#i love that some people interpret this normally instead of 'use him as a toothbrush'

[babbushka]

Blue Moon (4/?)

New York, 1987. The air was filled with smog and the streets were ridden with crime. Just another day in paradise. Your quiet life turns upside down when a striking man moves in across from you. You’re falling, fast, into a love that could never, ever, happen…or could it?

Pale x Reader (Can also be interpreted as modern!kylo for those who don’t know Burn This!)

Word Count: 9200 

Warnings: Angst, drug use, mentions of death, N*FW (language, explicit s*xual content)

You must have been dreaming.

Blinking awake far too early, much earlier than normal, you could feel a pair of strong arms around you, a nose in your hair. Beneath you was hard muscle, not the mattress. You were hot, sweating, and confused – you never woke up sweating.

“Pale?” You whispered in the pre-dawn moonlight, because that’s who it was, that’s who it had to be. Except he never stayed, you always woke up alone.

You must be dreaming.

He was snoring, not loud, but loud enough that you could hear it. He grumbled softly, lips barely moving. It made you smile, even asleep he seemingly had something to say. You wondered if he was dreaming too.

The longer you were awake, the more you believed this was real. His naked body against yours, comfort and warmth – too warm, but you weren’t going to break the spell just yet.

“(Y/N).” He grumbled, and your chest hitched, eyes flitting up to his.

Still asleep. Asleep and dreaming of you.

That was the first time he had ever said your name, or at least that you’d heard.

You smiled, rested your head down on his chest again. The chain around his neck glinted in the moonlight, you pressed a kiss to his pec, the closest thing you could reach.

You felt the rise and fall of his breathing, the steady beat of his heart. You wondered if he would be angry that he stayed over, you wondered if anyone else would be angry. You could feel the cold metal of his ring against your lower back where his hand rest against your skin.

You pushed the thought out of your mind.

Your body woke up with you, and the longer you laid there watching him, the more you realized you really had to use the bathroom.

You slowly tried shuffling away from Pale, but the moment you moved, his muscles flexed and his arms tightened around you.

Pale squished you tight against him, and you couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh. Your bladder didn’t think it was very funny though. You wiggled again, struggling to get out of his hold, but there was absolutely no use.

“Go the fuck back to sleep.” Pale mumbled, eyebrows pinching in as he frowned, unwilling to wake up even though the sun was starting to creep over the skyline and spill into the apartment.

“I have to use the bathroom.” You tried explaining in a whisper, and he groaned.

He rolled you both over so that you were pressed under the weight of his whole body – and he was a large man, you were so painfully reminded – and kissed at your neck.

“Pale please, we can come right back to bed.” You insisted, lightly pushing at his firm chest.

“Fuck, fine, but I’m going with you.” He groaned, releasing you and pulling you up off the bed.

“Whatever you want, we’ll come right back.” You said, hurrying ahead of him to get to the bathroom.

He followed you as promised, watched you like the creep he was. You were about to tell him you’d be done in a minute, when he just walked over to your sink and pissed right in it. You were glad you kept your toothbrush in the medicine cabinet.

“You’re disgusting, you know that?” You asked, an incredulous smile on your face.

“Hey, I wash my hands.” Pale said, proving his point when he finished too, scrubbing his hands down with your bar soap.

“Thank god for that.” You said, walking over to the sink and bumping him out of the way with your hip, so you could wash your hands too. He rubbed his wet and cold hands up and down your sides, wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you against him as you washed your own hands. “Pale!” You yelped.

He smirked, waited for you to be finished at the sink, then walked the two of you back to bed where he flopped you both down onto the mattress.

He kissed you, breath sour from the morning, and you kissed him back. They were lazy kisses, the sun now officially in the sky, probably only seven o’clock.

You ran some fingers through his hair, hummed against his lips. He held onto you like he’d never see you again if he let go, kissed you back real serious like.

A small voice in your head was telling you that you could really get used to this, waking up like this. The more rational part of you told it to shut up, that it was probably never going to happen again.

“I can practically fuckin’ hear you thinkin’,” Pale murmured against your lips, “Am I not doin’ my job keeping you occupied?” He asked, and you smiled.

“Just hungry.” You said, not wanting to open that can of worms. Your stomach rumbled to prove your point, you silently thanked it for its cooperation. “Wanna make me breakfast?”

“Now you’re fuckin getting the idea.” He quirked an eyebrow with a smug smile. “Give me a couple minutes to wake up, huh?”

You nodded, and he buried his face in your chest, kissing lightly at your tits. You continued to comb your fingers through his hair.

“Got any hot plans for the day?” You asked later, wearing only a soft pair of underwear, not one of the scratchy lacy ones you’d been bringing out of retirement from the back of your closet.

He didn’t seem to mind, still happy to pinch at your ass with a smirk.

“Nah, I gotta go in tonight but not until seven.” Pale said, moving around some eggs in the pan, standing in front of the stove in his boxers and socks.

The chain looked good around his neck, you thought, watching it sway whenever he leaned down to kiss you. You let a hand drift to your own, idly twisting it in between a couple fingers.

“Do you want to do anything?” You asked. You had the day off, and you think it might be nice to get out and about, even if it’s just to the local park or the mall. Malls were the new big thing, apparently. People got all dressed up to just walk around, you thought that was funny.

“Make you come?” Pale quirked an eyebrow at you with a bit of a smile, making you roll your eyes.

“Okay.” You nodded, “Nothin’ else?”

“What the fuck do you want me to say, let’s go catch a movie?” He teased, like you two were teenagers who didn’t know how to spend an afternoon.

