#honestly never deserved her in the first place jesus the amount of shit she was dealt and shouldered

[elizabethmasen]

oh good the one decent prime minister we had was just bullied out of the job because of how fucking vile our population is. superb.

[hypaalicious]

hypaa what did you think of lonetrail? i've seen surprisingly negative opinions here but i personally loved it and agree with the people who say this is one of the best stories they've done!

Negative opinions??? IMO the only negative opinion that matters coming out of Lone Trail should be that Rhine Lab scientists are eugenics-loving amoral narcissists with god complexes!

But I’m kinda not surprised at the same time to hear this because sad to say, the perception of EN server players not ever reading for shit is true, so when they are forced to read blocks of text it’s always gonna skew negative I bet 😂

But yeah I’m totally with you there; it IS one of the best stories they’ve ever done. The amount of depth they were able to convey tying so many loose ends together deserves an award! I told some of my friends the other day that for the very first time ever the story was way more compelling than the limited banner LOL (cause let’s face it, it’s the most mid limited banner AK has done thus far; if MuMu wasn’t limited then I honestly would have skipped it entirely).

Silence is probably the only adult from Rhine Lab that I truly respect because she stood on her values from jump. Ifrit and Ptilopsis were victims. Saria didn’t truly have her coming to Jesus moment until Kristen’s shenanigans humbled her. Dorothy and Kristen both shoulda gone to therapy instead of abusing their power to ruin people’s lives for their own selfish gain. Both Parvis and Loken didn’t suffer enough for me tbh (even tho I respect Rosmontis’s way of handling the latter). It’s a beautiful tale of what happens when you place “progress” over people, personal growth, intrigue, politics… whew. HG ate with this story and they know it.

A part of me wishes that Arknights had the acclaim that other narrative-driven games do, but I know it’ll never happen because it’s mobile and also a tower defense game. It’s seriously underrated and Lone Trail proves it!

[malepresentingleg]

A list of Never Let Me Go characters by order of the amount of rights they deserve, decided by me:

Maggie - she was on thin ice at first but quickly proved herself to be the most rights worthy. Actually wants to be Palm's friend and tells him he deserves things, she speaks my mind :').

Palm - he's a total sweetheart, honestly. The only reason I'm deducting points is because he's for some reason in love with a total asshole and he thinks he's really kind ??

Ben - was throwing Nueng under the bus a dick move? yeah sure. But man this boy was just outed and faced with his homophobic dad so??? what the fuck Nueng. Got some points taken because he was sus in his behavior about Palm in the beginning.

Mam (Palm's mom) - it's possible she's too high up here but there are just so many shitty characters sooo. I feel like their relationship should be a lot less casual since she fucking ABONDADNED her child, but at least now she's doing some good parenting with her advice and anger to his dad and gave a semi decent explanation.

Chopper - listen. He could have been placed a lot higher since he's a cutie, and it's not his fault he was born rich I guessss, but he trades fucking bitcoins or something, and some crimes cannot be forgiven.

Aun - I mean. Selling pictures to out people? pretty damn low. Very bad. I have some sympathy bc he said he's poor (tho isn't he in a rich school...? kinda sus).

Chanon (Palm's dad) - he has SOME qualities but jesus please see your son as a fucking person wtf????/

Nueng's dad - I mean, he's dead so that gives him some extra points ig? he seemed nice but he's rich and evil sooo

Tanya (Nueng's mom) - look. I'm glad she loves her son and is not homophobic but she's evil rich and ruins the poor people's lives and says shit like "we didn't do anything wrong it's our land".

Phum - I mean yeah he's an evil bully but maybe Nueng deserved it 👀.

Nueng - entitled bratty rich boy asshole. Started with some sympathy by me bc damn that's traumatizing but there's a limit to how much that excuses. The way he doesn't hold his mom accountable and only cares about her and him, and of course jesus christ the way he treats Palm!!!! Forcing him to be with him and spend time with him, getting him in trouble, shouting at him and blaming him and being completely entitled and asshole-y, and then for some reason being framed as a gentle sensitive soul hello???

Kit (Chopper's dad) - I mean he's the straight-up villain.

[thepartyresponsible]

I'd love to hear about the stevetonytimehop story!

oh boy. so the name sounds fun, but this fic is actually quite dark at the beginning. which is probably why i don’t work on it very often.

anyway, here’s some endgame inspired angst. warnings for a lot of referenced character deaths and also for alcoholism and depression and just general despair.

                                                            —   

Tony’s drunk the first time it happens. Drunk enough that he assumes the whole thing is a hallucination. Some dregs of his conscience teaming up with whatever base will to live remains left in him, dropping him here in the hopes that he’ll learn something from it.

“Shit,” he says, blinking around at all the assembled mourners. “Which one of you is the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come?”

Pepper’s mouth falls open, and, when she blinks, tears track down her face. Beside her, Rhodey looks stricken.

It’s nice, seeing Rhodey look anything at all.

“Jacob Marley,” Tony says. He tips the bottle Rhodey’s direction and is absolutely thrilled that his subconscious mind had the mercy to bring this particular crutch with him. “Icarus?” he tries, when that gets no response.

And that’s a new metaphor he’s never properly appreciated. He’s always thought of himself as a Sisyphean figure, but Daedalus has his resonance.

“Who the hell are you?”

It’s been years since Tony heard that voice. Years and years, if you don’t count all the nightmares. Years and years and years, except for all the videos, the footage from the suit cameras, the endless loops that play all night while Tony stares, tracking every missed chance to change the outcome.

Tony’s watched Steve die a thousand times. He’s memorized it. Steve’s death has all the familiarity of sunrise.

It’s strange hearing him say something other than Tony’s name. Strange hearing his voice so strong and clear. For half a second, when Tony looks at him, he can see blood bubbling up at the corners of his mouth.

But it’s not there. Because this Steve isn’t dying. This Steve is standing tall and steady, with all his bones and blood on the inside.

Tony’s at his own funeral, but here, somehow, Steve got to live.

“Tiny Tim,” Tony says.

And it fits, because Tiny Tim had his broken leg and everything about Steve was broken. Everything but his face, that jawline, those bright blue eyes. Blood everywhere, and his face going pale, but still so fucking beautiful.

“Dad?”

There’s a kid. She’s looking at him like her heart is breaking with a hope it isn’t big enough to hold.

Everywhere he goes, he breaks every good thing he finds.

“Fuck,” he says. The world sways; his stomach lurches. He drops the bottle in his hand, and, when he throws up, he throws up in a different universe.

                                                              —

“I mean, I don’t know what to tell you.” This universe’s Bruce doesn’t need glasses. 20/20 vision, apparently. It’s weird how he still pinches the bridge of his nose when he’s exasperated. “Honestly, Tony, you’re the one I’d normally ask.”

“Okay,” Tony says. He kicks his legs. He’s sitting on a desk Bruce that insists is his, but it doesn’t feel familiar. This universe’s Tony wrote all his notes in code. This universe’s Tony is paranoid and skittish, pilots the Iron Man suit remotely, hasn’t been seen in public since he was rescued from the Ten Rings two and a half years after he was captured.

This universe’s Tony disappeared ten days ago, and every single Iron Man suit self-detonated forty-eight hours later.

Hell of a dead man’s switch, Tony thinks. But if he’d been in those caves for two and a half years, he has no idea what kind of creature would’ve come crawling out.

“And this other me,” Tony says, “does he spend a lot of his time fucking around with universe-hopping?”

Bruce shrugs. “A casual amount,” he says. “Kinda did a tour after the Accords.”

“Right.” After the Accords, Tony stayed drunk for two weeks straight. After the Accords, he locked himself out of his own labs. After the Accords, he walked into the ocean until the water rose over his head, and he tasted salt in his mouth, and he thought about the Ten Rings holding his head under until he blacked out.

In this universe, Steve Rogers died in New York at age five. Bucky Barnes was Captain America. Is Captain America. Has always been Captain America.

And he’s been nothing but helpful. Kind. Concerned about this new Tony, clearly distraught over losing the one that belongs here.

“I shot you,” Tony tells Barnes. The whole team – what amounts to the team in this universe, anyway – is eating dinner, and Tony can’t stomach the way Barnes looks at him, all polite and pained, like Tony’s a cancer patient instead of a cancerous growth, eating into this universe. “In the head,” he clarifies. “I shot you in the head.”

Clint and Natasha tip their heads together. Scott drops his fork.

Barnes chews and swallows. “Did I deserve it?”

The laugh sticks in Tony’s throat and comes out as something ugly. The glass shakes in his hand. He holds so tight that it shatters, and then he’s in a new universe, a fourth universe, and he’s bleeding from the shards of glass embedded in his palm, and Steve Rogers is in bed with him.

                                                              —

“What the fuck,” Tony says, to Steve, to the white sheets, to everything. “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.”

“Tony,” Steve says. His hands are warm. He grabs Tony’s wrist, stares at the cuts. “Okay, come on. Let’s get---”

“Stop,” Tony says. He pulls away, trips, lands hard on the carpet, good hand braced against the carpet. “Get the fuck--”

“Okay,” Steve says. Hands up, eyes wide.

This Steve looks young. Fresh from the ice. Beautiful.

“Tony?” he says. “You’re bleeding.”

So were you, Tony wants to say. So were you, until you stopped.

“Please,” Steve says. “I know you’re not my Tony. But you’re—I just want to look at your hand, okay?”

“Last time I trusted you,” Tony says, “you damn near split the arc reactor with your shield.”

Steve flinches. “I didn’t,” he says. “That wasn’t me.”

And Tony knows it wasn’t. Because that Steve is dead. That Steve died in his arms. His last word was Tony’s name.

“I want this to be over,” Tony says.

Steve reaches down and picks him up like he weighs nothing, and Tony forgot about that. He forgot how strong Steve is, the trick of him.

Steve Rogers makes people feel safe. It’s an illusion. You’re never in more danger than when you’re close to Steve.

He and Tony have that in common.

“I’m sorry,” Tony says.

Says it to this whole, beautiful Steve. When he looks at him, he can see all the places the other Steve split apart, the joint where his arm snapped, the white t-shirt stretched over the chest that was smashed open.

Steve, standing against the entirety of Thanos’ army. And they were too late. Just like Tony had always known they were going to be.

“You’re okay,” Steve tells him, voice soft, tone soothing.

But that doesn’t help, because that’s the problem.

Tony’s fine. Steve’s dead. Rhodey’s dead. Pepper’s dead.

Peter’s dead.

Barnes is dead.

Someday, whichever Tony started this mad game of multiverse duck-duck-goose, is going to crash into a universe he likes, and Tony doesn’t know who he’ll have left when it’s over.

It can’t be less than who he had left when it started.

But maybe what he fears most is having to go back to the empty world he created. Maybe that’s exactly what he deserves. Sisyphus, and his rock.

“Hey,” Steve says, setting him down on the bathroom counter, running his hand under warm water, “it’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Tony closes his eyes. “Jesus, Steve,” he says. “We never are.”

[darthwheezely]

Okay so BY NO MEANS DO YOU HAVE TO WRITE THIS IF YOU AREN'T UP FOR IT!!! BUT- can you write something where Jimmy holds the reader down and just overstimulates them with his fingers and whenever it gets too much he kind of teases them about it (in like a sweet way but still not stopping). IDK- it's a hot thought if you're up for it!!! AGAIN YOU DON'T HAVE TO IF YOU DON'T WANT TO! Thank you and I hope you have a wonderful night/day💗💗

Finger Lickin’ Good - Jimmy Darling x Reader

Jimmy’s way too pent up to let those beautiful hands of his go to waste...

Warnings: NSFW/18+, if you’re a minor plEASE do not interact w this I know you wanna be spicy but sis please do not, okay? cussing probably, soft dom!Jimmy, possibly awful writing, my kink for Jimmy’s hands and heart and body and mind and-

a/n: lindsey, miss ma’am, you literally know i’m a whore for this man and besides, you could request the most whack shit and i would still prolly write it if only to see your reaction ajsjsjs

To say that Jimmy’s balls were blue was an absolute understatement. The man was honestly lucky enough to have balls at the rate (or rather, lack of) things were going. You and Jimmy’s sex life was always - well something neither of you ever needed to worry about, but lately with Elsa running around covering all her legal bases, she had sent everyone in a frenzy.

Unfortunately for you two this meant less than satisfactory time together. It was always something. And to be quite honest, Jimmy didn’t know if he could go another two weeks without touching you. And to make matters worse he knew you weren’t making it any easier.

It started with little things, light touches on his shoulders, something usual in your relationship. Then jaw kisses before going onstage. Then wearing The Dress.

Yes. That dress. The a-line that managed to not only show off a small but still good amount of cleavage, the waistline elastic bow on the back sinking into where your elevated waist hit naturally, and the worst? It was white. Jimmy had a thing for you in white.

That morning he couldn’t take it anymore. I mean, clearly, you wanted to act that dirty with him knowing he couldn’t touch you, right? So what was he gonna do about it? 

He was gonna show you exactly who had the upper hand.

*your POV uwu*

You would never say it out loud, but you only wore The Dress for days exactly like this: to torture your boyfriend. And honestly? You didn’t think you could go a day without imagining those intensely gifted fingers on (or in) you for another goddamn hour. But you also couldn’t say that.

So you had decided that morning to show him instead - he always was a visual learner...

You had been talking to Evie and eating your plate of bacon and hashbrowns when you felt two large, calloused hands collapse on your shoulder blades.

“Evie, mind if I steal the lady away for a second?” He drawled lowly. The way he said it combined with the weight of his hands on your body hit your core instantly.

Eve rolled her eyes, smirking. “If ‘a second’ is all it’ll take.” You smiled tightly at her as you allowed your boyfriend to guide you, albeit rather roughly, back to the van. Immediately as you got inside he pushed you up against the fridge and you winced from the pain.

“Jimmy, what the-” He stopped you with his mouth on yours, open and hungry, his hands working up the back of your thighs, causing a moan to erupt from you on impact into his mouth.

“You knew exactly what you were doing to me out there, and you thought it was a fuckin’ okay idea to tease me?” He lowered his mouth to your earlobe and downward, light nibbles on hot skin turning to harsh bites. You could feel his fully hardened cock against your heat and you wanted more than ANYTHING for those jeans to be off his body.

“I-I’m sorry, baby I just thought you’d li- oh fuck, Jimmy” You gasped, as he’d found that place right above your collar bone that (as he came to found out) was one of the most sensitive spots on your torso. Smirking against your skin, he traced the area with open mouthed kisses and began to bite again, leaving you attempting to stifle breathy high pitched whines.

“What was that, babydoll?” His hands picked up your thighs and brought your legs around his waist, pressing you harder against the fridge.

“I said I’m sorry” you gasped, pained by the feeling and the need for him. He smirked, bringing his thumb up to your chin and kneading it lightly.

“Aw, princess, I’m not mad at you. But the way I see it is that I’m gonna split that sweet little pussy of yours open with these-” he dragged his two fore fingers across your bruised collar bone, and looked back up at you.

“-and then you’re going to come so hard you can’t breathe. Sound good, baby?” He smiled softly at you. You bit your lip to hold back a moan and did your best to nod without moving any part of his body out of place. He chuckled watching you, and without a moments notice lifted you with toned tensed biceps and carried you to the bed, an array of heavy kisses being exchanged on the journey.

He dropped you on the bed watching as your breasts moved from the impact and groaned at the sight. He looked into your bright/dark eyes and flipped the lower half up, breath hitching in his throat. God, was he the luckiest fucker this side of the Mississippi. 

“Jesus, baby, you’re so goddamn beautiful,” he breathed, a dopey smile plastered on his face as he attacked you with kisses on your face, making you giggle at his soft demeanor.

“For someone so mad a second ago you seem to suddenly be pretty forgiving,” you laughed.

“I can still be mad but have eyes, Y/N, don’t get your panties in a twist” he scoffed, smiling into the crook of your neck.

“Oh, so I still get to keep my panties on by the end of this little argument?” You purred dragging your hands slowly down the back of his white tank top, barely touching him. And just like that, he was back to the state he was before. Instantly, he sat up and unbuckled his jeans, taking the brown belt in his hands he forced your wrists onto the headboard. 

“Now, just when did I say that?” He growled, tightening the hold on the belt. You knew your wrists would be raw as hell after however long this escapade took but strangely enough - that only got you more slick.

“JImmy, please” you whimpered, pleading with his whiskey eyes. He leaned back on his knees and began to slowly creep his tough and warm hands up and down your legs, inching his perfect fingers to your thighs at an agonizingly slow pace. 

“Angel,” he purred “you know I can’t help you if you don’t use your words.” You moaned at the idea of his fingers getting closer to where you needed them, tugging on the belt but forgetting (this bastard-)

“JImmy, please gimme”

“Give you what, baby? Tell me what you need, yeah?” He slid his fingers right outside of your clothed core and gently kneaded the skin there, pushing lightly, sending your back upward as you let out a loud moan.

“Jimmy, please, give me your fingers” you pushed out. He bit his lip at the sight of you, red faced, needy, and ready to be torn apart. His breath hitched as he slid two fingers inside you, not being able to tease you for very much longer. He needed you to come apart, to be unraveled as soon as possible - but not without a price.

“There you go” he whispered roughly, his fingers working against you the way you needed them to. You felt like your core was getting pried apart and hearing his fingers only sink deeper into your heat made you even more wet. He moved his fingers in you faster once he was completely in you, and started to jut his hips toward you involuntarily as he imagined how you would feel around his cock since it’d been so long-

“God, you’re so tight for me, Y/N, fuck” he choked out harshly, ghosting his thumb over your clit, tracing circles where you needed it. “Almost like this pussy was made for me, isn’t it baby?”

The sudden gentleness, however, retreated as fast as it arrived, as he picked up the pace, curling his fore fingers in you at an iron-hot speed. You felt your wrists becoming rawer and rawer by the second as your body strained for release to touch him, to imagine feeling your hands clawing his back and feverishly running your fingers through his coiffed hair. You screamed out harshly as he found your most sensitive point. You felt the white hot tension in your stomach as you approached your release.

“JIm, baby, please I’m-I’m so-” and then you felt him pull his fingers out, whining at the loss of contact. He cocked his head at you, eyeing you up and down biting his lip.

“You always want things, so easy, lovebug,” he said softly. Leaning all the way back so he returned to his knees at the edge of the bed. He pulled his shirt off and started to unbutton his pants, his fully erect cock straining against his boxers. You drooled at the sight of him almost completely naked. 

He dipped his head once he knew you were calmed down enough, pressing sloppy kisses on your calves up to the lower part of your thighs. He hitched a leg up on his shoulder, looking up at you first for consent and licking a stripe up your folds. 

“You taste as good as you look, little girl” he growled against you, the vibrations sending your head flying backward a squeak erupting from your lips. 

“Should I taste more of you? I don’t know if you deserve it little girl. You looked like you wanted one of the boys to take a turn with you before me. Or did you act like a whore today all for me?” he bit your inner thigh lightly, sucking on the skin there like it was gold. You cried out hoarsely, desperately pulling on his hair.

“Only for you, Jim, I promise” you feel him smirk against you as he began sucking onto your sensitive bud, your arousal building in your stomach like a fire pit. His fingers continuing to work against you as you felt release inching nearer again.

“Please, Jimmy, please” his tongue curling pressure where you needed him, the weight of him against you pooling what felt like everywhere in your system.

“Go on, honey, go on and come for me and tell me who this pussy belongs to” he pressed your hips to the bed as you cried out his name in release of everything he’d done to you.

“Jimmy, that was-“

“Good? Don’t sound so surprised” he teased softly winking up at you. His hand slid to the back of your dress, dancing along the zipper.

“But you didn’t think you were done here, did you, little girl?”

[heyheyloki]

Lost In Translation

Summary: Halloween Special (yes it’s a few days late whoops)

Aaron Hotchner x M!Reader

Word Count: 2409

It was finally the time for kids to dress up as their favorite superheroes, teens to disobey their parents and party, and finally, adults like you to work a case during your favorite holiday. You even prayed to god, which wasn’t something you did, like ever. But you did. You prayed that there would be no case tonight, that the bad guys would just take a break from killing and kidnapping for just one goddamn night. Sadly, your prayers weren’t answered. 

“Happy Halloween, [Name]!” Garcia shouted with glee when you walked into the meeting room. It seemed to just be the two of you for now. 

“Don’t remind me, please.” You huffed out as you plopped down in your chair. “I’m already depressed enough.”

“Why, sugar?” She asked with a saddened tone, her smile turning down.

“I was supposed to have a night of dancing with random people in masks and casually making out with whoever I pleased,” you huffed. You were so mad about the entire thing that you continued to rant to Garcia without a care. “I mean, can’t the bad guys just take a break for once? I had a whole costume picked out, right? Now, I can’t even wear it cause by the time we get back it’ll be fucking thanksgiving or something.”

You didn’t notice the expression change on Garcia’s face until you finished up, her eyes stared behind you in horror. Seriously, it was like her worst nightmare just walked through the door or something. So, your chair turned your body towards Garica’s fear to make eye contact with your boss, Aaron Hotchner. 

“Ah, well, at least this halloween isn’t totally ruined,” you hummed as a coy smirk inched across your lips as if it belonged there. “At least I get to see some type of candy.”

The absolute silence that struck the room when that left your lips was something you were used to by now, after all, you’ve been the ‘team flirt’ for a while that. The name was given to you by Hotch to make him feel better since you never did flirt with the team, just him, always.

“Watch it,” Morgan teased as he passed by Hotch. Reid was quick to join in the fun with, “Yeah, he might actually fall for it.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe that was my intention?” You questioned as you turned your attention away from your boss and to Reid and Morgan that both sat next to you at the same time.

“Damn, someone’s cranky.” Morgan said.

“I wanted my fun night of kissing random strangers at a club with masks.” You summarized what you said to Garcia. “Instead, I’m stuck hanging with the Scooby Do gang.”

Reid paused. His brows furrowed when he asked, “Scooby Do?”

You stared at him with a deadpanned look before dismissing the entire thing and getting ready for this case to be over with.

On the jet, you kept to yourself in the corner with your headphones blasting music into your brain. Some of your teammates wondered how you haven’t lost even part of your hearing yet. However, as you stared out the window with a far-out look, someone wouldn’t take his eyes off you. 

On the other side of the jet was Hotch with his eyes glued to you, almost like he couldn’t take them off of you no matter how hard he tried. To him, something about you drew him in closer even if he didn’t want to. The words and look you gave him earlier stuck in his mind as it played on repeat, over and over again until he was satisfied. Though, while in his own head, it took Rossi multiple tries to shake the man out of his daze. 

“Damn, only took me ten tries this time.” Rossi said under his breath so only Hotch heard. 

The man sighed, his eyes glancing over towards you once more before eyeing Rossi. “Sorry, I, uh, just spaced out for a moment. What were you saying?”

Rossi gave Hotch an all-knowing look, a look that spoke to him without having the older Italian man to open his damn mouth. “I was just saying that this case is probably going to make us stay for multiple nights.”

“I suppose so.” Hotch replied, not yet catching on.

“It’s in the middle of no where with a low population.” Rossi smirked. “We might have to double up.”

Aaron stared at his long term friend for a moment, his mind running without having his brown eyes show it. However, his mind danced and entertained the fantasy that he would have to double up with you. That there would be one bed. That you would allow him to share the bed with you instead of kicking him to the floor. 

“We’ll see when we get there.”

By the time the first day of investigating ended, the team had no leads and needed a place to crash for the night. The police station wouldn’t do so your team was recommended to a small motel cottage in the middle of the woods. It was cozy and yet somewhat unsettling at the same time. The kind of place were you wouldn’t want to be alone, but wouldn’t mind spending it in the arms of another. 

“I’m not sleeping with Reid.” Morgan suddenly announced to the group once the owner said that she only had single rooms, and only a limited amount of them.

“Who said you were going to?” You smirked as you stared at your co-worker. It was always a trait of yours to tease Morgan or Spence, and you took any opportunity you could.

Morgan gave you a side-glance before looking down at Garcia who was on the couch in the lobby in front of him, her hand resting on his forearm before calling dibs. You saw that coming, but it was quicker than you thought it would be. 

You weren’t too fond of the idea since you had your own quirks when it came to sleeping, but you knew you had to hold off on them for your team member’s sakes. Patiently, you waited to hear who would room with who until your hears heard a loud and clear, “[Name] and Hotch can take a room, I’ll room with Reid, and JJ can room with Prentiss.”

Your eyes, as well as many others, jumped to the voice. You could feel your heart beat furiously against your chest when you saw the smirk across Rossi’s older face. It was one that was up to something, you knew that much, and you didn’t know what until you saw the fear run across Hotch’s chestnut eyes.

In your mischievous mind, you were happy. You were thrilled to be able to push the man that you pined over to his limits tonight. Though, on your logical side, you were terrified. You wanted to protest. You’d say you’d like to room with Reid or ask Garcia to switch with you. Yet, both of them at the same time made something in you anxious for the night. Anxious for the darkness to take over the room and consume you.

When Aaron and you came to the room, you were standing in the doorway with eyes staring blankly at the single bed that rest in the middle of the room. You guessed it, sure, but it was another thing to see it with a man so close next to you.

“I’ll take the floor, you can have the bed.” You hummed out. It surprised you as much as it startled Aaron. Normally, you’d jump at the chance to say something witty and making a flirtatious gesture, but for now, you rather not make him uncomfortable.

“It’s okay.” Aaron said. “You can take the bed.”

You paused. This was a chance, a chance to spit out those words and yet you remained calm and said with your back turned to him, “Okay.”

You wasted no time after that to hop into the shower. It was both a way to get away from your boss and clear your mind all in one go. The water trickled down your naked figure as you ran your fingers through your wet hair. A steady breath of oxygen left past your lips as you tried to empty your mind. Yet, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t help but think about the man you were sharing a room with tonight. Part of it sucked, and the other half didn’t. Right now though, it sucked. 

You turned off the water before placing a towel around your waist and hopped out the shower. You were about to spend some time on some well-deserved self care before you heard some clashing in the room outside. It startled you to the point where you completely forgot about your composer and ran out the bathroom with the thought of their being trouble on the other side of the door. However, instead of trouble there was just a very troubled Aaron Hotchner trying to do something about his spot on the floor. 

“What the hell!” You yelled out, his eyes immediately locking onto you without a second thought. “You scared the shit outta me, I thought something happened!”

Aaron leaned his head to the side a bit as he raised a brow. “I’m sorry?”

“You better be.” You huffed out. “Jesus, don’t do that shit to me again.”

“I won’t.” Aaron mumbled out as he tried his best to keep his eyes locked on yours. 

It was a moment before you noticed the cool air hitting your bare skin, your eyes widening as you slowly began to back into the bathroom again and stutter out, “Okay, so, uh, if you’re all good then I’m just, uh, gonna finish up real quick.”

You quickly shut the door behind you, your chest falling up and down for a few seconds before stabilizing. It took you a few seconds to get yourself together and finished up in the bathroom. Which, for Aaron, took forever. Seriously, he thought about knocking on the bathroom door and asking if he’d done something wrong. Though, before he was about to, you came out. This time with clothes. It wasn’t anything special, just a loose t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Honestly, the two of you kind of matched with your night clothes.

When you sat on the somewhat hard bed you gazed around the room. It was so bare compared to the other hotels you’ve had during your time with this team. It was almost like you weren’t even on the job but instead having a night out with Hotchner. Honestly, the thought made your body heat up a bit. 

“They could have at least gave us a tv.” You hummed out.

“I’m not sure if they even use those here.” Hotch replied as he laid down on the floor, his eyes studying the plain ceiling above. 

