version of a woman I know you appreciate greatly?” Natasha chuckled at your wording, sniffling quietly.

“What?” You both had tears streaming down your faces as you held each other close.

“Life is scary.” Natasha huffed out a laugh. “Love is scary.”

“She’s right about that”, she moaned softly, casting her gaze down, shaking her head in disbelief over the entire situation. You guided her chin up, your eyes moving down to her lips before you leaned back into a kiss. It was wet and messy, but loaded with an unbelievable amount of emotion, your lips pressing together with bruising intensity that you both hoped would convey your affection and admiration toward the other. The kiss grew heated the more desperation started to seep into it, your hands leaving Natasha’s face to tug her even closer to you by her waist and her arms and any part of her you could reach, her hand moving to the back of your head to guide the kiss. You felt dizzy from all the crying you had done, the passionate kiss swiping you off your feet. You felt her tongue caress the seam of your lips, Natasha asking to deepen the kiss, but you pulled away before allowing her access.

“You have to promise me that we’re in this together”, you said in a watery tone. “I need to know that if we get into a fight, or things get hard, you won’t disappear out of my reach.”

“I won’t, malyshka (baby). I promise you.” She sounded solemn, her jade eyes boring into your own with such intensity it almost felt jarring. “I won’t leave until you tell me to.” You searched her eyes for confirmation, looking for reassurance despite taking her words at face value. She had no reason to lie to you. She would not lie to you if it meant losing you. She had told you so herself.

“Good.” Your grin was brighter than the sun, a small chuckle getting muffled against her lips as she pulled you back in, unwilling to stay away from your delicious lips that were begging to be kissed. She brought you into her embrace, nearly pulling you fully onto her lap, her firm thighs against your own bringing a familiar heat to your lower abdomen that only fueled the intense affection and longing you felt in your chest. You pushed your tongue against hers, pleased to feel her respond, your entire body melting into her hold as you sank into the kiss, molding against her in every way possible, a weak, helpless moan slipping from you when she switched angles to kiss you even deeper. Once Natasha’s lungs were on fire, she was

forced to pull away to catch her breath, her glossy eyes finding your own to admire.

“I should go tell Wanda I’m not leaving. She’s a busy woman”, Natasha mused, brushing some of your baby hairs behind your ear, her fingertips lingering close to caress the soft skin of your face. You nodded your head but didn’t dare to pull away to initiate the move. “You sit tight and pretty. I’ll be right back.” She cupped your face firmly, placing a proper kiss on your lips before pulling herself out from under you and heading to the door. You could not take your eyes off her, staring at her back profile longingly. She was wearing the flannel pajamas she had lended you the week before, paired with a warm, dark grey knit sweater. She looked rather adorable, your features softening visibly at the mere sight of her, at the knowledge that she was yours to keep. She let both Wandas back inside, yours coming over to the couch to check in on you and get a situation update from the more familiar side. Natasha couldn’t hold back her smile as she approached Wanda who needed no further elaboration to know that you and Natasha had been able to even things out with each other.

“I’m staying”, Natasha stated, Wanda nodding her head in understanding, immediately welcoming the former into her arms.

“Remember this moment”, Wanda whispered in Natasha’s ear, squeezing her tightly. “Remember that you felt like staying was impossible, but you were able to work it out nonetheless.”

“I will.” Natasha hugged Wanda even tighter.

“This won’t be a forever goodbye, but I hope I don’t see you for a very long time. Build that life you’ve always dreamt of here. You have all the tools. Your battle is over now, and this is your reward”, Wanda hummed, pulling away from Natasha to see her face. Natasha looked emotional but at peace.

“Take care of yourself”, Natasha said a bit more sternly, nodding her head toward Wanda’s appearance, mainly referring to the darkening skin around her eyes. “Don’t play with your powers.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” The smirk on Wanda’s face told Natasha that there was no use in chiding Wanda. She was going to do whatever she wanted to do, and Natasha already had a feeling what Wanda was after. Wanda had never been the same after losing Vision. She had her own pain and baggage to mend which Natasha already knew could easily lead her to the world’s end, or perhaps even the multiverse’s.

“I mean it, Wanda.” Natasha gave her a pointed look.

“I can take care of myself.” Wanda shrugged.

“I have no doubt that you do.” Natasha smiled. She knew that it wasn’t always about one’s ability to care for oneself but rather about one’s will to care for oneself. It was far too easy to get blindsided and forget what was for the best and what was overly ambitious.

“I’ll see you someday.” Wanda said with a fond but tired smile on her face.

“I’ll see you.” Natasha gave Wanda’s hand a squeeze before backing away to give her room to create a portal. You and Wanda watched in awe as the other Wanda’s hands came up in front of her and sparked with light, a large abrasion appearing in the air. You could see with your very own eyes another place beyond that spot in Natasha’s living room. You could see that when Wanda stepped through it, she disappeared out of your sight, the portal closing behind her. You could see with your very own eyes that Wanda was gone and there was no possible way for her to still be in the same room with you. Wanda was gone, the world opening up to you right then and there as the truth of Natasha’s words sank in. The concrete proof of what had been told to you was overwhelming but more than necessary. You felt lighter, more secure. You were alright. You turned to look at Wanda who seemed truly fascinated at her alternate self’s abilities, her green eyes wide and filled with wonder before slowly returning to you.

“Who would’ve thought that I was right?” Wanda said in a flabbergasted sigh that made you laugh.

“I’m glad you were”, you hummed, placing your hand on Wanda’s. “Thank you.” You pulled her into your embrace. “And I’m sorry for ruining the party.”

“Shh, no such thing.” Wanda’s hand rubbed your back before she pulled back. “I’m happy this worked out.” She glanced at Natasha who was slowly making her way into the living room. “Now, I’ve done my part, so you need to behave. No more fighting”, Wanda ordered playfully, hearing Natasha chuckle.

“No more fighting”, you agreed, nodding your head in emphasis as Wanda got up from the couch.

“Come pay me a visit before next year”, she hummed in amusement, a knowing smirk on her face as she placed her hand on Natasha’s shoulder in acknowledgment of her before moving to the entrance of the apartment. She had a feeling that you and Natasha were going to be hard to pull apart from then on. She got her shoes and her coat before she was out the door accompanied by you and Natasha’s respective goodbyes.

Natasha’s hand found your head, gently smoothing over your hair in a very affectionate manner, your head tilting back to see her. Your stomach flipped at the mere sight of her as she rounded the couch to you, taking a seat beside you. Her hand guided you into her embrace on its own as you allowed yourself to find comfort and solace in her sturdy body and sink into her hold. She let out a long sigh to rid herself of the tension that had accumulated inside her from all the stress, the heartbreak, and the pain. You pressed your head against her chest, listening to her even heartbeat, your arm hugging her waist. You had to muffle your yawn into her sweater, Natasha’s chest sparking with thrilling electricity of excitement at the way your face pressed into her body.

“Tired?” Natasha asked, her hand sinking into your hair to comb through it repetitively, soothingly.

“Couldn’t sleep a wink.” You nuzzled closer to her, feeling the weight on your shoulders shake off as an overwhelming sense of safety found your body. Her arms tightened around you, lips pressing into your hair and on your forehead in a few gentle pecks.

“You can rest now”, she mumbled, her hand stroking down your back to your waist as if to attempt to pull you closer but it was no longer possible. You hummed your agreement to her words, squeezing her just a little tighter as you inhaled her familiar scent, unable to get enough of her fragrance.

“How do you feel?” You wanted to comfort her as much as she was comforting you.

“I feel fantastic”, she whispered into your ear, her breath tickling you, making you chuckle.

“Me too.” You lifted your head off her chest despite how much you didn’t want to, but there was something you wanted just that little bit more. Natasha’s chin tilted down to look at your face, her smile widening at the sight of you, your lips pursing slightly to ask for a kiss. She leaned down to bring her warm lips into your reach, her soft mouth connecting with your own. She exaggerated the smack of your lips on purpose, pleased to see your lips curve into a grin, prompting her to lean back in to kiss your smile, your chin, your cheeks. Her hands came up to either side of your face, holding you steady as she peppered you with as many kisses as you could handle before your laughter got to be too much.

“You’re the cutest”, she chuckled when you finally buried your face into her chest to escape the tickle of her lips, her hands rubbing your back in long strokes, her face in your hair to remind herself of how good your shampoo smelled. It was hard to describe the relief you both felt in the presence of the other. The air around you felt lighter, easier to breathe, your bodies ridden of the plaguing anxiety and worry. You could just sit in each other’s embraces and be in the moment.

“So are there two of you as well?” You asked in curiosity after a long moment of silence, your smile against her breast widening. “Do I have to be worried about another version of you lurking about?”

“No. She’s not here anymore.” Natasha didn’t quite want you to know the extent of her cruelty despite not being fully able to hide it away from you. She already knew that you were familiar with her rough past and upbringing, but she would rather not tell you such things right into your face, especially when she was trying to leave all of it in her past. You could sense from her tone that it was wiser to leave the matter be.

“Is there anything else I should know about your past life?” It was important to be up to date about everything that had made it possible for you and Natasha to be together. Knowing and understanding were essential for trust.

“I don’t like to talk about it. I want a clean slate, but if you need to know something for the sake of this relationship or to better understand me, I’m open to it.”

“I appreciate that, and of course, if you ever feel like you need someone to listen to your troubles, I’m right here, love.” Your tone was soft, bringing a smile to her lips. You had always been good at listening.

“Yeah, you are.” It was almost like Natasha couldn’t believe it to be true, the look in her eyes carrying just a hint of disbelief with it. You were right there in her arms, your warm body touching her own, your heart beating loudly in your chest, protected by your ribs that were strong and fully intact. Your soft skin was smooth and unmarked by scars and cuts from battles you should have never had to fight. Your lungs were functioning steadily, making use of all the oxygen you breathed in with every inhale you took. Your face wasn’t dragged down by grief and pain, your hair wasn’t falling out from all the emotional torture the final battle had put you through. You had a spark in your eye, mirth in the sly smile on your lips. You had a chime to your laughter, a heat that coursed through your veins with such intensity that it infected Natasha with it. You were alive and well, happy in the most truest sense, far, far away from a reality that had only ever hurt you time and time again.

“Natasha?” Your tone was thoughtful as you pulled away. “We’re missing something essential.”

“What?” She frowned.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Natasha couldn’t help but to laugh out of joy at your question, amused that she had forgotten about such formalities.

“Yes, I will, detka (baby). I already thought of you as mine.” You felt your cheeks heat at her words, her hand squeezing your waist. “You were mine from the moment we locked eyes.” You allowed your fingertips to caress her left cheek, carefully tracing over the light mole there, a faint smile on your lips as you recalled the first time you had ever seen her with her bloodied, dirty face and tormented eyes. It felt strange to look at the memory from another perspective and in light of everything that had happened between you and everything that had happened before Natasha’s arrival. It all made sense. The yearning in her eyes, in her demeanor, made sense. The look felt no longer haunted to you, but one of love and admiration, of deep sadness and loss. The thought of her grieving you before even meeting you was absurd, but you knew that there had been a reason, a purpose, for it all along. It had never felt coincidental or meaningless. You never could brush it aside because it was simply meant to be. Your eyes met hers, your forefinger trailing down over the corner of her mouth to her jaw. You never wanted to see that look of sorrow on her face ever again. You pressed your lips to hers to seal your promise to one another, the kiss coming off confident and strong, prepared for a new beginning.

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (pt. 6)

Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader  / Topper x Female!Reader  

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Swearing, mild smut, fluff, angst, mentions of abuse (wow a lot) 

Part Summary: The aftermath of the bonfire is pushing you to your limit. Meanwhile, JJ is slowly losing himself in his grief. 

Masterlist

You and Topper meet your friends at the Ocean Club for lunch as arranged over text after the chaos at the Boneyard. You, Rafe, Rhett, Kelce, and Topper are all gathered around the table on the patio of the club. Despite looking put-together, you're all discombobulated in the head. All of your Kook friends are startled, to say the least by the events. More than half of them have never been close to a gun and all of them share a hatred of Pogues. 

Your brother Rhett invited his "friend" Crystal.  She's been fawning after him since their freshman year. They hooked up one time and she was practically picking out an engagement ring. She hangs around Rhett, Rafe, and all of their friends, hoping one of them would show a slight bit of interest. Her bottle black hair and bottle tan scream more New Jersey than OBX, but she throws on a Lily Politzer dress calls herself a Kook. She's always been low-key intimidated by you and envious even. She wants your title of the Princess of the OBX, but she struggles to get past being an associate. In summary, Crystal thinks acting like a stuck-up brat is how to be a Kook. She's delusional.

"Last night was unreal,” Kelce exhales deeply as he leans back in his chair. 

“You know how Pogues can be,” Topper remarks bitterly, placing his arm across your shoulders. 

"Where were you last night?" Rafe questions your brother from down the table. 

"My dad had me in Charleston on business," Rhett explains with a roll of his eyes. 

Crystal places her hand on Rhett's arm, giving it a supportive squeeze. The sight nearly makes you gag. Never in a million years will you call her your sister-in-law. 

"Lucky you," Kelce chuckles. 

"Yeah you really dodged a bullet," Rafe makes a pun. 

"Nice Rafe," Topper nods his head slowly, giving his friend a disapproving look. 

You toss around bits of lettuce around your salad, not exactly hungry. You wouldn't be here right now if Topper didn't already say you two were coming. It's not that you dislike your friends. You just don't feel like a review of last night and a Pogue roast session. Topper notices your lack of voice and interest in the group. He rubs his thumb over your shoulder, gaining your attention. You offer him a weak smile, your mind elsewhere. 

“At least Maybank has what’s coming to him. Apparently, the police are looking for him," Crystal announces to the table. 

Your fork slips from your hand accidentally, causing everyone to stare at you. “Wait, what?!" You glance between the girl and Topper to see if it's true. Topper doesn't react despite seeing your worried expression. Did Topper already know this? Did he not tell you? 

Rafe frowns at your reaction and his flicker to Topper before he answers. “Yeah, people told their parents what happened and the parents reported the incident to the police," he explains hesitantly. 

"As they should!” Crystal adds with a scoff of disgust, wearing a smug expression. “Who knows what that good-for-nothing white trash would’ve done to us if given the chance!" She justifies from across the table. 

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up, Crystal!” You snap. 

Everyone's jaws drop, astounded that such a vile sentence could come from your lips. 

“Ugh! Excuse me?!” Crystal gasps. 

You lean forward in your chair, turning your body to face the entitled girl. 

“What? Are you deaf all of a sudden?" You wear a mocking grin. "Wouldn’t be surprised with your big loud fucking mouth going constantly!” 

“What’s up your ass Whitfield?!” She fires back, drawing the attention of some other patrons. 

“Your piece of shit attitude!” You bark. 

"Ohh," Kelce drags out. 

"Wow," Rafe struggles to hide his amusement. 

Topper places a warning hand on your shoulder which you shake off. 

“Why are you defending him? He pulled a gun on Topper! On you!” Crystal reminds you in a shout. 

“I know that, Genius! Considering I was on the other side of said gun!” You hiss between your teeth. 

“Then what possible justification is there for what he did?" She huffs. "JJ Maybank is insane! A trash Pogue!” 

You slap your palms against the table, making everything raddle. “No, he’s not!” 

"Y/N!" Your brother warns. "Remember where you are!" 

You don't give a shit about where you are! If this girl continues to run her mouth, you're going to do a lot worse than yell. 

“What? What is it about him, huh?" Crystal presses with a wicked smirk. "A charity thing? Wealthy guilt? Rooting for the underdog?” 

“Crystal!” Rafe barks her name defensively. 

“What?” The girl giggles. "It's true, isn't it? She's got a thing for the bottom feeder!" 

“Back off!” Topper warns her, finally backing you up. He may agree with her, but once she starts making digs at you he doesn't hesitate to put her in her place. 

Then, a lightbulb snaps on in her head. “Oh wait... or is it that you have the hots for him? Have you officially run out of guys on this side of the island? You a Pogue whore now?” She laughs mockingly. 

Having enough of her, you impulsively pick up your full glass of white wine and toss it in her face. She gasps as the liquid covers her, her mouth in the shape of an "O." The boys' jaws hit the table as all they can do is watch you toss your drink at her white tube top. 

"Y/N!" Topper utters your name in shock. This is nothing like you. You never lose your cool. You're always the calm and put together one of your friends. 

"You bitch!" Crystal nearly cries. "This is designer!" 

You groan, tossing your head back. "Oh my God! Get over yourself!" 

“JJ Maybank should be sent to jail with his dad and if he rotted in there I doubt anyone would miss him!” Crystal remarks with a snarky smirk. 

That's it! Without a second thought, you fly up from your chair, causing it to toss backward onto the floor. You leap across the full table, reaching your arms out for the girl. Kelce and Rafe move out the way as Crystal screams. Glasses and silverware fall off the table onto the wood-paneled floor patio floor. Topper moves quickly to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you back, but not before you get a good slap across her face. 

“Woah, Woah, Woah there!” He pants, struggling to get a good hold on you. 

“Let me go!” You scream, wiggling in his arms. 

“Nope, not letting you get arrested today,” he grunts, stepping backward away from the table. 

“You crazy whore!” Crystal yells, holding her cheek. 

 “You’re calling me a whore? That’s ironic considering your name is Crystal! You were practically named for the corner, bitch!” You fire back, tossing up your middle fingers at her while Topper drags you toward the exit. 

“Damn!” Kelce laughs, covering his mouth to hide it. 

You don't care who's watching. Crystal had this coming a long time ago and she's pushed your patience to its limit the moment she touched JJ. She'll know now to never speak of him. 

“Fuck you, Y/N!” Crystal screams one last time. 

Rhett grabs her arm, quietly begging for her to stop. He's certainly pissed at your impolite actions and will likely run to tell your parents. 

“No thanks! I’m not into insecure, loudmouth, prostitutes!” You snap out one final dig before Topper gets you out the door. 

You never noticed Pope cleaning a table just yards away, you were pretty preoccupied. He watched in awe as you quite literally flew across the table and slapped a girl because she spoke wrongly about JJ. After Pope saw you with Topper, he wasn't sure what to think. He was just as confused by your relationship as JJ. The turn of events he's just witnessed sealed the deal in his mind, you're in love with JJ, whether you know it or not. 

________________________________

After his shift at the Club, Pope immediately went to John B's, knowing that's where his friends would be waiting to go out on the HMS Pogue. 

“You guys! You’ll never believe what happened at work today!” He rushes out as he jogs down the dock. 

“All the Kooks got swallowed up by the ocean?” JJ remarks bitterly in a grumble as he lounges on the front of the boat in his swim trunks

“No!” He pants as he slows to a stop. “Y/N and Crystal got into this huge fight!” 

“What?!” John B gasps. 

“What do you mean? Is she okay?!” Kiara questions as she helps Pope onto the boat. 

“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine, but it was insane!" Pope laughs in amazement. 

“What about?” Sarah inquires, eager to learn more. 

“JJ!" Pope explains with the utmost enthusiasm. "Crystal was talking shit and the next thing I know Y/N throws her drink in her face and jumps at her. She slaps the hell out of her! Topper literally had to carry her out!” 

“Holy shit,” John B mutters, wide-eyed. 

“God I would’ve paid big bucks to see that,” Kiara chuckles. 

“I can’t even envision Y/N doing something like that,” Sarah shakes her head in disbelief. 

“I know, she’s usually so polite, calm, civilized," Kiara lists. 

“You should’ve seen her guys. It was so badass. Lesson learned, don’t piss of Y/N!" Pope settles down on the bench beside Kiara. 

“It was over me?” JJ finally voices quietly. 

Pope hums. “Crystal wouldn’t stop and Y/N told her to “shut the fuck up.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Y/N swear,” Sarah admits. 

 “That’s because she rarely does,” John B adds. 

“So she’s not pissed at me?” JJ questions, his tone steady and expressionless. 

“Based on how she was going to claw a girl’s eyes out in your defense, I vote no,” Pope determines. 

JJ stands up in a rush, moving to hop down into the boat. “Well, where did she go after that? Did Topper take her home or did she-" 

“She went looking for you,” you call out from the opposite end of the dock. 

Everyone's heads snap in your direction. All of their eyes are wide with surprise. They all smile, honestly glad to see you. JJ, however, just stares blankly with an unreadable reaction. 

“Hi JJ,” you greet timidly, doing your best to smile but you fall short. 

The boy never breaks his eye contact with you as he jumps off the boat. He marches toward you and you're not sure what to expect. You haven't spoken since last night and you wouldn't exactly call that a conversation. "What do you want? Come to gloat?" He sasses. 

“Okay, that’s our cue!” John B announces, starting up the engine. 

“Yep! We'll catch you guys later!” Pope rushes out. 

“Good to see you Y/N!” Sarah adds.

The Pogues desert JJ, leaving you two to work out your problems. JJ doesn't even turn around or react in the slightest as John B hurries the boat away. An ounce of you wonders if it's because he wants to stay, to talk to you. 

Your eyes flicker down to his chest and torso. The bruises you saw last night as a tad more healed, but still, look awful. Now that his body is more exposed, you start to notice more marks and cuts all over his arms, chest, ribcage. The sight makes your heart sink. Without thought, you place your hand on JJ's stomach. "Did Top do this?" You worry. JJ's muscles clench under your touch. The feeling of your fingertips glide across his bare torso makes him go weak in the knees. 

"No, got into a fight with a bobcat. You should see the bobcat," he smirks slightly, making light of the situation. 

Your face falls as your eyes meet his. "Don't joke-" 

"Sorry!" He steps back. "Can't take you seriously when everything you say is a lie," he scoffs. 

Your brows scrunch together in confusion. "What are you even saying right now?!" 

"It was all bullshit!" He snaps. "All of it! Everything you said! You're no different than the rest of them!" He exhales deeply, taking a moment to stare at you. He immediately regrets yelling considering how guilty he felt after what he did last night. Yet, JJ's hurt and he's pent up these emotions for days now. They're driving him nuts. "You lie, cheat, you take what you want when you want it no matter the consequences or who you hurt!" 

"I never lied to you, JJ!" You defend, equally as passionate as him. "Every fucking word was true!" JJ's brows rise slightly at your use of language. It appearing so foreign coming from your mouth. You sigh, "Jesus, JJ you can be so oblivious sometimes!" You turn on your heels, marching back down the dock toward the yard. 

"At least I'm not playing both sides of the fence! I know what I want and where I belong!" JJ fires. 

You whip your head over your shoulder and stomp back toward him. "You freaking psycho!" 

"Psycho! How am I a psycho?" JJ laughs, astonished. 

"You pulled a gun!" You remind him. 

"He was drowning me, Y/N!" JJ screams, getting in your face. You swallow hard. Despite the intensity of your arguing, you can't help but feel a rush of satisfaction having JJ so close again. JJ looks to the side, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "I'm not gonna be your little plaything while you wait on Topper of all people to fuck you again," he shakes his head, meeting your gaze again. "I won't do it." 

Your lips part, not believing the words coming from him right now. "Fuck you, JJ," you hiss between your teeth before turning again to walk away. JJ stays where he is and watches you stomp away. A part of him wants to beg you to stay, the other tells himself that you deserve everything he's saying. 

You come to a slow stop as your mind races. You're Y/N Whitfield, you don't have to take this shit, especially from JJ Maybank of all people. You spin on your heels and JJ glances up as you do. "For someone so smart you're an idiot!" You clench your jaw. "Topper is my best friend, that's it!" You reason. "Whatever Sarah told you, that was before I met you! He could never be you!" 

JJ simply stares at you blankly. The silence kills you. One minute he won't shut up and the next he stands there like an idiot. 

"The way I feel when I'm with Topper..." you sigh, unsure how to describe it. You're not entirely what to call it. "It's comfortable, sure, but it's not anything glorious. There's no excitement there, just a sense of security from knowing each other for so long." You hesitate to continue, but since you'll probably never speak again, you might as well lay everything out on the table right? "You don't even have to touch me, your glance is enough to make me feel alive. When I went to bed, I thought of you. When I woke up, I thought of you. You're... you're it for me, JJ. I can't imagine there's anything better than when I'm with you. But... I guess we already fucked it up didn't we?" 

There's a pause between shots and you prepare to walk away from JJ forever. Then, something in him sets off and he starts rushing up to you. Startled, you begin to shuffle back. 

"What are you doing?" You question, placing a hesitant hand up. 

"Showing you how much of an idiot I really am," he replies swiftly as he brings his hands up to cup your face. 

He pauses for a second, looking at you with hooded eyes. You lose all capability of breathing, melting into his hands. You glance down at his parted lips, waiting for what's next. JJ smashing his lips to yours hungrily. Without hesitation, you reciprocate the action, combing your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck.

 You meant every word. Being with Topper can be great and there's so much history there. Yet, being with JJ is entirely different. It's new. It's organic. It's what keeps you awake at night in the best way. You imagine exploring every inch of his body and never letting go. 

JJ breaks from you, pressing his lips to your forehead as his eyes fall shut. "I'm so sorry, Baby, for everything!" He whispers against your cheek before planting a kiss there. 