“We could see fatal attraction.” You said back, and the look he gave you really did make you laugh then.

“You really are a smart-ass, huh?” He put the spatula down, crowded against you up on the counter.

“Afraid I’m gonna go berserk on you and the missus?” You looped your arms around his neck as he kissed you, bit at your bottom lip.

“Remind me to never fuck you in an elevator.” He smiled against your lips, and you smiled back.

“You’ll have to fuck me in the stairwell instead then.” You replied, and he smiled again. You liked seeing him smile, he didn’t do it often enough. Took nearly two months to get him to smile this much.

“Eat your breakfast, hm?” He said, returning to the stove and taking out the omelet just in time.

He put it on a plate and handed it to you, after you hopped off the counter. He poured himself a bowl of cereal and used the last of your milk.

“I’ll get you another carton.” He said, but you shrugged, waved your hand.

“Don’t worry about it, I get them for free from the bodega around the corner.” You smiled, and he almost choked on his cereal, putting the bowl down to inspect the empty carton.  

“What the fuck is in this milk that makes it free?” He asked, clearly offended.

“Nothing!” You laughed, “I just used to babysit the owner’s kid, they don’t charge me whenever I go in.”

“That’s nice of them but I’m still gonna get you another fucking carton.” He said, sniffing the milk in his bowl despite you telling him it’s fine. “When’s the last time you went to the fuckin’ grocery store?”

“It’s been a while, but I don’t need much. I eat breakfast here, I eat lunch at work, and I bring home dinner.” You said, eating your omelet. You hummed with satisfaction, it really was good.  

“If you call a bowl of soup ��dinner’ we got some serious fuckin’ problems.” Pale sat down across the table from you.

He was too big really, for your table, his socked feet brushing up against yours, his knees hitting the underside of the tabletop. You wondered if it might be more comfortable on the couch, but didn’t want to get up just yet.

“Fish makes great soup.” You defended your boss.

“I’m sure he does but would it kill ya to have some fuckin’ variety?” Pale asked, crunching away. His accent was stronger in the morning, you thought, as if that could be possible.

“What, are you going to come and cook me dinner every night?” You asked with a small smile.

“No but I can make sure you’ve at least got shit to make yourself.” He pointed out.

“If you insist.” You sighed playfully, as if he were the most difficult man on the planet. Sometimes you thought he was.

“I do.” He said, insistent, making you smile.

“Okay.” You said simply, finishing your breakfast.

“You done?” Pale asked, watching you chew and swallow the last few bites.

“Yeah.” You nodded, wanting to brush your teeth.

“Good, I want to fuck you.” Pale said, unceremoniously putting down his empty bowl and picking you up.

“You did say you were gonna make me come.” You said, laughing and squealing as he kissed and sucked at your skin on the way to your bedroom.

Looks like teeth-brushing was going to have to wait.

He fucked you good – he always did. You wondered if he could read minds or something, or if he really was just that talented. If you were still sleepy before, he fucked it right out of you, adrenaline burning in your muscles from feeling so good.

Pale was setting up your bath, filling the tub and putting down clean towels so when it inevitably leaked it wouldn’t get all over the place.

You took the opportunity to make a phone call.

“Hey Richie?” You asked when the line picked up, normally you wouldn’t mind chatting, but it was a bit of a surprise, and you didn’t want Pale to know so you had to keep it quick. “It’s (Y/N), you got that key made like I asked?”

“Yeah, you want to come pick it up or want me to drop it off?” Richie’s voice crackled over the phone, and you smiled.

“I’ll come and get it! You open today?” You asked, unsure of the hours.  

“You bet doll.” He said.

“Perfect, I’ll come by and pick it up later – oh could you do me a favor?”

You told him what you wanted, and he said it’d be no problem, and you hung up, happily walking into the bathroom.

“You know this fucking tub is getting on my nerves. Let me buy you a new one.” Pale said for what felt like the thousandth time.

“No, I like my tub. It’s staying.” You said with an easy smile, taking his hand and stepping into the hot water.

“Yeah we’ll fucking see about that.” He mumbled, climbing in too. He went to the opposite end and faced you, the two of you stretching your legs out to rest near the other’s head.

You’d both gotten good at measuring how high to let the water go so it didn’t slosh all over the damn place like that first time.

“You know when I signed the lease to this apartment it didn’t have anything at all?” You asked as he got comfortable. “Only the stuff in the kitchen, and the toilet.”

“No fuckin way.” Pale frowned, but you nodded.

“I had to buy everything myself, and the first thing I bought was this tub. We didn’t have a tub at home, only showers, and I always thought that it was so luxurious to have a long soak. I bought this tub before I even bought that bed.” You laughed, remembering the (in hindsight) dumb decision.

“Alright, the tub stays.” Pale said, kissing your ankle. He hummed thoughtfully for a minute, “The first thing I bought was my car. Spent too much fuckin’ money on it, and I’m too fuckin’ attached to it to sell it.”

“Good thing you don’t got a girl pressuring you to get rid of then, hm?” You clicked your tongue and he got all defensive, making you smile.

“I ain’t pressuring you, and I just said the fuckin’ thing can stay!” He said, grabbing your ankle playfully and giving it a little shake.

“I know, I’m just teasin’.” You sank into the bubbles up to your chin, making him shake his head fondly.

“I know.” He huffed.

“I know you know I know.” You said, and he huffed again.

“You make me dizzy.” He said, like that was your fault.

You innocently pointed a finger at yourself, raised an eyebrow. He pointed back at you with a nod.

“Good, so do you.” You said, sitting up, turning yourself around and resting against his back. His arms immediately wound around you under the water. Not overly sexual or nothing, just comforting.