Your eyes were on him from the moment he began speaking. You felt sort of sorry for the man, after all, the bed may not be the softest, but it was better than the hard floor. All of the sheets in the world could never fix something like hard tile floorboards. You knew you didn’t need him having back problems in the morning, after all, he was the team leader. Without him, you weren’t sure if this team was even a team anymore.

So, without a strain in pitch in your voice you said, “Come here.”

Now, when you said it in your mind you thought it would sound better. Aloud, it just sounded either dirty, commanding, or both. Forget about it when he lifted his head up to look at you with narrowed and confused eyes. You swear if you didn’t know any better you were either in it for a scolding or a firing. 

“Sorry,” you recovered quickly. “I mean you can share the bed with me, if you want.”

You watched the confusion leave his hardened orbs quickly. However, they were promptly replaced with something that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It was so familiar yet unseen with him. 

“It’s alright. You can have it.” He said, though to you, it seemed forced.

You didn’t try and let that bug you too much and quickly kicked it from your thoughts. Your hand came to the sheets of the bed and patted on the sheets, calling him. “C’mon, you’ll strain your back or something if you sleep on the floor.”

Hotch hesitated. He wanted to, desperately almost. Yet, he didn’t at the same time. His yearning looks and shut down feelings around you were what got him through the day, what got him to do this job without solely focusing on you. Although, he couldn’t stop his body lift up from the floor and walk over to you, sitting down at your side.

It was silent for a moment as the tension slowly began to fill up, however, just before it overflowed you said, “What did Jack plan to be for Halloween this year?”

“I thought he was going to be Spiderman, but he changed his mind last minute.” Hotch replied.

“Yeah? To what?”

There was a small pause. Hotch looked down for a moment before gazing up into your eyes with a smile slowly coming to his face and answering, “Me. He said that I was his superhero.”

Your expression began to mirror Hotchner’s face. You knew that this Halloween was destroyed, but at least you gained some joy out of it. “That’s cute, but I’m not surprised.”

“How come?” Hotch questioned, his brows furrowing.

You leaned against Hotchner’s shoulder in a friendly and playful manner before going back to your original position. “Cause he’s got the best dad in the world.”

“Thank you,” Hotch smiled. “And, I’m sorry about this case ruining your day.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “It comes with the job, I shouldn’t be surprised. However, it did save me from a night of bad choices so maybe I should be grateful.”

“Well, if it means anything, I’m happy you’re here instead.” Hotch suddenly revealed.

Your eyes flicked with mischief, your body leaned in on instinct before asking, “Yeah? Why?”

“Because,” Hotch trailed on, his eyes running between your eyes and lips. “I wouldn’t be with you right now.”

You smiled, a smile so bright that it almost took his breath away. While you felt as if the day was ruined in the beginning because of work, it was only a side affect of being able to be in his moment. To be able to be with Aaron Hotchner in this moment and finally end this childish game that caused your feelings for the man to explode like a firework.

[caitlesshea]

the way you showed me you care

“Shit.”

Booker jumps about a half foot in the air and almost falls off the couch at the sound of his phone ringing. It’s been months since anyone has contacted him, so long that he was beginning to wonder why he even kept it charged. 

In some self sacrificial moments he thought about changing his number so they couldn’t contact him, tricking himself into thinking they would. 

He fumbles forward and goes to answer when it blessedly stops ringing. Just because it takes an insane amount of alcohol for him to get drunk doesn’t mean he hasn’t spent the last couple of months trying. 

Just as he lays back down on the couch it rings again and when he goes to answer it his stomach sinks. 

Copley. 

“What?” Booker growls into the phone and the voice on the other end just sighs.

“How soon can you get to London?”

“Why? Is Andy?” 

“Everyone’s fine.”

Booker releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding and rubs his forehead until he calms down.

“Then why?”

“London. How long?”

Booker holds his phone in front of him, trying to figure out the time and what day it is.

“Give me a couple of hours.”

“Fine. You remember how to get to my place?”

“How could I forget?” Booker responds dryly and he’s only slightly disappointed when Copley doesn’t say anything back. 

“Do you need anything? Money?”

Booker swallows at the softness in Copley’s voice. They’ve always had a friendly enough relationship, one doesn’t get to the point of asking someone to help you end it all without being somewhat close. They always understood each other in that regard.

“That’s the last thing I need. I’ll see you tonight.”

Booker hangs up before Copley can say anything and he smiles as his email pings with a train ticket to London and a rental car reservation. 

He takes one last look at his shitty apartment and grabs the duffel bag he’s had packed since he first got to Paris. 

At the last minute he picks up the copy of Don Quixote that Andy gave him and shoves it into his bag before grabbing his keys and his current passport, a French one, for once. 

Something about being exiled for a hundred years makes him want to be sentimental. And drunk. But he figures he can drink on the train. 

In what feels like no time at all he’s pulling up to Copley’s weirdly modern house in the outskirts of London. Booker tries not to think about what Copley could possibly want, especially considering he dragged Booker to London for it. Before he even turns off the engine Copley is outside waiting for him. 

“You made it.”

“Very astute of you.”

Copley rolls his eyes and Booker follows Copley into his house, setting his bag down on the couch. 

“Gonna tell me why I’m here?”

“I need your help.”

“My help?” Booker asks as Copley hands him a glass of scotch. 

Booker looks around Copley’s office, weird detective board still firmly in place, and waits for Copley to answer. 

When it seems like Copley isn’t going to say anything anytime soon, Booker walks over to the board, heart clenching at seeing Andy’s, Nicky’s, and Joe’s faces reflected back at him.

“None of me?”

“You told me you were immortal. I didn’t really need to do any research on you.”

“Mmm.” Booker swirls the drink in his glass and smirks.

“Couldn’t figure out my real name could you?”

Copley smiles and Booker shakes his head as he laughs.

“You’re very good.”

“Oh, I know.”

Copley smirks at him and Booker feels himself relax for the first time in months.

“So, my help?”

“There’s a job.” Copley hands him an iPad and Booker looks it over. “Andy agreed, but I need supplies and I don’t want to put them on the radar of any of my contacts.”

Booker raises an eyebrow at that and he swears he can see regret in Copley’s eyes.

“Joe and Nicky can get them. They know who we used.”

“Joe and Nicky?”

“Just because they’re super old doesn’t mean they can’t use a computer.”

“But Andy?”

“Oh, yeah, Andy’s terrible.” Booker walks over to sit in one of the chairs as Copley takes the other. “But Joe and Nicky aren’t half bad and I’m sure Nile is even better.”

“Nile. A millennial she is.”

Booker laughs and hands back the iPad. “She giving you trouble?”

“She just wants to have social media, wants to see her family, the usual.”

“Well, Nicky and Joe have an Instagram.”

“They what?” Copley looks like his eyes are going to bug out of his head and Booker rolls his eyes as he opens his phone.

“Not in their names or anything. It’s one of those couple’s accounts. They never show their faces and Nicky thinks he’s funny, posting old photos of them, making people think it’s a filter instead of a yellowed Polaroid.”

“Jesus.”

“Just give Nile some ground rules.”

“And the family part?”

“Ah, yeah, I don’t know if I’m the best person to ask.”

“Why?”

Booker looks up at Copley and realizes he’s genuinely curious. Booker takes a moment to spin his wedding ring that he stills wears and notices Copley still wears his as well. It makes something clench in his chest that he can’t really describe.

“Nothing good will come from her seeing them.” Booker ends up saying quietly and Copley nods. 

Booker doesn’t know what to do with the look on Copley’s face. It’s not pity, or even understanding, but it’s something close, and that makes his heart hurt. 

“Here.” Booker emails Copley the contacts and supplies he’d use for this mission and he waits for Copley to read it before getting up to leave.

“Stay.” Copley says as Booker walks past him. “For dinner I mean, and you can go back to Paris tomorrow.”

“Dinner.” Booker says, even though he packed for at least a week, and doesn’t want to look too closely at why he doesn’t want to leave.

“You cook?” Copley jokes. “You’ve had what, two hundred years to learn?”

“Nice try.” Booker walks into the kitchen with Copley behind him and takes a seat at the bar as Copley pulls out some food.

“Are you ever going to tell me how old you are?” Copley asks as he cuts up some veggies for what looks like a stir fry. “None of you have, actually.”

Booker swallows roughly at the mention of everyone else and he wishes he refilled his scotch before coming out here. One appears in front of his view and Copley gives him a wry smile.

“We don’t really talk about these things.”

“What things?”

“You know.” Booker waves in the general direction of Copley’s office. “Immortality, with anyone who’s not…”

“Ah.” Copley nods and throws the veggies and chicken he pulled out of the fridge into a wok. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” Copley turns to look at Booker and Booker can’t explain it but he feels seen like he never has before. “Doesn’t that get lonely?”

“I think you know the answer to that already, James.”

Copley nods and they sit in companionable silence while the food cooks. Booker wishes he had more to say, but the sting of losing his friends, his family, sits heavy in his throat. 

There’s no Nicky to bet if Andy will guess all the flavors in the latest baklava. There’s no Joe to watch football with and cheer for any team who’s wearing the color green because ‘Nicolò’s eyes.’ There’s no Andy to…

He’s brought out of his musings by Copley’s shout. 

“They have almost a million followers!” 

Booker can’t help it, he throws his head back and laughs, really laughs, for the first time in months. 

~~~ 

Booker was supposed to go home the next day. But it’s been almost three weeks and he hasn’t left. 

It’s not that he wants to stay, that’s a lie, but Copley keeps asking for help on jobs or how to deal with the team and Booker, the martyr, can’t stop himself from asking for more information. 

It’s not like he can’t figure out where they are. He helped them disappear in the world for almost two hundred years, he knows how they operate, but that feels a little too invasive, even for him. 

“They want to take a break for a little while.” Copley sits down next to him with coffee and passes one to Booker.

That’s another thing. Booker isn’t drinking as much and his flask is in his bag. Copley brings him coffee, tea, water. Almost anytime Booker sees the man drinking something, he brings something for Booker, as well. Booker knows it’s a tactic to get him to stop drinking as much, but he finds that he doesn’t care. 

“They do that.”

Copley just looks at him and Booker is reminded of the CIA Agent he met nearly nine years prior. 

“When you’re as old…” Booker smiles at Copley’s look of interest. “Nice try. But breaks are good. And Nile is still new.”

“When will she stop being new?”

“When Andy thinks she’s ready.”

“For?”

“Honestly? Probably never now that Andy’s…”

“Mortal?”

Booker swallows and looks up at Copley. The storm brewing in his own eyes is met with a compassion he doesn’t deserve. He looks away before he does something ridiculous like cry but not soon enough for Copley to notice.

“Booker.”  Copley breathes deeply, almost like it pains him that Booker is hurting. “How long is your exile?”

“A hundred years.”

“A hundred years?”

“Yeah.” Booker doesn’t even realize he’s saying the next part until Copley’s gasp. “A third of my life.”

“A third? So you’re two hundred?”

Booker sighs and figures if the man is letting him live in his house then he might as well be honest with him. 

“I turned two hundred and fifty this past May.”

“Two hundred fifty…” Copley trails off with a look of concentration. “Seventeen seventy?”

“Got it in one.”

“Well, shit.”

Booker laughs at the look on Copley’s face. “You have a board of over a hundred and fifty years of photos of us and my actual age surprises you?”

“Well yeah, especially considering you’re the baby.”

“I am not the baby.” Booker glares at Copley without heat.

“Right. Right, it’s Nile. You’ve definitely got middle kid syndrome.”

“I resent that.”

Copley shrugs and it’s such an odd thing for him to do that Booker smiles. 

“Forty two.” Booker says unprompted. 

“Huh?”

“I’m forty two, give or take a few years.” 

Copley turns his head to the side like he’s studying Booker and likes what he finds. “I’m forty three.”

“I know.” 

Copley rolls his eyes. “So how did you die?”

“The first time?”

Copley nods and Booker thinks about telling him the glorified version of the truth or the actual truth and finds that he actually wants to tell him.

“Army deserter, fighting with Napoleon.”

“Huh?”

“What?” 

“Nothing, just don’t see you as an army guy.”

“It was the thing to do.”

Copley raises an eyebrow at him and Booker sighs. 

“Alright fine, I was a forger, got caught, sent to war…”

“Booker.”

Booker shakes his head. “It wasn’t the last time I saw my family, although...”

“Family?”

“Wife, three sons.” Booker spins his wedding ring, watching as Copley’s eyes follow the movement. 

“I never…”

“My youngest son died at forty two, cancer. I can still remember everything he said to me, screaming that I wouldn’t share my gift with him to help him.”

Booker startles as Copley’s hand comes down on top of his own, squeezing tightly. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Booker turns his hand over in a moment of bravery and squeezes back.

“I’m sorry, too.”

Copley sits back for a moment, seemingly contemplating something, then shakes his head as he gets up to grab a binder on his desk.

“What are you?” 

“Here.”

Copley places the binder down on the table and Booker looks at it like it might bite him.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

Booker opens it and sees pages of photos of himself. The photos that should be on the wall with the others.

“So you did have photos of me?”

“Just those and the few that are already on the wall. You’ve been with them a long time.”

“Not that long.”

“Longer than most people will ever get.”

Booker nods at that, thinking back to the time he had with his family, the time Copley had with his wife. It makes his heart hurt, when he thinks about everything he’s done.

“If I had your names I could find more.”

“Sébastien.”

“What?”

“My name, it’s Sébastien Le Livre.”

Copley smiles and the way it lights up his whole face is beautiful. The thought stops Booker’s heart for a moment, but then he lets it wash over him. For once, his attraction to someone else doesn’t feel like a betrayal.

“Booker makes sense now.” Copley smirks. “Although I think I like Sébastien better.”

Yeah, this man is going to be the death of him.

~~~

Booker should really admit that he’s not leaving Copley’s house. They’ve traveled to a few places and Booker’s taken a couple of solo jobs and gone to some of his safe houses to get some of his things but it’s been three months of him living with Copley and helping him with the team's jobs and he can feel himself slipping into a dangerous normalcy. 

You can also cut the tension between them with a knife. Booker doesn’t think he’s ever wanted someone as badly as he wants James Copley, but here he is three months into the first solid home he’s had in over two hundred years, and all he wants is Copley. 

Which is to say, he’s a little miserable. He can’t mess this up. He can’t mess up the one friendship that’s become as vital to him as breathing, he can’t mess up the chance to help his family, even if they don’t know it, and he can’t mess up the chance to spend at least some of his hundred year exile with this man. 

Booker’s trying to figure out how to at least see if Copley’s interested in maybe making their relationship something more when he hears a loud crash from the kitchen. 

“Shit.”

“You okay?” Booker looks around at the mess in the kitchen, a little shocked to see any part of the house in such disarray. 

“Yeah, sorry. I was looking for something.”

“What?”

“A cookbook. My wife’s.”

Booker’s heart seizes at the mention of Copley’s wife. It’s not that they haven’t talked about her, hell Booker’s seen more pictures of her than he’s ever seen of another person, but something twists in his gut, burning hot like jealousy, and he hates it. 

“What were you trying to cook?”

“Huh?” Copley’s looking around frantically and not really paying attention and Booker puts his hand on his arm to stop him.

“James.”

Copley looks at him and visibly relaxes as Booker bends down to look in the cabinet Copley was cleaning out. 

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

Booker finds what he thinks Copley is looking for and stands up to hand him a small book that has pretty cursive writing on the front.

“Here.”

Booker looks into Copley’s eyes as he takes the book. Their hands brush and Booker swears the butterflies he feels make him feel like a teenager again, which is honestly impressive. 

“Sébastien.” Copley says in his infuriatingly elegant accent and Booker feels himself moving closer, so close that he can feel Copley’s breath against his own lips. 

It only takes a second, and then Booker is surging forward and kissing Copley, who drops the book and wraps his hands around Booker’s waist. 

Booker reluctantly breaks the kiss when the need to breathe becomes too much. He looks into Copley’s eyes and is pleased to see a similar look of want reflected back at him. 

“What are we doing?” Copley whispers as Booker presses up against him and pushes them into the counter. 

“Whatever you want.” 

Copley takes that as an invitation and he surges forward, Booker grabbing onto his hips to stop the momentum as he feels Copley’s tongue seek entrance into his mouth.

Booker gets so lost in the kiss, so lost in pulling Copley’s shirt from his pants and undoing the buttons to his shirt that he’s pretty sure he’s never been kissed like this before, and that’s saying something. 

Before Booker gets what he really wants, which is Copley somewhere horizontal, Copley breaks the kiss with a shout.

“Shit.”

“What happened?” Booker’s looking frantically at Copley. “James!” 

“Cut myself.” Copley looks at him as he pulls his hand in front of him to show the bleeding the knife that was on the counter behind Booker caused. 

Booker helps him bring his hand under the water as he grabs a towel. As soon as the blood washes away Booker turns his hand over looking for the cut and doesn’t see any.

“Where’d you cut your hand?”

“I, I don’t know.” Copley’s looking at his hand like he’s never seen it before and Booker doesn’t think, he just grabs the knife and slices Copley’s hand again and then his own.

“Sébastien!”

“Just look.” Booker wipes the blood away from his own hand and Copley’s and places them next to each other as they watch both wounds heal. 

“Holy shit.”

“Does this mean?”

“I don’t know what it means. Usually a person has to die for us to figure it out.”

“Uhh, about that.”

“We can deal with this later?”

Booker leans in closer to Copley and kisses him again, magically healing immortal hands long forgotten.

~~~

Except, not so forgotten, when Copley shoots awake in the middle of the night, grabbing his head and nearly throwing Booker out of bed.

“James?” 

“Sorry, nightmare.” Copley looks over at him and then turns on the light and Booker can see the worry lines on his face.

“Tell me.” Booker says as he reaches up to cup Copley’s cheek as Copley leans into him. 

“It was nothing.” Copley shakes his head as he scoots closer to Booker. “The team.”

“What about the team?” 

“Nothing, probably just nerves for the next job.”

“James. Tell me what you saw.” 

Copley sighs as he lays back down and Booker hooks his leg over Copley’s as he waits for him to speak.

“I don’t want…”

“I’ll be fine.” Booker says as he leans in to kiss Copley. “Tell me.”

“Andy and Nile were training, Joe was sketching something and Nicky was cooking.” 

“Shit.” Booker lays back down and rubs his hands over his eyes. “We dream each other.”

“We?”

“When there’s a new immortal.”

“So you think?”

“I don’t know what to think. This hasn’t happened before.”

Booker looks over at Copley and sees that his eyes have gone wide and he has a panicked expression in his face. 

“Hey.” Booker turns on his side so he can pull Copley closer. “We’ll figure this out.”

Copley nods just as his phone starts ringing. They both jump at the noise as Copley shows him the caller is Andy. 

Booker tries not to listen but it’s kinda hard when he’s hugging Copley and he misses the sound of Andy’s voice.

“They’ll be here tomorrow.” Copley says as he drops his phone on the nightstand.

“Alright. I can get out of your hair.”

“What? Sébastien, no.”

“I’m not supposed to see them. Hell, I’m probably not supposed to even be speaking to you.”

“Sébastien.” Copley runs his fingers through Booker’s hair. “This is your home. I want you to be here.” 

Booker can’t help it, he kisses Copley like he’s never going to be able to again, as he reaches over and turns off the light. 

~~~ 

Morning comes all too soon and Booker hates it. This sanctuary he’s built, his home, according to James, is about to be overcome with people who hate him.

“I can meet them somewhere else.” Copley says as if he can read Booker’s mind. Wouldn’t that be something. 

“No. They’re probably almost here anyways.” Booker would know, as he broke his own vow and tracked them, just so he knew how much time he’d need to prepare.

“Do I even want to know?”

“No.” Booker smiles and Copley leans down to kiss him just as the doorbell rings. 

Booker holds tighter to his coffee cup as Copley lets them in and for the first time in almost a year he’s looking directly at Nile, Andy, Joe, and Nicky.

“Booker!” Nile says delightedly as she practically skips over to hug him. He sinks into the hug, grateful to at least not have burned this bridge.

“Hey, Nile.”

Nile pulls back and Booker looks over to Andy, who looks the same, if not well rested, and he hugs her, too.

“Book.” 

Book squeezes her again as he steps back. Booker looks at Joe and Nicky, who stand formidable and together but with their heads tilted to the side like they’re trying to figure something out. 

“Did you dream of Copley, too?” Nile asks him and before Booker or Copley can answer Andy gasps as she looks across the living room.

Everyone turns toward her and Booker instantly realizes what she’s looking at and so does Copley. It’s Booker’s copy of Don Quixote that Andy gifted him last year. 

But that’s not all, no, she’s going to notice Booker’s boots by the door, his laptop on the table, his sunglasses and motorcycle helmet on the shelf. It looks like he lives here, because he does. 

“You didn’t just get here today, did you?” Joe asks him as Andy looks at him smiling. 

“No.” Copley answers as he comes up to Booker and places a hand on the small of his back. 

Booker can’t help it, he leans into the touch and turns towards Copley to give him a small smile. 

Booker chances a look back at the others and feels warm at the sight of Nile, Andy, Joe, and Nicky all smiling at him. 

Nicky walks over to him and pulls both Booker and Copley into a quick hug. 

“It’s destiny.”

[adaodinson]

Would she?

Here´s the second part of Would she? I´ve had some free time and got the inspiration to write it. And one thing, I mention a movie called “Wolfwalkers” during the story, I highly recommend it, it´s a beautiful and artistic but deep animated movie.

Again, I´ll leave the translations to the Spanish words and phrases at the end of each phrase.

Relationship: Marcus Moreno x Fem Mexican reader (it is in English and most of the dialogues are too, her being Mexican is more about the story)

Summary: You are having dinner with the Morenos for the first time and a feeling of both nervousness and excitement covers both yours and Marcus´ body.

Warnings: Age gap, reader is Mexican, some swearing.

Part 2

Part 3

You woke up at the feeling of a small certain creature jumping to your stomach and purring softly. You blinked many times trying to get used to the light of the day and spotted your cat Wolfie staring at you. You turned around to see the time and as you saw your clock, you basically jumped out of bed scaring the living crap out of your cat. You weren´t used to the way your furniture was arranged in your new apartment, so it took a few more seconds than usual for you to find the bathroom.

-Shit, shit, shit- you said acknowledging it was 2 in the afternoon and realizing you wouldn´t have time to do everything you had planned to do. You had bumped into Missy for the second time yesterday and she had quickly told you dinner would be at 7 the next day, since earlier she hadn´t told you at what time you would be expected.

You had offered to bring dessert and you had planned making your famous chocolate chip cookies (famous between your family and friends, obviously) but you were waking up insanely late and still had to go out and buy all the ingredients. You hurried to the store and the second you got back home you started with the dough. While the cookies were in the oven, you went to your room to decide what you would wear. It was a simple dinner, you had no reason to be this nervous but you were. You cursed at the feeling that strange man caused on you and wondered how you would be able to make it through the whole dinner without imploding in your seat in front of the nice girl and handsome guy.

A pair of jeans, black boots, a white blouse with long sleeves and no shoulders and your favorite leather jacket. Simple but perfect. You looked in the mirror with satisfaction. Sure you had some insecurities about your body and face, but you were working very hard on loving yourself as you were, and with all honesty, you liked how you looked on that outfit. You got the cookies out of the oven and took a shower. Once you finished, you put on a light makeup and got dressed. It was 6o´clock and you only had to put the cookies in a plate and wait till it was time to go.

Marcus had woken up pretty early, he was a nerve rack not only because he would get to talk to you that same day, but because he had to make dinner himself and had no idea how he would pull that off without setting his house on fire or ending up ordering food and plating it to make it seem he had made it.

He decided he would try to make something simple so that he could put more effort into it: a pasta and some salad. How hard could it be? He had been stuck in his mind for so long he didn´t realize it was almost 3 and he still had to buy what he needed, so he asked Missy if she was decent enough to go to the supermarket and got ready to go.

She joked around reminding him all the things he had done in the kitchen that deserved their own TV show for how unique and disastrous they were.

-That time when you broke the whole carton of eggs in the sink instead of the bowl, or when you were making pasta but forgot the water so it got caught on fire. Oh or when instead of vinegar for the dressing you used vanilla- She said not being able to hold back the tears from how hard she was laughing-

-Ha ha ha ha you´re very funny. But really, I need your help, I don´t want to mess this up- He said as he pushed the car through the fruit aisle.

-I will help you, remember I like her too, I don´t want her to have to move again because her crazy neighbor made some pasta sauce explode on her- They both laughed all the way back to the car after buying everything. Rushing back to the house they started preparing everything.

They took turns so that one could be cooking and the other getting changed and ready. Things looked pretty good, nothing smelled weird, the kitchen was still standing, no vanilla and vinegar had been mixed up. Everything seemed perfect, almost too good to be true.

It was time, finally. You hugged your cat and asked him to wish you luck. He just lovingly stared at you and you took that as a good thing.

You were carrying the cookie plate and your bag while you locked the door behind you. You looked at both sides of the street before crossing and in a matter of seconds you were in front of the Moreno´s house. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door before your fear could stop you.

A shorter head peeked through the door as the owner of it opened it. Missy received you with a bright smile.

-Hi! Welcome- she said as she moved from the door to let you in.

-Hi Missy, how are you?- you said as you walked inside. It was a beautiful house, not too big but with enough room for two to three people. It was simply decorated but with a clear style and it smelled amazing.

-I´m good, thanks. This is my dad- She said as she pointed at the tall man standing next to you that for some reason you hadn´t seen. You looked at him and you swear you had to swallow a freaking moan from how gorgeous he was.

-Hello, I´m Marcus- he said as he extended his hand for you to shake.

-Hi Marcus- you said and then told him your name as you reached out for his hand.

-Welcome to the neighborhood and to our house- he said with a small chuckle. God, he swore you were glowing. You seemed so perfect, with your bright eyes and precious smile. He though your name suited you perfectly and he just couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

-Thank you so much for everything, it has been pretty hard for me to settle with the small amount of time I´ve lived here, but it´s amazing to know already I have such nice neighbors- you had no idea where that came form but you thanked your brain for coming up with it and your mouth for being able to say it so well.

Both looked at you with the same smile shining in their lips. They were so alike in certain ways.

They showed you around the first floor and then guided you to the dining room where the food was resting ready to be eaten. It all looked amazing.

-This smells amazing- you said happily.

-I hope you like it- Marcus said with a hint of fear in his tone.

-Be glad if you do- Missy said with a smirk and Marcus hit her playfully in the shoulder.

The three of you sat down and Marcus served all of you a generous portion of red pasta and salad. You stared down at your plate and smiled for yourself. You all started talking about your day as you tried the salad. Missy shared some stories of how Marcus had failed in the kitchen before and you shared crazy stories about your family. Like that one time when you got stuck at a parking place because your uncle that happened to be about ten blocks away had kept the car keys and the place was about to close; or that time when your parents were still dating (you weren´t born) and your mom drove you dad´s car into a pool by accident. As you told that last story Marcus laughed so hard some of his drink came out from his nose just like Violet in the Incredibles 2. Missy and you laughed so hard your stomaches ached.

It was time to try the pasta. Carefully, you used your fork to grab some of it and put it in your mouth. You had expected it to be an only tomato pasta, apparently it had peppers too, but since you were Mexican you were used to spicy and you loved it. You thought for a second you hadn´t told Missy where you came from, so you guessed they liked spicy too.

-JESUS NOOOOO WHAAAT- you jumped so high you almost saw the lamp that hanged from the celling in front of you. You looked at Missy who stood up from her seat and basically ran screaming through the kitchen looking for water.

Marcus´ face was covered in red and he looked at you with a strange look.

