#i figured maybe shes tryin to get him to sign something or sign up for something iDKkkk

[strcngergirls]

starter for @pumpkinstabs​

“You’re Michael, right?” Chrissy asked, holding the clipboard to her chest. Her smile was genuine and her tone was simply curious, but there was a hint of nervousness in her eyes as she spoke. Jason hadn’t had the nicest things to say about him, but nor did he have very nice things to say about most people. “I’m Chrissy.”

[a-multi-fandom-maniac]

Oblivious, Somehow

(gif credit: wheelersdealer)

Synopsis: While hanging out, you learn that Steve was unaware of your feelings for him regardless of the fact you’ve told him straight to his face (or: Steve is oblivious and you are shocked at how someone can be so unaware).

A/N: RAHH i’m so sorry this took so long, i got a job and it’s been taking up a lot of my time but i’ve been slowly working on this. it’s more of a drabble than a whole fic (me when i lie) but i hope you still enjoy🫶🫶 (low key i struggled so hard but i hope it’s not a disappointment💀)

——————————————————————————————————

If you were completely honest, you don’t know the hell you got to this point in the conversation with Steve.

You had decided to stop by the Family Video during your lunch break from work to see your friends. Upon entering the building, Robin was scrambling to get her things and leave.

“Hey…what’s got you in such a hurry?” You asked curiously with a small smile. You noticed Steve standing behind the counter as he sighs.

“She’s panicking about her girlfriend,” he answers. You assumed this has been going on for a while.

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Robin squeaked out, nearly out of breath and her face flushed as she pointed back at him, “Vickie called earlier and-and wanted to hang out-”

She stops herself while turning to face you, inhaling a concerning amount of air in less than a second before continuing.

“-but I don’t know what kinda ‘hang out’ it is! I mean what do I say what do I do-?!”

You grab her arms and place them by her side while giving her a look.

“Robin, take a breath. If you keep psyching yourself out you’re gonna end up having a meltdown.” You tried to get her to calm down. You then switch your gaze to Steve who had been uncharacteristically quiet during this whole exchange. He notices the change of attention and his eyes meets yours with a slight shake of his head, almost like he was spaced out.

You widen your eyes for a second and nod your head in Robin’s direction hinting at him to say something. He gets the hint while letting out a quiet ‘oh!’ as he clears his throat.

“Robin it’s gonna be fine! It seems likes she’s been liking hanging around you lately, so maybe she’s tryin’ to hint at something.” He offers with a small shrug. He’s been telling her this for nearly half an hour but they’ve gotten nowhere with it.

At his statement you look back at Robin, “See? Everything is going to be fine, you just can’t self sabotage yourself okay?” You tell her, “It’ll be fine.”

Robin slowly starts to nod while thinking, “Yeah, yeah you’re right! I’ll be fine! Why am I even worrying?” She lets out a nervous laugh as she grabs her bag. “Okay wish me luck, Steve are you sure you’re fine with closing yourself?” She stated more than asked.

He waves her off. “Robin I’ll be fine, besides I’m not the only one here.” He gestures to you standing next to the counter. You give a thumbs up and a smile.

“Okay, I’ll tell you how it goes!” She yells as she walks through the door. The store is silent now with just you and Steve inside. After a few beats of silence, you let out a quiet snort. Steve turned his head to look at you after hearing your laugh. He furrows his eyebrows and gives you a confused looks, “What’s funny?”

Still laughing a little you shake your head as your eyes remain closed before finally speaking.

“Nothin’, it’s just funny,” you laugh out. Steve’s head his facing you still, but his eyes look away and back at you trying to figure out what you were laughing about.

“What?” He asks again, growing more confused.

After calming down you let out a breath and look over at him, smiling a little.

“It kinda just reminds me of when I told you I liked you that one time.”

Steve’s eyes widen as he nearly chokes on air hearing your statement. After gaining his breath again he studies your face for any sign of joking.

“I’m sorry- what?”

It’s now your turn to look at him confused. You furrow your eyebrows as your eyes dance across the room for a second before settling on his figure.

“What?” You repeat back to him. What was with him right now? “Why are you freaking out?”

“You like me?” Steve asks completely floored. Well, more of a startled shout but regardless this was clearly something he didn’t know about.

“…yes?” You answer, finding yourself feeling confused as well.

“Since when?!”

“This isn’t new information, Steve!”

“Yes it is because I didn’t know!” He exclaims. He starts pacing while running his hands through his styled hair. “You can’t just drop that bomb on me.”

“What do you mean you didn’t know?”

Steve stood in front of you, his eyes wide as he opened his mouth to respond but no words making their way out. He threw his arms in the air and shrugged, his confusion now extremely visible.

“I don’t know! Why are you freaking out about this right now?” He responded, a hint of panic evident in his voice.

You just stare at him, disbelief morphing on your face not knowing whether to laugh or scream at him.

“Like I said,” you begin with a pointed and impatient tone, “this is not the first time I told you so I don’t know why you’re acting surprised.”

“You’ve never told me!” Steve squeaks as he says your name. He kept staring at you, and honestly it looked like there wasn’t a single thought behind his eyes.

Oh boy.

Shutting your eyes you took a deep breath in and out in an attempt to compose yourself. Eyes falling onto him once more, you move closer and lean on the counter.

“A few weeks ago, I was leaving your house because we had a little movie night. Robin couldn’t show up so it was just us,” you start explaining. Maybe if you described the night then it would ring a bell…but that was wishful thinking at this point.

“And..I don’t know I kinda just thought there was- something happening I guess?” Your statement sounded more like a question, suddenly feeling waves of embarrassment flood through your body. You look to gauge Steve’s reaction but find him staring at you intensely. He sees this and gently motions for you to continue.

“But anyways, as I was leaving I got this urge to blurt out what I was feeling. So I did-”

“I had a lot of fun, Steve.” Interrupting you, Steve begins to recite what you told him with an ‘aha’ look on his face. “And I just wanted to tell you that I really like you and hope we can do this again.” He finishes as he looks into your eyes.

“You left before I could respond,” Steve quietly says mimicking you and leaning on the counter. Your faces were suddenly closer together than they ever had, and made your breath hitch quietly.

“I really couldn’t tell if you meant that in a ‘friend’ way or a ‘more than friends’ way,” he air quotes with his fingers. He suddenly laughs a little, his brown eyes softening and looking at you.

“I guess now I know.”

You smile at him, heart swelling. Maybe you jumped the gun, after all he was right; you didn’t give him time to respond.

“I’m sorry, I probably should have followed up on it,” you sheepishly rest your face in your hands. “So now that you know, is it a good thing?”

Steve reaches his hand out to yours and gently pulls yours away from your face. Hands intertwined he brings them both up to his face and rests them on his cheek, his gaze never leaving yours. It almost felt like there was a buzz of electricity flowing from your hand to his own. As if everything fell into place and made sense.

“It’s a good thing.”

—————————————————————————

tagged: @bakugouswh0r3

[testingthewatersss]

Are you my Captain? Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, arguing, etc. Protective Steve is lowkey an asshole. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 2 1470 words fluff, angst, tension, comfort. 18+ MDNI

You each tell your own friends. That was the deal you made with Bucky when you finally got together. A year later and he's finally figuring out why you'd been so sure that you'd gotten the better part of the deal with Tony.

She wants him to not be hungry, but she doesn’t think her concern is going to be particularly helpful in achieving that goal- so, she just beams, and when they get into the car, asks him to pull through one of her favourite drive-throughs.

He obliges without a fight, and even orders himself a meal without her having to prompt.

They eat in the parking lot. Not rushing to get back to the tower now they’re already on their way.

And then, they arrive. They pull in to the underground garage and decide to head straight up to the suite they share.

They’re hand in hand and walking, and then—

Steve.

Their hands part instantly as they observe how he’s stood, anxiously guarding their door, with Natasha off to his right, clearly trying to make him reconsider his position.

Bucky grumbles something under his breath, and Y/N squeezes his hand, knowing how much he hates any kind of confrontation with the man.

“Hey, Cap—” she greets a little too loudly, “—Nat” she adds, “Isn’t it a little late for a surprise visit?”

Her sudden arrival and pleasant demeanour has clearly taken the duo off guard.

“I didn’t want to miss you gettin’ back” Steve says, “and I figured you might not come up through the front—.”

“You figured right” Bucky inserts, voice significantly less cheery,

“I didn’t know you were with her, Buck, you’re back late—”

“—We got food” he snaps, cutting the blonde, off, “I didn’t think I still had to ask for permission to do things like that.”

The sharpness in his words hits Steve like a slap. His posture changes instantly, and Natasha steps forwards, trying to alleviate the tension.

Y/N even relents, whispering out a “play nice” that only Barnes can hear.

He looks at her for a second and then sighs.

“Tony asked him to come pull me out of the office” Y/N explains calmly, “You know he’s weird about me driving in the dark, and we decided to make a detour to a drive through on our way back. If we’d have known you were waiting to ambush me again we’d have brought you some fries.”

The red haired woman laughs, and tries to hide the “I told you this wouldn’t work” on her face as she looks back on Steve.

It doesn’t work well at all, and Y/N ends up beaming at her in response.

“I just wanted to ask you again—”

“You can ask as much as you like” she says, “My answer isn’t going to change.”

“And you weren’t expecting Barnes—” Nat chimes in, “Now he’s here maybe you can just ask him instead.”

Y/N scoffs as Bucky stares at him, patience waining.

Steve is clearly uncomfortable. He hadn’t anticipated being caught like this;

“I… uh—“

“You wanted to ask me if I’m working for SHEILD—” Bucky says, irritated, “—I’ve told you a hundred times that I’m not.”

“Its not just SHEILD” Steve clarifies, “I know you haven’t signed up officially, Buck, but if they wanted to draft you as an—”

“Just say what you mean, Steve” Y/N commands, “You mean me— You’re asking if I have asked him to do anything off the books.”

“Have you?”

“I’m not answering that” she says indignantly, “I’ve told you it would be classified, frankly I’m a little insulted that you won’t just drop it—”

“That’s not a no” he fires back, “I—”

“It’s none of your business” Bucky says, “I’m a grown man, and all this sneakin’ around, turnin’ up at head-office, cornerin’ Y/N/N and tryin’ to get her to tell you my business needs to stop. You’re actin’ crazy, Steve.”

That takes him off guard. His jaw is slack, until it ticks, locking as he folds his arms over his chest.

“I’m just worried about you, Buck”

“Why?” he counters, “I’m safe, now, or at least that’s what everyone keeps tellin’ me. Should’t I be able to decide to just go away for a couple of days without having to report everything I plan on doin’ before I’ve even left? Shouldn’t I be able to go out to dinner without needin’ to tell you, first? I mean christ, shouldn’t you trust me to make my own decisions without checking them with you first?”

His voice is hurt now, and it takes everything in Y/N for her not to reach out and hold his hand to comfort him.

Natasha is clearly uncomfortable too. This is exactly what she’d been trying to avoid.

The silence following his outburst hangs in the air for a moment, until Steve looks up;

“So you are going out of town?”

Y/N mutters out a curse at the same time as Bucky as Natasha finally snaps,

“That’s what you took from that?!” she demands, “You are so—”

And then Y/N knows they’re going to start arguing. Properly arguing.

“Would you like to come inside?” she asks, loudly enough for the bickering duo can hear the invitation, “It’s a little crowded out here.”

Bucky nods, shouldering his way past a gob-struck Steve, who’s still trying to piece together why he’s so upset.

Natasha will explain it to him. Y/N knows she will, even if it takes all night for her to break down that he’s become so focused on answering his one, inane question that he’s lost sight of why he wants to know in the first place.

“He loves you” is the first thing that Y/N says when the door shuts with a click behind them, “a whole lot”

“He’s a punk” is Bucky’s jovial response, though she thinks his tone is still laced with upset.

When she looks at him properly, she can see the true hurt on his face. It tugs at her heartstrings until one almost snaps in her chest;

“C’mere” she sighs, relenting and opening her arms for a hug, “Maybe we should just tell him— ‘bout the mission, ‘bout us— all of it…”

Bucky shakes his head, before he ducks it against her shoulder.

His hands are clutching her waist, as he draws in a breath.

“It’s the principle, Y/N/N” he tells her, “He doesn’t trust me to make my own choices, he keeps actin’ like I’m a child or somethin’ and I’m not lettin’ him get into the habit of pesterin’ us for information.”

Her eyes roll at his stubbornness.

They’re much more similar than either of them realise, she thinks.

“Well, we could at least tell him there is an us” she barters, “That might be enough for right now?”

“He’s not asking about us” Bucky sighs, and again, she thinks he sounds awfully, sad, “He’s only interested in if I’m fighting or planning on fighting, doll, if he’d asked me anything, anything at all ‘bout us, or how I felt ‘bout anything other than SHEILD, or the tower, or the price of groceries then maybe I’d want to him to know—”

“You do want him to know” she counters, “I know he’s annoyin’ you right now, but he’s your brother, and you—”

“Want him to care about more than just where am I, or where I plan on going.”

“He cares” Y/N promises, stroking his back now, “He’s just worried, baby… I think he’s so paranoid about losing you again that he can’t focus on anything else.”

He doesn’t reply. He just holds her tighter as he sighs into her shoulder, tension starting to ease now that he’s safely away from the conflict.

“We’ll see what mood he’s in when Natasha’s finished with him” she chuckles, “I think she was about done with his attitude before that little performance…"

That makes him smile, small and hidden at the idea of Romanoff saying everything he's been thinking for weeks, now.

It might've been satisfying to watch if the situation wasn’t so sad.

If the idea of raised voices didn’t make him want to cower in some far away corner.

“You’re tired” Y/N notes again, tone firmer now, “Let’s go to bed?”

He hums noncommittally, and makes no attempt to move away from the embrace.

She laughs then, soft and gentle before she presses her lips against his head.

“C’mon, Baby” she presses, “You can have all the fussin’ you want once we’re in bed.”

He wants more ‘fussing’ than she could ever feasibly give him, but that doesn’t stop her trying.

It doesn’t stop her from covering him in extra dry cleaned blankets, and helping him arrange himself neatly against her flank so that she can turn onto her side to watch him.

To watch his expression melt all the way from shy, to adoring, and then, to plain old exhausted as she strokes his temple, tracing gentle circles across the delicate skin as he fights to keep his eyes open.

1 | x | 3

[puffpasstea]

OMGG you can do this whenever you feel like it but I have a request for satellite fluff. Maybe Alice is trying to do something nice and romantic for Harry as a gesture of her love, and maybe it doesn’t go exactly as she planned so she’s all frustrated and Harry comforts her and tells her that she tried her best and he appreciates her anyway??!? 🥹❤️

Hi lovie! Thanks for the request and for asking so politely; you're so nice! I hope you like this one. Please let me know what you think!

Warnings: Fluff, VERY SMALL mentions of smut.

---

The sound of a door slamming and Harry’s voice, cursing, “shit,” under his breath startled me out of my slumber. 

 

“Harry?!” I jumped, sitting up instantly. 

 

“I’m so sorry my love.” He tiptoed over to me, his voice just above a whisper. “That was me. I- was tryin’ to get my clothes out of the closet without wakin’ you.”

 

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, his hand gently squeezing my shoulder as he leaned in to kiss my lips. “It’s still early. Go back to sleep, honey.”

 

“Hmm.” I agreed. Relieved that everything was alright, I closed my eyes and let him tuck me back safely into the covers. He kissed my forehead sweetly before withdrawing out of the room. 

 

Harry had been overworking himself lately. Though, I think, one thing I quickly learned as soon as we got together, is that he did have a tendency to do that. He always overbooked his schedule; had a hard time saying no to anything; constantly overextended himself. I’ve yet to figure out where this stems from. Perhaps a fear of disappointing fans, or a feeling that he’s lucky to have the job that he does so it’d be ungrateful of him not to take every opportunity that he can, or a mix of both. Whatever the case may be, it was clear he’s been stressed lately. Leaving for work at ungodly hours, and coming home well past midnight, most nights, after I’d already gone to bed. 

It was all taking a toll on him, and he showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon. 

 

I’d been there myself, not too long ago, in fact. Last month was midterms season at the college, which meant that my workload had tripled, seemingly out of nowhere. Throughout it all, Harry always found ways to be supportive. Not all of them were obvious, either. For instance, he’d sneak into my office after I’d left for the night and organize my chaos into small piles of “needs grading”, “needs revision,” and “complete.” He'd leave me little messages on post-it notes around the room, for me to find throughout the day. He’d complain that he was “bored” and use it as an excuse to sneak in some time with me and bring me some snacks to  make sure I was eating. He’d wash my clothes; cook my meals with enough leftovers to be packed as lunch the next day; beg me to go out for a walk with him and get some sunshine; bring me flowers…. He even remembered my therapy appointments and set reminders for me to keep on track. When he heard that I was thinking about skipping out on therapy one week because “I just don’t have time for it this week” he forced me to go. Harry excelled at all of this. The supportive boyfriend role came naturally to him. Though all of these gestures would seem to be mostly practical; simply about keeping our life running smoothly and doing chores around the house, picking up slack, they made me feel so loved and cared for. None of these things included him actually saying the words “ I love you,” but I felt as though he had, every time. 

 

It was my turn now. I needed to step up and show him that I love him. But, unlike him, gestures of affection were entirely new to me. I didn’t have a knack for knowing what made people feel loved at any given moment. And, Harry was rich enough to just “throw” money at any inconvenience. No time to do laundry? Send it out. Too busy to find time for grocery shopping and cooking dinner? No worries, just dine out or order in, better yet, call up the personal chef! What do you give someone who already has everything they could ever want, or need? Where does that leave me as a partner?

I couldn’t believe I had stooped this low, but I went online and googled “everyday gestures of love,” almost throwing up in my mouth at how embarrassing this was. While some of the recommendations on the list involved things like “buy their favorite snack” that I didn’t need to do, there were a few ideas that I could get inspired by. Alright. I had some planning to do. I wanted this coming weekend to be the best couple of days that Harry has ever had. 

***

 

Friday night had rolled around, and I was ready to deliver. My plan was to be so ridiculously sweet and romantic with him that, if I were a literal edible sweet, I’d kill him with a sugar overdose. After much contemplation, I decided to make us dinner. Surprising him with all of his favorite things: shrimp pasta, that weird healthy salad he likes, wine, and finishing off with a heart shaped, raspberry-white chocolate cake. It was shaped like a heart. It was chocolatey, it was red, what’s more obnoxiously romantic than that? But that was only the beginning. I dressed up, hiding an elaborate (and frankly quite uncomfortable) little piece of lingerie under my dress. I lit candles, decorated the dining table with flowers, and I waited to surprise Harry as soon as he got home. 

 

What I didn’t expect, however, was just how long I’d have to wait. It was already 7 pm and Harry hadn’t come home yet. I checked my phone to see if he’d called or texted, but I had nothing from him. Perhaps I should text him? But I didn’t want to rush him. This was about being supportive and loving, not impatient and attention-seeking. So, I waited. Then I waited some more. Then, I fell asleep. In my tight dress, makeup, and lingerie. Right on the couch. 

 

It was almost midnight when I heard the shuffling of Harry’s feet as he walked  into the room. 

