#i wanted to look at wordcount examples not get my situation rubbed in

[kirbyddd]

[thevelria]

Electric Love (Gojo x Reader) Chapter 1

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Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Summary:This is the first chapter of an AU story, some parts might be canon, but mostly not. It's going to be a love story between you and Satoru with some spice. Warning will be at the beginning of the chapters. Please read them carefully and skip if any of the listed warnings might trigger you. Otherwise have fun!

Warnings: domestic violence, abusive relationship, blood and fight.

Wordcount:3401 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spring knocked at the front door or we could say it double foot kicked itself into the life of yours. Sun was finally shining and you were more than happy after that seemingly endless long winter you had. You were not a winter person nor a sun bug, but the spring. Spring was your shit and you were more than happy. Swinging your anime themed jacket around your back, heading to work on that Monday morning. You had no idea that your life was about to change…forever. 

The counter looked like a mess and you tried your best to clean it as fast as possible. Working in a Coffeehouse wasn’t your dream job, but it paid well enough and you actually had fun. Silly colleagues and a pretty nice boss you had, so it was a win-win situation. After you left the university a few years back you tried to find yourself. Applied to several different jobs, worked at a millions places, but this time you felt like it could be something you had desire to do. Sinking into your thoughts deeply, moving your hands left and right with a cleaning cloth between your fingers, zoning out completely. When you heard the tiny door bell rang above the entrance of the shop. You turned your face to the direction, witnessing two men walking in. One with funny, spiky black hair, while the other had the whitest crystal clear hair color you have ever seen in your life. He was wearing some kind of blindfold, which confused you, but you made a fast self note “not to stare, offering help, he’s probably blind”.

You dusted your apron, rubbing your hands in the side of it, before you grabbed your notebook and pulled your biggest smile possible. 

“Good morning” you greeted the two men “I’m Y/N, how can I help you?”

“Morning” the black haired man smiled “Can we get a menu please? I’m not sure what I want to drink, yet.”

“Sure” you walked back to the counter and stepped back at the table in a few seconds, handing a menu to the man.

“And what about me?” the blindfolded man asked you “I don’t get one?”

You froze in your action, blinking fast and uneasy. “Sir, I’m really sorry, but we don’t have menu with braille”

The second he bursted out in a loud laughter made you feel even more embarrassed. 

“I’m not blind” he smiled softly “I can perfectly see.”

“Do you?” you frowned your brows, being totally confused, why would someone wear a blindfold with completely fine vision.

“Yeah, for example I can see how pretty your smile is” he smirked.

Your eyes popped wide and feeling the blush crawling up on your face you turned and rushed back to the counter for another menu.

“Thank you, sweetheart” 

After they ordered the drinks you started to prepare them, but overheard their conversation.

“Satoru, it wasn’t cool at all.”

“Oh, c’mon. What did I do? It’s not my fault she thought I couldn't see.”

“You are horrible. I swear to God!”

“Watch your mouth, kid.”

“Here you go” you placed a latte before Megumi. “And that is for you, sir.” you carefully placed the expresso before Gojo. “If you need anything else, please let me know.” you bowed slightly.

“I would like…” Gojo raised his index finger.

“Yes? What else can I get for you?”

“Your phone number, please.” His cocky smile made your blood boil. Rolling your eyes with a loud huff you spun on your heels and walked back to the counter. Murmuring “Asshole.” under your nose. You couldn’t know of course, but he heard you just clearly and fine. 

***

“Gojo” Nanami snapped at his training partner “Focus, for fuck’s sake. What’s wrong with you?”

“Huh?” he shook his head slightly, trying to focus, but the only thing he could think of was you. The way your cute apron hugged your body, your sweet smile and beautiful eyes. And the way you called him asshole made him almost chuckle. Nanami ran out of patience, he wanted to train and so did he. Punching Gojo right in the stomach, making him bend over, hands on his tummy.

“Fucking hell, Kento” he hissed. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I warned you like 5 times” he smirked, attacking again. This time Satoru dodged the hit and threw a proper punch back. They didn’t use any cursed energy, only their human strength, but still it turned into a hell of a fight. 

“Is it enough?” Nanami asked Gojo, kneeling on his chest, fist pressing hard against his cheek.

“I’ll kick your ass…” he tried to form the words. But he couldn’t, Kento almost beat the shit out of him. Bruises and cuts covered his face and it made him furious. He never loses, he’s not that type of a person. And witnessing a failure like this made him relentless. 

Standing in the shower, letting the hot water hit his tired muscles was the only way the anger slowly sank out of his mind. His palms rested against the tiles of the walls, head bending down and enjoying the water massaging his neck. He kept his eyes closed, still thinking about you. “I need to get her number.” he shook his head irritated. 

This whole thing was new to him. He would hook up here and there with some random girls, but all were meaningless. More like easing the physical needs but nothing much. But with you…he felt it was different. With only one meeting, one short conversation and you got him around your fingers. He made his decision to make you his and you had no chance against his will. 

Roughly grabbing the shampoo bottle, sighing loudly while rubbing the gel into his beautiful white hair. “What the heck is wrong with me?” he frowned. The whole shower session was filled with irritation and anger. He had never had such an angry shower before and the thought of his action made him laugh. A desperate, maniac chuckle left his plum lips while he was leaving the shower with only a fluffy towel loosely dropped around his waist. 

***

Gently turning the key in the keyhole, making as little noise as possible. You entered the house and hoped he was already sleeping. Mostly you ran two shifts in a row in the coffeehouse. And even if you always felt tired as hell, but it gave you the opportunity to save some money, plus you didn’t have to spend too much time with your boyfriend. The love once you shared was gone long ago. The sweet boy you fell for with years ago became a jealous, rude, disrespectful person. You were more than sure he was cheating on you, but you didn’t say a thing. He wouldn’t admit it anyway, probably just beat the shit out of you as usually. Leaving him was your first priority after you realized you’ve been stuck in a toxic relationship. The only reason you stayed was that you had nowhere to go, so you needed to save some money to rent a flat for yourself. “Just a few more weeks.” you told yourself every time he screamed in your face or worse.

Calmness rushed through your body, when you heard him snoring loudly from the bedroom. “Thank God” you thought as you entered the bathroom for a well deserved shower.

***

The next morning came with a rush and you were walking into the coffee shop with your typical smile on your face. No one knew the troubles you had to face at home, but it wasn’t their business anyway. Working hard made you distracted, freeing you from the burdens of your personal life.  

The little bell sang some sweet noise, when the first customer arrived. You turned your face just to notice the annoying white haired guy with the blindfold from yesterday.

“Good morning” you greeted him like you weren’t irritated by his presence.

“Morning beautiful” Gojo pulled an adorable smile.

“What can I get for you?”

“First I would like to apologize for my actions. I was an asshole, I know that. Can we just start over?”

You stood still behind the counter, looking with confused eyes. What did he expect from you? Why would he say things like that? It just didn’t make any sense.

“Sure” you shrugged “No problem. So what can I get for you?” The bored look you gave him made Gojo uneasy. He thought you would appreciate him saying sorry and shit like that. 

“Just an espresso” he forced a smile. 

He stayed for hours, ordering here and there. Trying almost all the cakes you had, drinking like five different types of coffee. You truly believed he was going to get a heart attack after the huge amount of caffeine he poured down his throat. The second you noticed he was about to order again you pinched the bridge of your nose. 

“Can I get the bill please?” he tapped his tummy, being way too full with all the sweets he killed this morning. You nodded without saying a word, spinning on your heels, when hearing him clearing his throat.

“Anything else?” you asked.

“Yeah…your number, please.” he chuckled.

“Oh for fuck’s sake” you rolled your eyes, leaving his table in an instant.

This little scene repeatedly happened on every day of the week. Gojo tried to get your number so desperately you started to feel bad for him. Everyday you talked a bit more about sweet nothings really. Like how was the weather or what you would recommend him to try from the menu. 

On Friday as he was standing in front of the counter, telling you a super old dad joke and you bursted out in a loud laughter. 

“That was a good one.” you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. The bell rang above the door and you froze like you’ve seen a ghost. 

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” Gojo tilted his head slightly, being confused by your reaction.

“Nothing” you cleared your throat “Please get back to your table. I’ll serve your coffee in a minute.” You sounded too serious and scared, but he followed your ask and took his seat with his legs crossed. 

“Who was that guy?” Daniel asked with a raspy, irritated voice.