"Me too," you reply. 

He pulls back, meeting your gaze. "I don't think you're a slut." 

You laugh, "I sure hope not!"  

"You're too good for me," he shakes his head as he still wonders if this is all in his imagination. 

"Quite the opposite actually," you debate. 

"No, don't say that." He shakes his head frantically, hating it when you speak badly about yourself. "You're everything to me!" 

You place your hands over his on your cheek and plant a kiss on his palm, making JJ totally simp for you. 

"Do you... would you maybe wanna have a little hot tub night?" The boy asks nervously, still kinda unsure of himself when it comes to you. 

"I'd love that," you smile, wanting to spend every moment with him from this day forever. 

_____________________________

Settling in the hot tub, JJ tugs at the rim of your panties, pulling you to sit across his lap. You drape your arms on his shoulders, resting your forehead against his. 

"Are you warm enough?" He whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. 

Hum as your eyes falls shut, pondering the closeness. 

"You're so soft and warm. You're like a human Pillow Pet," he comments with a slight snicker. 

"Excuse me?" You lift your head to look at him. 

"Minus the furry part," he elaborates. 

"You're such a goof." You laugh, placing your palm against his head and pushing it away playfully. 

"Only for you, Baby," JJ grins. 

You place a quick peck on his lips before shifting to move off of his lap. 

JJ pouts, letting out a minor whine. "Uh uh, don't leave." 

"I'm just grabbing my drink," you giggle at his childlike expression. As you take a sip from your beer, you can feel JJ watching you. You glance over your shoulder and sure enough, his eyes remain locked on your ass. "You're starring," you smirk. 

"You bet your amazing ass I am," he mumbles, reaching across the water and grabbing your ass, giving it a squeeze. 

"JJ!" You gasp, swatting his hand away. 

He tilts his head back, exposing his sharp jaw as he wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you back to him. "Couldn't help myself! It was practically begging for a squeeze." 

"Right..." You nod, straddling his lap. 

As an act of retaliation, you press your palm to the center of his boxers, making the boy jolt lightly from surprise. 

"Holy shit," he swallows hard. 

"Couldn't help myself, it was practically begging for it," you smirk, repeating his words. 

"You're too good to be true," he whispers, bringing his lips closer to yours. 

"Dido," you grin, leaning in to kiss him. 

_____________________

After pondering the bliss of you and JJ finally being reunited in the hot tub, you two make dinner together in the Chateau's kitchen. You two move in sync as you prepare the oh-so-difficult meal of pizza rolls. You share a place of them while cuddling watching Goonies. During it, JJ comes up with the idea that you two should be Andy and Brand for Halloween. It makes you smile and all warm inside to hear him making plans for two months from now. It makes you fully realize how much JJ sees a future with you. Somewhere before Goonies was over, you fell asleep in JJ's lap while he was playing with your hair. The last few days have worn on you emotionally, mentally, and physically. 

The Pogues came home and when they saw you and JJ on the couch, especially you, they quietly stayed outside. Except, John B lingered, smiling at the sight of his friend doting on you. He's never seen JJ be so gentle and patient in his life. 

“You’re different with her," John B whispers not to wake you. 

JJ glances up from observing you look at his friend with a satisfied smirk. “She makes me want to be better." His fingers comb through your Y/H/C locks, utterly content. 

“I think she’s really good for you,” John B nods in agreement.  

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to change, to be worthy of being with her," JJ confesses quietly as he returns his focus to you. 

"You two deserve each other," John B assures his friend. 

"You think?" JJ wonders, still unsure of his place in your life. 

John B snickers lightly. "I mean, she did leap across a table in front of all her friends and slap a girl to defend you." 

"Yeah she did, didn't she? Pretty badass," JJ chuckles, still amazed that you did that. 

"She loves you man," John B concludes with a shrug. 

"Really?" JJ narrows his eyes with curiosity at his friend. 

"Well, it's obvious isn't it?" John B laughs breathlessly with a crooked grin. 

"I thought it was all in my head," JJ confesses with a childish fall of his lips like he just learned some overwhelming news. 

"It's not," his friend shakes his head, happy to see his friend finally have some hope. "She looks at you the same way you look at her." 

JJ's brows scrunch together and he looks up at John B. "When you and Sarah said it to each other, how did you know it was the right time?" 

"You'll know. You'll feel it," he describes confidently.  

"What if I feel it now?" JJ asks softly, glancing down at you. 

"Then say it. Say it whenever you can, as often as you can," John B advises before stepping away quietly to give you two time. 

JJ sits with your head cradled in his lap. He's not eager to join his friends around the fire outside. He's content with you here with him, whether you're asleep or not. You're enough for him. You're everything to him. 

JJ leans down, planting a kiss to your temple, then gliding his lips down to your ear. "I love you, Y/N," he whispers while you sleep.  __________________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly@cc13723things@hockeybabe87 @jolomez 

[stickynotestoletters]

may i ask for some poly relationship w larry & sal x male reader hcs?

Ah! Of course! :) Sorry I've been taking so long school is getting to me cause of finals;-;

Warnings: Noncannon compliant (their parents aren't together, no one dies, etc), NSFW (implied teen NSFW otherwise they're out of highschool), no weird cult stuff but they still ghost hunt, more modernish (?) phones and stuff

Sal x Male Reader x Larry hcs

highschool

I think that Sal and Larry would have gotten together before you got there

Like, I say gotten together but the way they started it was literally best friends that were super hornknee and decided to have sex together

They started then developing romantic feelings for each other though

And although the sex dynamic wasn't perfect (refer to my Sal x reader NSFW fic) it was good and they loved each other

It became an on and off thing until they actually worked it out

they talked about it and decided that it was better that they stay friends until they can sort out their own sexual desires and endeavors

Sal didn't even know he could do both as a switch and verse so he wanted to just re-examine his sexual self

And Larry was okay with that

So they decided to date but just without sex for a while

Then you moved to Nockfell their sophomore year

and god were you cool

Sal was the first one to see you in the hallway

It wasn't love at first sight really

He thought you were cool and he wanted to talk to you

Then that same day he told Larry about you during lunch

"I want to talk to him I just don't know how to approach him"

"Oh, well who is it?"

Ngl Larry was kinda jealous about how flustered Sal was getting at the prospect of a new friend but then Sal pointed at you and Larry was like "Oh, okay, I get it."

So Larry just approaches you

It was kinda to tease Sal about how shy he was being

Also kinda because you looked rad as fuck

So Larry approaches you sitting at a table alone

You were actually quite chill

You were happy since no one was approaching you

You guys hit it off and ended up becoming really good friends!

So for the duration of your sophomore year and the summer of your junior year, you guys were really good pals and hung out a lot

Then Larry started developing feelings first

And he was super confused since he knew he still liked Sal, no doubt about it

So he was just super confused and conflicted because he didn’t want to break up with Sal

So during, about the first half, of all of your junior year he kept this to himself and tried to keep himself from feeling for you

Sal on the other hand already accepted his feelings, he realized it later than Larry

And he read yp on what being polygamous meant

So although there was a lot of confusion at first he figured it's no different from people in love triangles

He realizes it a couple weeks after Larry and decides to bring this up to Larry during winter break

The conversation pretty much just went like Sal explaining polyamory to Larry for an hour

They end up deciding to just wait a bit and try to flirt with you individually

you know,

because they don't remember that you don't know they're attracted to you at this point

:)

So basically you think that they're both trying to cheat on each other for the week they're flirting with you

At the end of that week, you tell them to meet you together

And they don't know any better than to meet you

And then you come to them, don't let them explain, and cry because you don't want two of your best friends to cheat on each other like this even though you like them

And then they realize why you're saying this

So although this was not the time they expected to confess to you they told you what they were trying to do

So you just sat there

With these two idiots

and told them "No guys, cause I was literally having a breakdown about losing my two best friends."

And they confess to you

and everything is emotional and raw and you accept

Your guys' dynamic doesn't change because you’re dating now

The only difference is you guys make out together and show lots more pda

although you always bring up what they did when they were trying to give you hints

"We just really wanted to flirt with you okay??? Is it such a crime to want your crush to fall for you???"

"When you guys don't explain you're looking to expand your relationship, yes. Yes, it is Larry."

"He's kind of right babe-"

"SAL-"

Y'all spend a lot of time communicating with each other on stuff like that now

Your senior year goes without any bumps between all of you and you then graduate

College Dynamic

so you and the gang (except Ash, she moves to the city of course) goes and makes a college house

once you all move in together there it's a new routine

You all agreed and talked about the move together and what it would entail

And then you all finally realized how different it was from a monogamous relationship it was

But you all had your learning curves within the relationship

You find out more about their dynamic as a couple

For example, Larry and Sal never liked to fall asleep without you anymore

They had trouble sleeping without you beforehand and the first time you all slept in the same bed together it was just... so... peaceful

They'll spoon and cuddle without you individually (Sal is always the big spoon with Larry)

but they just love falling asleep next to you

They also refuse to do homework without you there

Even if it's just the simplest this they're just gonna need to have you in the room to finish it

Sal likes to make songs about you guys

He records them and edits some but he never lets you two listen to them

"It's just embarrassing if you two were to listen to it. It's like confessing my love for you guys all over again except I can't hide behind the mask."

So until he decides to release his songs online or plays those at gigs he's never going to let you listen to them

Larry likes to paint you guys

His paintings of you before the "disaster confession" were okay, it just looked like he was making a painting of a friend, except for the occasional rose

But now he paints you and draws you two whenever he can

He finds it funny how flustered you and Sal get whenever he makes suggestive paintings or sketches of you two

One time he painted a whole sex portrait of you and Sal together (A 12 by 28 specifically) hung it upright in front of the door to your rooms and didn't tell anyone

So after you and Sal got home that day you were welcomed with Larry lounging on your bed with the giant picture of you fucking Sal next to him

It was definitely beautiful though, even if it's hard to call your nudes beautiful

"Larry Johnson, this painting, as always, masterful. Beautiful craftsmanship but please-" "-we mean this in the most loving way possible Larry-" "-STOP PAINTING OUR NUDES BABE"

He put it away to be hung up in your apartment for when you all move out

Non-College Life

Once you all finish college you guys move into an apartment outside of Nockfell

The minute after you and Sal leave to get food Larry puts up all his private paintings of you guys

It's funny to him

I imagine you guys moving to a really populated city

Somewhere where it's a good place for people wanting to have creative jobs but still close to Nockfell

Maybe not back to New Jersey but probably not as far as New York or LA

you guys do all the cute stuff you never got to in Nockfell together

It's not like the majority of Nockfell was homophobic, mostly just the people who went to the church

But a lot more of them didn't think that polyamory was possible

So now it's easier

It's not like you never experience any polyphobia anymore but it's easier because you're in a more open-minded place

Sal's favorite thing is to go to concerts now

And pride

He also likes coffee house dates too

Larry gets hit on a lot though whenever you guys go out anywhere though

He finds it funny how jealous you both get

Sometimes if he wants Sal to get really mad he'll play along

But most of the time he shuts it down before it begins

Sal gets hit on a lot at concerts the most though

He gets kind of awkward about it, he's not going to edge them on but he gets uncomfortable enough to just not know how to shut them down

Usually, you and Larry will just appear behind him and whisk him away

Larry likes to use it as teasing leverage for a good rough one that night but you usually make sure he's okay with it before Larry does anything

You get hit on the most casually

Here and there but there aren't really specific places

It just sort of happens

You mostly shut them down alone

But occasionally you'll have to go to Sal and Larry if they're persistent

And they'll be mean too

One of the first times you saw Sal and Larry ever legitimately get that mean was when you got hit on in a club and they both just pulled you behind them and absolutely ripped the person a new one

You guys really like to stay at home if you guys have dates though that way everyone feels included

But when you all do go around together it's always specifically for three people you never tell anyone it's a date for dinner reservations, you always make sure you go on rides everyone wants to go on at amusement parks, and hey if worse comes to worst smoking is a group activity (if you have asthma or any other breathing condition Larry makes you edibles if you really wanna do edibles with them)

Starting jobs there are tough and all but you make it off your feet

Sal ends up booking a lot of gigs and Larry's commission request skyrocket when he moves to the city and makes a blog about his art

You all get an apartment with affordable rent and one that allows Gizmo

I hc that Gizmo is an esp but I don't know if that's real

So regardless you'll still be able to have room for him

Sal proposes to both of you

You guys talked about marriage and decided that it would be easier legally to just not get married through a court

So you guys have a friends wedding and Gizmo is the ring bearer

You guys don't get a fancy venue or anything

You guys all just have a city wedding

NSFW

So, the first time you all decide to hook up it's mostly just very communicative rules beforehand

Sal is more comfortable with being fucked than fucking someone else at most times but "It's not like I never want to stick my dick in you two" as he puts it

He also likes background music on most of the time

It's kinda weird if there isn't just a little bit of music

It isn't really bothersome, you guys keep it below 20 at most times

Sal's also super submissive

He liked it rough, make him cry out for you two

A bit of a pillow prince

Especially enjoys being tied up by you two

gags and blindfolds are on the table

Although whenever he does feel up to fucking you and Larry he'll usually end up having you two ride him because he gets to be such a mess with you two unless he's jealous or upset

Usually, when he's upset he's gonna lift you two up and fuck you against the headboard or wherever you two are if he's impatient enough

One time you were chilling with Larry in your bedroom and he was painting over his easel

Sal burst through the door where it slammed back on itself and closed itself

He then tracks his eyes on you

immediately asks you "Can I please fuck you right now"

and as soon as your safe word and consent comes out of your mouth he's holding you down on the bed and fucking into you so hard you can barely breath

Larry doesn't mind it and just continues painting with you moaning and being so pathetic in the background of his music

He kinda finds it funny because before you all got together and he and Larry would angry fuck it never worked out

Sal was just being a brat most of the time because Larry still wouldn't let him fuck him submissively

Speaking of which, Larry's more comfortable with being dominant, he'll bottom but only if he can still be dominant otherwise forget it

Larry's just a rough fucker anyway

He really likes pushing and holding you two up against walls when he fucks you guys

He likes showing off the muscles he got helping his mom with handy work and stuff like that

The first time he did this was to Sal when you were studying in your guy's room

You said you didn't really wanna participate today so they fucked like they would without you

And so they're talking back and forth, teasing each other

and Larry corners him

And just

lifts him up

It looked like he was just lifting a bag of sugar up

Sal seemed weightless as Larry just rocks into him

It was one of the hottest things you'd seen at the time so you joined them

You do that a couple more times but then it just becomes normal and you decide you need to start finishing all those assignments

Larry does that to you one on one as well without Sal but it happens to Sal a lot more spontaneously

Larry though is kinkier than Sal in some respects

He'll try anything at least once "Lisa didn't raise no bitch-"

He's really into breeding and long fucking sessions though

Like, lowkey he has omegaverse fantasies

Not because of the weird stuff just because a lot of the time..... they have breeding written in

He'll never admit to reading any of it but you know he has at least once

Super into dirty talk

And he's really good at it

He also had a praise kink and a degradation kin

He likes degrading you and you telling him thank you and how good he's treating a filthy little brat like you

"What're my filthy little brats good for other than sucking my dick so well. Taking me so well like the dirty little whores you are?"

"Yes sir-" "-we're made for your big cock-" "-thank you for fucking us like this-"

He especially likes breeding you and having Sal suck you off while he does it, he finds your crying cute

And an added bonus is rewarding Sal after for it

You guys talk about long-term consent and all that and decide that it's a good idea, you all trust and love each other so there isn't a problem

lol this kinda went to shit at the end but I still like it enough! Thanks for the Sally Face request I really like this game and the dynamic between a poly reader hc :)

-Laika

[willowbird]

can we get an Aaron POV of him beating the abuslute shit out of Jack in the locker room. i’m talking about slamming this boys head into the locker beating, he need kevin, matt and nicky to get aaron to stop and even then he still struggling to get more in till andrew comes into his vision. show me that same aaron from that secne in thanksgiving!!!

I am so SO sorry it's taken me so long to answer this!! Work was getting hectic and I was working on something else BUT now I'm for sure gonna get through the rest of these asks ^.^

Aaron losing his shit on Jack, huh? Well, we can sure do that ^.^ 

I changed a few things from your prompt just because as I was sitting down to write it made the most sense to me that if Aaron was gonna go after Jack it probably wouldn’t be about Andrew or Neil. Neil and Andrew take care of themselves, more or less, and if they can’t then they’ve got each other. Not that Aaron wouldn’t beat the ever-living shit out of Jack for doing or saying something to Andrew, but he just probably wouldn’t have to -- if only because Andrew doesn’t care enough about Jack to be affected by him. 

Nicky on the other hand...? Well, I’m a bit soft for the twins being protective of Nicky.

Warning for violence, depression, mentions of suicidal thoughts, triggering language. Take care of  yourselves.

----

“Jesus fucking Christ. That was the most pathetic excuse of teamwork I’ve ever seen in my goddamn life, and this is my sixth year coaching this fucks-forsaken team.” Coach Wymack had just spent the last twenty minutes ripping all of them brand new assholes. They were all tired, they were all angry, and they were all ready for this day to be fucking over, but it wasn’t over until the Coach had had his say, so here they were -- sitting in the locker room, getting chewed out again. 

Not that they didn’t deserve it. Aaron knew they did.

It had been a brutal fucking loss. The Foxes trashed by some half-cocked team from Alabama. Even with Andrew actively trying to block the goal, there was only so much he could do when the other team’s offense kept breaking through their defensive line to swarm the goal. Matt was off the court with an injury, which meant the only backliners they had were Aaron, Nicky, and Keith -- the freshman backliner who still couldn’t figure out how to fucking pass to a moving target. 

Aaron cared less about the loss than he did about the cause for it, and not for the same reasons as half the rest of the team. 

Nicky had been all thumbs and no energy tonight, but that hadn’t been a surprise -- not to Aaron or any of the rest of the monsters. Nicky had been off for a few days, his usual chatty, chipper demeanor whittled down to strained smiles and shrugs in a way that the rest of the team had never seen before. Well, most of the rest of the team. Aaron had seen this before. Andrew had too. Neil and Kevin hadn’t witnessed it directly, but by now the other two “monsters” knew Nicky well enough to know this other side of him existed even if they hadn’t seen it. 

So yeah, he’d gone into this game knowing it was going to suck -- knowing that they might lose. Maybe that had been their mistake. He, Andrew, Kevin, and Neil had been distracted -- torn between concern for Nicky and the need to cover for him. The freshmen had been a nightmare about it and what the fuck even was teamwork. At halftime, the commentators had called it one of the worst performances by the Foxes in three years. 

Yeah.

But at least it was fucking over, right?

“Now get showered up and get the fuck outta my sight. I don’t want to see a single one of you fuckers until tomorrow -- yeah, that’s right, we’re having Saturday fucking practice thanks to that sorry excuse of a game you pissed all over tonight.” Coach glared at all of them in turn. “By tomorrow I expect Nolan and Fisk to get their heads out of each other’s ass and Hemmick?” The big man’s gaze landed on Aaron’s cousin and he felt himself go stiff. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Andrew stand up from where he was leaning against the lockers. 

“Learn how to be a little less fucking useless. I don’t know what the fuck has been up with you the past few days but get it figure the fuck out. You hear me?”

The first pulse of genuine rage ignited in Aaron’s veins. His hands curled into fists and his vision narrowed. Nicky’s quiet, tightly muttered, “Yes Coach,” was partially drowned out by the dull roar in his ears. 

Anything he might have said or done was stymied, however, by Andrew, who slammed his fist against the lockers, drawing everyone’s attention away from Nicky and onto him. 

“Coach, I think we need to chat.” By whatever magic Andrew had over everyone that made everyone automatically take him more seriously than anyone else, he had Coach’s attention, just like that. The man snorted then jerked his head toward the door.

“Fine, but make it quick. I need to try and block out what just happened.”

Coach and Andrew left the room. For a minute, there was a tense, weighty silence, then someone whined and someone else bitched and normalcy returned -- well, normal for a really shitty fucking day anyway. The women split off to their changing room to shower and get ready, and several of the guys did the same. 

Nicky remained seated, staring blankly down at his hands, shoulders slumped in utter defeat. That anger curled in Aaron again -- not at Nicky and not at the fucking game, but at Coach and the team for being so fucking stupid, and at himself for not knowing what the fuck to do about any of it. Nicky’s depression was an open secret among their group. It was something they all knew of but never talked about. This was probably the worst episode he’d had in years and Aaron just felt... fucking powerless. 

When they’d noticed it, they’d closed ranks around Nicky as a group and shut out the rest of the team in a way they hadn’t done since the cousins’ freshman year. None of them were soft enough to take care of Nicky in the way he probably needed, but Andrew drove Nicky to Reddin Thursday morning and Aaron and Neil joined forces in helping Kevin hold his fucking tongue during practices when Nicky struggled to keep up with the rest of them. 

It was not gentle support, but it was all they had to offer.

It just... wasn’t fucking enough. 

“Jesus, Hemmick, are you fucking crying?” Aaron jerked out of his thoughts at the sound of Jack Nolan’s sharp, mocking voice. It was edged with a cruelty that went beyond the typical assholishness of the Foxes. 

“What, forgot how to fucking talk too? Wow, you really are useless aren’t you?” Jack continued when Nicky only flinched at his ridicule and didn’t rebuke him like he usually would.

“Hey, Jack, leave him the fuck alone. You didn’t do so great out there yourself tonight so why don’t you worry about yourself,” Matt barked from where he’d been sitting through Coach’s dress-down. He was wearing his jersey but since he hadn’t played tonight there was no need for him to have to peel gear off or shower. 

“Whatever.” Jack rolled his eyes like a petulant fucking teenager, but the look he shot Nicky was all cold predator. “Why don’t you do us all a favor and just go kill yourself?”

Even over the exclamation of Matt’s reprimand, Aaron still heard Nicky’s breath hitch. He remembered, vividly, the night two years ago when he and Nicky had been drinking and he’d asked him ‘How the fuck did make it through? We were fucking assholes, we are assholes, and you still stayed.’ He remembered not expecting the answer he got. He remembered Nicky looking down into his drink and saying, ‘I almost didn’t. Probably the only reason I didn’t try to off myself again was knowing that if I did, you two would go to my parents and I... I couldn’t let that happen. Didn’t care about me, but I could care about you. Caring about you guys kept me alive.’

He remembered the sick feeling in his stomach and the way that knowledge cut through his buzz, striking him sober with one fucking word: again.

Aaron did not make the decision to grab Jack, or if he did it was overwhelmed by the roar of the monster under his skin as it surged suddenly up from whatever dark place it had been lurking since that violent, bloody night last November. All he knew was that one moment he was standing there, and the next he had his hands on something that needed to shut the fuck up. 

He only vaguely registered the shouts around him as he dug his fingers into Jack’s shirt and whirled him around. Then the only thing that existed was the feeling of flesh and bone and the slick of blood against his knuckles as he drove his fists into every soft part of the body in front of him as hard as he fucking could. Jacks hands scrabbled ineffectually at Aaron’s shoulders, then his face, trying to hit him or grab his hair or push him off, but for all that Aaron was a small man he was a fucking backliner for a reason and he threw every single ounce of his muscle into shoving Jack into the lockers. 

A second later he was on him again, taking a fistful of his hair so he could slam his head into the lockers until the fucker’s knees buckled and he went down. 

All he could hear was the rumble of rage in his veins. There was no thought, no goal, no understanding -- not of anything but the raw, unfiltered hate pouring out of him as he followed Jack to the ground. Distantly, he knew there was shouting or screaming -- that there were words being thrown at him and hands desperately trying to haul him back. He felt the fingers curling around his biceps and tugging on his shoulders. But his wrath was far too powerful and each time someone got a grip he was able to wrench free and use that momentum to land another hit. 

At one point a solid arm wound around his waist and hauled him up and away. A sound like a feral animal ripped from his throat as Aaron thrashed wildly, trying to throw himself back onto Jack. The man had stopped moving at this point but there was a wet, raspy sound coming from him that still spoke of life and maybe Aaron hadn’t consciously decided to keep going until it stopped, but the drive was there all the same. 

The rest of the room was hazy around the edges, people were blurs of sound and color. The only thing in focus was the wheezing form of Jack fucking Nolan on the floor, and Aaron fought viciously to get back to him, jerking at the arms holding him back, kicking and trying to lash out with all his strength. 

Until something blocked his view. And it took a minute for Aaron to recognize what it was. To recognize who it was. 

“A-Aaron. Aaron. Stop. Please. It’s o-okay. It’s okay. I’m okay. S-stop...” 

The rest of the world snapped back into focus at the sound of Nicky’s gasped, broken words. Aaron stopped fighting so suddenly that he and everyone trying to hold him back stumbled. There were three of them, he realized -- Matt, Kevin, and Dan. Neil and Andrew were flanking Nicky, the three of them blocking his view of Jack’s prone, gasping form but not actually trying to stop him from killing him. 

Nicky was crying, his eyes wide and his hands trembling as he held them out in front of Aaron, pleading him to stop. 