“Oh my god, Alice! Did- did we have plans? Did I just completely forget and stand you up? Baby, I’m so, so sorry!!” Harry rushed over to me, grabbing me in his arms. Even in the poorly-lit living room, I saw his heart drop, the dark circles under his eyes, his chapped lips. He was exhausted. 

 

“N-no, no. Harry, calm down.” I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. “We didn’t have any plans.”

“Oh.” His shoulders relaxed instantly. “You’re just dressed up, and….I’ve been so forgetful of everything lately, I just assumed-“

 

“Relax, Harry. Alright? I- umm. I made us dinner!” I said, springing to my feet. “You just stay right here. I’ll go get you a drink while the food heats up, okay?”

 

Harry’s lips parted, he was ready to protest. I stuck my finger out, pressing it to his lips. “Hush. Don’t wanna hear it. Just take a breather, okay? I’ll be right back.”

 

I got the oven started, turned on the stove, and set out the cake. Pouring Harry a drink, I began to feel nervous. Okay, so, the pages online said to be cheery. Ask him about his day. Listen to what he wants to talk about. Give him compliments. Play with his hair. Those are the things that he can’t buy with money. I can do that. Sounds simple enough. 

 

In the living room, Harry looked like he was ready to doze off. I stood over him with his drink in my hand, not sure if he was even awake. Then he stirred. 

 

“H-hey. Sorry, nearly fell asleep.” He smiled, reaching his hand out for the glass I’d brought him. “The lighting in here is making me sleepy.” I was going for romantic but okay. 

 

“I’ll turn the lights on, sorry.” I rushed to the light switches around the walls, turning them on one by one. “Better?” Harry nodded taking a sip of his drink. I shook my nervous off and sat next to him, rubbing his thigh gently as he drank. “S-so, how was your day?” Mentally, I checked “ask about his day” off the list.

 

“It was fucking torture. Had all these meetings all day, none of which went well. By the time I got to the studio most people had already left, but I didn’t want this day to be an absolute waste so I tried to get some work done, but- it just- it wasn’t happening! I kept pushing through the frustration but- everything I wrote was horrible-“

 

As Harry went on venting about his day, I tried to focus and be present in the moment, but my mind quickly drifted off to my role in all this. What was I supposed to say? What would he want to hear right now? I asked myself what Harry would say to me if the tables were turned. I tried to remember the tips I’d read online. Before I knew it, I was zoning out and completely missing what he’d said. 

 

“Well, uh, you’re home now. So, that’s all that matters.” I  smiled reassuringly and took the glass out of his hand, setting it on the end table. I jumped in his lap. “Just relax, okay?” brushing my fingers through his hair and feeling him relax at the gesture. Yes! Finally, some success. He nodded sluggishly, a hum reverberating in his throat.

 

“’S nice.” His eyes fluttered shut as he rested his head against the couch cushion, releasing the tension from his shoulders. “Thank you for being here.” He mumbled, smiling up at me. “Kiss me, please?”

 

What started out as gentle kissing quickly heated up into more steamy territory. Harry’s arms desperately wrapped around me, as if worried I might escape. His tongue pushed against my lips, moaning into my mouth. Eventually, his hips were pushing up against mine, his clothed crotch looking for friction. “A-Alice,” he whined. “I-need- I’m a mess.” He confessed, blushing and hiding his face in my neck. “It’s not gonna take much.” His hips bucking up again, pushing his center against mine. “Please?”

 

“Been a while, hasn’t it?” I smiled, curling the ends of his hair around my finger.

 

“Mhm. I’m so, so close. It’s actually quite humiliating, but- ahh,” He gasped as our bodies collided. “Please? help?” 

 

It’s not that I wanted to be cruel. Not at all. But Harry’s desperate hands squeezing all over my body reminded me of my plan. I’d dressed up for this. Shaved my body head to toe. Cooked. That’s not when the plan says to have sex. Plus, I had the oven going. I was too in my head to register Harry’s trembling, or the fact that my squirming and scrambling to get off his lap had rubbed enough on his groin to give him the most painful and underwhelming ruined orgasm ever. He moaned in pain as I jumped off of him.

“Wait, it’s time to eat!” I rushed into the kitchen, leaving Harry behind to deal with the waves of pain hitting his body. 

 

At dinner, Harry said nothing about the table decor, or the flowers. In fact, when I looked down at his plate, he’d hardly taken a bite. 

 

“I-is everything alright?” I looked at him; he seemed like he was falling asleep right at the table. 

 

“Yeah, mhm. All good.” He smiled, swirling his fork around.

 

“You’re not eating.”

 

“No, I am. I promise.”

 

“What? Does the food not taste good?” I  reached over and took a bite out of his plate, seeing if I could taste anything wrong. It seemed fine to me.

 

“The food’s great! I love that you made my favorite dishes. It’s so sweet of you. You definitely didn’t have to.” Harry forced a smile on his face, consciously squeezing his eyes open.

 

“What’s the matter then?”

 

“Well- it’s nothing. I just- I kind of already ate. Just before I got here actually. I…I thought you’d be asleep. Didn’t know you had a whole thing planned. I’m sorry. But I can still eat! It’s fine!”

 

“Why didn’t you say anything?!!”

 

“Honey, I tried to. When you said you’d made dinner, I was trying to tell you, but you just got out of the room so fast. It seemed important to you. And…like, you’ve put in all this effort. It’s okay, really. I always have room for pasta!” Harry went to dig his fork into his plate, but I reached over and grabbed it. 

 

“It’s fine, Harry. You don’t have to eat if you’re full. That’s ridiculous. Let’s just go to bed.” It was kind of him to want to do it for me, but it was entirely unnecessary. 

 

“Are you sure? I mean, you made all this food, and-“

 

“I made it because I thought you’d be hungry when you came home. Cuz I was trying to make sure you ate something. Not because I wanted to force feed you. You’ve eaten! You’re all set. That’s all the matters. That you’re looking out for yourself. Let’s just go.”

 

Relief washed over his featured as he set down his silverware. “Okay.”

***

 

At least I had one last trick up my sleeve, though if I weren’t so caught up in trying to make this night work, I might have had the presence of mind to know that saving this trick for another day is perhaps the wiser choice. I unzipped my dress and walked out of the bathroom. Harry had barely taken off his shoes. His feet dangled off the bed as his lower half hung over the edge. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes already half-closed. Before I could turn back around and put on a robe, he noticed me. 

 

“W-wow. You look- wow.”

 

His speechlessness made my cheeks flush.

 

He got off the bed and reached for me.

 

“No.” I pushed him back down. “Stay right where you are. Let me take care of everything this time.”

 

“wait, babe- before we-” Harry hissed.

 

“Don’t worry about it, Harry.”

 

“I- ah, I need to- I gotta tell you something-“ 

 

I unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down his legs by the hips. Harry grabbed my wrist as I hooked my fingers into the waist band of his boxers. “This is gonna sound- wait-“

 

I yanked them down in one swift motion. It was more aggressive than sexy. In my head, the assertiveness was meant to be hot. But it certainly didn’t look, or feel, that way. 

 

I saw the wet stain on the front of his boxers and looked up at him with tight lips and eyebrows quirked up. 

 

“It’s not- gosh, it’s not what it looks like, I promise. It’s-“

 

“Hey, I’m not judging. Like I said earlier, it’s been a while since we’ve….you know. You gotta do what you gotta do sometimes. I just think…I mean, maybe next time pack a spare-“

“W-wait, what? No! God, no! That’s not- what am I? some kind of animal? Jesus, Alice!” Harry blushed, looking away for a moment, then back at me. “This…it just happened earlier. On the couch?”

 

“What?”

 

“Yeah…told you it’s embarrassing, but, I don’t know. I got a bit too excited I guess, and, when you left to check on the food…you were a bit rough and…it’s- whatever. I- wanted to go change, but-“

 

“I did this to you?”

 

“C-can we not…I don’t know. Can we not talk about it?” He giggled.  I’ve always thought of myself as a free and comfortable guy, but- I guess admitting to your girlfriend about prematurely finishing in your pants brings out the worst in a man.” He licked his lips nervously.

 

“I’m so sorry, Harry- I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I wanted to make you feel good!”

 

“I know; I know, baby. It’s okay. It was- god, I mean, this is sexy, huh? It was an accident.” He laughed, reaching for my necklace and fiddling with it anxiously. 

 

“Well, let me make it up to you.” I leaned in to kiss him. Harry pecked my lips quickly and pulled back. “Actually…Could we- maybe not? Not tonight. I’m feeling… im just a bit tired. Just wanna rinse off in the shower and go to sleep.”

 

“Oh.” I scampered off of him, gently, this time, and helped pull his clothes back on. “Of-course. Yeah…yeah, that’s a good idea.” I was aware that I sounded as though I was trying to convince myself that I was okay with this.  “Ummm..” I looked around the room to avoid his eyes. “Let me, just, wash off my makeup and you can go into the bathroom, yeah?”

 

“Take your time baby.” He gave me a tired smile and rested his head back down onto the bed. 

 

I understood why he’d turned down sex, and I certainly never wanted him to feel uncomfortable saying no, or feel like he had to sleep with me whenever I wanted, but even with all that in mind, I couldn’t help but feel a bit rejected. I took a deep breath and stood frozen in front of the mirror, watching my face for any signs of disappointment. I didn’t want him to feel guilty for having said no. But this was about more than the sex. It was about the fact that this night was looking nothing like I had planned it. All I wanted was to wrap him up in my love and appreciation and make sure he knew that he had a soft place to fall when things got to be too much. Somehow, I’d done the exact opposite. I was a failure as a partner. I mean, what does it say about me if I’m only good at receiving love, not giving it? Doesn’t that put a lot of pressure on the person cursed with having to be with me?  I was back at square one. Not knowing how to communicate my love for him. 

 

A sudden, piercing noise snapped my thread of thought in half. I ran out of the bathroom in a panic. “What is that?!” 

“It’s…the fire alarm” Harry yelled out over the sirens. “But I haven’t heard it in years.”

 

Fuck. My stupid cake. 

“Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuckkkk.” I rushed downstairs cursing and yelling. 

 

The kitchen and dining area were barely visible behind the black smoke. “SHIT!” I ran into the kitchen and turned the oven off; leaping to open ever window on the floor. My eyes were watering, my lungs filled with smoke, I struggled to breathe.

 

Moments later, Harry appeared behind me, speaking on the phone.  “No, sir. I promise. All is well. Just a cooking accident. Yes, I’m sure. It’s- it’s no big deal. Not at all please don’t bother. We’re okay there’s no reason you should drive out here at this hour. Yes. Thanks. Good night.”

 

I ran back into the kitchen with oven mitts, pulling out the flame-roasted remains of what was once my romantic gesture. Tears ran down my face and onto the black sludge in the pan.

 

“What was it in the oven, anyway?” Harry followed me, clueless.

 

I turned around, holding the cake in my hands and showing it to him. “My black, loveless heart is what it was!” I broke down sobbing.

 

“Oh, honey….” Harry looked down at the pan and back up at me with pity. “Don’t cry! What is that?”

 

“Cake! What else would it be, Harry?”

 

“I don’ know, Matilda, S’ kinda hard t’ tell at this point…” He laughed.

 

“I’m glad this is funny to you! Go ahead and laugh at my failure!” My screeching had reached fire-alarm levels of high pitched. 

“I’m sorry. Okay, you’re right. I shouldn’t be laughing. Ummm, why don’t you set that down so I can give you a hug, hmm?”

 

I did as he suggested and ran straight into his arms. He pulled me into him, rubbing my back and whispering in my ear. “we’re okay. It’s all good, babe. It’s okay.” We stood there  for a while, long after my sobbing had quieted down. “Thank you for my cake, baby.” Harry broke the silence, chuckling. I elbowed him right in the chest but it only made him hug me tighter and laugh harder. “Looks delicious. Really, I can’t wait to dig into it. Jus’ if I may, uh, what…flavor is that supposed to be?” 

 

He managed to make me laugh.

 

“There she is! Yes, no more crying.” He kissed my cheek.

 

“I’m so sorry, Harry.” 

 

“Hey, it’s alright.”

 

“Not it’s not!”

 

“It’s just a cake, Alice….”

 

I pulled my body out of his arms and sat at the kitchen table. “N-no it’s not! The cake is a metaphor.”

 

“I’m sure it is, baby. But- it’s late, and I’m tired. Explain to me?”

 

“It’s…it’s just the perfect example of my failures tonight. All I wanted was to be romantic! I wanted to cook for you, and love on you, and….” I reached over the kitchen table and handed him a piece of paper.

 

“Love, intimacy, time…” He read out loud. “What’s this?”

 

“It’s a list! Of relationship things you can’t buy with money.”

 

“th-that’s sweet-“

 

“I wanted to give you those things. All weekend. I did my research. You know, about all the healthy things that romantic people do?”

 

“R-research?”

 

“You’re just so good at the lovey-dovey stuff. I always feel so loved and valued whenever you do things for me. I wanted to do the same for you.”

 

“Babe, you did research for me?”

 

“I know, it’s pathetic! I’ve just…never done this before. Loved someone like I love you. Nothing ever feels enough, I…wanted you to feel my love for you. Wanted to take care of you like you always take care of me.”

 

Harry rushed over to me, pressing our lips together firmly. “I love you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” I whispered against his mouth.

 

“I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He pulled away and grabbed the chair next to me, moving it closer so he was mere inches away, and sitting down. “Listen to me! No, I mean it. I’m the luckiest man in the world…I’m so glad you were thinking of me. I can see that. Really. All the effort you put in? You made me a heart-shaped cake, for fuck’s sakes!” 

 

“Wanted you to feel loved, to rest, to eat a balanced meal. But I burned your house down.”

 

“the effort that you put into burning my house down is what matters.” He laughed at his own words, shaking his head. “Baby, listen. I love that you did all this for me, but you don’t have to try this hard. I certainly wouldn’t want you to do things that don’t feel natural to you, just to make me happy. It’s okay, if you’re not into all this over the top stuff. I don’t expect you to suddenly become someone else just cuz we’re dating now. That’s not who I fell in love with anyway.”

 

“B-but, what about you? Don’t you wish you had someone to spoil you like you always spoil me?”

 

Harry shook his head. “The way I see it, we don’t both have to need the same things, you know? Like, I only do those things because I know that’s what you need to make your life easier, and to make sure you’re safe. What I need looks different, and that’s okay. I don’t cook for you one night then expect you to cook for me the next one. That’s just not how it works.”

 

“H-how does it work, then? W-what do you need?”

“You. No, I’m serious. I’m so happy right now, all I wanna do is kiss you. Because you just said you loved me. Twice in the last 5 minutes. You almost never say ‘I love you.’ I always do it first, and then you say ‘I love you, too.’ Hearing it come from you, unprompted? I’m on cloud nine! Would’ve just been happy calling it a night as soon as I came home, and cuddling in bed with you. You’re the person I want to see at the end of the day. Just wanted you to hold me, and to hear about your day, or just talk about mine. Nothin fancy. Just you and me.”

 

“And I was too caught up with online tips and white chocolate- raspberry cake, and perfect bedroom sex…”

 

“I LOVE that. I do. Shows me that you love me. Now, every time I’m feelin’ down I can just think about this night and I’ll never have to wonder if I’m enough for you. You’ve given me so much just by trying. I mean, you did research just to make me happy! If that’s not romantic, I don’t know what is.”

 

“It’s the thought that counts?”

 

“exactly.”

 

“Hey, Harry?”

 

“Yes, darlin’?”

 

“I love you.”

[nsokolow]

Little Weasel, Big City: Chapter 15

“I’m telling you, Leilani, it’s kinda nice to see a familiar face here. Now I might have one at work!” Travis commented as he pulled away from the curb.

“Oh, right! Thanks!” Leilani, who sat next to him, gave him a quick nod.

“So, Travis, uh, when are we gonna be there? This farm’s gotta be a good deal away from this area, since it’s full of buildin’s and cement and stuff.” Duke picked up an open bag of chips and ate from it.

“I’m gonna drive us to the train station, then we’re gonna take the train to Meadowlands. I’ll call a rideshare service to pick us up after our train ride,” replied Travis.

“Huh, haven’t been on a train in a while,” Duke remarked though a mouth full of chips.

“Really? How come?” Leilani looked back at Duke.

Duke shrugged. “Eh, just haven’t had a reason to. I was busy tryin’ to make it big time.”

“Well, you might succeed this time, Duke. This Daring Do job pays pretty well. Some of the animals there are kinda scary, and I ain’t in love with the commute, but it pays well. Besides, I don’t have to be at the farm very often.”

“I do need money! I’m so glad to hear that!” Leilani exclaimed. Her heart swelled with pride at her acting skills.

“Great!” Travis approached a STOP sign.

“Hey, Travis, do you mind if I turn on the radio?” Leilani asked.

“Yeah, sure. Just don’t change none of my presets.”

“Yeah! Let’s jam out!” Duke threw his fists in the air. “What kind of music are ya into anyway, Lei?”

“Well, usually pop or country; singers like Gazelle and Taylor Sheep.” Leilani began flipping through radio stations.

“Oh, I like those two! I’m partial to rock and rap. My favorite rappers are Lil’ Yakky and Kodak Bear. I kinda like Emu Nem, too.”

“Wait, you don’t know what kind of music each other likes? How long have you two even known each other? I mean, you’re married!”

Leilani stopped pressing the button. “Uh…well…honestly, we haven’t really known each other that long, but, when you know, you know! You know?”

Leilani saw Duke raise his eyebrows.

“Oh, well, I guess I get it. On me and my ex’s first date, we talked about what kind of music we liked. Maybe that’s unusual. I dunno.”

Leilani pressed the button two more times and stayed on a station that played a Gazelle song. A first date. Something she never had with Duke. She liked Duke, and she was pretty sure he liked her too. After all, he liked her enough to marry her, so he must have seen something in her. Despite his shiftiness, he cared enough to tell her that he contributed to the plantings of Daring Do. She suddenly wanted to have a first date with him so much. To just have fun together without her trying to get her new life together or them trying to figure out where some strange plants came from.

“Wow! This is awesome!” Duke, on the train, laughed as he grabbed onto a pole and swung around it. “I should do this more often! I don’t even care how long it’ll take until we get there! This is awesome!”

Leilani, standing at a pole next to him, had a hearty chuckle at his excitement over something nobody else seemed to care about.

“Hey, weasel!”

Leilani and Duke both pricked up their ears. They turned around and saw an elephant sitting down.

“Yeah, you with the black getup! Instead of taking your meds like I suggested, you got yourself a boyfriend to act stupid with!”

Travis dropped his mouth open as he looked back and forth between the weasels and the elephant.

“We just started takin’ our meds but they ain’t gonna take affect for a while. It’s called Get-A-Life-Exitine!” Duke took his toothpick out of his mouth and flicked it at the elephant’s trunk.

The elephant grunted and returned to her phone.

Leilani stared at Duke and slowly smiled. “Wow! That was awesome!” Leilani walked over to him and held onto the same pole.

“Oh, uh, well, thanks!” Duke softly chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, he was a jerk, and I ain’t crazy about ableism. I mean, I know you ain’t disabled, not that that’s an insult.”

Leilani continued to smile as she narrowed her eyes. “Well, I appreciate it.”

Duke sighed. “Listen, Lei, I’ve been thinkin’…maybe once we have time and everything, and once I get my first paycheck, I could…take you out somewhere? My boss said the paychecks come every Friday.”