“He’s just a customer. What are you doing here?” you gulped big, trying to hide your nervousness.

“Why? Can’t I visit my wonderful woman, who is seemingly whoring around with her customers?” he clenched his jaw.

“Don’t make a scene! Order or go home.” 

“I heard him calling you beautiful.” he hissed “Since when are you fucking him?”

“Stop this, I’m begging you!” your voice cracked.

Satoru heard every single word clear and clean, it made him way too upset and appeared next to Daniel in a second.

“Excuse me.” Gojo pulled his typical smile, standing in front of your boyfriend.

“What do you want?” he clicked his tongue.

“Could you please talk with some more respect to this beautiful lady?”

You almost facepalmed yourself, because even if he wanted to help…he dragged you into bigger trouble.

“Mind your own business, freak!” Daniel rolled his eyes. “We’ll finish this at home…” he shot you a look which sent shivers down your spine. 

***

The scream that bursted out from your lungs echoed through the entire house. You begged, cried and swore to anything just to make him stop. But Daniel didn’t care about any of your words. He felt like Gojo humiliated him and it made his blood boil. After the first few slaps your face felt numb, the taste of your blood in your mouth made you nauseous though. Daniel was huge and strong compared to you. Of course you were no match to him and he knew that too. That even if you’d love to mop the floor with his arrogant face you couldn’t do anything in your defense. He beat you up really bad this time. “Teaching you a lesson.” as he repeated several times, while hitting your face harder and harder until your lip ripped up and your nose started to bleed. 

That night you swore to your life that the next day after work you’re going to move out. No matter where or how, but you leave this piece of trash behind once and for all.

In the morning getting ready in front of the mirror was a hard task to accomplish. Seeing your swollen, ripped lip, the bruises under your eyes, the cuts on your cheeks. You tried your best to hide them with makeup, but you already knew you were going to wear sunglasses all day long. 

Satoru walked in with a huge, cheerful smile on his face. He was truly looking forward to seeing you again. These past days made him feel excited, weird and happy at the same time. He was thinking about you all the time and today was the day he was about to ask you out. Even if he witnessed you had a boyfriend. The brief seconds he talked to him made him realize that your man was a dick, and him being more than confident he was sure you would say yes to a dinner or something like that. 

Zoning out and sinking into his thoughts he automatically took the seat at his usual table.

“Good morning” you walked up to him. “What can I get for you?”

“Morning beaut…” his word died mid sentence, when he noticed your wounds “What the fuck happened to you?” he clenched his jaw.

“Oh, uhm.. I was clumsy.” you turned your face away, pretending to look for something in the pocket of your apron.

“Y/N” Gojo frowned “Look at me, please.” his soft voice felt like honey to your ears. “Who did this?”

“As I said I was clumsy.” you cleared your throat “And now please make your order so I can get it for you.”

“It was him, wasn’t it?”

“With all due respect, sir… it’s none of your business. I don’t even know your name and you expect me to…I don’t even know.” you sighed irritated. The source of your anger wasn’t him, but everything else that happened to you last night. And him sitting here, asking you as he would know you, made you feel way too frustrated. 

“My name is Satoru Gojo” he gabbled his name “Now tell me who did this to you!”

Since it was early in the morning no other customer arrived yet. Only you and him stuck in that uneasy environment, which was slowly eating you both up. The grab on the chair’s backrest was tight and irritated, he noticed the way you pulled that chair out and hesitantly dropped yourself down, looking down at your feet.

“Daniel got mad last night.” you poked your inner cheek with your tongue.

“Why?”

“Because of you…” pulling an awkward smile, while fidgeting with your sunglasses.

“What?” he rocked back on the chair, before leaning forth again “What did I do?”

“Hmm…” you hummed with so much pain in your voice “Well, you called me beautiful in front of him. So he beat the shit out of me, just to show me where my place is…But today is the day. After work I’m gonna go home, pack my stuff and leave him once and for all.”

Gojo kept silent, slowly raising his hand and gently taking off your sunglasses. The second your bruised face got revealed in front of him his jaw clenched tight. 

“I’m so sorry” he whispered, gently placing his huge palm on your cheek and you automatically rested into it. Closing your eyes, because somehow you felt safe. You had no idea how or why, it just felt right. 

“Where does he work?” he asked out of the blue, breaking that special moment.

“4 blocks down the road. There’s a box club, he’s a coach. But why do you ask?”

“Excuse me, Y/N” Gojo pushed his chair back, standing up “I’ve something important to deal with. But here…” he grabbed a napkin from the table and a pen from his pocket, writing down his number “Please call me after you get home, okay?” 

Staring at his back as he was rushing out of the door, disappearing on the street in a few seconds. You felt confused. This barely known guy seemed so caring, but probably he just felt guilty because of what happened. 

Trying to keep his breathing even, but the anger which rushed through his body made it quite difficult for him to achieve it. “Fucking asshole” he shook his head angrily “I’m gonna rip your freaking head off” he fisted his hands, while walking to that box club. 

As the door shut open Gojo immediately noticed Daniel, standing next to the ropes, giving instructions to his students.

“Coach?” one of his students asked, when he looked at Gojo.

Daniel turned to face who interrupted their training and rolled his eyes, when he realized it was the guy from the coffee shop.

“What do you want?” he clicked his tongue, pulling a face.

“I want to train” Gojo walked closer “With you” stepping in front of Daniel.

“What?” Daniel bursted out in an arrogant, loud laughter “Do you want me to beat the shit out of you, pretty boy?”

“Well, if you can beat me I’m gonna pay your bills for a whole year. How does that sound?”

“Oh, so you are stupid and rich at the same time. That’s a total win for me!” He stepped on the ropes, waving to the kids to get out of there. 

As they stood in their fighting stance all the eyes glued on them. 

“Let’s go, coach’” one of the kids yelled.

“Yeah, beat him, coach!” another one chimed in.

Gojo smirked slightly, before waving at Daniel. “Come” he growled.

Daniel had no chance to even touch him. Gojo dodge every single attack, mostly not even using his hands, just simply stepping away from the hits. It made his opponent furious, he got so angry, he couldn’t control himself anymore. Pulling a dirty trick and trying to kick Gojo in the guts.

“How dirty!” Satoru chuckled, spinning aside from the attack, resting his back on Daniel’s. “Since your students are watching us” he whispered “I think I’m gonna show off a little.” 

Daniel's eyes widened the second he felt Gojo’s first punch. It felt like something would have squeezed his inners to make them explode. But Satoru didn’t stop and threw several similar punches at him. Blood was running down his face, his lips and brows were ripped, bruises covered his whole body. The fear in his eyes made Gojo even madder. As Daniel was laying on the ground, begging for mercy, Satoru sat on his heels next to him.

“What, brat? Are you afraid? As afraid as Y/N was last night, when you beat her up?” Daniel’s Adam’s apple bobbed, because he realized he was fucked up. 

“Listen carefully.” Gojo whispered, pulling down his blindfold to make direct eye contact. “You’re gonna head home right now, pack your stuff and leave once and for all. IF I see you around her again I’m going to end your pathetic life. Do you understand me?”

Daniel stared into his eyes. “What are you?” his voice cracked.

“Your worst nightmare.” Gojo pulled his most terrifying smirk ever, causing Daniel to get up and rush out of the place.

***

“Okay, okay, you can do this” you tried to boost yourself before opening the front door. The second you stepped in you felt something was off. He wasn’t home and as you looked around you noticed all his stuff was gone. “What the fuck?” you frowned, walking around the house to check it. All the clothes, all the belongings, everything was gone. HE was gone.

You dropped yourself down on the couch, when you found a torn piece of paper on the coffee table.

“I’m sorry for everything! Please never contact me again!”

Your hands were shaking, holding the paper and reading it again and again and again. Did he really leave? Did he seriously make this whole thing easy for you? It was nothing like him. You knew Daniel and he would have never done anything for you. “What happened to you?” you bit your inner cheeks fighting with confusion and happiness at the same time. 

[moldisgoodforyou]

you’re excused

wordcount: 2.6k

warning: hinting at smut

_______

After another late night out, the group of four stumbled into the pizza shop they frequented regularly - Sophie leaned on Rafe, Colin was walking like he hadn’t had a drink all night, and James was leaning on the other side of Rafe, like liquid when he was drunk. Rafe fished his AmEx out of his pocket like usual and slid it across the counter, authoritative. “Hey man, how’s your night? We’ll take a large pepperoni.”