Aaron took a few more heavy breaths and realized he’d been panting. He looked from Nicky to Andrew’s cool, appraising stare, then to Neil’s similar expression before finally glancing beyond them to the mess that might have once been Jack Nolan. When he dragged his gaze back to Nicky, all he said was, “He shouldn’t have opened his fucking mouth.”

Nicky made a strangled sound, something between a sob and a laugh. Then he did something he almost never did and launched forward, wrapping his arms around Aaron in a tight hug. In a reflex that Aaron didn’t even know he had, his arms snapped around his cousin and he hugged him back just as fiercely. 

As Nicky sobbed onto his shoulder, Aaron looked over his hunched form and met his brother’s gaze. There weren’t words that could translate the look they shared just then, but if he had to label it, it might have been something like understanding. 

[ajbwasntwriting]

To Serve and Protect (Bucky Barnes x Police!Fem!Reader)

the twd obsession has been interrupted since I’ve started watch TFATWS and have binged bucky fics like I was 15.

Summery: - Reader is an accomplished New York officer but an old case comes back in the shape of a super soldier in need of aid.

Warnings: - Light Spoilers for TFATWS, Cursing, mentions of Human Trafficking, flirty Bucky(kind of I tried)

You had just received your second medal of honor before the blip had occurred. When you came back, you were nearly arrested for breaking into what you had known as your apartment. Luckily, the situation was under control quickly. You had family just outside the city who were willing to support you until you got back on your feet but it still felt like a kick in the gut that your home was gone and you now had to learn a bunch of new skills to do with being a cop. Most of your friends had either died during the five years or had to move out of New York, and those who remained had moved on and didn’t seem to have time for you in their lives.

At least a few of your favourite places had stayed open, including what you thought was the best pizza joint in the state. You got dinner here most nights because it hadn’t changed. The tables still wobbled, the neon sign still buzzed from overuse, and Louis the owner still kept a couple slices of your favorite pie in the back for you.

“Please tell me the back booth is free” you sighed, taking the food from Louis.

“Long day, Detective?” Louis replied.

“New partner thinks I’m an idiot.” You mumble, taking a bite from the pie and burning your tongue.

“It’s clear,” Louis said sympathetically, nodding to the far side of the restaurant.

You slid into the small booth tucked out of the way, tucking into your pizza and soda. After your first slice you noticed a carving on the table. It was your initials plus A.S. equals epic. You smiled as you remembered your previous partner Aarush Sharma. You two had been friends since you joined the force and had come to this booth almost every break hour to fill up on pizza and terrible coffee.

“Detective L/N.” A gruff voice spoke to you. Judging by the shadow he casted over you, he was a big man.

“Look if your here to buy me off or intimidate me,” you snapped, “then you can fu-” you stopped short when you looked up. You recognised the man as James Buchanen Barnes instantly. “Oh,” you sighed with relief.

“You know me?” he asked you.

“Followed the Zemo case.” you explained. He visibly tensed at the mention of Zemo. You held up your hand to calm him. “I know you’ve been pardoned.” You suddenly remembered how your conversation with the Winter Soldier had begun “wait, how do you know me?”

“I need your help,” He spoke low, just so the two of you could hear. He slid opposite you in the booth, leaning forward on the table. “Two-thousand-fifteen, August seventh you filed a report on a human trafficking ring operating out of staten island.” You began eating your second slice of pizza as he talked. “You arrested the main perpetrators, with the exception of Donnie Morris and Frank Abara. You opened an investigation on them but it went cold two months later.” You nodded along to the story. “That’s because-”

“They’re Hydra? Real names Robert Bern and Josh Smith? And the trafficking was for human experimentation?” you interrupted him. He stared at you, just about concealing his surprise. “I was a good cop.” you finished off your pizza, wiping your mouth and looking away in shame. “Was.”

“Why’d you stop?” he asked.

“They threatened me.” You patted the flour off your hands and picked up your soda. “And when that didn’t work, they told my friends to stop me else their family would be hurt, so.” you slurped on your soda and stared back at him.

His piercing blue eyes were reading you like a book, pulling apart your disgust at never catching them, and trying to figure out how to use it to his advantage. He had to admit it was impressive that a normal police officer was able to get farther than he was, but you were still a normal person.

“I need to find them,” he spoke up.

“Why?” you cocked your eyebrow, soda straw still in your mouth. You had been studying his face to find any tell of malintent but the only conclusion you were drawing was that he was handsome as hell, and really good at hiding his tells.

“You don’t need to know.” he retorted. You hummed with discontent.

“See, Mr. Barnes. My job is to protect and serve. Sadly, that includes assholes.” You put down the now empty soda cup and leaned forward to match his position. “And you’ve said enough for me to arrest you under suspicion of planning to commit a crime against said assholes.” His glare hardened and his jaw tightened as he stared you down. “So please answer the question, ideally in a non-incriminating way.”

He looked and huffed, sliding back a little before fixing you with his stare again, but it wasn’t long until he was looking from his hands to the window, seemingly in defeat. “Their boss is dangerous. And I’m the one that made it so.” He forced a bitter smile finally looking back at you. “I’m trying to right as many wrongs as I can but I can’t find this guy but you.” he punctuated by pointing at you with his joined hands. You caught a glint of something metal up his sleeve that you suspect was his arm. “You came very, very close. Apparently, Closer than I thought you did.”

You mulled it over in your head for a moment before reaching into your breast pocket and pulling out your notepad. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you, Mr. Barnes” You looked over the restaurant between bouts of writing, talking all the while in case people were listening. “The case is closed and the records are public so everything you know is everything I know.” You quietly ripped off the piece of paper and pocketed the notebook, picking up your trash to disguise it. He took the hint and hid the paper by putting his hands down and sliding back in the booth, seemingly in defeat. “Good night, Mr. Barnes.” you said, and walked away, depositing your trash on your way out.

Bucky sat their a moment to give you a head start before stepping out himself, piece of paper in hand. As he walked home he opened the paper.

Tomorrow Seneca Village 23:35

Bucky stood in front of the plaque, mind too busy working through every horrible thing that could happen from this little stunt. He was about to run when he heard your voice. “Hey there.”

You walked over and stood next to him, stoically in your repose. You were wearing a pair of jeans and heeled boots with a fashionable jacket and a suitcase in hand. “I don't know which of us is stupider right now.”

“You could have picked a better meeting spot.” Bucky retorted, shifting uncomfortably.

“It’s horrifying,” you commented, putting the case down, Reading over the plaque. “Over two hundred lives ruined by a couple of assholes who wanted a park. Reminds me of another couple of assholes.”

“Yeah?” Bucky replied. You stood there a moment longer, thinking if you could still go back. You bit your tongue and decided having faith was the better bet.

“Burn it when you’re done.” you shot back and walked past him.

Bucky noticed the case just outside his line of vision. He picked it up and walked away from the plaque, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible despite the case not really matching his attire.

You didn’t hear anything for a couple weeks after the impromptu meeting, having handed over every piece of evidence that had been sitting in your self storage since 2015. Each minute was spent biting your nails with stress, hoping your actions didn’t come back to bite you in the ass. Then the news came on, publicizing that Robert Bern and Josh Smith had been arrested ‘after it was discovered they were connected to a human trafficking ring in New Jersey and a former operation in Staten Island.’

“Looks like somebody did your job for you.”

“Shut up, Louis.” you quip back at him, nursing a terrible cup of coffee. The restaurant was near empty aside from yourself, Louis, a trio of loud drunk women in the corner and a homeless man who had scraped cents together to buy a slice of pizza. The TV above the kitchen archway providing most of the ambiance.

“What’s got you in a mood?” he asked as he cleaned.

“Ever been ditched on a blind date? I get all dolled up,” you opened your coat to show a figure hugging dress with a low neckline, coupled with an elegant necklace. “And the asshole texts me when I’m already at the lounge saying he needs a fucking rain check.”

“Okay, well he’s an ass-”

“Right!” you exclaim.

“But you need to stop scowling before you scare off my customers.” Louis playfully chided.

“Oh, cause there’s so many of them.” you waved a hand out at the restaurant to emphasize your point. Still you leaned over your coffee to stew in your own misery. You couldn’t hear the door open over the women’s third rendition of ‘I’m every woman’ but you noticed someone slide onto the bar stool next to you. You turned your head to see Bucky looking back.

“Have I seen you here before?” Bucky said playfully.

You chuckled involuntarily and sat up on your stool. “You must be mistaking me with someone else.”

He swiveled on the stool to face you fully, leaning on the counter comfortably. “You sure?” he seemed to be playing with you, a sly smirk on his face. “Could’ve sworn I met this detective lady here who looked a lot like you.”

“Was she pretty?” You pressed, a smile now sneaking it’s way onto your face without you knowing.

Bucky looked in your eyes with a soft sincerity. “Incredibly,”

You laughed nervously as you looked away and into the pool of your coffee. “Was that before or after she helped you with your job.” You deflected.

“About that,” Bucky leaned onto the counter. He was still quiet good at hiding his tells but you got the impression he was nervous by the pause. “You gave me more than I needed so I was able to do better than I planned. I know how hard it can be to trust someone. I'm not sure how to thank you for that.”

“Take her on a date!” Louis yelled from the kitchen, looking at you two through the serving window. “She’s already all ‘dolled up’” Louis mocked you.

“Keep cleaning!” you shot back. “Ignore him. He’s just dripping with sympathy since I got ditched.”

“I mean,” Bucky started, you looked over and saw him staring at his hands with nerves as his thumbs tapped against each other. “I just wouldn’t know where to take you.” he admitted under his breath.

A question instantly plagued your mind and it demanded to be asked. “Have you not...since nineteen-fifty?”

Bucky nodded with pursed lips. “You can laugh.”

You smiled at the super soldier. “Right,” you announced, pushing yourself off the stool. “Come on, I know a great dive three down.”

“A dive?” Bucky asked in disbelief, but he was still smiling.

“Yep. Where they don’t give a shit who you are as long as you're buying.” You fixed your jacket with new found enthusiasm. “You are buying, right?”

“For a doll like you,” He stood up from the stool. “I’ll buy the bar.” he held the door as you both left the little pizzeria

“Oh honey, there’s nothing like me.” you said playfully as you stepped out the door.

“Then I must be the luckiest man in the world,” he flirted, offering you his arm. You slide your hand in, curling your wrist around his bicep and off you both went.

[sombreboy]

Love Maze »1

Series masterlist  » Next ▎ 18+  ▎ pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook  ▎ genre: School AU, crack humor, smut, angst, ETL, slow burn. ▎ word count: 7.4k ▎ ch.warnings: They’re basketball boys in the school team lol, cursing, mxm, two dumb boys trying to figure their feelings, smut, anal (pls use lube irl this is fiction!), mentions of alcoholic father, some angsty feelings. Idk what else lmk, just, don’t read this if you’re sensitive to messy angsty feels, mxm smut, dumb humor & lots of cursing. A/N at the end of the post!

Taehyung didn’t know what kind of response he was expecting from Jungkook. Perhaps something like, ‘Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone, let’s forget about it.’ That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. But what he didn’t expect to read was what he received, and his body language proved that. His shoulders were tense, and his jaw was locked in place. Tae ran a hand through his damp hair, repeating Kook’s words in his head. ‘But you didn’t say we should stop..’ What the fuck kind of dumbassery was that? And why wasn’t Taehyung opposed to the idea of it?

‘‘Taehyung, the hell’s wrong with you today? Get your head in the game!’’

Those same series of words kept on repeating themselves in the back of Taehyung’s busy mind, almost taunting him in a way.

Namjoon, their team captain, had made it very clear this early morning—Six o’clock, to be exact, that Taehyung was out of it, and was lazily dragging his feet across the court.

The latter knew that Joon’s only intention was to help him, but if he hadn’t bit down on his tongue, Taehyung would’ve lost his shit. 

Who the fuck thought that it was a good idea to start practice so goddamn early in the morning?

Tae was a mixture of surprise and thankful that he didn’t just fall asleep right then and there. 

Truth be told, there was a strong urge to..

Because of this, Taehyung almost regretted staying up so late into the night slashing zombies left and right, searching for ammo, yelling profanities out of anger when someone would sneak attack him—almost. He was way too invested in his gaming to truly feel any guilt.

But, much to his shock, the boy felt a sense of guilt begin to gnaw at him throughout the day, hence why he was making his way towards the familiar gym once again. This time not half-dead.

Tae knew how much this upcoming game meant to Namjoon.

As he began to get settled in, glad that he was the only one there, Taehyung casually practiced his free throws. He challenged himself to make it from different spots in the court, succeeding in most of them.

Minutes later when he was beginning to get in the groove of things, in waltzed Jeon Jungkook.

Fucking great. Just what he needed.

Tae let out a defeated sigh, meeting the other boy’s gaze for a split second before continuing with what he was doing.

“What the hell are you doing here.” It was a mumbled question, no trace of enjoyment laced in his lower tone.

Jungkook glanced at Taehyung, their eyes met for a split second as he walked in. Tae's snarky comment had Jungkook roll his tongue on the inside of his cheek with annoyance, glaring with furrowed eyebrows as he went to the opposed side of the play field. He brought his own basketball, bouncing it a few times to make sure it had enough air, "To practice, what the hell does it look like?" He scoffed before the loud echo of the basketball was the only sound coming from his end of the court.

A sour scoff originated from the back of Taehyung’s throat, whom in response to Jungkook’s presence tried to show off by shooting the basketball from a further position.

“Yeah,” The boy began, extending out his arms, “you need lots of practice, alright.”

He successfully made it into the net.

Call him childish, but the little smile tugging at the corners of his lips was getting hard to ignore..

Ever since the age of eight, when Jungkook was introduced to his group of friends, Tae enjoyed finding different ways to irk him.

From chasing him around the playground with a worm in his hand, bumping shoulders into him whenever he felt like it, to making fun of his Basketball skills.. it was amusing, he couldn’t lie.

“Hey, you.” The taller didn’t bother referring to ‘you’ by his name, “We should play against each other. You could learn a few things from me.”

Jungkook grit his teeth, dashing towards his hoop to jump up and slam dunk the basketball into the hoop, much harder than intended. He’d been working out a lot lately, and his strength was finally showing, and he couldnt wait to wipe that grin off Tae's face.

"Eat shit," he frowned, but he accepted his challenge, "Fine." He threw his ball to the side, getting ready to sprint towards him with a speed completely new to the elder. Taehyung would be lying if he said he wasn’t the least bit fazed by the look of determination in Jungkook’s eyes.

This wasn’t the Jungkook he knew, who the hell was this person?

However, he wouldn’t let the younger scare him, no matter how often he tried to play the “Big Wolf”.

It was pathetic, really.

Those pretty eyes didn’t compliment that facade at all.

“Nah, I’ll pass,” Taehyung smirked, sharp eyes hooded as he studied the other’s every movement.

Tauntingly bouncing the ball in front of the younger, Tae managed to dodge the figure coming towards him and instead charged towards the opposite net. Nothing but determined to one-up Jungkook.

It was always a struggle, it didn't matter if Jungkook was stronger, Taehyung would always seem to be faster, one step ahead of the game. He quickly turned on his heels, the sole of his shoes squeaking against the floor as he sprints to catch up with Taehyung, trying his hardest to push himself to use his strength to attempt to jump in front of Tae before he'd be able to throw the ball.

Much to his dismay, Jungkook actually manages to bat the ball in a different direction midair, preventing Taehyung from scoring his shot.

Now he just feels like a dumbass..

He doesn’t stop there, though. 

Instead of backing out, Taehyung’s drive only soars through the roof. The latter wasn’t about to let Kook show him how it’s done.

He was the one in charge.

In a swift movement, after running across the court whilst dribbling the ball, Taehyung jumped up in the air and made it even.

“Back in the game, baby!” The taller cheered, pumping a fist in the air.

Time seemed to get lost the more time they spent playing against each other, and surprisingly, Taehyung didn’t seem to mind it.

Jungkooks dark curls was clinging to the sweaty skin of his face, heavy shallow breaths taken as they kept playing against one another for quite a while. It was rather fun, and it gave Jungkook the energy and drive to keep going, keep trying his best. They were both extremely skilled, so the game kept going even back and forth, the competitive tension stronger than ever--but he was getting tired.. his muscles ached, his body coated in a layer of glistening sweat.

“Getting tired already, Kook?” Taehyung playfully snarked, completely disregarding the fact that he was also drenched with sweat from running from one end to the other over and over again.

“That’s weak.” He wouldn’t admit that, though. “Come on, one last match.” The boy stated, his defined stomach on full display as he used the end of his Jersey to wipe at his face.

Not bothering waiting for an answer, Tae hoped that the challenging look in his eyes was enough to draw Jungkook in.

As he began dribbling the ball, waiting to see what the younger’s next move would be, Taehyung began charging towards the familiar net, passion evident in his face when—POW!—He tripped on his undone shoelace and fell on top of Jungkook.

“Fuck..” He hissed, feeling some minor pain emerge from his lower leg but thankfully, Kook’s body was there to act as a cushion.

After the taller managed to redeem himself (to the best of his abilities), he brought up his face from Kook’s chest to look down at the other.

Taehyung’s hands were placed on either side of Jungkook’s head, chest heaving and sweat beads streaming down his temples.

He didn’t know why, but his body wouldn’t move away from its position. It was like he was stuck there.. face so close to Jungkook’s..

Everything happened so fast that one moment Jungkook was preparing to charge towards Taehyung, and the next he was on his back on the floor, something heavy weighing him down. He opened his eyes, and they blew wide as soon as he saw the view above. Taehyung was so sweaty, and he looked... incredibly good up close. Jungkook froze, holding his breath and it felt like his heart skipped several beats, his arms laying limp above his head in such a position that had him feeling vulnerable. The tension between the two was so strong, at this point he wasn’t able to differentiate whether it was pure anger or pure lust that flowed through his entire being.

‘What the fuck is going on..?’ Taehyung asked himself, swallowing down all of his remaining questions in the shape of a strong gulp.

“Uh..” Was all he had to say, continuing to stare down at Jungkook like an intrigued weirdo, eyes skimming over the little details on the younger’s face. From the small scar on the side of his cheek, to the beauty marks perfectly placed on his skin.. Tae was infatuated.

He would never, in a million years say that out loud, but was he thinking it..

The boy wanted to say something like, “Wow, you’re even uglier up close,” but that was so far off from the truth, it would be a sin.

The heat erupting in Jungkooks body made itself known through the shade of red creeping on his cheeks, feeling himself getting flustered. Why wasn't Tae moving away? Why didnt he say something? But then again, he was completely frozen in place as well, having nothing to counter with. His lips fell open, a quiet breath escaping his lips, unable to find the words he was so desperately seeking.

Before he could tell right from wrong, Taehyung’s lips met Jungkook’s in an awkward kiss, hesitating at the start before finally gaining the courage to move them against the younger’s a little more naturally.

It was slow at first, Tae’s bigger hand cupping the side of Kook’s face, not wanting him to pull away by any means.

His thumb found itself caressing over that same scar he took notice of not too long ago, Taehyung’s own cheeks overtaken by a rosy hue.

Then, like the spell had been broken, Tae broke the kiss.

“Fuck.. uh..”

He looked like an absolute dumbass, didn’t he?

“You should use some lip balm, or something.” The boy cleared his throat, still not parting their bodies.

Something was wrong with him.

Jungkook was dumbfounded, staring at Taehyung as if he was a deer in headlights. Fuck, this was confusing. He had been struggling with how he felt towards Tae, trying so hard to suppress his feelings for him, and now feeling his lips in a kiss, his hand gently touching his cheek, it was as if all of the walls he had been building up around this enigma called Taehyung was slowly crumbling down. It was terrifying, and it clouded his thoughts, now all he could think about was the desperate need to feel those lips on his once more, "A-again..." He whispered, so quietly it was barely audible, almost hoping Taehyung wouldnt hear it.

Taehyung heard it. Clearly.

And he didn’t budge when it came to giving Jungkook what he wanted.

Tae kissed the other once more, gently sucking onto his bottom lip as if asking for entrance, for permission to take it one step further.

The older’s hand slowly traveled down to Jungkook’s waist, snaking under the boy’s Jersey, gently squeezing at the bare skin, feeling Jungkook’s sweat against the palm of his hand.

Suddenly, a drive to feel more hit Taehyung like a truck. 

Teasingly, the taller’s slender fingers brushed over Jungkook’s nipple as he stared down at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Searching for a bigger reaction, Tae squeezed on the perky bud, lightly tugging at it here and there. Meanwhile, his hooded eyes were set on studying every movement in the younger’s face.

Jungkooks parted his lips even further in a gasp, allowing the kiss to deepen. He whimpered quietly, extremely responsive under Taehyungs ministrations on his nipple. His cheeks were more than just pink now, but a shade of rosey red, his chest starting to heave up and down heavier. His entire body was aching for him to do more, anything, and he was almost ready to beg at this point, eyes pleading with tae to continue

The sight of the younger’s body reacting in such a way was enough to awaken more than just Taehyung’s inner want for more; he felt himself begin to envision what it would be like if they took it a couple steps further, Jungkook whimpering.. just like he was now, so quiet yet so loud to Tae’s ears.

By now, the tent in the latter’s shorts had made itself obvious as his fingers continued to rub over Jungkook’s nipple, pinching the tip just for the fun of it.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, hm?” The older’s already deep voice seemed to get an octave deeper. 

Taehyung finally pulled himself up from his spot on the ground, before extending out a hand for the other to take. If he wasn’t so clouded with lust, Tae would’ve been embarrassed at the fact that he had a massive boner in front of Jungkook.

But, as he led the younger downstairs, smaller hand in his, that was the least of his worries.

Jungkook nodded, eyes flickering between their joined hands and the floor as he blindly followed Taehyung to whever he'd take him. At this point, he'd go wherever for this man, his heart pounding heavily as he felt his own erection strain the fabric of his pants, lips pressed tightly together to keep his whimpers in check.

Taehyung halted in his quick steps upon reaching the familiar locker room, hand letting go of Jungkook’s as he peeked his head around, trying to make sure they were the only ones around.

Thankfully, no one else was in sight.

The older reluctantly turned back around to face Kook, hesitating on whether or not to place his hands on the latter’s waist.

At the end, he said ‘fuck it’ and needily pulled Jungkook close to him by the waist, trying so hard not to listen to the consciousnes in the back of his head..

With a bit of hesitation, Taehyung’s lips aimed for the crook of the younger’s neck, nuzzling his face into the warmth before beginning to press open-mouthed kisses along the skin.

He gently sucked on a spot, nibbling on it teasingly, wanting nothing more than to make Jungkook enjoy it just as much as he did.

“Tae...” Jungkook breathed out his name with a quiet moan, sensitive to every single touch. He places his hands palms flat on Tae’s chest, granting the man access to his neck by moving his head to the side. His needy erection grew harder, leaving little to the imagination through his basketball shorts. The aching throb between his legs was screaming for attention, however he did enjoy the slow buildup

The older, as much as he was turned on, didn’t quite know how to tackle this sudden.. urge to feel Jungkook; all of him.

Sure, he’s had sex in the past, too many times to keep track of. But he’d never gotten this close to another guy before.

It was one thing to watch gay porn, but when it actually came to showcasing what he’d seen through a screen.. it was nerve wracking.

Tae didn’t know where to begin.

The taller pulled his Jersey over his head, leaving him shirtless in front of the younger. 

He guessed that was a better start than none.

However, almost as if someone else had taken over him, Taehyung drove Jungkook’s body back against the lockers, his kissing more rough, and his leg placed in the middle of the younger’s.

Jungkooks back hit the lockers with a loud thud, a yelp drowning in his throat, muffled by Tae’s lips. His jaw fell slack, granting the man access to his mouth. His body was almost shaking, this feeling and need so overwhelming that his skin is hypersensitive to every bit of attention it receives. This was like a dream, it felt surreal, how did he end up here? What was going to happen later? His thoughts were drowned out when he felt the friction of Tae’s leg against his crotch, and he wishes so desperately to be touched, rutting subtly against his thigh.

Growing needier by the second, Taehyung pulled away from their heated kiss to undo the strings in his shorts, hands shaky as they fumbled with the fabric.

The older’s bottom lip got caught in between his teeth in concentration, overgrown fringe falling down on his eyes like a curtain; a lot of secrets hidden behind his intense gaze.

Once he was left standing in just his boxers, Taehyung’s hands now tugged at Kook’s clothing, wanting to make it even.

In the heat of the moment, a little chuckle slipped past the older’s lips, “What the fuck kind of boxers are you wearing..?”

His eyes amusingly skimmed over the patterns engraved in the soft fabric, holding back his laughter.

Jungkook frowned, his cheeks on fire as he averted Taehyungs eyes, “fuck you...” he hissed, but his voice came out weaker than he wished it did. It cracked at the end into a whine, only causing his embarrassment to grow further. He was so vulnerable like this, exposed to the man that he’s been pining for, the very man he’s been trying to suppress his emotions for, trying to hate him. But he couldn’t. His hands were clawing at Tae’s shoulders, pressing his back against the wall to get some room to breathe within the thick intensity of the moment.