Leilani’s heart jumped. “Oh, uh, yeah! Sure! I mean, we don’t have to wait until you get money; we could do a picnic or go to the beach or something.”

“Well, uh, great! How about a picnic?”

“Great!” Leilani grinned and held a thumb up.

Far away in the meadow, Leilani saw rows of brown and neon green, accompanied by what was either a white tent or house.

“Is that the place?” Leilani asked.

“Yup,” replied Travis, “Come on. I’ll introduce you to the folks.”

Leilani inhaled and exhaled a trembling breath. This is actually happening. We’re actually going through with this. No going back—

She suddenly felt Duke’s paw on her shoulder.

Duke grimaced and gave a small, high-pitched laugh. “We’ll be okay!”

Leilani took a deep breath before they followed Travis down the hill and to the farm.

“Hey y’all! I’m back! Got some prospective coworkers with me.” Travis announced.

The array of animals watering the rows of Daring Do looked up from their watering cans.

“So…how prospective are they?” A deer narrowed his eyes and pointed a hoof at the clearly nervous weasels.

“Oh, pretty prospective. They just got married, and they’re in desperate need of money.”

“Yeah!” Duke put his arm around Leilani and walked ahead of Travis. “You ain’t got no idea how much my wife and I need this job! We’ve really hit upon hard times!” Duke’s anxious demeanor quickly calmed. “So, you got like, a manager we can talk to or somethin’?”

The deer rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. I’ll go take you two to our manager.”

[heynikkiyousofine]

Nov. 7th, 2022 InuPrompts: Direction

Good Directions and Sweet Tea

read me on ao3

Inuyasha bit into the pork rind, the crunch satisfying to his ears as the summer sun scorched his skin. I’m gonna need to invest in some sunscreen if this sunshine don’t go away anytime soon. Sitting in the back of his blue pick up truck, he stared out at his ranch, admiring the wild horses that had come to graze along his fenceline.

Flicking his ears, he caught the gentle purr of a sports car headed his way. Glancing down the road, he was shocked to see a cherry red convertible driving towards him with hollywood on the license plate, but what caught his attention was the beauty driving it. Who is that?

She had dark locks that blew about in the wind, the black blue shade unique to anyone around here. Her eyes were hidden behind large round sunglasses, but he could see the tiny freckles splashed across her nose as she pulled to a stop, just a few feet away from him.

He waited, watching her lick her lips before giving him a heart stopping smile and waving him over. Leaping down from the back of his truck, he hoped he didn’t appear too rough after a long morning doing chores around his place. She must think I’m redneck or somethin’ with the way I look.

“Howdy ma’am, what can I do ya for?” He asked politely, not wanting to scare the woman away.

“Hi! I’m so glad I found you!” She lifted her sunglasses, revealing a pair of chocolate eyes that he could spend the rest of his life swimming in. “I’m lost and looking for the interstate. Could you give me directions?” She sure is gorgeous.

“I’m the man for the job.” Inuyasha grinned, flexing his muscles as he leaned against her car. She blushed, her smile broadening and he wondered if he had died and gone to heaven. “Alright, so stay on this road and keep goin’ til ya get to a caution light. On the corner, there’s a lil’ country store with an old coke sign. Old Kaede runs it and she makes the best sweet tea in this region, so before ya head back to where ya goin’.”

She nodded enthusiastically, listening to his every word.

“Once ya do that, take a left and it’ll take straight back to the interstate. Ya can’t miss it.” He pointed with his thumb in the general direction. “If ya take a right, you’ll end up comin’ right back here to me.”

“Oh, thank you so much. You’ve been a big help!”

The woman quickly waved goodbye, turning her volume up, the pop music fading as she drove away. Pulling his ratted ball cap from his back pocket, Inuyasha growled. I should’ve asked her name at least. I doubt I’ll ever see her again, but it would’ve nice to know the woman I’d be dreamin’ about tonight. Fuck, I could’ve been in love. Maybe I could catch on up to her…

He knew well that his old Ford wouldn’t run her down, thinking she probably didn’t like him anyhow. She was just being polite to a complete stranger. Giving the road one last glance, he sighed as she disappeared into a cloud of dust. Deciding to eat his lunch, Inuyasha cracked open a beer as he settled back on the tailgate.

A half hour passed and before he knew it, the cherry red convertible was driving towards him once more. This heat must be playin’ tricks on me. There’s no way in hell the woman of my dreams is comin’ back to me.

He waited silently, his body tense as she turned off her engine and stepped out, revealing the perfect figure in jean cropped shorts and a simple tee shirt, the woman holding two large cups in her hands. Swallowing, he slowly rose to his feet, his amber eyes colliding with hers, his heart pounding in his chest.

“So, um, I stopped and asked Miss Kaede for her sweet tea.” She held one out for him, smiling softly. “I had this strange feeling, that something felt right and she sent me back here to you.”

“Thanks for the tea.” He laughed, knowing his neighbor probably had a plan up her sleeve. Kaede’s known for always tryin’ to set me up. “I’m Inuyasha, by the way.”

“I’m Kagome.”

“Would you like to come in?” He offered, unsure of what to say next. She nodded, biting her lip and he suddenly had the urge to kiss her. Deciding to walk her inside, figuring the kissing could later, he glanced up at the southern sky. Thank kami for good directions and sweet tea.

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[lostinthewiind]

Omggg can u do a super bold and flirty asf reader x Asahi where she just keeps on tryin to get him on a date and make him confess to her?? My mans never gonna recover from her flirt attacks

Flirtatiously Flustered

A/N: my first Asahi fic! Don't know why it took me this long to write something for him because he is such a soft boi and deserves the world. Thank you for requesting, I love this idea!

Rating: PG

Warnings: pushy flirting

Spotting the tall figure with brown hair tied back into a bun in the hallway up ahead, you smile wide to yourself before jogging to catch up. As you fell into pace beside Asahi, you intertwined your fingers with his and flashed your toothy grin up at him.

"So when are you going to finally work up the nerve to ask me out, Asahi?" you inquired, much too casually if you asked him—but that was the point. You loved watching the gentle giant blush when you shamelessly flirted with him, especially in front of his friends.

Suga, who was always pushing Asahi to take you up on your many offers for a date whenever you weren't around, nodded along in agreement. "Practice ends at seven tonight," he casually said, a hint to both you and Asahi. "You'll be free after that, won't you, Asahi?"

Asahi, who was bright red at that point and looking anywhere but at you or his friend, slipped his hand out of yours and nervously scratched at the back of his neck. "I, ugh . . . I think I have some homework to do after practice."

If you didn't know any better, you would have taken Asahi's many gentle declines to hang out as a sign and backed off. However, you did know better, thanks to Suga and Daichi. Asahi had had a crush on you since the two of you had met in your first year of high school and his best friends had made you aware of this fact when they realized that if the two of you were ever going to have a chance of being together, the ball would have to be in your court. Asahi was simply too nervous and bashful to ever ask you out . . . but what you hadn't anticipated was that he would actively turn down all of your advances.

But because you harboured an undying crush on the gentle giant in return, you weren't so easy to give up.

"I have some homework I need to do too." You were quick on your toes, always ready to change the plan and come up with alternatives in response to whatever Asahi could possibly try and use as an excuse. "Maybe we could do it together? I could use some help with my math."

Daichi, who was walking ahead of the two of you beside Suga, looked back over his shoulder with a grin. "Asahi is great at math."

"Perfect!" You nodded happily before turning back to Asahi, who was still averting your gaze. "So I'll meet you at the front gate at seven and we can head to my house to study?"

"W-well I don't know if my parents would want me to miss dinner," he stumbled over his words, clearly trying to make up another way out of your carefully made plans to finally hang out, just the two of you.

You chuckled. "Well, I'm not going to let you starve, silly! I can cook something after we study. What's your favourite food?"

"Asahi loves tonkotsu ramen," Suga answered on behalf of his friend.

"Good choice!" You beamed before realizing it was time to head to your next class. "Well, I've got to be off. I'll meet you at the front gate after your practice for studying and dinner, Asahi. It's a date!"

You didn't miss the furious blush that spread over Asahi's features at the mention of the word 'date.' As much as you would have loved to stick around and bask in the adorableness of him being flustered, you knew better than to leave him any chance to find another way to back out and took off with your victory tightly in your grasp.

Finally, after months of pestering Asahi, you had managed to capture him. Now all you had to do was capture his heart.

Just as you had planned, you stayed around after school to get a head start on some of your homework while you waited for volleyball practice to end. At seven, you headed to the front gates and about ten minutes later, when you saw Asahi's form in the distance coming toward you, you seriously thought you might have been dreaming.

In all honesty, you had expected him to sneak out the back of the gym after practice and leave you hanging. The fact that he had actually shown up made your heart flutter. After months of being turned down, a little part of you had begun to believe that maybe he didn't have a crush on you anymore—or maybe he never had—but the sight of him shyly smiling and waving at you sparked hope inside you.

"You came." You smiled back.

Adjusting the volleyball bag strap on his shoulder, Asahi nodded. "Of course. I would never stand you up."

"Stand me up, huh?" You cocked a brow. "You're making it sound like this actually is a date."

The tips of Asahi's ears reddened. "Well . . . well that's what you said earlier so I just assumed . . . unless you don't want-"

"Asahi, relax." You reached out and placed your hand on his bicep. "I'm just messing with you. It can be a date if you want, or not if you don't. I'm just happy you finally agreed to hang out with me. I was beginning to think you hated me."

Asahi's soft eyes grew wide. "I could never hate you!" he exclaimed.

"That's good to hear." You turned on your heel and started down the sidewalk. "Well, now that that's sorted, let's head to my place. I'm starving, and you must be hungry after practice. Maybe we should eat first and then study."

Walking beside you, his tall frame towering over you, Asahi nodded in agreement. "I am pretty hungry. I didn't eat much today."

"How come?"

The corners of Asahi's lips slowly curled upward. "Too nervous."

You tilted your head. "About what?"

"This." His voice was quiet and just barely audible. He looked down at you. "You."

This time, it was your turn to blush. "Asahi, can I ask you something?" You shifted closer to him as the two of you continued to walk.

"Of course."

"How come you always said no and made excuses when I wanted to hang out?" you asked, not fully prepared for the answer you might receive. "If you don't like me, you can tell me, you know. I can take it."

Asahi swallowed hard and as you turned a corner onto your street, his hand brushed against yours. "To tell you the truth . . . I was too worried I'd mess everything up," he said. "Nobody has ever liked me the way you have. Girls are usually too scared of me. I'm tall and I look old and intimidating. I don't have any experience."

This hadn't been the response you were expecting, but it made complete sense. It made your heart hurt for this sweet, kind boy who was never anything but nice to everyone and anyone. You thought it was completely unfair that his appearance affected how others treated him so much.

When Asahi's hand brushed against yours once more, you took it in yours and intertwined your fingers like you had earlier that day. This time, Asahi didn't pull his hand away. "Well, on the bright side, that means I get you all to myself," you told him. "If everyone knew just how amazing you are, I'd have so much competition. You probably wouldn't have ever looked my way that first day of high school during the entrance ceremony."

"That's not true," Asahi disagreed.

You smiled. "So can I take it this means you do still like me?"

A soft shade of crimson spread across Asahi's face and down his neck. "Y-yes."

You chuckled as you reached up and poked Asahi's red nose with the tip of your finger. "Has anyone ever told you that you're adorable when you're flustered?"

Asahi blushed even harder. "No." He paused. "But I like it when you do."

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day four of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! Today’s prompt was Sunglasses!

Steve has a lot of secrets. Too many probably.

Most teenagers’ secrets are things like sleeping with the wrong people, smoking the cheap shit the jocks pass out, broken curfews and failing grades. He’s got all of those too, but Steve's secret runs much deeper than that.

His is the kind of secret that’d have men in black suits coming to take him away, or at this point, more than a decade after letting him go in the first place, putting a bullet in the back of his skull and calling it a day before any trouble comes up.

He’s been stuck in Hawkins all his life. Been fed the knowledge about the world off a silver spoon he didn’t ask for. His first five years of life are well forgotten to shock therapy and to the lab, where they intended to use him and the rest of the kids like him as weapons. Pawns in their big game of life.

But Steve was different. He could turn his powers off, make them undetectable by the machines they hooked him up to. They thought he was just a failure, so after so long, they wiped his brain with their very own cocktail of drugs and just let him go. Adopted him out to a middle aged dink couple who wouldn’t run their mouths about where their little bundle of joy came from as long as their pockets were lined with enough hush money, and that was that.

It didn’t take long for them to realize though, that he wasn’t as normal as they had been convinced he was. Not even knowing he was doing anything wrong, little Stevie would have outbursts, or small tantrums as momma always tried to convince everyone who told her Steve was too much for her to handle.

These weren’t just normal crying fits though. Anyone who got near him would be just as sad or scared or frustrated as he was. A single sob from that boy had enough power to crack the foundations of the family home.

Most kids when they have a cranky morning will get on the nerves of their parents, but Steve could disrupt the whole neighborhood without even realizing it. And that was his power.

They didn’t have a name for it, really. The range of what he can do is too broad, too undefined by anything else. There was a telekinetic girl, a pyrokinetic he’s pretty sure is dead now. But Steve was just special. Part of what made it so easy to go under their radar was this, but it also made him a risk.

The only reason he wasn’t immediately reported and given back to the bad men was the power this frail boy carried. It scared Ruthie and John, and they decided that they’d rather face the men at that lab again than a seven year old who could accidentally destroy them with his emotions.

So they kept him, and certainly kept their distance. They forced him into a little mold of how to behave properly and made him take pills to weaken his powers. They send him to behavioral therapy and make him act like he’s not a failed government experiment. A fact which he only learned a couple of years ago after his pills worked a little too well at messing with his memory that he forgot to take them, and memories came flooding back.

For the same reasons, Steve’s bored of being careful. Bored of following all the rules and being passive, just pretending he’s like everyone else so mommy and daddy dearest are safe. He starts getting a little riskier, testing what he can do, since this is the first time he’s ever really had control over his ability. He finds a link with other people and their emotions, something of an empathy power, but he doesn’t get far in his research, because his plan very quickly goes to shit when Billy Hargrove rolls into town.

Where to begin with Billy. That boy makes him feel all sorts of things he never even considered. The very first day he showed his unimpressed (but very impressive) face at Hawkins high, Steve cracks his windshield. Oops.

He was able to tap into that control and tone it down, but that reserve dwindled the more he’s around Billy, and from there it just spirals. Bending the basketball hoop on accident, exploding light fixtures, giving everyone in the school headaches. It gets to the point where Steve has to come to terms with the fact that he had a crush on Billy, and that he has to do something to get it back under his control before somebody gets hurt.

That and he doesn’t want to get caught now. He just got back into the swing of using his powers before Billy interrupted his calm. Going back there, or whatever else might happen, is the last thing he wants for himself.

He settles for a pair of ray bans.

It’s stupid, but when Steve was still young and all but popping his mommas brains every single time he cried, she was desperate to find a way to get him to stop. She started to notice he’d concentrate hard on one thing and another would happen, staring at a lamp until it shattered, looking into her face until her ears started to ring and pop. So she does what she can to break that subconscious focus. Puts a barrier between him and all that he’s hurting. A plastic, race car themed barrier, but it does its job, and it worked every time until they got him on meds. So now that he’s old enough not to just tear the damn things right off his face, he figures it’s worth a shot.

Because nothing had made him this emotional, this out of control since the day he found out the truth about his past. Billy is special, and the very last thing he wants is to lose control and hurt him.

He still feels like a dope walking into the school with a pair of shades on. Everyone starts to stare in that way he tries not to let remind him of the lab and the doctors standing in circles around him, prodding and waiting for a reaction. Steve thinks wearing sunglass inside is the least weird thing to happen in the halls of a highschool if Tina can come in with a perm high enough to touch the ceiling, but whatever. He’ll get over it.

The fact that nothing’s exploded from how on edge he is, mostly from wondering if his momma’s trick will work and not because of their judgement, is a very good sign.

Boldly, he decides to put it to the ultimate test, and approaches Billy.

In his head, he’s so focused on just going to talk to Billy, he has nothing planned to say to him, but he thinks he would’ve forgotten anyways, what with the lazy smile Billy flashes him when he notices him approaching.

Steve’s gaze quickly darts past Billy to check for damage to anything, the racing in his chest from just a look like that typically enough to at least crack a window. Maybe he’s not as confident about this as he thought, or maybe Billy’s just really good at making him flustered.

Doesn’t matter, because he’s at the other boys locker before he has time to process what he’s doing, “Lookin’ for somethin’ Harrington?”

“Oh, yeah, I was just checking for uh, my fans. Yeah, they follow me around everywhere, you know?” It’s bullshit, and it sounds more than dumb coming out of Steve’s mouth, but it makes Billy laugh, real low and raspy and that’s a win in his book.

“That what the little disguise is for?” Billy hums and taps his temple, clearly referring to the sun glasses perched on Steve’s nose.

“Oh these? No, I uh, wear these ‘cause of the uh.. because I wanna sleep in class and down want the teachers to know?” His answer comes as more of a question than anything, so he’s grateful when Billy seems to be more interested in his excuse than the subject at hand.

“Pfft, yeah right. I’ve heard you sleepin’ on the basketball bus. Ain’t no way your snoring doesn’t get you caught before your eyes do.”

Steve just waves him off, laughs with Billy even if his heart isn’t in it.

Billy closes his locker door, switching the subject as the scenery switches. It’s all a distraction to Steve, but he forces himself to look Billy in the face as the other boy asks him, “Seriously though dude, you okay? It ain’t like you to switch up your look. You’re not hiding anythin’ under the shades are you?”

“Nah. Just been thinking, I’m not the King because I’m not cool anymore, right? So I’m tryin’ to look a little more.. interesting.” Steve’s not a very quick or good liar, despite the military guarded secret that is himself and the little black number seven carved into his arm, and he can tell Billy doesn’t buy it.

He’s a good sport though, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders and assuring him with a little jostle, “Aw, Stevie, you're cool in my book. At least as long as you quit comin’ up with reasons not to hang with me, yeah?”

“Yeah, I- alright. I can do that. Sorry for flaking so much though. Didn’t realize until you said something.”

“S’Cool. Just meet me at the quarry after dark and it’ll make up for it.” Billy offers, obviously trying to play up the coolness neither of them apparently actually have, and Steve can’t help but call him on it. “It gets dark at like, four-thirty, five o’clock anymore?”

“Fine. Meet me at nine, pretty boy.” Billy smirks, dropping his voice to add knowingly, “And lose the shades. I think you’re much more interesting without ‘em.”

[maraudereestauderelb]

Touched

A Duff McKagan smut One Shot

Prompt: You go to a concert with one of your friends and band mates, who's having a thing with no other than the band's guitarist Slash. After the show you get to meet Duff McKagen and somehow end up having your first time with him.

MASTERLIST

Warning: sex (duh)

"They're good aren't they?", Y/F/N shouted over the loud music. "Amazing!" "Told ya!"

We were dancing along to the loud music and enjoying ourselves. It had taken her quite some time to convince me to come with her instead of heading for the Troubadour with our other two band mates. Apparently coming with my bassist had been the right choice though.