The cashier shrugged, pointing to the sign on the register. “Cash only, dude. Sorry man.”

“Damn, cash-only? Since when?” Colin lamented, turning to leave the pizza shop.

“Oh!” Sophie’s face lit up. “I know what to do.” She went to pull up the hem of her tank top and Rafe grabbed her insanely quick, arms wrapped tight around her chest. “Absolutely fucking not, Sophie.”

“I’m just using my assets!” She protested, squirming in his grip. He kept a tight hold on her, practically frog marching her out of the shop.

James laughed, shaking his head. “Bold move, Soph. I appreciate the effort.”

“Not in a million fucking years.” Rafe grumbled, holding her tight.

“This is blatant misogyny.” She argued, trying to wrestle her way out of his arms.

He didn’t let her move an inch. “By not letting you show your tits?”

“Yes. They’re great tits, the world deserves to see them.”

“Good god.” He sighed, only letting her go when she stopped moving. “No. Only I deserve to see them.”

“No, dude, I think she has a point. That sounds pretty misogynistic to me.” James pointed out, only for Rafe to sock him in the arm.

“Don’t ever talk about her tits again -"

“I wasn’t technically talking about her tits, I was talking about the concept -"

As the two started to wrestle, Sophie slipped back inside the pizza shop. She found three dollars in her pocket and gave it to the cashier, then returned with two large slices of pizza, handing one to Colin. The boys stopped wrestling abruptly when they saw the exchange. “Hey, wait, I want one.” Rafe protested.

“No. You didn’t let me show off my boobs.” She replied primly, taking a large bite of the pizza.

“You didn’t - Sophie. No. You didn’t.” He glanced back and forth between her and the pizza shop, confused.

Sophie grinned, strolling forward to link arms with Colin and kept walking, with no response.

Colin smirked and leaned down, whispering. “Are you gonna tell him you found cash or should I?”

“Nah. He’ll get over it.” She shrugged and tapped her crust against his. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

Rafe jogged to catch up, walking next to the two of them. “Wait, I want some. I’m hungry too.”

She made a show of taking a big bite. “Mmm. I’m sure you are. It’s really good, Rafe.”

He frowned. “Can I have the crust at least? You never eat the crust.”

“I dunno, this crust is really good this time.” She replied. “Are we still going to my place?”

“We’re going to your place?” James chimed in, unsure. He nearly tripped over his feet as he tried to shove himself in on the sidewalk so they walked four across. “I wanna go home instead.”

“No, you two aren’t coming.” Rafe shook his head, then looked to Sophie for confirmation. “Right?”

She finished the majority of the pizza and handed the rest to Rafe, holding back a smile at the grin that lit up his face. “Yeah, it’s just us. Unless you guys want to…?”

“No, we’ll go home.” Colin nodded up at the upcoming intersection. “This is us anyways, we’ll see you ‘round. James, this way, buddy.”

“Bye!” James waved, peeling off with Colin. Once they were out of sight and Rafe finished the pizza, he glanced over at her, unsure.

“You didn’t really flash that guy, did you?”

“Might have.” She shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters.”

“Okay. No, I didn’t, I found cash in my pocket. I would have though.”

“I know you would have.” He grumbled. “How drunk are you?”

She squinted, holding up her thumb and her pointer finger close together. “Only a lil’ bit. We can still hook up, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “You have to stop calling it hooking up. We’ve been dating for nearly a year.”

“Eleven months is not nearly a year.” She retorted, checking her hip against his. “What do you wanna do?”

“We’re still sticking to that November date instead of Halloween? Huh?”

“Yeah. We are. What position?” He could tell she was drunk because she spoke a little too loudly, her tongue slipping over some of her words. “We could do reverse cowgirl, 69 - we haven’t tried that, um -”

“Sophie -”

“Missionary, I guess, but that’s kind of boring -”

“Jesus, Soph, please shut up -”

She raised her eyebrows, stepping in front of him to cut him off. “Excuse me?”

He sighed and reached into his pockets, adjusting his shorts, and was thankful it was dark enough to hide his situation. “You’re excused. Can we go home?”

Her eyes flicked down to below his belt and back up to his eyes, with a smug grin. “What are you gonna do to me?”

“Sophie.”

“I bet you wouldn’t even last if I go down on you. You’re so predictable.” Sophie smirked, knowing she was pushing Rafe to his limit.

He reacted instantly, reaching out and catching her forearm and pinned her against a parked car in the alley, caging her in around her head with his forearms.

She inhaled sharply, caught off guard with wide eyes.

He grinned, leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “What was that?”

“Um. I, uh, I don’t know.” She stuttered, feeling her knees go a little weak as his lips brushed against the shell of her ear.

“Something about me being predictable?” He supplied, giving her a kiss on the cheek then pulled away like nothing had happened. “Hm?”

She took a moment to compose herself, swallowing hard. “You’ve done that before.”

“No I haven’t.” He argued, taking her hand.

“You have.” She nodded, slipping her hand into his. “Halloween, when I finally told you how I felt.”

“You remember that?”

“I remember every damn detail of that night.” She replied with a grin, her eyes bright. “You combed back your hair but had one little strand out of place, it kept falling into your eyes on top of your glasses. When you kissed me I was almost convinced to hook up with you right then and there but I was afraid I’d ruin it and you wouldn’t want to see me again.”

“Sophie.” His tone took on a serious edge and he slowed their pace a little so he could look her in the eye. “No matter what had happened that night, I knew I had to find a way to keep talking to you after that class. Hell, I’d have settled on going back to arguing every day if I meant I’d still get to see you.”

She blushed, grateful they made it to her house and even more grateful her roommates were back at the bar. “You’d still fight with me?”

He nodded, punching in his code to let them in. “I would.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know, about the stupid shit we always fought about.”

“Give me an example.” She stepped close, trapping him in between the kitchen counter and her body.

He held back an amused smile at the way she tried to take charge. “Like how you think you can get away with grinding on me at the bar with no consequences. Or how you leaned across the bar, with this top so loose and low cut that I can practically see your nipples right now, so the bartender would give you free drinks. Twice.”

She noticed his eyes darkened a little and she stood taller as a sly smirk spread across her face. “I wasn’t flirting.”

“Better not be.” He flipped positions with her quicker than she could process what was going on, lifting her up onto the counter and slotting himself in between her legs. “I don’t want anyone else even thinking they have a shot with you.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist instinctually. “I can’t help it if other people flirt.”

“You can not encourage them.” He kissed her hard, his hands immediately going to her waist. “Twirling your hair, doing that thing where you try to look all innocent with me - yes, exactly, that -”

She grinned, biting her lip as she blinked up at him. “I’m not doing anything, Cameron.”

“You absolutely are, Flint.” He growled, slipping his hands under her ass and lifting her off the counter. “You and your fucking bedroom eyes.”

“You do it more, you know.” She informed him with a smirk. “You smolder.”

“I smolder?”

“Yes. Your eyes just kind of...linger on me, then you meet my eyes, and then you lick your lips. Sometimes you’ll rub the back of your neck too, and I’m pretty sure that’s just so you can show off and flex your arms.”

“None of that is intentional.”

“Well it works.” She laughed, yelping as he started walking up the stairs. “I can handle myself -”

“You shouldn’t have to.” He cut her off with a kiss, biting her bottom lip. “Fucking tease.”

“I’m not teasing.” She insisted, breathless as he gripped her ass a little tighter, pressing her against the wall at the top of the stairs. “Fuck, Rafe.”

“Yeah?” He kissed her again, running the tip of his tongue along her lips. “Tell me what you want.”

“You taste like pizza crust.” She mumbled, laughing when he pulled back with a quizzical expression. “Sorry. Sorry. Got distracted.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, carefully setting her down. “Fine, I’ll go brush my teeth -”

“No!” She grabbed his wrist as he moved to walk down the hallway. “C’mere. Need you.”

A slow smirk spread across his cheeks as he stepped back in her space, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “Yeah? You need me, baby?”

She bit her lip, staring up at him with wide eyes as she nodded.

He slowly stepped forward, gently pushing her up against the wall as he slid one of his thighs in between hers, his chest touching hers with every rise and fall of their breath. “Tell me.”

“Tell you…?” She echoed, hands going to his waist.

“Tell me. Tell me what you want.”