“I do?” He asked, genuinely surprised. He always seemed surprised when you said something nice about him, it hurt your heart a little bit.

“You bet, but in a good way.” You nodded.

“Didn’t know there was a good kind of dizzy.” Pale said softly, his nose in your hair, breathing it in.

“Well there is.” You said, and that was that.

“Light me up a smoke?” Pale asked, and you nodded, reaching over onto the counter and grabbing the pack he had stashed there. He had sprinkled shit all around your apartment, but you didn’t mind. It was nice, having a reminder of him when he wasn’t there.

You pulled a cigarette out of the pack, turned around as best you could in the tub and gently placed it between his lips, and struck a match with your wet hands, lighting it.

He took a deep drag, and you settled back down against his chest, dropping the match into the bathwater, watching it sizzle.

“I gotta go back to my fucking apartment.” He said on an exhale after a minute or two. You knew that was coming, but it still hurt a little to hear him have to say it.

“Are you going to be in trouble?” You asked, not accusatory or angry, just worried for him. If he got in trouble, he might not want to come around anymore, and then where would you be?

“Nah, she’s down in Miami.” He said, making you frown. He really did live alone across the street?

“How come?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

You were still resting with your head against his chest, so you couldn’t see his face, but the hand with his cigarette was expressive enough.

“She don’t want to fuckin’ be with me no more.” He said, sounding too resigned.

That wasn’t what you had thought at all – you didn’t know what to say.

“Her loss.” You settled on, because it was true. Pale seemed to think so too.

“That’s what I fuckin’ said. I tell you one thing, what a waste of fucking time that was – still is, woman won’t give me a fuckin’ divorce, you believe that? Doesn’t want to see me, doesn’t want to hear from me, but won’t divorce me. Go fuckin’ figure. I give that woman sixteen years of not doin’ nothing she don’t want to do, I give her two beautiful fuckin’ kids who never fuckin’ call, and she splits to live with her parents and suddenly I’m the bad fuckin’ guy here? Never fuckin’ did nothin’ to her that she didn’t want, gave her whatever the fuck she wanted even when I didn’t want to. Never raised a hand to her, I ain’t that kind of guy, you know that, never did nothin’ to her except what she wanted.”

“That’s not fair to you.” You said, kissing the arm that held you around your neck, wanting to comfort him.

“She don’t give a shit about fair, no one gives a shit about fair when you’re eight-fuckin-teen. We had six days of fun, that was about it. We been split for two years now, I only see her for fuckin’ Christmas, and it’s really to see my kids. She thinks I’m dangerous, don’t want them comin’ up to see me, I gotta be the fuckin’ one to fucking fly down to Florida where it’s eighty degrees in December. What kinda fucking Christmas is that?”

“Christmas is coming up real soon.” You remembered. Like, around the corner kind of soon.

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to go down soon.” Pale sounded aggravated, you were about to switch the subject when he pinched at your cheek, “Let’s go into the city today.”

“Manhattan?” You asked, it’d been ages since you’d spent the day in Manhattan.

“Yeah, you ever see the tree over in Rockefeller?” He asked, sucking down his cigarette, the smoke filling the air.

“No.” You said.

“It’s huge, this year it’s seventy-eight fuckin’ feet, can you believe that? I didn’t even fuckin’ know trees got that tall, but they brought it over from who the fuck knows where and stuck it right in the middle of the city, there’s something crazy like eighteen-thousand fuckin’ lights.” He recited, and you smiled.

“Where’d you get all these facts?” You craned your neck around to look at him, saw him already looking back at you. Always looking, watching.

“A man likes to listen to the radio when he’s driving around.” He shrugged.

“I’d like to go see the tree.” You decided, “Do you think it’ll snow today?”

“I hope not, I don’t want to fucking freeze my dick off.” He sniffed, stubbing out what little he had left of his cigarette onto the side of the tub, reached up and put it in the small ashtray he kept near your sink.  

“Hey, look at me for a sec?” Pale asked, and you turned around just in time for him to catch your chin with his big hand, tilting your head up to meet his lips as he kissed you.

You grinned, kissing him back until the water ran cold.

When it did finally go cold an hour later, he helped you get out of the tub, offered you a clean towel and dried himself off.

“I folded your clothes, they’re on the couch.” You said with a smile, wrapping the towel around your body.

Pale nodded, wiped the water away from his huge body as he walked into the living room. You leaned against the doorframe in your towel, watched him pull on his clothes.

“I gotta go to my fucking apartment, gotta take care of a couple fuckin’ things. Gimme like, two hours and then we’ll go?” Pale asked.

“Okay, I’ll be here; I just need to run an errand but I’ll be right back.” You smiled.

He walked back over to you, gripped your upper-arms in his big hands and kissed you, and then he was out the door.

There was always something so strange about when he was gone, his entire presence seemed to fill up the room. He commanded all your attention and all your space, and whenever he left, you couldn’t help but feel the difference.

It didn’t matter much, you were going to be with him again soon anyway.

You dried yourself the rest of the way off and got dressed, making sure to layer up in case it did snow.

You figured now was the perfect opportunity to go down the street and visit Richie’s shop, pick up that key.

You gave a cheeky wave in the direction of Pale’s apartment, no idea if he was watching you or not. He probably wasn’t, too busy getting high or whatever it was that he was doing, but you thought it’d be funny to do so anyway.

Richie’s locksmith shop was barely a five minute walk, and the wind bit at your face with each step. Your coat didn’t help a ton against the cold, but it was better than nothing at least.