-You want milk for spicy sweetie! I´m so so so sorry, how are you not dying?- he asked looking at you. Okay now you were quite confused.

-What?- you said.

-Well the pasta, I mixed up some of the tomatoes with peppers and it´s spicy as hell. I´m used to spicy because of my mom but Missy isn´t- he stared down at you with a disappointed look in his face, but also a puzzled one. Why didn´t you react like Missy? Why didn’t you spit out the disgusting thing he had made?

-Marcus- you said with a soft chuckle- I´m Mexican, I adore spicy food and I´m used to eating it too, I loved the flavor of your pasta, it´s amazing. I didn’t tell Missy where I come from, so I assumed you guys liked spicy too and that had been why you made it like this. I honestly love this pasta.

Marcus looked at you and he swore he would never let you go, even if it was just as a friend, he wanted you around.

Without thinking and letting his arms move on their own, Marcus reached out for you and trapped you in a hug. He was as shocked as you were, but even more when you locked your arms on his shoulders hugging him back.

-¿Hablas en serio?- (Are you serious?) He asked softly wanting to know if what you were saying was true.

-Claro que hablo en serio- (Of course I´m serious) You answered quietly with a perfect Spanish pronunciation and a hint of laughter in your voice. You both stayed like that for what seemed forever until Missy came back and coughed softly.

-Are you done you fools? Or do you have another plan for almost killing me and then celebrating with a hug?- She asked with a serious look at first, but breaking into laughter at the middle of the sentence. The two of you split not daring to look at the other one because of the embarrassment.

-I´m gonna go get changed because I spilled half of the water I used before SOMEONE decided to tell me milk was better for spicy- she said as she walked upstairs.

You took another bite of your pasta and smiled at the memory it gave you about Mexico.

-So- you said swallowing what you were eating- Missy told me your job keeps you away from her a lot, what do you do?- you asked.

Marcus hadn’t thought about whether or not he would tell you about his job. He now knew you didn´t know anything about the Heroics because you weren´t from around, but he also knew you would eventually find out and, honestly, he preferred to be the one to answer all the questions you could have rather that you looking it up.

-I´m what we call a Heroic, I basically fight to defend people when needed- You did not see that one coming. Some people had mentioned the Heroics and you had seen things about them in the TV, but Marcus being one of them… it was AMAZING.

-WHAAAT YOU´RE A HEROIC?- that came out way louder than what you had planned. He smiled and nodded.

-So you´ve heard about us?-

-Well of course, but you´re one of them?!- that was too much for you, this man was perfect- So you have like a superpower or what?- You said expecting him to laugh and saying you were ridiculous.

-Yep, I can control metal, basically- he said amused at your reaction.

-WHAAAAT you mean like Magneto?!-

He laughed out loud at your comparison and with a gaze he invited you to lift your unused spoon for a demonstration. You did as he asked and with all the surprise of the world, you saw the utensil leave your hand and land on Marcus´.

-NOOOOOO THAT´S SO COOL- you said, and without thinking you stood from your seat, ran towards him and grabbed his hand to examine it. You both felt an electric current run through your fingers as you touched, but trying to ignore that, you carefully looked at each one of his fingers and traced them in a gentle way that made him melt.

He sat quietly and let you examine his hands. He was dying on the inside though. He was so amazed by your reaction and he even let himself run his eyes through you now that you were busy. He saw your hair falling at your side, it looked so soft he felt the need to touch it but held back. He ran his eyes through your back and landed his gaze on your ass for a few seconds but he scolded himself and looked away. He turned his gaze back at your head and to your face. You were looking at him as if he was the most amazing piece of art you had ever seen, and his heart sunk at the sight. He traced your nose and your rosy cheeks, then your lips and subconsciously he licked his.

Missy had been observing you two for about five minutes and was between amused and consumed by a tender feeling. You were going to have an amazing long-lasting friendship, or if life smiled at the three of you, a beautiful and romantic relationship that she had already decided she completely supported.

She decided it was time to interrupt though, she would offer you to watch a movie as you ate the cookies you had brought, and she did.

-Okay I´m sure there is a perfect explanation for why you guys are like that, but instead of giving me nervous unfinished sentences, let´s choose a movie to watch while we eat dessert- Marcus and you both stared into each other´s eyes for a few seconds with clear embarrassment and slowly walked away from each other. You were already missing the other´s touch.

You all finished eating dinner, and after washing the dishes you decided to watch a new movie that came out called “Wolfwalkers”.

-Oh my God, these are amazing- Marcus said with a pretty surprised look in his face as he tried one of your cookies.

-They really are, wow- Missy responded with the same surprise as her father.

-Thank you guys, I´m glad you liked them. I love making them so anytime you want some just call me-

-We don´t have your number- Missy said quickly before any of you changed the subject.

-Oh that´s right- you said as you took the piece of paper Missy was handing you and you wrote down your number. Missy gave a discreet wink to her father while you were focused on your task and he just smiled at his daughter.

The three of you sitting on the couch, eating cookies and crying over the beautiful movie after an afternoon of laughing and hugging. It was perfect. You were dying to know what your future with the Morenos would be like.

[stardust-walker]

High Hopes: Chapter 16

Previous Chapters:  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

word count: 4748

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Dove forced herself to eat as she avoided eye contact with most of the people around her. All she wanted to do was talk to Glenn, but he had sat himself at the kids table. Instead, she found herself sitting in between Rick and Carol. Her stomach turned at the mention of the dead man who had helped save Carl’s life. As Carol rose from her seat, Dove cleared her throat and patted her mouth with her napkin before she rose to her feet. “I think I’m gonna turn in for the night. Thank you for allowing us into your home, Hershel,” she kept her eyes down as she nodded towards the head of the table.

She didn’t wait before she hurried out of the house and onto the porch. It was peaceful outside as she waited for Carol to come out and join her. Her mind was still racing from earlier.  It made her nervous and, honestly, a little scared when she felt that amount of anger running through her. The cool night air hit her face and she focused on her breathing as the door opened behind her. She turned quickly to see T-Dog walk out of the front door with a hand raised. “Easy, crouching tiger,” he shut the door behind him as Dove snorted.

“You wanna try that again,” she raised an eyebrow at him as she reached into her pocket for a cigarette.

“Let’s have a seat. You look like you need to talk,” he tilted his head down towards the other end of the porch.

Dove rolled her eyes as she flicked her lighter. “I don’t…”

“You need to talk,” T-Dog cut her off before she could finish.

An exasperated sigh left her lips as she lit her cigarette and pushed off from the railing to follow the older man down to the rocking chair that Glenn had been sitting in previously. T-Dog motioned for her to take the chair but with a shake of her head, she boosted herself up onto the railing and took a seat. She took a drag and blew the smoke into the air as T-Dog spoke. “I think what you did today freaked some people out.”

“Listen, if you’re gonna really lecture me, even Rick didn’t try that,” Dove tapped some of the ash from her cigarette over the banister into the grass.

“This isn’t a lecture,” T-Dog shook his head and rubbed forehead before he continued. “But you freaking out on Andrea like that? What the hell was that about?”

“First of all, I think we’ve all wanted to punch Andrea in the face, okay.” Dove raised a hand in defense as she pulled her jacket tighter around herself. “I’m just the first female to get tired enough of her shit to do something about it,” she scoffed before she took another drag.

“We’ve also all wanted to shoot Dixon. In case I’m forgetting, you threatened him before too. I just wanna know what your deal is,” T-Dog stated simply and it made Dove pause. It definitely wasn’t anything like the lecture she’d been expecting and that threw her off. She stared at a spot on the siding above her friends head as she thought about what her friend had said. It wasn’t like she still didn’t feel the urge to slap the redneck silly when he decided to talk shit, but since Sophia went missing, it felt like life had went into a tailspin.

She waited quietly as a few others from their group filed out of the house before she answered. “I don’t know, okay? I think…I think I just thought about how he found a sign of Sophia and how if she’d killed him,” she took another deep drag of her cigarette and waited a few seconds before she exhaled. “We’d never find her because we’d never know where to go.” Her voice cracked as she looked down at her feet.

“Hey,” a voice broke the tension between the two friends as T-Dog turned quickly in his chair and Dove jumped slightly as she let out a small yelp. “Uh sorry, I thought you heard me come over,” Julian chuckled awkwardly as he rung his hands together. “I just um…I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” He looked between the two strangers.

“Nope, we’re good,” T-Dog smiled softly at Dove before she turned her attention back to the curly haired man.

“What do you need?” She asked quietly and received a startled look in response. “You came out here so you must need something,” she waved a hand at the younger man as she flashed him a small smile.

Julian cleared his throat, “Everyone’s starting to clean up and um…I guess Patricia’s a little nervous about going in to get your friends plate that your sister brought him and I couldn’t find anyone else, so…”

T-Dog looked away from the young man back to his friend. “She’ll do it. Seems like they’ve got some shit to talk about anyway.”

He placed a hand on her knee as Dove narrowed her eyes at him. “Great! Follow me, I’ll show you where he’s at.” Dove pursed her lips as she lowered her feet back to the porch.

Before she followed Julian she leaned in and whispered in T’s ear. “I’m so going to get you back for this,” she smiled as she patted his shoulder before she walked back through the front door of the house after Julian.

She spotted Hershel as she entered and it was clear that, in spite of all of his hospitality, the hospitality didn’t exactly extend to the interior of his home. Dove raised a hand in greeting as Julian jumped to her defense. “She’s just gonna get the plates from Daryl’s room. She’s spending the night outside, aren’t you?” He turned to her.

Dove nodded her head quickly, “Absolutely, sir. I’m very grateful for you allowing us onto your land, I wouldn’t want to be the one that makes us overstay our welcome.”

Hershel’s blue eyes narrowed slightly as he appeared to be deep in thought. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he nodded. “Alright. Don’t take too long, though. We all need to be getting enough rest.”

Julian nodded that he understood and touched Dove’s elbow before he pointed down a dimly lit hallway. “Right down there, miss. Third door on the left.” He smiled lightly before he quietly added. “Good luck.

~

It was dark in the room as Dove slowly pushed the door open. A few bites were taken out of the food, but it was untouched for the most part. She let out a deep sigh as she glanced from the tray of food to the man in the bed. His back was turned to her and the sheet was pulled up almost to his shoulders. She felt her breath catch in her throat as her eyes adjusted to the dark and she caught a glimpse of a scar on his back. The brunette placed a hand on the side table and she cringed as the fork clattered off of the plate and onto the tray.

“Hell you want,” a voice spoke almost instantly and Dove closed her eyes in frustration. She really didn’t want to have to talk to anyone else tonight. The young woman cursed herself for not just telling T-Dog to get off his ass and come in to get the damn tray himself. “Whatchu want?”

Dove’s eyes opened again as Daryl turned slowly onto his back . Dove swallowed hard before she answered. “I um…Julian sent me in to get the tray that Carol brought you.” She explained as she twiddled her thumbs for a moment. “Was something wrong with the food? You didn’t eat much,” she stated as she shifted her gaze back to the tray of food.

Daryl gritted his teeth as he tried to avoid pulling his stitches, “Nothin wrong with it. Just not real hungry.”

“Hershel gave you some of Merle’s pain meds, huh.” Dove shifted her gaze back to the man.

He nodded in the affirmative. “Heard you punched Andrea,” his voice was thick with sleep as he locked eyes with her for a moment. “Glenn told me.”

“Of course he did. Jesus, that guy gossips more than a woman does,” Dove rolled her eyes and drummed her fingers on the end table. “Yeah I did, she deserved it.”

Daryl grunted as he sat up slightly. “Shouldn’t have done that. She thought I was a walker, Rick told me. She was just tryin to protect the group.”

Dove sighed. “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s been pretty stressful lately so I wasn’t really thinking logically. Guess I’ve always just been very defensive of people that are kind of close to me.” Her hazel eyes drifted up to Daryl’s face.

There was a pause before Daryl shook his head. “We ain’t close.”

“You’re doing the most you can to help my sister and I look for Sophia. That makes us close,” she paused, “for now. Don’t get too used to it. Once we find her, we can go right back to you hating everyone in the group and me threatening you.” The corner of her mouth turned up into a small smile. It was quiet again. “She’s lucky I just punched her. I really laid into Ed the one time.”

“Yeah,” Daryl questioned with a grimace.

“Yep. He was trying to beat up Carol. She was pregnant with Sophia, I walked in, and he ended up with a concussion. I ended up with court ordered anger management to get out of assault charges,” she frowned. Dove cleared her throat and ran a hand through her hair. “Anyway, you should really get some sleep. You worked your ass off today; took an arrow and a bullet too. Let me help you,” she took a step closer to the bed and Daryl flinched backwards. Dove pulled her hand back.

“Don’t need your help,” Daryl grumbled as he turned slowly onto his side. Dove stood with her hands on her hips as she watched him struggle slightly. With a roll of her eyes, she stepped forward and reached a hand out to pull the blanket up further over his shoulders. Daryl’s shoulders tensed, only to relax after Dove pulled away. “Thanks.”

“No problem. You need more medication or anything? I can ask Hershel on my way out,” Dove stepped back as she turned to pick up the tray.

“I’m good,” Daryl mumbled. Dove paused again, hands on either side of the tray. She lowered her hands to her sides before she leaned over the bed. The brunette froze; it didn’t seem like either of them were breathing for a moment.

Dove leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to Daryl’s cheek. “Thank you for everything,” she mumbled as she turned quickly and picked up the tray.

“I got stitches,” she heard Daryl say as she exited the room and closed the door behind her. 

Dove kept her eyes on the ground as she walked back to the kitchen. “Here you go,” she said as she placed the tray on the kitchen table.

“Hell was she rushing around for,” Julian said as he watched Dove quickly retreat out of the house. He shook his head as he brought the tray over to the sink for Patricia.

“Probably doesn’t want to cause any more trouble for her group after today. Poor thing,” Patricia mused as she continued to wash the dishes. “Now you should head off to bed. Ya’ll got a busy day tomorrow if you’re still gonna be looking for that little girl.”

The door slammed open again as Maggie burst into the house. “Right. Night, Pat.” Julian hurried up the stairs after Maggie, leaving Patricia alone in the kitchen once again. Julian knocked on Maggie’s door quietly before opening. “Mags, what’s wrong? You alright?”

“He knows,” Maggie whispered in a panicked voice.

“Who knows what ,” Julian lowered his voice.

“Glenn. He saw the barn,” Maggie shook her head.

“Son of a bitch,” Julian hissed. And everything had just seemed to calm down between the two groups.

~

The next morning felt like groundhog day. Wake up, wash the laundry, hang the laundry, and wait around. Dove hummed to herself as she hung one of her shirts up to dry. “You seem better this morning,” Carol smiled. “Noticed you came into the tent late. Didn’t see you around camp either.”

Dove shrugged her shoulders, “Julian asked me to help him out. They needed help cleaning things around the house so. Figured it was the least I could do for almost causing a street fight ‘round here.” She chuckled as her gaze flickered to the house.

Carol followed her sister’s gaze, a sly look on her face. “Cleaning things?”

“Shut up,” Dove hissed through gritted teeth.

“How you feeling,” Carol called out as Daryl limped his way past them to his tent.

“Just peachy,” he grumbled but, much to the surprise of the two sisters, he smiled just a little before he was on his way again.

There was silence for a few seconds before Carol spoke again. “He smiled. You think that shot to the head gave him brain damage,” Carol asked. Dove let out a snort of laughter and shook her head.

She shoved a wet shirt into her older sister’s hands. “Don’t be such a brat.”

“Hey guys,” Glenn hurried over in their direction with a basket of fruit. Dove nodded in greeting as she kept hanging her clothes. “I brought you guys some fruit. I mean Maggie brought it to me but now I’m handing it out to everyone so….”

“I suspect this is you apologizing for telling Daryl my business yesterday,” Dove raised an eyebrow at Glenn. Carol pursed her lips as she kept at her chores. “That was a pretty shitty thing you did, Glenn. You should’ve let me tell him about it when I got a chance instead of making me sound like some sort of…some sort of…help me out here, Care.”

Carol spoke up from further down the line. “Heathen? Hooligan?”

Dove nodded. “Hooligan. I like that one. You should’ve let me tell him about it instead of making me sound like some sort of hooligan runnin around here raisin all types of hell.”

Glenn let out a heavy sigh, “Sorry! It just.”

“Slipped out,” Dove and Carol stated in unison with the young man. “Listen, Glenn. You’re like my best friend so I gotta tell you, you can’t keep secrets for shit.” Glenn’s expression softened slightly at this. “So I forgive you as long as there’s a nice juicy peach in there for me.”

Glenn nodded his head. “Right.” He began to rummage through the basket of fruit quickly as Andrea walked past them. “You gonna apologize,” he asked quietly as he handed Dove a peach

“And say what? Sorry I didn’t get to throw one more punch? Third times the charm?” Dove examined the peach as she spoke.

Carol accepted her own with a thanks. “Too soon, I think. But she’ll do it eventually.”

Dove bit into her peach and rolled her eyes, “Cool. Talk like I’m not here. Now go on, get. Before your girlfriend gets jealous that you’re giving all the girls her fruit.” She swatted playfully at the brim of Glenn’s hat.

Carol reached into the basket as Glenn began to make his way across camp again. Dove raised an eyebrow and Carol shrugged as she set the extra piece of fruit on the table behind them. “For Daryl,” she smirked slightly.

Dove rolled her eyes as she took another bite of her peach before returning to work. “Yeah, whatever.”

Julian sat in the rocking chair on the porch as he tried to relax. It seemed like every time he was able to stop his mind racing, his attention flickered back towards the barn. Neither of them had told anyone else about the barn or how someone in the new group had figured it out and it was starting to gnaw at his nerves. No matter what happened, it probably wouldn’t be good. If Glenn could just keep his mouth shut, maybe they’d be find. Best case scenario, they find Sophia and they leave without an incident. Worst case scenario, they all die.

A hand on his shoulder nearly made him jump out of his skin. Beth looked just as startled as he turned to face her. “Jeez, sorry! I thought you heard me ! I said your name and everything,” Beth smiled. “You alright? You and Maggie both seem kind of out of it this morning.”

Julian ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just…you think the barn’s gonna hold forever?” He made sure that his voice was quiet. He was almost sure that it was hard for Beth to make out what he was saying.

“I don’t see why not. No one’s gotten out yet,” Beth shrugged her thin shoulders. “‘Sides, it only has to hold until they find a cure or somethin. Daddy said it probably shouldn’t last too long now.”

“How does he know that,” Julian furrowed his brow. He trusted Hershel and guilt immediately washed over him for mentioning any doubt in the old man. He’d taken him in after everything went down. The only reason he’d come here is because of his sister but she didn’t even make it there.

Beth wrinkled her nose in concentration. “Well…how do you know that Mara’s still out there?”

Julian leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I guess…I can’t explain it. Just a feeling, I guess.”

“I think it’s the same for my daddy then. Just a feeling about it,” Beth stared out at the barn for a moment before she looked down at her shoes. “I’m sorry. I know you miss her. This whole thing sucks.” Julian let out a quiet laugh. Beth was such a good kid that even hearing her say the word ‘suck’ just didn’t sound right.

“That it does, Beth. But it’s all gonna be okay,” He turned his head to look back at the blonde girl before he forced a smile.

An excited smile crossed Beth’s face, “Oh! I almost forgot what I came to tell you! Daddy said I can do gun training today! He was real angry about it at first, but he said I could.” She looked so proud of herself that Julian couldn’t help but smile back, genuinely this time.

“Well now! That’s great, Bethy. Pretty soon, you’ll be like Rambo, huh,” he joked and Beth let out a little laugh. Julian decided that he was going to gun training. He hadn’t gone hunting in a few years and it couldn’t really hurt.

~

Dove knocked her knuckles on the tree next to the tent. “Did you really just do that,” Daryl’s voice rung out from inside the tent.

“I’m gonna take that question as a greeting and yes I did. Figured it was the polite thing to do,” Dove answered as she stepped into view. A hand was held behind her back as she wiped her other hand on the front of the black tank top she wore.

“What,” Daryl raised an eyebrow at her and stifled a laugh quickly as she moved her hand out from behind her back.

“Still feelin peachy,” Dove raised an eyebrow at him as he leaned forward and swiped the fruit from her.

Daryl examined the fruit for a moment. “The hell’d you get this from?”

“Glenn gave it to me. Well, Maggie gave it to Glenn who gave one to me and Carol who took one for you and it’s just not even worth explaining,” Dove waved a hand in the air.

“Nervous talker,” Daryl mumbled as he bit into the peach.

Dove stared with pursed lips as the man seemed to enjoy the fruit. “Yeah, real funny. Glad to see you’re feeling better,” she smiled a little as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Daryl shrugged his shoulders. “Good as I can be after taking an arrow and a bullet.” He wiped his mouth.

“Well, I just wanted to let you know. Shane’s holding up on his deal and givin everyone gun training today. “ She quirked an eyebrow. “Not that you need it, but I just figured you might need to watch out. If I can convince Carol to do it, she might be a force to be reckoned with.”

Daryl chuckled quietly, “I’ll believe it when I see it. If it still existed, I’d say take a picture for me.”

Dove laughed. “I’ll see what I can do for you,” she extended her arms to either side as she turned to head out.

~

Dove furrowed her brow as she focused on the target and pulled the trigger. She’d been at it for a half hour and she let out an excited yell before she turned her head. “Did you see that? I hit that!” She called back at Carol.

Carol nodded quickly and gave her a thumbs up. Dove peeked down the line, only to roll her eyes at the younger boy from Hershel’s camp. She couldn’t blame T-Dog for telling him off about the way he was holding his gun either. She rolled her hazel eyes as she heard Andrea say something about hitting her target. “Good job,” the person next to her spoke.

Dove turned her head as she watched Julian shoot yet another bottle. “Remind me again why you’re doing gun training with us? You don’t seem to need it.”

Julian shrugged his shoulders as he lowered his gun slightly. “I just needed a refresher, really. I used to hunt with my dad when we lived up north. Figured it couldn’t hurt.”

Dove shrugged her shoulders and raised her gun again, “Couldn’t hurt anyone unless you want it too I guess.” She pulled the trigger again and hit her target.

Julian heard Carl laughing and he looked over in that direction, “Nice shooting, buddy! I don’t think I could hit that from that far when I was your age.”

Rick laughed as he rustled his son’s hair.

Rick motioned for Carol to step forward and Dove stepped back to allow her sister to take her spot. Dove flashed her a big smile and a thumbs up as Carol cautiously took the gun from Rick’s hand. “I might not be very good at this,” Carol explained as she looked from the gun to the targets.

Dove smiled at the curly-haired man, “Ever think of being a motivational speaker,” she joked as she turned back to the targets.

Julian chuckled, “Just bein nice is all. You guys got a good group. That kids been through enough shit that he doesn’t need someone tellin him he can’t do something.”

Dove shrugged her shoulders. “Guess you’re right. Telling kids they can’t do something usually leads to them doing it.”

~

Something was wrong with Lori, that was pretty clear from the second they got back to camp. She was distant, she was sick, and Dove was worried. “You think she’s alright,” Dove frowned as she looked over towards Lori and Dale.

Carol shrugged her shoulders, “Not sure. She’s definitely been a little off the past few days; not that any of us have really been ourselves since Sophia went missing.” Carol picked at her food and Dove responded with a quiet grunt. “How are you doing with everything? Everyone keeps askin me, but I don’t see a lot of them checkin on you.” Carol observed with concern.

Dove cleared her throat and stood as she wiped her hands on the front of her pants. “I’m fine,” she mumbled as she stood to collect her laundry. It wasn’t the healthy thing to do, she knew that. Still, she felt terrible that anything happened in the first place. People didn’t need to worry about her, she could handle herself. Most things in life, she felt like she could expect now.

One thing she didn’t expect was the wrath of Maggie Greene when she and Glenn returned from their run. Dove liked Lori. Lori didn’t pry or ask too many questions, she just let people talk to her. Dove wasn’t ready to talk, so she tried to best to keep herself occupied with folding laundry when they returned. She raised a hand in greeting and almost immediately lowered it when Maggie came stomping over.

Hazel eyes locked on Glenn as he stood back, a look of shock on his face as he tried to stop the young woman. “We got your stuff,” Maggie shouted as she kept walking towards them in spite of Glenn’s attempts to stop her. Dove raised her eyebrows as she noticed Lori start to look around, suddenly very on edge.

“Come on in here,” Lori motioned for the two to follow her and Dove’s grip on the shirt she was folding tightened.

“Why? Nothing to hide, we got your special delivery right here,” Maggie shouted. “We got your lotion, got your conditioner, your soap opera digest.” Maggie continued to yell as she threw things on the ground. Dove just wanted to ground to open up and swallow her. “Next time you want something, get it your damn self.”

Dove’s eyes widened as Maggie bent down and scooped something up before she shoved it in Lori’s hands. “Here’s your damn abortion pills.” Suddenly, it made sense, How off Lori seemed. How she suddenly got sick at the smell of the cooking meat earlier. Lori was pregnant. Dove’s jaw dropped as she exchanged a worried look with Glenn before he ran off after Maggie.

It was silent for a few moments between the two women before Dove spoke up. “Lori. I….”

Lori shook her head and walked off into her tent with tears in her eyes. Dove waited a moment before she sighed, threw the shirt she was holding back in the pile, and went after the other woman. “Rick doesn’t know,” Lori ran a hand through her hair as Dove entered the tent after her. “I couldn’t tell him. Not yet. I don’t think I can do this. What kind of life is a baby gonna have in this world? “

Dove looked down at her boots before she took a few steps into the tent and knelt in front of Lori. She took a moment before she reached out and placed a hand on Lori’s knee. “Hey, it’s alright. I’m not gonna tell anyone.” She shook her head. “It’s your business to tell him.” Her gaze fell to the pills set on the table near Lori’s shaking hand. “I just wanted to tell you that…if you wanna talk about it, you know. I’m actually good at keeping secrets. It was kind of a big part of my job before.” She gave Lori’s arm a squeeze and Lori had a shaky smile on her face as she spoke again.

“Tell me the truth, do you think I’m terrible for even thinking about this?” Lori’s voice cracked,

Dove shook her head slowly, “No. I mean I don’t know if I’d ever be able to do it, but I understand where you’re coming from. I do. I won’t be the one to try to talk you out of or into doing anything. Just know that whatever you choose to do, you can talk to me. Carol too, if you want to. I’ll leave that part up to you.” The brunette froze for a moment, just a little bit shocked as Lori embraced her.

“Thank you. I feel so bad about Glenn and Maggie too,” she sniffled.

“Hey,” Dove pulled back and placed a hand on Lori’s shoulder. “You can talk to Glenn about that but I don’t see him as much of a grudge holder. Me, however, I’d probably lay you out like I did with Andrea.” Lori rolled her eyes at the poor excuse of a joke as Dove stood. “But I really think you should talk to Glenn. For someone young, he actually gives really good advice.” She shrugged her shoulders before she exited the tent.

Dove Sawyer did not envy Lori Grimes in the slightest bit in that moment. She would never want to be in the position that Lori was in at that moment, and maybe that was why she held back the question that gnawed at the back of her mind. Who exactly was that baby’s father.

--------

@crossbowking @momc95 @chaotic-gary-king-stan​

[pricemarshfield]

the darker side

A Deckerstar canon divergence fic, diverging after season 3. The sequel to can we surrender?. Chapter 7/10; blood of the convenant. Read on AO3 here, or the full fic here.

Dan barely manages to make it through ten seconds of explanation--a note in Ella's lab, Kinley spotted on one of the precinct's security feeds, some blood they're rushing through testing--before Charlotte's gotten the judge to call a recess and they're rushing out of the courtroom. Lucifer's eyes aren't bright red, but there's the slightest gleam to it that just doesn't look right.