Sophie blushed, breaking eye contact. “Rafe, I’m not gonna -”

“Fine, then I won’t touch you.” He replied, raising his hands as he backed away with a smug smile, but he barely got back before she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, yanking him down to her level so she could kiss him, hard.

“Stop, fuck, you’re teasing.”

“I’m -” He pulled back just enough to lift her up, tapping the back of her thighs to signal for her to wrap her legs around his waist. “Fuck. M’not. Just wanna hear you.”

“Oh, you’ll hear me.” She promised, sucking a spot against his neck. “You’ll hear me, baby. All night.”

He paused, breath catching. “I kinda have a work meeting at 8am tomorrow -”

Sophie laughed, pecking his lips. “You know damn well when I say all night I don’t mean it.”

“Okay. Yeah. Yeah, yeah, got it. Okay, fuck, keep saying sexy shit to me.” He exhaled, nodding quickly as he strode into her room and kicked the door shut behind him. The door slammed especially hard and she winced when he dropped her to the bed.

“C’mon, Cameron, door’s gonna jam now.”

“Don’t care. I’ll figure it out. Take your shirt off.”

“Demanding.”

“You like it when I’m in control.” He pointed out, grinning when she let him tug off her crop top and unbutton her jeans. “Okay, c’mon, hips up.”

She obliged, lifting her hips and helped wiggle the denim down her legs. He pressed kisses down her thighs as he tugged them off, grinning.

“Fuck, you’re hot.”

“I know.”

He just laughed, pulling back to tug his shirt over his head. “I love your confidence.”

“I love you.” She replied, moving a little up the bed.

Rafe beamed ear to ear, fumbling with the button on his corduroy pants. “I’m never gonna get tired of that. Ever. Fuck. Will you?”

“Will I get tired of it?”

“No, my -” He gestured helplessly at his stuck button, yanking on his pants. “It’s these new pants you convinced me to buy, I look like I’m straight out of a fucking Ralph Lauren ad.”

“Oh, so nothing new.”

“Sophie -” he sighed, exasperated, but cut himself off quickly when her fingers teased under the waistband of his boxers. “No, keep going.”

“Magic word?” She tugged him forward, pushing his pants down to pool around his ankles until he kicked them aside.

“Suck me off?”

“Rafe.”

“Oh, sorry. Please suck me off?”

“Rafe Cameron.” She rolled her eyes, flicking his abs, and got up on her knees on the bed then pulled him down to kiss him, hard.

“Sophie Flint.” He grinned, running his fingers through her hair. “God, you’re so fucking pretty.”

“Keep that up, really does wonders for my ego.” She breathed out, moaning when he tugged on her hair a little. “Fuck. I need you.”

“But I wanted to -”

“Rafe.” She pleaded, looking up at him with doe eyes, and that was all he needed to reach into his nightstand and grab a condom.

“Okay, okay, hold on -”

“We don’t have to -”

“Yes, we have to, you nearly broke up with me last time we didn’t -”

“I did not -” Sophie huffed, exasperated. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”

“Fuck you? Baby, I’m gonna -” He grinned, making Sophie roll her eyes before he even opened his mouth again, and sang, horribly off key. “I’ll make love to you…like you want me to…”

“You’re so weird when you’re drunk.” She giggled, grabbing his hand to tug him onto the bed, shaking her head as he stood there, completely naked, singing way louder than he should have been for nearly 3am on a Sunday.

“You love it. Love me.” He insisted, letting his full weight fall on top of her as he pinned her to the bed.

Sophie grinned, grabbing his chin so she could kiss him properly. “I do.”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” He replied with a grin, kissing her hard and slow, swiping his tongue against her lips.

“Stooooppp.” She whined, blushing. “Get in me already.”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” He smirked, gripping her hips. “Tell me more.”

“I don’t know why you’re dragging this out when you could literally be fucking me right -"

“Making love -"

“Okay, Romeo, whatever you say -"

He laughed, clearly not concerned about time, and leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Please fuck me.”

“Yes ma’am.”

taglist: @drewstarkey @lemur46 @jjmaybanksbaby @edgeofgr8 @quxxnxfhxll @obxtess @hoodpankow @vtgirl802 @outerbankies @messagesinthesky @nicolecarsley @svechnikolan @ilovejjmaybank @obxtess @abbyj1822 @oopsiedoopsie23 @g4bster @jjmaybankzz @freddymaybank @dontjinx-it @illbesafeforyou @moniamaybank @tovvaa @jailcalledlife @sunshineitsfine44 @randomficsandshit @outerbankspreferences @outerbanksbro @karsinner @kkmaybank @whoeveniskendall @lemur46 @outerbankies @proactivetypeofperson @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit

[kaasknot]

Hi, I know you’re working on long fics right now. I have questions — how do you go about this — for instance, if you’re willing to indulge me.

I imagine it takes planning. So, if you’re writing something that you think will be around 70k words; first of all, how do you predict that?

Do you have the major plot events that you want to write about laid out, before you really start? Then do you plan by chapter what will occur, etc? I’m just really curious about the mechanics of it. (I’m not a great planner when I write, trying to get better because I think it will help me plot better).

As far as the writing itself, I tend to get hung up on stylistic elements when I write. Seems like I might have to let go of that somewhat if I’m writing something very long. Because I mean, how many different ways can you say something? (if I used an adjective twice in the same fic I notice it, as an example of what I mean). Is this something you don’t struggle with as much in the way you approach it? (I’m asking this wanting to learn something, lol).

V/r,

Slipper

It does take planning, but how and how much depends on the person. Some folks fly by the seat of their pants the whole way through, setting out the metaphorical roll of butcher paper Jack Kerouac-style and writing it all in one go before looking back to see what the story is about. Some people plan intricately, to the finest detail, before they ever start writing. Part of learning to write longfics is learning how you work best. I can’t tell you that; you’ll fall into it instinctively, because it’s how your brain works. Are you a pantser, or are you a planner?

I’m more of a pantser. Usually I get an idea for a fic because I’m spitballing with a friend and one of us will go “Ohhhh shit, what if—” and then we’re off, building the idea and expanding on it. The idea itself offers most of your plot points: if there’s only one bed, then they have to choose whether to sleep in it together, or if one will take the floor, or etc. Which option is more in character? Which option gives more emotional payoff? All a longfic is is a oneshot that’s been expanded beyond the bounds of a single scene; it’s not just “We’ll cuddle for warmth,” it’s “This is how we got into that situation in the first place, and these are the long-term consequences of it.” As for making those plot choices? For the most part, I just go with my gut feeling. I really don’t intellectualize this part, it’s pure emotional gratification. What feels good. What feels right. What makes me rub my hands and cackle with glee. It’s really very organic. I just know. Trust your gut; you’re a storytelling animal.

I like spitballing with a friend because it makes the process more fun. You can get live feedback on whether your plot beats work, whether your characterization is sound, and above all, positive reinforcement to pursue the idea. It makes the early stages of planning a lot less tedious. When all the yelling and flailing is done, I’ll save the chat transcript into a doc and separate them into discrete scenes, adding filler beats as necessary. Sometimes, this is all the outlining I do.

Every story I write is different, though. Sometimes all I have to connect scenes is an emotional through-line I hold in my head, and that’s all I need; sometimes, for more complicated, plotty fics, I use a five-act structure to organize my thoughts a little further (it never stays in that rigid structure for long, but it helps me shape the emotional swell). Very rarely, so far only once to date, do I actually sit down and do a formal I. A. 1. a. i. outline—and then only because the story is so long and complicated that if I didn’t make an outline that granular, I’d forget 80% of the fic before I got around to writing it.

And on a related note, the most recent fic I finished is 70k, so that’s why I chose that number. I have a vague idea in advance if an idea is a longfic or a oneshot, but beyond that I don’t worry about the wordcount. It’ll be as long as it needs to be. Similarly, I don’t plan out chapters: when I’m done writing and editing, I’ll break the fic apart at emotionally impactful places and call those chapter breaks.