You waved and smiled to the other people braving the weather, and sighed when the warmth of the shop hit your face.

“Is that my favorite waitress?” Richie’s deep gravely voice asked happily from somewhere beyond your line of sight.

“How’d you know it was me?” You asked with a chuckle.

Richie emerged, a short Italian fella who swore by your coffee. You leaned down to give him a friendly kiss on the cheek.

“I can smell your perfume from a mile away, you put it on so fuckin strong.” He said with a big grin, his gold tooth shining at you.

“How’s business?” You asked, leaning up against the class counter.

“Good! Lots of folks wantin’ new locks, you can never be too careful or too safe, the crime in this fuckin’ city’s through the roof.” Richie said with a click of his tongue.

“Don’t I know it, I got a lock that don’t do nothin’.” You nodded.

“Whattaya mean?” He frowned.

“I mean I got a man who breaks in three times a week, just shakes it a lil’ and pops it right open.” You laughed, making Rich sigh in exasperation.

“That ain’t safe (Y/N), why didn’t you say so? I’d replace the whole doorknob for you, friends and family discount.” He said with a wink.

“Maybe after my next paycheck. The key I asked for is supposed to make it easier for this guy to not go breakin’ the whole thing altogether.” You smiled, thinking fondly of Pale. You found yourself doing that a lot, thinking fondly of him.

“This Pale, he a strong guy?” Richie asked, sliding the key across the counter for you to pick up. It was shiny and silver and brand new, you almost wanted to keep it for yourself.

“Real strong, no doubt in my mind he could break the whole fuckin’ door down if he wanted to. He never would of course, he’s real protective.” You smiled, but Richie didn’t seem too convinced.

“Okay, but you tell me as soon as you want that lock fixed. I won’t even have to make you a new set of keys.” He said.

“Thanks Richie. Hey, how’s Anita and the kids, they doin’ alright?” You asked, pocketing the key and pulling out your wallet.

“Yeah, they’re good. Look at that, won first fuckin’ place in the science fair!” Richie lit up at the mention of his kids, pulled out a picture from near the register of his daughter holding a big blue ribbon.

“No kidding! Good for her.” You congratulated him, handing him a couple bucks.

“Thanks (Y/N).” He smiled. Just then, the door opened, bringing the chill of outside into the small shop. “I’ll be with ya in just a sec!” He said to the elderly woman who had come in.

“I gotta get back, don’t let me hold you up.” You said, leaning back over the counter to give him a good-bye kiss on the cheek. “Thanks again Rich, I’ll call you about that lock!”

You stuck your hand in your pockets as you walked back home, the key nestled in your palm.

“Okay so I checked the fuckin’ schedule and we gotta go now to make sure we – ” Pale said, letting himself in and announcing himself in the middle of a conversation, as always.

Still dressed and ready to go, you eagerly met him in the living room. His arms went around you instantly, the leather of his jacket cold against you. He kissed you, slid his tongue against yours – you were glad you didn’t put on any lipstick.

He pulled away, and then changed his mind and kissed you again, making you smile against his lips as your hands curled around his lapels.

“I got something for you.” You said, kissing him still.

“How’s that?” He asked, brow furrowing.

“I know I know, it’s not romantic. I just don’t want you breakin’ down my fucking door all the time.” You explained, pulling out the small silver key from your pocket.

You handed it to Pale, who had gone real quiet. You hoped it wasn’t a bad idea, but he hadn’t thrown it away or nothin’ yet, so you figured you did good.

“Why’s it got my name on it?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, “You think I can’t remember my own fuckin’ name?”

You smiled, turning the key over in his hands – god they were big, and so warm despite it being freezing outside – showing that the other side had your name stamped into it too.

P A L E on one side, and your name spelled out on the other.

“It’s personalized.” You explained, before grinning up at him, resting your chin on his chest, “It’ll help you tell it apart from all your other whores’ keys.”

“You think I got room in my head seein’ other women?” Pale scoffed, and you shrugged, purposefully being difficult.

“I don’t know anything about you, remember?” You teased, still smiling to show him you weren’t being serious.

Pale walked you backwards to the couch, keeping his hands on you. Even though you were only joking, you had accidentally aggravated him. You could tell because he had that little dimple in between where his eyebrows were pinched, nose scrunched up just a little.

Thankfully, he wasn’t aggravated enough to be mean or nothin’, but he did nudge you to lay down on the couch while he started undoing all your clothes, tugging them off of you enough to expose your chest and stomach.

“You’re too much of a fuckin’ handful – when do I got the fuckin’ time to fuck other girls, huh? I go to work, I go to you, I go to sleep. I’m too fuckin’ busy fuckin’ you right and making sure this sweet pussy of mine stays satisfied, you got that? ‘Other whores’ – why the fuck would I need any other girls when I got the best fuckin pair of tits in my hands right now, huh?”

Pale cupped his hands around your chest, pushed your tits together and sucked a dark red mark on them. His ramblings sent a thrill through you, you had hoped – but you didn’t dare let yourself hope about anything these days.  

“You really ain’t seein’ anyone else?” You asked, a hand in his hair, the other trying to get purchase on his shoulder, still clad in that leather jacket of his.

“No I ain’t fuckin’ seeing anyone, unless you mean the fuckin’ seafood dealer down at the fuckin’ docks carryin’ in fuckin’ lobster from Maine – or the fuckin’ cattle farmers at the fuckin’ auction houses bringing in the best fuckin’ prime rib this side of the river. Those are the only other fuckin’ people I see, sweetheart.” Pale said, voice muffled as he shoved his face into your cleavage.