"Dan, what does the note say?" Chloe asks. Lucifer's taking them farther away from the car, which Chloe would question if she didn't trust his reactions and opinions as much as she does.

"It says Uriel," Dan says, and when Chloe relays that to Lucifer, he closes up even further, expression as distant as it was back when they first met without the mask of amusement and debauchery for it to hide behind.

"I know where to go," Lucifer says. "Dete--Chloe. It's almost certainly a trap."

"Well, obviously," Chloe says. "But it's--Ella, I'm not exactly going to leave her with a murderous psychopath!"

Charlotte groans. "Ugh. Give me the address."

"Charlotte, much I appreciate your willingness to help Ella--"

"I'm not stepping into a deathtrap, thank you, but I can call backup. For Kinley at least, not your--you know."

Chloe shrugs. It can't hurt, probably. Lucifer recites an address off, some street Chloe's never heard of, and then holds his hands out for her to carry. Oh. They're off behind the courthouse, where there aren't any cameras or passersby, so she jumps into his arms and he brings out his wings.

Charlotte stares at him for a second before shaking off the trance. "Save Ella. And don't die." (In that order goes unspoken. Charlotte likes them all well enough, but Dan and Ella certainly take precedence for her.)

Flying is a unique experience. It's a little like riding a motorcycle (or sitting in a convertible that's going way, way too fast, she thinks wryly). The wind's cold and cutting but invigorating all-at-once, and while she knows they're going faster than a plane, Lucifer's arms are grounding enough that she doesn't feel unsafe. If she were just a bit braver, if the circumstances weren't so dire, she'd open her eyes to check out the view.

Lucifer sounds completely normal when he talks, as though the wind isn't affecting him at all. The closer she gets to him, the more she notices these little--quirks, the things that mark him as not-quite-human. "Pierce told me Michael had attempted to make a deal with him, but that he wasn't--and I'm quoting here, certainly not my personal opinion--that he wasn't stupid enough to do something that would harm someone he would feel guilty about."

"Ella," Chloe guesses, eyes still screwed shut. "What did the note mean? Uriel? Is that one of your brothers?" Lucifer's the only thing she's touching right now, and at every point of contact, he tenses. "We don't have to talk about it."

"He was," Lucifer says, and the wind stops all at once. Chloe opens just the one eye, sees that they've come to a stop in front of some old, abandoned church.

"I'm sorry," she says, because she's not sure what else there is to say. He lowers his arms, bringing her to the ground gently. She puts one hand to her hip; good, still armed. She gets the feeling she might need that.

Lucifer barks out a laugh, no humor in it at all. "Detective, I don't deserve your sympathies." Chloe frowns, immediately wanting to refute it, anxiety over Ella beating a too-quick rhythm in her chest. "Another time, then."

His eyes flare red, a grin she's never seen before on his face, not even when he had a blade to Pierce's throat. She should hate it.

But hey, going after Ella? Kinley's got it coming.

Lucifer walks in first, holding the door open for her. When he looks further in, the grin doesn't drop at all, but the line of his shoulders tenses even further. "Kinley."

"Is Chloe Decker with you?" asks Kinley. Lucifer's gaze flicks to her, which seems to be answer enough. "Excellent. Would you both come in, please?"

Chloe, safety already off, takes a few steps in. Ella's sitting in one of the pews, and Chloe can't see her face at all from the entryway. She can see the line of red dripping down her face, and if she couldn't see the gleam of silver in Kinley's hand, no amount of firearm safety training would have stopped her from shooting him.

Kinley doesn't look half as ready to fight as Lucifer, but Lucifer can't stop time, and Ella's so close to him. From a tactical standpoint, what they should be doing is trying to deescalate until a sniper can get a shot But no one will be here for awhile, even if Charlotte can convince someone to send as many cars as possible without any calls in or reasoning as to why. (Yeah, our criminal ex-lieutenant prayed to your consultant about it, so we can definitely trust that.)

"I want you to know," he says. "That I wish it hadn't come to this. Especially not for you." That last part is directed to Ella, who shudders just a little. There's a low growl in Lucifer's chest, distinctly inhuman, low enough that Chloe almost misses it. Kinley doesn't, standing further up. "And that I am doing this for the greater good."

"You're doing this because you're Michael's lapdog," Lucifer says.

Kinley nods enthusiastically. Jesus Christ. "What could be more for the greater good than enacting the will of heaven?"

"Hurting innocent people is the will of heaven? Believers, nonetheless?"

Kinley's arm doesn't shake, no doubt flickers across his face, but his tone isn't quite so firm. "To stop further evil from being unleashed upon the world? Yes. My life--a hundred lives!--would be worth that."

"Oh, zealots," Lucifer says. "There'll be so much to work with in Hell for you."

Chloe's gut twists at that, but she's sure to keep her face calm. It's not as though he doesn't deserve it, right? "Look, we're here. Let Ella go."

"Not until I explain," Kinley says. "There is a prophecy--"

"A prophecy?" Ella says with a little laugh, startling Chloe. Her voice is weak, thready, and Chloe hopes Charlotte had the good sense to call EMS, too. "Something else I don't know about?" What? "I don't..."

Her voice trails off, and Lucifer exchanges a worried glance with Chloe. It's a strange look with his eyes still bright red.

"Yes, Ella," says Kinley, and God, this would be awful for Chloe, hearing someone take that kindly, helpful tone in this context, but Ella--in a church, held at knifepoint by a priest? Jesus. "When the Devil walks the Earth--"

Lucifer starts to inch closer, silent and subtle enough that Chloe wouldn't notice at all if she weren't standing so close to him. Now, with Kinley's focus on Ella, he doesn't seem to be at all aware. Chloe wants to run forwards herself, but she's not half as quiet, and she can do more from a distance with this firearm than worth risking the liability of being in knife range.

"--and finds his first love, evil shall be released," he finishes, tone imbuing it with the weight of all his convictions. "So you see why I had to intervene!"

"And I assure you," Lucifer says. "That Miss Lopez has nothing to do with any of that kind of love whatsoever."

"Of course not!" Kinley says. "But I needed you both here. I needed--you to understand, Chloe. That Lucifer cannot be here. That the balance of the world itself depends on it."

Chloe couldn't give less of a shit about the balance of the world right now, especially when Lucifer doesn't look any more nervous at the mention of it than he does at Ella's fucking kidnapping. "We're here now," she tries. "Let her go."

"And let Lucifer fly you both away?" Kinley shakes his head. "I'm sorry. He needs to return to Hell."

Lucifer doesn't laugh or make any other snarky comment, which is a testament to the danger he must feel. "And why not have Michael attempt to take me there himself? Have his wings failed as well?"

"How dare you disrespect--"

Kinley rears back, just enough that the knife isn't so close to Ella, and Chloe takes the shot, hitting him in the meat of his shoulder--it'll disable the arm, hurt like hell, push him back enough for Lucifer to move, quicker than the eye can see, and shove him against the wall, stone cracking with the force of it. Ella throws her hands over her head, but gets up when Chloe yells for her to run.

"How dare I?" Lucifer says, voice low enough that it shouldn't be carrying all the way to the other end of the church like this. "You kidnap and hurt an innocent here, of all places, and you think my father would want anything to do with this?"

"I'm--" Kinley's voice barely carries, sounds choked. "I--"

"Lucifer," Chloe says, putting the safety back on. "This isn't--"

"This is, Detective," Lucifer snarls. "According to this vile waste of oxygen, I'm the evil that's waiting to be released anyway, so why not direct it at someone truly worth of Hell?"

His skin cracks, Kinley's face lit up with firelight from Lucifer's devil face emerging. Chloe's heart thuds heavy in her chest, but she forces herself through it. This is Lucifer, it's fine, if she self-actualized her rage right now she's sure she wouldn't look pretty too. Ella bolts out the door behind her--one long cut on her forehead, bleeding a lot but that's normal for face wounds, doesn't look too deep, a black eye. She still doesn't hear sirens, doesn't see red and blue flashing lights coming to the rescue.

Just her, the Devil, and a man who might honestly be worthy of hell. But they can't--she can't work like that. He has to be proven guilty--it's not like they don't have the evidence for it, especially with Ella's testimony--in a court of law, and then he'll serve his sentence.

As for after that sentence ends--well, then it's Hell's business.

"We don't even know if that prophecy means anything," Chloe tries, and Kinley drops, just a little, Lucifer loosening his grip, not dropping him entirely. The sound of Kinley's rattling breath is not as reassuring as it should be. "And how would killing him do anything but prove him right? Besides, we need to know how he found out about this, and how Michael got involved." Lucifer's still for a long, difficult moment, Kinley's inhales still labored. But then he drops him, the priest collapsing to the floor, unable to support his own weight. Chloe exhales. "Okay. Okay."

Lucifer's face is his own, expression dark but eyes--well, also dark, actually, no longer glowing red. The beginnings of a bruise are already forming around Kinley's throat, and Chloe--can't bring herself to care too much.

"You should check on Miss Lopez," Lucifer says after a long beat. "I swear I won't harm Kinley physically until you return."

Chloe, halfway out the door of the church, pauses. "Or harm him in other ways, right?"

Lucifer doesn't say anything.

"Lucifer."

"Fine, full Hippocratic oath standards," he says, petulant like a kid who just got told he couldn't get an extra candy bar at the store. The corner of her mouth quirks up in a smile involuntarily; it's a ridiculous situation, but Lucifer's never anyone but himself, and that's reassuring in its own way.

Outside the front door of the church, the California air's hot like  a hairdryer against the face. LA isn't usually too bad, but she's dressed for court, not being in the middle of nowhere, LA County. "Ella?"

"Here," she hears, in the shakiest, least-cheerful she's ever heard Ella. It sounds like it's from the other side of the church, probably where the shadow is, and Chloe heads over, sits down by Ella, who's hunched in the ground holding her knees, looking younger than Chloe can remember.

"Hey," Chloe says, gently putting a hand on Ella's shoulder, and Ella leans into her. There's tear tracks on her face. "Are you okay?"

"Definitely!" Ella says, though the hitch in her breath isn't exactly convincing. Chloe shifts the hand on her shoulder to around both her shoulders, tugging her in closer. "What's a killer priest working with an archangel! Who my grandma has a little statue of! By the way! It doesn't look like him at all!"

Chloe waits. Sometimes the best thing to do after a traumatic situation is to just let them talk it out. Granted, none of her handbooks or training have advice on this specific situation, but she's used to trusting her gut in situations like this, anyway, and she's not sure what she'd say.

"And--I don't--I thought he'd be like Amenadiel, you know? Sort of, like, wow! That's an angel! But he just--talked? And he doesn't act like Lucifer at all, and his power is--God."

"Lucifer told me Michael's power is fear," Chloe says quietly.

Ella tenses further. "And you didn't want to share that with me?"

"I--"

"I mean, what else are you keeping from me?" Ella pushes her away, glaring. "If you didn't think it was important to mention that--"

"Ella, I really didn't realize we hadn't," Chloe tries, hands up in a conciliatory gesture. Ella looks pissed; it's not something she'd ever expected to see, let alone directed at her. "I'm sorry."

Ella holds the glare for a beat longer before she relaxes, tearing up again. "Sorry. I just--sorry. He was just talking, I don't know what's gotten into me."

"Hey, don't beat yourself up," Chloe says, holding up her arms again. Ella leans right into the hug this time. (Damn, she gives great hugs.) "We're up against people who can get in our head, it's not your fault that they managed to for a second."

"Right, yeah," Ella says. "Stupid. Sorry."

"Not stupid," Chloe says. "Seriously."

Backup arrives, finally, and Chloe waves at them from the shadow. Someone brings over a shock blanket that Ella wraps around her shoulders right away before her nose wrinkles and she says, "Way too hot for this, actually, but can I get some water?" The unis, most of whom know Ella by reputation if not personally, oblige as quickly as they can. Kinley gets brought out in handcuffs, and Chloe's arm tightens around Ella. He doesn't look over once. He doesn't look insane like Jimmy Barnes either, but she hadn't expected Lucifer to break his word.

"We should probably get you to the hospital," Chloe says after the car with Kinley pulls away.

"It's a face wound, they just bleed a lot," Ella mumbles.

"Okay, and if I was the one who went through something this rough and had a head wound, you would say--?"

Ella groans. "I mean, of course I'd already be halfway to the hospital with you in my passenger seat. Fiiiine." She's not quite back to herself--her smile's weak and her stance is shaky--but the glimpse of normal Ella makes Chloe's grin back entirely genuine.

Lucifer doesn't lie, which means that Chloe's gotta be thinking about how to explain how they got here even as she helps Ella to another one of the cars. Dan's tip? There's no way they'd make it this far from the courthouse without Lucifer's wings. A C.O? (She thinks about Diana, who was found in a place as out-of-the-way as this, and the stab of guilt isn't easier the seventieth time around.) There's still the possibility that people will ask questions, but Ella's testimony should help their case. It's not as though they actually did anything wrong.

Lucifer steps out of the church, entirely confident as though he hadn't just almost crushed a man's windpipe with a single hand. Something in Chloe's gut twists, just a little, and she berates herself for it as she walks over to him. It's not his fault he had to rule over Hell for thousands upon thousands of years, and she'd had her moments of wanting a quicker justice than the courts, too. (She'd pointed a gun at her dad's killer, and known how easy it would be to pull the trigger even if it weren't for Maze and Lucifer both egging her on.)

"I see you kept your word," Chloe says, thankful that it comes out teasing and not relieved.

"Always," he says, offense probably only half-played up, and she takes his hand. He squeezes it once, as if to ground himself. She smiles, and squeezes back. "Is there a place we can duck out of sight of all the unis? Just for a moment?"

"Lucifer, I've told you, not at crime sce--"

"Give me some credit," he says, though the way he looks down at her shows it's not too far from his mind. "I wanted to explain who Uriel was."

Oh. She hadn't been expecting that for--honestly, months, if previous secrets are anything to go by. Her surprise has to show on her face, since Lucifer's expression shutters, and she starts to pull him back towards the shaded part of the church while the unis case the scene. "Sure. Let's go."

As soon as they're out of sight, she drops his hand, leans back against the wall, and asks, "So what happened?"

"Right," Lucifer says, and as he opens his mouth to say something, she hears the same voice call, "Detective!" from further away. Fuck, she should've been more careful, she's not--

Michael moves to grab her, and her gun would be useless against an angel even if she wasn't way too close. Still, she has to try, so she reaches for her holster, manages to get the gun out when Michael grabs her, tries to knock it out of her hand. Then she's flying, eyes squeezed shut, the invigorating air from before terrifying now that the person carrying her isn't safe.

But he's not quite so careful as Lucifer, and she manages to tuck it into the back of her pants without him noticing. She's not sure what good it'll do, but it's something. Hopefully he'll assume she did drop it, hopefully she makes him vulnerable too (gross, but would be very helpful), hopefully, hopefully, hopefully.

Lucifer, if you can hear me, she prays, and then there's an intense pain at the back of her head, and she falls unconscious.

[poisxnyouth]

hs!dave chapter 3 (d.d)

A/N: this would never be possible without @idkdobrik or @occasionally-angelic! bffs. love em. follow em. sorry this took so long. all 3 of us kind of have lives and all that. this took months. i hope u see why! let me know what you think, as always. would love if u sent me asks as you read (;

Word Count: 14,862

much love to ya

Everything had been resolved. You had given Nat an excuse as to why you and Dave had been cuddling on her couch - something about still being shaken up from the situation at the party and needing comfort. A video of the fight went around for a bit, rumors spreading about whatever was going on between you and David, but everyone forgot about it as soon as some guy from your history class got caught jerking off in the locker room. Everything had been swept under the rug, and no one suspected a thing.

 ++

 “Ilya’s not coming, but I brought Empire Strikes Back,” Dima announces, not bothering to say hello as he comes through Nat’s front door and kicks his shoes off. He notices you and David sitting on the couch whispering to each other, furrowing his eyebrows at the sight.

 “No, Dima! We are not watching Star Wars again!” Natalie shouts from the kitchen, opening a bag of popcorn and putting it in the microwave.  Her denial distracts Dima as you and Dave don’t respond to his arrival, whispers continuing. 

 “Fine! You pick, Nat,” Dima easily gives in, approaching her and dropping his voice. “Is it just me or are they acting really weird? Like, fucking weird.”

 Nat nods quickly, leaning back against the counter as she waits on the popcorn. “I was gonna ask you that too. Maybe they’re just getting close again? You know they’re like that. They get really far apart and then close again and it just happens over and over.” 

 “I mean, yeah, you're right. Maybe? It just seems different this time, I guess,” Dima shrugs his shoulders, eyes flickering between Natalie and you and David. 

 “I know, I agree. Have they done anything weird around you?” 

 “I mean,” Dima shrugs again, “You weren’t there, but a few weeks ago, at homecoming, they were all touchy in the corner against the wall.”

 “Touchy?” Nat questions as the microwave goes off, quickly opening it and removing the bag. 

 “Yeah, like, Y/N’s arms were around his neck and she kept pulling him closer and he let her. I honestly thought they were making out at first. They’ve just never been like that before. I thought it was just because she was drunk?” 

 “Nonono, you’re right. That next morning, after the party and after everything with Jordan happened, I came downstairs and they were cuddling on the couch. Like, passed out and all wrapped up in each other. It was weird as hell,” Natalie tears the bag of popcorn open and carefully dumps it into a bowl, “They said it was because she was super upset afterwards. I don’t doubt that part, it’s just unlike David to do that. Like, pretty sure he wouldn’t do that for me if I asked him to, you know?” 

 “Do you think something is going on between them?” Dima asks, still attempting to keep his voice low.

 “Ugh,” she scrunches her face up, “I hope not. That’d be so gross. And weird. I don’t think there’s anything, though.”

 Natalie shoves the bowl into Dima’s hands as she begins to make her way to one of her cabinets in the living room, eyes scanning through DVD’s as she picks a random rom-com. 

 “Jesus fucking Christ, Natalie,” Dima complains, “You traded Star Wars for Clueless?” 

 “Yes? David? Y/N? Do you care?” 

 You and David quickly mumble a no, not really and return to your whispers. 

 “Okay, then we’re starting,” Natalie ignores Dima’s sigh of disbelief as she pops the DVD into the player.

 “Wait, Nat. We’re gonna go for a smoke first,” David interrupts her, pushing himself off of the couch and grabbing his cigarettes from the side table. You follow him and mirror his actions, moving towards the front door. 

 “Fine, but don’t take a long time. I don’t know why you guys started that shit in the first place.” You both ignore her comment and go out front, quickly removing a cigarette from your respective packages. 

 David’s stare lingers for a few seconds as you prop your cigarette between your lips and light it, looking away as you catch him.

 “What was that look for?” 

 “It’s nothing,” he promises, lighting his own and puffing it. You don’t push it, falling into a comfortable silence for a minute before David leans down to attach your lips. 

 Cigarette still between your fingers, both hands come to his cheeks as you reciprocate his kisses.

 ++

 “Why aren’t they saying anything?” Dima complains in a whisper, ear pressed against Natalie’s front door. 

 “You’re wasting your time, Dima,” Natalie says, “They’re probably just close again. You’re being fucking creepy, stop it!” 

 “I just wanna know-”

 “Know what? If they’re hiding something from us, there’s probably a good reason behind it. Just wait it out. If there’s something going on, as weird as that’d be, they’ll tell us eventually.”

 “Fine, but I’m still keeping an eye out for weird shit,” Dima replies, moving from his knees back to his feet, “I hate this - it feels like they’re lying to us.”

 “Why? You don’t even know if anything’s actually happening.” He simply shrugs as you and David open the door and emerge, reeking of tobacco and tar as you place yourselves next to each other on Natalie’s loveseat. Natalie silently hits play on the DVD player as you and Dave pile up in blankets, leaning into opposite cushions to seem as far apart as possible. 

 You feel David’s hand creep over, fingers lacing with yours under the copious amount of layers. Neither of you say anything as the movie begins, elbows propped up on the arms of the couch, intertwined hands between you. 

 “Doesn’t she get with her step brother or something? That’s so fucking gross,” David gripes for everyone to hear, squeezing at your hand.

 “Ex-step brother, Dave,” you gently remind in a whisper, scooting closer to him.

 David's voice drops so only you can hear, “That's not much better, baby. Still gross.” The blush that comes to your cheeks is almost immediately clocked by Dima and Natalie, both of them sharing a quick look before returning their attention to the TV. 

 Dave continues making snarky comments for the majority of the movie before asking Natalie to pause it.

 “Why?”

 “I just - we need another smoke, okay?” The roll of Natalie’s eyes is obvious as you both stand, grabbing your cigarettes and, this time, moving towards her back door.  

 You both place yourselves on her lawn furniture, silently pulling the objects out of their packages and propping them between your lips. 

 You begin to flick your lighter before David makes a noise, shaking his head and taking it from you. His lit cigarette is dangling from the corner of his mouth as he flicks your lighter, lighting the stick for you. He drops your lighter back into your hand and takes his cigarette back between his two fingers. 

 “Pretty girls don’t light their own cigarettes,” he says quickly, meeting your eyes before bringing his back up to his lips. 

 “You’ve never done that before,” you question him, blush rising in your cheeks. 

 “I wasn’t fucking you before,” Dave explains nonchalantly between puffs, shaking his head slightly.

 “So shouldn’t it be hot girls? Not pretty girls? You don’t usually call girls you’re just fucking pretty.”

 David shrugs slightly, “Why does it matter if you’re both? Which one would you rather be?”

 You go silent for a few seconds, mulling over your response, “...Pretty.” 

 “Why?” 

 “‘Cause you’re the only guy who’s ever called me that. Besides, like, my dad.” 

 He gapes slightly, shaking his head, “Jesus. What kind of guys have you been dating?” 

 “Shitty ones, I guess.”

 “No shit. You’ve always been beautiful, you should be told that.” David meets your eyes again, free hand moving to the top of your thigh. 

 “You’ve always thought that?” You ask, cheeks becoming redder and redder the more he continues. Your hand comes to rest over his, quickly moving to lace your fingers together.

 “Yeah, I just - I never said it ‘cause I thought it was weird. I wish I had, though.” David leans back in his seat, bringing your intertwined hands up and kissing the back of it before gently dropping them back into his lap. 

 “I wish you’d taken my virginity,” you say, squeezing his hand and maintaining eye contact.

 Your confession makes his eyes widen, “Why? I took your first kiss freshman year, isn’t that enough?” 

 You shrug, “Exactly! It was perfect. You’ve always treated me so much better than anybody else. Like...always. Why did we never do this before? It would’ve saved me so much hurt.” 

 David finishes his cigarette, stamping the butt into Natalie’s parents’ ashtray and sinking slightly into his seat. 

 “I don’t know if I would’ve done it before, baby,” he admits. 

 “Why not?”

 “I didn’t know then what I know now.”

 “So you only did it because you felt bad for me?” You hastily pull your hand out of his, putting out your cigarette. 

 “What? No, of course not-”

 “If this is just a pity fuck, then forget it.” You rise to your feet and move towards the door, David grabbing your wrist and forcing you to turn back to him. 

 “It’s not a pity fuck,” you look at him uncertainly, “Just hear me out, baby, okay? Sit down.”

 He takes one of your cigarettes from the pack and hands it to you, taking the liberty to light it once you’re sat beside him again. 

 “Before...you never told me anything. I didn’t know anything other than what people told me or rumors I heard, and you played it off so well. I didn’t think you were a slut or anything, but I didn’t know how these guys were treating you. I thought you were into it. It’s not about pity. You should be treated the way you deserve, and if I can do that for you, then great.” You sigh, your cigarette shaking as your hand trembles. David puts his hand on top of yours, making you look up at him. 

 “I just want you to see what you’re worth. When I look at you, I don’t just see something I wanna fuck. You’re my best friend, baby. I’m more interested in that.”

 You don’t say anything, bringing the menthol back up to your lips and looking away from him.

 “You know this is so much more than a pity fuck,” he adds, “You know I care about you, so why won’t you let me in?”

 You glance at him briefly before looking back at your hands, watching the end of your cigarette burn. 

 “I'm fucking scared, David,” you admit in a whisper, eyes welling up with tears. 

 “Hey, are you guys gonna be any longer?” Natalie steps out, slightly annoyed. Her face drops when you turn and her eyes land on you.

 “Are you okay?”

 “Just keep going without us, Nat, we’ll be back in a few,” David speaks up, careful not to answer for you.

 “Y/N…” She ignores his plead, looking at you for confirmation. 

 “I’m fine, Natalie,” you feign, wiping away your tears with your free hand. “You and Dima keep going. Please.”

 Natalie doesn’t answer, warily nodding her head and retreating inside.

 David waits until the door clicks shut to resume your conversation, taking your hand in his once more, “Why are you scared? It’s just me, baby.”

 “I’ve never had this before, Dave! Even if this is just platonic, I’ve never had a guy treat me this way before. I don’t know how to handle it.” You nervously bring the cigarette to your lips, inhaling deeply before releasing the smoke.

 “Just let me do this for you. Please, babe. You don’t have to ‘handle’ it at all,” his free hand flies up, quickly creating air quotes before coming back down, “I just want you to see yourself the way I see you. Or even the way Nat sees you. Like what I said before, if this,” he motions between you, “what’s going on between us, helps with that? Even just a little bit? It’s worth it to me.”

 “I just don’t want to fuck this up for myself-”

 “You won’t! Don’t worry about that shit - I’m not leaving you, okay? I love you so much. If you want me to stop, I will; if you want to stop all of this between us, we can; whatever you want. Do not think I’m sitting here with you out of pity. Ever.” David’s fingers reach for your cigarette, plucking it from your hold and taking a drag. 

 He exhales, still holding the object between his thumb and forefinger, making a face at the taste. “God, I forgot how terrible menthol is. Take this shit back.” 

 You stifle a giggle, taking it from him and wiping your tears. He leans over and presses a soft kiss to your cheek as your fingers brush, moving over slightly to attach your mouths. 

 He kisses you slowly, still tasting the menthol on your lips and gently pulling away. Faces still close and hands still intertwined, David breaks, “I love you, baby. As friends.” 

 You can barely murmur an agreement before he's beginning again, “I love you, but I need to get this fucking taste out of my mouth before I kiss you again. How do you smoke these?” He’s playfully griping in hopes of making you feel better, reaching for his cigarettes - a pack of Reds. Dave’s hand briefly leaves yours to pull a stick from the package and place it between his lips, left hand cupping around the lighter as his right hand flicks it. He holds the flame for a few seconds, watching it burn before stopping it, tossing the box and lighter onto the side table. 

 His hand immediately returns to yours as he takes a deep drag, exhaling slowly. “You’d tell me if I’m doing something wrong, right?” 

 “Yeah. Of course.” David nods solemnly at your response, goofy facade fading as he slinks backwards into his seat, pulling you with him. At second thought, he unlinks your hands, arm draping around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You rest your head on his shoulder, free hand moving to rest on his chest, watching it fall gently with each exhale. You feel his heart beating gently under your fingertips as you move up slightly, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek and mumbling a Thank you, David, I love you. You feel him nod slightly as he continues working on finishing his cigarette, murmuring a quiet You’re welcome. I love you, too.

 “And you know I’d do anything for you?” Dave questions a minute later, normal speaking voice this time, clearing his throat slightly and rolling his cigarette between his fingers. You nod against him, fingertips digging into his chest slightly as you press your body closer into him.

 His hand falls to your waist, rubbing lightly and affectionately, “Good. Let’s go in.” He leans forward a bit, putting out his cigarette and beginning to rise to his feet. 