After a world tour, a successful album and quite a bit more money in my bank account than before we had left LA, I still felt more at home right here. In a rundown club on the strip with a still upcoming rock band on stage.

Y/F/N and I had fit in perfectly. Nobody would recognize just the two of us having a great time and getting drunk. Except maybe the group of aspiring musicians and rising rock bands of the strip. In this circle everyone knew everyone, knew in which bands they had played, who they were associated with, had partied together before and so on and so forth.

That was exactly the reason why we had ended up here. The lead guitarist used to play in a band called Road Crew and had surely attended one of the parties at our trailer before. Y/F/N knew him and she had told me he was in a new band that was very close on getting a record deal. "You gotta check them out! Heard they're fuckin good", had been the argument that had won me over in the end. Not so much her initial reason to come here. That being the fact that apparently the guy had been an awesome fuck and she wanted to get laid by him again.

Now being here, I didn't regret it. I was having fun! And I was back in my usual habitat and in a situation that was familiar. If after the concert she wanted to leave with her black haired curly-head she was free to do so. Either I'd bump into someone I knew or would simply head home and call it a night.

The singer seemed familiar as well and if I remembered correctly Nikki had left his ass outside at one of their parties.

"Yo, what's the lead singer's name again?", I asked Y/F/N. "Oh that's Axl. Hollywood Rose, remember?" "Oh yea, right!"

I got why those boys were apparently very close to making it. Shit, was Guns n' Rosesgood!

Y/F/N had successfully gotten us all the way through the crowd to the stage, where we danced and sang along some more until the band was finished.

A few moments after the last song had ended the club put on some generic rock music and blasted them through the speakers.

"You gonna head backstage or wait here?" This wasn't the type of club in which the band would go off stage and head backstage never to be seen again. They had a small room for all of them to change and would then most likely come out to party. I knew, because we had played here before.

"He saw me, so trust me, he's gonna come to me", she grinned, and I once again admired her confidence.

It didn't take too long before Slash really showed up. He greeted me as well and congratulated on our album, so I told him what a sick guitar player he is. I give credit where it's due.

But I also understood that it was probably best for me to piss off now. So that's what I did. I figured I'd get one last drink and keep my eyes open in case of seeing anybody I knew. And for real I spotted a few people I knew from college who quickly waved me over.

After telling them the generic shit everybody wanted to know coming back from tour, it actually turned into a lot of fun to party with them. No coke but sure as hell a lot of alcohol.

It was hours later when they decided to leave and I had actually planned to leave with them

when I spotted a barkeeper, I knew. He had also attended a bunch of our parties and was a cool guy. So I sat down at the bar and joked around with him some more as the club kept getting emptier.

The club surely was anything but empty at one point, neither was it packed. It wasn't so crowded anymore, and I had completely lost track of time when someone sat down on the barstool next to me.

I didn't pay much attention and simply took another sip from my vodka lemon until he said: "You know, your friend's already gone, right?"

I turned to face him and recognized him as one of Slash's band members, right after I had been speechless for a moment because of how handsome he was.

"Yea, I know", I nodded and added grinning: "So is your guitarist, right?" "Obviously", he answered laughing: "Should've seen him backstage after the concert, couldn't get to her fast enough!" I joined his laughter, finished my drink and looked around. "Your remaining band member's left with a groupie as well, huh?" "No, fuckin idea where they are", he smiled and waved over to Jimmy, the barkeeper: "Another one of these for the little Rockstar here and I take whatever she has."

"Thank you", I told him with a soft smile. He waved it off: "I'm Duff McKagan by the way." "Y/N Y/L/N", I replied. "I know, was at one of your trailer parties before ya guys became famous." "Oh were you?", I asked surprised. I would've bet I'd recognize such a pretty face. Blond, tall, bassist. I was in fuckin heaven.

"You then ones with the trailer with the IV in the living room, right?" "Yupp, that's us", I nodded with a smirk: "Then I'm sorry for not recognizing you..."

"Don't worry bout it", he smiled: "Doubt we got the chance to talk...not that I wouldn't have wanted to..."

"We should have! Then I probably would've listened to you guys sooner! And Oh. My. God. You're amazing!", I gushed excitedly. "Thanks! Hoping it'll get us where you are now." "You'd have to be a complete idiot not to fuckin sign you!"

"I fucking hope so", he sighed and took a big gulp from his vodka: "You the song writer, right?" He suddenly changed the topic.

"Yes, why?" "I dunno", he shrugged: "When I first saw your music video on TV I couldn't help but fuckin wonder what complete asshole hurt this beautiful girl..."

His words hit me like a fucking train, because they reminded me of my former best friend Nikki Sixx, whom I had been stupid enough to fall for, but soon my drunken brain focused on something else: He thought I was beautiful...

"An asshole that's no longer a problem", I laughed. "Well cheers to that", the blond guy smirked and clicked our glasses: "Lucky me."

I returned his smirk and soon felt his hand on my thigh.

"How come you didn't leave with a groupie?", I tease him and sip on my glass. "Not my thing..." "What an utter liar", I thought. "And also", he went on: "I saw you in the crowd dancing next to your friend and knew exactly who to go for."

The way he looked into my eyes send chills through my body and I quickly took another sip from my drink.

"You alright?", Jimmy asked from further away to make sure I was fine, and I quickly nodded.

"You're pretty confident, huh?", I asked Duff. "Why?" "Well, what if that one girl you decided to go for wasn't interested?", I teased him.

Was I interested? I mean...damn he was hot and watching him on stage had been hot! His touch on my thigh made me feel hot! But for fuck's sake I didn't knowhim!

"That would be pretty sad for both of us", he shrugged and winked at me before looking at his glass and away from me.

Was he right? God, I could already feel the heat inside of me rising and a quiet voice in the back of my head reminded me that I had seen him shirtless on stage and wondered what it would feel like to touch him.

But damn it, I was drunk!

He lit a cigarette and I gave my everything not to stare at his lips for longer.

"I liked you better when you were funny and not seductive", I shrugged as well with a smirk and made him laugh. "Ouch, thanks!", he replied smiling: "In that case you'd have loved to see me lookin like an idiot when I got to Slash and your friend hours ago just to realize your gone."

"Maybe you should've hurried more, you know, the way your friend Slash did", I teased him more and calmed my nerves.

"He's just a funny guy", I told myself: "Joke around with him some more and then get your ass back home."

"Well, in the end you waited here for me anyway." "Rockstars don't wait for anyone", I joked and took the cigarette from him to take a drag as well. I could tell he was staring at my lips this time but was ripped out of his thoughts when I handed it back.

He cleared his throat and said: "Always wanted to fuck a rockstar."

I almost choked on my drink. That was my sign. The cards were on the table. I should tell him that this certainly wouldn't be the night he'd get what he wants and leave! But I was curious... so damn curious...

I couldn't deny that I was attracted to him! Maybe I could at least make out with him...find out what his lips felt like...there was nothing wrong about that.

"That's what the girls always tell you?", I tried to mock him but was too nervous to sound convincing. "You're quite a joker, huh?" "At least tryin to..."

"It's cute", he admitted. "Good, because I never run out of stupid jokes..."

"Trust me, I'd know a way or two to shut you up", he grinned to himself and took a last drag before he stubbed the cigarette out.

God, his words went straight to my core and put pictures in my head I hated but at the same time desperately wanted to happen. I wanted to find out what he wanted to do!

"Ya know what I always wanted to find out?", I asked without thinking about it twice. "What is it, gorgeous?" "If it's true that bass players don't just have skilled fingers when it comes to playin instruments."

I cracked the joke before I had thought about it. Why? Because I always had to listen to idiots tell me that and because I somehow really wanted to find out.

His smirk grew winder than I had seen it all night and it made me knees weak. "I can definitely show ya that."

"How about you first make me shut up?"

I had barely finished my sentence before I felt his free hand in my neck and soon enough his lips on mine.

I felt like melting right then and there! His lips moving against mine felt so good! But what started as a rather innocent kiss quickly became more heated. I grabbed the hem of his leather jacket, not to pull him closer but because I needed to hold on to something, anything."

His lips were moving against mine before he gently captured my lower lip with his. It was hard not too moan on the spot! And even harder when I tasted his tongue.

I damned those stupid barstools! I wanted him closer, needed him closer.

When we finally separated again my entire body was totally antsy!

"Speechless?", he asked teasingly. God, he was so damn hot!

I tried to think of something witty and fun, but I couldn't summon a single proper thought.

"You know...to prove the other thing we should probably move this somewhere more private...", he whispered into my ear and hadn't goose pumps already covered my entire body they definitely would have after he seductively kissed my neck.

I should tell him no. I should move my fucking ass back home.

But when he leaned back again and all I could think about was how I buried my fingers in his blond hair, I just nodded...

He had his arm around my waist when he let me out of the club and down strip. It was still dark and it wasn't hard to tell that there were still a bunch of parties going on in other places as well. Like I said, I had long lost my sense for time.

"My place ain't far from here", he told me and I nodded. Excitement was bubbling inside of me and gosh, I couldn't wait to kiss him again!

All worries and negative thoughts had been long gone as we walked through the cold night. I kept looking at him from the side and tried to hide the excited smirk on my lips. But

damn, he was even taller than I had guessed and looked so handsome in the dim glow of the streetlights.

I didn't know what to say. Where words needed?

I realized how he eyed me as well and a smug smile appeared on his lips. Shit, I wanted him. I had never felt this need for someone before, but I had also never allowed myself to get this carried away.

I bit my lower lip and tried to clear my thoughts but that attempt was quickly thrown completely over board when he suddenly pressed my back against the closest wall and kissed me. The kiss almost took my breath away.

Here I was standing on the strip with my back against the wall of some club and making out with a complete stranger. And it felt so right.

"Duff", I whimpered against his lips in a needy tone. "We should probably keep going, huh?", he smirked a little out of breath himself. "Except you consider this somewhere more private", I said with a grin on my lips but felt how he led me on with his arm around my hips once again.

"Wouldn't mind", he shrugged and lit another cigarette: "But I wanna take my time with you."

I swallowed hard and accepted the cigarette he wanted to share with me.

The next five minutes of us walking passed mainly without much talking but then I found myself in his one-bedroom apartment.

Alone with him now I felt the nervousness set back in.

So this was how it's gonna be?

"You want somethin to drink or anything?", he asked from behind me and I shook my head. Soon I felt him against my back with his arms around my body and his lips on my neck and shoulder.

I suppressed the low moan that had wanted to escape my lips and simply leaned back against him.

He had soon gripped the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head. A shiver ran through me but his warm hands that travelled my body soothed me and quickly found the clasp of my bra and opened it.

He was still kissing my neck when he whispered: "Turn around to me." I obeyed immediately.

The sight of my bare breasts exposed before him made him fight to contain his arousal as he hardened in his boxers. He lowered his head and wrapped his lips around my nipple. He sucked gently and I failed to find something to hold onto.

It was weird to be almost naked in front of him while he was still fully dressed, at the same time it made me feel excited.

"Get on the bed, I got something to prove", the blond haired told me smirking and I nodded. I tried not to run to the bed and could barely believe how caught up in the moment I was. My entire mind was foggy!

I watched him take off his leather jacket before he walked over to me and moved my thighs apart so he could lay down between them.

I could feel him hard against my center through our clothes but before the nervousness consumed me he had his lips on mine again and consumed my senses instead.

His body was pressed against mine and he traced his fingers down my body. He stroked over my thighs and spread them even more before moving to my panties.

Through the fabric he pressed his hand against me and gently rubbed me. A soft moan left my lips and I stirred underneath him and spread my legs further. Duff smirked against my breats and took my nipple in his mouth again as he began to rub me through my panties. His fingers ran over my slit as heat began to pool and I whimpered.

"Duff", I moaned softly.

He pulled away from my titts and brought his lips to mine while his fingers rubbed at my clit.

My eyes were closed, and I was lost in the moment, but I managed to bring my hand to his head and tangled my fingers in his blond, long hair. My lips parted as another soft moan left them and Duff pushed his tongue inside my mouth, massaging my tongue with his own.

His fingers were moving in circles over my clit and I whimpered against his lips as my panties became more soaked with each move he made.

I moaned and writhed on the bed as his hand travelled beneath my panties. Both of us moaned as he ran his middle finger between my folds, feeling how wet I was.

I whined his name again and lifted my hips to meet his hand.

He pushed his erection against my thigh and instinctively I reached down and stroked him through his pants.

"God you’re so wet for me", he growled in in my ear.

I bit my lip and raised my hips when suddenly he pulled away from me.

He knelt on the bed and smirked at me before ripping my panties down my thighs and tossing them to the floor.

My heart felt like it was about to pump out of my fucking chest.

He moved between my legs and crashed his lips against mine.

His fingers made their way back to my core and he pushed his middle finger inside me with ease, making me gasp.

"You want me to fuck you?", he pulled his finger out teasingly slow.

I bit your lip and without thinking I nodded as he pushed his finger back in.

He added a second finger, stretching me slowly: "But not yet."

He pulled his fingers away and I whined at the emptiness. But before I could protest Duff spread my legs apart and laid between them.

He ran the flat of his tongue along my slit, making me gasp and clutch at the sheets.

His tongue ran over my clit in two slow strokes.

I quickly covered my mouth with my hand and let out a moan.

His tongue ran over my clit in slow circles and he reached his hands up to squeeze my breasts. When he sucked at my clit I let out another moan into my hand and Duff pulled away.

"Oh No, baby", he told me and moved my hand from my mouth: "I wanna hear you."

I bit my lip and watched as he went back to his slow licks and his eyes never left mine as he ran his tongue over me. I felt like I was burning.

I squeezed my eyes shut and reached down, wrapping my fingers in his blond hair and raised my hips to meet him. He pulled back, only slightly and ran his fingers over my slit. He let out a growl as he watched, pushing two fingers into your throbbing pussy.

"Duff", I gasped and already felt extremely full. "Don't panic", I told myself and threw all worries away when he began to pump his fingers in and out of me, slowly at first before he increased his speed.

"You like that, baby girl?"

I moaned in response and he stopped his movements. He sucked at my clit and the change in pleasure made me squirm.

I whined and lifted my hips to meet the strokes of his tongue.

He moaned against me and the vibrations sent pleasure soaring through my veins. He began pumping his fingers once more, curling them against my wall and rubbing against my gspot.

I writhed on the bed, clutching at the sheets because of the amount of pleasure.

"Fuck..."

"You gonna cum for me doll?", he growled against me.

I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip as my orgasm coursed through me. MY walls clenched around his skilled fingers and his tongue didn’t stop running over your clit, making my legs tremble.

When my orgasm started to slow down he got up and took his clothes off, throwing them anywhere. Before he sat back down between my thighs, I watched him put on a condom through barely open eyelids.

Without a warning and therefor without giving me the time to over think this he plunged his cock into me. I gasped at his size and raked my nails down his back.

The pain was sharp and unknown.

"God you feel so good baby."

He crashed his lips against mine, stifling my moan as he pulled out of me slowly.

"So tight." He pushed into me again. I was frowning and pushed my eyes closed as I was trying to adjust to him. Fuck, he felt so good at the same time this hurt so bad but in the best way possible.

I moaned and ran my hands over his back as he set a pace with deep and slow thrusts. He wanted me to feel every inch of him entering me and he lost himself in the little whimpers I made as he pushed into me. After a few more thrusts when the pain was starting to die down, he pulled out of me and knelt on the bed.

"Rollover", he ordered.

I bit my lip and obeyed, kneeling in front of him on all fours. Duff let out a breath as he looked at my ass.

I felt him run his cock over my center before he pushed into me once more.

"Duff...", I hissed.

His change of angle set a whole new sense of pleasure and he set a faster pace. It hurt but felt so good... His cock slammed into me and I collapsed against the mattress, falling onto my elbows, arching my back more in doing so.

He brought his hand down swiftly, slapping my ass and making me gasp.

Duff gripped my hips and I moaned between breaths as he picked up a fast and hard pace, slamming into me hard and fast. He leaned forward and pulled my hair into a ponytail, his thrusts never slowing down. With a gentle tug at my hair he pulled me back onto all fours and with his spare hand he reached under me.

His fingers found my clit and he rubbed clumsy circles. I bit my lip, trying to contain my moans and arched my back. He leant over me, his breath on my shoulder and hearing his staggered breathing sent me into overdrive. He released his grip in my hair only to wrap his hand around your throat gently and pull me back enough so he could turn my head around to kiss him. Just what I needed.

"You gonna cum for me?"

I attempted to nod, which proved difficult with his grip on my throat. He didn't wait for an answer though and rubbed his fingers over my clit faster.

"Cum for me, babygirl."

I lost all control, my eyes rolling back as the waves of pleasure rolled through me, sending shivers all over my skin. His pace was sloppy now and I knew he was almost ready as well. He slowly pulled away and turned on his back so I knelt down on wobbly legs. I removed the condom and licked along his throbbing cock and he let out a low moan. I took him as deep as I could and began to suck him off until he grasped his cock and pumped it a few times before coming in my mouth.

I swallowed his load and his deep moans send a few last chills through me.

Both of us collapsed against the sheets, a sheer layer of sweat covering my skin as I tried to catch my breath.

"Shit that was good", he exhaled and placed a lazy kiss on my shoulder. "Yes, it was", I thought and grinned to myself, trying to process what had happened.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Indruck 22 for the meet uglies?

Here you go! I went SFW on this one

you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship

“...such a waste of money. I mean, why spend all that to get something tacky on your skin?”

Indrid rolls his eyes at Barclay from across the counter of the Amnesty Lodge coffee shop, the cooks arms and hands sporting a plethora of tattoos rivaled only by Indrid’s collection.

“I dunno, l like the one I got.” The other man--who seems to be on the worst first date of his life--shrugs.

“You honestly think you and Juno couldn’t have spent that money on something else in college?”

“I mean maybe but, uh, we were earnin our own cash, figured we got to decide what to spend it on.”

“Hmmmm” the first guy sips his coffee, “sounds like a typical excuse for someone who doesn’t want to admit a mistake.”

“C’mon, that ain’t fair-”

“Ugh, stop saying ain’t! I can’t take someone who talks like that to meet my family.” Before the target of his disdain can respond, he snaps his fingers, “hey, buddy, can I get a refill or what?”

“The station for black coffee refills is right there, sir.” Barclay indicates the very obvious corner of dispensers, his voice the kind of calm that Indrid knows means he’s memorizing this guys face to warn other staff about.

They earn a brief reprieve while The Asshole leaves the table. When he returns, he’s shaking his head.

“God, have you looked at the photos they’ve got up? Who the fuck wants to look at bones?”

Indrid quickly glances at his friend to be sure he’s permitted to start a fight. Barclay nods.

“Quite a lot of people.” Indrid spins on his stool. “I’ve sold a number of them just from the display here. So perhaps you could keep your rude, unclultured, close-minded, obnoxious mouth shut.”

The man balks, looks to his companion for help. He offers none, mouth trying to form words and only coming out with halves of ones (except for the “fucks” which are plentiful).

“Oh my fucking god, you agree with him! That’s it, I’m out.” The Asshole pushes back from the table and storms out. The remaining man leaps up, panicked.

“Fuck.”

“It’s okay man, shitty first dates happen to all of us.” Barclay offers from beside the bakery case.