Finally, stylistically, you will repeat yourself. You are a collection of experiences bundled up in a trench coat, and that informs the words you use, the emotional beats you’re drawn to, and the plots you like. You can’t avoid it—unless you consciously change your style, and that’s really ungodly hard to do. More trouble that it’s worth, imo. I’m gonna give some writing advice here, but it’s highly specific to my process as a semi-pantser, so your mileage may vary. In my experience, if you want to be able to stick it out for a longfic, you have to let go of the sentence-by-sentence perfection. The rough draft is not the place to fuss over sentence structure. It’s the place for fussing over scene structure. Do these scenes flow into each other right? Is this the emotional progression I want? Is this fun to write? (If it’s not fun, that’s usually my cue that I need to go back and reevaluate the importance of the scene.) Once it’s all written, then you can go back and fix shoddy sentences. That’s the absolute best time to get picky about words, because the fic is already written and it’s not hanging over your head, weighing you down.

Hope that helps!

[merakiaes]

Alright - Jose “Sad Eyes” Guzman

Pairing: Jose “Sad Eyes” Guzman x reader

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: Since Sad Eyes’ first name isn’t mentioned in the show, I’m stealing the one @spookysmujer​ and @youare-mysonshine​ came up with for him for their co-written story ‘Todo Cambio’. Go check it out! NOT PROOFREAD, so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes, and translations for the Spanish bits can be found at the end. I hope you like it and let me know what you think, it’s my first time writing for Sad Eyes xx

Wordcount: 2397

Summary: Sad Eyes takes care of you after you’ve been jumped and beaten by Prophets. 

“Ow. Not so hard.” You hissed through your teeth, your entire body wincing when the alcohol-soaked rag was pressed down onto the open cut in your eyebrow.

Sad Eyes barely batted an eye to your complaints, his face wiped free of every emotion but anger as he kept cleaning you up with slow, careful movements.

The hand that wasn’t holding the rag was holding on to your chin to hold your face in place, his touch soft, almost as if he thought that you would break if he held you with any more pressure.

But still, the feeling of the rag pressing against the open scrapes and cuts on your face was the most painful thing you’d ever felt, having you constantly wincing out of his touch which in turn only added fuel to his burning irritation.

“I need to clean it or it’ll get infected.” He replied flatly, his voice low in his throat.

He heaved an annoyed sigh when you winced out of his touch again, reaching his hand back out to grab your shin, this time more determined. 

“You’re pressing too hard.” You winced again, tears burning your eyes.

Still, you kept watching him through your blurry vision, knowing that his body standing in front of you where you were seated on top of the kitchen counter was the only thing keeping you from falling down in all your dizzy glory.

Those Prophets had really done a number on you, four full-grown men with biceps the size of your thighs having jumped you, a twenty-year-old girl, guilty of nothing but being recognized as a Santo’s ruca when walking through the street.

Of course, one of them had been Latrelle, him having been the one to spot you out. He had been causing a lot of trouble for Los Santos lately, Cesar in particular. 

You held the youngest Diaz boy very dear to your heart and if you hadn’t hated those Prophets before, you sure did now that they had done him dirty like that.

So, of course, you just had to be your stupid old self and open your big, stupid mouth, basically inviting them to show off their dominance.

You didn’t know what ‘manly’ was in their eyes, but four guys ganging up on one girl half their size was not how you would define it. 

Either way, they beat you to the curb in an attempt to get you to give up a Santos safe-house, going in confident that you would throw the Santos under the bus for your own survival’s sake, but they were quickly proven wrong.

You were barely holding on to your life at the end of it and hadn’t Oscar, Jose and the Santos shown up when they did, you were sure you would have died.

You would never forget the look on Jose’s face when he came over to you where you laid on the ground, barely even able to hold your eyes open at that point. He was talking to you, yelling, but you couldn’t hear a word, your ears ringing.

His eyes had grown more panicked than they had already been when you guessed he realized you were slipping away from him, you remember the faint feeling of his hand slapping against your cheek and seeing Oscar rush up behind him.

The last thing you remembered was them lifting you up and carrying you towards the Impala while the other Santos beat down the Prophets, and then everything had turned black.

You woke up again when you were being carried back out of the car and at that point, you had gotten back your sense of hearing back and was a lot less out of it. 

Your thoughts weren’t completely coherent but you were still able to lazily sass your boyfriend and his best friend back when they scolded you for being stupid.

Something you knew neither of them had appreciated very much, especially not Jose.

You were pulled out of your thoughts and back to reality with another wince when he pressed the rag down again, his voice reaching your ears shortly after.

“I’m barely touching you.” He said in a flat voice, and true to his words, he carefully wiped the rag around the cut again. “You brought this on yourself. I told you to stay inside until I got back.”

You closed your eyes, sighing out through your nose and holding on to the edge of the counter as a sudden wave of dizziness hit you. “This again?” You questioned. “The fridge was empty and I was hungry. I just needed to go to the store.”

“I could’ve given you a ride.” He pressed down harder on your face as the anger got the best of him, the stinging sensation forcing your eyes open again.

You met his angry gaze with one of your own, glaring fiercely at him. “You weren’t picking up your phone. What was I supposed to do? Starve?”

Removing the rag away from your face and bringing his hands down to the counter, he stared at you. “You could have waited another hour.” He pointed out and you rolled your eyes, instantly regretting it as the bruises around them screamed in protest.

“How was I supposed to know you would have been done an hour from then?” You asked him, and watched as something flickered behind his brown eyes.

“The human body can go for three weeks without food.” He fired back, taking a threatening step closer to you.

“You know how I know that?” He raised his eyebrows, moving his face closer to you, to which you held your breath nervously. “Because you’re the one who told me.”

He shook his head, his gaze so strict you wanted nothing more than to look away. But you couldn’t. “You’re not taking this seriously. You could’ve died.”

Your eyebrows furrowed together at the sight of his eyes closing and his head falling down, his back moving up and down with violent breaths.

More than anything, you just wanted to tell him he was right and that you were sorry; that it wouldn’t happen again. One side of your mind was screaming at you to do just this, to put an end to the suffering he was obviously experiencing right now.

Bur admitting out loud that he was right would also mean admitting you were wrong, and that’s something the other side of your mind wasn’t on board with. You were just stubborn like that; a flaw that had caused problems in your relationship more time than you could remember.

“But I didn’t, did I?” You asked before you could stop yourself, your stubbornness getting the best of you.

You plastered on a smile, eyes softening and hands leaving the counter to take his face in yours, forcing him to look up at you as you continued. “My knight in shining armor turned up and saved me, like you always do.”

Your thumbs rubbed small circles on the line of his jaw and his eyes fell shut at the feeling, but it did nothing to calm his mind, his head beginning to shake furiously.

“Stop.” His voice was silent, low, as he got lost in your touch for just a brief moment. But he quickly pulled himself back together, opening his eyes and moving his hands up to stop yours “No hagas eso. This is serious.”

“I’m fine.” You tried to convince him again, dropping your hands from his face again and looking to the side, avoiding his pointed glare.

You knew you deserved the scolding you were currently getting, but you felt like a child being scolded by her parent and it made your defensiveness rise to the max out of pure instinct.

And he knew you like he knew the back of his own hand, knowing exactly how you were functioned, what you were thinking, what you were trying to do and why.

“Stop trying to run away from the consequences of your actions. Stop trying to make the situation less serious than it is.” He kept scolding you, trying to search out your eyes.

When you kept avoiding his gaze, he reached out and caught your chin in between his fingers again, forcing your face to the front so that he could look you in the eyes. 

“Are you listening to me?” He questioned, and out of pure instinct, you glared, turning defensive again.

“Yeah, I’m listening, Jose.” You snapped back. “How can I not when you keep getting up in my face?”

“You could have died, (Y/N)!” He finally snapped, the sudden change of volume of his voice causing you to jump where you sat, your heart following your body’s example behind your chest.

Your eyes widened and the speed of your heartbeat picked up significantly as his demeanor changed in less than a second, his face now pulled into a near murderous glare as he continued to yell. 

“Did you even stop to think about how it would affect me if something happened to you?! No, you never do! Porque eres un orgulloso, y no escuchas!”

You swallowed back the lump growing in your throat at the sight of tears now spilling down his cheeks, your own eyes beginning to sting at the sight.

It was absolutely terrifying, the kind of deep suffering the happiest looking people were able to hide inside themselves.

You had never seen him cry in the years you had been together and now that you had, the guilt that you had been pushing back this entire time suddenly came rushing back, like a flood going through your entire body, coming out on top of the pride you had previously allowed to control your words and actions.

“I’m sorry.” You were finally able to apologize, your voice small and barely even audible.

Your lower lip quivered and tears were building up in your eyes at a frequent pace as the fear from what had happened not even an hour ago came rushing back to you, having been pushed back by the adrenaline in the heat of the moment.