If he wasn’t such at a loss for words, Tae would’ve taken this opportunity to make fun of Jungkook, but it seemed like his mouth was too dry to even utter a letter.

His gaze traveled from the younger’s dorky boxers to his small waist, then to his abs.. his chest, neck, and lastly to his face.

Suddenly, Taehyung got the confidence to speak at the sight.

“You shy, Kook?” He smirked, not failing to take notice of the splash of red dusted on his cheeks.

He looked so.. vulnerable. Taehyung wanted to jump at the chance to corrupt him.

The older parted their distance, looking down at Jungkook with so much hunger in his eyes before swiftly turning him around, pressing his bulge against the younger’s ass.

Tae’s lips hovered above the other’s shoulders, pressing more kisses onto the side of his neck as he teasingly grinded his hips into Jungkook, getting that desperate friction he needed.

''N-no, a-ah...!'' He gave up on trying to argue him, another small noise drowning in his throat when he gets turned around, placing his palms flat against the lockers, his chest pressing against the cold surface. He whimpers when he feels Tae's lips on his neck, shivers running down his spine, goosebumps appearing on his skin. If anybody saw him in this state, his whole image as a jocked bad boy would be completely ruined. But at this moment, nothing mattered. Nothing mattered more than the greedy desperation he feels for Taehyung, he couldn't be physically satiated until he got everything. Jungkook bit his lower lip to prevent more whimpers from escaping, but to no avail, his pathetic noises muffled as his hips press back against Taehyung, his plump ass rubbing against the large bulge pressing on his behind.

Even Taehyung struggled to hold back his noises of pleasure as he stared down at the way Jungkook’s ass moved against him.. 

“Fuck..” The older grunted, increasing his pace as he continued to grind against Kook, but, that wasn’t enough.

He needed more.

In one swift movement, the boy’s underwear found itself down to his ankles, his cock springing up to slap against one of Jungkook’s cheek.

Now that various of thoughts rushed into his head, 90% of them were questions.

Had the younger even been fucked by a guy before?

Was he okay with this?

Shit—Taehyung didn’t want to think about that.

So, he settled for dismissing all of his thoughts and worries. How much more different could it be?

In a hurry, Tae soon tugged at Jungkook’s boxers as well, now leaving them both naked to the eye.

Fuck, Jungkook had a nice ass.

After gulping at the view in front of him, Taehyung brought two fingers up to his mouth, coating them with his warm saliva before aligning them to the smaller’s hole.

Without thinking twice about it, the older’s digits pushed past the initial rim of muscle.

He began curl and uncurl his fingers inside of Kook, making scissoring motions as well.

“You like that?” Taehyung leaned in to breathe onto the nape of his neck, the squelching noises of his fingers now pumping in and out of Jungkook bouncing off the walls of the locker room.

Jungkook held his breath at first, his body tensing up, but as he felt the wet digits against his ass he took deep, slow breaths to relax. Slowly, as Tae thankfully worked him gently, his wet fingers warm and thick, it wasn't uncomfortable. He wasn't unfamiliar with the sensation of fingers, as he's done it to himself countless of times, but Taehyung's fingers were larger, and with the obvious fact that they weren’t his own, they reached so much farther than his own ever could. Jungkook pressed his cheek against the cold surface of the locker, whispering out 'yes' to the question thrown at him, lips fallen apart as he no longer can remain silent, a sudden high pitched whimper rolling off his lips when Tae reached a certain spot inside of him. Jungkook was surprised by himself, not aware he could even make such a lewd noise.

As a response to Jungkook’s unexpected whimper, Taehyung’s fingers only worked faster than before. He pressed them further into him, wanting to reach Kook’s deepest places in hopes of hearing more of his moans.

The younger was so fucking tight; his cock couldn’t wait to get a taste of it.

After a few more minutes of Taehyung stretching him out, adding in an extra finger or two.. massaging Jungkook’s warm walls, he decided it was time to climb up the ladder.

Without any proper lube in sight, Tae opted for spitting onto the palm of his hand before beginning to jerk himself off, wanting to ensure all of his length was covered.

Taehyung might hate Jungkook’s guts, but he didn’t wish to hurt him.

Resting one hand on the younger’s shoulder, Tae used the other to direct his throbbing cock into the smaller’s entrance.

He could only get the tip in at first, as Kook was that tight.

“Shit.” The boy cursed, having to re-align himself before using some force to hopefully fit all of the remaining inches.

“A-ah.. fuck yeah..” Taehyung breathed out, biting down on his lip as he gradually planted himself deeper into the younger.

This felt.. new.

He was overtaken by a sudden blanket of warmth as he slowly began to move his hips, sinking his nails into Jungkook’s shoulder.

''Oh my g-- f-fuuck....'' Jungkook cried out as Taehyung moved inside of him, the feeling so overwhelming, he felt so full. His hands curled into fists against the locker, the urge to almost punch into the metal surface because he didn't know what to do with every feeling that was overtaking him. It hurt a little, and the whines he makes were a mix of pain and pleasure, but with every slow stroke against his insides, the pleasure overtook the pain, and his breathing turned into needy, shallow gasps.

When seeing Jungkook begin to visibly relax in front of him, the older’s thrusting gradually increased in speed. The hand that wasn’t holding onto Kook’s shoulder sneaked it’s way to the latter’s heaving chest, freely roaming around the soft skin before stopping at its desired destination.

With a harsh slap of Taehyung’s pelvis on Jungkook’s cheeks, the sound of their skin clashing against one another became more audible as Tae picked up his harshness. 

“So tight..”

He hastily licked over his index finger before placing it back on the other’s nipple, multitasking while quickly flicking the perky bud and ramming into Jungkook’s hole.

Tae found himself holding back a bit, not using all of his strength just yet. 

Just from the way the younger’s body had reacted to his fingers, Taehyung could tell this was new for Jungkook as well.

“So fucking good,” He hissed, hiding his sweaty face in the crook of the smaller’s neck whilst continuing to pound him from the back.

Jungkook's moans gradually became louder and breathier with every few thrusts, his hips starting to move on their own to meet Taehyung's advancing hips, sweat dripping from his face down his neck, his dark curls clinging to his skin, ''T-taehyu--ung..'' He cried out, glancing down to see the sinful sight of his nipple being played with, then down to his untouched cock, swollen and needy for friction. But even if he didn't receive any attention on there, he feels like he could still cum from the way his insides were abused either way, and it was an amazing feeling, he never wanted it to end, ''H-harder, harder, please...s-shit...'' His words were barely coherent, his voice higher in pitch, his legs starting to shake in bliss.

“Harder, huh?”

He repeatedly rubbed against Jungkook’s prostate, not sparing the latter any mercy as Taehyung began to unwind; he was letting down his defenses.

If Kook was ready for more, then he was going to give it to him.

The taller’s broad chest heaved from exhaustion, but he pushed through it nonetheless.

He wanted to catch a glimpse of Jungkook’s expression as he came, knowing it was bound to come soon.

Taehyung’s hand traveled down to the dip in the other’s back, pressing down on it so that Kook’s ass could press further against him. 

The taller took notice of how Jungkook’s peach had taken on the color red, the corner of his lip inching upwards proudly.

“Ah.. fuuck,” Taehyung cursed out, feeling a familiar pooling of warmth begin to settle in his lower stomach the more his hips snapped against Kook.

Jungkook turned his head to the side, leaning his cheek against his arms that now served as protection from having his head repeatedly jolting against the lockers. His knees were growing weak, but it got easier when he had his back arched, however it changed the way Tae's cock was angled, and he felt himself being brought closer to the edge with every snap of their hips. His cock was desperate, aching and dripping with precum, it was more than ready to explode. When he couldn't take it anymore, he reached down with one of his hands to squeeze his shaft firmly, easing the painful aching by just a tad bit, ''I'm g-gonna.... '' His voice cracked into a sob, being so on edge but not quite able to get over the hurdle just yet was such a powerful feeling.

Taehyung’s cock snapped harder and deeper into Jungkook, feeling his energy falter, his thrusts lazy and out of rhythm.

The taller was close to his peak, and it was clear by the way his eyebrows were pinched together, lips slightly agape as heavy puffs of air slipped past them. 

Every inch of Taehyung’s body was enjoying this.

“Are you..?” Before he was given the chance to finish his question, Kook’s broken voice was his answer.

Wanting to drive the both of them to ejaculation, Taehyung didn’t hold himself back. Not one bit.

After many curses, grunts, and moans later, the older’s cock twitched inside of Jungkook like a volcano before breaking loose, some of his cum seen trickling down the boy’s entrance.

“Fuck..” Tae whispered, having trouble regaining his breath.

Still panting, Taehyung pulled himself out of Jungkook before leaning his sweaty back against one of the lockers, thankful for the cool touch on his skin.

Jungkook came hard, his insides filled with cum and the floor beneath him stained with a pool of his own flowed, his cock twitching heavily in his hand as he jerks himself dry, a loud, drawn out cry echoing in the room. His voice was hoarse from all the moaning. Jungkook gasped quietly, breaths shallow and quick when he feels Tae withdraw himself, pulling out from his ass. The wet, thick sensation of Tae's seed dribbles down on the back of his thigh, and he could no longer hold his body up as he dropped to his knees within the mess of their cum, holding on to the bench. He didn't dare to look back, not yet. The way he had acted, and spoken was completely new. He didn't know how much he enjoyed being the subsmissive in this scenario, and now it'd just be another thing Taehyung would bully him for. Unless... Maybe, this was a changing point. Jungkook glanced back at the taller man, still working on catching his breath.

The second Taehyung had been caught sneaking a glimpse towards Jungkook’s direction, he quickly snapped his head the other way, jaw clenched.

“Uh, I um..” He didn’t know where to begin. 

Should he begin at the kiss they shared on the dirty gymnasium floor?

..At the way he nipped at Jungkook’s skin?

When he toyed with the younger’s nipples..?

Just where the hell should he start?

“I’m gonna go.” Taehyung cleared his throat, not sparing the other another glance, suddenly feeling disgusted with what he’d done.

He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing back the strands that once stuck to his forehead when he began to dress himself, not wanting to spend another second naked in front of him..

‘What the fuck did I do?’ 

Taehyung repeated to himself, his back facing Jungkook as he struggled to make sense of his actions.

Without another word, he left Kook in the empty locker room, eyes trained ahead as Tae only had one motive: To get the fuck out of there.

Jungkook quietly watched as Tae left him, naked and alone in the locker room. He felt disgusting, used. On wobbly legs, he got up, groaning quietly at the wetness between his cheeks. He decided to take a quick shower, using the one by the locker room, turning the heat up so high that steam filled the room, letting the water boil at his skin, ''Fuck...'' He hissed, still unable to focus as all his mind keeps going back to, is the way Taehyung sounded while ramming into him, the rough but delicate ministrations of his hips, ''Get out of my head.. Fucker, fucker..'' Jungkook turned the water ice cold, numbing himself from thinking, freezing seemed to help better. After a long while, he got out, dried himself and got dressed in his normal clothes, packing his basketball outfit into the backpack he'd brought and exited the locker room. How was he ever gonna face Tae again? Were they a thing? Did they still hate eachother? Jungkook himself wasn't sure, but he never did hate him. He needed to find this out eventually, or it'd gnaw at his mind.

When Taehyung made his way to the school’s parking lot— about to angrily throw his backpack onto the backseat of his crappy car, he was met by Namjoon as he pulled up into the spot next to him.

“Yo, Taehyung!” Joon’s voice rang, stepping out of his car when he was met by a harsh welcome.

“Listen, if you’re gonna continue to bitch at me about this morning, I’m not in the fucking mood, alright? I already stayed after to practice.”

The younger drifted off, failing to catch the look of confusion attached to Namjoon’s face as he focused on remaining his cool, hands unconsciously balled up into fists at his sides.

“Tae.. I was just gonna say hey?”

The older’s brows furrowed, internally questioning why Taehyung’s panties were in such a twist.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?”

Namjoon crossed his arms over his chest, “You okay?”

He hoped that if he asked enough questions, it would be enough for Taehyung to give in.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” 

Apparently Joon forgot he was talking to the Kim Taehyung, he should’ve never expected Tae to open up to him.

The only time the younger actually told him something somewhat personal was in fourth grade, when he admitted he, “needed to go poop.”

Not believing him for one second, Namjoon struggled to drop the subject. But, he noticed how much Taehyung looked like he wanted to get out of there, so he let it go.

“Well.. fine. Just know you can always talk to me, alright?” Joon said as he watched him get in his car, meeting Taehyung’s dimmed eyes for a split second before the latter drove away, far too fast for a school zone.

With a sigh, Namjoon brushed off their encounter for the moment being and made his way into the familiar doors. He’d forgotten his basketball uniform in his locker, and it was safe to say, it was time for a deep cleaning.

Just as he was about to make his way downstairs, he took notice of Jungkook.

“Kook!” He called out, waiting to meet him at the top.

“What are you doing here?” Namjoon didn’t fail to notice Jungkook’s small limp, hesitating whether or not to ask him about it.

“I saw Tae leaving as well, he was pissed off— wait a minute,” The Captain’s eyes widened, “you guys didn’t get into a fight, right? Is that why you’re limping?”

Nine times out of ten, Joon was the one who broke off their stupid arguments. It wouldn’t surprise him if things had actually gotten out of hand this time around.

Jungkook tensed, looking up at Namjoon with surprise. He quickly straightened his posture, ''Hi, I uh...'' He's never been a good liar, but he knows he couldn't tell anybody about this. Could he? Should he? No fucking way, Taehyung would literally strangle him to death. Jungkook's eyes flickered between Namjoon's before nodding hurriedly, ''Yeah, we got into a fight, it was nothing,'' He bounced on his leg a little, gritting his teeth to endure the small pain jolting through him, pretending his body is fine, ''I'm fine. I uh, I have to go now, so.. '' He shifted his weight between his feet, muscles in his legs aching as he just wanted to get away, starting to walk past Namjoon as he grips the strap of his backpack harder.

Namjoon let out one of his ‘shocked, but not surprised’ sighs, “Just ignore each other, how hard can it be?”

He mumbled, rubbing at his temples in utter frustration.

Joon wanted to say more, but Jungkook insisted he had to go.

So, he pressed his lips together, knowing he tended to overstep in people’s personal problems. It was a little flaw of his, but really he just wanted to help.

“Alright well.. see you tomorrow.” Namjoon waved the younger off, waiting until Kook was out of sight to do all of his pondering.

With a light shrug of his shoulders, Namjoon stayed put for one more second before making his way downstairs.

He just needed to remind himself to talk to Taehyung and Jungkook tomorrow morning, more like scold them.

Joon couldn’t have two of his best players take their anger out on each other, not when a big game was near.

Plus, they were his friends, so part of him worried about their own safety.

Jungkook was exhausted, and he had no car, so he sighed loudly as he opted to simply walk towards his place. It wasn't terribly far, but a good 20 minute walk. Actually, with a limp, make it 30...

As he finally made it home, he threw the backpack on the floor, and laid down on his stomach on the bed with a grunt. He had no energy left, but yet his mind went on to think about Taehyung. Where was he now? What was he up to? Did he think about him too? What the fuck is going to happen from now on... 

Namjoon on the other hand, had gone through the lockers to grab his forgotten clothes, but also making sure nobody forgot anything. As he made his way towards the door to get out of there, he almost slipped, catching himself last second, ''What the hell..''

Joon looked down on his feet, a sticky mess stuck to the sole of his shoe, smeared along the floor in a small puddle. He crouched down, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He took off his shoe to wash it, and before putting it under the tap water he smelled it and scrunched his nose, making a face, ''What the fuck is thi-'' His eyes widen when he realized exactly what it is, it's fucking cum. He washes it off, luckily he's got a very strong stomach, not easily disgusted by the liquid itself. However, he was wondering why the hell it was there in the first place. He pondered for a long while as he cleaned it up, being the way he is, and took his things and started leaving. His mind would rewind to when he met Taehyung earlier, he had just left the practice hall... Just moments before Jungkook, ''No way...''

He countered himself, but before he knew it, he had connected the dots for a possible scenario. So, Taehyung did not want to talk about something he was upset over, and Jungkook was limping, obviously in a hurry to leave... And then there was cum on the floor. Namjoon felt dizzy, rubbing his neck as he blinked several times, ''So they weren't fighting?''

Taehyung dreaded going home; he despised stepping into an environment that, in fact, didn’t feel like home at all. But, the more he drove further away from the school, the anger in his mind not having quite evaporated into nothingness yet, Tae figured ‘home’ was his only option.

He just prayed his deadbeat of a father wasn’t there, or if he was, that he wasn’t drowning his liver with one alcoholic beverage after the other.

It was a long shot, but the boy could hope.

After countless road rage moments later, Taehyung managed to pull up to his driveway without a single scratch.

Considering what happened last time, this was great news. 

That reminded Tae, he needed to get his left view mirror replaced. It’s been a couple of days that he’d driven without it.

His heartbeat began to pound wildly against his ribcage after stepping foot into the medium-sized house, asking himself if he was the only one home. 

Well, Taehyung guessed there was only one way to find out. Shutting the door behind him and carelessly letting his bag drop to the ground, the latter’s sharp eyes carefully raked around the living room, glad to see it was left untouched.

Then, for the biggest test of all, he opened up the refrigerator door.

Yes. The pack of beers were still in tact.

Without thinking twice about it, Taehyung reached for a bottle. He /needed/ some alcohol, having grown tired of thinking too much into things. Maybe this way he’ll learn to loosen up, his head hurt like a bitch.

For the remaining of time, Tae spent it up in his room, mindlessly browsing through his social media while occasionally downing the cold beer in his hand. 

Sooner than he expected, the day’s light no longer peaked through the curtain cracks, and Taehyung couldn’t tell if it was because of the light alcohol in his system, or his inner fear of what could happen, but his finger found itself hovering above Jungkook’s contact.

Being a part of the basketball team, everyone was told to exchange numbers on the first day. 

Namjoon made him and Kook cooperate, and now Taehyung might actually have an excuse to use it.

[Taehyung]: JK, don’t tell anyone about what happened, got it?...Use some panthenol on your butt, I read somewhere it should help with the pain or whatever.

Taehyung hesitated whether or not to include the last part, but he couldn’t be bothered to question himself anymore, so he pressed ‘send’.

Jungkook was laying in his bed when the phone chimed, groaning lightly as he stretched out to reach for the device laying on the floor next to his bed. When he saw the contact name, he coughed as he almost choked on his own breath, and out of reflex he threw the phone across the room, “Oh fuck...” 

He was anxious, not knowing what this text would contain. It could be anything! What if he told him to never fucking come back to practice? Or that he’s going to kill him!... or.. something else?

Jungkook sighed as he got up off the bed, slowly walking over to fish his phone back into his hands that were shaking as he unlocked the screen. 

“Don’t tell anyone about what happened...” he read it out loud to himself, and he felt like his chest tightened. Of course he’d say that. But, he didn’t say it couldn’t happen again.. he didn’t say to fuck off out of his life forever.

He read the ending of the text and almost felt like his lips were twitching into a dumb smile, because it was so unlike Taehyung to sound like he almost cared about him. Or at least his ass.

Jungkook hovered over the texting pad before he started to tap at the screen, 

[JK]: Got it. But you didn’t say we should stop.. p.s thx for the butt tip.

Jungkook cringed at his own text, but was too tired at this point to overthink it as he tapped the send button. He had to know, or his soul would disintegrate. He already wanted more, and he hated himself for it. Why would he fall in love with the most emotionally blocked person on earth! Jungkook sighed with a frustrated groan following before throwing his head into a pillow to scream out his overwhelming feelings.

With a towel loosely wrapped around his waist, and toothbrush still in his mouth, Taehyung had just gotten out of the shower when he heard his phone’s familiar chime on the bedside table. Unable to put off his curiosity for after he was done getting ready for bed, Tae carelessly jumped onto his mattress, reaching over for the device before taking a look at who it was.

‘JK’

He felt that all knowing sensation of tightness in his chest, anxiety piercing through his veins. But, deciding that he wasn’t a pussy, Taehyung quickly tapped on the younger’s message.

After reading over it multiple times, he found himself still at a loss for words.

Honestly, Taehyung didn’t know what kind of response he was expecting from Jungkook.

Perhaps something like, ‘Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone, let’s forget about it.’ 

That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.

But what he didn’t expect to read was what he received, and his body language proved that. His shoulders were tense, and his jaw was locked in place.

Tae ran a hand through his damp hair, repeating Kook’s words in his head.

‘But you didn’t say we should stop..’

What the fuck kind of dumbassery was that? And why wasn’t Taehyung opposed to the idea of it?

..Why couldn’t he stop thinking about it ever since he got home?

It got to the point where every time he looked down at his dick, he would be reminded of Jungkook.

God, his whimpers..

Taehyung was definitely out of it, surely the beer had something to do with it.

“Fuck.” He groaned out loud, closing his eyes for a moment. 

He should just forget about it, pretend it never happened..

But something told him that was easier said than done.

Throwing his phone to the side, Taehyung decided he’d thought enough for one day, mind starting to blank every few seconds because of it.

He needed to sleep it off, and hopefully by tomorrow morning, everything would just blow off.

Shit, he was already dreading having to face Jungkook at practice, but it was a given.

Jungkook kept glancing over at his phone from time to time, sighing when he realizes that Tae wasn't going to answer him. He wasn't surprised though, why would he? This was a lot, he should've just said something else, anything, that wasn't putting their entire dynamic on the table. But he had to do it. He couldn't not do it... After a while, Jungkook's eyes felt heavy, burying his face into his pillow until he fell asleep, still replaying the way Tae's skin felt on his.

A/N: Surprise! This is part one of a series co-written with @velvetwicebang​, (whom also made the banner!) this is a DM rp we’ve had going on for a while and I really wanted to share it(and keep it for myself to re read) because their writing is just too amazing!

Also, this is NOT Yandere! This is vastly different from my other content, but I hope many of you will love it either way.

© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[stonecoldjerseyfox]

Jersey on my mind (part 30)

“It’s gonna be a great day.” 

Daryl turns his head from the robin, sitting on the ridge of a roof, further away and that he’s been fixing his gaze on for the past half an hour and observes Rick. His friend lets down his shoulders and relaxes his spine, takes a deep breath and lets himself take in the silent calmness of the morning surrounding them. He’s right. It’s gonna be a beautiful day. 

The breeze hasn’t even bothered to wake up today. It’s the two of them, the robin, who sings his morning song, to announce that a new day has begun, and the walkers. 

“Yeah.” 

“Gotta continue working on the wall.” Rick proclaims, as if to create a to-do list in his head of today’s chores. “Check blueprints, find materials. Gotta go on a run.”

“Great.” Daryl replies and nods at Rick. He’ll get to go, he knows it, and he doesn’t mind. As if he were a tame fox, who no matter how domestic it may seem, constantly needs a certain degree of freedom and nature. But he doesn’t mind returning back here either. Not anymore. “I’ll go.” He continues. “Just tell me whatcha’ need.”

“Yep.” Rick takes another deep breath. “What a day.” 

His sudden discovery of nature, the surroundings and an overbearing serenity hasn’t sprung from nothing. He watched by Carl’s side for days. Didn’t sleep, didn’t eat properly, not until Carl sat up in bed and ate himself. The eye was completely destroyed and had to be removed. Thanks to Denise, Rosita, Tara and Mila, who, thanks to her previous profession as a dental nurse, knew how to sterilize scalpels and tools, as well as use sedatives and anesthetics. Thanks to their care, Carl got better, as did Rick. 

“What time is it?” Rick says. “Seven, or eight?”

“Prolly.” Daryl looks at the sun. He watched it rise, heard the birds wake up. Rick joined him shortly after. “Early.” 

“Ya’ wanna go back to the house?” Rick asks. “Get some rest?” 

“Nah.” 

Rick fixates him with his gaze, very ‘nice cop’-like, yet friendly and somewhat cheeky. 

“When I first met Lori-” Rick says, then smiles faintly, chuckles. “Boy, I was- Couldn’t eat properly. Couldn’t sleep. Like I went around in a haze and just thought ‘bout her.”

Daryl nods a little, smiles very faintly, but inside of his chest, his heart takes a skip. 

Has it been two days, forty-eight hours ago he went downstairs holding hands with Jersey when everyone was eating breakfast at the big table? 

After their escapade in the shower, resulting in soaking clothes that had to sundry at the porch roof, they stayed in the bedroom for the entire day. Juri wasn’t in bed when they came out from the bathroom, holding their soaking wet clothes. The smell of breakfast toasts was enough for Mila to understand that Juri was downstairs. Daryl left late in the afternoon, to join a group that has started to create a temporary barricade at the broken wall. Carol brought a late dinner to the working group. 

“How strange, I think I saw these particular clothes sunbathing on the porch roof earlier.” She said cheekily and bumped his hip, while he took a bite of a sandwich.

“Shut up.” Daryl scoffed softly. 

“Pookie.” Carol grinned and shook her head.

He returned late and when he entered the bedroom again, both Mila and Juri were asleep, spooning each other on the bed surrounded by books, soft toys and cassette tapes. He sat down in the comfortable chair, didn’t feel like waking ‘em up by laying down next to them, where he fell asleep. 