“I mean yeah, they do, but that wasn’t one of ‘em. That was my boyfriend of three fuckin years.” He dashes out of the shop, sparing a final glare at Indrid as he does.

Indrid trades a sheepish look with his friend, “Oops.”

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

“I’m glad you finally get to meet Duck!” Aubrey grins over her shoulder as she and Indrid wind down the hall at the office Kepler magazine.

Founded by childhood friends, Kepler worked a combination of print and video content that saw its subscribers and revenue climb while other publications struggled to stay afloat. Aubrey was head of the video team, though she contributed content to the magazine in the form of interviews about environmental activists of color and sustainable gift guides.

Kepler has three sections: travel, science, and environmental writing. Indrid now has the honor of being one of their primary photographers. He started two weeks ago and is thoroughly enjoying his work and the company of the other staff. The only person he’s yet to meet is Duck Newton, one of the founders and main reporters, as he was off on an assignment.

Aubrey knocks, gets a friendly “come in” and ushers Indrid into the office.

Looking at him from behind the desk is The Asshole’s Boyfriend, whose face goes from open and friendly to confused, then to perturbed.

“You okay?”

“I, uh, fuck, n-ye.” Duck sighs, “remember how I told you Alex and I split after a shitty date in a coffee shop?” He points at Indrid, “this was the fella who, uh, expedited the process.”

“Ohhhh.” Aubrey frowns, then shrugs with a smile, “whelp, he’s our new photographer. We’ll see you around.” She hurries them outside once more, shutting the doors. As they head back the way they came, she whispers, “his ex was a huge fucking dick, so if word gets out everyone is gonna think you’re a fucking hero.”

“He didn’t seem to see it that way.”

“It was only a few weeks ago, so it’s still pretty fresh. He’ll heal from it okay, Duck’s a tough cookie. And I’m sure you guys’ll get along eventually.”

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

“Juno, please, you gotta come with me.”

“I would bud, except it’s April and I’s fifth wedding anniversary that weekend. And no, we already have plans, so we can’t just take over this assignment as part of the celebration.”

“Fuck” Duck leans back in his chair.

“...You really asked everyone?”

“Ye-no, fuck-”

“Duck.”

“I ain’t asked Indrid yet.”

“There it is.” Juno smirks, “you gotta ask; besides, we were gonna have him do illustrations for the feature, but photos would be even better. And we both know it ain’t his fault y’all broke up.”

Duck nods, promises to ask Indrid after lunch. He finds the photographer flipping through his files from his shoot for next issues cover. His silver hair is pulled back, red glasses sitting on the desk beside him so he can gauge color correctly.

Duck kind of wants to pull the silver locks just to see what happens. It’s not his fault Indrid looks like his Sophomore roommate who he had a raging crush on, only with more tattoos and a much more captivating face. Pity he helped fuck up Duck’s last chance at a stable relationship.

“Hey, Indrid, you got a minute?”

The photographer cocks his head.

“I, uh, so we got a feature on this whole chunk of places touting themselves as ‘sustainable romantic getaways. I booked a bunch of places, but a lot of ‘em will turn me away if I turn up solo. And the person I was supposed to go with ain’t an option any more. Neither is anyone else. You get my drift?”

Indrid pinches the bridge of his nose, “you realize this is a terrible idea, yes?”

“Hey, we been workin together just fine. Ain’t we? Wait, fuck, I ain’t been treatin you bad even when I’m tryin to be professional, am I?”

“No, you’ve been perfectly polite. But there’s a world of difference between being cordial in an office and going on what’s functionally a vacation together.”

Duck crosses his arms, “I ain’t about to lose eight hundred bucks in deposits.”

Indrid blinks, then chuckles, “Fair. What day do we leave?”

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

The temperature rises and the air dries as they speed south on Five. Indrid fiddles with games on his phone as cover for the list of “will this be a disaster or not” he’s mentally constructing. So far the signs are positive; Duck isn’t very chatty, but neither is Indrid. They have similar tastes in music, which makes much more sense when Duck explains he was a burn-out in high school. He also isn’t agitated by Indrid stimming, which makes it easier for the photographer to relax and enjoy the drive.

But they haven’t spoken about the elephant in the car, and Indrid resolves not to be the first to do so. No point in poking the sore spot if he doesn’t have to.

They stop at a Sinclair for gas. Duck reaches into his glovebox for something as Indrid climbs out, comes away with a photo instead. It’s one of those ones from a photobooth, faded but unmistakably him and his ex. His face falls for a second and Indrid scurries into the Dairy Queen attached to the convenience store.

As he waits in line, he turns one fact over in his mind like a picture he’s trying to make sense of; it would be easier to let their awkward first meeting go if he did not genuinely like the other man. He’s charming, in a quiet way, and very friendly. He’s built like the guys Indrid always got useless crushes on in college, usually third tier frat boys or--if he was lucky--a bear a few years older than him who liked his men on the odd side.

He doesn’t like seeing Duck sad. The sadness isn’t something he can fix. The stalemate between these two facts annoy the living hell out of him.

He’s next in line, glances up to confirm what he wants, and gets an idea. Last week, he overheard Duck talking with Aubrey about roadtrip snacks of their youth.

“One chocolate dipped cone, on me.” He holds the treat out to the other man.

“Oh. Uh, thanks. These are my favorite from when I was a kid.” Duck’s smile returns.

“I remembered. Or, ah, that is, I remembered you saying that.”

The smile changes, “you didn’t need to.”

“I wanted to. Shall we?”

“Yep. Uh, you gonna be able to drive and eat that at the same time?”

“Do not doubt my ability to consume ice cream under difficult circumstances, Duck Newton.”

They make it to their first stop unscathed. It’s what Duck refers to as, “eco-bespoke,” a fancy spa and hotel built in a former school, the kind that was made in an era of beautiful instead of grim educational architecture.

“Goats!” Indrid claps his hands, delighted, at the two animals stabled near the main building. One of it’s supposed sustainable elements is the small farm that helps feed the on-site restaurant. Duck smirks and Indrid suddenly feels the gulf in their upbringings, “Ah, I suppose they’re not exciting to someone who grew up in a rural town.”

“Nah, but they’re damn cute.” Duck checks the tag on their room keys, “okay, we’re in the green building, room 2B.”

Indrid snaps some photos as they cross the grounds, more to remind himself of things he wants to come back to later than anything else. He’s busy studying a strange mark on the wall by their door when Duck says, “I can sleep on the floor.”

“Why--oh” he stares at the single bed, “in retrospect, we should have seen this coming.”

“Yeah.” Duck drops his bag near the closet, slides the door to look for spare linens. Indrid summons his courage, finds it lacking, and so bolsters it with nonchalance.

“It’s a king, we could easily share.”

“You’d, uh, you’d be okay with that?”

“It is only narrow definitions of masculinity that mean something like sharing a bed is inherently sexual.”

He’s not entirely sure that made sense, but Duck nods, “You want the right side or left?”

“Right, please.”

“Great. And, uh, Indrid? Thanks for rollin with all this. I, uh, I know it’s fuckin weird but this is a huge feature for the magazine and we woulda been fucked if we had to pull it.”

Indrid gingerly sits on his side of the bed, “You’re welcome. And I don;t know about you, but” he smiles, catches Duck watching him intently in the mirror, “I’m enjoying myself so far.”

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

“Why has an activity that renders one incapable of using their thighs been deemed ‘romantic?” Indrid mumbles, face-down on the bed to offer his burning legs relief.

“Fuck if I know.” Duck groans as he sits next to him, “Kinda fun, but if I was doin this to get you in bed, I’d be fucked.”

“I am in bed” Indrid teases.

“And if I tried to put the moves of you you’d toss me outta it. Assumin I could even move myself that close.” Duck nudges him, then clears his throat, “uh, I mean, not like we’d be doin that-”

“Nono, point taken.” Indrid rolls over. The horseback ride was one of the “couples exclusives;” a trot out to a beautiful oasis for a gourmet picnic. Indrid got some excellent shots, including one of Duck with honeycomb dripping down his chin, which he will not be offering up to editors but may keep for himself. For it’s beautiful composition, of course.

Mercifully, their next stop is the pool. Indrid settles himself in the hot tub while Duck types some notes on his phone. Then his friend doffs his bathrobe and Indrid may as well be in a dream. In the steaming, echoing paradise of multi-colored tile and ecstatic shouts, Duck stands like one of the angelic fountains at its heart has come to life.

“You okay there, ‘Drid?”

“Yes.” He hopes his lack of glasses means Duck will mistake his blatant staring for trying to get his vision in focus.

“Then scoot your cu--uh, your butt over so I can sit down.”

Indrid gladly moves aside, finds he’s so comfortable with Duck pressed against him that he begins nodding off in the warm lull of the water. When the other man nudges him, saying it’s time to go, he finds a strong arm draped over his shoulder and Duck’s smile the most relaxed it’s been all trip.

Their last task at this location is to locate the speakeasy somewhere on the premises and order the “lovers delight” (only available to couples). To do so, they follow clues purple light bulbs, doors that lead to tiny, art-filled rooms, secret staircases, and a false supply closet to a dark wooded, dimly lit, incredibly pleasant bar looking out over the property. The drink turns out to be a massive goblet (more a bowl that someone stuck on a stem) of ginger syrup, prickly pear juice, and silver tequila.

It also turns out to be incredibly strong. So much so that when they get back to the room, Indrid loses his balance getting his shoes off, which makes Duck laugh, which results in both of them flopping onto the bed.

“S’fun. You’re, you’re real good at the clues. Should, should go to an escape room when we get home.”

“Wasn’t, hic, that hard. They, they want, hic, want you to find it.”

“Take the compliment, goofus” Duck pushes his shoulder.

“You’re, hic, the goofus.”

“Nuh uh.” Duck sticks his tongue out. Indrid does the same, then licks his cheek just to hear him laugh.

Duck rolls onto his back, giggles dying down to a contemplative sigh, “He woulda hated this.”

“Your ex?” Indrid crawls to stay close to him.

“Yeah. Everythin I like, or, or thought was fun, he thought it was a waste of time or just plain worthless. He, he wasn’t like that at the start. Dunno what changed. Probably me. Probably got borin. Got worse.”

Indrid is not so drunk that he believes he can fix this. But he’s just drunk enough to stroke Duck’s cheek and murmur, “No. Nono, hic, you’re th’best.”

He doesn’t remember falling asleep after that, but he must have, because his phone is beeping at them to get up and face the day. They do so with to-go coffees in one hand and their bags in the other, neither speaking of the night before until Indrid has turned the car into deeper desert.

“Sorry for gettin on a thing about Alex last night.”

“It was a three year relationship; goodness knows you’re allowed to have feelings about it.”

“Even relief?”

Indrid glances at him, “Of course.”

His friend leans back in his seat, sipping from his travel mug, “That’s half the reason I been in such a funk. I feel like I oughta be sad, then I feel guilty for the fact I’m relieved instead. But if I really was that unhappy in it, why did I hang around so long? Maybe that was the best I deserved, y’know?”

“I know the feeling, yes, but I can’t say I agree with your statement. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are and adores it, not someone who loved what you once were and became bitter when you grew.”

Duck looks at the console between them, at Indrid’s chipped black nails and the hand he hopes isn’t shaking. He squeezes it a moment longer than necessary, “Thanks, ‘Drid. It’s nice to hear that from someone who’s still gettin to know me. Juno and them, they’re my friends, I know they’re in my corner but, uh, sometimes I worry that anyone new is gonna find me dull or somethin like that.”

“I’m sure some people would, just as some take one look at me and decide I’m a weirdo who they don’t want to deal with. But I can say with certainty that I don’t find you that way.”

Duck grins all the way to their destination. It’s a quirky trailer park full of amenities and built mostly from salvaged materials, doing it’s best to run off the grid. It also gives each trailer a theme, and Indrid flaps his hands when he sees they’ve been booked in the “The Cramps” themed one.

“Hell yeah.” Duck mirrors his excitement as they open the door. Their haven from the desert sun is full of kitschy horror artifacts and a much smaller bed than the previous spot. There’s no debate this time; Indrid settles on the right, Duck on the left, and they settle in for a nap before venturing out to work.

They take in the bar, the arcade, the mini-golf course, and the “couples supply room” (“damn, didn’t know they made eggnog scented massage oil” “ooh, I like how that smells”), but Duck turns out to be most excited to rent a stargazing kit and guide Indrid out into the dark desert. They’re on their backs, shoulder to shoulder and munching chocolate covered fruit, when he discovers the source of his glee.

“There!” Duck points to a crackling streak of silver.

“A meteor” Indrid wiggles happily as a second one speeds through his view.

“It’s the Perseids, and this is a damn good place to watch ‘em. Look, there’s another one.” He’s breathless each time and Indrid’s heart threatens to beat hard enough to crack the earth at the sound.

“Did you ever wish on stars when you were little?”

“Yep. Never asked for much worth notin, though I’m pretty sure I wished once to just wake up and be a boy. Or, uh, guess for everyone to see me as one. What about you?”

“I wished...I wished for someone to do things like this with, some who’d kiss me and tell me that they didn’t need to wish because what they wanted was right here.. I love the world, I want to see so much of it, that’s half the reason I chose my profession.. But when I was young I thought I’d be with someone when I did. I thought it was easy to find that kind of love. To be worthy of it.”

“Hey now” Duck rolls onto his side. He’s backlit by the moon, meteors zipping behind him as if they, just like Indrid, are pulled to him, “what happened to all the stuff you said in the car about deservin someone who adores you?”

“It’s easy to apply such things to you, harder to believe them about myself.”

“How come?”

“Because you are everything a sensible person could want in a man and I am not.”

“That’s where you’re wrong” He sets a hand next to Indrid’s shoulder, “Can think of at least one sensible fella who wants to get to know you a whole hell of a lot.”

“He’ll get to know me plenty, we’re co-workers.”

“There are different kinds of gettin to know someone.” Duck dips down, brushes their noses together, “for instance, the last few days I’ve gotten to know you’re a damn good travel companion and that Ned was smart to hire you. But I’ve also gotten to know there’s some things about you I really wanna know.”

“Such as?” Indrid’s fingers find Duck’s sides.

“Such as whether you wanna go on a date with me when we get back. No assignment, just the two of us gettin some time together.”

“I want nothing more.” He leans up to kiss him, feels him shudder happily when their lips meet. Indrid wonders how long it’s been since someone kissed Duck like they meant it, and resolves to make up any deficits with an enthusiasm that would put horny eighteen year olds to shame.

Indrid nips Ducks ear, “you know, were it not for the threat of mosquitos and scorpions, I’d suggest we make good use of the non-food items in that basket.”

Ducks grin lights Indrid up like a comet, “Then howsabout we go test just how conducive our trailer is to romance?”

Indrid kisses him adoringly, “Lead on, sweetheart; I’ll follow you anywhere.”

[oliviaischillin1204]

Amber sipped her coffee as the sound of screams pierced the air.

She knew they weren't under attack-- the Coriolis was docked, and there was no sign of any oncoming boats or weapons as far as the eye could see. Whatever her strange little crew mates were hollering about, it could wait until she at least finished her damn coffee.

A beat of silence, and then another scream, higher pitched than any of the ones before.

Amber clanked her mug back down to the table as she got up with a sigh. "Alright, it's too fuckin' early for all this now."

She meandered her way through the ship, following the sound of the screams to the engine room. For half a second she did wonder if there really was something wrong, but she quickly resigned herself to the fact that if that were true, she'd be dead either way, so she kept her unhurried pace.

She reached the door of the engine room just as she rolled a successful Perception check-- the sound of the constant engines was loud, and it wasn't until she was just a few feet away that she realized there was... another sound, mixing in among the screams.

Amber paused, blinking. She didn't need to roll for Investigation as she peeked around the corner-- it was immediately obvious what was going on.

There was Zoox, standing in the dead center of the engine room (the only place in the room where he could stand at his full 6'9" height). For reasons Amber could not fuckin' conceive, the Brinarr was holding Devo with his back against his chest, one arm wrapped tightly around Devo's sternum, the other pressing its hand flat against Devo's stomach.

Amber watched as Zoox's fingers twitched, just once, and the screams returned. Ah, so that's why the hollers all sounded vaguely and unspecifically French.

She leaned against the doorway with arms crossed, watching Zoox tickle all over Devo's stomach with one large hand. The poor kid was squealing like a stuck sea-pig, legs flailing like crazy. It was pretty funny, to be honest-- he was a lanky fella, and it'd probably been a long time since anyone had been able to pick him up like that.

It was at this moment that Zoox finally noticed her across the room. He stopped, seemingly unaware at the way Devo was now sagging against his grip and gasping for breath.

"Good morning, captain!" he chirped.

"Good mornin', claspers," Amber replied. "Why're you killing Devo?"

If Zoox had a face, Amber's sure his smile would've dropped into a panicked frown at that. "Wait, am I killing him?" He clutched Devo tighter to his chest in fear, once again oblivious to the way he made a few stray giggled burst out of Devo's mouth.

"Oui, yes, you are killing me, Zoox, please let me down--"

"Devo's fine, sweetie, don't worry," Amber interjected louder than him. "It's just ticklin', it won't actually kill him."

If looks could kill, the pout on Devo's face would've sent Amber to her watery grave. "I can assure you, it feels like a very real possibihility!"

His words got lost in another smattering of giggles-- Zoox was rearranging his grip around Devo's waist, hoisting him even higher off the ground.

"Oh, oh that's alright then," he said lightly to Amber. "'Cause I just, I kinda just forgot that you, um, non-Brinarr folk, had such squishy parts? And-- honestly, it's real funny, getting to hear Devo laugh like that."

He squished his fingers all towards the center of Devo's stomach at once, and the orator's knees shot up to his chest in a desperate attempt to curl in on himself. He laughed, throwing his head back and knocking it against the large chest of Zoox's armor.

"Mon dieu, please, Zoox, I can't tahahake it!" he whined, scrabbling both hands against Zoox's one larger one. He tried to whisper something, some incantation, but he couldn't get the words out before Zoox's fingers started wiggling again and sent his laughter skyrocketing.

"Be gentle, Zoox, 'kay?" Amber said. "He's littler than you, and also not made of hard coral, so go easy on him."

"That is not helpful, Amber, please--!"

"Or don't, I don't really care. It's good training, Monsieur la Main," she said to Devo, mimicking his accent with her own steely drawl and probably sounding completely incomprehensible to an outsider. "Figure out how to escape, it'll be a good workout. Zoox, just don't break him."

"Will do, captain!" Zoox replied, using his one free hand to give her a proper salute. Amber wondered when he'd realize that he could use that other hand to aid in the tickling. For Devo's sake, she hoped he didn't.

"And keep it down in here, keppa?" she asked, pushing off the door frame and turning away. "I'm tryin' to have a cup of coffee here."

She left without waiting for a response-- not that she was expecting one, since Devo was already in hysterics again. Maybe the training session would be good for 'em. Or not, whatever. As long as they're having fun.