Only then did allow yourself to realize how serious the situation really was, but as you watched your boyfriend raise his hands to his head and breath heavily in an attempt to control his emotions, and failing miserably, you couldn’t even bring yourself to process your own fear.

All you could focus on was him, your arms automatically shooting out to catch his biceps in your hands.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry, alright?” You said again, your voice now a bit louder. “I should’ve listened to you, but I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

He closed his eyes, still refusing to look at you and staying rooted to his spot when you tried pulling him back to you. “Yeah.” He agreed, his voice now lowered again. “But you wouldn’t have been if we hadn’t turned up when we did.”

You frowned, nodding and looking down into the floorboards. “I know. I’m sorry.” You admitted, your own tears finally spilling over the edge.

Sad Eyes’ head turned back to you, his glare going soft at the sight of you. He sighed deeply, pulling his hands over his face before turning back to you and stepping back in between your legs.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” He apologized calmly, raising his hands up to your cheeks. “You scared the shit out of me.” He breathed out, pressing a long kiss to your forehead while squeezing his eyes shut.

Your body instantly turned warmed at the small touch of affection, your hands coming up to grab at his wrists. “I know. I’m sorry.” You repeated silently, sounding like a record stuck on repeat at this point.

But he didn’t seem to care, moving his arms open and nodding at you. “Ven aquí. Let me hold you.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, inching yourself further out on the counter and leaning into his arms, letting his long arms wrap around you securely. 

He felt warm and familiar, solid and safe. You wanted to cling to his shirt, bury your face into the warm curve of his neck and never let go, instantly relaxing at the feeling of his body held tightly against yours.

But you knew that it was more for his sake than yours. Seeing you beaten up really scared him, you knew, and it would be a long time before he would forgive himself for letting that happen to you – even if it hadn’t even been remotely his fault.

Feeling a small drop fall on top of your head, you raised your face from his chest to look at him, wasting no time in taking his face in your hands and wiping his eyes free of the tears. 

“Please don’t cry.” You whispered.

He looked back at you, face blank but eyes holding more sadness and conflict than you’d ever seen him experience before. “I almost lost you.” He replied.

His voice was harsh, and your eyebrows creased together as your thumb swiped across his cheek again. “I know what you’re thinking and it’s not your fault.”

His eyes fell closed again and his head leaned down, his forehead suddenly pressing against yours. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane in all this Santo madness, I don’t know what I’d do without you, mi amor.”

His hands gripped at your waist desperately and you held his face in your hands just as affectionately. 

“I’m not going anywhere, papi.” Your head shook, rubbing your foreheads together. “I promise I’ll listen to you next time.”

Another breath left his nose, but this time out of relief. “I’m holding you to that, princesa.” He opened his eyes, squeezing your waist and pressing his forehead harder against yours.

“Te amo.” He spoke then, in that perfect Spanish accent that you loved so much and never failed to make your face light up in a smile; not even now when your face was bruised beyond recognition.

“I love you, too.” You whispered back, and then you leaned in and pressed your lips to his in a kiss, pouring all of you into that one single moment to let him know you were alright.

 Translations (I’m not a native Spanish speaker so this might not be a hundred percent accurate):

No hagas eso – don’t do that

Porque eres un orgulloso, y no escuchas – because you’re selfish, and you don’t listen

Ven aquí – come here

[worldwidebt7]

Hell[L]ing || 04

§ — Pairing: Chimera!Taehyung x Empath!Reader (with mentions of Reader x Other Members)

§ — Genre: SciFi AU, fluff, angst, smut, horror

§ — Wordcount: 3,416 § — Rating: M § — Warnings: None. Kookie being the sweet helpful bun that he is.

§ — A/N: So, banged this entire chapter out in a day and a half because, well, QUARANTINE. I should have been working on my commissions or my Webtoon contest entry, but I had an itch to get the next chapter of this out because it’s about to get GOOD. Oh, and there’s a decent amount of Jungkookie in this chapter~ Enjoy!

 Summary: You moved out into the wilderness to live a calm, peaceful life. Your abilities made it impossible to live in crowded places, so even if you wanted to you couldn’t return. But when something happens outside the realm of even your normalcy, you start to think that maybe having everyone else’s emotions bearing down on you isn’t such a bad alternative to being trapped with your own.

Today, it was raining. If you had the ability to have the sky open up and rain on you every day, you would do it in a heartbeat— you loved the rain. It was the only time where you felt fractionally normal around other people. The constant interference of energy caused by rainfall created something like a static that made it easier to drown out invasive outside emotions. You could have a conversation with someone and not get barreled over by wave after wave of their feelings. Plus, you couldn’t resist opening the windows of your home to let the sweet, clean air left behind a recent rain shower wash away any stagnant atmosphere that may have accumulated within its walls.

Beyond that it was raining, it was also, suddenly, surprisingly, pleasantly, Friday. After the short, but no less exhausting, encounter with your neighbor, Seokjin, and his sickly roommate, Taehyung, the rest of the week passed by with little excitement. Namjoon had given you the look—one you were expecting to get, but nerve-wracking nonetheless— once he found out that you had yet to write basically the first 75 pages of your novel, though at this point he was not surprised if the lack of spike in his aura suggested anything. He had given you until Thursday to write at least an outline of events so he could have a better understanding of how the heroine falls into the unfortunate situation she finds herself in. Thankfully, you had been able to accomplish this task, and was even able to send in dialog samples. Namjoon, for now, had been placated.

The other thing about Friday, or this Friday in particular, was that it was the third Friday of the month signaling your bi-weekly visit from your favorite grocery delivery boy, Jungkook. He would be arriving a little after 4pm, as he kept your delivery to the end of his route. Good thing too; the two of you have recently gotten close and your chattering would often cause tardiness to Jungkook’s other appointments. Not to mention you lived fairly far out of the way for your delivery boy who drove nearly 45 minutes just to drop off six measly bags of filled with the food items you had texted him the previous day.

Honestly the boy was too helpful for his own good. There was one Friday where he had popped by with your things when you off-handedly mentioned how the ice-maker in your freezer wasn’t working properly and making too much ice. The angel that is your delivery boy spent the next 20 minutes with your irritating ice-maker, chipping away at the ice that had frozen over the rotator and fixing the setting all so you wouldn’t have to go with your original plan which involved defrosting your freezer, losing your frozen goods, and cleaning up a cold, wet mess afterwards. He had not complained once. Not about the ice, not about having to use a screwdriver as a pick, not even when his fingers had become so cold that you could feel the pain— literally.

This was one of many examples of his unbridled kindness, and one of the many reasons you were always excited to see the boy. As you straightened your house and rearranged your pantry to fit the incoming foodstuff, the rain continued to strike the outside of your house, mixing in well with the low-fi hip-hop you had playing in the background on your stereo system. It almost made you sleepy, but your relaxed state wasn’t enough to deter the building anticipation towards your future visitor.

When you were pleased with your pantry, you backed away and closed the door, just in time it seemed, as there was a quiet knock at your door. You sighed happily— you hadn’t felt the boy coming at all, bless the rain and its emotion-jamming effects. Ah, wait, the rain…

You zipped over to the door, realizing a bit sluggishly that Jungkook would be standing outside in the rain with all of your groceries until you opened it for him, as he was always the model citizen and wouldn’t enter without your knowledge. Clad in only socks, you slide across the hardwood flooring and straight into the door, hitting it against your shoulder with a slight ‘thud’, before regaining your footing and flinging open the front door. On the other side was a wet, mop-headed delivery boy, looking rather shocked at the speed in which you had approached the door and more than likely hearing the impact your body made with it.

“Sorry, sorry!” You said, picking up the reusable bags that he had lugged from his car and sat on your front step. Before you could grab a third bag, his hands shot out to stop you, fingers grazing your arm and allowing you to finally get a clear read on his emotions— he was like the air after the rain: sweet, clean, and refreshing.

“Noona, you don’t have to do that, I got those.” He said, picking up the other four bags, two in each hand, before following you into the house and, albeit with some trouble, kicked off his boots. Jungkook really had no wicked bone in his body, not one. He never had a second agenda, never said something he didn’t mean, never held a grudge; and his emotions reinforced all of these facts regularly. It was no wonder you liked being around him— you never needed your abilities to tell you what he was really feeling or thinking. He was an open book for you, and he did so with the knowledge of what you were capable of.