 You tug on him slightly once you stand, “Kiss me before we go?” David nods without a second thought, head dipping as both hands tangle in your hair, mouths attaching. You melt into the taste of his cigarettes as he breathes harshly, deepening the kiss for a few seconds before pulling away entirely. 

 He follows you inside of the house, immediately apologizing on your behalf to Natalie and Dima. 

 “It’s okay!” Natalie swears, “Are you guys still staying the night?” 

 Despite not glancing at each other, you and Dave share the same uneasy expression before Nat begs once more, “Come on! It’s never just us four anymore, and it’s one of the last nights of the break before school starts. It’ll be fun!”

 David is the first to accept, quickly saying, “Yeah, you’re right. We’ve gotta go get more smokes, though.” 

 Natalie quickly deflates before he adds, “We’ll be back in, like, an hour. Hour and a half at the most. I swear.”

 ++

 You and David walk silently from Natalie’s house down the block to his place for his car, hands intertwined and swinging slightly.

 It isn’t until you get in the car you begin to realize how cold it is outside, rubbing your hands up and down your arms to try and warm them up.

 “Hey, do you have a jacket or something? I forgot mine.” 

 “Yeah, there’s a hoodie in the backseat.” David starts the car as you reach into the back to grab the hoodie, pulling it on and slumping back into your seat. 

 “Why’d we leave if we don’t need cigarettes? We just got some this morning.”

 David shrugs, reaching over to grab your hand again once he’s pulled out of the driveway, “I know you wanted it to just be us for a while, so I got us out - especially since we’re staying the night now. Are you feeling any better?”

 You shrug slightly at the question, squeezing his hand, “Thanks.” 

 He nods, momentarily going silent to mull over his next words. He doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, aware of your fragile state.

 “Hey,” he squeezes your hand to get your attention once more, causing you to turn your head back to him, “I know what’ll make you feel better, baby.”

 You sigh, a frown evident on your face, “Dave, I’m really not in the mood to fuck right now-“

 “What? No, of course not,” he cuts you off, “That’s not what I was gonna say.”

 You look at him, waiting for him to tell you what he’s planning. He continues to drive silently, not elaborating. You don’t think twice about the route he’s taking until he’s pulling into the Wendy's parking lot.

 “Ice cream fixes everything.”

 He parks the car, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt and removing the keys from the ignition before hopping out. You roll your eyes at his movements, smile coming to your lips as you begin digging through your purse for your debit card. David takes the opportunity, while you’re idle, to move to the other side of the car, opening it for you. 

 He props himself against the door patiently before spotting the card in your hand, shaking his head, “Put your card away, I’m paying.”

 You roll your eyes once more as you get out, “I just got paid, David, it’s fine. I swear.”

 “And I’m getting paid tomorrow. Baby, I’ve got it. Seriously.”

 “I’m not letting you pay,” you insist as Dave moves off of the door, shutting it behind you.

 “Uh uh. No. It’s on me. I’m the guy!” He’s glued to his spot on the cement, fingers fiddling with the keys attached to his lanyard.

 “Guys only pay on dates!” You defend, hands going up in the air.

 “Then fuck it, this is a date!” He raises his voice slightly, hands mirroring yours as he steps closer, “Who gives a shit? Come on, baby. Just let me pay.”

 “Fine,” you give in, sighing and moving to put your card back in your purse, “It’s a date. You win.”

 “I loooove you,” he drags out, swinging his arm around your neck and pulling you into his side. His lips plant a quick, wet kiss to your cheek,  “As friends.” 

 You murmur a reciprocation before he drops his arm to open the restaurant door for you, free hand coming to your waist as he ushers you in. 

 You turn and stop in your tracks once you’re in, hand moving to rest his on his chest as you look up at him and meet his eyes, “Davey, baby, thank you. Seriously.” 

 David doesn’t think twice before murmuring a you’re welcome, beginning to lean in as his fingers come up to tilt your chin.

 “Oh, shit,” he exclaims, annoyed, eyes cutting to a table inside, “It’s Courtney.” He expects you to share his worry as he takes a step back, hand leaving you gently.

 “So? She’s with her parents,” You ask, apathetic, moving up on your toes in an attempt to lean in once more.

 “So?” He pushes you away softly, “She has a big mouth - you know that. I was about to kiss you, but she’ll tell everyone. She doesn’t know how to shut up.”

 You roll your eyes, crossing your arms and leaning against a window behind you. 

 “Shit, she’s coming over. Act normal. Thank fucking God she’s leaving.”

 “What’s normal?” You scoff slightly, quickly getting annoyed with his attempts to cover his tracks.

 “Act like we don’t fuck, dumbass,” he hisses quietly as she approaches, only for you to hear.

 Courtney’s crush on David is common knowledge, and for reasons unknown, the thought always gets under your skin. Nothing is wrong with her; she’s a pretty cheerleader with a squeaky clean reputation. You’re currently battling the spots for valedictorian and salutatorian with her, something she’s very serious (and bitchy) about. She’s occasionally rude to you, most likely because of your closeness with David and academic competition, but you don’t hold either of them against her. 

 “Hey David!” she grins, glancing at you over her shoulder, “Y/N.” 

 You nod at her with a tight lipped smile before her eyes drop to your torso, lip snarling up and eyebrows scrunching together.

 “Why are you wearing David’s sweater?”

 “I forgot my jacket,” you explain, arms still crossed, “Why are you wearing your uniform on Thanksgiving break? The season ended last week.” 

 Her jaw clenches and you can see David behind her attempting to not laugh, hand over his mouth. 

 “Anyways,” she turns back to David, ignoring your question, “My parents are out of town next weekend once we start school again. I'm having a party - Friday night, if you wanna come. It’s to celebrate the end of the season. You can bring someone.”

 David catches on to the exclusive invitation, immediately turning it on its head as he shrugs, “Sure. We’ll be there,” his head nodding towards you. Courtney’s head dips, faking a smile at you before waving goodbye to David, strutting out the door. You wait until it’s closed before turning back to him, removing your weight from the window.

 “God, she is so far up your ass-”

 “Shut up,” David cuts you off with a giggle, head dipping and lips attaching to yours. You feel his hands move to your waist as he slides his tongue gently against yours, smile coming to his lips a few seconds later as he leans out.

 “Go get a booth, baby. I’ll order.” 

 He walks over soon after you sit down, tray in hand. He slides it onto the table before placing himself in the seat across from you.

 “Did you ever fuck Courtney?” You casually ask, tossing a fry into your mouth. David nearly chokes at the question.

 “Ew, no, what the fuck? Why?” David shoos your hand away from his fries, “Hands off my fries. You know they’re for my frosty.”

 You and David always get opposite flavors, swapping halfway through. He dips his fries in them as he shovels spoonfuls of the ice cream in his mouth, plaguing whichever frosty he got first dibs on. 

 “I’m just wondering,” you shrug, reaching for the vanilla frosty and a spoon, removing it from the plastic, “Why not? She probably would, she’s super into you. She’s a cheerleader!”

 “She’s not my type and babe, she’s a flyer. She’s like, a hundred pounds. I’d split her in half,” David meets your eyes as he scoops a fry into the ice cream, shoving it into his mouth.

 “Yeah? What’s your type?” You slowly spoon it into your mouth, eyeing the quickly decreasing level of David’s frosty. 

 “You,” he says simply in between bites, “Your body’s a wet dream for every dude ever. You’re the reason I even have a type.”

 You blush slightly at the statement, “If I’m your type, then you’ve fucked other girls that look like me?”

 He scoffs lightly, shaking his head, “No. Not at all. People like you are hard to find, you know? In all aspects, not just how you look.” 

 Your head tilts slightly to the side, “You look for people like me?”

 “I mean. Yeah. You’re my girl, my favorite girl - always have been, whether you knew it or not. I’ve always looked for girls like you, you know? Like, in my head, they were always compared to you. Unfair for them, really. There’s no contest, they’re never gonna win. No one does when they’re up against you, especially not now. My love life will be royally fucked now. Are you done with your half?” You nod quickly, David’s spoon moving to his mouth and remaining as he swaps the cups between you.

 “Why?” Your eyes watch his lips as he removes the spoon from his mouth, placing it in the cup. You mirror his actions.

 “‘Cause, like, I don’t have feelings for you, right? Like, at all. But you’re still my, I dunno,” he absentmindedly swirls the melting ice cream with his spoon, attempting to pick the right words, “ideal girl, I guess? You’re the whole package to me - you’re smart, funny, you get good grades, you have goals for yourself, you always know what you want, you’re beautiful, sexy, you kick my ass in tennis, you can throw it back, and fuck, you give me that sloppy, sloppy, sloppy washing machine toppy I love so-.”

 “David! Shut up,” you laugh, “I love you, though. As friends.”

 He shakes his head at your giggles as he nearly finishes the frosty, “I love you, too. As friends. You’re my good girl, though. Most of the time. I love it.”

 You feel yourself melt at his words, “Thank you, baby.” He dips his head, nodding nonchalantly as he forces the last spoonful into his mouth. He tosses the empty cup and spoon onto the tray, hands idle in front of him, fidgety, as he waits for you.

 “I’ve been looking for a girlfriend,” David admits, “ever since we started this - so, for like a month now?”

 “You don’t like what we do?” You question him, tone light as your eyes remain on the cup in your hand. His statement hurts, oddly - you don’t know why, but part of you feels the need to fill the girlfriend-shaped hole in his life; almost like it has your name written all over it.

 “No, baby, I love it,” Dave says quickly, “Way too much. That’s why I’ve been looking, ‘cause I don’t wanna pin all of that on you. I mean, especially ‘cause we’re not gonna date, but I’m giving up on looking. I’m not gonna have any luck. Nobody is you. Like, I’d rather have this type of relationship with you than some half-assed shit with another girl when I’m not really into it and thinking about you the whole time, you know?”

 You shrug, meeting his eyes and finishing the ice cream, admitting, “I’d be open to try being with you. You never know what could happen.”

 He tuts, shaking his head softly, “I guess, I dunno. I just can’t really picture it. We’ve been friends forever, I wouldn’t wanna ruin that. Plus, the thought just makes me feel weird.”

 You shrug once more, making a noise of half-hearted agreement. You attempt to change the subject in hopes of him not hurting your feelings further, “Dave, question. Have you hooked up with anybody else since we’ve started?”

 “No, of course not. Didn’t you just hear me?” he jokes, “You’re my girl. You’re more than enough. You’re all I want. Why? Have you?”

 “No,” you say, shaking your head, “I don’t know if I can.”

 “Wait, what? What do you mean?” He watches as you fiddle with your fingers, refusing to meet his eyes. 

 “I just…I don’t know, Dave. You’ve helped me so much and I just can’t see myself going back to the same shitty football players. Not even just them, like, shitty guys in general. You’re right, you know? I need someone who’s gonna treat me well, and right now that’s you. I think it’s going to stay that way for a while.”

 You finally look up, meeting his eyes, once he reaches across the table, grabbing your hand. He quickly moves around the table to slide into your side of the booth, both hands gently sliding into your hair as he leans in, mouths softly attaching. 

 “That’s always gonna be me, though,” David whispers against your lips, forehead against yours while one hand moves to grip your chin, “I’m always gonna care. You deserve nothing less. I never wanna hurt you.” 

 His words dig the confusing knife a little deeper as your free hands come to his chest and you nod against him slightly.

 You murmur a wimpy, defeated I know before his lips are on yours once more. 

 He barely kisses you before he’s leaning out a few inches again, breaking, “I’ve actually helped you, then?”

 You nod, fingers tangling into his hoodie, breathing out, “Yes. So much.” 

 “Holy shit,” he whispers in disbelief, “That’s all I wanted. I love you. God, I love you so much.” He kisses you again, much deeper this time, fingers still grasping your chin before adding, “As friends.” 

 “As friends,” you quickly reaffirm, not entirely meaning the words as David continues his whispers.

 “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Like, earlier at Nat’s? When we were talking about it? It doesn’t matter, I just - wow. You’re my girl,” he says, meaning well, “You’re my girl, baby. Always. No matter what happens. There’s always gonna be me. I love you so much. Just - just let me in. You just have to talk to me.”

 You nod slightly in his hold, still gripping his hoodie tight, as he gently pulls away. 

 “Baby,” you whisper between kisses, “Can we, uh, go to the car?” He nods, both of you quickly getting out of the booth and leaving your garbage on the table, David dragging you out the door. 

 Your lips are on each other’s again as soon as you’re in the front seat of his car, leaning over the center console and tangling your fingers in his hair. His hands run down your sides quickly, moving to push your shirt up slightly and rest them on your lower back.

 “Fuck me, I love you,” he murmurs against your lips, adding a hasty, “Asfriendsthough.”

 You pull away in response to his words, forehead against his, suggesting in a whisper, “Backseat?”

 “I don’t have any condoms,” he leans out, sighing, “I ran out yesterday.”

 “Oh,” you frown, “okay. That’s fine, we can just make out.” 

 You lean in for a kiss again, hands on his chest. He kisses you for a few seconds before pulling away, seemingly bothered, offering, “I can eat you out?” 

 “No,” you resist in a whisper, forehead on his, “I wanted to feel you. It’s fine. Let’s just make out.” 

 Conversation purportedly over, you kiss him once more, fingers moving to grasp at his hoodie and pull him closer. He pulls away from your kiss quicker this time, causing you to roll your eyes in frustration. 

 “You’re on the pill, right?” 

 “David, you don’t have to. It's not a big deal, I know you don't want to-“

 “Answer the question, Y/N,” he cuts you off, voice stern, “Are you?”

 “Yeah, but-“

 “Get in the back.”

 You stay still for a moment, watching as he shuts the car off and tosses his keys in the cupholder, getting out of the car. 

 “David-“

 “Don’t make me tell you again,” he snaps, slamming the door. 

 You don’t argue further, climbing over the center console and falling on your back across the backseat as David climbs back in, shutting the door. He quickly settles on top of you, arms on either side of your head to hold himself up. He leans down to press a hasty, sloppy kiss to your lips, pulling away and sitting up, moving to tug off your shoes. 

 “David, really, you don’t have to-“

 “Stop talking.” 

 You bite your tongue to keep yourself quiet as he pulls your pants and your underwear off together, throwing them somewhere in the floorboards. 

 His strict demeanor fades the second he has his mouth back on you, eyes falling shut as he sighs into your kiss. 

 Your back arches into him, hands moving to his shoulders. 

 “Off,” David whispers, fingers reaching to tug at the hems of your shirt and hoodie, “Offoffoffoff. Please, baby. Off.” 

 He successfully pulls them off together, hands scrambling for your bra clasp, murmuring a quiet, “Let me see you, baby.” Although fumbling with the hooks and eyes, he undoes it, gently pushing the straps down the length of your arms and tossing it somewhere into the floorboards.

 “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to doing this with you,” he breathes out, “Or seeing these. Fuck. You’re so pretty.” David dips his head, mouth quickly moving to pay attention to both of your tits. 

 A few seconds later, he pushes himself back up onto his knees, eyes on you as he pulls his hoodie and shirt over his head. He flings both items onto the floor, forming a pile with your clothes and beginning to shove his boxers and sweatpants down his thighs. He spits into his hand, pumping himself a few times before hovering over you again and lining himself up. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek as he pushes in, lips moving down your jaw and neck.

 He only pushes in halfway before stopping, head dropping to your chest. David holds himself up above you, weight on both hands resting on each side of your head.

 “Oh, God,” he whimpers, “Oh, fuck.”

 You try to buck your hips up further into him, hand on the nape of his neck. He refuses, moving to rest his weight on one arm so his hand can come to your waist to halt your movements. His fingers dig into your skin, hissing a harsh, “Stop it.”

 “Are you okay?”

 “You’re so wet, fuck. You feel so fucking good - I can't.”

 Carefully, he pushes in the rest of the way, letting out a low groan. He starts moving agonizingly slow after a brief pause, worried he’ll cum too quickly - worried he’ll cum before you.

 “IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou,” he whispers repeatedly, leaving soft kisses across your shoulders and brushing the hair out of your face. There's a pause between you, David breathing heavily before adding the dreaded, “As friends.” He plants a gentle, loving kiss to your cheek before he begins to speed up his hips slightly, still somewhat slow.

 He continues, steady hips accompanying soft touches and kisses before his hands and lips momentarily leave you. He gently pulls out, causing you to whine and begin bucking up your hips.

 David leans down as you whine his name and tug at him, fingers running lovingly through your hair. His head drops, lips wetly planting to your forehead in a sloppy, affectionate kiss. 

 “Shhh,” he hushes, “It’s okay, baby. Just gimme a sec.” 

 You meet his eyes and respond, voice small, “...Okay.”

 He leans over the center console and you watch as his hand lands on his pack of Marlboros.

 “Baby,” you say, hands on his chest as he leans over, “Grab my pack too?” 

 Wordlessly, Dave does, plucking it from the cup holder also occupied with his car keys. He’s doing some extra digging around, taking too long and restraining you from easing your libido.

 You whine once more, hands still on his chest, “Hurry up, Davey, please. I need you right now.” 

 “I know, honey. I’m sorry,” he apologizes, free hand delicately lacing with yours, “I need a minute. I can’t find a lighter.”

 His actions speed up at your words, quickly locating a Bic and returning to you. Before doing anything else, he untangles your hands and positions himself at your entrance, pushing back in and groaning lowly at the sensation. David pulls a cigarette from each package and hands you yours, fingers brushing gently. You both prop your respective cigarettes between your lips as he leans down, flicking the lighter so the ends of the sticks light simultaneously. 

 You meet each other's eyes as he does so, staring deeply before he releases the flame and pulls away, placing the lighter down along with your packs of cigarettes.

 You watch David as he puffs it, stick between his fingers and free hand resting on your stomach. You eye his lips, exhaling the smoke in your lungs as he does. 

 “I love you,” you say, placing your cigarette between your lips and taking a drag as you reach for his hand. 

 Dave’s hips begin moving slowly again, squeezing your hand reassuringly, “As friends?”

 You nod, exhaling the smoke before he leans down to attach your lips, the tastes of bitter tobacco and menthol mixing against your tongues. He murmurs a reciprocation before pulling away from the kiss, faces still close as his eyes scan over your face.

 “You’re so beautiful,” he compliments in a whisper, squeezing your hand once more before letting go, “I mean it. You’re perfect.” 

 His hand now comes to your cheek, meeting your eyes before leaning back up and sticking his cigarette back between his lips. 

 You notice David’s halfway through it now as he continues to steadily move his hips and takes a drag.

 “When you’re done,” you break, trailing off, “with the cigarette…”

 “Yeah?” The smoke from both of you swirls around the car, windows now foggy, as Dave’s hand gently moves from your cheek to the base of your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, soft palms and rough fingers simply resting there as he meets your eyes again, almost concerned.

 “Put it out on me,” you breathe out, free hand moving to reach for his forearm in front of you, “Please, David. Put it out on me. Please.” 

 His hips stop their movements, David’s voice going soft, “What? Baby, no.” 

 “Davey,” you whine, “Come on. Please, baby. Just do it. I want it.”

 “No,” he still resists, “I don’t wanna hurt you - or scar you. No. I’m not doing that.” 

 “David,” you push, still begging, “Please. I don’t care. I wanna remember this with you.”

 He pauses, exhaling slightly, “...Where?”

 Your fingers dig deeper into his forearm at the words, “Anywhere. Please, Davey, baby. Put it out on me.”

 “Cum for me first,” he says, “Can you do that for me, honey? By the time I finish it?”

 You nod quickly at his request, staring into his eyes as his hips speed up.

 “Well?” He asks, tutting softly, “Babygirl, I’m not doing it. This is on you.”

 You realize what he’s saying, placing your cigarette between your lips. You take one last drag before moving to roll his window down to toss it out, David’s gentle hand suddenly pushing you down by your neck.

 “What are you doing?” His eyes scan over your features, slightly concerned.

 “Throwing it out?” 

 “Give it to me, baby. I’ll do it,” Dave says, quickly putting his cigarette between his lips and moving to roll the window down. He does, removing the cigarette from your fingers and tossing it. 

 “Fuck, Dave, it’s cold,” you complain, his hand still resting at the base of your throat as he rolls the window back up. 

 He doesn’t comment, taking a drag from his cigarette and removing it, hips still moving. Your hand moves down to touch yourself, free hand gripping his forearm as he fucks into you. 

 You whine, back arching against him and legs spreading wider. 

 “I love you,” David says between puffs, “As friends.” 

 You simply nod at his statement, hand working faster against yourself as you eye the tip of his cigarette. 

 Cigarette now propped between his lips, David quickly gets nervous as the signs of your impending orgasm become painstakingly obvious. 

 “I’m gonna cum,” he admits in a grunt, taking the stick between his fingers again, “You want me to pull out?” 

 “Nononononono. Please no,” you beg, legs tightening around him, “Inside of me. Please, Davey. Cum with me. Together.”

 He nods slightly, “Do you need me to count, baby?” 

 “Yes, please.” 

 He begins counting down from ten, feeling your nails dig deeper into his forearm the closer he gets to zero. He watches your face intently as it twists up and you gasp beneath him, quickly leaning down to kiss you before pulling away.

 All at once, his hips are stilling as you cum simultaneously, David’s fingers nervously fumbling as he pushes the tip of the lit cigarette into the top of your thigh. 

 You shriek as he spins the stick and pushes it deeper into your skin, tears slipping out of your eyes. You reach for his hand still holding you down, David denying your request in order to allow him to stop his pain inducing movements. He quickly reaches to roll the window down once more, tossing the cigarette out and rolling the glass back up. 

 Dave immediately reaches for your hand, squeezing and pressing a kiss to your cheek, breaking, “Please don’t make me do that again.” 

 He delicately moves his hips, pulling out gently and groaning at the sight of your pussy. 

 “Oh, fuck me,” David exclaims, letting go of your hand and moving to spread your legs, head between your knees. “Spread them for me, baby. Oh, God.”

 Your burn still pulsating, he seemingly forgets momentarily about the harm he had just caused as he swipes his fingers through the mess dripping out of you. Dave pushes his wet fingers past his lips, meeting your eyes as he sucks the remnants of himself off.

 His hand moves to your stomach, resting delicately before his voice breaks with a vile request, “Push it out for me, honey.” 

 David’s eyes now trained on your pussy once more, you moan slightly, trying your best to not think about the stinging burn and gently push his cum out. 

 “Oh, fuck,” he breathes, fingers reaching to spread your pussy apart, still watching, “Jesus Christ. You’re gonna ruin me.”

 “I can’t look at it anymore,” David says, moving from between your legs, “If I do, I’m gonna get hard again. Fuck me, baby. I’m not gonna wear a condom with you anymore. Not when I know I can see that on the regular.”

 David slides you over slightly, settling against the door and pulling you to lay against him, back pressed to his chest. He drags his fingertips across your stomach softly, lovingly kissing the side of your head as you rest it back against his shoulder. 

 You break the silence as he traces patterns into your skin, “Davey, baby, can I ask you something?” He simply hums in response, waiting for you to continue. 

 “How many people did you fuck before me? Like, what’s your body count?”

 “What?” He asks, voice soft and taken aback by your question, not expecting you to be so forward. 

 “I’m just curious.”

 He sighs, continuing to move his fingers across your skin. For a moment, you think he’s going to ignore the question completely. 

 “Two other girls. So...my body count is three.”

 “Have you ever fucked any of my friends?”

 “Where is this coming from, baby? You know you have nothing to worry about. I’m all yours.”

 You shrug in his hold, attempting to ignore the meaning behind his words. You move your head and look up at him as best as you can, hands moving to lace over his.

 “I don’t know,” you admit, pausing slightly as David plants a quick, doting kiss to your cheek, “I just realized you know about pretty much everyone I’ve been with, you know? I don’t know the same for you.”

 He’s silent again for a moment, searching your eyes for any sign of lying - any possible sign of it being a trick question; however, he knows it’s not. 

 “I haven’t exactly, um, slept with one of your friends...”

 You furrow your eyebrows, looking at him in confusion and gripping his hands tighter. 

 “What do you mean?”

 “Remember how I said I fucked someone at the tennis camp we went to?” David faces you forward again, head resting on your shoulder.

 You nod in response as he pulls you closer and wraps his arms around you, fingers still intertwined.

 “Well…” he trails, voice going soft, nearly hesitant, “Remember your roommate?”

 Your eyes widen at the realization, “Holy shit. You fucked her?”

 He nods against you before you turn to look him over, his face giving you an impression of his regret. 

 You can’t help but laugh slightly until you realize something, “Oh my God, David, was I in the room? Please tell me I wasn’t.”

 “Maybe...” he admits half-heartedly, voice going up an octave.

 “David!” You sit up, quickly untangling your hands and smacking his chest. 

 “You were sleeping!” He offers, attempting to grab your hands once more.

 “No! Gross! Ugh, ew! Why?” You deny his tries and turn in his lap to face him, arms draped around his shoulders.

 “Baby, that’s not fair! I've fucked you on Natalie’s couch while she was upstairs, a few times now, but I fuck a girl in the bunk below you and you freak out?” He teases as his hands land on your waist, thumbs rubbing slightly, “If it makes you feel any better, honey, I wish I’d fucked you instead. I think I might've crawled into the wrong bunk?”

 “I think you might have. But don’t change the subject! That’s so different,” you whine slightly, moving to lay on top of him completely. Your bare chest presses against his, legs tangling together. 

 “Hm,” David hums questioningly, “How so?”

 “She’s not me.”

 David laughs, head leaning down to kiss you, “True. So, it’s only okay for us to pull that shit?”

 “It’s our thing,” you mumble, faces close, “Nobody else’s. You can only sneak around with me.”

 “Mm,” he agrees, “I’m okay with that.”

 You leave one last kiss on the corner of his mouth before dropping your head to his chest, his hands tangling in your hair. 

 “So...your virginity?” 

 “You know it was Sami, baby,” David answers, fingers moving from your hair to your spine, rubbing gently.

 “Yeah, but...our first time you didn't fuck like you barely had experience. And if you’ve only fucked two girls before me…”

 He pulls you closer before clearing his throat, breaking, “Sami and I fucked around for a while last year. Friends with benefits, I guess. I don't know, we just hooked up a lot, but she got clingy and irritating.”

 “What do you mean clingy?” You ask, feeling the doting touches of his hands - rough, calloused fingertips from God-knows-what accompanied by soft palms. 

 “I think,” David pauses, knuckles running gently down your spine, “I think she had feelings for me, I guess. Like, every time after we fucked, she wanted me to hold her. It was so annoying; I just wanted to go home. I didn’t wanna spend any more time with her than I had to.” 

 “But,” you say, contradicting him, “You hold me after every time we fuck?”

 “Yeah, but that’s different,” he shrugs slightly, “You’re my girl. You’re on my mind all day long, of course I’m gonna hold you. It was never fun with her like it is with you.” 

 “All day long?” you ask, not believing his words, “What?” 

 “Every second of every day,” he admits, moving to bend his head down to kiss your shoulder, “Hard not to think about you. I can never get enough.” 

 “Oh,” you say, looking up and meeting his eyes. You change the subject slightly in an attempt to distract yourself from dissecting his statements, “So...you guys...weren’t...like us? At all?” 

 He tuts, shaking his head as his fingers tangle in your hair once more, “No way. This is so much better. I only thought it was good because I hadn’t fucked anyone else.”

 “I’m not asking because I’m jealous-”

 “I know,” he interrupts, “I’m just saying. Nothing’s ever gonna compare to sharing this with you.” 

 You try your best to ignore his statement, asking, “So you guys never dated?” 