Their presence downstairs the morning after that was a silent, visual proclamation that yeah, it was the two of ‘em now’. Or the three of them, including the kid wedged at Mila’s hip in his pajamas, barely awake, but determined to not skip breakfast. Daryl’s heart pounded harder than ever in his chest as they settled on the ground floor, next to each other in front of the entire Atlanta group at the table. Harder than when he stood in the yard as a child and saw the house, his home, burn down to the ground with his mother in it. But it was different. As if his chest was flooded with a warm, deep sense of pride, a sense of belonging. The group hadn’t, thankfully, made a big scene of the silent announcement, which was as big of a deal to him as if he’d announced he’d become the president of the whole damn united states of whatever. It was clear to him, when they sat down at the table, set with pancakes and toast, that the others had already put two and two together. Was it Carol who blabbed, or was it by any chance Rick? Anyway they took it without any fuss. Thankfully. He’d never pull through such a questioning. 

But Rick’s right, to some extent. He’s been in a constant haze for awhile now. He can’t put his finger on when the haze was inevitable, must’ve been during their walk to the gas station, but might just as well be earlier. She had a special impact on him from the start. Those blue, piercing eyes looking at him over the barrel of the gun after they’d saved him and Aaron. He can’t get enough of ‘em. 

“Guess ya’ right.” He therefore says. Why would he lie? Apparently they’re the talk of the town now anyway. Jeez. As if the townies don’t have else to talk about? 

“That hurricane of- I dunno, feelings. They’re good. Validation that everything’s just- perfect.” Rick says and by doing so, puts his finger on something Daryl have felt some kind of guilt for, not always, fuck no. 

But it’s a feeling he struggles with from time to time, if just for a second or a minute. He’s not good for her, or more correctly; not good enough. But that feeling’s swept away as soon as he notices her looking at him. The blue eyes smiling at him, as a lagoon of homeliness and deep affection. 

“Never done this before.” Daryl says husky. 

“No one has.” Rick replies while looking at the robin. “There’s a first for everyone. Ya’ just- gets a hang of your own mind. The rest goes by itself.” He makes a movement, and gets up from the boards. “I’ll go get some water.” He announces. 

Rick climbs down the ladder and Daryl looks after him as he strides over to the store. He smiles faintly to himself, lets his experienced gaze wander slow and steady over the closest surroundings at the other side of the makeshift wall. A few walkers have miraculously managed to remain on the site since they made a raid and eliminated most, after the great battle. One of them seems to have ended up in a loop; over and over again it crashes into the hood of an abandoned pickup, whose tires have almost grown stuck in the asphalt, which has been taken over, slow and steady, by mother nature. 

A soft tapping on wood gets his attention. He turns his head, and happens to see something at the lower end of the ladder.  

“Mornin’.” He greets Juri, who’s small, soft hands squeezes the second step of the hard, wooden ladder. “Wanna come up, kiddo?”

Without hesitating, Juri climbs the tall ladder, with the walkman in his pocket and the headphones around his neck. The big blue eyes are determined, curious. Almost at the top of the ladder, Daryl grabs the boy by his armpits and lifts him up to the platform. The three and a half year old is an early riser and has managed to dress himself this morning too, except the shoes that Juri wiggles in front of Daryl, to tie for him.

“Ya’ gotta learn to do this on ye’re own someday, kiddo.” Daryl says and ties the tiny Chuck Taylors.

A small index finger is pointed right at him. Juri looks at him with a clever grin, as to say: ‘Well, until then, you’re doing it for me’. Yeah, that’s probably true. Daryl lets out a faint chuckle. Being bossed around by a kid is something new. 

“Ya’ mom’s asleep?”

Juri nods. Daryl smiles. Before he left the night before to join Abraham at the watchtower he checked in on Mila and Juri. Juri was tucked in for bed and Mila had curled up next to him, supported by at least four pillows, with two books about bunnies in her lap; The Velveteen Rabbit and The Naughty Bunny. 

“See ya’ in the mornin’.” Daryl said, stroking Mila’s hair. “Night, kiddo.”

The smile he received from Juri, all wrapped up under the covers with his soft toys was priceless and also followed by a thrown, open-palm kiss.  

Juri settles down next to him on the platform. He’s dressed in a pair of rust colored dungarees with a black jumper underneath. On top he wears a flannel to shield himself from the still awakening sunlight, looking very proper. The blonde hair looks half combed, as if he got tired with trying and decided to leave it be. He fiddles on the walkman, while peering out over the wall with squinting eyes.  

“Ya’ had breakfast?” Daryl asks. 

Juri doesn’t answer, obviously, but he puts his hand in the front chest pocket of the dungarees and pulls something from it. A pack of two Reese’s cups. Daryl grins. 

“Ya’ mom won’t like that.” He says, but gets an authoritarian index finger in front of the mouth, followed by a ‘shhh’ from the boy; ‘I won’t tell if you don’t tell’. “Go ahead, kiddo.” Daryl therefore says.

He watches as Juri peels the packaging open and takes out a peanut butter cup and hands it to him. They eat the chocolate-peanutty-goodies under silence. He’s amazed at the little boy, who seems to have the intellect and the ability to think like a child who is twice as old. Mila hasn’t coddled him, except smothered him with infinite amounts of motherly love, no doubt ‘bout that, but he can dress himself, make decisions on his own. He’s curious rather than scared and calculating rather than impulsive. He likes to collect stones, feathers and sticks, picks flowers, investigates bugs and likes to draw and listen to music while jumping on the bed or running around in the streets. And Daryl adores him. He’s a great kid. 

“Whatcha’ listen to?” Daryl nods at the walkman between the small hands. 

Juri removes the headphones from around his neck. He holds them up in his right hand as he pushes the ‘play’-button and turns the small ‘plus’-volume button on the side of the device, increasing the volume, leaking an old rock song. 

“Sounds great.” 

Juri gesticulates with his hands. It makes him feel both dumb and sad over the fact that he actually can’t understand the kid. Not that it stops Juri from trying, but he can’t understand no matter how many times he repeats his gestures.

“Sorry kiddo.”

The kiddo ain’t let down that easily. He opens the walkman, takes out the tape and shows him. Daryl reads ‘Boston - Boston, 1979’, written in black marker at the thin line on the orange paper label at the black plastic tape. 

“Okay, here we go-” Rick appears at the edge of the platform, but pauses and bursts into a wide grin at the sight of Juri. “Hey, little guy.”

Juri waves at Rick as he climbs up and sits down at his left side. 

“Here-” Rick hands Daryl the bottled water and then looks at Juri. “You’re up early.”

The blonde boy nods proudly, as to say ‘yup, before my mom’. Daryl unscrews the cap from the plastic bottle and offers it to Juri. He takes it and takes two small sips, before handing it back and continuing to look out over the wall. But soon the little nose begins to search in the air. Daryl and Rick can smell it too; breakfast. Toasts and waffles.

“Ya hungry?” Rick asks Juri. Juri turns and peers up at Daryl, as if he had an answer for it. He then turns back to Rick, and shakes his head. “We’ll be replaced soon. Then we’ll eat.” Rick says, very dad-like. Authoritarian but still nice. 

Juri nods and returns to his walkman, puts the headphones over his blonde hair and disappears into his own world of Boston, 1979. Daryl looks down at the toddler sitting between him and Rick, nodding his head to the beat of the music, so carefree and at ease. He looks so much like Mila, except the blonde hair. But his constant cool is something else, a hybrid between Mila and whoever the man who biologically is his father. Mila’s a hothead by blood, with impressive self-control. Like the calmest water which in an instant can blow up into a raging storm. Juri, on the other hand, is calmness personified whatever the situation. Maybe because he relies on Mila entirely. He never has to be scared or worried.  

“Now, that’s a sight for sore eyes.” 

Daryl’s interrupted in his thoughts. He turns and looks over his left shoulder. Carol is standing on the ground, shielding her eyes from the sun, smiling up at the three of them. Juri waves happily down at her with a proud smile on his lips. He’s with the big boys now.  

“Hi, darling.” Carol waves at him before turning her eyes to Daryl. “Ya’ boys hungry?” Juri sniffs in the air and nods. “There’s honey and waffles for you, darling.” Carol smiles at the blonde boy. “What about you two?” 

“Sounds great.” Rick says. “We’ll be replaced soon.”

“Great.” Carol replies. “You’ve been up there all night.” She continues. “We’re planning a barbeque tonight. Why don’t you get some venison later?” 

I’ll be damn Carol, Daryl thinks to himself with a faint, but thankful smile. More things to do today, except collecting materials for the wall. 

“Sure.” He calls back at her. 

“I’ll thank you later, when you’re back with some meat.” She replies in a cheeky smile. “I’ll bring you three something to eat before you leave if you’d like?”

“Set up three more plates.” Rick says. “We’re done here soon.”

Carol nods smilingly, turns and starts walking back towards the houses. Daryl and Rick look at each other. Huh, a barbecue.  

“Could be fun.” Rick says. “Gotta chop some wood then. You wanna help?” He looks at Juri, who nods eagerly with the headphones around his neck again, excited to help out with grown-up stuff. “Great. We’ll start right away, after we’d had something to eat.”

Juri nods and looks at the two men on each side of him, rubbing his tummy, showing them that now he’s hungry. Especially when there’s waffles. He then gets up on his knees and, without warning, climbs into Daryl’s lap. The small hands start to fiddle with his vest, then with the cord of the headphones. Daryl doesn’t tense, but he becomes instantly aware of his body, as if a baby deer had climbed into his lap; he can’t scare him away. But Juri’s calm and relaxed. In the corner of his eye, Daryl sees Rick smile. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’.” Rick says and blinks. “Just, everything’s kinda fine, right?”

Daryl turns his gaze from Rick and looks down at Juri, who meets his gaze and smiles sunny, then out over the area on the other side of the safe-zone, contemplating his friend’s words. Yeah, he thinks. Things are actually kinda perfect. Fuckin’ hell, he feels great. Everything’s calm. No breaches and no herd of walkers approaching. There’s a three and a half-year old in his lap that looks at him like- yeah Daryl can’t figure that one out. But he seems happy. And there’s Mila, probably half awake by now, back at the house. Holy shit, he’s got his shit together at last. 

“Guess ya’ right.” Daryl replies.

“Yep.” Rick says, also turning his head out over the surroundings. “I’m happy for ya’.” He sighs. “It’ll be fun. Barbecue. Bonfire. The only thing’s missing is a harmonica, or a guitar.” Rick turns his head to look at him. “Ya’ play?”

“What? Guitar?” Daryl shakes his head. “Nah.”

But a faint smile spreads upon Daryl’s lips as an idea forms inside his head, accompanied by the muffled sound from Juri’s headphones, which leaks a guitar solo. Nah, he ain’t playing. But he knows someone who might. Inside his head, he adds another task to his mental to do-list.

Taglist: @lonewolf471 @twdeadfanfic

[lumosinlove]

Sweater Weather

part iii

Remus didn’t always have too much time for it, but there was nothing he liked more than sitting on the bench and watching Gryffindor City’s Hogwarts Stadium fill up with red and gold. The waves of chatter got louder and the seats filled, and it was a nice balance to the energy in the locker room as he walked back down the tunnel and through the doors, leaning against the wall with Moody. There, in case they were needed, but out of the way.

Even more than watching the fans, he liked watching the boys get ready. Kasey was down on all fours in a butterfly squat, full-pads making his body look huge and his head look tiny. Leo was down the hall some, throwing two balls against the wall and catching them quickly. Remus’ eyes blurred after watching for a minute and he looked away. Which turned out to be a mistake in itself.

Sirius was sitting in his stall, shirtless and knees spread to accommodate the stick he was taping between them. He didn’t have any of his pads on yet, typical Sirius, who always had to get ready at the last minute because he spent so much time on his stretches and sticks. He was just in his underarmour, the tight material leaving absolutely nothing to imagination. He had a Lions’ hat on backwards and stray strands of hair were sticking out of the front, casting shadows on his cheeks. He stuck his tongue out and wound the tape carefully around the blade of his stick, checking for wrinkles and creases every other turn. James was saying something to him with broad hand gestures, probably a play he wanted to get perfect tonight.

They all wanted to get everything perfect tonight. It was the home opener. The crowd would be wild, and the pressure would be on. Remus loved every second of it and he knew the boys did, too.

James let out a loud whoop then, clapping his hands together and and throwing his helmet on even though his pads were still hanging in his stall. “Let’s fucking go, tonight, eh boys? Durmstrang fuckers won’t know what hit them.”

He was met with a series answering shouts of approval, all of which amplified when Coach Weasley appeared through the locker room doors with the large lion on it. He grinned and held up a little slip of paper, tonight’s line up.

“Pots, since you’re already standing, why don’t you do the honors?” Arthur said, handing James the paper.

James hit his helmet on his head. “Alright, let’s see. Starting tonight,” the boys yelled and James dropped down a little, knees bent and voice low like the commentators, “in the cage,” there was another round of shouts and James wound up his arm and then bounded over to Kasey, “we have the man named for the sport of hockey itself, Kasey Winter.”

There were a series of “Yeah, Kase!” and “Be the fucking blizzard!” before James could continue.

“Next we have…on your left, Harzy!”

Harzy looked up from where he was lacing his skates with a little salute to the cheers.

“On your right,” James smiled around at them all, so wide that Remus could see where one of his outer bottom teeth was still missing, just out of sight. He pressed a hand to his own chest, “yours truly.”

“Alright, Potty-mouth!” Kasey shouted the nickname James had earned himself for his relentless chirping on the ice, name-calling and poking fun until the refs eventually had to call him on it.

“Your favorite D-man pairing, Kaner and our resident Finland-man, Olli!”

Timmy Kane and Olli Halla did some strange, complicated handshake.

“And your center tonight…the man, the myth, the one who holds the record for most marriage proposals by teenage girls at the glass,” Remus laughed at that and James ran back over to Sirius, pretending to take his stick just to see him flinch back, and taking his hat instead and placing it on top of his own helmet, “oh captain, my captain, Sirius mother-fucking Black!”

Everyone clapped a little, Arthur shaking his head fondly and Moody letting James run over and touch his leg for good luck, per tradition, and then it was really business time. There was some calmer chatter as everyone got into their gear and laced up, getting into the right headspace for a game.

Remus rifled through his own inventory in his head, making sure he would be prepared on the bench. He had extra blades for everyone, laces, sterile gauze, and a little box for teeth which he’d learned to keep the hard way (Olli Halla spitting a few directly into his open palm). He took one last look around the locker room before heading back to the mouth of the tunnel at the bench where the guys would pass on their way out for their lap-around introductions under the lights and warm ups. He could see some of the Durmstrang equipment guys over on their bench, and they exchanged nods that were friendly enough. Eagles games were always odd, not just for the competition—they had nothing compared to Lion and Snake games—but because their colors were nearly identical, and so the away-team always had to wear their more solid colored third-jerseys. Remus was glad they were on home-ice, so the Eagles would be the ones stuck in their nearly all goldish-yellow uniform, not the Lions.

Remus looked up at the stands, figuring his parents were out there somewhere, trying to keep Julian at bay, who was no doubt in his BLACK jersey and bouncing out of his shoes with excitement. At nine years old, Remus sometimes wondered if his little brother was a bigger Lions fan than even him, despite living halfway across the country from them.

He had a sudden fantasy of bringing Jules back to the locker room and Sirius being there, maybe James, too, and Sirius would give Jules a hockey stick maybe, and then smile at Remus—

“What’s with the face?”

Remus started, looking at Moody who had brought out the fresh bottles of gatorade and water.

“What? What face? Nothing.” Remus reached forward and started to help him line the bench with them. “I wasn’t making a face.”

“Alright, at ease.” Moody laughed a little. “Jeez, Lupin.”

Remus desperately tried to change the subject, “How’s the lucky leg?”

Moody scoffed, giving it a stomp. “It’s been kissed by Harzy, that’s what. Fucking crazy-ass.”

Remus laughed and sat down on the bench, looking up towards the jumbo-screen where they were showing a video of a few of the guys saying what they did that summer. James was on, giving a typically sarcastic answer. Something about hamburgers. When Sirius’ faces came on next there was a positive roar from the crowd and Remus felt flushed with their enthusiasm. Gryffindor loved their Captain, and they were just as eager to avenge him as the team was. It was pretty fucking thrilling to sit and watch it all, but if he could, Remus would be out there on the ice, fighting to get Sirius ever goal and point he could. He pushed that thought down just as the lights shut off and the music stopped, signaling the beginning of the Lions’ entry onto the ice, their first of the season. Remus’ heart pounded.

“Gryffindor!” boomed Frank Longbottom’s voice, one of their beloved announcer. Frank came with the team on the road, along with Marlene McKinnon. Butts and Kinzy were well loved by the team, and, maybe unfortunately for them, the subjects of many pranks, but Remus was sure they loved the boys’ attention as much as he himself did. The crowed boomed back in response and then the jumbo-screen bloomed to life, along with the lights and the lasers that streaked across the crowd and ice.

“Are you ready?” Frank asked the stadium, and then the jumbo-screen started counting down from ten with loud booms that quickly developed into a bass-heavy song.

“Ten…nine…” Remus found himself smiling, mumbling the numbers under his breath.

“Your Gryffindor Lions!” Frank drew out the words and the lights went crazy as the boys appeared down the tunnel.

Kasey came first, goalie mask propped on top of his head as he skated out onto the ice. Then Timmy, Finn, Leo…Olli, Brady, Evgeni, Kris, Tyler…

They all looped around the rink, warming up and pounding on the glass, laughing when the crowd pounded back. Remus liked watching the rookies the most, their eyes alight with the attention and praise.

And finally James, always second to last, and then Sirius, always last. Remus watched him come all the way down the tunnel, just in time for his name to be read out by Frank. Sirius raised his glove and knocked it into a few of the kid’s fists who had made it down by the glass, before scampering back up to their parents, delighted with having received a fist-bump.

Remus didn’t expect Sirius to look back at him, but for the split second between him being beside the bench and him being on the ice, their eyes met. And Sirius dropped a wink. And he was gliding away, dropping to one knee as he went and raising his stick a little, drawing screams from the crowd. They were happy to have him back. Sirius was cocky, and Remus didn’t like to admit that he loved that, but he did.

Sirius belonged on the ice, that much had always been clear, and when he wasn’t there, something was out of gear. Everything felt settled now, ready.

The lights came up after a bit and then Eagles filtered on, too, taking shots at their goalie. Victor Krum crossed center ice and met Sirius where he was talking to James, offering a somewhat stiff hand. Sirius smiled, so Remus guessed he had welcomed him back. The Eagles were good like the Snakes, but they weren’t assholes like they were. Remus watched Sirius pluck at Krum’s shoulder, no doubt chirping him for the bright yellow color, and Krum laughed, nudging him back and skating away.

Kasey was busy nesting his goal, scraping up the crease with his long goalie skate blades and catching the boys’ practice shots. Remus watched him for a minute, always enjoying how specific and protective Kasey was of his goal (he patted his posts whenever a puck got knocked askew by one, for god’s sake), but soon his attention was—predictably—dragged away by Sirius. Sirius had a routine, a strict routine, and there was few things Remus loved more than watching him go through it. Remus wasn’t sure he even knew about all of it, but he wanted to. He knew Sirius had to tape his own sticks, do specific stretches in a specific order, had to put his left skate on first, and during warm-ups he had to trace the Lions logo with a puck. He knew Sirius liked to have two pieces of toast with butter and honey an hour before games. Remus wished he knew more, secretly. He wanted to know how long Sirius’ pre-game nap was and what he looked like when he woke up from it—

“Earth to Remus Lupin.”

Remus’ slowly spiraling fantasy was abruptly cut off by James waving a glove in his face.

“What?” Remus stood up. “Sorry, what’s up, what do you need? James, face-off’s in like two seconds, you’re on first shift.”

“I just want some gatorade and it’s all red.” James practically pouted.

Remus huffed out a laugh and handed him a blue, shifting to the side as the other team members shuffled down the bench, coach Weasley slapping a few of them on the back. “There, now go!”

James whooped and skated off to take his position. Sirius was at center ice, eye to eye with Krum, the ref between them with the puck. They crouched, eyes on the puck, and Remus said a soft prayer to whatever god anyone could believe in.

The ref dropped the puck, and the game began.

Remus was on his feet the entire time. He was meant to be watching for any trip-ups, any hard hits, anything that might need to be looked at. Instead, he kept catching himself just enjoying the game, standing behind the bench. Sirius came careening over the boards, tapping Brady’s butt as he jumped onto the ice to replace him, and sat down heavily in front of Remus. He turned, sweat dripping down his temples.

“iPad,” he said, and one of the assistant coaches held it out to him. Sirius stayed turned, brow intense as he watched a replay of his latest shift, and so Remus got to study his profile. He loved Sirius in the heat of a game, loved how fast he talked. He leaned over to explain something to Olli, who leaned in like if he didn’t catch every word, he’d parish. Everyone on the team tended to listen to Sirius like that, like he was their leader through thick and thin.

“How’m I doing?” Sirius said as he handed the iPad back. Remus assumed he was talking to the coaches until Sirius’ eyes fell on him.

“Me?” Remus asked—stupidly.

Sirius smiled, “You.”

“You look great out there. You know you look great out there.”

James laughed, whacking Remus lightly in the stomach with his glove. “Way to call him on it, Loops.” Then the whole bench leaned back as Brady shoved an Eagles player nearly over the boards and into the bench. The crowd loved it, and James banged his stick on the boards after them. “Way to go, Shady-Brady!”

They were gone shortly after that, Coach calling for short shifts for the end of the first period.

“Keep ‘em coming boys, keep this lead!” he was shouting.

The Lions were up 3-1, and the atmosphere was electric. Remus loved this. It was the closest thing to being on top of the world there was, he thought. Suddenly, Sirius was on a breakaway up the ice off of a clean pass from Harzy. He skirted around number 16, number 3, with hard edges, and then he was nearly at the net—

Krum came out of nowhere, slamming Sirius into the boards.

Remus was on his feet in a second, pressing up behind Tyler and Evgeni on the bench.

It was a clean hit, but it felt like ages before Sirius got up. Remus didn’t even watch Krum take the puck, didn’t watch Kasey miss it, didn’t watch their goal-horn light up, didn’t watch the scoreboard change to read 3-2. He didn’t watch the Eagles celebrate.

He watched Sirius skate towards the bench. It was just for a shift change, but Remus looked over every part of him, checking for a limp, a wince, anything. He looked okay. James was on him in a second, skating shoulder to shoulder and talking to him. Sirius was nodded, even smiling a little, but Remus could tell he was shaken. To have something like that happen in the first game, and when he’d just gotten back…

The stadium filled with booing that felt like it shook the walls.

Sirius took his seat on the bench, but before Remus could get through his teammates and to him, the buzzer signaling the end of the first period was sounding and everyone was filing off the ice and back into the locker room. Good, Remus thought. He’d ask to see Sirius, he’d check him out fully, just to be safe.

Marlene was waiting for Coach at the end of the tunnel.

“Hey Arthur, who can we have for media?” she asked.

“Not Black,” Remus stepped in, “I want to check that hit.”

Coach nodded, “right. You can have Pots, or Kasey, I think.”

Marlene nodded and shot Remus a smile, which he returned tightly as he pushed between them and into the locker room. Sirius looked up at him almost immediately, like he had been waiting.

Remus only had to jerk his head towards the quiet and training rooms, before Sirius was getting up and following him. Remus held the door open to the quiet room. It was technically for concussion testing and protocol, and Remus hadn’t seen Sirius hit his head, but better safe than sorry. Sirius stepped inside and Remus closed the door.

“How do you feel?” Remus asked, then pointed to the padded observation table. “Sit there. I’m going to check your ankle and your head.”

“Loops—”

“Does anything else hurt?”

“Remus.”

Remus looked up.

Sirius loomed over him anyway, but he practically towered over him while wearing skates. Remus nearly had to crane his neck.

“What?” Remus asked, a little breathlessly.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t a bad hit.”

“I know. But given your recent history I want to make sure everything’s fine.”

Sirius sat down on the bench and took his helmet off, laying it to the side along with his gloves while Remus bent to start unlacing his skates. Remus’ heart was still pounding, and Sirius’ gray desperate eyes filled his head. He wouldn’t be helpless this time. He’d fixed Sirius’ broken bone, and he wouldn’t let anything go amiss, not now.

“Durmstrang’s always a tough one to call, eh? Sometimes they’re brilliant and sometimes they’re…”

“Angry?” Remus supplied, carefully sliding Sirius’ skates off of his feet before rising.

Sirius laughed a little, “Yeah. For sure, yeah.”

“Look here.” Remus held up a small flashlight and a finger. Sirius looked, but right at Remus, not his finger. A small smile was still lingering on his face. “My finger, Black.”

Sirius laughed again but obeyed this time.

“When’s your birthday?”

“November third.” Sirius supplied easily.

“When is Pots’ birthday?”

“March twenty-seventh. When’s your birthday, Re?”