“Good.” You couldn’t help but say, feeling victorious.

“’Good’, she says. Christ sweetheart you’re somethin’, you know that?” He lifted his head from sucking and biting at your skin, “I changed my mind, I don’t want to go into the city, I’m gonna fuck you into next week, come on.”

Pale got off of you, pulling you up with him. You watched him carefully put the key in his jacket pocket, before shrugging out of it and draping it across the couch. You smiled, hoped that meant he liked it.

In the bedroom – which you were stupidly, foolishly starting to consider your shared bedroom – it was bright; not sunny exactly, but bright, the light still finding a way to come through the clouds.

He looked at you real hard, didn’t do nothin’ but look at you for a hot minute, once he got you naked. You looked right back at him, just as naked too. You liked that he liked to be nude around you, he had quite the build – it made you wet, just the sight of him.

He liked that, liked the way his fingers slid into you without any trouble, you opened your legs and relaxed your hips and dropped your mouth when he fucked you on his hand, three huge fingers rubbing at your cunt, making you whine.

His cock was hard, it made you clench at how hard he was, how all that was gonna fit inside you somehow. You wanted it, needed it desperately, his fingers were good but you needed his cock all the way up in your stomach to shut up those butterflies and make you moan.

“Please,” you said, and that was all you had to say before he yanked you down the bed, lifted a leg and curled it around his waist.

“That’s right, say it.” He smirked, sticking in just the tip, driving you crazy – you knew how it felt to be so fucked by him, your whole body was arching for it.

“I’m your slut and I want your cock, please, please let me have it.” You begged, licking your lips.

He groaned and pushed into you, lifted your hip with one hand and held it in place, the perfect fucking place for him to fuck you hard and deep.

“Fuck.” He breathed, snapping his hips against yours.

He was so strong, how the hell did he have so much muscle, you could watch it ripple – his biceps bulging, his abs clenching, strong hips pistoning into you, making you cry out, and huge fucking thighs supporting him on the mattress.

It was good, so good, just on the edge of painful, but not quite. You couldn’t get your mouth to close, jaw dropped from the pleasure of it. He spit into it, licked at your teeth, bit your tongue. You smiled around it the best you could, the force of his thrusts shoving you up and down and up and down on the mattress.

“You got the best fuckin’ cunt I ever had, you know that?” Pale sneered at you, like he was mad at you for that.

“Feels good?” You asked, wanting to be good, good for him.

“Yeah, fuck – ” He panted into your mouth, pushing your hips back down onto the mattress and rearranging your legs so he could get deeper deeper deeper, you felt like he was in your throat.

And then he was pressing down on your throat, and you were gasping for him, stars creeping into the corner of your eyes. It felt too good, you couldn’t focus on anything other than getting fucked, you didn’t even want to breathe, only wanted to kiss him, take his cock.

His hair fell in your face, tickled your cheek as he sucked at your skin, god you were gonna look like a fuckin’ leper when he was done, if you didn’t look like one already.

He was so hot, always so fucking hot, sweating and making you sweat. What was it he had said, one-ten? A man shouldn’t be that hot.

He pressed his big hot hands and his big thumbs into the big bruises he had already left on your skin – the ones on your thighs, on your hips, on your tits. His hands were huge, they were all over you as he fucked you, made you feel him everywhere.

“Please,” you said, not knowing what you even wanted, just wanting him, more of him, all of him, whatever he’d give you, “Please, Pale.”

“I got you, I got you.” He grunted, letting go of your throat slowly, slow enough to make you dizzy all over again, make you smile.

He let his hand fall down to your clit, pushed that big thumb of his right against it, swirled little circles around it, until you were jerking, throwing you head back as far as it could go into the covers, clenching hard around him as you came.

“Thank me.” Pale ordered, grabbing at your face, still thrusting into you. Hot hot hot.

Your body relaxed, going warm and soft as it thrummed with your orgasm, your mind reeling from it but your hips loosening up for him, letting him fuck into you deeper and without any kind of resistance.

“Thank you,” You moaned too far gone, “Thank you thank you.” You said over and over again, your hands looped under his arms, feeling the strong muscles of his back as they moved and flexed, Pale chasing his own orgasm.

“Fuck, (Y/N).” He groaned, hips stilling, pressed flush against yours.

You swore you could feel his come in you, swore you could feel the heat of it.

Pale let his arms give out, falling right on top of you. He was too tall, his chest landed on your face, suffocating you just a little. You didn’t care too much, but guessed it was too uncomfortable for him to have your nose jabbing his sternum, so he rolled you over, staying inside you the whole time.

You laid fully on top of him, rising and falling with the expansion of his ribcage as he took in deep breaths.

You almost never wanted him to pull out, you felt like you could fall asleep like that.

You looked out the window.

“It’s snowing.” You said, your face sticking to the sweat on his skin.

“How’s that honey?” Pale licked his lips, wrapped a big hand around the ends of your hair. Didn’t pull or tug or nothing, just held it in his hand, cradled the back of your head.

“Look.” You said, lifting a pleasure-weak hand to point at the window, where soft flurries were starting to frost the glass.

“I guess it is.” Pale said, looking back down at you, giving you a smile.

Pale had stayed with you until he had to go to work that evening. He even came back when he got off the next morning.

There was something thrilling about hearing the key click the lock open, made you smile.

It was only for a little bit, you were heading out to work anyway. He was too tired to fuck you, but that was okay, you didn’t want to show up to work smelling like sex.

He said he’d see you soon, and you had smiled and kissed him, and he had walked you downstairs. He looked sad, but you chalked it up to him being tired.