 “You know the answer to that, baby,” he mumbles, leaning to press a kiss to your forehead, “I haven’t dated anyone.”

 “I was just asking,” you explain, “People date in secret all the time. You never know.” 

 “I know,” David says, trying to move the subject matter away from him, “I think it’s kind of dumb, like, what’s the big deal? Why stay secret? You should just tell people. Like, I get if you’re just fucking and you don’t want to tell anyone, but dating? It doesn’t make any sense to me.” 

 You shrug, not commenting on the topic further, “Why don’t you just date Sami if you thought she liked you?”

 “Why would I do that to myself when I have this right in front of me?” he asks, “I don't want to talk about her anymore, baby, can we change the subject?”

 “I mean,” you stutter slightly, “Yeah, of course, but why?”

 “I just feel like,” David pauses, mulling over his next words, “Unless they hurt either of us, I don't really care about the people we’ve been with before this happened. Like, we have each other now, you know? We don't have to worry about anything. I don’t want anyone else…,” he trails, turning to meet your eyes, “Do you?”

 “No,” you say, almost too quickly, “Of course not. I’m yours. You’re the only one I think of.”  

 He presses a kiss to your forehead, “Good, but don’t forget I’m yours, too. All yours. This isn’t one sided, honey.” 

 You nod slowly, going quiet for a few seconds before you decide to change the subject, eyes still on his, “Don’t beat yourself up about not dating anybody, Dave. It’s not about you. You’d be a really good boyfriend.” 

 He gently tugs you closer, eyes on yours, “You really think so?”

 “Yeah. You’re the best guy I know,” you admit, feeling David melt slightly at your words. You switch positions again, your head on his chest, not meeting his eyes.

 “I want a girlfriend so bad,” he complains, “I’ve always wanted to, I dunno, write a girl love notes? Like, every day, you know? Or those random texts out of nowhere telling her I love her? And bring her coffee every morning? It’s all in the little stuff. I love it.” 

 “You don’t even drink coffee, though?”

 “I know,” he mumbles, “But I’d still learn how she takes it.” 

 “You’re so cute,” you admit, quickly attempting to correct yourself as David’s hands halt their gentle movements at your words, “That’s so cute. You’re so soft! Who would’ve known?” 

 “Shut up,” he laughs lightly, trying to brush off your previous statement, “Don’t tell anyone that. It’s embarrassing.” 

 “No, it’s not!”

 “Whatever,” he shrugs, going quiet, “It is to me.” 

 You drop it for his sake, changing the topic, “Did you fuck Sami like you fuck me? Is that why you’re so good at it?”

 “Baby-”

 “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

 David tuts, fingers resuming their gentle strokes along your back, “It’s fine. No. I didn’t. I’ve only done this with you. I’m good at it with you because I know how you work, I guess.”

 “‘I know how you work,’” you mock, “How?”

 “I can just read you really easily. I know what you like, I guess, like it’s the back of my hand. It’s easy with you. I don’t feel like I’m trying too hard.”

 You simply nod at his explanation, going quiet and beginning to listen to his heartbeat.

 “Davey?” You break a minute later, voice soft, arms moving to wrap around his neck. 

 “Hm?”

 “My thigh hurts. Like, the burn?”

 Forgetting about the burn until you mention it, he curses under his breath, helping you sit up. 

 “We have to go back to Nat’s and clean it. Fuck, you should’ve said something before!”

 “Not yet, I was just saying…” you say, pushing him back down, “A little longer? This is nice…”

 “Are you sure?” David asks, eyes scanning over your face worriedly, “The burn scares me, baby. I don’t wanna risk anyth-”

 “Just hold me,” you beg, arms wrapping around his torso, “We aren’t alone like this together enough. It’s always so rushed.” 

 Hesitantly, he agrees, “You’re right. Okay. Just let me know when you’re ready, babe. Nat and Dima are waiting on us.” 

 “They can wait,” you say, “We need this.”

 “Mm,” he hums and pulls you closer, sweaty skin sticking together, “We do. I love you.” 

 “I love you too,” you reciprocate, “Kiss me, Davey, baby. Please.” David tips your head up by your chin, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. Your lips attach gently, eyes fluttering closed as you feel his free hand tangle in your hair.

 You kiss slowly for a few seconds before David pulls away slightly, lips millimeters apart, “As friends.”

 You barely nod against him in response before attaching your mouths once more, attempting to push your thoughts away from his dreaded statement. David pulls away as your eyes begin welling up with tears, still holding your chin as his eyes drop, looking over your face.

 He doesn't notice the tears before you place your head in his neck, holding him close to your body as you shut your eyes, breathing deeply. You attempt to refocus your thoughts, paying close attention to attempt mirroring David’s breathing patterns. 

 A few minutes later, David breaks, clearing his throat softly, “Is this what you think pity feels like?” 

 “What?” you ask, voice soft, “No?” 

 He takes one of your hands, sliding it over his chest, fingers lacing together, “Good, ‘cause it’s not. This is love.” 

 You go quiet at his words, not saying anything, before he speaks again, “Do you need me to show you?”

 “What do you mean?”

 “Um…” he pauses, shifting, “Look at me.” 

 You do, tears now subsided, David gently grabbing your chin once more as he looks into your eyes. 

 His gaze drops to your lips, eyes lidded, “This…” 

 He pauses, leaning in slightly, lips nearly attaching as his breathing staggers, “Is love.” 

 You breathe in sharply before he kisses you gently; a short kiss, but enough.

 Dave’s eyes remain on you, staring adoringly as you look up at him, “What we have is real.”

 Hands still intertwined, he undoes them, moving his palm to cover the top of your hand. He places your palm over his heart, holding it there as you feel his heartbeat. 

 “This is real,” he continues, hand leaving yours to rest on your heart, “You feel it too. I know you do.” 

 David pauses, upholding his gaze and focusing on the consistent thumps under his finger tips, voice soft, “Tell me you feel it too?”

 “You just said-”

 “Yeah, but baby, I wanna hear you say it,” he says quickly, rushing it out, “Tell me you feel this; that it’s not just me; that this is love. Tell me it’s not just me.”

 “What do you- um,” you stutter, mind blanking, “What do you feel?”

 “This,” he says vaguely, quickly finding his words and continuing, “You know it feels different than when we first started this. It feels like we’re a package deal now; I never want to be away from you. I never would’ve thought we’d end up here - together, nonetheless. Please, baby, tell me you feel it too. I don’t wanna be alone in this. Something is different, right?” 

 “...Feelings?” you question timidly, doing your best to refrain from giving yourself false hope.

 “Yes, feelings,” he says, “But not feelings. Not in that way. I just mean...I love you as friends, but this, between us, is hitting me so differently now. Please say it back.”

 “I feel it too, David,” you comply, “It is different.”

 “So I’m not crazy?” 

 “No, you’re not crazy,” you confirm, feeling his heart speed up, “What do you mean it’s hitting you differently now?”

 “Like,” Dave searches for his words, eyes glued on yours, “I’m getting really possessive over you. It’s been building up, but like, it feels like I don’t want another guy to touch you or anything at all. I know I shouldn't be getting jealous ‘cause we’re not like that, but-”

 “You can get jealous,” you say, wanting him to claim you as his own, “Can I get jealous?” 

 A smile plays at his lips at your words, “If I can get jealous, I don’t see why you can’t.”

 “I can’t imagine you being jealous,” you say, “At all.” 

 “Just wait,” David promises, “You’ll be able to tell. The worst part is I can’t do anything about it. Not in front of anyone, anyway.” 

 “I mean, you could...,” you trail off, “It’d be pretty hot.” 

 David dips his head to kiss you deeply, your hands still over each other’s hearts, “You don’t want me to, I promise. It pisses me off; I want every guy to know you're mine.” 

 “So it’s every guy?”

 “Yes. Almost every guy.” 

 “Dima? Ilya?” 

 David shakes his head slightly, “No, they’re cool. Maybe Ilya a little bit, but only ‘cause I know he’d be down to fuck you. Dima, Alex, Mike, John, all of them, though? They’re fine. It’s just everyone else I have an issue with…But really, though, baby, you don't wanna see me jealous. I turn into a real asshole.”

 “You're always an asshole,” you joke, sliding your hand up from his chest to the side of his neck and into his hair.

 “Not with you,” he promises, voice suddenly soft as his hand moves from your chest to your waist, rubbing softly, “Never with you.” 

 “I know,” you confirm, going quiet for a few seconds, “Can you keep going about what we were talking about?” 

 “About this being love?”

 You nod at his question, “And tell me what love is.” 

 David moves, murmuring a quiet “Come here, baby,” and sitting up against his car door, pulling you into his bare lap. You settle, legs on either side of his body, arms draping around his shoulders. 

 “I think,” he begins slowly, the last -ck syllable catching in his throat as his hands slide delicately up your back, “Everything me and you do together, now, at least, has love in it. Everything we do is love. If I can't go a few minutes without thinking of you? I dunno, I’d call that love.”

 “I know - um,” David continues, stuttering slightly, “I need a cigarette. Hold on. You want one?” You shrug, nodding your head and gripping his shoulders as he leans over slightly, removing his hands from you. You watch his fingers as he delicately pulls one from each package and grabs the Bic. He turns back to you, passing you the stick and watching as you place it between your lips, waiting.

 Cigarette propped between his lips haphazardly, Dave’s thumb pushes against the spark wheel of the lighter repeatedly until a flame results. 

 You meet his eyes as you let him light the end of your cigarette, David breaking the silence, “Pretty girls don’t light their own cigs. I’m gonna say it every time.” 

 Your only response is a blush as he quickly lights his cigarette, tossing the lighter to the side. It lands on top of your clothes, his free hand coming to your waist. 

 He takes a drag, exhaling to the side before continuing his statement, “Now, I know,” he cuts himself off, sighing slightly, “I know that I, um, haven’t really been with anyone - like, I haven’t dated anyone, right? - but I just feel like...Well, I guess you could use that to say I don’t know what I’m talking about, which I don’t, not really-”

 “Spit it out, Davey,” you say, quietly smoking and listening as he speaks, “It’s okay. Just tell me what you're thinking.”

 “Okay,” he agrees, taking another quick drag, “I know I haven’t dated anyone, or been in love or any of that, but I’m just saying, baby...When I think about love,” he pauses slightly, “This is exactly what I picture, you know? Us. The shit that we do. I can’t - I can’t picture wanting to be this way with anyone else. You’re my girl. Like, of course I can’t really picture us being together together, but still...This is love. I know it is. Honestly, there’s no way it isn’t.”

 David goes quiet, free hand gently running over your body, and you begin to realize how much you hate the way he’s making you feel. He makes your heart swell with every ‘I love you,’ only for his addition of ‘as friends’ to rip it out. You’re not even sure how to feel. No matter how sweet he thinks he’s being, the more he attempts to explain his feelings, he’s only digging the knife in deeper. You want to tell him to stop, or kiss him just to get him to shut up - but David’s twisting the knife now as he pulls his fingers through the knots in your hair, uttering another soft spoken I love you that you know he doesn’t mean in its entirety.

 You lift your head and plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth, telling him you think it’s time to go back. He shakes his head, his hold on you tightening as he demands, “Say it back.”

 You stare at him blankly, not entirely sure you want to say it back, but his eyes have softened and he looks wounded - almost as if he were the one being toyed with. You say it, meaning every word, because you know you can’t say no to him. 

 “This is love,” he says slowly as some sort of gentle reminder, fingertips running delicately down your spine, “I don't want to feel this with anyone else.” 

 He pauses, cigarette between his fingers, “Tell me I’m the only one...I know I am, I just want to hear you say it.”

 You dread saying it again, because it means you're forced to admit it to yourself once more, but you still do it, telling him, “You're the only one.”

 You finish your cigarette, quickly moving to roll down the window behind David and toss it out. He turns, taking one last drag before throwing his cigarette out and rolling up the window.

 “I know you were talking about me earlier,” you say, forcing yourself to continue because it seems like David needs it, “Um, and I wanted to tell you that nobody’s gonna compare to you, either. I can’t think of anyone else. I don't want to.”

 “I don’t want you to, either,” he says, hand coming to your cheek, “You’re mine, and I’m yours.” 

 “Um, yeah,” you say, agreeing with him, “You’re mine, I’m yours…But really, Davey, baby, I mean it. You’ve changed everything for me. I’d do this forever with you, I love it so much. It just feels so...right.”

 “It feels like we should’ve done this forever ago,” he says, “I know I said I didn’t know if I would have, but…if I knew I’d feel this way about you? Absolutely.”

 “I don’t want you to think that this is one sided,” you tell him, fingertips nervously playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, “Or anything like that…”

 “I know it’s not, baby,” David reassures, “If it was one sided, you wouldn’t melt the way you do when I kiss you.”

 “What?”

 “Sorry,” he giggles quietly, arms wrapping around your torso, “But you do. Like, let me kiss you.” 

 Dave leans up, attaching your lips, feeling you sigh into the kiss and tug his head closer. He pulls away, meeting your eyes and giggling once more, “It’s okay, baby, really. It’s cute. You do it every time. I love it.” 

 “But I know it’s not one sided, honey, don’t worry about it,” he changes the subject, “Just don’t close up on me, okay? You’ve been a little off lately - especially tonight. Talk to me if you feel any different about this, ‘cause I love you - a lot.”

 “I know, I will-”

 “I love you and I want to make this good for you,” David continues, eyes glued to yours, hands now on your waist, “If that means changing how we do things, then I’ll do it, you just have to tell me. I can’t have my girl getting closed off from me, can I?” 

 You blush, shaking your head sheepishly. His head drops, lips pressing softly against your shoulder as he murmurs a quiet, “Just let me in, babe. I promise I can help.” 

 You go quiet, shifting slightly and settling your head in his neck. You focus on his breathing momentarily, before David breaks, “I don’t wanna rush you, baby, but don’t you think we should get going?” 

 You nod against him, both of you sitting up. He silently reaches for your clothes before grabbing his, plucking your bra from the pile. He puts it on you, gently sliding the straps over your arms and onto your shoulders. 

 You adjust the cups for him, before he asks, voice soft, “Which clasp do you do? Sorry, I should pay more attention...” You tell him and he complies with a slight struggle, completing the task nonetheless. His success is accompanied by a loving kiss pressed to the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

 You help each other dress - doting kisses along his collarbone as he slips his shirt on, his fingertips dancing along the waistband of your underwear as you kiss him, tugging lightly on his hair and sighing.

 “I’ll never get over how much I love you,” David says, whining slightly, “This is love, baby. I never want to stop touching you.”

 “I want to be here with you forever,” you murmur against his lips, “This is so perfect.”

 “You’re perfect,” he compliments, kissing you again, “So perfect.”

 “So are you,” you say, “Literally. Dream guy.” 

 “You mean that?” David quickly asks between kisses, breathless, “Like, really? I’m your dream guy?”

 “Of course,” you admit, not thinking twice, sentences broken up by kisses, “You’re hot. You’re cute. You’re sweet. You’re an asshole, which I guess I’m into. You know how to fuck me. You’re the best. Not gonna find anyone else like you.”

 “Mmm,” David hums, affirming, “Nobody fucks you like me. We gotta go.”

 “Touch me some more,” you insist, pushing his hands down your sides and kissing him, “Please.”

 His fingers push up the hem of your shirt as he kisses you, nails digging into your skin slightly, before he rushes out, “I gotta tell you something. It’s embarrassing; don’t laugh at me.”

 “What is it?”

 “I’m sure you’ve noticed, but,” Dave says, tugging you closer, “I’ve been calling you late at night a lot, right?”

 “Yeah, you have,” you affirm, quickly growing worried, “Is everything okay?”

 He giggles slightly, looking up into your eyes, “Everything’s fine, baby, I just, um...The reason I’ve been calling you so late is ‘cause I’ve gotten into a really bad habit.”

 “What is it, Dave?”

 “I can’t sleep without you now,” he admits, “I try to go to bed but I just need you. I can’t get you, so I just gotta get the balls to call you so I can hear your voice for a while. I just fall asleep to that. It’s enough - most of the time, at least.” 

 “You could always sneak over,” you offer, “You don't gotta go through all of that. Come over and sleep.”

 “Yeah? You’d let me?”

 “Yeah, of course! Don’t come over just to fuck, though-”

 “I won't, baby. I know you do most of your homework at night, anyways...I just wanna sleep.”

 “Is it that bad?” you ask, “How much are you sleeping?” 

 “Like, an hour or two a night? It’s pretty bad, I guess,” David says, “I’m really tired all the time.” 

 “Baby, you need to sleep!” you insist, pulling him closer, “You should’ve told me before. I can leave my window open for you.”

 “Okay, I’ll tell you when I’m coming over once we start school again. Don’t stay up all night on me when you’re working - a bed that smells like you but doesn’t have you in it isn’t any help.”

 “I’m always right there at my desk, though-”

 “Still not in my arms,” David interrupts, “But note taken that I can sneak over; maybe I’ll get some sleep on school nights now. We need to get going.” 

 “Yeah, we do. Kiss me, first,” you agree, Dave quickly leaning up and attaching your lips. 

 He leans out a few seconds later, faces still close, before he speaks, “I love you so much...”

 “But?”

 “No but...,” he trails, “I just - I don't even know how to put into words how much I love you. I could never explain it the right way.”

 “I believe you,” you say, hands in his hair, “But when you can't use your words, use your actions.”

 David giggles slightly, sleepy smile coming to his face, “My actions? Let me think...The way you let me shove my dick down your throat really reminds me of how much I love and appreciate you. No, I’m kidding.”

 “What can I do when I want you to know how much I love you but can’t describe it?” David asks himself, humming quietly as the gears in his head turn, “I think everything is in touches for us. Kinda goes back to what we were talking about; if I do this,” Dave runs his fingertips up your spine, feeling you get goosebumps under him, “or if I do this,” he gathers a fistful of your hair in one of his hands, tugging slightly and exposing your neck, “They mean the same thing, you know?”

 “Either way,” he continues, “My love for you is there. Take every time I touch you as an ‘I love you’ - I’m not good at going into depth with how I feel, but me loving you is still always on my mind.” 

 You nod in his hold, fingers still running through his hair as you lean in for a kiss, David saying quietly before your lips attach, “I think I mean it more and more every time I say it.” 

 You kiss softly, Dave beginning to murmur a steady stream of I love you’s against your lips before he finally pulls away, “Yeah. Every time I say it, it feels different. Fuck, baby, I love you. As friends.”

 “I love you too,” you reciprocate, eyes on his as you force yourself to lie, “As friends.” 

 “As friends,” he confirms, pressing a final kiss to your lips, “Up front, baby. Let’s go.” 

 ++

 David is openly distraught as he throws open Natalie’s front door and scrambles around the first floor to the kitchen, skimming through cupboards and cursing under his breath. 

 “Um, hello? What’s up?” Natalie speaks up from the living room questioningly, peeking over the back of the couch at David. He crouches down in front of the cupboard under the kitchen sink, skimming through the labels of random containers.

 “Where’s your first aid kit?” 

 “What the fuck?” she asks, eyebrows scrunching together, “Why?”

 “Y/N hurt herself! Where is it?” 

 You interrupt, “David, it’s not even that big of a deal-”

 “Wait, what? What happened-“

 “Nat!” He exclaims harshly, startling her as she jumps slightly at his tone. 

 “It’s in the bathroom upstairs,” she rolls her eyes, sitting back in her seat, “The one by my room.”

 Dave immediately rushes upstairs, you following closely behind as he hurriedly skips steps in his ascent.

 “On the counter,” he demands once you get to the bathroom, grabbing the red bag from under the sink. You obey, hopping onto the sink and allowing him to tug your jeans past your hips, stopping at your knees.

 David’s not sure what he’s doing; he never took first aid and he’s never had to do any of this before. He grabs the first thing from the kit which seems like it might help - a bottle of hydrogen peroxide - ultimately deciding he’s going to wing it. 

 “What the fuck?” Dima appears in the doorway with Natalie in tow, you and David turning to acknowledge them. 

 “Why are your pants down?” Dima questions, eyebrows raised. 

 “I burned my leg.” 

 “How?”

 “I dropped my cigarette,” you quickly lie, neither Dima or Nat questioning it right away as Dima takes notice of the bottle in David's hand. 

 “You’re not putting that on it, are you?” 

 He shrugs, “Should I not?”

 Dima sighs, dragging his hands down his face, “Jesus. Let me do it.”

 “No, I can do it. Just tell me what to do,” David argues as Dima makes his way over to you.

 “Obviously you can’t, dude,” Dima motions towards the peroxide.

 David scoffs, “I can do it-“

 “Dave, just let him,” David’s eyes widen at you, almost offended you won’t take his side, “He’s in sports med, he probably knows what he’s doing.” 

 He finally agrees, rolling his eyes as he moves to stand on the opposite side of you. Dima grabs a washcloth from the cupboard and runs it under cold water, saturating it completely. He eyes the deep, circle shaped burn on your thigh, immediately aware you lied about how you received it. He doesn’t call you out, giving you a quick look of warning before pressing the cloth against your thigh. 

 You hiss, immediately grabbing David’s hand and squeezing. Dima spots the worry on his face and goes to give Natalie a look of his own, but she’s staring at you two with an expression somewhere between sympathy and adoration. 

 Dima continues holding the washcloth, looking underneath it to get another glimpse of the spot.

 “This is really deep for just dropping it, Y/N,” he comments, “Like, second degree, at least.”

 “Fuck,” David mumbles, untangling your hands to push your jeans further down, not wanting them to get wet.

 “David, I don’t understand why you’re freaking out. You’re more concerned than she is,” Dima says, pushing the damp cloth a little deeper.

 You hiss once more at the feeling, free hand moving to the nape of Dave’s neck, digging your fingertips in. His hand moves to your waist in response, resting there as Dima eyes the way David’s thumb rubs at your skin comfortingly.

 “I feel bad, okay?” 

 “It’s not your fault, though,” you add, causing him to frown.

 “I just don’t like seeing you hurt.” Your fingers move from his neck to tangle in the short hair at the back of his head, his eyes meeting yours.

 “It’s fine, Dave,” you promise, “I’ll be fine.” 

 “What if it scars?” he asks, eyes wide, “I’d feel so terrible.”

 “Why?” Dima interrupts. 

 “I-I don’t know, dude, I’d just feel bad, okay?” he defends, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Dima and Natalie glance at each other once more, dropping the subject and moving on. 

 ++

 You and David had gotten to Courtney’s party a bit late and it was already booming. You were already well on your way to blacking out when you got there due to the numerous amount of shots you’d done before you left your house, but that didn’t stop you from dragging David to the kitchen and pouring another. You clinked your glass against his and took the shot, quickly being dragged away by Natalie to play beer pong. 

 You and David arrived to Courtney’s party late – a consequence of David witnessing the numerous shots you had insisted on taking beforehand coupled with insistent begging for him to shove his cock down your throat while he drove.

 It was around an hour later you and David stood in the middle of the living room with a beer in each of your hands, about to shotgun them when Ilya shouts from beside you, “Hey, Dave! You should do a boob luge with Y/N!” 

 David laughs as a few people started cheering on the idea and you grab his arm, leaning in close enough so he can hear you over the noise. 

 “What is that?” you ask, confused. 

 “It’s like, someone pours beer between your boobs and I drink it from under,” you raise your eyebrows and he brushes it off, putting his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side, “But Il’s just kidding, don’t worry.” 

 You grin, looking up at him and uttering, “Do it.” David pulls away from you slightly, shocked by your agreement to the idea. 

 “Wait, what?”

 “Do it! You won’t,” you test and you can see him thinking over whether or not it’s a good idea before he smirks, shrugging and taking the beer from your hand and passing the two to Ilya. The cheers get louder as David turns to you, tugging on the bottom of your shirt lightly. 

 “You gotta take this off.”

 You pull it over your head, tossing it somewhere beside you as David gets on his knees in front of you, putting his hands on your waist. Ilya cracks open one of the beers, mumbling quietly, “Okay, push your boobs together.”

 You do as he says, lifting up your bra a bit by the straps and pushing your chest together. You’re about to roll your eyes as you hear someone whistle but David rubs his thumb gently against the skin on your waist and you forget about it completely. 

 Ilya slurs out a quick “Ready?” to which both you and David nod, almost instantly feeling the alcohol being dumped on your chest. It’s cold and you gasp quietly, the added sensation of David’s tongue on the skin of your stomach making you sigh. 

 He continues to lap at the alcohol even after Ilya’s finished pouring it and you momentarily let yourself forget about the crowd, threading your fingers through his hair. He tries to get at the alcohol between your boobs but your bra is in the way so he pushes it up a bit more. You want to tell him to stop; remind him that people are watching, that you might have a nip slip if your bra moves even slightly, that Natalie’s gonna kill you but the words get caught in your throat when he slips his hands under your bra. 

 “Alex,” David hisses and the boy sitting on the couch beside you, one you recognized as one of David’s friends, mumbles back a confused “What?”

 “Fuckin’...” he attempts to push your bra up a bit more with the back of his hands, making sure you don’t accidentally flash anyone. “Take this shit off.”

 You’re too spaced out from the alcohol and David’s mouth on you to protest when you feel Alex behind you, unhooking your bra and pushing it off your shoulders. He doesn’t move as David slides his tongue up your chest so you lean into him, head thrown back against one of his shoulders. Alex runs his hands up your arms lightly and you look back at him, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling of wanting to kiss him. 

 Maybe it’s because you wanna kiss someone and you know it can’t be David, but a part of you is telling yourself that you need to kiss someone else to be sure of how you feel about David. 

 You don’t give yourself the chance to overthink it, grabbing Alex by the back of his head and pulling his lips to yours. You feel David’s hands tighten on your boobs and he briefly bites the skin on one of them causing you to gasp, pulling away from Alex for a moment. 

 Your eyes lock with David’s and he gives you a look somewhere between anger and disappointment, almost a warning. You wonder if this is what he was talking about in the car; how he gets jealous easily and you wouldn’t like it when he does, and now you’re very curious to find out. 

 You keep your eyes on his as your grip tightens on Alex’s neck, pulling him into yours. He starts trailing kisses from your shoulder up to behind your ear and you let out a low whine, watching as David’s eyes darken. You’re interrupted by Ilya asking if he wants to do another and you agree for him, smirking down at him as he pushes your boobs together. 

 You feel the alcohol on your chest again at the same time as you feel Alex against your ass. He’s hard, it’s painstakingly obvious and you grin, pushing back against him a bit harder. 

 The beer can is empty, thrown somewhere on the floor with your shirt and your bra and David’s back to sucking on your chest. He starts nipping the skin a bit harder and you grip the back of his hair to pull him away but it’s too late because he’s left a mark. 

 You start moving your ass against Alex, hearing him let out a soft grunt into your neck and you think David heard it too because he’s standing up now, chest pressed against yours so he can drop his hand to your thighs. You look up at him, silently begging him to just fucking kiss you already but he decides to skip that and starts sliding his hand up under your skirt. 

 You’re embarrassed. 

 It’s not because of that fact that David’s managed to slip his fingers past your underwear and inside you, but the fact that you heard it. You wonder if anyone else had heard, but that’s quickly answered when Ilya shouts “Get a room!”

 David’s hands are off of you and he simply utters an alright before grabbing one of your arms and moving it to cover your chest, grabbing the other one and dragging you away. 

 David swears he feels his blood boil when you call out ‘Wait!’ and beg Alex to come with. He agrees, and David has to restrain from rolling his eyes into the back of his head when Alex follows the two of you. 

 “Is this okay?” you ask, quietly so only David can hear you. He gets the sense you’re doing this on purpose, attempting to get a rise out of him. He mumbles out a quick whatever and continues dragging you up the stairs. 