Remus chest fluttered a little. He clicked off the flashlight, satisfied. “March tenth.”

“Hey, you and James are birthday-buddies.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Raise your arms. Touch your—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Sirius obediently brought his fingers to his nose and back out again a few times, then, without prompt, got up and walked in a straight line, toe to heel, and turned and looked at Remus expectantly.

Remus narrowed his eyes at him. “And your ankle? Tell me the truth.”

“Fine.” Sirius smiled and sat down in one of the chairs in the room to start getting his skates back on. “Really, Loops, I’m alright. It probably looked worse than it was.”

“It took you a bit to get up.”

Sirius shrugged down at his laces, digging his heel in to pull them tight, “I’ll admit, I was a little surprised. It’s the first real time I got hit since…you know. Since Snape. But you said it yourself,” He looked up at Remus then, sweat damp hair falling into his eyes a little, cheeks flushed, “can’t let the fear get to me, can I?”

Remus swallowed dryly. “Right. Yeah.” He watched Sirius until he was standing again and pulling his gloves back on, tucking his helmet beneath his arm. “Right, right. Sorry.” He opened the door, “Have a good second period, okay?”

Sirius paused beside him in the doorway, tall as ever with his skates back on and looking down at Remus. “Hey.”

Remus looked up at him. Sirius had a funny expression on his face, something soft and determined.

“Don’t ever say sorry for helping me,” Sirius’ voice was low when he said the words.

Remus caught one last glimpse of the odd expression, and then Sirius was gone, enveloped back into the energetic mass of the team.

They won 5-3, Sirius with three points, two goals and one assist, in the second and third period.

The locker room was ecstatic afterwards, and Remus was kneeling to tape up Kasey’s thigh for him when Arthur came out with the lion head. The lion head was this seasons team token, of sorts, an object that got past around the locker room after every game, depending on who played best that night. For the first game of the season, Coach was the one who handed it out. After that it would go from player to player. This year, the object looked like an overly-furry lion-mane and nose, maybe from some poor, cotton stuffed animal, sewed onto a baseball cap. Remus grimaced just looking at it. He didn’t want to think about how sweaty and disgusting that thing was going to become by the end of the season.

“Great game, boys. Great start to the beginning of the season.” There were some cheering and Arthur smiled, waving his hand, “As you know, it is my pride and joy making our season tokens.”

“What section of the wall is last year’s going on?” James said, making everyone laugh. Arthur’s creation last year had been a monstrous blend between a gladiator helmet that had a yarn lion tale glued to the back of it.

“Front and center, thanks for asking.” Coach said. “This year, we have…”

Kasey started a drumroll which the entire locker room eventually joined in on.

“Lion-cap. Gorgeous, isn’t he?” Arthur held it up. “And tonight…I’ve got to give it to the captain, don’t I?”

“Yeah you do!” James pounded the wall of his stall with his fist.

“Quite a hit, and beauties of goals. Sirius.”

Sirius laughed as he walked forward, just his underarmour on again, and put the hat on, crouching into a ridiculous pose so that James could take a picture. He looked hilarious in it, the mane fluffing out around his ears and the nose resting on the brim.

“Thanks, Coach.” He said, and then handed it off to Remus for safe keeping, per tradition. Remus was always put in charge of bring the token on roadies, and keeping track of who got it when.

Remus felt his phone buzz in his pocket and was pulled abruptly from the bubble of the team when he saw his mom’s name flash up. He slapped a hand to Kasey’s shoulder, telling him he was done, and slipped out of the locker room to answer.

“Hey, mum.”

“Hi, baby. Great game!”

“It was,” Remus smiled. “I’ll be right out to get you guys and we can get ice cream or something. I just have to—”

“Remus?”

Remus pressed the phone to his shoulder, turning on his heel back to the locker room. Sirius was standing there, head poking out and smiling a smile that looked almost—shy.

“Yeah? Hold on, mum—Sorry, can I help?”

“Bring them back,” Sirius said.

“Huh?”

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Your family. Bring them back, show them the locker room and stuff.”

“Oh.” Remus’ heart beat. He would love that. Julian would freak out. “Oh, I don’t want—”

“C’mon, the boys would love it. We can sign a jersey and stuff, or a stick.”

Remus’ mouth hung open for a minute before he heard himself say, “okay,” and Sirius grinned before retreating. Remus didn’t move until he heard his mom’s voice in his ear. He blinked a few times and raised his phone back up. “Hey, mum, do you want to…would you guys want to come back to the locker room?”

And so here Remus was, his parents and Jules in toe, walking down the all too familiar hallway.

Julian bounced up beside Remus, both hands around his arm. “Are we going to meet Sirius?”

Remus smiled, “probably.”

“Are we going to meet Pots?”

“Yep, him too.”

“Blizzard?”

Remus laughed, “I think you could meet Kasey, sure.”

“Can I take a picture with them?”

“If you say please,” Remus said, because it was definitely what his mom would say. Once they reach the locker room doors, he looked back at his parents. Both were wearing BLACK jerseys, which Remus found unbearably endearing and also slightly embarrassing now that Sirius knew how Remus felt about him as a hockey player. There was no doubt he was going to think Remus had had sway over his parents’ jersey choice. His dad was clutching his phone excitedly to his chest, and Remus couldn’t think why he hadn’t asked to do this sooner. He was glad Sirius had said something, and he’d make sure to tell him thank you later.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Ready, ready, open the doors!” Julian whisper-yelled.

The sound wave once Remus did hit them like a wall, and Remus heard Jules quiet down a little, maybe with nerves as the reality that this was actually happening set in, and Remus turned around to put a comforting hand on his back. He could see that the media was just leaving out the press door, which Remus was thankful for because it meant that none of the players would be surrounded by cameras. He didn’t want this to look like a photo-op.

He made eye contact with Sirius almost immediately, and tried to smile in a way that didn’t look like he expected Sirius to come over or anything. Sirius had a routine, and that included winding down. He looked like he was about to leave for his twenty minute cool down on one of the stationary bikes, and Remus didn’t want to interrupt that. But then Sirius was grinning and motioning them over.

“Oh.” Julian said softly from beside Remus, and Remus patted his head softly and motioned for his parents to follow him over to Sirius’ stall.

Sirius stood when they got there, grinning warmly.

“Who’s this?” Sirius asked, holding his fist out for a dumbstruck Julian to bump.

“These are my parents, Hope and Lyall, and this is Julian, my brother.” Remus said, smiling a little at Jules’ expression. His heart was pounding. “Say hi, Jules.”

“Hi Padfoot. I mean—” Julian flushed.

Sirius laughed. “You can call me Padfoot if I can call you Jules. You play hockey, bud?”

Julian nodded frantically, “yeah, I’m a center, too.”

“Nice.” Sirius raised his eyes briefly to Remus’ parents and held out his hand for them to shake, “Hi, I’m Sirius.” As if they didn’t know, as if they weren’t wearing his last name on their backs, “Did you all enjoy the game?”

“That was such a nasty hit on you.” Julian said, eyes going from Sirius’ face to his locker to his pads to his stick.

“It was, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, we hope you’re alright.” Hope said with a very motherly disapproving frown.

Sirius nodded and, to Remus’ surprise, threw an arm around Remus’ shoulder. “Your son took care of me. Remus takes the best care of us, right James?”

James had come over with a protein bar hanging out of his mouth, but took a bite and chewed quickly when he put together who he was speaking to.

“Jesus f—” He looked at Julian whose eyes were practically hearts. “Hi,” James said again, laughing a little at himself, “you must be Loops’ parents.” James looked down at Julian again, “And older brother, I presume? What’s up, man? Here to try out?”

“Yeah.” Julian said softly, clearly barely able to think, and they all laughed.

Remus, on the other hand, was much to pre-occupied with Sirius’ arm which, having slid away from his shoulders, was now briefly a warm, pressing weight between his shoulder blades, before it disappeared completely as he slapped the seat of his stall.

“Well I’m certainly not going to have a spot on this team if you’re playing, so you might as well take a seat. Let’s see, what will he need to be a Lion, Pots?”

James crossed his arms, pretending to think hard. “Jersey, definitely.”

“Oh, two, I’d say.” Sirius added, “And a couple sticks, don’t you think?”

Julian, now seated snuggly in Sirius’ stall, was red-cheeked with happiness.

“On it.” James said, and winked at Remus as he left to get a few of his and Sirius’ jerseys and sticks to sign.

Sirius on the other hand, crouched down to Julian’s level. “Hey, Jules, do you know how awesome your brother is?”

Julian grinned up at Remus, then back at Sirius. “Yeah.”

Sirius nodded back, “He does practically everything for us. Gets us new skate blades, makes sure we have what we need on the road, keeps us healthy.” Then Sirius looked at him with a similarly fond and happy expression that Julian was wearing, and Remus felt a little like he might cry which would be completely and utterly embarrassing. “He’s pretty great.”

Remus felt his own cheeks flush. “Okay, okay, thanks.”

Hope laughed from beside him, squeezing him in a one armed hug. “Never could take a compliment, could you, Re?”

“That was a lot of compliments.” Remus laughed, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t stop looking at Sirius and Sirius wasn’t looking away.

Remus felt like he was back in Sirius’ car, unsure what it all meant.

“Hey, did you know I’m your brother’s favorite player?” Sirius asked Jules.

“You’re mine, too! We both have your jersey!”

Remus flushed and had to look away from Sirius and his raised eyebrows then, pretending to watch James come back across the locker room with the gear. He didn’t want to hear what Sirius had to say about that.

James and Sirius were both at Julian’s level for a good fifteen minutes, signing things, taking pictures, and talking hockey. Kasey even came over before leaving to sign the jerseys and offer one of his own sticks. Remus didn’t know how Julian was going to carry it all.

His parents eventually left for their hotel with promises to meet him for breakfast the next morning and their favorite pancake spot—really everyone’s favorite pancake spot—in Gryffindor. Remus watched them walk back to their car until they turned out of view, smiling to himself at Jules’ insistence that he carry all three sticks and wear both jerseys at once.

Remus stopped by the exercise room on his way back to lock up the office for the night and, as expected, Sirius was there. He looked fresh off the bike and was on one of the mats, stressing his fingers towards his toes. Remus knocked lightly.

“Hey,” Sirius said with a grin.

“Hi.” Remus walked in a few more paces and leaned against one of the treadmills, scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the floor softly. “I don’t want to interrupt you or anything, but I just wanted to thank you. For earlier. You—You really made my little brother’s life, there. He loves you guys.”

Sirius stood, dusting off his leggings and picked up his water bottle from the floor. “I hope he’s not the only one.”

Remus bit back a smile, and his heart clenched. If only Sirius knew what he was saying.

“Of course,” was all Remus could think of to reply.

“You’re family seems great, Re. Really.”

“They are,” Remus replied before he thought about what that statement probably meant, coming from Sirius. Sirius who didn’t have a family like that. Remus felt guilt and the want to strangle anyone who didn’t love Sirius properly swirl in his chest. Sirius deserved so much. Look what he would do for just one kid who he never even met, for Remus, who he barely knew outside of his work.

“I’m headed out soon.” Sirius said. “Do you need a ride?”

Remus shook his head, “Moody said he’d drive me.”

Even though everything in him was screaming at him to lie and say yes, he didn’t want to explain that to Moody.

“Ah.” Sirius said, nodding. He looked, if not disappointed, something like it. “Okay. Well, let me know, eh? Any time.”

“Thanks, Sirius.” Remus was aware of how soft his voice sounded, but there wasn’t much he could do about it with Sirius’ gray eyes on him.

Sirius smiled, a soft and lopsided thing, and Remus’ heart flipped in his chest. As Sirius left for the showers, Remus got back to his desk. On it, was a hat.

It was a Lions hat, red with gold piping and the gold lion. On the bill, in the gold sharpie that the team used for signing, was a messily scrawled message and a signature. Sirius’ signature, complete with the number twelve.

I’m glad I’m your favorite, it read.

(A/N: Ah, slowly but surely....:)

[mychemicalficrecs]

could i get a rec list of long (30k+) frank-centric any pairing fics? (preferably not in first person, and if there's smut with bottom frank)…weirdly specific but at least i know what i like?

Being specific is totally fine! Depending on what it is you’re looking for, it can even be super helpful :) I originally thought this would be difficult, but it turns out I already had all of these in my bookmarks. It didn’t specifically check for bottom!Frank though (sorry).

Frank-centric Longfic

Gerard Way's (Vampire) Detective Agency by jjtaylor, Pennyplainknits, mainly Frank/Gerard, 164k, Mature. Pete, in Decaydance Mansion, with a yarrow stake. Frank and Gerard, in the greenhouse, with a plant of questionable origin. Bob, everywhere you look, with a gang of assassins for justice. Vampires, valets, pamphlets, haunted furniture, dub-thrall, disembodied voices, zombie couriers, and sinister rituals.

Nightswimming by waxjism, Frank/Gerard, 141k, Not Rated. My Teenage Romance

Unholyverse by Bexless, Frank/Gerard, Ray/Mikey, 187k, Mature, Explicit. Religion! Horror! Exorcisms! Piercings! And Gerard is a priest.

Illyria (King and Country) by tabulaxrasa, Frank/Gerard, 57k, Explicit. Today, they'd woken up and Gerard was King of Illyria. Frank hasn't really been a stable boy since he ended up in the archduke's bed, but now Gerard's exile is over and he's king. Frank has to survive court, politics, and scheming nobles to figure out exactly what he is now.

Stunning Someone by morbid_beauty, Frank/Gerard, 82k, Explicit. Frankie, a tattoo artist living in Brooklyn, has basically everything ze wants...except, like, someone to cuddle with at night. As lame as that sounds. Gerard, an art student living in Manhattan, meets someone of questionable gender and starts a friendship with an unrequited crush. (Or: the one where Frankie is genderfluid, Gerard is kind of ignorant to much of the queer community, and sometimes you just fall for a stunning someone.)

Envision the Magic by innocent_wolves, Frank/Gerard, 69k, Teen And Up Audiences. Gerard is a talented magician, responsible for much of the success of the famous Envision Destiny cruise ship. He's also one of those people. You know, one of those people who just seem to take up all the space they come across with their arrogance and confidence. You wouldn't wanna touch their personality with a 10-foot pole, but still people admire them. That is beyond Frank. Working behind the cruise ship bars and seeing Gerard pretty much every day, he can't understand what's so great about him. Besides, everybody else doesn't have to deal with his snide remarks and rude comments. Because if there's one thing Gerard seems to love, it's the act of constantly pestering Frank.

Truths That He Learned by gala_apples, Frank/Mikey, Patrick/Mikey/Pete, Ashlee/Patrick/Pete, 37k, Explicit. It's Frank's senior year, and it seems like he's constantly having new experiences, at least half of which come as a complete surprise to him. He falls in love, comes out, and has sex, not necessarily in that order.

Fit to be tied by maryangel, Frank/Gerard, 56k, Explicit. Frank is a bartender. Gerard is an alcoholic. They were clearly made for each other. Also, Frank is a werewolf.

Only Going One Way by ataratah, jjtaylor, Frank/Gerard, 73k, Mature. Crossover with due South. Constable Gerard Way of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and Detective Frank Iero of the Chicago PD team up find Mikey Way in a city where bowling alley score cards hide secret codes, where the good guys are either lying or undercover (and sometimes lying about being undercover), and where criminal bakers make drug-laced frosting.

James Cameron Got It Wrong by ladyfoxxx, Frank/Fun Ghoul/Party Poison, 57k, Explicit. In which 2005!Frank and Fun Ghoul get it on. Then Frank accidentally winds up in 2019.

Rock and Roll Never Looked so Beautiful by corruptedkid, Frank/Gerard, 58k, Explicit. Gerard Way is a rising solo artist, set to become the next big thing in the alternative scene. Frank Iero is a trashy punk with a reputation of his own as the frontman of Pencey Prep. When their paths cross, a love story is born, only to come crashing down when Gerard hits it big. As Gerard ascends to the A-list, Frank adjusts to life on his own. He almost manages it - until two years later, when fate puts him face to face with Gerard once more. Everything has changed, but the connection between them is still there. Their story has ended once before, but if they're lucky, they just might make a new one.

I never told you what I do for a living. by not0-fuckin-kay, Frank/Gerard, 60k+, PG-13 to NC-17. Frank Iero, male nurse at Pete Wentz's private hospital and possibly more to one new patient he can't keep his eyes off of. When a new pateint is brought in with amnesia, just days before Christmas, and with nothing but the clothes on his back and a strange drawing, it's left to Frank to find out who he is and what happened to him. When he does, it changes Frank's life forever, as he's thrust into love and health scares he never thought would complicate his life. This is the story of how he tries to make it through, juggling his job and his love-life and just trying to make things better. With Patrick the doctor, Bob the ward supervisor, Travis the unlikely therapist, and Mikey, the sometimes wannabe homicidal geek.

and me here on the ground by ohnoktcsk, Frank/Gerard, 32k, Explicit. Frank's worked hard to build a life for himself in the city of Jersey, where dragons swoop and dive over the river, and every day is divided by the ringing of the city bells. He knows the streets of the city like he knows the the tattoos on the backs of his hands, and he's content with what he has: a job as a bike courier, friends who love to give him shit, and a crush on a professor of art history at the local university. But he's also got a secret—one he's been running from for a long time. But all it takes is one delivery to a mysterious, quite-probably-magical bookshop to show Frank that there are some things you can’t outrun. Especially since he’s finally found a place that he doesn’t want to leave.

Companion by onceuponamoon, Frank/Gerard, 34k, Explicit. A workplace AU. There’s a dude sitting in one of the high-backed chairs opposite the reception desk. Mostly obscured by a fake ficus plant between them, the guy probably wouldn’t have been noticeable save for the lazy sprawl of his legs, the Chucks contrasting against the floral rug.

Your Heart The Only Place That I Call Home by dear_monday, Frank/Gerard, 30k, Explicit. When Frank and his crew of morally ambiguous ethernauts (pirates, as Imperial law would have it, but that's such an ugly word) fetch up on the doorstep of the fabled Sanctuary, they aren't expecting to find much - least of all a long-lost brother, a garden in a box and the key to an ancient riddle.

Give Me a Reason by mistresscurvy, Lindsey/Frank/Jamia/Gerard and most variants thereof, 38k, Explicit. July 2007. Frank is fucking stoked for the next tour. This one will be the best ever, because his wife's gonna be with him the entire time. They've been married for less than six months, and he still can't fucking believe he got to marry her. This summer is going to rock. But life never happens as he plans.

In Repair by autoschediastic, Frank/Gerard, 33k, Explicit. "Shit," Frank mutters, and shoves both hands through his hair. He looks around the kitchen like he's gonna find what he should do scratched into the old linoleum, then looks back at the bot. He gnaws on his lip. Fuck it. He already knows what he's gonna do. He's just gotta do it. Getting down on his knees, he braces a hand on the edge of the crate and leans over the bot. It's dressed in a plain white tee and matching drawstring pants like an escaped mental patient. Frank rolls his neck and cracks his knuckles, shaking the ache out of them before carefully laying his palm against its cheek. He's pretty sure his voice is steady when he says, "Activate." Nothing happens. Fucking shitty packaging-- the thing's busted. But Frank keeps his hand where it is, jumping a little when he feels the surge of energy beneath it. The robot's skin goes from room temperature to lukewarm, then warm. Frank watches it open its eyes, the light behind them adjusting until they're a pale sort of brown. It looks at him and asks, "Am I dead?"

Promises, Promises by silentdescant, Frank/Gerard, 31k, Explicit. "Sources on our investigative team say this was a bank robbery gone wrong, and that, when faced with a police task force surrounding the building, the suspect grabbed the nearest person and is now holding that young man at gunpoint as he makes his getaway."

Cover To Cover by silentdescant, Frank/Gerard, 32k, Explicit. You've Got Mail AU. Frank owns The Shop Around The Corner, which specializes in classic and rare books, and Gerard is opening up a large branch of Way Books & Café down the street. They meet online and fall in love.

Love: The Package Deal by jjtaylor, Frank/Gerard, Lindsey/Frank/Jamia/Gerard, 30k, Mature. Gerard gets a special kind of amnesia. Frank gets to reexamine his idea of acceptable relationship structures. Lots of people fail to communicate effectively, but they all sure remember how to kiss.

Let The Darkness Lead You Home by rivers_bend, Frank/Gerard, 49k, Explicit. Vampires are in charge and most of the humans on earth are prey, so Frank Iero's parents have him train as a cyber tech to protect him. Leaving the family he's born into may have saved his life, but his parents never could have expected the lengths he'd go to in order to find a new family to call home.

Gross roomies by turps, Frank/Mikey, 36k, Explicit. Frank loves living with Mikey. Sure, the apartment is a mess, the kitchen's a toxic wasteland, and there's something growing in the refrigerator that's just a day or two away from becoming sentient, but other than those minor inconveniences, it's all cool. Or it is until Mikey decides to embark on a journey of sexual discovery and adventure and Frank's left at home with nothing but the fridge monster for company. To make matters worse, Mikey insists on telling Frank everything he does with his new kinky friends, right down to the tiniest detail. And now suddenly Frank is best friends with his right hand and he can't stop thinking about Mikey in ways he never has before. The really big problem, other than suddenly being in lust with his best friend, is that Frank isn't sure why.

Of All The Hidden Corners by moneyes, Frank/Gerard, ~44k, PG-13. An epic, adventurous tale filled with alternate universes, lords, mischief, magical powers, snark, boyfriends, and luck of the bad kind.

Church of Hot Addiction by spleenjournal, 0nlymemories, Frank/Gerard, Frank/Mikey, 36k, Adult. When Gerard Way gets transferred to Our Lady of Peace in Arlington a few weeks into his Senior year, he thinks it's his chance to be cool. Too bad his idea of "cool" is no cooler than it was in 3rd grade, even if there aren't any green tights.

Paradox 'verse by stoplightglow, Frank/Gerard, 42k, Mature. You know the saying. The best part about hitting rock bottom is that you get to meet a hot psychic.

[kyliwrites]

the exit's the other way

ship: davekat (no quadrant/all quadrants; established relationship)

prompt: "you know what!? fuck you. i'm out of here."

"*name.*"

"WHAT?!"

"the exit's the other way."

setting: earth c (canon universe/post-canon, no epilogues)

Your name is Dave Strider, and you are just the absolute god damned best at riling loud, insufferable aliens up to the brink of delirious rage. Because the way their gray cheeks flush and their eyes darken is so perfectly entertaining, you take it upon yourself to annoy them into paradox space and back.

Karkat, for example. All it takes is the bare minimum of poking and prodding at his favorite romcom actor and SHABAM. Little guy's all fuming and everything; you can see the puffs of smoke coming out his ears and the attractive way his fangs slide out over his lips. He's glaring in that wide-eyed furious way of his, anger hot enough to brand you right on the asscheek like a motherfucking cow. Moo, bitch.

You hardly insulted him, but Karkat's like that: hypersensitive, petty, an asshole, totally adorable when he's mad. He's got his flaws (who doesn't?), but with you, he doesn't try so hard to cover them up. You love him all the more for that.

Presently, he's ranting about the flaws and inaccuracies of some human film you alchemized into existence for him, and he's been doing so for approximately four minutes and twenty-seven seconds. You haven't been paying much attention, if you're being honest, because you've been too busy mentally recounting everything else about those four minutes and twenty-seven seconds. Why? Narrative reasons, yo.

You tune in at the last second and catch his metaphorical hands instead of the hilariously unironic picking apart of whichever movie you picked for him (you can't even remember at this point; you've spent all three years since the game ended finding progressively shittier films, if only so you can experience the pleasure that is Karkat's ranting).

"-and are you even FUCKING listening, douchenozzle!?" Comes Karkat's infuriated, raspy interjection. It throws you bodily from your thoughts, and you blink from behind your shades in an effort to clear your head.

"Nah," you answer honestly once you've regained your bearing. "Shit got more boring than watching American football with the boys on a rainy Saturday night. Dude goes in for a tackle and skids across the field tragically. Eight jocks in a row go flying and it's like a god damn bowling alley up in this bitch. The boys start swearing like some motherfuckers, but you, a renowned Football Connoisseur, shake your head solemnly rather than go batshit insane over the slip-n-slide conga line like, you know, a normal person. Football people, bro. No humor. No sense of irony."

"I understood approximately FUCKALL OF THAT, asshole. Speak English or Alternian, thanks a whole fucking lot. What gog damn language was that!?" Karkat looks you up and down with a scrunched up expression, as if deciding where to maim you first. You straighten involuntarily underneath his gaze.

"...S'called Texan, m'dude."

He recoils melodramatically. "Texan!? Is that a joke or some bullshit? Some kind of dead language you somehow learned? Where the fuck is the TEXAN and who came up with a name that hideous and disgusting?"

"No, Karks," you wheeze. "Texas. The people from Texas are Texans."

"Why do I care about your overcomplicated alien linguistics!? Answer my question, Strider," he demands, crossing his arms. His nails, bitten down yet still sharp and threatening, dig into his sweater.