[unbridgeabledistances]

I love your last fic so much it got me thinking could you write something about like the gallaghers( +Kev and v and sandy etc) observing Ian and Mickey’s relationship? Like their perspectives of seeing them be soft with each other and just their dynamic? I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense lol <3

hiiiii anon!<3 okay i want to start off by saying that this got WAY too long, bc i loved this prompt a lot- so much that i think i might make this a multi-part thing on ao3! i started with sandy (since i am in love with her) but i’ll also go through the gallaghers/kev & v soon- lmk if u guys want me to continue, and who u would want me to write next if i do (or if u want me to continue with sandy lol i have lots of thoughts and feelings)

this ended up taking place in s10 when we first meet sandy, fyi:) also tw for brief mentions of abuse (as always, bc of terry 🙄) -- and there is a reference to the line in 10x07 that jokes about mickey and sandy for a brief moment

--

When Sandy heard her phone buzz on that Tuesday afternoon, sitting on the stained and lumpy couch in her shithead uncle’s living room while drinking a beer and arguing with Alek about what type of insurance fraud could make the biggest payout, she had no idea what to expect on the other end of the line. The phone kept ringing, the contact info lighting up the screen: MICKEY.

Mickey? Shit. It had been a long fucking time. Between her own various juvie stints as a kid and Mickey’s time behind bars overlapping just as she got released, Sandy hadn’t seen Mickey since… high school, maybe? Whenever it was, it was back when Mickey was a grimy kid with spikey hair and dirty fingernails, a kid with an obsession with guns and way too much time on his hands, back when they would hang out by the train tracks and drink beer and get way too high and do stupid shit; all in all, back when everything was a hell of a lot simpler. Sandy assumed Mickey had met Royal and been clued in about her shitshow of a life at some point while she’d been gone, and they’d possibly overlapped at a family party or two a few years ago when they both were in town— but other than hearing about the aftershocks of Mickey coming out and driving Terry up a goddamn wall, so much so that Terry broke his parole and was headed straight back to prison hours after his release, Sandy hadn’t seen Mickey in forever.

Which is why this call intrigued her so much— Mickey was supposed to be in prison for at least a couple more years, or at least that’s what his brothers had said, so why the fuck was he using a cell phone right now?

Sandy nodded her head towards the cellphone, cutting Alek off mid-sentence and sliding her thumb across the screen to pick up the call. Before saying anything, she rose off the creaky springs of the couch and speedwalked out to the front porch before answering— whatever the fuck Mickey wanted, she assumed he was calling her because this conversation wasn’t for the ears of any other Milkoviches. She lit a cigarette and leaned against the post of the front stoop, listening to the silence hanging heavy on her phone’s speaker.

“Mickey? You there?”

A low chuckle came from the other end of the line.

“Fuck. Been a long time.” Mickey’s voice sounded the same; punchy and snarky, maybe a little gruffer and raspier after years of cigarette smoke. Sandy waited a moment for Mickey to give more of a reply, or an explanation for his call, but it was clear that Mickey wasn’t going to give one right away— it was like he was testing the waters, like he was deciding if making this call was the right move. Soft static echoed on the phone line.

Sandy totally got it— reemerging from a life of cinderblock cell walls and barbed wire fences fucking sucked, especially when you were a Milkovich and the moment you got out you were faced with a choice, an opportunity: did you want to go back home, or did you want to start fresh, erase your own name, and forget this dysfunctional family ever existed? Sandy knew she felt the same way when she got out. Mickey deciding to call Sandy was a big fucking move, and she realized that— reclaiming your life as a Milkovich on the brink of a new beginning took guts.

“So, I take it you’re out of prison?” Sandy asked after a moment, inhaling another slow puff of her cigarette.

There was that laugh again— Sandy had weirdly missed it. Honestly, Mickey hadn’t ever been too bad to be around— they’d both felt like outsiders in the family, had both always had a strong head on their shoulders and a fucking moral compass, unlike the rest of Terry’s sheep who did his bidding and got swastikas tattooed on their chest. When he was younger Mickey used to follow Terry and his older brothers around like a lost puppy, and he even got those fucking knuckle tats—but later in high school, Sandy remembered seeing something deep snap inside him, bleeding out in “STAY THE FUCK OUT” and “FUCK LOVE” signs taped onto his bedroom walls. At the time she thought it was the fucked-up shit with Terry and Mandy driving him up a wall— but now she realized the constant bombardment of homophobia, coupled with the cuts and bruises blooming on his cheeks and the cigarette burn scars on his arms, must have been signs of Mickey realizing the rude awakening that was inevitably going to come if he wanted to be who he was. Sandy couldn’t even imagine— no one really gave a shit who she fucked, and her cousins didn’t know anything about her sex life—but she couldn’t fathom being Terry’s son, the pride and joy of the Milkovich clan, and needing to outwardly admit those deeper parts of herself.

“Yup, I’m free to join civilization as of this morning. Overcrowding or some shit.” Sandy could hear Mickey also taking a drag of a cigarette on the other end of the line. She smirked to herself. Guess we both didn’t break the Milkovich nicotine addiction.

“So, uh, listen,” Mickey continued, and Sandy immediately knew he was in deep shit if she was the one he was calling to ask for a favor. “I’m in a bit of a… situation. Don’t wanna go into too many specifics, but there might be a massive fucking Mexican cartel after me right now.”

Sandy barked out a laugh before she could help herself. Fucking Mickey. “Oh yeah? Sounds like you’re feeling thrilled to be a free man again.”

Mickey chuckled again. “Fuck you. But hey, d’you think you can bring my shit by to me, so I don’t have to stop by the house and get fucking killed? You don’t gotta rush or whatever, just didn’t wanna show my face quite yet.”

Sandy could feel all the unsaid things wrapped in the way Mickey’s sentence ended. Didn’t want to show his face quite yet because of this cartel bullshit, or because of Terry? She decided it didn’t really matter— Mickey was a good guy, she could spend an hour or so rounding up his shit and bringing it to him if that’s what he needed.

“Got it.” She blew out more smoke, watching it curl and drift over the wasteland of the front yard on a gust of summer air.

Mickey cleared his throat, like he was gearing up to say more. When he spoke, his voice was softer around the edges, more genuine than before.

“I’m, uh. I’m sure you heard everything about me while I was gone. About Terry flipping his shit. Probably not the best idea for me to come around the house quite yet—my brothers n’ I haven’t really talked much since then either.” He paused, inhaling another drag of his cigarette. “I figured you’d get it. And hey, if you can bring the stuff by, I’d love to hear all the badass shit you’ve been up to the past few years.”

Sandy nearly winced—yeah, if by “badass shit” you mean getting forcibly married to a douchebag and then couch surfing for months— but she tried to keep her shit together for Mickey’s sake. She stubbed out her cigarette on the railing of the porch, straightening from where she was leaning.

“I’ve got it Mickey, don’t worry about it. Where are you right now, anyways?”

She could hear the hint of relief bleeding into Mickey’s voice when he replied. “I’m at the Gallagher house? The grey one by the tracks.”

Sandy rolled her eyes. “I was in jail for a couple of years Mickey, not braindead. I know where the Gallagher house is.”

Mickey huffed out a breath, but there wasn’t any sharpness in it. “Excuse me for tryin’ to be helpful, smartass.”

“Why the fuck are you there, anyways?”

“I’m, uh, crashing with my partner for now. Ian?”

Holy shit, Mickey was still fucking Ian Gallagher? Sandy had pieced together that Ian was the reason Mickey came out months after getting married to some Russian bitch, and according to Iggy the whole reason Mickey went to jail in the first place was some love-crazed revenge plot on Ian’s behalf— but since getting locked up Mickey hadn’t kept in touch with anyone, other than a shady-as-fuck message to his brothers after he’d busted out of prison letting everyone know that he was in Mexico, despite getting thrown back into jail in Chicago a couple months later. Sandy didn’t really know the details, and she especially didn’t know anything about Mickey’s love life— but it was wild as fuck that someone as unsettled and ruthless and batshit crazy as Mickey could’ve been with the same person all this time, especially someone as seemingly bland as Ian Gallagher. Huh. Wonder if I’ll get to see Ian.

“Got it. I’ll round up your shit and bring it by the Gallagher house later today. And don’t worry, I won’t let anyone know you called til you’re ready.”

Mickey exhaled on the other end of the line. “There shouldn’t be much, just check the drawers or whatever. “

Sandy knew for a fact that most of Mickey’s lingering possessions had probably been taken, sold, or thrown out by a zealously homophobic Terry by now, but she wasn’t going to say as much to Mickey over the phone.

“I’m on it. See you in a couple hours.”

“Hey, Sandy?” Mickey blew out a long breath, and this time Sandy couldn’t tell if it was because he was still smoking or because he was riding a wave of relief, releasing the floodgates of anxiousness he’d been holding in the whole conversation. “Thanks. I fuckin’ owe you one.”

Sandy smirked. Maybe Mickey being let out of jail early was a good thing, despite how fucked his whole situation seemed— maybe, for once, someone in her family would be fun to be around, wouldn’t set her teeth on edge every two seconds by making a racist comment or forcing her to be something she wasn’t.

“I’ll text you when I’m almost at your love nest.”

She imagined Mickey’s grin as he replied. “Fuck you. See ya soon.”

**

After scraping through every rickety dresser drawer in Terry’s house for nearly an hour, Sandy could barely come up with anything that was reportedly Mickey’s: a couple of tattered shirts, an impressively overused-looking bong, and a single sneaker she’d left behind because she couldn’t find the other one. She threw it all in some shitty burlap rucksack she’d found on one of the bedroom floors, assuming no one would miss it— it dawned on her that maybe her cousins were lying, and some of the other stuff in the house was still Mickey’s, but she’d collected what she could based on the whispered directions Alek and Iggy had given her when Terry was out of the room.

Sandy unlocked her phone, and typed a quick message to Mickey. “Out front.”

Mickey’s reply came quickly, and Sandy noticed the front curtains rustling on the top floor of the Gallagher house.

“Coming down”

The front door creaked open, and Mickey walked out onto the front porch. He looked good; he looked cleaner, sure, but also like a fucking adult—like he’d grown into himself, like he actually carried himself with confidence instead of just pretending to. He nodded his chin up at Sandy in acknowledgement.

“Long time no see.” He smirked, leaning on the banister. “You make a good delivery service. All those hauls we did with Terry must’ve been good training.”

Sandy lazily walked up the front steps, reaching the bag out in front of her for Mickey to take. “Here’s all the shit I could find. It’s not much.”

Mickey jerked his head to the open door behind him. “You wanna come in for a sec?”

Sandy grinned. Why the fuck not. “Sure."

So that was how she found herself perched on what was presumably Ian Gallagher’s bed, watching Mickey ruffle through the burlap bag, his brows furrowed as he realized just how much of his shit was actually gone.

“This everything?”

“As much as I could find.”

They comfortably chatted back and forth about how everyone was— Sandy decided to divulge the fact that Mickey’s brothers were idiots who tried to crawl in bed with her every night, which is something that she had to joke about so she didn’t go fucking insane sleeping under the same roof as them.

“Fuck ‘em, chop their nuts off next time they try it.”

Sandy smirked. Finally, a decent fucking relative. She made some hollow joke about staying with Mickey, alluding to the extra-shitty night decades ago when their cousins had forced them to make out when they were way too high on something.

“Or I could stay here with you. Have fun like we did when we were kids.”

“You know that’s fucked up, right? We’re fucking cousins!”

“Plus he’s taken.” A voice came from around the corner.

Ian Gallagher looked bigger, taller, and more solid than Sandy remembered; he was definitely miles away from the scrawny kid with the bangs who worked at the Kash N Grab that Sandy and her cousins endlessly used to fuck with in middle school. Ian’s shoulders were wide, his body imposing in the tiny room; immediately, Mickey’s aggravated stance softened when Ian walked in, wrapped in a towel from the waist down.

“Oh right, you.” Sandy grinned as Ian hunched over the bed and grabbed his deodorant from the nightstand.

Mickey had turned back to the bag of clothes. “Hey, I had shampoo and shit, is there soap anywhere?”

Sandy rolled her eyes. “You’ve been gone for years, you think your brothers would save that shit for you?” she bit out— and okay, maybe she was a little pissed at Mickey’s brothers for the constant-sexual-assault thing.

Ian just applied his deodorant and leaned in close to Mickey as he passed by the bed towards the doorframe. “You can use mine. We’ll hit Costco later, I’m getting paid.”

It was stupid, but Sandy felt something soft pang in her chest at Ian’s words; it was just now that she was realizing it, but she didn’t think she’d ever seen someone take care of Mickey before, or so… automatically factor Mickey’s needs into a situation. Being a Milkovich was all about scrounging and scraping, and guarding what little you had; a Milkovich would never let someone use their fucking soap just because they cared about them, or not as an immediate reaction anyways.

“Nah, I can’t, man. PO texted me when you were in the shower, he’s got a job for me.”

Ian kept looking at Mickey from where he was leaning in the doorway. “Then give me a list of shit you need, and I’ll pick it up for you,” Ian said in an overly simple tone, like he was mocking the fact that Mickey didn’t realize Ian would run an errand for him.

Sandy smirked. Jesus, Gallagher is whipped.

“Isn’t that cute, little domestic bitches,” Sandy crooned before she could help herself.

Ian stepped into the room again and leaned in towards Mickey, pressing a kiss to Mickey’s cheek while Mickey aggressively tried to uncrumple one of the pile of shirts from the bag.

“Mm, thank you,” Ian said in reply, his voice muffling as he smushed his face closer to Mickey’s.

Mickey instantly smiled smugly as Ian’s lips pressed against his cheek—then he noticed Sandy was staring, so he flipped her off and smiled even wider. What the fuck? Sure, Mickey had flipped Sandy off, but he was practically fucking beaming in a way that Sandy had never seen. God, wonder if I’ll find this shit someday.

Ian detached himself from Mickey and walked out of the room, Mickey’s eyes lingering on his torso. Once Ian had turned the corner Mickey snapped back to attention, fixing his eyes back onto the small mountain of clothes spread on the bed in front of him. Mickey lifted the bong off the bedsheets, and met Sandy’s gaze. 

“You have to go, or d’you wanna hang for a bit? I don’t have to be at work for a couple hours, and it’s gonna suck enough that I should probably be high before I get there.”

Sandy grinned. “Hell yeah, I’m down.”

**

They sat on the rickety back steps of the Gallagher house, silently taking hits and passing the bong back and forth. It had been years since they’d been in the same space, but Sandy and Mickey easily sank into a comfortable silence, passively surrounded by the shrieks of kids playing across the alleyway and the bubbling of water as they inhaled. Mickey blew smoke out of his nose, then sat back so he was leaning against the banister and passed the glass pipe to Sandy.

“So,” Sandy started as she held the lighter to the bong and inhaled deeply. “Ian Gallagher.”

Mickey huffed out a laugh. “Yup. That’s some Romeo and Juliet shit for ya.”

Sandy smirked as she exhaled. “You really fucking love him, huh?”

Mickey eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly as he looked towards her. “Yeah. Guess I do.” He took the bong from Sandy’s outstretched hand. “Took me forever to get shit straight with him, though.”

Ah. So their road to domestic bliss wasn’t as straightforward as it seemed. Sandy’s curiosity was growing.

“Because of shit with Terry?”

Mickey stiffened, coughing a bit as he exhaled smoke, like Sandy’s question caught him off guard. “Shit. Yeah. That too. Let’s just say there were lots of fucking ups and downs, and we both had a lot of shit to unpack.”

Sandy snickered. “You sound like a fucking couples therapist.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “If you wanna see couples therapy, I should tell you about the months me and Ian were sharing a fucking cell. We nearly ripped each other’s heads off. We literally stabbed someone so one of us might get sent to fucking solitary.”

Sandy’s laughter grew. “Are you fucking serious?”

Mickey grinned, and passed the bong back to Sandy again. “Fuck. Yeah. I fucking love him, though. He’s fucking crazy, and I still can’t let him go.” Mickey looked off into the distance across the alleyway, and either the weed was really hitting him right now, or he was being a very sappy motherfucker.

Sandy nudged Mickey’s knee. “You guys are cute together.” Mickey’s eyebrows raised when he heard the word “cute,” and Sandy quickly tried to rephrase. “Not cute, but y’know. Good for each other. You seem happy. Happy is... good.”

Mickey nodded pensively. “How’re you doing, anyways?”

Sandy shrugged noncommittally. “Eh. We can talk about me another time. How the fuck did you and Ian end up sharing a jail cell, anyways?”

Mickey let out a throaty laugh. “I heard Gallagher was getting locked up when I was down south, so I essentially pulled some strings and fucking snitched on the cartel I was working for. Hauled my ass back up here so we could be together.”

Holy fuck. Sandy’s jaw nearly dropped. “Mickey, you’re batshit crazy.” She shoved him squarely in the chest this time. “Are you fucking serious?! You evaded the feds, were living in Mexico, and you came back for Ian Gallagher?”

Mickey rolled his eyes again, placing the bong on the steps. “I can’t explain it, man. I just didn’t wanna be anywhere else, I guess.”

Sandy leaned back onto the banister. “Shit.” She paused for a moment, wondering if she should ask the next question. “Do you… want me to tell anyone you’re back?”

Mickey glanced over at her, his eyes alert. “Nah. Not yet. That okay with you?”

Sandy nodded. “Of course.” Mickey pulled out his phone, checking the time and presumably looking for a distraction from tiptoeing around talking about Terry— but Sandy had to tell him, had to let him know one more thing.

“Hey, Mickey?”

Mickey looked up. “Yeah?”

“I don’t really know the details of what went down with Terry, or whatever— but I just wanted to let you know that… if you ever wanna come home, I’m on your side. No questions asked. And I think a lot of the others are, too.”

The corner of Mickey’s mouth ticked upward. “Thanks.”

Sandy stood, checking her phone and zipping her leather jacket. “Well, I’d probably let you sober up a bit before your big parolee first day of work.”

Mickey raised a middle finger up to her from where he was seated, but then rose to stand.

“Thanks for comin’ by. And hey—you’re free to crash here anytime. There’s a million fucking kids running around all the time, but there’s always a couch or something open if everyone at home’s giving you too much shit.”

Sandy felt something warm growing in her chest. It had been a long fucking time since someone offered to take care of her, just because they could, just because they wanted to— maybe being a Milkovich wasn’t half bad. Maybe there were some good ones.

Sandy nodded in acknowledgement, and turned to walk down the creaky back steps. Wow. If Sandy was sure of one thing right now, it was that Mickey really, really fucking loved Ian Gallagher.

[writingwhimsey]

My Pirate Lord and Our Life Ch. 26

Chapter 26

Motonari exited the bedroom well after the sun had come up. It had been a long night with almost no sleep, but it's not like it was something he couldn't get through. He'd only been getting good quality sleep since being with Ava. He went straight to the bathroom to wash up and get ready for the day before going out into the living room.

Sasuke was still there and he was in the kitchen brewing some coffee. Tadashi and Ichiro were still there, they were seated at the dining table. it appeared that Hina was gone, as Motonari didn't see any sign of her. He was glad of that. Now he just had to figure out how to get rid of these two.

"Yer still here?" He asked gruffly, deciding he was done being friendly and playing their game.

Tadashi and Ichiro exchanged a look. "We wanted to apologize for the incident last night." Ichiro replied. "We didn't know that you would react that way."

"We really did just want to do something for you for a bachelor party." Tadashi replied.

"You really think I'm that stupid?" Motonari replied. He'd been curious about their plans last night, but he was tired of playing their games. "Ya clearly had the intentions of trying ta get me to do somethin' that would hurt Ava...make her mad at me."