 He pushes you into the first empty room he finds, coincidentally belonging to Courtney. He waits for Alex to go in before shutting the door and locking it. You’re making out with Alex, tongues sloppy, when David turns back around to you both. You squeal into Alex’s mouth as David yanks your skirt down without care. 

 Alex climbs onto the bed and pulls you with him, tugging his shirt over his head as you work on undoing his belt. You don’t have the patience to take his pants and underwear all the way off right away, taking him in your mouth the second you have the chance. The groan he lets out distracts you enough you don’t notice David behind you until his fingers are back inside of you. 

 You whine, about to lift your head, David pushing it back down until you feel Alex at the back of your throat.

 “Hey! Careful!” Alex scolds, moving David’s hand off the back of your head. 

 David snickers as Alex wipes away the few tears under your eyes. 

 “Don’t worry, she likes it when you rough her up a bit. Don’t you, baby?” He brings his hand down hard on your ass and you squeal, pushing back into him as if to ask for more. 

 Alex doesn’t bother questioning the pet name or how David knows what you like, instead, he tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes your head back down. He stops the second you gag but David shakes his head. 

 “Uh uh, Alex, she can take more than that.”

 He pushes your head back down all the way and holds you there, nervous for your reaction. Alex is pleasantly surprised at your willingness to take him all, throat undulating around him. 

 ++

 “Baby, I just-” David whispers, wiping quickly at his mouth before both hands are on your bare waist. You’re both stood in Courtney’s bathroom attached to her room, door open slightly as Alex quietly gets dressed after your drunken romp. “I didn’t really like that. Can we not do that again?”

 “Was it bad for you or something?” You ask, clueless, arms wrapped around his neck. 

 David maintains eye contact before tutting softly, “No, it wasn’t bad. Of course not. Nothing about it was bad, just...that’s not us. I like it when it’s us. Just us, you know?”

 “I just wanted to try it,” you say, suddenly feeling the need to apologize, “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you about it before.”

 “No, baby, don’t feel bad,” he reassures, “I said yes. It’s not on Alex or anything, but...I don’t like sharing you. I don’t want anyone else involved.”

 Alex eavesdrops as best he can as he tugs his shorts on and sits in an uncomfortable bean bag lying on Courtney’s floor. From this angle, he watches as David kisses your shoulders while clasping your bra together. He feels slightly creepy as his nosiness takes over, leaning forward in his seat to hear your conversation better. 

 “Do you think he knows?” Alex hears you ask, “That we’re...you know…?”

 “I’m sure he does, honey, he’s not stupid,” David says, lips pressing to your forehead, “It’s okay. He can know.”

“But babe, no one else does-” you complain, still fairly drunk as David pulls you in for a hug.

 “It’s okay,” he soothes, “Y/N, thirty minutes ago I was drinking a beer from between your tits. Alex can know.”

 You sigh against him, trusting him completely as he moves to get dressed himself. You complain briefly about wanting to sleep, David telling you to go get into bed and he’ll wake you when it’s time to leave with Dom. 

 You obey, not acknowledging Alex as you climb into Courtney’s defiled sheets, eyes closing. David wakes you up slightly minutes later as he crawls in next to you, arms wrapping comfortingly around you as you bury your face in his chest.

 “So,” Alex breaks the silence, putting his phone in his pocket, “How long has this been going on between you guys?”

 David laughs lightly, fingers playing with the ends of your hair, “It’s that obvious, huh? I mean, probably a month or so? The night before homecoming.” 

 Both believe you’re snoozing as you eavesdrop just as Alex had, your eyes glued shut. 

 “Are you dating or is this just fucking?”

 “Just fucking.”

 “So you don’t have any feelings for her?”

 “No. Never. She’s my best friend, man, come on,” David defends, “I just can’t let myself see her that way.”

 “David, you literally just had sex with her and nutted in her. It’s okay if you have feelings - you know that, right?”

 “I know I could have feelings, but I don’t, and neither does she. I also basically just had sex with you, but I don’t have feelings for you!” 

 “Okay, dude, I love you, but I think you’re lying to yourself a little bit-”

 “I’m not. I swear, Alex. She’s beautiful and I love her, but not in that way - as friends. She feels the same way about me, too. I’m sure of it.”

 “Okay,” Alex retreats, “I trust you, man. So I could try to make a move on her and you’d be chill with it?”

 “I mean,” David pauses, “No, dude. She’s my girl. Like, we’re just friends with benefits but...we’re exclusive, you know? I’m not fucking anyone else and I don’t want to, and I definitely don’t want her to be fucking someone else. We’ve already talked about this together. We’re each other’s. No one else’s. Sorry.”

 Alex nods slowly in disbelief someone as smart as David could be so blindsided by his ability to be in denial. He wonders if you truly feel the same way David does about your relationship with each other. 

 You don’t like what you have just heard. You don’t agree with him whatsoever, and it is your fault for him believing you do. True, you don’t want anyone else, that part he is right about, but you’re beginning to believe you do have feelings for him. 

 You decide you don’t want to think about it anymore, stirring slightly and sitting up. David’s hold on you tightens as he pushes your hair away from your face, pressing a doting kiss to your forehead. 

 “Hey, baby. Like, twenty more minutes and we can go home. Do you need a shower?” He asks, eyes glued to yours. 

 “Yeah. I’m covered in beer and cum.” David laughs lightly before kissing you gently, agreeing to a shower with you once you return home. 

 “I love you,” he says lovingly, tugging you a tad bit closer, lips centimeters away, “As friends.”

 You breathe in harshly at his addition to his statement before repeating it to him, faking a smile as best you can and kissing him once more.

 Alex is fucking blown away.

[initiumseries]

CAOS Part 3 - review

Uh, okay, so I think by now, we all know this show is terrible. Netflix gives showrunners a lot of creative freedom, and I think, for better writers, you could get some really interesting content, but they just seem to keep giving these assholes who wrote the travesty called Riverdale, so many opportunities to make more shitty television, and I feel like they really deserve to be limited in their ability to create/write if not stopped completely and thrown into a well with Julie Plec.  Anyway, I’ll try to break this down as best as I can into different piles of shit and this will contain spoilers:

Characters

Prudence and Ambrose

So, to be really honest, I watch this show exclusively for Prudence and Ambrose. Because, well, look at them: 

I wish they had more chemistry because they are super hot together, and I still ship it. A young Black couple? On TV? In this sea of shitty interracial relationships? I’ll take it. Anyway, of course, the progression of their relationship is ridiculous and frustrating. Ambrose decides at the last minute, not to kill Father Blackwood because he has a weird time egg thing that they don’t really understand, also he has the twins under some weird mind control for no clear reason, so they stay their hands. It doesn’t make sense, but it becomes clear, Father Blackwood has an insane amount of plot armour and ultimately would have to serve as a vessel for Satan. Father Blackwood uses the manipulated mind of the other weird sister to sic her on the coven, and she ends up killing Dorkus, whom Prudence finds. She then blames Ambrose for not allowing her to kill FB, and they break up. Now...this would kinda make sense, if not for the fact that they trapped one of the pagan witches and forced her to change everyone back, but no one bothered to do anything about the mentally ill witch who you all strapped up for a reason? Lol ok. Seems like an oversight on your part Prudence, but...okay. Clearly manufactured breakups are exhausting, especially since [young] Black couples with no serious relationship dysfunction are now an endangered species. It’s also frustrating because we barely got to see them....*be* together, especially after they returned home. 

Nick & Sabrina

So, I know from the beginning, we were supposed to believe that Nick and Sabrina had that kind of, Bad Guy, seduces the girl Good Girl, luring her into the dark side, hot, intense, passionate relationship. But their lack of chemistry and really shitty acting just made them really dry (which I get into here). I don’t believe them, and I definitely don’t believe that Sabrina would, once again, break a shit ton of rules to get Nick back. I just don’t buy that they had that kind of an intense, desperately in love, kind relationship, because they do not look all that comfortable around each other, much less in love. 

I personally find Sabrina utterly unlikeable as a main character, largely because who IS she? She has no personality, she just does whatever the plot needs her to do in the moment, and the actress makes Sabrina appear smug and unremorseful while she fucks up everyone’s lives. There is a lot of exposition of everyone telling us she’s this power hungry, manipulative character, but we never see that. She just does stuff and everyone is all “Sabrina how could you?!” and there are never, ever any consequences. I would have liked to see her push so hard to get Nick back and the struggle being, sure she wants him back, but mostly she’s doing it because she can. But that’s not what happens. 

So Nick ends up in this weird drug addiction, alcohol, sex demon spiral because he has parts of Satan still in him and it all just falls so flat and lame, because this show is SO bad at pacing, and these actors suck, so nothing is believable. The idea of him scrubbing his club foot, having nightmares, suffering PTSD, is fine, the execution was trash. Nick sees Caliban and Sabrina have one interaction and he’s like WELL, GUESS I GOTTA CHEAT. And just ends up in some S&M situation with sex demons and heavily self medicating, but none of this has any weight, and we don’t really see him...spiralling. He just immediately resorts to these things and it has no real impact on anyone or even him really, and that’s it. 

Harvey and Roz

Uh, they’re probably the most confusing match here, because there is no lead up to their relationship, there’s not suggestion, there’s no pacing. Just BOOM, we’re into each other now. BOOM, Roz is the only sexually active person in her friend group (lol of course the Black girl is sexually active. Gotta maintain white innocence at all costs), so she’s just ready to jump Harvey’s bones any second now. So of course, the show punishes her by having the pagans turn her to stone. And as if that’s not bad enough...

Which I talk about here and here, because honestly I’m just sick of this show’s antiblackness.  Theo & that other guy

So I was watching this unfold like, yeeaahh, they’re gonna make the trans guy get with the enemy aren’t they? And yes, they did. Cool, they didn’t kill him off, but I’m still perplexed at how Theo isn’t even a little upset that this guy was basically sent to infiltrate his friend group and sat by while his people harmed Theo’s friends, and also...used him? Like...we just...are gonna...gloss over that because he changed his mind? Lol ok. Sure.

Mambo Marie and suddenly Zelda?

I...I mean her name is Mambo Marie. I love the idea of Black witches finding Black spirituality and magicks through Vodun and a Hatian Priestess. But they quickly undo that, by ensuring that Mambo Marie only teaches Prudence in the presence of these white witches. And we see her...doing...an African drum circle (eye roll), only to be interrupted by the High Priestess of White Feminism, Zelda Spellman. It quickly devolves into thinly veiled racism where Zelda doesn’t trust Marie because she’s Catholic (says the woman who worships Satan, has an anti Pope and prays to Lilith with the same prayer for Mary mother of Jesus? LOL. Not even unpacking the fact that Vodun is an African spirituality having 0 roots in catholicism WHITE WRITERS). Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Marie and Zelda are a thing for no reason? After the way Zelda treated her? Why did Marie even stay? This isn’t her problem. This is a white witch problem. Okay. That’s too much to unpack. 

Plot

So, my biggest problem with almost all Netflix English programming is that they are so obsessed with aesthetics, and don’t pay enough attention to actual character chemistry, plot, story flow, details, pacing etc. Like...things that actually make stories interesting to watch. So they slap all these people together and throw them into aesthetically pleasing backgrounds, shake it up with so much exposition that nothing actually happens, and are like BEHOLD A STORY. And CAOS is *especially* guilty for this.

First of all those musical breaks were annoying as fuck. Musicals serve 2 story functions: advancing the plot or telling a story. These musical numbers did neither and were honestly ridiculously gratuitous, highly annoying and totally pointless.

What time of year is this? Why are we having pep rallies and how the fuck and when did Sabrina and Roz join the cheeleading squad, and why?

for the aesthetics and not for any real plot reason. It just seems stupid because now I don’t know how much time has passed between Nick going to hell and this, because you’re all handling it like it’s been a few weeks and is still relatively fresh, but suddenly, Theo, Harvey and Roz are in a garage band? You’re a cheerleader? For what? Since when? Why? These choices introduce more questions than they answer and serve no narrative purpose. So much wasted time on shit that doesn’t matter. 

Sabrina is supposed to be fighting Caliban (who is literally the only person she has chemistry with on this show and they killed him bc ofc they did), for her seat on the throne, and yet the trials only seem to come up when it’s convenient, and also seem to be directly related to her dealings with her coven, which is also convenient.  I’m so confused about Satan. His powers come from being a celestial being, and so, because his coven mistreats him he’s like...lol okay, well fuck you guys and goes through all these convoluted small motions to greatly inconvenience them and withdraws his powers? This is so petty and pathetic. Also, what’s the point? He could just wipe them out and start over, instead of skulking around inside FB then suddenly decides to track down Lilith. Again, convoluted. This plot is all over the place. Why does Satan need Sabrina to be Queen of Hell in the first place? He seems perfectly healthy. Why can’t he just rule it? Like...that makes no sense. What is he gonna do? Retire? WHAT is going ON?

How did Sabrina come back in time to herself stuck in stone? Is that trip to Pontius Pilate (lol) supposed to have created a loophole for her to save herself and everyone? This is giving me hardcore Twilight Breaking Dawn vibes, where, the show finally, FINALLY gets interesting, there’s real stakes, shit is actually happening instead of everyone talking about things happening (Hilda ending up killing her fiance was literally the only time I felt something watching this show because it was genuinely sad, and well acted, and Hilda coming through with that doll at the end was pretty disturbing, I’ll give them that), and ofc, Sabrina goes back in time and undoes it all. Lol. Okay. God forbid there be real consequences to anything on this show.

Final thoughts

Once again, the white feminism runs high on this show. They treat this Black Vodun Priestess Marie, like garbage, allude to her “foreign” magic, but Marie is sitting here like “we’re not men, we’re women, let’s work together.” This is why I hate white writers writing for Black characters. Black characters should have Black motivations, and a Black Vodun Priestess, should know that white women and Black women do not have aligned motivations just because they share a gender. Once they started with the bullshit right from her arrival, she should have handed Prudence her card and peaced tf out. Instead she tolerates the isolation, ostracization and thinly veiled racism...and decides to stay, and help. WHY? Marie has gained nothing by sticking around helping these ungrateful ass witches. I honestly would have preferred Prudence asking her to stay to learn more about Vodun, and them building a mentor/mentee type of relationship, especially since Prudence was the one who invited her and stepped to Zelda to defend her. I want(ed) to see that relationship go somewhere. The deliberate denial of healthy Black female friendships on tv is frustrating.

 These witches finally finding their power in their ancestors and I donno, some female creator or whatever, reminds me of white women “finding” wicca and praying to “Gaia”, (reminds me of BTVS s4 when Willow joins the wicca group) which is basically what happened but lol okay whatever. I guess they aren’t satanic witches anymore. Lol, I love how Harvey and Roz and Theo are teenagers, human teenagers, who have lead largely normal teenage lives up until this point, but see their loved ones tortured, deformed or murdered in hell, with basically no residual issues, and are all like, YES, let’s roll up on these adults with shotguns and swords and kill the FUCK outta these people!! That absolutely sounds normal! Like...what? Lol. God this is just so bad.

Also, I’m so confused by this aesthetic choice for Sabrina as Queen of Hell. Like what the fuck. Why is she dressed like a Victorian era queen, with shoulder and a broken rib bodice? What?!

This show is truly awful, this season made no more sense than the last two and now that Prudence and Ambrose aren’t together, I might be done watching. 

-20/10

[newtshairdryer]

Thoughts on Descendants 3 as I watch it for the 8th time and pause to look at everybody all the time

- When Ben and Mal are walking out before the proposal, Audrey is slow clapping and it’s hilarious

-Chad seems genuinely happy to see them together but Audrey rains on his parade

-Please look at Chad’s face to the side after Ben gets on his knee his overdramatic gaping mouth is SENDING ME

-Why do they make Belle and the Beast kiss beside each other’s cheeks like a french greeting? For real though they’re Belle and the Beast...they should be kissing in celebration .-.

-Right after the Carlos/Beast chest bump there’s an extra in the background of Bal just having a blast popping bubbles

-Speaking of the bubbles I have no clue where they’re coming from

- Dude in the background when Audrey says ”What is wrong with you people?” bein shady AF to her

-That one girl in the wheelchair that has been in every single movie needs a name cause we all just refer to her as that one girl in the wheelchair lol

-Mal has her own purple fucking limo and she’s not even royalty yet

-Their money is so vibrantly coloured

-Those cards Celia fan out are definitely, well, a fan. They’re all attached- she’s not even holding onto some of them lol

-Mal resting her chin on Ben’s shoulder to watch him and Celia in the limo. soft

-The scenes in the limo make Ben look really big and awkward because they’re all shoved into a small space and he’s in the middle where the smallest person usually goes...but he’s the biggest person XD

-The barrier takes forever to close and there are a ton of people right there, why has no one attempted to just jump through it yet lol

-What if Hades put his hand through the barrier and it just like...cut it off LMFAO now THAT would have been entertaining 

-Hades literally makes himself roll one more time as he’s pushed back. Like there’s no more momentum and you can see he should stop but he makes himself do another somersault and it’s so obvious lol

-I know it’s been said before but the lack of security in the museum is just lazy AF writing. They didn’t even try to make it realistic it’s way too easy to just waltz in and take anything. Apparently the wand is the only thing worthy of an alarm

-Also why is there not even glass around the scepter to even attempt to discourage people from taking it? Even when the museum is OPEN someone could yank it out and start spelling shit up.

-Ben’s phone rings and he hangs it up less than a second after he picked it up- it doesn’t even show him barely looking at it. How on earth did he have time to see a message about the stolen items- let alone the fact it was a phone call ring...not a text ping

- OK WAIT IF UMA IS ON THE LOOSE AND HE TALKED ABOUT BETTER SECURITY SERIOUSLY WHY ON EARTH IS THE MUSEUM SECURITY SO NON EXISTENT??? IN BOTH THE FIRST MOVIE AND THIS ONE THEIR LACK OF SECURITY IS SUCH A GLARINGLY OBVIOUS THING WHY IS IT NON EXISTENT IT MAKES NO SENSE

-Why are the former King and Queen of Auradon and the current reigning King turning to the not yet Queen for all the advice about evil like it’s her responsibility. They don’t even attempt to brainstorm the vast amount of other ideas. And why on earth can’t she just suggest uh...literal guards by the barrier when it opens for them? Like if they paid people on the isle to guard the barrier so other isle people didn’t try to get out it would help a ton. There are so many other solutions other than closing the barrier completely (and then getting rid of it completely??)

-Does anyone else notice that like...50% of Ben’s screen time is him staring in shock/disbelief at things with literally no other expression for entire scenes? Cause I noticed it the first time around

-My favourite outfit in this whole movie for Mal is this light purple dress she has on when talking about closing the barrier for the first time with Ben’s parents and Evie. She is SO GORGEOUS in it. I’m actually not a fan of the leather suit she wears for the rest of the movie cause I don’t feel it fits with her hairstyle- mainly once it starts to go blue

-I just realized Mal’s hair literally goes from pretty much just purple to lots of blue mixed in. I guess it’s cool cause it’s like she gets power from the ember but I honestly prefer her brighter purple hair. My favourite hairstyle was her bangs she looked like an actual goddess in the 2nd movie

-I think everyone was thinking Dude got into Jane’s cake (despite the very neatly cut corner)

-I honestly love Mal’s face when Audrey shows up with the crown and scepter and her whole new gettup like “What on earth is this chick doing”

-I reiterate “what on earth is this chick doing” as Audrey goes to...sniff? the scepter?

-I wAnT tO bE dAnGeRoUS

-Audrey through a cupcake on the ground. So evil

-Honestly I’m sorry but Audrey talking all angsty to the people at Jane’s party is really cringey. Her lines are just...hhhhhhhhh (you mindless little drones in particular just seems weird the way she says it)

-How on earth does Audrey not see Jane get in the lake...she’s literally right there in full view

-OK so not ALL magic doesn’t work on the Isle, according to Celia only evil magic doesn’t work- so yes Maleficent is still a lizard cause Mal’s spell wasn’t an evil one

-Even with her massive platform shoes Mal is so much shorter than Hades she is yelling at him but having to look way up she’s adorable

- Hades “LET’S DANCE” - proceeds to shake a tambourine, slap his butt with it and stick his tongue out. ok then

-Why did I never notice Mal shake the tambourine at him angrily and then throw it lmao

-WHERE IS THE WIND COMING FROM IN THIS SONG (I will touch back on random wind that shouldn’t be there later on too)

-Mal should say thank you for the ember...imo

-”If it gets wet it’s game over” thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat’s what she said

-Mal’s walking away from Haes up those stairs? That booty thicc (only thing I really like about that outfit) 

-Girl has a zipper down her butt. She can unzip her ass cheeks

-I’m glad the jewelry in this movie is no longer plastic like Ben’s ring and his burger king crown

-“You’ll what? Marry them?” OK I am not a big fan of the plot or Audrey’s temper tantrum but  if that isn’t the best fucking burn in this whole franchise then idk what is

-gUYS CELIA IS NOT THE ACTRESS SHE IS SUPPOSE TO BE IN AN ENTIRE MAIN SHOT??? WTF? HOW HAS NO ONE POINTED THIS OUT?? SHE’S A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT PERSON WHEN THEY’RE WALKING OUT OF THE GATE TOWARDS THE BARRIER ON THE ISLE AND THEN THE NEXT SHOT IT’S BACK TO THE PROPER ACTRESS. BUT IT’S VERY OBVIOUS

-I AM GAY AS SHIT FOR UMA OK SHE IS ABSOLUTE PEAK AESTHETIC AND I WOULD LET HER CHOKE ME WITH HER BRAIDS 

-I deserve some compensation for my muscles...what does that even mean???

-Are we suppose to know who Hannah is?

-”Says you and that’s suppose to mean someth’n to me?” Ok maybe I’m just a flaming bisexual for Uma but why was that line delivery so smooth

-Audrey is abusing Chad. She threw a glass bowl at him and is literally shoving him around and yelling at him while accusing him of knowing things and not telling her. And it’s played for laughs. Descendants you have a lot of good things that are socially woke but this ain’t it man. Chad may have been a douche but he doesn’t deserve abuse. (rhyme oof)

- Why is Dude advertising that he gives great cuddles? Who is that directed at? Why is that line in there? Alright then

-How is Uma the only one that noticed the massive scratches on the wall and the literal painting slashed in half

-Mkay we get it Audrey you’re evil thanks for the random laugh

-The knight in front of them literally clanged as it moved and it’s RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM how did nobody but Harry see it move. This entire movie is me asking why something happened because honestly so much of it just doesn’t make sense but I still love the movie lmao

-Out numbered 1 to 50? How did this girl graduate lol

-I still say What The Fuck Is Happening every time Mal makes the Knights dance. It’s just the most random, out of the blue thing to do

-Mal literally licks her lip and gives Evie the most sultry look as Evie dips down and is singing the end of Night Falls. I’m not a Mevie shipper but it’s the most bedroom eyes I’ve ever seen

-Evie is an absolute ray of sunshine and deserves all the things

-Harry is genuinely flattered at Evie’s compliment about his accent he starts to smile. Dude acts like a complete player and then gets happy when someone gives him a genuine compliment lol

-Jay and Gil are adorable

-Gil is just adorable on his own

-Doug is in way too comfortable of a position to not have already been on the ground sleeping/resting. Which begs the question of why he was just on the ground sleeping like that

-Doug’s long hair and ponytail and complete lack of style are some of my biggest pet peeves in this movie. He doesn’t just look out of place next to Evie, but next to literally everyone else. He looked pretty good in the last two, why such a drastic change that literally nobody asked for or wanted lol

-I seriously can’t take Evie and Doug seriously in this movie just because of his hair. It’s just so unattractive I’m sorry not sorry

- I do enjoy the sense of urgency and time that the movie has as Mal tries to keep moving. Uma and her being like “just kiss him already” is fun

-They could have shot Audrey looking at them through the scepter in a different way...the way it’s just the same close up shot every time she’s looking at it with her hair blowing in the non-existent wind just adds to how cheesy her whole performance is (not her fault, director and writers fault)

-Mal should have kissed Ben when they reunited. 0 reason not to. She was super worried about him and finally reunited with him and she also LOOKED like she wanted to kiss him. Girl was super into that beard. 

-Leave some room for Jesus lmao 

-I’m just bitter cause the only kiss we get this whole movie is from kinda far away and is short. We’ve also never seen them share a sweet kiss in private- they’re always on display....maybe it’s a kink lol

-Ben and Mal holding hands while trying to sneak around <3

-Sophia’s acting when Evie is upset is on point. This whole scene is one of the only really good ones where everyone is rightfully upset with Mal. 

-Mal has had to sing about her feelings in every movie lmao

-Why...does the dragon look like it has a low frame rate? It looks choppy

-Audrey just, once again, doesn’t look menacing. She’s just like...waving a stick around and making mean faces

-”I owe you an apology” says everyone but...no one actually says “I’m sorry” lol

- Ben is just “aw yiss speak human rights to me baby” at Mal during the engagement party

- Beast: “We can’t do that.” I AGREE

-Taking the barrier down with no screening for the villains is a bad bad bad bad idea but it’s a happy disney universe so everything is fine - ugh

-UNSAFE BRIDGE!!1!!1 I’m waiting for someone to fall off- just once, please

-Mal and Uma jumping up and down when they kmeetis the cutest fucking thing on earth

-Ben needs a different thing to dance in, his suit is so stiff

-Harry and Audrey? Hmmmm I’m not opposed but I’m also not feelin it

-Were those people just...waiting there with an already built dragon?

-Ben likes to hip thrust in every movie, no lie

[hybridfanfiction]

Owner Training - 3

Word Count: 2,236

Life with Yoongi was turning you into a master of compromise, admittedly in his favor. He would request all windows and doors were to remain open, you would insist on the bathroom door being closed when you were in there. He insisted on a diet that consisted of meat, cheese, and half & half ( “Milk is basically white water and cream is too thick. It has to be half and half.”). You convinced him to have a salad at least once a week. He demanded fifteen hours of uninterrupted silence during the day for his sleep, you talked him down to ten at night and a five hour nap while you were at work. Basically, you were a pro negotiator now.

This is why it wasn’t a surprise to you that you’d been on the phone with a sick Yoongi for the past five minutes explaining that no, you weren’t going to bring home sashimi for dinner because you highly doubted the story he told about hybrids healing faster if they eat raw meat. You were more than happy to bring home some chicken soup, however. And if he willingly took some vitamin C tablets, you’d even buy some vanilla ice cream to soothe his throat. The promise of the frozen treat seemed to do the trick as he stopped coming up with hybrid health facts that you were certain he was pulling out of his ass and hung up, finally letting you get back to work uninterrupted. 

You sigh wearily as you turn back to your computer, but you can’t help the little fond smile that grows as you think about him. Yoongi was a brat, it was true, but he was never really mean or a problem. You were sure he just got a little thrill every time he was able to trick you into doing what he wanted, thinking himself the most clever of cats. Honestly, you weren’t as dumb as he probably thought you were. Some of his victories came from your ignorance, as you were still learning. You wouldn’t deny that. However, you often let him get away with things just to see his little smirk of victory and obvious happiness. 

Humming, you get back to work. You wanted to try to get some of the basic office work out of the way so you wouldn’t end up behind if you needed to take some time off to take care of Yoongi. 

“Was that your hybrid again?” Your co-worker next to you grinned as she asked, very used to listening to your daily battles with Yoongi. 

“Yeah. He’s had a cold for a couple days and he’s even more demanding than usual. It’s cute, but it would make my life easier if he would stop refusing to go to the vet. I’m sure they have meds that would end it faster.” 