"I'm from Texas, dude. You know how there were, like, different dialects on y'all's murderplanet? English is kind of like that. Texans have huge accents and are famous for being racists, people from Jersey are famous for being the shittiest people, Alabamians marry their relatives, etcetera etcetera."

After a moment of thought, Karkat nods seriously and says, "That explains why you're such a xenophobe."

You choke. Of all the things you'd been expecting him to say, it definitely wasn't that. You reply eloquently:

"W-what!?"

"You heard me. You fucking space racist."

"Oh my jesus shit, rude," you protest vehemently. "I am not space racist." Not anymore, at least.

Karkat flashes a rare fanged grin at you, his eyebrows lifted, and you realize he's only joking. The smile is gone as soon as it came, one of those blink-and-you-miss-it gifts. "Space racist." He nudges you with one elbow. You nudge him back.

"Dude," you say, "don't make this a thing."

He pushes you forcefully, hard enough for you to have to grip the arm of the sofa you're sitting atop to remain seated, in response. Oh, it is on.

You tackle him and he lets out a paralyzed squawk when you roll off the couch and into the floor. He lands on his back with an "oof," and you pin him down by the shoulders. He bares his teeth, but the smile breaking out over his face ruins the effect.

"Get off me, asshat, I'll fucking kneecap you," he barks, still grinning like an idiot.

"You won't." You're grinning like an idiot, too, to be fair, except yours is more fond than shit-eating. Dave Strider, maximum sap. Whod've thunk.

He surges forward suddenly, without warning, and uses his legs to flip you onto your back; it knocks all the air out of you, but you manage a cackle and a "fuck you" anyway. He pins your arms above your head and sits on your chest.

"Say fucking uncle, Strider."

"That's not how that game works!" You wheeze. "You don't even know what an uncle is!" He smirks—the sight makes your heart flutter like the cat getting showered in affection meme. The thought distracts you and you briefly ponder making a Karkat version, but you aren't given the reins to think very long because he flicks your nose.

"Ow! Dickhead, that hurt—"

"Dickhead yourself! Your fucking bony ribs are digging into my ass!" He wrinkles his nose and shifts, trying to find a more comfortable way to sit.

"What ass?" You demand in jest, which is the worst thing someone pinned beneath the person they are making fun of could possibly say. He narrows his eyes and you manage a "shit wait no" before he snatches his hands away.

You've lived together for all of three years, four months, and seventeen days. He knows your weaknesses as well as he knows his own, your fears, your discomforts. He knows what you like, love, and hate. He knows when to push and when not to push. He gets you better than anyone, even your own psychoanalytic twin sister (you'll have to blame that one on the fact that she and her wife don't leave their house unless they're going to the alien procreation cave).

So, that's why he decides to tickle you. Because he knows you throw an absolute shitfit when it comes to being tickled.

You hunch your shoulders when his hands descend upon you and try to roll yourself into a tight, impenetrable ball to escape his fingers, but he's fucking relentless. He knows how sensitive you are; it's the perfect revenge.

In between your wheezing laughs, you can barely manage words, but you cough out a "dude," "bro," and "dudebro," then, finally, "Karkat," before he pauses, rasps, "You did this to yourself," and raises his hands threateningly again.

You blurt, "Uncle! I'll say uncle just don't do it please dude I have never done anything wrong ever you know this right? I—"

He leans forward, silencing you. "Take that bullshit you said first back, Strider, or your plea to your human familial figure is null."

"Fine! Fine, I take it back. Listen, bro. You definitely don't not have an ass. Like, in fact, that ass is so ripe I can't believe anyone would ever accuse you of not having one. That's so fucking disrespectful. How dare those blind motherfuckers? I'm waving my fists at them right now. I will singlehandedly smite all Karkat's assphobes, my man. I'll raise my assphobe smiting trident and pulverize all these thotass sons of bitches right here, right now. I'll do it, I will. I'm no coward. I'll protect that magnificent rear with everything I have, dude. Those glorious buns. The assnihilator—"

"Shut the fuck up oh my gog I can't believe I fucking brought this upon myself." Karkat rolls off of you and clutches said glorious buns. Apparently your ribs really did hurt his ass. Huh.

"You did bring it upon yourself," you agree. And then, because you still aren't done pushing his buttons and want to be an insufferable piece of shit, "So, you didn't say what you thought of the movie."

He opens his mouth, clamps it shut hard enough for his teeth to clank together, repeats the motion a couple of times. "I—Dave—You fucking—No. You know what? Fuck you. I'm out of here."

You burst into the horrid laughter of a hyena when he scrambles to his feet in one furious motion; he's back to grumpy scowling and cussing you out in the amount of time it takes for the underpaid McDonald's employee working the back of the store to flip a shitty one hundred percent not-beef burger patty.

He stomps heavily away—in the direction of the kitchen, you note, which only makes you cackle harder when you realize he didn't do it on purpose.

"Oh my fucking jesus god. Karkat!"

"WHAT!?" He yells without facing you.

"The exit's the other way."

He comes to an abrupt halt, slowly turns around, and begins marching back, in the right direction this time.

You're too busy flailing on the couch (you can't even remember pulling yourself back onto it) to give a shit when he throws himself down beside you. You do, however, give tons of shits when he pulls you into a very exasperated smooch that simply screams "shut the FUCK up you absolute godless heathen of a space monkey."

You are not opposed to "shut the FUCK up you absolute godless heathen of a space monkey" smooches.

He draws back and rolls his eyes. "Are you done yet, bulgemuncher?"

You are, as established many times, an insufferable piece of shit, so you say, "Dunno. Do I get to kiss you again?"

"Not with that attitude you don't."

You kiss him anyway, because god dammit he's your boyfriend and you demand kissing rights. He doesn't protest; instead, he wraps his arms around your neck and relaxes, just a little.

You could stay in his arms forever, you think.

[docholligay]

Endings And Beginnings

Another Patreon release for my 12 Favorite Fics post coming up! Built off this fucking prompt from geeky:  "When someone leaves your life, those exits are not made equal. Some are beautiful and poetic and satisfying. Others are abrupt and unfair. But most are just unremarkable, unintentional, and clumsy.” -Griffin McElroy; The Adventure Zone  1900 words. 

It wasn’t fair. It just really wasn’t fair.

Usagi knew that these things happened to everyone eventually, but it still wasn’t supposed to happen to her. If it did have to happen, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be slow and dramatic, like a heroine with tuberculosis, or quick and tragic, like a heroine who fell off a horse and broke her neck. It wasn’t supposed to be a few days of feeling bad, a brief collapse, a terrible decision, and a goodbye.

She’d read a lot of stories, and that wasn’t how it happened. That’s not how people died.

Rei tried to be helpful, but even after losing Mina (In a quick and tragic way) she was still Rei, and still applied the same amount of force to a bowling ball as she did an egg, however good her intentions, and however tight her hugs.

“You have to come over to dinner with me and Michiru,” Rei had barked, Usagi in her widow’s haze not even thinking to question whether MIchiru had invited her or not, “At our apartment. I know Seiya’s dead,” Usagi had winced, and for as little as Rei could see, she must have sensed it, for her voice softened, “But you need to live, Usagi. Let us...let us help you.”

It still didn’t seem real. How could it be? It couldn’t be. She couldn’t really be gone, because her hamper of clothes was still on the bedroom floor. Usagi had bought her some ginger soda, and it was still in the fridge. It was kind of expensive, and Seiya wouldn’t just let it go to waste. What about ramen thursdays, and who would read her romance novels as they sat in the tub together?

She couldn’t be gone, because she loved Usagi. She wouldn’t leave her like this.

Seiya knew how much she loved stories. She wouldn’t leave her with an ending like this.

Even though she couldn’t be gone, Usagi could still remember her funeral. Even though she couldn’t be gone, her side of the bed was still cold. Even though she couldn’t be gone, Usagi still felt her wedding ring in her pocket.

Even though she couldn’t be gone, Michiru had still sent a car to the house, and Usagi was still riding toward Michiru’s apartment.

Michiru had lived in the elegant high-rise ever since her own love story had its (slow and dramatic) ending. It seemed to fit her, glistening but not gaudy, well-appointed and expensive, but in the quiet way Usagi used to never notice, until she learned what to look for.

Usagi was underdressed. She had a simple jersey dress that fit like a nightgown, Seiya’s hoodie, which she was certainly coming back for, zipped over the top of it. The doorman looked at her askance as she shuffled through the front door, mumbling Rei’s name, and stopped her as she paged the apartment.

He’d seen her before, she and Seiya had been here to have dinner with the two of them a dozen times, to attend parties and little teas. But maybe he didn’t recognize her without Seiya. Maybe no one would ever recognize her again.

Usagi Kou nee Tsukino burst into hysterical tears as the man picked up the phone.

He waved his hands and asked her to stop, but she couldn’t hear him, couldn’t hear anything but the last thing she had said to Seiya, wishing it had been better or more poetic or beautiful, wishing she had given Seiya a pretty end instead of the one she got in some horrible ICU.

Usagi wasn’t sure how long she was crying, but it was long enough for Rei to come down and collect her by hand.

“She’s on the list!” Rei snapped impatiently at the doorman.

“So sorry, ma’--”

“Her wife is dead!” Rei continued, and Usagi cried louder, cried because it was true, and that was the end she got to her love story, and because Rei was being mean to the doorman, and because she was hungry but she never wanted to eat again, and because she hadn’t changed clothes in days, and because the world was a terrible and unfair place.

Rei held her tight, not sparing a moment to consider her own lack of delicacy, and took her into the elevator.

Usagi loved Rei, because Rei didn’t let go of her. Rei held her and hugged her all the way up to Michiru’s floor, and she muttered angrily about the doorman but didn’t tell Usagi to stop crying, not once, and Usagi kept crying because Rei was being so nice to her, and because she loved Rei, and because she was afraid of her how and Rei’s story would end, too.

Rei shuttled her carefully into the apartment, where Michiru had laid the table with a tablecloth and all of the finest, least exquisite noodle dishes Tokyo had to offer. There were fried shrimp, and curry rice, and all of the terrible things that Usagi loved so well.

Michiru smiled kindly, and if Usagi would have had the strength to cry again, she would have.

“I insist you eat something.” She sat down at the table, and indicated to a spot for Usagi, where a bright soda sat waiting. “And if you do not, you will have to hear REi’s insistence, and I believe you will find it much less polite than my own.”

Rei scowled at her, and Usagi almost laughed, somewhere in the back of her soul.

She sat at the table, and was relieved that little was expected of her. Michiru continued in her patter to Rei, and seemed to draw Rei’s loving scrutiny away from her, allowing to simply eat noodles and fried shrimp under a cloud, offering her nibbles of small cakes from an elegant selection on a silver platter.

Her stomach filled, Usagi felt slightly more human. She looked out over the lights of Tokyo and imagined heading back to that dark and lonely house, that too-large and cold bed, and nearly began to cry all over again.

“I should go…” she said, voice wavering, trying to remain strong.

“Usagi…” Rei drew an arm around her, “Remember when we were young and...do you want to have a sleepover with me?”

She offered it with warmth, trying to sell the idea with a smile, as if she were speaking to the Usagi of a month ago, and not worrying over the Usagi of now, who couldn’t even properly feed herself, the least Usagi concern of most of Rei’s life.

“Is Michiru…?” She said softly, knowing that, though she and Michiru were friends, they were hardly close, and Michiru protective of her time.

“Of course,” Michiru said, returning from the kitchen where she had taken the dishes, “But you must do me one favor.”

Rei bristled protectively, and Usagi’s shoulders fell.

“I insist you take a bath. We have a deep tub, and a wide selection of bubbles. I have a nightgown you might have, it is nothing terribly fancy, but it is warm, and soft, and will suffice.”

Usagi nodded, unable to speak, as the lights of Tokyo twinkled, unknowing that the stories of the stars in the sky were lies.

___

Usagi slipped under the flower-scented bubbles, the warm water embracing her as closely as she imagined Seiya would, if she were here. Tears ran down her face again, thinking of how she and Seiya sat at home like this, Seiya reading to her and dramatizing the most romantic parts, Usagi shaving her legs and washing her hair, tangled up in each other, laughing.

The door opened, and she sniffled deeply. She didn’t want Rei to see her like this. Rei worried enough.

“My apologies,” It was Michiru, and Usagi whipped around a moment in surprise, “I neglected to give you a towel.” She laid a thick, plush bath sheet on the side table, still warm from where she must have popped it into the dryer.

“Michiru?” Usagi said, as she turned to leave. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Michiru stopped for a moment. “I like to think I do have the barest sense of empathy, Usagi.” She considered a moment. “As an adult, anyhow. Is it so unusual that I should be kind?”  There was a slight sting to it, as if someone had whipped her with a switch.

“No, but…” Usagi turned back to her bubbles, “You hugged me, Michiru. You got stuff together for Seiya’s--I didn’t think you liked me that much. I know you do like me, but, not like--”

Michiru came over beside the tub, and sat down on the bathroom floor.

“You were so very kind to me, when my Haruka passed.” Her voice was tinged with only a slight note of sorrow, but it was still there, the same as the scar on her arm, no matter how many years had passed. “In a way you were in no way required to be. It is true that I am not terribly warm, and we have been ill-matched. But I could never forget your kindness in a time that was so dark for me.”

“You lost your prince too.” Usagi sniffled again. “But Seiya....It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It’s a love story. They don’t go like this.”

“Oh Usagi,” Michiru sighed, “It is never meant to be any way at all. There are no beautiful deaths in this world, and I am sorry that you must know it. Rei never was allowed to say goodbye. I watched Haruka grow weaker and more ill every single day. We each have been jealous of the other, at turns, but I tell you this truth now: Our lives mean much more than our deaths. You and Seiya had a wonderful love story, and you raised a wonderful daughter, and unfortunately it is very often difficult to finish a story in a satisfying sort of way. It is not the end of your story, simply of hers. For you, it is a new chapter.”

Usagi sat quietly for what felt like the first time since Seiya’s last heartbeat, not wanting to cry, not wanting to speak, just wanting to notice. Michiru’s head was tilted up toward the ceiling, sitting by the edge of the tub, and she had never seemed so real to Usagi, not even when she had been ill, not even when she had cried at Haruka’s funeral.

She was simply a widow, just like Usagi, just trying to make sense of it.

“How did you do it?” Usagi asked, poking at the bubbles in the tub.

“Slowly.” She laughed. “Inelegantly, at times.”

“I can’t do it.”

“I am certain that feels true. But you are stronger than you know, Usagi,” Her voice rang clear and true, “It gets easier, that I promise you. This year will be a difficult one. But we are here.” She chuckled. “Rei is very aggressively here, I assure you. You will write your story, still, and we will give you the pen and paper.”

Usagi threw her dripping arms around Michiru’s neck. “We’ll do it together!”

Michiru took a deep breath. “Your personal tragedy and mine, I am certain.”

Usagi was hurt for a moment, and then Michiru turned to her with a smile.

“Michiru!! You’re teasing!!!”

Usagi laughed for the first time in one month, and if we would ever believe that those we love look down on us, the stars smiled.

[dxlansfxck]

Saints & Sins [G.D] - Part 1

Summary: there's nothing that pisses Y/N off more than her own life. her family is highly religious, wealthy and nothing she'd consider fun. her surrounding is boring, but once the new guy, grayson, decides to sit right next to her, Y/N enters a new world filled with romance & fun. little did she know that this kind of fun had his shadow side to it.

Warnings: DRUG ABUSE!, this story is all about drugs, sex & a toxic relationship, if you don’t like stuff like that, you probably shouldn’t read this.

00 - Prologue

„I don’t get it, y/n! What did we do to you? How could you end up like this?”, her mother broke down in tears while looking down at her dirty, probably disgusting smelling self, “You’re the worst that could have happened to our family! Just because you needed to fall in love with this Grayson guy. The devil has sent him to test you, but you failed. You sinned just to receive a bit of pleasure instead of listening to your god!” She’s talking herself into some kind of rage but she isn’t even listening, ignoring her own mother like she did the past few months.

God here, god there. That’s all her family talks about, this weird guy that seems to live in the sky and watches us living. But how could she think him or Jesus when her mind is full of other things. Like her next shot. “Y/N, I can’t believe it! You’re not even listening to your own mother. I need to call the church so they can send father Louis to us, he needs to clean your mind! He needs to get those demons out of your thoughts.”

Suddenly, she starts praying, which Y/N’s opportunity to get out of here. She slowly walks back into her room, ignoring the cold floor on her naked feet, closes the door and smirks at the beautiful boy that’s already laying in her dirty bed. “Took you long, babe. Did your mother tell you I’m the devil’s son again? That I came straight from hell to ruin your life? Why don’t you listen to her, angel? Why won’t you leave me for your own sake?”, his fingers trail over her lips, making her already weak to the bones. Grayson chuckles, his still very muscular chest rising. His voice is full of sarcasm while his lips form the devilish grin that made her fall for him long time ago. Meanwhile, he takes the old, rusty utensils from the nightstand and slowly pours the white powder on top of the spoon. As soon as she sees his actions, her mind goes crazy and her tiny, destroyed body starts to shake from the sudden pain she feels. But Grayson takes his time preparing his own shot, holds the lighter under the spoon painfully slow.

“For fucks sake, hurry!”, her raspy voice breaks, but she bets he understood what she was saying, he just didn’t want to listen. “Gray, I can’t wait anymore!” Her cold hands were starting to shake so badly, that she was sure she couldn’t even prepare her own shot anymore but she knew Grayson, he wouldn’t do it for her, the were far past this point and he didn’t even wanted her to start this anyway. “If you’ve got enough time to prepare it that slowly, hand it over! I need it now! You know that once I’m on turkey I can’t do it myself. GIVE IT TO ME!”, she tries to rip the improvised belt out of his hand, but he just pushes her away with his foot before ramming the needle in his veins. A few seconds later, his eyes were already closing while a soft smile appears on his lips.

“Fucking son of a bitch”, she mostly mutters to herself before pulling the needle out of his arm and starts preparing her own shot of happiness. She didn’t even bother to clean the needle, if they didn’t get ill from sharing by now, it’ll probably never happen.

Her hands won’t stop shaking while cooking the substance on the dirty spoon and it gets even worse while she was trying to get it into the needle. She nearly dropped everything while searching for a good enough vein, trying not to shoot into the scar tissue, but after a few misplaced shots, she finally gets a good one that beams her somewhere else before falling asleep on Grayson’s chest.

01 - Grayson Bailey Dolan

Her life is boring. Not interesting at all. She’s been in this Christian boarding school ever since she was 6. Now she had to change to a Christian college and to be honest: it really fucking sucks.

She needs to take religion classes every day, visit the college  church every Sunday and her parents seem to be the most boring humans on earth.

“Y/N, c’mon, we’re coming late to Biology!”

Have I already mentioned that her classmates suck as well? She’s never seen someone coming late to class, it’s always been her and always her. By her, I mean Y/N Y/L/N. Ugh, she knows it could’ve been worse, because there’s a guy sitting in front of her called Thaddeus, I mean… You probably know what I mean.

After lunch – strictly vegetarian, of course – and without any motivation left, she attempted the last class of the day. Her uniform was already loose because she had opened the first two buttons of her blouse, the tie hanging loosely around her neck. Which college had uniforms anyway? This was a fucking cult.

“Ms. Y/L/N, could you please put your feet back on the holy ground instead of the table? Or do you want to clean it afterwards?” Y/N huffs in annoyance, placing her feet back in front of her. Instead of mocking the teacher, she gets interrupted by the door swinging open loudly. None of those fuckers would come late to class, but nobody heard of a new student joining them. The guy that walks in seemed a bit older, he was taller and… built. He was a giant, broad shoulders, thick thighs and you could tell through his uniform shirt, that his chest was phenomenal.

“My lovely students, this is Grayson Bailey Dolan. His parents moved here from New Jersey, please don’t be rude to him! I bet he’d be glad to know all of you. Grayson Bailey, why don’t you tell the class more about yourself?”

Grayson Bailey Dolan, as the teacher told them, didn’t seem to be very affected by anything. He studies every single face, which gives Y/N the opportunity to study his. A mop of bleached hair, narrowed eyebrows and brown eyes that had the same annoyed look as hers. His plump lips were pressed into a line, probably hiding a rude commentary to his introduction.

“It’s Grayson. And I don’t see the point in introducing myself, wouldn’t want to make friends anyway.” His deep voice didn’t surprise her at all, while he begins walking towards the only empty chair – which of course led to be the one next to Y/N. She fought for this place for about two years, she would never share it. Not with him, not with anyone. “I want to sit alone”, she spat. “And I don’t care.”

“Alright, the seat next to Ms Y/L/N is empty as you already saw. Now, tell us about your hobbies, your favorite book, don’t be shy!”, their teacher still tries to make him talk, but Grayson just huffs in annoyance. “No hobbies, I don’t read, just look at the pictures, and for that I prefer the dirty ones, you know?”

“Oh, okay, well… Anyways, we’re going to start with our next topic which will be DNS and genetics. I’ll show you a little short film and you have to take some notes so we can discuss it later on. Have fun with our little friend Geni!”

With that, the teacher started some stupid clip of an alien called Geni that wants to teach genetics while being funny. Didn’t work out that well.

“Hey, is she always like that? She seems to be a bit sick in the head.” Grayson’s voice drags Y/N out of her thoughts, and she was surprised that he decided to talk to her. She shrugs her shoulders while muttering a quick “dunno”. She feels his eyes burning through her body while he was obviously checking her out, so she kept starring at him. “Is there something interesting to see? You should focus on Geni, our little friend, not my unbuttoned blouse.” With that, she continued studying his face, his jawline was very strong in contrast to his hallowed cheeks. His eyes seem to be tired because they’ve always been kind of closed while his gaze is starring somewhere else.

Just in the moment he was about to open his mouth, the teacher screams “Well that was fun! Never been so amused while learning important lections! Ha, Geni is a genius. I hoped you wrote down anything important so we can discuss them in the next lesson. Have a night evening and I hope everyone will be there to cheer on our hockey team, they have their first official match today!”

 Soon, the classroom is empty, and everyone is inside their dorms. Y/N changed into something more comfy before sitting down on her desk while painting with her new oil colors.

“Wow, damn! This is sick! Looks like some kind of a trip. Do you draw often? I mean, of course you do, it looks so fucking good!” Y/N got so terrified that she nearly fell out of her chair, then she realized it was Grayson standing right next to her, his eyes on the piece of paper in front of her.

“Ehm, hi Grayson? Nice to see you, I guess, but that’s my room?” “Hi, cool room. I like your style, fits mine”, he points to her pair of joggers while opening and unbuttoning his shirt. Then he sits down on the bed which hasn’t had an owner. Yet.

“Anyways, this college sucks. I mean, it really bloody sucks. Teacher and students. Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you, but you know how it is. Everyone seems to be manipulated by god, it’s really scary. Well, I live here now, but I gotta go. See you later, alligator.”

He was soon gone and Y/N was more than confused. She was a girl, living in a dorm, not knowing there was any chance to have a boy as a roommate. Of course, sometimes boyfriend and girlfriend were able to share a room, but most of the time, it was strictly separated. Shrugging the thought off, Y/N prepared her stuff for a quick shower, still thinking about Grayson Bailey Dolan and the impact he’s going to have on her life.

 The next morning already starts with a surprise, it seems like Grayson Dolan hasn’t been in there the entire night. His suitcase and most of his clothes are still spread across his bed. This boy was such a mystery.

Not even an hour later, Y/N finds herself in the first class of the day, not listening to what the teacher said, drawing in her notebook again. “Do you always draw that stuff? I mean, yesterday, today, literally all the time. Not that it bothers me, I really like it. But I wanna know what’s in your head.” She was kinda pissed about Grayson’s presence that she couldn’t ever answer his question. “Oh c’mon, don’t act like you’re listening to that bullshit this nun is talking about. And since you’re a student here, you should be drawing churches or the holy ghost or I don’t even know. But for sure not that”, he points to the burning people she drew, burning in the purgatory and her cheeks got instant red.

“Where were you last night? When I woke up I found your suitcase on your bed, just like you left it yesterday. Listen, those professors are so fucking strict, I don’t want to lose this place, okay? And one of their simplest punishments is scrubbing the church floor – which I don’t want to do either because there will be 20 Jesus figures watching you. And..” “Y/L/N, Dolan! This lesson is more precious than your conversation, seems like I have to inform both of your parents. Detention, both of you!” Their fat, disusting teacher interrupts them.

After 4 more hours of maths and religion, Y/N practically runs into her room, Grayson Dolan right behind her. “Y/N, why aren’t you talking to me? Are you angry ‘cause of the detention? Listen, I’m kinda sorry, but it’ll be just two hours of sitting there, it could be worse. And why is the ugly rat calling our parents? Y/L/N are you even listening?” She feels Grayson’s large hand on her shoulder, but shrugs it off. “Hm? Yeah, sure I am.” “You’re weird, but oh well. Are you hungry? Should we head out to Subway or McDonalds? We still have a bit of time left before detention starts and I’m starving.”

The girl is looking up to him, confusion written on her face. “Leaving? The only time you’re allowed to leave is between 3 and 7. Lunch is in the canteen, but the food is vegetarian.”