Now you were at work, wiping down the counter and thinking of him, listening to the jukebox.

The snow stayed light, thankfully, and it was warm and cozy inside the diner. A couple of the regulars were there, sipping their coffee well into the afternoon. You were in no hurry to kick them out.

You had just finished the big breakfast rush, and were joking around with Fishel.

“I ain’t never seen you so happy (Y/N).” Your elderly boss said, chatting with you through the order pick-up window. “Whoever he is, I’m glad he’s treatin’ you right.”

“Thanks Fish.” You said, not being able to stop your cheeks from blushing at you made sure the counter was spotless. “I think we got a good thing goin’, it’s hard not getting all wrapped up in it.” You admitted. You didn’t really talk to anyone about Pale.

“You spendin’ the holidays with him?” He asked, and your chest tugged a little.

“I don’t think so. It’s too soon, he’s already got plans with his family.” You said, trying not to sound suspicious or nothin’.

“That’s too bad.” Fishel frowned, but you shook your head, not wanting the conversation to go down that path.

Fish came around the corner and walked around the milkshake bar, sitting on one of the stools. Fish spent most of his time on his feet, you knew that couldn’t be good for a guy like him – you were always telling him to sit down, it was good he head started to listen.

“Nah it’s okay, I’ve only been seein’ him for a couple months.” You said, and there was that smile again. “You want a malt? Or an egg cream?” You asked, knowing Fish definitely deserved a sweet treat. He had worked hard all through the breakfast rush, not a single order came out wrong.

“Malt.” Fishel decided, scratching at his chin. “He that big scary lookin’ fella I see walkin’ you home sometimes?” He asked, making you laugh as you worked on his drink.

“Yeah, that’s him.” You turned on the blender, wincing at the noise of it until you could turn it back off. “He ain’t scary, honest.”

You were starting to move your stuff to the small prep sink on your side of the bar when the phone rang.

“I’ll go get it – ” You said, starting towards the phone, but Fish interrupted you before you got too far.

“Nah, let it ring. It’s my brother, I don’t want to talk to him right now.” He grumbled, making you smile.

Fish came from a family of nine, all boys. You never knew which brother he was talking to, or about.

“Aw don’t be like that Fish, go talk to your brother.” You said, but the phone stopped, making your boss give you a big smug smile.

“Too late.” He said, having a little laugh, before taking a big drink of the malt. “I’ll give ‘im a call later. Was a fuckin’ mistake givin’ him the diner’s number.” He shook his head.

“Whatever you say, Fish.” You replied with a fond smile.

You found yourself sneaking glances to the booth tucked behind the plant, Pale’s booth. It was empty today, and you wondered if he’d be stopping by. He didn’t always, so it was nothing to count on, but it always brightened your mood when he did show up. 

It was dark in your apartment when you came back home after your shift. You were glad because you didn’t even have to work a double, so you got home right at two o’clock.

Something in you thought Pale would be there, now that he had a proper key and knew he was invited whenever he wanted. You figured he was just busy, maybe he got stuck working hard. You admired that about him, he really did love his work, no matter how much he complained about it.

You took the opportunity to wash your sheets, filing your nails in the laundry room in the basement of the apartment building while it spun around and around. You brought a book down there too, so you wouldn’t be too bored. You’d once left your laundry in the dryer too long, and some schmuck came and dumped it out all over the filthy floor – you learned to keep a close eye on it ever since.

When the laundry was washed and dried and Pale still wasn’t talking circles in your apartment, you reheated some soup from the diner on the stove, sipped it sitting on the couch while the TV flickered.

After a while, you accepted that he wasn’t coming, and went to bed, your eye on his window.

He wasn’t there, no lights were on. He worked too hard, you thought.

You fell asleep, your head on the pillow for the first time in a long time. You tried not to think about it.

 Pale wasn’t around the next day, or the day after that even. You worked doubles, keeping your mind off of things. This wasn’t the first time he had disappeared on you, but it was the first time since, well…

Your hands idly came up to the gold chain, the one you hadn’t taken off yet. You had no desire to see it anywhere other than around your neck.

You walked into your apartment, sighed sadly when Pale wasn’t there for the third day in a row.

Putting your stuff down, you walked through the living room, where you saw the little red light on your landline blinking.

Confused, you sat down on the couch and pressed the speaker button, pulling up the voicemail menu on the machine and letting it play. A robotic voice greeted you.

“Hello, “(Y/N)”.” It said. You cringed a little at how awkward your voice sounded saying your own name in comparison to the cold robot voice. “You have six new voicemails.”

“Holy shit.” You frowned, you think you had maybe gotten three voicemails in the past year – panic flooded you, was something wrong? Was everyone okay?

You pressed the button to start playing the voicemails.

“I tried fuckin’ calling you at the diner, nobody picked up. That ain’t good business practice sweetheart.” You heard Pale’s voice, slightly modulated from coming through the machine. You felt bad, it hadn’t been Fish’s brother then the other day.

“I didn’t want to tell you, more like I couldn’t bring myself to – I’m down in Coral Gables. It’s too fuckin’ hot here, I can’t stop sweatin’. Don’t get mad at me, I told you I said I was gonna have to leave soon. I’ll be back, in a couple days. Cross your fucking fingers for me sweetheart, that I make it out of this trip with whatever’s left of my fuckin’ sanity. Every fuckin time I have to go back and visit these people it reminds me of how much I fuckin’ hate them – ”

The message ended. You stared at the phone, didn’t even give yourself time to process that he had gone all the way down south without even as much as a goodbye before you pressed the button to hear the next one.