“Oh, he’s one of those. My girl was like that at first too, absolutely refused the vet. We got her on a rewards system now though. Every time she does a task successfully, like going to the vet without whining or learning a new trick, she gets a star on the board. Once she reaches a certain amount, she gets a treat. Like a trip to the park or a new toy. You should try something like that with yours.” 

Something about the way she said it struck you as not only childish but slightly demeaning. Tricks? They weren’t actual dogs. You were certain if you tried to teach Yoongi an actual trick he’d flip you off and lock you out of your own bedroom. 

“I don’t know. Yoongi was a stray, so he’s a little more sensitive than most,” you mutter, trying to keep your opinion to yourself. Last thing you needed was a co-worker that hated you because you called them a hybridist. 

“Well, at the very least, you should have him trained a little more. My Lola wouldn’t dream of bothering me at work unless it was an emergency. Something like that would mean she’d have to move her mat out of my bedroom for the night and into the living room.” 

“A mat? She doesn’t sleep with you?” 

“Goodness, no. Hybrids aren’t allowed on the furniture, dear. You have to establish dominance, and letting them onto the couch or your bed makes them think they own the house. This is your first one, isn’t it?” 

You nod silently and keep your thoughts to yourself. You felt really bad for this Lola. You know Yoongi would have ran away from this woman in a day. He may be a brat, but he didn’t deserve to be treated like that. 

“Well, just remember that you’re the owner and they’re the pet. I’ll email you a few links to some great sites that can help.” 

Thankfully, she goes back to work after that. To think, you used to like this woman. She was a great paralegal, but apparently a shit person. 

You sigh and glance around your area, wondering what the chances were of Yoongi letting you take a picture of him. You could frame it and liven your desk up a little more. You grin at the thought of the battle you’d have to go through just to get one decent photo. He would put up a fight for sure, but all you’d have to do is compliment and praise him enough for him to think he’d be doing you a favor. The best way to get him to do anything was to make him think it was his own idea. It would have to wait until after he wasn’t sick though. 

With the reminder of your sick kitty, you power through your work for the day, anxious to get home to him. 

♦

You juggle the multiple bags to the kitchen and quickly stick the ice cream in the freezer before you go searching for your hybrid. After checking the bedroom which turned out to be empty, you realize that the lump of blankets on the couch is actually him when you spot a single ear poking out, moving whichever direction you headed. 

A single sneeze came from the kitten burrito, sounding more like it came from a mouse than the usually gravelly voiced hybrid. 

“Yoongi, I brought you dinner. You gonna get up?” 

“Did you bring my sashimi?” 

His poor voice makes you cringe, rough with the coughs and sore throat that he’s been dealing with. You hated seeing him like this. 

“No. I brought you chicken soup, which will actually help you feel better.” 

He pulled the blanket down to pout at you, still looking adorable as he did so despite the watery eyes and red nose. He sniffed and battled a cough before frowning again. 

“I’m not getting up. You’re going to have to feed me.” 

You raise an eyebrow which he merely counters with one of his own. Finally, after a few second standoff, you sigh and go grab the bag with his food, along with some water since you doubted he’d had any today. You also grab the bottle of vitamin C tablets, since it didn’t look like he’d even gotten up today so you were sure he hadn’t taken one yet. 

You set everything up on the coffee table and he scoots up a little bit so that the blanket is around his shoulders, leaving his head out. You take the chance to reach out and feel his forehead, grimacing a bit when you realize it’s a little warmer than it was this morning. 

“If that gets worse, we’re going to the vet whether you like it or not. You can die from high fevers, Yoongi.” 

“I’m a hybrid. I have a naturally higher body temperature than a human, so you don’t know what to judge by. This is fine.” 

You didn’t like it, but you promised yourself you’d keep an eye on it anyway. Hopefully having a decent meal and plenty of water will help for now. You take the lid off the chicken soup, smiling as the aroma hits you. The lady that owned the restaurant was very fond of Yoongi, as the two of you were regulars there, and she had fussed when you told her he was sick. You could tell that she’d put extra ginseng and broth in the soup today to help him get better. 

You take a big spoonful of the rice and broth and tear off a piece of the chicken to place on top before blowing gently to cool it. You guide it to Yoongi’s already open and waiting mouth, the cat resembling a baby bird as he did so. You grin as he chews happily, humming to himself. The bowl is quickly devoured, leading you to believe he hadn’t even bothered to get up and feed himself at all today. 

You had him the vitamin C tablet next and let him chew it before forcing him to drink the entire bottle of water. You’re impressed that he went through the entire meal without a single complaint or criticism. 

Of course, it could just be because he wants his treat. 

You go to the kitchen and dish out a single scoop of ice cream and grab more water just in case. When you bring the treat back to the couch, Yoongi’s face lights up and his eyes are glued to the bowl. He moans when the first bite cools his abused throat. He goes through the entire scoop in mere moments, letting his head fall back against the couch in contentment when it was all gone. 

You set the bowl down on the coffee table before reaching over to check his temp again. It still felt pretty much the same, but it hadn’t gotten worse at least. You brush the hair away from his forehead absentmindedly, just hoping to give him some comfort so he’ll fall asleep. He startles you when he shoves his head into your hand, peeking up at you through heavy-lidded eyes. 

“Pet me.” 

Your jaw drops in surprise. “Really?” 

Instead of answering, he butts into your hand again. With a growing grin, you thread your hands into his hair, slowly combing through it and occasionally scratching around the bases of his ears. Soon, the unmistakable sounds of purring fill the room and you quickly decide the sick and sleepy Yoongi was one of your favorite things (although you still wished he wasn’t sick, of course). 

Just when you think he’s finally nodded off, his eyes shoot open and he clears his throat.

“Diablo.” 

“What?” 

“That cat you bought me. I need it.” 

You shake your head and you fetch the cat plushie from the nearby recliner. 

“You named it Diablo? Why not mittens or socks? Something cute. Look, it has different colored feet.” 

He glares at you and pulls one hand out of the blanket to reach for it. 

“Fine. Here’s Diablo,” you sigh, handing him the toy. He tucks it near his head, then opens the blankets so quickly that you were unprepared for him to pull you on top of him and wrap them around you. 

“Jesus, you’re burning up in here,” you mumble against the warm chest you’re pressed against. 

He hums and tangles his legs with yours and wraps his tail around your waist. 

“Shut up and sleep,” he orders with a loud yawn, adding his arms to the mix so you were basically trapped in the kitten burrito. 

The purring came back moments later, the rumbling as you laid against his chest oddly soothing. He soon started the little puffs of breathing that meant he was nearly asleep, so you closed your eyes and let yourself join him.

♦

There was a rattling sound that slowly woke you from your slumber, but you stubbornly kept your eyes shut until a beam of bright light hit your eyelids, practically blinding you. You opened your eyes and glared at the offender, which turned out to be a smug cat holding the window blinds open so the sun would hit you right in your face. 

“Get up. You’re going to take me to the park today. I’ve been cooped up for too long.” 

You sit up and observe him with a sleepy scowl that quickly changes to a relieved smile when you realize he’s essentially healthy again. His color looks normal and his eyes are clear, and you haven't heard a single sniffle. 

“All better then?” 

“Yup. Pretty sure it was the ice cream.” 

You roll your eyes and sit up, then take the hand he offers you to help you stand and lead you towards the bathroom. 

“Um...thank you for taking care of me. You didn’t need to go all out, but you did, so yeah. Thanks,” he says softly. 

Before you can answer he quickly leans over and pecks your cheek, blushing brightly, before he essentially shoves you into the bathroom. 

You hold the door, still in shock and feeling the touch of his lips on your skin like a brand. You’re sure the grin you’re sporting is dopey as hell. 

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” 

He nods and starts to walk away from the door, only to pause and throw a smirk over his shoulder. 

“Though, I could have been better in one day instead of three if you’d gotten my sashimi.” 

You adored the brat, you really did. 

[cosmictrust]

back to you II

sweet pea x fem!reader ♀

warnings: none! :)

you and sweet pea have been dating, but sweet pea isn’t quite over his ex.

one of the many things sweet pea loved about you was that you were, when pissed, a stone cold bitch. it’s what made you perfect for the serpents; and him. you were generous, protective. when threatened, a ruthless, cut throat snake. 

sweet pea hated to be on the receiving end of it when you sometimes argued. but now? being apart? it was stressful and annoying. 

any trace of your affection or hate for him seemed totally wiped. like nothing had ever happened, or ever will. you didn’t avoid him; you didn’t go after him.  

the silence between the two of you was devastating. 

sweet pea felt like he was heartbroken, and you’d moved on in a matter of minutes. it made him burn with jealousy and anger. 

 sweet pea was leaning against the locker next to jughead’s, arms crossed. he closely watched as you laughed with toni 

about something, putting your textbooks away. jughead slammed his locker shut, startling sweets. 

“you alright?” came the question that everyone seemed to ask. sweet pea glares at jughead in a silent response. he holds up his hands defensively, eyebrows raising. 

“leave it, jones. and don’t tell your north side friends, either.” pea snaps, looking back to where you and toni were now leaving, her arm thrown around your shoulders. 

you were great at putting on a front. the night pea left, you shoved all of your emotions back under the surface, hoping you’d drown them. but each time you felt sweets looking, each time your eyes met, you put the cool, neutral face on while all

of the untameable emotions bubbled back up. it hurt; but you’re sure it will all be fine in time. maybe you won’t care anymore soon. 

*

it’s friday night, and as always, you’re at the wyrm. chatting with any of the serpents. not moping around, crying over sweet pea. doing the opposite, in fact. you suppose that it’s good and healthy for you; at least that’s what toni and fangs are trying to convince sweet pea of right now. 

he’d been in his trailer, snuggled under thick blankets when fangs came. he’d attempted so many times to get sweet pea out of his funk. maybe it was too soon, but he wanted things to get back to normal. and very soon. 

so, he got out the big guns.

toni topaz had an almost suspicious excellence of convincing people to do anything; fangs could put his life on it.  so, he’d called her over. 

about twenty minutes into their coaxing, he’d finally broken. not without double the amount of complaining, though. 

so, here sweet pea was, reshaping a pool cue in the back corner of the dim bar. while deeply invested in a pool tournament, his eyes skimmed over the booths for any potential takers for the game. his shoulders tensed as he spots you and jughead, speaking over a few fries. 

he likes it when your hair is down, carelessly thrown over your serpent jacket, nicely framing such a pretty face. it's so classically you. 

it distracts his aching heart for a moment, before he’s yanked out of his daydream by his opponents ball clacking into a pocket. 

sweet pea loses the match, unable to keep his focus on anything but you. he’s anxious, hands the stick to whoever’s next, immediately striding to grab a seat at the bar to get a better look at you. 

“smooth!” fangs’ voice approaches from behind him, patting sweets’ shoulder. 

“oh, fuck off.” sweet pea groans, finally tearing his eyes from you. 

“no man, i get it,” fangs sighs, shaking his head. “it’s y/n.” 

“what does that mean?” 

“you know, pea. she’s perfect. legacy, loyal, young,” he shrugs, glancing over to you like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “a great friend.” 

“so, i fucked up bad, is what you’re saying?” 

“yeah, pretty much.” fangs laughs, knowing he was dead serious underneath. 

“i don’t even know what i did,”sweet pea sighs in frustration. “how do i fix it if i don’t know what i did?”

“it’s not my place to tell you,” fangs shakes his head. “prove to her how much you love her. that she means more to you; she’ll come around,” fangs exhales, eyes flickering up to meet sweet pea’s. “you know, she’s real good at doing that thing with her feelings.” 

“huh?” sweets furrows his eyebrows, confusion laced through his voice. 

“jesus, you’re more clueless than i thought!” fangs lets out a breathy laugh, throwing his hands in the air. “you’ve been moping all this time because you think she isn’t heart broken? she’s obviously not okay, pea.” 

“debatable.” 

“man, in order for this to work, you gotta get your head out of your ass.”

sweet pea narrows his eyes, groaning. 

“do whatever you feel is right, SP. she’ll listen.” he raises his eyebrows and gives sweets a supportive pat.

“i don’t even remember that dream i apparently had about josie..” sweets bottom lip sticks out as he pouts. “it’s not fair.” 

“yeah, well, it hurt her, all the same. and you were an asshole that night at the bar.”  fangs who’s that sweet pea wasn’t completely lucid during either situations, but he supposed pea had to remember the night at the wyrm. 

“i don’t deserve her.” sweets mutters, putting his head in his hands. 

“maybe not,” fangs replies honestly. “so does that mean you’re gonna stop your miserable attempt to get her back?” 

“no,” he looks at fangs, glaring at him. “what, were you waiting on her?” pea crossed his arms as fangs laughs and looks over at you briefly. he knows sweet pea is just irritated, but fangs will always see you like a younger sister. 

“just make it up to her.” was fangs’ parting advice, ruffling pea’s hair as he walked back to the pool table. 

shit. no better time than now, right? 

he turns around in his bar stool, glancing back to you and jughead, laughing and talking. 

getting up to swiftly waltz over to the booth, his hands shake. it isn’t until he gets right up to your table that the two of you notice him. 

“sweet pea.” you acknowledged, curiosity laced through your tone. your face void of emotion. 

“what’s up?” jones looks up at pea, raising his eyebrows. 

“i just wanted to talk to y/n.” sweet pea almost stutters, gaze locked on jones. jughead uncomfortably stands up, noticing the shift between the couple as you quickly protest. 

“no, please,” you scoff, emptily staring at sweet pea. “jughead, stay. it’s just three serpents having a conversation.” 

better than nothing, right? 

you slide over a bunch, so your left shoulder is tightly pressed to the wall. patting the seat next to you, sweets sighs. 

when he sits, there’s a good foot between the two of you, and he hates it. jug’s eyes are glued to the floor, caught in the lover’s quarrel.  

“i don’t care if jughead is here,” sweet pea finally looks at you. “we’re gonna talk about it.” 

“what do you want from me? closure? my blessing to try and win back josie?” you roll your eyes, picking up a fry and eating it. 

“you know i don’t want her.” sweets defends himself. 

“why were you begging for her in your sleep, then?” your voice raises, losing the nonchalant attitude. 

“i don’t remember, jesus! that’s how minor it was. i thought about you, first thing in the morning, i swear.” 

“you are such a fucking liar and i’m sick of it.” if looks could kill, sweet pea would be dead a long time ago. 

“i’m not a liar, i could never lie to you. i love you.” 

“stop saying that! it’s not gonna give you a free pass to win me!” tears begin to well in his baby’s eyes, and he reaches for your hand on instinct. 

she doesn’t pull away. his heart beats faster. 

“uhm,” jughead glances between the two of you. “i’m just gonna g-“ 

“no, jughead,” her tone final and icy, she finally breaks her stare down with pea. “what should i do? never talk to sweet pea again?” her eyebrows raised, sweets eyes widen. a tear falls down onto her left cheek.

“i’m not qualified for this.” jug counters, hands raised defensively. 

“no, tell me. he yelled at me for helping him, dreams about her while i fixed him up, and he strung me along our entire relationship. so how’s that sound?” she knows it’s incredibly immature to drag someone through this. however, she wanted the release of the pain, even if it’s in the tiniest way possible. 

“uh, he loves you?” jughead glances between your fiery gaze and sweet pea’s desperate one. 

“baby, y/n, listen to me. promise me you won’t say anything, i just wanna tell you everything.” his free hand slid up to her knee while his other still held her warm, welcoming hand. 

“why should i give you the chance to explain?” she asks, tears unshed glittering in her eyes. 

“you don’t have to. but i’m begging you, baby, just give me a chance.” 

she deeply exhales, looking over to jughead before she would get too emotional. 

“go.” she barks, watching jughead nod and scramble to leave the two of them alone. 

“baby girl,” sweets sucks in a breath, getting her to face him. “the first month we started dating, i did try to use you to get rid of josie,” he bites his bottom lip as her grip becomes tighter on his hand. “but immediately after, i realized i didn’t need that. you made me so happy so easily, and it scared me. i’ve never had this dependence on someone. i just needed you. so bad. and being apart from you for this long is killing me. i miss your laugh and your kisses, and i wanna be enough for you. you’re so good to me, angel. i understand what i did. i’m so sorry,” rolling his lips into his mouth to suppress a cry, sweet pea continues. “tell me what to do to fix it. please.” 

you study his face for a moment, speechless as you feel a lump in your throat. 

“oh, sweets,” you say softly, careful so your voice wouldn’t crack. “i forgive you.” 

the dumbest, widest smile comes onto pea’s face, heart melting, hearing his pet name fall from your lips. you reach and hug him, his face tucked safely into your neck as he tightly wraps his arms around you. you reach up and hug him back, gently carding your fingers through his hair. it relaxes him to no end, your body finally pressed against his.

“i love you.” he mumbles into your neck. 

“i love you, too.” sweets smiles as you return his affection, and pulls away a bit to look at your pretty face. 

“so can we start over? be mine again?” pea asks hopefully, brushing back a piece of hair from your damp cheeks. 

“pea.. no.” 

confusion and hurt pounds in his chest. 

he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“sweets, i let you explain. i forgive you, i’m just not ready to forget about it.” you frown, hand finding his and gently squeezing. 

“oh. okay.” sweets looks down, cheeks turning a dark red. “what can i do?” 

“we’ll start slow so i can learn to trust you again. just friends.” you say, cupping sweet’s cheek, making him look up at you. 

“just friends,” he repeats, nodding. “can i kiss you?” 

“just this once, but friends don’t kiss.” you counter, a small teasing smile on your face. 

sweet pea presses his lips to yours, passionate and mellow. he deepens it, gently tugging your hair back so he can kiss along your jawline. you let out a squeak in surprise, body missing his touch. as he moves down, he bites and licks at the column of your throat briefly. you can't bring yourself to make him stop.

he pulls away and brushes a thumb over your new hickey, a cheeky smile on his face. 

“just one last one, ‘cause i’ll have to wait for a while.” he laughs, and you playfully slap his hand away. 

“very classy.” you agree, rolling your eyes. 

“i missed you,” he hugs you again, trying his hardest to not cover you in kisses. “but i’ll wait. forever, if you want me to. you come first.” he finishes, kissing your forehead. 

he could be patient.

tagged: @heda-mikaelson

[allie1804-fan]

New Beginnings (Chapter 3)

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New Beginnings Baby Drabble

New Beginnings Baby Drabble No2

6 months later (November)

It was a Saturday morning at around 9 when Emily stirred from her slumber, easing out from under Keanu’s grasp to go to the bathroom. As she wiped herself after taking a leak, she felt the tell-tale sign that her period had started.She drew a shaky breath and tried to get herself under control but it was no good. Anger and sadness filled her with bitterness. She knew rationally that this could take a while and 6 months was nothing in the scheme of things but it was relentless having the monthly reminder that they had failed again. She decided on a hot shower to soothe her tension away and got up from the toilet to turn the water on.

“think positive thoughts” she berated herself as the water tumbled down “you have a girly lunch with Chloe today, that will cheer you up and maybe you can talk over these raging feelings with her”

As she washed the shampoo suds out of her hair she heard the shower door slide open and Keanu stepped in behind her immediately wrapping his arms around her.

“Morning sweethe…. don’t” she interrupted her greeting, yelping as his fingers had started to trail to her opening”

“What?, I thought you liked that!”

“I do, usually - sorry love, it’s just, you don’t wanna go there, I just got my period” she huffed, looking up at him over her shoulder with sad eyes”

He pulled her round to face him and hugged her close.

“Try not to worry, darling, we’ll get there, it just sometimes takes a while I guess”

Emily nodded back, a stray tear leaking out which he smoothed away with his thumb.

“Don’t you have plans today? Lunch with Chloe on the Drive right?”

“Yeah, what are you doing?”

“biking and lunch with the boys – be back around 5 I expect”

Over breakfast Chloe started on a topic she didn’t think would go down well with Keanu but she couldn’t stop herself

“Do  you think we should maybe do anything different, you know to help our chances?”

“like what?”

“Well maybe like trying to be a bit healthier?”

“We are healthy, aren’t we? – I mean we eat well. Don’t drink that much……….. oh I see where this is going. So this is my fault now because I smoke right?”

“I never said it was anyone’s fault Ke – I just want to move ahead and maybe that might help. Listen, you don’t have to give anything up. It’s just an idea is all”

Keanu stepped around the kitchen island. His face was contrite as he wrapped his arms around her gently.

“I’m sorry, I over-reacted. I know this is especially hard on you ….”

“Oh so it’s OK for you because you don’t really mind either way huh?”

“Jesus Christ woman, no that’s not what I meant. I just meant everything feels focussed on your body – if we succeed, you’ll be sick and all that and when we don’t succeed you have the reminder of your period driving you crazy, that’s all I meant! And if you recall, it was me who brought up the idea first, not you so don’t say I don’t want this!”

“God sorry, sorry – I’m just crabby. Ignore me”

He hugged her to him “take a taxi to lunch, go drink espresso martinis, champagne – whatever you want. Take my American Express card and go shopping on Rodeo Drive after!”

She laughed and hugged him back.

“Good plan Reeves – I might take you up on that”

They puttered around the house getting ready for their respective trips both looking forward to time with other people after the tension of the morning.

Emily met with Chloe at 208 Rodeo at noon hugging her tightly.

“Boy, I really, really need this” she exclaimed. I’m gonna drink myself a little bit silly then take you up to the shops on the drive and exploit my boyfriend’s credit card, deal?”

“Sure” Chloe said brightly though Emily caught the whisper of hesitation in her manner. Brushing it off, they headed in to get their table by the window.

“So how’s tricks?” Emily asked

“No, no you first, you’ve always got more interesting things going on than me” Chloe protested.

“Well if interesting is getting my period again then your life must be really dull!” Emily grimaced.

Chloe was the only person she’d trusted with the secret that she and Keanu were trying for a baby and for the first 5 months she’d sent ‘crying face’ emoji’s to Chloe each month when the bad news came.

The waitress came back just as Chloe had taken Emily’s hand in hers giving it a squeeze, a pained look on her face.

“2 espresso martinis to start us off ” Emily exclaimed.

“no no not for me Chloe exclaimed. Just a white wine spritzer. I can’t take the hard stuff at lunch.

“Spoil sport” Emily pouted.

Their drinks came and they placed their orders for lunch, settling back to their prior conversation.

“Listen, Em, you’ll get there in the end. It’s just random luck you know. It took ages, you know like well over a year for Jamie and” she paused

“and what?”

“and nothing, I just mean it can take a while. I know it’s super frustrating but, you know it can’t be so bad doing the deed with him can it”

Emily giggled and blushed

 “Ok, ok you got me there. I’ll try to chill but I guess it’s just starting to grate and then I end up looking for advice on the internet and this morning I brought up his smoking ….”

“Oh! and how did that go?”

“badly I’d say, he got real defensive, then guilty. I was just so tetchy – my period came this morning and I’d started to hope some of my now obviously pre-menstrual symptoms were, you know, symptoms!”

“It’s such a bitch that they are basically the same symptoms right?” Chloe sympathised.

“thank god I have you to talk to.  I think I’d go completely crazy without you. So, do you think I overstepped mentioning his smoking? I guess I forgot that it took you a year to get pregnant with Jamie. Did you and John ever fall out over it?”

Chloe laughed a little nervously.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry….”

“hey, no it’s OK – where shall I start. Errm yes we fell out – I got kind of obsessed you know with the optimum conditions and he felt like I only wanted sex for making a baby you know.  It’s so hard to chill and not to wonder why it’s not worked but listen, it’ll probably just fall into place when you least expect it” Chloe looked away through the restaurant window, a frown crossing her face.

“You OK hun?” Emily asked, “you seem kind of distracted today”

“I guess I am, distracted I mean”

Emily looked questioningly at Chloe

“so what’s up”

“Hun, I have something to tell you and I know it’s not going to be easy and given what we’ve been discussing, it’s going to hurt …..”

Chloe’s eyes were filled with tears as she watched the realisation slowly dawn on Emily’s face.

“You’re pregnant aren’t you?”

Chloe nodded slowly reaching out her hand to Emily’s – Emily tried to pull away at first but Chloe grasped her fingers

“you know I didn’t do this to hurt you, we only just started trying….”

“you think that fact makes me feel better!?” Emily spat back at her, snatching her hand away now, anger flashing in her eyes

“no, no I just mean I thought about how it might be if I got pregnant first but after Jamie I was just sure you’d fall first and it wouldn’t be ….like this” she gulped down a sob “please don’t hate me Em!”

Emily took a shaky hold of her drink and gulped it down then just stared at the table for what seemed like several long minutes to Chloe. Emily battled with herself, wanting to run away and die in a ditch but knowing she needed Chloe too and she still had a tiny rational voice telling her this was just bad luck for her and not a deliberate act of spite by Chloe and John. She took a deep breath and looked Chloe in the eye at last.

“Congratulations” she smiled tightly. “I’m not gonna lie, this is , err painful for me but I know it shouldn’t be. Honestly, I’m happy for you, it will be great for Jamie to have a brother or sister”

“Thanks Em … I love you, you know?”

“I know” Em sniffed.

Their lunches arrived giving them the opportunity to just digest this new change in their lives. Eventually Emily spoke, sticking to the  same theme.

“So” Emily began “do you have any top tips for how I’m gonna make it through this without going completely bat-shit crazy?”

“not sure I’m the best person to ask somehow, given the amount of times I took ovulation tests and my temperature when we were trying with Jamie.

Emily chuckled.

“I’ve been telling myself not to go there but now it’s getting very tempting. Especially as I am pretty sure we’re gonna miss some opportunities soon coz Keanu’s off on a 6 week shoot in January.

“well I can’t stop you going there and I know only too well that telling you to relax is just stupid. But maybe just try to have as much other stuff going on to think about, you know. I’m not saying that it will make conceiving more likely, but it might just stop you going bonkers! And I know this doesn’t really apply to you, but we ended up deciding to spend a bunch of our savings on a trip – do you remember when we went to Paris and stayed in the Georges V?

“yeah, yeah I do – why did you think that would help?!”

“I think we just thought screw it, we deserve something nice and maybe fate’s sense of irony would grant us a pregnancy the minute we’d run our savings down and couldn’t really afford a child!”

“And did it work?”

“yeah I guess so, I think we went on that trip in the June and we were pregnant by end July!”

“maybe I should get Keanu to donate all his money to charity then!”

“nahhh don’t do that  - but hey a holiday might be a good thing. What else do you have going on?”

“I’ve got some re-writes on a couple of movies and Keanu’s TV thing is back on the table so I’ve got some deadlines to keep me busy”

Their lunch continued and they even went and did a little shopping in the upscale stores on Rodeo Drive. Emily was back home by 5 and Keanu arrived shortly after.

“Did you have fun sweetie” he asked “looks like you got in some retail therapy too, huh?” he said noting the bags on the floor.

“yeah thanks, I did” she said quietly

“you sure, you don’t look too happy ………… is Chloe OK?”

“Yup, Chloe is fine …… Chloe is pregnant!”

“oh!”

“yes, oh”

“I don’t know what to say”

“It’s OK, we didn’t fight or anything, in fact talking to her was useful  - but I can’t deny at first I wanted to curl up and die!”

“Come ‘ere” He pulled her into a tight hug.

“It’ll be OK hun, we’ll get there ……. And if we don’t we have each other right?”

Emily nodded sadly

“you don’t have to look so thrilled at the idea of just me!” he huffed

“sorry, I know you’re right and I love you, you know I do, but I, I just really want this you know and I’m not ready to think about it not happening, not just yet OK?”

“OK, me neither”

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New Beginnings Baby Drabble

New Beginnings Baby Drabble No2