Grayson’s eyes widen in shock. “Vegetarian? Seriously? Dude, this is torture! How are you even alive?” “Dunno, never had meat, never wanted to, it’s dead animals. That’s disgusting. There’s plants for a reason, y’know?” “Sick”, Grayson nods. “Hey, Y/N! Why can’t ants go to church? ‘cause they’re insects. In-sects! Understand?”, he laughs so hard that he needed to sit down on his bed, holding his stomach. Y/N on the other hand opened the bible on her desk. “Haha, funny”, she mumbled and began to write down the daily phrases they needed to hand in the next day.

“Have you ever drunk alcohol? Or smoked? Oh, you hesitated, you’re a literal virgin. In everything! We need to change that, but first: lunch!” He drags her by her tiny hands and almost runs into the dining hall. “What’s that smell?”, he scrunches his nose, looking confused. “I don’t even know, it always smells like cabbage, but there’s never cabbage in the meals. You need to get the vegetable burger, but never the vegetable sausages. Everything with noodles or potatoes is fine, salad is okay but the soups are disgusting, got it? We can go to the city later on and find something better for you.” They both decided on getting the burger and while Y/N bites into it, Grayson takes a bite of the fries, then scrunches his nose again and adds half a bottle of ketchup onto them.

“I can show you around then, but there aren’t any cool stores to buy clothes, I usually order them once I’m home”, Y/N managed to speak while chewing her last bite of burger. “You’re pretty cool, angel. Never thought I could meet someone I’d like in here.”  

[bobasheebaby]

Sins of the Father- Crimson Rain chapter 13

Pairing: Bastien x Liza; Liam x Raven

Written for @badthingshappenbingo

Fandom: Choices (The Royal Romance Book)

Square filled: Blackmail

Word count: 2,205

Warnings: angst, threatening of a minor, blackmail

Summary: Liam learns a little more about his father’s involvement and comes to the conclusion of who he can and can’t trust. 

A/N: @katurrade and @zaffrenotes kept pushing me to do a Mobster AU. Beta’d by my patient husband who is completely hooked.

A/N2: My emotions always jump off the page, Liam’s emotions in the first section are the most real and raw I’ve ever written, they are my actual feelings regarding news about my FIL’s killer, so it might really hurt. I could barely breathe while writing them or rereading them. 

Series warnings: Mobster AU, there will be violence, and death. NSFW content to come. Possibly dark. If you ask to be tagged you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age. 

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist.

Disclaimer: I own my OC’s, the rest I’m simply borrowing from PB for a bit.

Present day; Trenton, New Jersey: 

Liam stared at the door Mara had just disappeared out of, hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides. While he wanted to react he knew he needed to try to keep some semblance of calm. He knew had Raven not been by his side in that moment he may have done something to hurt them both. He was stunned, anger rolling through his entire body. The last twenty years of his life had been a complete lie. People he had trusted had lied to him, betrayed him. His own father was behind his mothers attempted hit. His fist hit the wall with impressive force, the drywall giving way leaving a large gaping hole in its wake. Hot angry tears stung at the back of his eyes. 

Liam wanted to yell, scream, cry, destroy the entire house with his bare hands, yet at the same time he felt completely defeated. He felt betrayed. Those around him misled him, who could he trust that his father had? Who would be able to lie to him and betray him easily without a single thought? Who had known and watched him blame the wrong man? Every action he had made in the name of retribution for his mother had been made based on falsehoods he had been fed. Would he even know the truth if he hadn’t had found his mother and Hope? 

Hope, he had held the only remaining family at arms length, refusing to let her in based on who her father was because of facts he was led to believe. He was unsure if he could ever get past his feelings he had felt for the last twenty years. Sure what he believed was wrong, but with the truth widely exposed, things he hadn’t ever known come to light his emotions were still high and raw.

Liam didn’t know how if he ever could get past the things he learned. Would he ever be able to forgive Bastien, his actions were still at the root of what caused him to lose his mother. Would he ever be able to let Hope in knowing how she came to be? What else had his father lied to him about? Was anything he was told the truth, or had his entire life been a lie? 

All feelings could wait. The most important thing was deciding what to do about Mara. Fuck! Things couldn’t be more complicated. How was he supposed to deal with the woman who made him lose his mother when she was the mother of the woman he loved? 

Raven watched in stunned silence as the man she loved slowly started to spiral coming completely undone. She watched as years of training him to only show feelings such as rage slowly become forgotten. She knew he needed her, but in that moment she wasn’t sure how, or if she actually could help. Knowing that his years of pain and anguish from losing his mother was all because of her own had her worrying that he may no longer want anything to do with her. 

Raven felt like her entire life was crumbling around her. She hated her mother more in than moment more than she’d ever hated anyone before. She couldn’t understand how she could so easily make the decisions that caused Liam so much pain. Why couldn’t she just help Emmaline? Why did she have to alert Constantine of Emmaline’s plans? Her heart ached knowing that the one to blame was her family. She knew she needed to be punished, Emmaline deserved to be avenged somehow. Could she stand by and watch her mother be punished by the only man to ever hold her heart? She felt as is if the fact that her mother was to blame for everything to befall Emmaline only complicated matters tenfold and she wasn’t sure if her relationship could survive. 

Twenty years ago; Trenton, New Jersey Constantine: 

It was clear Constantine had misjudged Bastien’s loyalty to him, something he should have realized given the intimate nature of Bastien’s relationship with Emmaline. Adulterous Bitch! After everything I did for her, everything I gave her! He felt like he had been taken for a fool, again. Never again. He would get it right this time. 

The one thing Bastien taught him was not to underestimate those in his control, free will was a powerful thing even if it was a falsehood. He needed someone he could control to ensure that there would be no further issues going forward. Mara has given him the intel needed of her own volition, yet that was worrisome. It was clear to him that she was worried about her own gain, he needed to ensure that she wouldn’t betray him and warn Emmaline. He had one avenue he could explore, it was questionable, but no less than the hit against his own wife. 

With his plan in place Constantine sat back, hands folded against his chest as he waited for Mara to arrive. A few moments later he heard a tentative tap at the door, a smug smile formed on his lips. This time nothing will be left to chance. “Come in.” He called out. 

Mara stepped into the room visibly shaking, unsure of why the boss wanted to see her. “You wanted to see me Sir?” She asked her voice quaking.

“Yes, please take a seat.” He replied gesturing to the seats across from him.

Mara sat, clasping her hands in her lap. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out what he could want with her. Has Raven done something? 

“So, I wanted to thank you for telling me about my wife’s plans.” He said drawing to his feet. He crossed to the bar cart pouring a few fingers of Scotch. “Drink?” He asked motioning with his hand.

“N-no thank you. What exactly did you want to see me about?” 

“Ah yes, getting right down to business I see. I like that in an associate.” He said bringing his tumblr to his lips drawing a long sip of the smooth Scotch. “As I said I wanted to thank you for alerting me to Emmaline’s plans to leave.” 

“O-of course. Is that all?” She replied drawing to stand.

“No of course not.” He responded once more sitting at his desk. “I understand you’ve been worried about your position here since your husband’s untimely death.”

“Yes sir.”

“And I would be correct to assume that you gave me the information about Emmaline to secure your position here?” He questioned, eyebrow raised, drink at lips. 

“Y-yes Sir.”

“Very well.” He said, pursing his lips as if he were in thought. “Well, I can guarantee your position here for the foreseeable future—that is if you were willing to handle something for me.”

“A-anything.” She replied without hesitation.

“I need to ensure Emmaline won’t leave with Liam. Bastien was supposed to do the job but he refused, so now it’s yours. I need you to kill Emmaline.” 

“W-What? No I can’t do that!” She exclaimed in shock. She couldn’t be the reason Liam felt the same pain her daughter did. 

“Either you take care of Emmaline or you will never see Raven again, simple as that. Do you want to be a widow mourning the loss of her only child and her husband or do you want to ensure that you and Raven are taken care of?”

Mara’s eyes went wide. No, not Raven! “Fine. I’ll do it.” I’m sorry Liam, it’s for Raven, I can’t lose her.

“Very good. Let me know when it’s done.” He replied, his hand mentioned to the door. “You may leave now.” He sat back in his chair, sipping at his Scotch once more as he walked Mara hurriedly exit the room. At least there shall be no surprises this time… 

Present day; Trenton, New Jersey:

Liam sat at his large oak desk, fingers drumming on the top, empty whisky glass in front of him. He was trying to sort through all he learned that day. He still couldn’t believe his father of all people had been behind his mothers hit, all because she wanted to take him away. Raven sat on the nearby couch, mindlessly scrolling through social media feeds; eyes flicking from one post to the next but registering none. She knew Liam was hurting, and she wouldn’t leave him alone, even if she was also struggling to process that her mother had been the one to enforce the hit. They both looked up when they heard a sharp knock at the door. Must be Drake. I’m sure he’s heard by now. “Come in.” Liam called out. 

The door swung open, Madeline glider into the room. “Liam.” She said smiling widely. “I was hoping to have a word, alone.” Her eyes flicked to Raven. “Eh, close enough.” She smoothed down the back of her dress, sitting across from Liam.

“Madeline, I believe it’s proper to wait to be told to be seated.” Raven stated to platinum blonde woman. 

Madeline flicked her wrist towards Raven, ignoring the comment. “So I hear the cat is out of the bag so to speak.” She said, smirk on her rouge painted lips. “Are sure you still want to marry her knowing what her family did to yours?” 

Liam appraised Madeline, allowing her words to sink in. “You knew!” 

Madeline laughed. “Of course I knew! I was meant to be by your side, to guide you! Why wouldn’t I know?” She laughed off the absurd thought. “But of course you had to go and mess up your part.”

“What are you talking about?” Liam growled, his jaw clenching.

“Bastien.” Madeline said, her face read of annoyance that she had to explain something so simple to him like he was a child. “You were meant to loathe him, hate him so much you would be driven to destroy him.” She tapped a perfectly manicured nail against her leg. “With me by your side you would have, but you had to go and break the engagement and ruin everything.” The last words spat from her mouth like something that tasted vile. “I tried to warn you, but you had to follow your heart like some simpleton.” A soft smile formed on her perfectly painted lips. “Now, can you stop playing this charade and you finally admit that you need me by your side?”

Liam felt his rage boil, growing hotter in his veins threatening to consume him. “You actually think I would choose to marry you, after you admit to trying to trick me?” He sat forward, planting his palms on his desk. “Madeline I never planned on marrying you, why do you think I came up with excuses for four years to postpone? You will never be by my side! And from this day forward you are no longer welcome in my home.” Liam all but growled, he was absolutely seething in anger. It was talking all of his willpower to not take matters into his own hands. He knew he needed to remain calm, she was trying to goad him and he could not allow her to win. He was angry and hurt, but with his father’s insistence that anything but anger and rage was weak he was able to contain the overwhelming pain he felt and learning how much he was being used and played by his own father. 

Madeline’s smile faltered for a second. “Fine, have it your way.” Her emerald eyes shone with pride as she stood, her lips curved up into a sinister smile. “But just know without me you will never find your brother.” She said spinning on her heel, platinum blonde locks swaying behind her as she glided from the room feeling sure in herself that she had him where she wanted him. 

Brother? And Mara said something about my father refusing to lose another child? His mind raced as he tried to wrap his head around the fact that he may actually have two siblings he never knew about. 

“Liam, what did she mean by brother?” Raven questioned. 

“I don’t know but I intend to find out.” Liam replied, running a hand over his tired face. All the new facts not only turned his life upside down, but punched all the energy out of him. He needed to learn more, find out more about this possible sibling he never heard of before. He felt in his gut it had to be true, why else would his father take such extreme measures to keep his mother from leaving? One thing he was positive of, Madeline was only saying what she thought would gain his favor and put her by his side. 

He wouldn’t allow her to win, he didn’t need her. As much as it pained him there was one other person who may know the truth. As much as he’d grown to hate him, he was surprised that he trusted him more than those he’d already spoken to. 

Liam was surprised that he was about to turn to the last person he ever thought he would for help. There was only one remaining question, would Bastien help him after his attempt on Liza?

Feedback fuels me, please like, comment reblog or send an ask. Feel free to scream, I promise I can take it. 

Masterlist can be found in my bio.

Taglist will be reblogged.

[nothingeverlost]

Fic: As British as Apple Pie (Grahamavoy)

Thanksgiving prompt #4 (or 5?)

@ghostgirlalicia “How about something soft and domestic like making coffee or baking holiday pies.”

Graham’s THIRSTY though so ‘soft’ turned into ‘smut.’  Takes place about 9 months after the latest thing in this verse, about a year and a half after Joseph’s transplant.  It’s shockingly low angst.

________________________________

Graham wasn’t worth anything before his first cup of coffee in the morning.  That was his only excuse, and the only reason he was in the kitchen a full five minutes before it occurred to him that Joseph was using a knife.  

“Last I checked ‘no knives for Joseph’ was the number one house rule, love.”  Joseph’s cooking skills in general were questionable and he wasn’t usually responsible for more than making sandwiches.  As for his knife skills, well there was a reason they kept a large box of plasters in the kitchen.

“The apples have to be sliced before they’re baked.”  He used the knife to gesture at the recipe in front of him.  Graham sighed.  Baking was even worse than cooking.

“They should be peeled first.”  He took the knife from Joseph, putting it down a safe distance from his love’s reach.  With a pairing knife in one hand he picked up an apple and peeled it in one long coil.

“Where did you learn to do that?”

“Picked it up somewhere.”  His grandfather had taught him when he was a kid, the same grandfather that had hung up on him when he was seventeen and reaching out.  Instead of answering too truthfully and ruining the mood in the kitchen he took a bite of apple peel, making a show of drawing it slowly into his mouth.  It was almost too easy to make Joseph blush.

“Now we cut it in half and scoop out the core.”  He used a melon baller, a trick he’d learned in a restaurant kitchen once, to remove the core.  

“Show me again?” Joseph asked once the apple was sliced.

“You show me.”  He handed Joseph the knife, wrapping his hand over his lover’s and resting his chin on Joseph’s shoulder.  Together they moved slowly, their combined fingers getting sticky from the apple juice.  They got even sticker when Joseph mixed together the sugar, spices, and flour with the apple slices by hand.

“Don’t move a muscle.”  Graham pinched together the crust around the rim of the pie.  It wasn’t the fancy lattice his sister would probably do but it was good enough to get the pie in the oven.  The timer was set, giving them almost an hour before they needed to check on it.  He caught Joselg turning on the faucet.  “What did I say about not moving?”

“I was just going to wash my hands.”  He held them up, palms facing out.  It looked like he was surrendering.

“Just what I didn’t want you to do.”  He could see that Joseph was about to ask why; it amazed him sometimes how unaware of things his boyfriend was.  He still didn’t understand how attractive he was, how much his actions could be a seduction, the inherent eroticism of sticky sweet fingers.  Graham drew one into his mouth.  “I wanted to do it for you.”

“Oh.”  It was almost comical, how quickly Joseph went from being confused to understanding.  

“Pie’s gonna take an hour, love.  Do you have anything to do before it’s done?”  Nat was at work and he didn’t have to be anywhere for hours yet.  He kept hold of Joseph’s wrist and switched his attention to the thumb, drawing it into his mouth slowly, teasing the tip before using suction.

“I should clean up.”  There was flour and apple on the counter and dishes in the sink.

“Later.”  He used the hand holding onto Joseph to pull him from the kitchen towards their bedroom, pausing long enough to grab the bowl the apples had been in.  Joseph looked at it quizzically, but didn’t ask.  “Works out nicely that I haven’t made the bed yet.”

“I want to taste your fingers too.”  Joseph’s face flushed; nine months since they've resumed their sexual relationship and he was still bashful about expressing his desire.  His cheeks were almost the same color as the pink jersey he wore; no longer confined to the black garments of a priest Joseph had learned to wear colors.  Nat had been more than willing to influence his wardrobe. Graham tossed the empty bowl on the bed.

“You only ever have to ask.”  He held out his hand, and wished he’d taken a moment to back up against the wall because when Joseph licked his palm he felt weak in the knees.  It was the sight of Joseph’s pleasure as much as the warm mouth that had him swearing.  “Fuck.”

“You taste good, but you always do.”  The flat of Joseph’s tong rested against his pulse.  

“Want to taste you everywhere.  Bed,” he pleaded, pulling his shirt over his head and pushing down his flannel pajama bottoms.  He hadn’t bothered to put on any pants..  Unlike Joseph who dressed first thing in the morning in trousers and shirts even if he wasn’t leaving the flat, Graham pulled on just enough clothing that he wasn’t wandering naked.  Unless, of course, it was to his advantage to wander naked; sometimes Joseph needed very blatant signs.  “Jersey off first.”  

“We’ll get the sheets sticky,”  Joseph paused for just a moment, looking at his hands.

“Washing sticky sheets is my favorite chore.  It means we had a lot of fun first.”  Graham laughed and gently pushed his lover onto the bed.  He knelt next to him, resting one hand on the now naked belly just above the snap of his trousers.  He reached for the bowl, tilting it sideways, allowing the scant spoonfuls of apple syrup and spices to splash onto Joseph’s stomach.  From the corner of his eye he could see his love flinch slightly.  “Cold?”

Joseph shook his head.  “I just realized what you were planning.”

“You mean this?”  He lowered his head, lapping at a pool of apple juices, catching a drop as it rolled down on side.  Joseph’s belly was soft and rounded, what some men might bemoan as a middle age spread but Graham celebrated as a sign of health.  No longer could he count his lover’s ribs; every time Joseph had to loosen his belt it felt like a victory.

“Or this?”  His licks moved higher up, chasing the taste of cinnamon and sweetness to Joseph’s clavicle.  He waited until he was sucking on Joseph’s earlobe before undoing his love’s trouser button.  “Still worried about things getting sticky?”

“Please, Graham.”  Joseph’s hips jutted up when Graham stroked him through his pants.  Graham chuckled and kissed his love.

“Tell me, sweetheart.”  There was nothing Graham had ever found that was as erotic as his love finding the words to ask for what he wanted.

“I want to feel you.”  he wiggled his hips, trying to shift his pants down and free himself from the trousers.

“I’m right here.”  There wasn’t much juice left in the bowl but Graham wiped the inside with two fingers and painted Joseph’s lower lip, not allowing it to remain long before licking it away.

“Inside me.  Please, I want to feel you inside.”  Hands so much stronger and more steady than they’d been a year ago pulled at his hips, close enough that his tip rubbed against Joseph’s trousers.

“Let’s get these off you.”  He crawled to the end of the bed to tug off the last bits of clothing and rolled over to the side of the bed to reach for his bedside drawer.  The box of condoms he kept there wasn’t small, and it was well used.  The lube was getting low; they’d need to pick up some more soon.  Perhaps it was time to introduce his love to a sex shop.  When he looked back at Joseph he’d rolled to his side, a blatant invitation he was glad to accept.

“You smell like apples.”  He buried his nose in the crook between neck and shoulder when he tucked himself behind Joseph, teasing his love with lube to make sure he was ready.

“I’d rather smell like you.  I do, sometimes, after making love to you.  I can smell you on my skin.”  Joseph rolled his head as far as he could to see the man behind him.  Graham growled low in his throat.  Fuck, but the man was erotically honest.  He didn’t need to see the look in Joseph’s eyes to know that he spoke with sincerity.  He couldn’t wait longer and pressed into his lover.  If joseph wanted to smell like him he’d do his damndest to make it happen.

“Sticky,” was the first thing he said after, teasing about the state of their sheets.  They would definitely need to do laundry.

“Might need another shower,”  Joseph murmured, tugging Graham’s hand so his arm wrapped around his waist.

“I thought you wanted to smell like me,” he mock pouted.

“Company for dinner.”  Joseph sounded sleepy; Graham glanced at the clock and figured they had fifteen minutes or so before needing to check on the pie.  They could take a short nap.

“Company?”  He didn’t remember anything about people coming over.

“Nat’s bringing her bloke for dinner.  That’s why I attempted a pie.”  Joseph twined their fingers together.  “Take a deep breath, sweetheart.  It’s just dinner.”

“It’s a meet the family dinner.  She’s bringing him home and we’re having dinner and I was tricked into helping.”  He tried to sit up, but Joseph leaned back into him, pinning him into place.  It wasn’t fair, Nat wasn’t even home and his sister and boyfriend were ganging up on him.  Family dinner meant she was serious about the guy.  “I’m not ready for this, Joe.”

“He makes her happy, and you want her to be happy, don’t you?”  Joseph rolled over so they were facing each other.  “I can vouch firsthand how much  it can change your life for the better to be loved by a member of the Hughes family.”

“You aren’t fighting fair,” Graham pouted.  Damn it, Joseph would choose to get sentimental on him.  “Loving you changed my life too.”

“For the better?”  There was just a hint of uncertainty in Joseph’s voice.

“How can you possibly doubt that?”  He did his best to kiss any doubts away.

“Nat deserves the same chance, love.”  Their foreheads were pressed together.  Graham could smell their scents mingled together.  He sighed.

“Yeah, she does.”  That didn’t mean he was going to make things easy for this Adam bloke.  Starting with his plan to try and lure Joseph into a second round.  Maybe if he was lucky they’d ‘accidentally’ burn the pie.

[alienated-idiot]

I'm doing one of those stupid facebook questionnaires because I'm DRUGGED UP and CAFFEINATED

_______________________________________________

Learn 36 things about your friends and let them learn 36 things about you!

1. Do you like blue cheese?

Absolutely the FUCK not. Who likes tasting mold on a salad or cheese burger? Not me.

2. Have you ever smoked?

Smoke what? All of the above anyways, except meth because fuck that shit

3. Do you own a gun?

Yes, a BB gun that's going with my Halloween costume

4. What flavor Kool-Aid?

None of the above

5. Do you get nervous before the Dr?

Only the gyno

6. What do you like on hot dogs?

Motha fuckin mustard, ketchup, relish, and maybe onions

7. Favorite Movie?

I really like The Iron Giant or The Breakfast Club

8. What do you like to drink in the A.M?

Orange juice or coffee

9. Can you do a push up?

No, not really lol

10. What's your favorite piece of jewelry?

I cant really wear jewelry because I'm allergic to the majority of it

11. Do you have a favorite hobby or past time?

I doodle, draw. Whatever you want to call it.

13. Do you wear glasses?

Yeah, I have to or I can't function

14. Who was your childhood idol?

I looked up to my brothers a lot. They basically raised me, too, since my mom was working 2 jobs at the time and wasn't really home because of that

15. Name 3 thoughts at the moment:

• Holy fuck why do my meds do this to me

• I am an adult, why am I hyper at 8 PM

• I need some food

16. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink:

• Water

• Juice

• Mountain Dew

17. Current worries:

I dont know if my current job is going to allow me to be financially stable enough to move out with my fiance into an apartment, away from his crazy ass mom, and still be able to afford groceries, my student loans, and my medical bills (probably not, I'm in debt, help)

18. Current hates:

Bleu cheese, my boyfriend's stinky feet, and the state the country (and/or world) is in

19. Favorite place to be?

In the woods. Where I live is close to a national forest, so sometimes I like to just drive through the canyon that runs through it and listen to music. The big circle that I drive is like, 30 min long.

20. How do you bring in the New Year?

Usually just watch Netflix until WOO its 12 am and kiss my boyfriend and pass out

21. Where would you like to go?

Into my own grave

22. Name 5 people that will do this questionnaire.

Absolutely. Fucking. No. One. Will.

23. Do you own slippers?

Yes, they're pink monster feet ones

24. What color shirt are you in?

A black hoodie

25. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets?

NO I have to sleep on those t shirt Jersey type sheets because the texture of normal sheets bother the fuck out of me, and just satin in general gives me texture issues

26. Can you whistle?

Yeah, not well tho

27. Where are you now?

At home like a dumb bitch

28. Would you be a pirate?

Hell yeah

29. What song do you sing in the shower?

I don't really sing in the shower

30. Favorite sport team?

Uhhhh? Who ever is winning?

31. Favorite food?

Pineapple pizza and tuna mac

32. What's in your pocket?

I've got some pennies and a quarter. I'm rich.

33. The last thing that made you laugh?

I was watching tik tik videos like a cringe lord about 10 min ago

34. What's your favorite animal?

RACOONS AND CATS

35. Worst injury?

I've never broken anything but 2 different times that I've fallen off a skateboard ive:

• shredded the whole side of my thigh and ass cheek because I was sitting on the skateboard, going really fast, and hit a rock that made it wobble (it wasn't a very good skateboard to begin with) this ending in me falling off going like 15 mph. This happened 5 years ago

• hyper extended my left knee because I AGAIN fell up and launched the board down the road but made my lower leg fly up, but not the rest. I still have issues with it and it's been 4 years

Fact about me now: I dont ride skateboards anymore because I injure myself horribly and fall off EVERYTIME

36. How many TV's in your house?

We have 2, were working on a third one to put in the living room so we can use our Wii and stuff (dont tell my boyfriend but I'm also working to get him a Switch for Christmas)

Copy & paste to your page.

Then change answers to your own. Enjoy!!