“I don’t know where the fuckin’ machine cut me off but, anyway I wanted to tell you that’s where I am. My kids got so fuckin’ big, they don’t look anything at all like they did when I saw them last. They got no interest in seeing their old man, fuckin’ fine with me. I’m too busy sweatin’ by the fuckin’ pool, getting chewed out by the in-laws. Why don’t I do this or that, because nobody fuckin wants me to, that’s why. It’s too hot for this – ”

The message ended. You smiled, pressing the button again.

“—So then I tell him you know why don’t you go get fucked? Apparently that was the wrong thing to say to an eighty-fuckin-five year old man, but see if I fuckin’ care. It’s too fuckin’ hot here you know – oh shit – I gotta go.”

That one made you laugh a little. There had been some rustling on his end of the line, was he calling you in secret? That thought made warmth bloom in your chest, made up for the bit of hurt at him disappearing without a word.

“Can’t talk for long this time, just got out of dinner. You’d never fuckin’ believe the seafood here, I guess they gotta get it from the best fuckin’ people because of how close they are to the water – speaking of fuckin’ which, I ain’t never seen such blue water in my whole life. I swear it’s like they got it dyed or something, like they painted the bottom of the fuckin’ ocean. Jersey ain’t this fuckin’ blue I fuckin’ tell you that much – ”

“It’s me again. You better be fuckin’ eating right. And I don’t mean that soup, I put some shit in the fridge for you, cook it up. I’m gonna be pissed if you let it spoil. Don’t work too hard neither. You know I’ve been spending the past three fuckin’ days listening to stories about how hard these fuckin’ people work? Causing fucking heart attacks left and right. You need something important, some big fuckin’ emergency comes up, I left a stack of cash in the drawer with the spoons in it. Everyone’s fucking complaining about something – myself included. The traffic here is – ”

“You know I’m getting real fucking fed up with this fuckin’ machine shutting my calls off. I don’t even fuckin remember where I was. The party? I don’t fucking know. It’s two in the goddamned morning, you’re probably not even fuckin’ home yet. I’ll call you again later.”

“There are no new messages.”

You were reeling.

You wondered how much room you had on the machine for your voicemails. You didn’t want to delete any of them, wanted to save them. You looked at the thing, there was a button for it.  

“Messages saved.”

Your heart was beating wildly. You turned the ringer volume up as high as it would go. His last message must have come through right around two, but it was closer to four in the morning now, you having to work the double. You hoped if he called again, you’d be able to catch him.

You never managed to.

“Three new messages.”

You were curled up in bed, having moved the machine into the bedroom. Lying awake at night, you could almost imagine him sitting next to you, smoking his cigarette. Almost.

“Missed you again. I wish you were here with me, you fuckin’ know that? I fucking hate messages. I hate them. I hate getting them and I hate sending them. Especially fuckin’ hate it when they write down the message and stick it in your pocket, bits of fuckin’ paper all over the damn place. How the fuck am I supposed to know what you’re thinking, how you’re reacting through a fuckin’ voice message. I don’t even know if you’re getting these – I looked your number up before I left, I know this is the right fuckin’ number. I hope you’re listening. I’d tell you to call me back but – ”

“They got flamingos all over the fuckin’ place here, I ain’t never seen a pink bird before, it don’t look natural. Maybe they dye them just like they dye the fuckin’ pools. I found out that some places to paint the bottom of the pool, can you fuckin’ believe that? Now that’s a scam and a fuckin’ half. What kind of false fuckin’ advertising – ”

“ – I’m fuckin’ aching over here too you know? I hate them, all these fuckin people. They don’t give a shit about me or about Robbie or about anyone, they only fuckin’ knew him by proxy, ‘cause of me. They didn’t give a shit – oh fuck, shit – ”

The line went dead, and there were no new messages after it.

You held your breath, that last one sounded like he was losing it, like he was crying. You didn’t think you’d ever heard Pale cry.

You found you were crying too.

You fell asleep, missing Pale, wondering who Robbie was.

“Four new messages.”

“Fuck (Y/N) – I’m – I can’t – ”

“I don’t know who to call, who to talk to. I got nobody over here, ain’t that fuckin’ sad? Fuckin’ Christmas time and I ain’t got nobody. Fuckin’ wife and kids went to the beach, I’m sick of the fuckin’ beach. I’ll be back for New Years, fuckin’ flight got delayed. Fucking snow. I hate snow, I ever tell you that? What the fuck am I even doing here, I shouldn’t have come, fucking idiot.”

The third message was just him crying.

The fourth one was too.

Your heart ached for him, you had no idea what the fuck was going on, but you ached for him, the way he sobbed over the phone. It made harsh static sounds come through the speaker of the voicemail machine.

“One new message.”

“I miss you.”

 You replayed that one over and over.

You saved them all, played them on the nights when you got lonely. It had been a week, Christmas come and gone. You hadn’t celebrated with anyone, just sat by the voicemail and listened.

You listened to him talk about Miami, about his family. Robbie was his brother, you learned. He died, you learned.

It was hard to listen when he was drunk, slurred his words together, you couldn’t make them out. You always could tell when he was drunk, he cried a lot more. You’d never heard someone cry so much.

You missed him.

I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.

“(Y/N)!” Marty said with a cheerful smile as you walked into the deli on your way home from work. “Haven’t seen you around in a couple of days, what can I get ya, how you been?”

You smiled tiredly, surveying the deli case. It was late, the deli was almost closing, and there wasn’t much left to choose from. It was all still good of course, just not as full as it would be in the morning.

“Busy, working double shifts at the diner.” You explained, having to stifle a yawn. “Can I get a tuna sandwich?”