"That's not at all what we were thinking." Tadashi replied.

"Though you did surprise us with how violently reacted to the potential massage." Ichiro said. "That seemed a bit concerning."

Motonari eyed the man. Tryin' ta find my weakness...tryin' ta find somethin' to exploit. I know the game well. He thought.

"Why don't we all have some breakfast?" Tadashi said. "Sasuke is warming up the food I had delivered. We can eat and maybe start over...again."

"I don't think so." Motonari replied. "Go ahead and eat, but I ain't tryin' ta make friends."

"I believe Motonari is right and you guys should probably leave after eating." Sasuke added as he brought the plates of food on the table.

Just then the door to the apartment was opening, Ava and Misa walking in. Motonari watched Ava's face as she took in the sight. She definitely seemed surprised and not in the good way to see Tadashi and Ichiro there.

"What in the hell are you two doing here?" She asked.

Motonari was happy to see that she wasn't happy to see them.

"We were just here trying to get to know your husband and make friends." Tadashi answered. "With him not being from around here, we figured he could use some friends."

"Exactly, you can never have too many friends." Ichiro replied. "And of course as your friends, we have to check on his worthiness of you."

"I don't believe a single word that just came out of either of your mouths." Ava replied. "And last time I checked Ichiro, you and I weren't friends. We were nothing anymore."

"Ava, you know I never stopped caring about you." Ichiro said, as he stood up to walk towards Ava.

Motonari was fighting the urge to knock the guy down. He kept his eyes on his girl, though watching her reaction and he had a feeling she could handle herself. He also had this feeling based on her reaction that the story Ichiro fed him about them parting as friends was as much a lie as everything else he'd been saying.

Ava moved to the side and made her way over to Motonari. He read her movements and put an arm around her waist, pulling her close.

"You know, I was really disappointed when I found out I missed Motonari and Tadashi meeting for the first time, but I am so glad I get to see this." Misa said. "I think this is ten times better."

Just then there was a knock on the door. Misa opened it and the woman from last night, Hina was on the other side. She smiled. "Hey, Misa."

"Hina?" Misa and Ava both said, having known this woman apparently.

"The guys called me over last night and I left, but I realized I was missing an earring and I think I may have lost it in your couch." Hina said. "Mind if I come in and look for it?"

"Sure." Misa said, stepping aside.

Ava seemed to be watching Hina. "You still do the massage thing, Hina?" Ava asked after a moment.

"Yup. That's why the guys called me over." She answered.

"I see." Ava said, looking pointedly at Tadashi and Ichiro.

So, somehow Ava and Misa knew Hina and knew what it was she did for a living. Motonari was starting to feel somewhat worried that Ava might be getting the wrong idea. But she also knew his sensitivities and knew that she was the only one he touched.

"Ah, there it is." Hina declared. "Well, it was great to see you Ava. And so nice to meet you and get to know you last night, handsome. Ava you're one lucky girl to have that one." She then walked out the door with a wave.

That was definitely made to try and make me look bad. Motonari thought.

"Wow." Ava said, looking at Ichiro and Tadashi.

"What's that look for?" Ichiro asked.

"Yeah, we just..." Tadashi began but Ava held up her hand.

"You guys hired Hina to try and set up Motonari." Ava said.

Motonari was having a hard time hiding his smile. Ava clearly knew what was up and she wasn't about to fall for their trick. His girl was smart and she knew him well enough to know that he wasn't going to do anything.

Tadashi and Ichiro exchanged a look again. "Alright, so we did hire Hina to come in, but it was as a test. I mean you did just meet the guy." Tadashi explained.

"Yes, we wanted to make sure he was loyal." Ichiro said.

Misa snickered from her place. "You talking about loyalty is real rich, Ichiro."

"I made that mistake once. I wasn't about to make it again." Ava said, looking pointedly at Ichiro.

"I knew you two were up to something with all of that." Motonari said.

"We just wanted to make sure he was good enough for you." Ichiro said. "And we did learn that he has a temper. You should have seen the way he reacted to Hina trying to give him a massage."

"We're worried, with that kind of temper..." Tadashi began.

Motonari cut him off this time. "I'd cut off my own hand before I ever raised it to Ava."

"He's even violent about being non-violent." Tadashi said.

"Ava, we're worried. We just want..." Ichiro began.

Ava held up her hand. "You're both full of shit and need to get out of my house now."

"Ava..." Tadashi tried to interject.

"I said get out. You're only made because your little plan failed." Ava replied. "And I don't need anyone to decide who is worthy of me. I decide who I spend my life with and it's not either one of you two. So leave."

"I will happily throw them out." Misa declared.

"We were just about to eat, though." Tadashi replied.

"Take the food and get out then." Ava said.

"Ava..." Ichiro spoke.

"Get.The. Fuck. Out." Ava said, definitely getting angry.

"Oh, you made Ava use the big girl words." Misa said, grinning. "Get out guys before I call the cops."

Tadashi and Ichiro raised their hands as if in surrender and finally left. Ava turned to Motonari as soon as they were gone, her anger cooling and concern in her eyes as she looked at him. "You okay?" She asked.

Motonari smiled at her as he pulled her closer. "I'm fine." He then kissed her lips, it was a light touch, but it was enough to spark a fire in both of them. Motonari was proud of how Ava had handled herself. He was also incredibly happy to see just how much she trusted him and to see that she was on his side no matter what.

Misa was looking at Sasuke. "Hey, ninja boy, why won't you and I go grab a bite? I get the feeling that these two are going to talk and we won't want to be around for it."

"Agreed." Sasuke replied.

Misa and Sasuke were then heading out the door, letting Motonari and Ava have some privacy. When the pair were outside, Misa noticed that Ichiro and Tadashi were out in the parking lot, seemingly waiting around.

Misa approached them with a smug smile. "Your little plan completely backfired." She declared.

"What?" Tadashi asked.

"Sasuke and I are heading out to grab a bite because frankly, I don't want to be in there hearing those two right now." Misa explained. "Pretty sure they're just getting even closer than ever."

She then walked off, Sasuke following after her. Sasuke seemed to be pondering something. "Why did you say that to them?" Sasuke asked after a moment.

"Because they really pissed Ava off for one thing...but also Ichiro really hurt Ava." Misa answered. "They broke up three years ago...and...it was a pretty hard time for Ava. He was a complete asshole and frankly deserves every bit of pain reflected back on him."

"I see." Sasuke replied. "You really care about Ava, don't you?"

"She's my best friend." Misa replied. "Speaking of, I'm glad you and I get to chat alone."

"Why is that?"

"Because when you guys go back I am going with you." Misa replied. "I want to be sure Ava is safe and healthy during her pregnancy...and so I am going to need your advice on things I should take and possibly even some skills I will need to survive."

"Why are you asking me and not Ava?"

"Because she doesn't know yet. I know she'll try and talk me out of it, but I have to go back and make sure she's safe. Will you please help me?"

"Of course." Sasuke replied giving her a small smile.

Chapter 27 below!

https://writingwhimsey.tumblr.com/post/668967173464686592/my-pirate-lord-and-our-life-ch-27

[tiredcowpoke]

TITLE: Blank Spots [20] PAIRING: (Somewhat pre-established) Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader, could be seen as an OC. REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: After waking up at the base of a steep incline and nearly freezing to death, you stumble upon a group of strangers who swear up and down that they know you. WARNINGS: Some creative license for amnesia. Violence, kidnapping.  NOTE: Chapter 20, damn. lol I’m not feeling 100% about this chapter but I wanted to get something out this weekend. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy.      TAG LIST: @on-my-way-to-erebor / @otherthingstoreid @ireallyhonestlydontcare @elanisha @darlingsdevil @cirillamylove @bunnyreese12 @rollyjogerjones @callmemythicalminx @r4reland @itsnothingwithoutchaos

You knew there was some conflict in you about how everything turned out, the hurt Arthur caused still lingering somewhat but you knew you had to take that as it were.

Yet, you felt good. It felt good to finally cross that point with him--again. Perhaps things weren’t the same as they were in your memory, how sure you were in your relationship with him. However, things weren’t the same since Blackwater. You knew that even when your memory had been worse than it was currently, struggling to remember names and faces, let alone whole relationships. A part of you felt like you may never fully remember your relationship with Arthur, but you felt like you had finally taken a step in the right direction with your relationship with him currently. 

Admittedly, it had been a little difficult to leave the small privacy of that beach where you had kissed him a couple days ago. To return to camp, to the dilemmas and course of normalcy you had found within. As normal as a group of outlaws could get, at least. For a while, you weren’t sure how Arthur wanted to approach this development, if it was worth telling people. You had realized that it would just be announcing what they already knew, but...well, maybe you were just overthinking that. 

Really, it seemed like Arthur just took it in stride. Too exhausted to make a thing out of it, or if there was a point to doing so. A part of you was relieved. 

Still, you did catch a couple eyes at the added bounce to your step, and the lingering touches when Arthur would seek you out as he was starting to move about on his own a little more frequently. He seemed to avoid outright public affection, something you had caught onto pretty quickly, but the two of you weren’t exactly hiding it. Still, nobody really felt the need to comment on it much outside of the odd question, which you found yourself not really minding. 

It felt like you were allowed to let it go where it may without getting caught up in old expectations. Though, you weren’t too sure on where Arthur’s head was at, but he didn’t seem overly disappointed over that. You’d just have to trust him to tell you if he had an issue with anything. 

Despite everything that happened to him, Arthur eventually seemed to return to his normal self after a while. A little thicker in beard and with a stiffer shoulder, but otherwise he seemed to have gathered himself back up after the whole ordeal with the O’Driscolls. You were greatly relieved at that, as much as you knew he would have to get back to gang business and what that entailed. 

So, you weren’t too surprised to find him approach you one late afternoon with news that he had business in town with Bill and some other gang members. 

“You sure you got the strength for whatever that will be?” you asked, Arthur rolling his previously injured shoulder somewhat. 

“‘Bout as much as I’ll need,” he replied, “Can’t stay here forever, I gotta get back to what needs doin’.” 

“I know,” you replied, giving him a small smile, “I just don’t want you hurting yourself again. I don’t think anybody can take you stuck in bed for another couple weeks.” 

“Myself included,” he returned with a small huff. 

As much as you had tried to cover it with a touch of humor, you really did worry he might injure himself again by getting back out there so soon. At all, really. You knew what type of life he led, what they all led, and the chance of a bullet to the skull was always high. You could remember the way Arthur had fallen off his horse that night, how he barely was able to move his legs to get to his cot. You had struggled with the feeling at the time, but you knew that regardless of how everything had developed after, you didn’t want to see him like that again. 

Yet...well, there was always a chance that you just might. 

“You’ll be safe?” you asked after a moment, glancing at him. Arthur shifted, glancing down for a moment before meeting your gaze. 

“Hate to be the one to say it, but I ain’t afforded that luxury. Not with this life.” 

He did have a point, as much as you didn’t like that answer. 

“Hey, I’m gonna be fine,” Arthur said after a moment, “Bill’s probably just got some lead, nothin’ too complicated.” 

“Because everything lately has been so easy…” you muttered, stepping into his side as Arthur reached out to wrap an arm around your shoulder, a small grin touching your face when you felt him press a kiss to the side of your head. 

“It’s gonna be fine.” 

“Alright,” you replied with a nod, letting out a small sigh as you wrapped an arm around his back somewhat, “You know what you’re doing. Just be careful--for my sake, if anything.” 

“I’ll try,” he replied, squeezing you to his side a little before releasing the embrace. You turned to face him once he had done so, watching as he seemed to glance off toward the horses for a moment before turning back toward you. 

“Been thinkin’ we should head out to get the last of that treasure map,” he said after a moment, pulling a small grin from you, “Get outta here for a bit.” 

“I’d like that,” you said with a nod, “Let all this play out first, though.” 

“Yeah…” he replied, giving you a small grin of his own as you squeezed his arm somewhat before he turned to head out toward the horses. 

You were worried, but you couldn’t fight the inevitable with Arthur turning his attention back to the gang. Perhaps it was a touch selfish, but you also knew everything that had happened had shaken you up some. Still, you were going to have to let that go. Some of it. You knew you had questions and a distrust of Micah that stemmed from what he did to you on that mountain and now what happened with Arthur. 

That was a touch subject to approach, yet one you knew you would have to mention to Arthur eventually. It was just...hard to talk about. There was Micah himself, but even the memory of it filled you with such dread and fear. 

Still, it couldn’t continue to go unsaid. 

“Glad to see that fight you two was havin’ is cleared up,” a familiar voice from behind you said, turning to glance over your shoulder to see Abigail standing there. 

She stood there with a cup of coffee, giving you a small smile as you let out a small huff. 

“Yeah, and then some,” you replied as she walked up to stand beside you as she finished off her beverage. 

“If only I could get John to see some damn sense. Ain’t from lack of tryin’,” she said around a sigh, you giving her a small nod. 

It wasn’t the same screaming matches you heard from Dutch and Molly, and lord had those only gotten worse, but you knew Abigail and John had their moments in camp. Really, when you saw Abigail storming out from that tent they shared, you knew to give her some space. Still, you weren’t witness to the specifics of their relationship--well, if you had, it didn’t matter with your memory now. 

“Grimshaw’s sayin’ Pearson needs a hand with dinner,” Abigail said after a moment, “Figure two hands might get us eatin’ all the quicker.” 

Honestly, that didn’t sound too bad. You would need the distraction. You followed her out toward the food wagon once she had gotten her fill of the moment she had walked in on between you and Arthur. Still, even with the chopping of the vegetables and meat, you still couldn’t really shake this feeling that lingered at your back. You just...well, you were worried. That was what it was, and you were sure you would end up feeling foolish for it when they all returned back to camp. 

Thankfully, your partial absentmindedness didn’t cost you a finger or injury. Though, you were pulled from your thoughts when you felt Abigail touch your shoulder, a look of mild irritation crossing her expression. 

“Think I can wrap up the rest,” she said, “Think you can Jack for me? I think he’s playin’ in the woods near the edge of the river. Maybe the boy’ll listen to you quicker while I finish here.” 

You let out a soft chuckle, passing her the last of the food you had to chop up. “We’ll see, but sure.” 

Rinsing your hands in one of the washbasins nearby, you headed out toward the mouth of the river near the path leading out of camp. You didn’t see any sign of him from where you stood--he wasn’t tossing rocks into the water or drawing in the dirt with a stick like he usually was. You could feel a small twist to your gut, hoping that he was just in the tree line and you wouldn’t have to wander off to find him. 

You dropped down onto the bank, following it along until you were able to step up and into the trees. You paused for a moment, listening for anything before walking further in. 

“Jack?” you called out, pausing in your walk, “Your mama’s looking for you!” 

Silence. More twisting in your gut. You really hoped he was just playing a game not wandered off or…

You moved with more purpose into the trees, calling his name once more before you heard some movement nearby. However, as you did so, you heard a muffled cry that sounded from very close nearby. Yet, as you turned to look in that direction, something very solid and hard jabbed into the centre of your back. The pain radiated up your spine, settling hard in your kidneys as you felt your knees hit the ground. 

“Stay down!” an unknown voice hissed, your eyes lifting as someone stepped out from around a tree. He had his hand pressed against Jack’s mouth as he squirmed in his grasp. Instantly, you tried to stand up but you felt a hard kick to your side in retaliation. 

“I said ‘stay down!’” the voice behind you said, hissing the words between his teeth before the man holding Jack spoke up. 

“The hell’re you doin’?” he demanded, “We was just to get the kid.” 

“What? Have her run back into that camp and tell everybody what happened? We’ll have them all on us ‘fore we can even get anythin’ outta this.” 

What?

“We ain’t got time for this,” the man in front of you replied, “Take ‘em both.” 

You heard Jack let out a cry behind the hand over his mouth, however you didn’t really get the chance to fully process what was happening before you felt a solid hit to the back of your head. Instantly, you heard ringing in your ears, before another hit sent you into darkness. 

                                                            ***

Your head was pounding, feeling the sway of a horse under you as you could feel the strain of your arms tucked behind your back. Blinking open your eyes, you saw the ground under you moving with the quick strides of the horse you were currently slung over the back of. You took in the breath before the events from before flooded into your head, causing you to jerk your head up. You could see passing trees as you were rode down some large pathway, seeing another rider ahead with an arm wrapped around Jack. 

Twisting, you tried to see if you could roll off the horse but the tug at your shoulder told you that you were secured to the back of the saddle. Shit, no. 

You thought about yelling, screaming, trying to see if anybody would catch on but with how fast they were riding up the path and how empty the area seemed to be, you knew it would only just make things worse. 

It wasn’t long before you caught sight of the large structure at the end of the path--a plantation house. You squirmed as they stopped outside the steps, hearing Jack let out a yell as he was pulled from the horse in front of you. The rider of the one you were on the back off slipped off his saddle as the doors to the house opened, your world swaying somewhat as you were pulled to the ground. 

You grunted as your face hit the gravel, likely leaving a couple cuts as you grit your teeth against the sharp and familiar headache. 

“I told you to only get the boy,” a woman’s voice said from the stairs above you. 

“She walked in on us,” you heard the man holding Jack say as you felt a pair of hands grip at your arms, hauling you to your feet. “Guess we’ll have to see what we can do with this one.” 

“Damn useless,” the woman replied, your gaze lifting to see her beckon your captors inside. You nearly tripped over your own feet as you were shoved forward, catching the steps before being dragged up them and into the house. 

You could hear Jack crying, a part of you wanting nothing more than to comfort the kid but you knew it would be only so fleeting if you didn’t get out of here. 

“Bronte’s men are coming within the hour to pick up the boy,” she continued, “I don’t see why they would take her too, but I’ll have to figure something out. Separate them.” 

“What the hell does that mean? Who is that?” you demanded, despite yourself, “H-He’s just a little boy! Please!” 

“Shut her up,” the woman demanded, sounding much like she was done with the situation as Jack called your name. 

“It’s going to be okay, Jack!” you called out as he was carried away from you toward another room. You heard a chuckle behind you, a tug on your arm turning you roughly toward the stairs leading to the upper floors. 

“Sure is,” your captor stated, “Boy’s goin’ to Saint Denis, but you? We’ll get you sorted out.”

[lettersnorth]

Prompt #1: Foster

“Go again.” 

The youth looked down at the paltry pile of pebbles on his side of the dusty cavern floor and furrowed his brow in consideration. 

His opponent, also stuck straddling that awkward line between boy and man, held out something enclosed in the shell of his cupped hands and waited. And waited. This far beneath Ala Mhigo the tunnels were deathly silent. Deeper in there lay a trail of torches to light the way but here there was only the flickering lantern light between them. The shadows along the walls jumped every time the candle flame spit. 

“Gods’ blood, Connor! Go!” Rundulf finally exploded. The sound of his exasperation bounced off the walls of the catacombs that ran like a rabbit’s warren beneath the city. 

When the Garlean Empire had finally moved in over the tattered remnants of the beleaguered city-state, the Imperial army had sealed the tombs, the last resting place of Ala Mhigan dead. To keep out the ‘rabble rousers’. It might have worked if the Empire had found and sealed all the entrances. But they had failed to understand what a labyrinth they had on their hands. Miles of tunnels going back hundreds of years. It was all too easy for an intrepid Resistance to make camp within a few long forgotten spaces. A secure place for seditious talk. 