“Thanks for coming all the way out here for me, I really appreciate it.” You chimed, setting the bags down on the counter, Jungkook following suit. He gave a light-hearted shrug before ruffling some of the water out of his own hair.

“It’s okay, you are paying me after all,” A small huff escaped your lips at his comment as you placed your new gallon of milk into the refrigerator. Humor spilled into the air as you became accustomed to his energy despite the rain and he stifled a laugh at your reaction. “I’m only joking— well, no, you are paying me— you know I like hanging out with you!” You cracked a smile, not even able to continue to pretend to be mad at him.

“Yeah, yeah… took you long enough to talk to me though!” Teasing him had quickly become one of your favorite past-times. He was so easily embarrassed, and the way he always touched his ears when he was especially bashful entered dangerous territories for your heart. Precious boy.

“Yeah, well, I’m not, I didn’t, UGH. You know what I’m trying to say!” You sputtered out a laugh, not even the least surprised that you did, in fact, know what he was trying to say. He had confided in you shortly after communication had been established that he got nervous around new people, most specifically women. You weren’t sure why, he was a kind, bright, good-looking young man, and he had never produced much of a reason for it either. That’s just how he was. Perhaps he didn’t want to overstep any barriers and make people uncomfortable? Though now that you knew him, being uncomfortable with Jungkook was entirely impossible. And at his pink cheeks and pout, you caved, throwing a grape at him just to make him flinch.

“Alright punk, I forgive you.” You said before popping a different grape into your mouth. The dark-locked boy rubbed his chest where the grape had bounced off, feigning offence, the continuous stream of humor flowing off of him enough for you to know that he was enjoying your banter.

“Thanks, noona, really appreciate it, almost a year later!” He crinkled his nose at you as if he were irritated before tumbling into a fit of laughter, where you joined him merrily. Precious boy.

“So, what have you been up to? How’s school?” Routine questions, but you honestly wanted to know. He looked thoughtful for a moment, clearly trying to think of any recent changes in his life. You raised an eyebrow as you closed the door to your fridge once you finished putting away the chilled goods. As expected, he shrugged.

“The usual.” He began helping you by unloading the canned goods onto the counter top. “My film class is getting pretty interesting though.” Folding the tote bag the groceries were in, he placed it on one of your bar stools and then looked at you. “What about you? Anything interesting happen lately? Any more birds fly into your window?” You rolled your eyes at his teasing— living out here by yourself, you rarely had anything substantial to share with your friend. This time, however…

“Well, I’ve got new neighbors…” You revealed, picking up a few of the canned goods. Jungkook raised his eyebrow, following your lead and collecting a couple of cans to help you on your way to the pantry.

“Oh yeah?” You hummed, nodding your head as you placed your cans on the shelf.

“Mmhm. A tall guy with purple hair and his roommate that’s apparently always sick.” You elaborated, not mentioning names for now. “They’re… nice.” At your hesitation, you felt a slight buzz of uneasiness from the man beside you. You looked at him, knowing he was aware that you felt his change. “What?”

“Just nice?” His brows furrowed slightly as he looked at you like he was trying to read your energy, which you believed with little doubt he could. You spent too much time by yourself anymore and you long had forgotten how to properly dress your expressions for social interactions. You let out a breathy chuckle at his concern.

“Yes, nice.” You reiterated, plucking the cans from his arms. He gave you an unimpressed look that was garnished with a pout. With a sigh, you indulged him. “I can’t get a good read on either of them…” Your confession only left him more confused.

“You mean your empath stuff, right?” A nod of affirmation. “Why can’t you read them? I thought you didn’t know how to turn it off?” You hummed thoughtfully, taking the last can from him.

“It’s not that I can’t read them, it’s just that…” You turned from the pantry after placing the last can on the shelf and ran a hand through your hair. “The one dude is always freaking out— panic, panic, panic— all the time! I’m afraid that he’s going to give himself a heart attack! But beyond that, I have a gut feeling telling me that he’s a good person, even when he deliberately lies to me.” Arms crossed, Jungkook looked at you pointedly.

“So… a good liar?” He asked, trying to understand your instincts. You shrugged with a groan.

“Maybe? I don’t know, I really do think he’s… good.” You stepped back over to the counter to grab your new paper towel rolls and plastic wrap to be set in their proper locations. Jungkook slid onto a bar stool and leaned against the counter.

“Okay, not really sure what that means, but…” You glared at him, and he grinned at you, obviously trying to hold back laughter. “What about the other one?” At that, you paused. How were you supposed to explain ‘the other one’? Caught up in your thoughts, you didn’t bother putting way the items in your hand, rather opting to just set them on the counter again.

“Well, uh…” You trailed off, not entirely sure if he would believe you seeing as the last time you tried to explain something improbable with Yoongi didn’t go as you had hoped. However, looking at the wide-eyed boy in front of you, everything about his aura was open and trusting and you knew that if you told him, he would believe you. “His emotions come in ‘blips’.”

“’Blips’?” He repeated— not in a condescending way, but rather as if he were trying to place the definition of the word. You nodded, less than prepared to explain yourself.”

“Yeah, I can’t feel his emotions all the time, they go away and reappear like radar blips. But they’re always super intense.” Resting your forearms on the counter, you let the edge press into your ribs a bit as you leaned forward. Even without your abilities, you could tell that Jungkook was trying to think of an answer, anything that could be the cause. You almost smiled at his thoughtfulness— there was nothing to suggest he didn’t believe you.

“Well,” he started, breaking you out of your trance. “You said he was sick all the time, right? Maybe that could affect your readings?” You had thought about that possibility as well— you had never been knowingly near a significantly ill person, so you couldn’t say that it wasn’t conceivable; though saying that was the only issue would be erroneous. Still, seeing as this was the only reasonable explanation you had come up with, you chose to put your faith in it.

“Maybe,” You agreed, nodding. You didn’t bring up the midnight visitor or the crawly feeling of being watched the last week or so, knowing the kind boy in your kitchen would likely throw a fit trying to figure out a way to help you. To be honest, you kind of wish he would, though that was only in your own selfish interests. Since you hadn’t had any real incidents besides that one, you decided not to worry the boy.

Unfortunately, Jungkook’s visit this time around had to be cut short, as he had other responsibilities to attend to in the evening. You gave him sass of course, stating that you couldn’t believe that he had something more important to do than keeping you company. He laughed and apologized, though a small twinge of guilt in the air made you realize that he knew the hidden meaning in your friendly repartee.

You were lonely.

You were also aware that he knew you’d be able to feel the minute change in his emotional state even with the rain, but neither of you commented on it before you ushered him out the door so he could drive home while it was still light out. He bid farewell before sprinting to his car to avoid getting completely drenched and you waved from inside the doorway, flinching when he peels out of your driveway like he was Brian O'Conner from the ‘Fast & Furious’ franchise.

Sighing, you stood in your doorway for a bit longer, listening to the rain and watching the reflections in the puddles dance. This was the part you hated most— the emptiness that follows the end of social interaction. You were used to being alone, and the longer you were alone the more used to it you became. However, the small instances when you were able to talk to another person, be near them, smile and laugh with them… they reminded you that humans were codependent on each other. You needed other people. As much as you were physically pained to be near them, you needed them. As you spent more time in isolation from the world, the more you yearned to be normal.

The sound of a blunt object hitting the glass of your window wall had you spinning on you heel out of reflex. As Jungkook had teased you earlier, it was common for birds to fly into the large window panes. More often than not, they were fine and they flew off. But every once in a while, they injured themselves, and you took it upon yourself to assess their injuries and making them comfortable if need be.

So, imagine your surprise when there wasn’t a small, winged creature on your back patio, but rather a tall, soaked, handsome boy with his palm pressed against your French doors. You blinked a few times for good measure, hoping this was just an illusion and that you weren’t currently looking at your sickly neighbor with the weird readings standing in the rain outside your house. When you realized he was just going to continue to stand there looking into your house until you greeted him, you quickly shut your front door and hastily made your way over to let him in.

As you got close, you realized there was a buzzing in the air, like it was vibrating, again in blips like radar. You recognized this as anxiety or nervousness and quickly deduced that it was coming from your neighbor. You paused before opening the door— you didn’t know this man; you’d barely met him more than once and only heard him speak a single time, and it wasn’t even to you. Plus, you still couldn’t shake the unnerving feeling you got whenever he was within your range; there was too much similar between how you felt about the boy in front of you and the thing you saw that night. Were you really about to let him into your house?