“It’s the holidays, you should take some time off, be with family.” Marty said, getting to work putting your sandwich together just the way you like it.

“They live all over the place, it ain’t easy getting together, you know?” You shrugged. You’d have to give your folks a call.

You didn’t have much energy for talking.

Marty didn’t seem to pick up on that hint, took his time making your simple sandwich.

“I ain’t seen that guy around, everything okay with him?” Marty asked.

You frowned, didn’t like the way he said it like that. That guy.

“Pale? Yeah he’s just out of town, business shit.” You lied.

“On Christmas?” He raised an eyebrow, and you shrugged.

“Yeah.” You lied again.

“Do you know when he’s comin’ back?” Marty asked, and you got aggravated.

“Why does it matter?” You frowned again. You were getting a headache. You missed Pale.

Marty shrugged, wrapped your sandwich real slow. You almost didn’t even want it anymore, too tired and annoyed to want to eat it.

“I just was wonderin’ if maybe you didn’t have any plans for New Year’s Eve, if maybe you’d like to go out to dinner with me.” He said, not making eye contact.

“Marty, thank you for thinkin’ of me, but I’ve got plans.” You said.

It wasn’t a lie, you told yourself. Pale would be back, and he’d see you, and you’d do something together. It wasn’t a lie.

“Okay then, maybe we go out to dinner some other time, maybe tonight?” Marty tried again.

“I’m flattered, but no, thank you.” You said, not sounding too flattered at all.

“You’re too pretty to be eatin’ alone, come on.” He said, handing you the sandwich.

When you reached for it, he wrapped his hand around yours.

You yanked it out of his grip, recoiling.

“Pale is coming home soon, and he ain’t gonna like you flirting with me.” You warned him.

Marty threw his arms up in exasperation.

“What the hell do you even see in him anyway? I see how he stumbles around the fuckin’ streets some nights, coked up out of his mind. He’s a mess.” He got heated, making you get just as mad.

“Who the fuck isn’t these days?” You snapped, “Everyone stumbles around in the fucking streets every once in a while! People are dying left and fuckin’ right, you don’t know nothin’ about them, you ain’t got the right to judge.” You seethed.

“Okay, calm down – ” Marty said, realizing he had made a big mistake.

“No, fuck you.” You said, not caring about anything. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m waiting on a phone call.”

You didn’t even pay for your sandwich, just left the deli and went up the stairs, fuming.  

 “Four new messages.”

You were sitting on the fire escape. It had been twelve days since Pale left for Miami. He should be coming home tomorrow, if he was gonna make it in time for New Years like he said he would.

You had rummaged through your closet, found his big leather jacket hiding back there.

Something in your chest clenched real tight, thinking about him leaving the jacket for you. You slipped it over your shoulders – it absolutely engulfed your whole body. You could smell his cologne on the leather, could feel the ghost of his warmth.

“I’m getting on a fuckin’ airplane today, fuckin’ finally. Don’t let me come back to this fuckin’ place, this was a bad fuckin’ decision. You ever been on an airplane? I have so many things I want to ask you. I don’t know how people fuck in airplane bathrooms, they’re too fuckin’ tiny. God I can’t wait to fuck you. I ain’t touch another person this whole fuckin’ time I been up here. I got a hug from my son, that’s it, can you fuckin’ believe that? One hug on Christmas. I’m gonna fuckin’ never take my hands off of you – ”

“This fuckin’ voicemail has got to go. You gotta change it. I know you’re not there right now – I fuckin’ know. I ain’t been able to catch you in almost two fuckin’ weeks, I’m going crazy over here, forgetting what the hell you even sound like. You’re not there right now. I know I know I know. You know how some people take Xanax to fly? Maybe I shoulda done that. I’m gonna be home soon, god I hope you’re home.”

“I’m callin’ you from the airport, can you hear it? It’s so fuckin’ loud here, too many fuckin’ people all talkin too many fuckin different languages. I’m in a fuckin’ phone booth, reminds me of the fuckin’ time I went to the zoo over in The Bronx. You know I once saw them moving some animals into the fucking zoo? Real late at night, got the elephants fuckin walkin around the streets. Maybe that was the circus, now that I’m thinkin’ about it. I’m gonna fuck you so hard when I get back – hey who the fuck do you think you’re fuckin’ lookin at, huh?”

“Me again, it’s Pale. You knew that though. I wanted to tell you who it was when I was calling from my bitch of a wife’s house, but they don’t call me that, they woulda known something was up. I ain’t VSOP over there. We landed –  god it’s fuckin’ cold. You better have fuckin’ found my jacket by now, I’m gonna be pissed if no one was usin’ it while I was gone. Didn’t think I’d need it in Miami, but I didn’t fuckin’ think ahead. Please insert an additional five cents – oh fuck this – ”

You sat on the fire escape, wrapped in his jacket.

You saved the messages. You wished they came with a time code, wished you knew how long ago he landed.

Your thought was answered by the sound of a key in the lock.

Grinning, you climbed through the window back inside and ran into Pale’s arms, which wrapped around you with a strength you had almost forgotten.

I hope that this chapter was worth the wait!! 

Tagging some pals! As always, if you’d like to be added or taken off the list please just shoot me a message!  @fullofbees @spinebarrel @oh-adam@dreamboatdriver @bad–bad–man @thecurlycaptain@bourbonboredom@driverficarchive@aweirdlookingtree@rosalynbair@redhairedfeistynerd@adamsnackdriver @glitzescape@arwarz @adamsnacc-kler @kyloxfem@fallin-for-youreyes @kylo-renne @attorneyl