“Don’t rush me.” 

Or, an idle argument between two bored adolescents attempting to stay alert with nothing but stone and dust around them. 

“Pick a bleedin’ number or I swear to Rhalgr I’ll --”

“Three high.” 

Rundulf grunted and opened his hands, sending a cascade of flat stones clattering to the dirt. The boys leaned over the stones, peering in the dim lantern light to see which ones had landed with their white painted faces up, if any. 

Alas, only two displayed their pale faces.

“Ha! That’s another for me!” Rundulf crowed, a fist punching up into the darkness. 

Shaking his head, Connor flicked a pebble from his ever-dwindling pile towards Rundulf’s own. “Gods, I hate this game. Can’t we do somethin’ else?”

Just then, beyond the lantern’s reach came the soft sound of a throat being intentionally cleared. And the game was suddenly and hastily forgotten. With eyes wide with surprise, Connor grabbed the lantern and swung it in the direction of the noise as Rundulf surged to his feet, ready for a fight. 

The swinging lantern light fell on one slight and slender girl and both boys visibly relaxed. Aislinn was nearly half their size, a spindly collection of knees and elbows destined to forever be the runt among them. The antithesis of a threat. 

“What’re you doin’ down here, North?” Connor sighed, lowering the light. 

“Lookin’ for da.” she said simply as she made to pass them, only to have Rundulf block the way. 

“You know he’s with the others. Plannin’ out next steps. He’ll be up when they’re done.” 

“I didn’t know that.” 

Connor laughed as he knelt down and collected the stones again in preparation for another round. “Not sure you were supposed to either. Good job, Rundulf.” 

The larger boy, realizing his mistake, merely folded his arms across his chest and grunted. The less he said, the better. 

“Sit and play a few rounds, Aislinn. They should be heading up soon.” Connor said, clattering the stones in his hands. 

She studied him for a long moment and then wordlessly shook her head. The catacombs were as dark and foreboding as she remembered. It was bad enough that she had ventured this far on her own. When they were children she had been forced to spend a night down in this place, sharing a sarcophagus with a moldering skeleton. A fact he should have remembered just as well as her. She had no intention of staying and ending up the subject of another cruel child’s prank. 

“What’re they discussing?” she asked instead. 

Rundulf sullenly shrugged and broke his silence. “Probably tryin’ to figure out a abetter way to get information out to the other cells. Last two runs didn’t go so well.” 

Aislinn peered down the tunnel. “They aren’t choosin’ the right people.” 

“Says you.” Connor snorted. 

“I do.” she replied, turning that unerring gaze back on him. It was unsettling. The way she spoke so flat. She was too serious by half. It was too old an expression set in too young a face and it crawled under his skin. A part of him was almost certain she knew it too. 

“Suppose you know who they should send.” 

She jutted her chin up. “I could do it.” 

Rundulf’s guffaw echoed off the stone. “Don’t think they’re that desperate yet.” 

“I just caught you two unaware. And you’re supposed to be on watch. I coulda snuck right past and you’d have kept playin’ your game.” she countered. 

Rundulf opened his mouth to reply but Connor held up a quelling hand. “We’re flattered, Aislinn but we ain’t exactly Imperial patrols now, are we? Those runs are serious. You need your wits about you the entire time.”

“Are you explainin’ a run to me like I haven’t been here just as long as you?” Aislinn asked, her question more of a barbed statement than anything. 

Her tone must have gotten through, for in the lantern light she could see the tips of Connor’s ears go red with embarrassment. 

“Clearly someone needs to. Your da is never goin’ to let you go. No matter how much you keep harpin’ on him. It’s gettin’ pathetic.” 

Aislinn blinked at him. The only sign that his words had struck true. He regretted them the moment they were out of his mouth. He was forever doing the wrong thing when it came to her. Forever the arse. 

Wordlessly, she turned and retreated out of reach of the lantern light, back the way she had come. He groaned under his breath and hung his head. 

“Look, maybe it needed to be said.” Rundulf said, returning to his side of the makeshift playing field. 

“Shut up.” 

“Coulda let someone else do it though.”

“Shut up.” 

“Fine. Go again.” 

With an air of resignation Connor held the stones out over the floor when there came the sudden sound of swift steps hitting the dirt. Once again Connor and Rundulf sprung up but Aislinn was quicker. One stride, two, a dodge to the left, a duck under Rundulf’s swinging arm and she breezed past them, down the corridor towards the meeting of generals. 

“Gods damn it!” 

She heard them giving chase and almost laughed. In a world where it seemed everyone was bigger and stronger, Aislinn had learned to be faster. They would never win in a race against her. She sailed down the torchlit passage with an elated sort of satisfaction. 

The three careened around the bend, Aislinn remaining just frustratingly out of reach until they burst into the large burial chamber at the end of the tunnel. The men and women gathered within turned in haste towards the interruption. The slithering sound of several swords leaving their scabbards drew Aislinn up short with Rundulf and Connor stumbling behind her in their effort not to bowl her over. 

“Hold.” 

“It’s just a couple of young ones.”

“Bloody hells, aren’t those th’ ones you put on watch, Jorund? Fat lot o’ good it did.” 

Winded, her wide eyes took in the gathering amidst the flickering torchlight and for a sparse moment she regretted the impulse that had driven her here. No. A small voice inside refused to let her back down. She was tired of sitting on the side lines. Tired of watching the others do their part while hers seemed to always be to sit at home and anxiously wait for their return. Passed over time and again. She could do something. She could be useful. Why couldn’t anyone see that?

“I can do it.” she said, hating the way her voice sounded so small in the cavernous chamber. She shook her head and tried again. “I can do it. I can make the run.” 

“Aislinn?” her father’s voice rumbled the way it always did but in this space it seemed to reverberate. He was a wall of a man and he didn’t so much push through the others as much as they parted for him. Thick arms folded across the barrel of his chest as he stared down at her. Looking into his storming eyes she knew there would be a talk about this later. 

“You’re looking for people to make the run, aren’t you?” she pressed. “To pass information to the cells outside? I can do it.”

“No.” Jorund ground out. 

“Yes, I can. I made it past those two. Probably could’ve snuck right by without them lifting their heads.” she waved an arm back towards Rundulf and Connor who stood catching their breath. They passed each other a dark look. “I’m quick. I’m nearly invisible. No one pays me any mind. And those patrols aren’t going to be looking for someone like me. They’re not going to suspect me of carrying Resistance intel.” 

There was the briefest pause of silence and then, “She makes a good point, Jorund.” one of the other men spoke up. 

“I said no.” Jorund snapped his head towards the man, glaring in his direction.

“We’ve been sending our boys who could fight if it came down to it but maybe that’s the problem. They look like they could fight. Empire ain’t gonna look twice at this wisp of a girl.” he continued on, undeterred. 

“And if she runs into trouble?” a woman next to him countered. 

“You heard her, she can run.” 

“She can outrun two boys, not a imperial patrol, Bernier. I don’t know about you but I’m not comfortable sending a girl headlong into the waiting arms of Garleans.”

Behind her, Aislinn heard Connor make a low noise in the back of his throat that sounded distinctly like an ‘I told you so’ to her.

“Oh, but sending our boys is alright?” 

“Don’t pull that shite. I know as well as anyone here what a patrol will do to the girl if they get their hands on her.”

“I’m tellin’ you, they ain’t gonna be looking twice.” 

“Quiet.” Jorund’s voice, instead of rising to meet the others, had grown soft and still. It brought an immediate halt to any conversation. He stared down at Aislinn with a dark sort of anger but she saw something behind that. Something raw and broken. Something that told her he would forever see her as the child she had been, the little girl he had bounced on his knee. And any hope she had fostered of taking a meaningful part in this Resistance faded to nothing. She knew his answer before he even opened his mouth. 

“She’ll get caught. And do you think she’ll hold up under questioning? Or do you think she’ll spill every little detail she knows and bring the Empire down on us? We’re the only ones feedin’ th’ others intel from the inside. We can’t let something like tha’ happen.” he growled and though he spoke to the others, he kept his flinty gaze trained on her, hammering the words home. Willing her to understand once and for all. “She’s too much of a risk. Send Connor.”

------

(The result of Connor’s run can be found here.)

[astralaffairs]

how about #23 "Just pretend to be my date.” with our man thomas? 👀 a good ol' fake dating au

oml i LOVE this prompt and had soso much fun writing this

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"Fancy meetin' you here."

You turned with a start to the voice behind you, eyes wide, until you saw who stood there wearing an entertained grin, one hand tucked in his pocket and the other holding a red solo cup. You stood beside the table of drinks at yet another frat party, having just cut away from your group of friends in order to grab yourself something -- you were still too far on the boring side of sober.

"Thomas, hey!" you exclaimed, "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"I do live upstairs, sweetheart," he said with a raised eyebrow, and you could feel your cheeks heat. You were both well aware you knew he'd been a member of Sigma Pi since you were both freshmen, but this was still one of few times you'd actually seen him at a party.

"I know that," you defended, and he chuckled as he took a sip of his drink. "I just didn't expect to run into you. It's a big place."

"Oh, so you've been avoidin' me?" he challenged, grin broadening, and you rolled your eyes as you poured yourself another Kamchatka.

"What gave it away?" you said, tone dry, and he shrugged.

"That you've gotten pretty good at makin' yourself hard to find," he said, and though his voice was light, playful, when you looked up at him, his raised eyebrow and piercing gaze had you unsure as to whether or not it was a joke. But then his expression relaxed, breaking your stare as he surveyed the party. "Not that I've been lookin' for you, or anythin'."

"Mhm." His demeanor had fallen flat, his nonchalance more jarring than his teasing. He stood with his back against the counter, and when you turned to join him, you playfully checked your hip against his. Though he chose that moment to take a sip of his drink (a coincidence you suspected wasn't so coincidental), you could see the corners of his lips quirk. "Don't play coy, Jefferson; I know how charming I am."

He laughed outright at that, and though your words had been a joke, you were more than ready to take offense at his reaction. "Hey, no false pretenses here. Wasn't I the one who just said I've been lookin' for you?"

He glanced down at you with that, appearing to be entertained by the skeptical look in your eye. "Last I checked, you were the one who denied having been looking for me."

There was a skip, with that. Your tone was challenging, and he recognized it for what it was. While you stared up at him expectantly, your eyebrows shot up when his eyes roamed down your figure. "Alright, then maybe just a couple false pretenses."

"What exactly are you implying?"

"Aw, what, I'm not allowed to have missed you?" His overly-dramatic pout made you smile -- it definitely wasn't that his words were getting to you, or anything; you just didn't feel the need to hide your amusement at his antics. Regardless, you did turn your head to the crowd before you. "'M not allowed to want you?"

You breath caught at his words. His tone had dropped an octave, was closer to a low, gruff hum, and though you weren't facing him, you could tell by how clear his words were that he'd dipped down to murmur the words to you. Your eyes were almost comically wide, and you couldn't bear to turn back to him, couldn't stand to meet his gaze.

"Excuse me?" was all you managed in response, your voice breathy and clipped, and you could feel his warm breath brush over your neck with his light laugh.

"'M I not allowed to wanna spend time with you?" he responded, as though to repeat what he'd said before. The words almost sounded patronizing. His voice was back to normal; you could feel on the skin of your shoulder that he'd moved back to where he was standing.

You wide eyes then held disbelief instead of unease as you looked up at him. He stood casually, a hand in his pocket as he took another sip of his drink, and the only sign you hadn't imagined his words altogether was the tiny, smug grin he wore that told you he was relishing in his effect on you. He let you look on skeptically another moment before he finally glanced back down, shrugging. "What?"

"You've gotta be kidding me," you huffed, and he pursed his lips to keep his smile from growing.

"Now, I'm just not sure what you're talkin' about," he said frankly, and you scoffed loudly enough for him to hear it over the clamor of the party. "You accusin' me of somethin'?"

"Forget it," you muttered bitterly, averting your eyes from his ever-growing ego.

"Aw, don't be so hostile, now." He jabbed you lightly with his elbow, his stare teasing, and though you shied away from the touch, his smile was unfortunately contagious. "I better not have spent all that time lookin' for you for nothin'."

"Not my fault if you're too obnoxious for me to live up to expectations," you replied.

"No worries, sweetheart; you always do." You rolled your eyes, but he didn't seem to be joking; his sharp gaze burned right through you, and a shiver ran down your spine. A skip passed in (relative) silence -- that is, if you didn't consider the ruckus carrying on all around you. You bit your lip when he didn't look away. "Hey, what d'you say we--"

"Y/N!"

You both looked left, following the strident voice that sounded over the crowd, and as if on cue, you both groaned -- and not for entirely different reasons. Your pseudo-ex, Samuel Seabury, was shoving his way through the crowd toward you. You'd dated him in your freshman year -- it wasn't even a relationship, as you saw it. You'd gone on three dates to try and alleviate his fixation on you. You pinched the bridge of your nose when you saw him getting caught behind the football team. (Your hope that he wouldn't emerge from the other side proved to be futile.)

"Cockblock," Thomas muttered into his cup, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

"What was that?"

"Good luck with him," he continued, ignoring your interjection entirely, and when he began to take a step away from you, your eyes widened.

"Hey, you're leaving?"

"I'm not tryin' to spend my night with that weasel." He tried to continue, but you grabbed him by the arm, doing your best to pull him back. Your strength didn't exactly overpower him, but it did manage to dissuade him from his retreat.

"But you're leaving me with him?"

Amusement shone in his eyes at how panicked you looked, and he took a step back toward you. "And what's it do for you if I stay?"

"I need an excuse to get away from him. Please, Thomas?" He looked at you dubiously, though he was clearly intrigued by your distress.

"I dunno about that."

"Come on, please, just--" Though your grip was digging into his arms as you tried to deter him from leaving, it still tightened when you looked back to see Samuel almost having reached you. However, your fraught history with him gave you an idea. "Pretend to be my date."

"What?"

"Pretend to be my date!" you repeated, your voice then all but a hiss, but he didn't look convinced.

"Y/N, I--"

"Y/N!" It was then Samuel who cut him off as he finally sidled up to where you stood, and if you didn't find his presence so disgusting, you might've found his timid smile endearing. "Hey, where have you been all night? I was trying to find you before, but--"

"I just got here," you said, plastering on a smile, and though you didn't bother trying to hold him in place, knowing perfectly well he could pull away from you whenever he chose to, Thomas stood by you, and you loosened your grip on his arm. Fortunately, with the way you stood, you could've passed for a couple -- that is, assuming Sam hadn’t noticed the growing fury in your body language just moments before he reached you. He raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, really?" he asked, and though you rarely gave him the benefit of the doubt, you had to believe the surprise in his doe-eyed stare was in earnest. "Why not? The party started hours ago."

"Didn't have a ride," you replied quickly, giving a shrug that you hoped came off as nonchalant but knew was as stiff as could be.

"But your roommate's been here for hours. Didn't you come with her?" By then, his curiosity had begun to sound more interrogating than innocent.

"Oh! I, uh--"

"She came with me." You let out a sigh of relief when Thomas cut in, placing his other hand atop where yours rested on his arm. You undoubtedly looked as grateful as you felt. "We were out together, before, and I ended up makin' us just a little bit late."

He winked, smiling down at you, and you turned back to Samuel with a shrug. "We might've lost track of time."

"Oh..." He eyed the two of you hesitantly, not quite sure what to make of your dynamic, but Thomas certainly seemed to be enjoying himself.

"'M sorry about that; 's my fault, really." He squeezed your hand, and all the bashfulness in his gaze was painfully contrived, but Samuel seemed to be slowly growing too sour to notice. "I'd apologize for keepin' her all to myself, but can you really blame me?"

"I guess not," Samuel answered slowly, eyes narrowed; he seemed to be searching for anything he could find out of place with the two of you. "So, what, you two are--"

"Really running late," you cut him off, and when he folded his arms, you could feel your smile tighten into a borderline grimace. "So sorry to leave right after running into you, but we promised we'd meet someone."

"Who?" he challenged, and you could feel yourself beginning to tense in fury. You saw Thomas wince out of the corner of your eye when your nails began to dig into his forearm.

"Samuel--"

"'S no one you'd know," Thomas said mildly as he laced his fingers into yours (most likely with the intent of stopping your sharp nails from breaking his skin, but the action looked affectionate nonetheless).

"Oh, are you sure? Because I might--"

"Nah, we're actually only here for a bit. Weren't plannin' to stay long; just promised we'd show our faces at the party, go stop by and see 'em," Thomas reasoned, and despite how annoyed Samuel slowly seemed to be growing, he couldn't say much in response at that point. "Occupational hazard, I guess. Comes along with bein' part of the fraternity."

"Then I guess I won't keep you," Samuel said, voice tentative, and you gave him a stiff smile as you began tugging Thomas away alongside you.

"Thanks, Sam, really." You genuinely gave your best effort at sounding warm as you started on your way past him. "It's always good to see you."

"You too, Y/N!" he replied, and you could hear him growing frantic as you began to push out of earshot. "Y'know, you can always call me if--"

Your eyes widened when Thomas stopped in his tracks, turning back to Samuel, but he ignored your urgent look. "Thanks, but she's got a better offer," Thomas called back at him, and though his voice had been light just minutes before, you could hear the annoyance in it as he wrapped an arm around your waist. You inhaled sharply when he pulled you into him, fingertips pressing into your hip, and your skin burned under his touch. "It'd do you nicely to take a hint, y'know."

You hardly caught a glimpse of Samuel's sullen glare as Thomas promptly pulled you back along with him through the crowd, pressed against his side.

"You're a lifesaver," you sighed, and when he looked down at you, seeing the gratitude written across your face, a grin split his embittered expression.

"I do my best," he replied, squeezing your side playfully. You wore a small, coy smile.

"I'm forever in your debt." Your sarcasm had no bite to it as you walked together, not sure where he was leading you but glad to make your escape, and he raised a playful eyebrow.

"Any interest in repayin' that, sweetheart?"

You laughed when he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Mm, tempting, but I'd really rather just get out of here. I don't want to risk running into dear, sweet Sam again," you huffed, and he chuckled.

"Where are you tryin' to go? Didn't your roommate drive you here?"

You shrugged. "You have any suggestions for me?"

You glanced up just as his smile broadened, but squealed when he turned to you, his other hand meeting your waist as he pulled you flush against his chest. He could feel your pounding heart against his body, could see you swallow harshly, and his smile was shamelessly delighted at your wide-eyed stare. He leaned forward, and you shivered when his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. "I mean, I might've mentioned," he murmured, and you inhaled sharply when you could feel the vibrations of the words against your skin, "but my bedroom is upstairs."

He leaned back after a few moments passed in silence, looking to gauge your reaction, but when you stood perfectly still, hands resting on his biceps, entirely stunned, he raised an eyebrow. Finally, you took a deep breath, and a small smile lurked at the corner of your mouth. You pushed yourself onto your toes to whisper to him, "Care to show me the way?"

Triumph flashed in his eyes. "No need for you to worry about how we're gettin' there." You hardly had time to process the words before he was leaning down to pick you up, throwing you over his shoulder, and you yelped. "Anyway, I think now just became the perfect time for us to get back to discussin' just how much you're in my debt."