Almost like he could feel your hesitation, his hand slipped from the door and he looked at the ground dejectedly. A hole appeared in you doubt at this innocent act, and a quick, shooting pain pierced your chest. You couldn’t tell if it was your own guilt setting in or his emotions afflicting you, but you opened the door without another lingering moment to think about how bad of an idea this was.

‘He’s sick and shouldn’t be in the rain,’ You told yourself as you now stood in front of this near-stranger without the protective barrier of your glass door. You swallowed, your own nerves now wreaking havoc on your body, though the dark-haired boy in front of you look more shocked and more nervous than you did. In fact, if you didn’t get him to calm down soon, his nerves would probably cause you to throw up. And the fact that his emotions only appeared like explosions in the atmosphere around you wasn’t helping. Still, the way he looked down at his feet rather than at you, just…

“H-hello…?” You greeted; your uncertainty evident in your shaken speech. He made the smallest movement, like he was flinching at the sound of your voice and you almost wanted to backtrack. Good lord he was skittish. “What, uh, what are you doing here? I-I mean, can I help you?” Fumbling over your words wasn’t new for you, but for some reason you were especially aware of your tongue’s missteps at the moment.

He stood there for a moment, contemplating you surmised, before peeking up at you through his wet bangs. You made eye contact and— sweet heavens— you forgot about the alluring abyss that was his gaze. It only lasted for a moment before he looked at his feet again, which, you finally noticed, were completely bare.

“You said…” Now it was your turn to be startled; only now remembering how deep and velvet-like his voice was, even with how soft-spoken he currently was. “…that I could come….” He shifted, his nervousness beating around you like drums as you let his words sink in. You said he could come… you said he could come? When did you—

“Oh, um, well my house isn’t too far from yours…He’s welcome to stop by from time-to-time if he’s able… It’d be no problem… It’d be nice to have company every once-in-a-while.”

You suddenly remembered that, yes, you had invited him to visit you during your interaction Monday afternoon. At the time, you had your reasons, reasons that you couldn’t remember for the life of you at the moment. What on earth possessed you to tell a stranger it was fine to wander over to your house just because you were neighbors?!

And yet, the way his large body looked so small in front of you, like he was pleading with you to let him in…

“I-I did…” You relaxed your face enough to smile at him, your nerves still eating at you and a headache starting to set in from the intensity of his. You stepped aside to let him in, to which his head shot up and his eyes widened— you suppose he didn’t think you would actually let him in, but the sudden, yet agreeable change in his emotional blips was enough to tell you that he was relieved, pleased even, as he stepped in from the rain. “I should probably get you a towel, huh?”

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[sneyrwrites]

|5| Ace |Levi Ackerman x Reader

✘ Ace: Of Purpose and Promises ✘

|Wordcount: 5339|  |Ch. 1:  ✘ | |Previous:  ✘ |

The sun had barely risen when the ruffle of fabric alerted me.

As if it had become a routine for me I didn't get any sleep, settling for watching over the kids as they rested. It wasn't odd for someone from other sections to come in the middle of the night and steal stuff from lonely children. Startled by the tough of someone taking advantage of the two kids, I turned to them ready to pounce.

A pair of green eyes met my own. They were irritated and tired, but they were dry. I got a brief relief knowing the boy had a few decent hours of sleep. He was confused when he didn't feel the usual cold, looking down the boy noticed my cape and blanket, his eyes went to the girl next to him, who was still sleeping without issues, and then he looked at me.

"Um..."  He started, ashamed of needing my help, and accepting it. His eyes went to the floor, avoiding my gaze.

"There's no need to say anything, kid." I said, before he could continue. " Accept others amiability when they offer, you will need them at times like this."

He smiled at me.

"Eren" He said. "My name is Eren"

"Then you better get some more sleep Eren, it's still pretty early" His eyes opened wide. " I'll make sure to wake you up before they give the rations today. I promise, "  Was I too harsh? Why did Eren Looked like a kicked puppy? Maybe i had scared him. I tried to smile to lighten the tension.

"Thank you..." His gaze was cast down, I definitely was too harsh.

"(Y/N)." I introduced myself, and he perked up.

"Thank you (Y/N)" Eren laid back down and closed his eyes.

Fuck me me and my soft spot for kids. I couldn't be selfish with them, could I? Just ignoring them like everybody else did it would've been so much easier. But somehow, the cold biting my arms wasn't as bad as the feeling in my chest when I thought about Eren and the girl having to endure it.

As I watched the sun go up in the sky, I wondered if Annton had felt the same way towards me when he saw me in the alley. The tempting thought o just ignore the situation was there, peeking up, trying to tear a little of our humanity away, but Ann had been stronger than that and he lent me a helping hand on his own way.  Ann gave me dignity, and treated me like a capable human being, he was a friend who gave me independence and a family, and I owed him my life.

When I saw those two kids suffering like I had, back in the day. I couldn't just stand aside and maybe that was going to be my way of remembering Ann, following his example, remembering what he did for me with everything I did for them.

The sun started to heat up the earth and a few persons had woken up and were walking around as I kept sitting there with my head down in case a guard passed by, my only way of hiding was covering Eren and the girl as they slept, so I had to improvise with nothing at all.

A blonde kid came to where we were. He seemed to be around Eren's age, and I wondered why he didn't spend the nights with them, and I realized he must have had someone  taking care of him, and he spent the dark hours with them.

When he saw the two other kids sleeping, his blue eyes noticed me. Saying nothing, he sat beside me, bringing his knees to his chest, resting his chin on top of them. The silence that had settled between us was an uncomfortable one, at least for him. His shoulders were tense, and he sometimes stole glances at me. And if for whatever reason I moved a single muscle, he flinched startled. You could see he was shy a kilometer away.

The time passed like that, the both of us just waiting for the pair to wake up, or until it was time to go and search the rations of the day. The guards kept passing by really close to us and every time they I turned my chin down and covered my face, bringing the collar of my shirt up to my nose, leaving only my eyes visible. It was probably a little too much, they weren't even looking at me. The blond kid next to me noticed my strange behavior.

When the guards started to set up tables for handing the food, I decided it was time to wake them up. The kid's blue eyes opened wide when I reached for Eren's shoulder.

"Eren... Come on, it's time to wake up." I whispered, while I gently trying to shake him awake. "They're about to give the food." I didn't want to wake him up suddenly, for once in almost a week he was sleeping relatively okay.

A set of small finger curling around my wrist stopped my movements. Looking towards it, I noticed the girl had woken up. If looks could kill i would've been five feet underground. Five seconds into meeting her and I already could tell she was the one with the pants in the group, she reminded me a little bit of Hale.

I smiled and let go of Eren, but her grip remained on me.

"I'm glad you're awake. They're about to give the food out. Can you Wake Eren Up?"  I asked. She stared at me for a few seconds until she nodded. Her frown disappearing into a neutral expression.

I got up from the floor and stretched my sore muscles, the long hours off being against a hard wall taking a toll on me. The blond kid got up and helped the girl wake up Eren, who apparently was a heavy sleeper. They took a couple of minutes until he opened his eyes, I turned to the windows and noticed the guards almost about to start, anxiety settling into my stomach.

Eren sat up and rubbed his eyes couple of times, trying to dissipate the sleepiness.  Looking at the three of them made a warm feeling spread across my chest. They were cute, and they reminded me of Hale and Ivo. I tried to distract myself, otherwise the preoccupation for their wellbeing was going to drive me mad.

"I see you woke up kid," I said, smiling at him "God, you have a heavy sleep Eren." I joked. His cheeks turning red, cute.

"Sorry (Y/n), it's time to go to the line?" He asked getting up from the floor, my cape in his hands.

The other two kids stared at me, while Eren was trying to get rid of the wrinkles in my cape. Laughing, I stopped his attempts, extending my hand to grab it.

"It's fine Eren, the wrinkles are not the end of the world." He gave me the cape back and I placed it on my shoulders, tying it and pulling the hood up. It was still warm because of the kid's body heat and I smiled, comforted by the shade covering my face." They're about to start, so we should make the line"

Eren nodded, turning to the two kids who looked at him puzzled, specially the blond one.

"Armin, Mikasa.  Are you ready?" He asked.

With one last hesitant look at me, the blond kid, who I assumed was Armin nodded, getting up too.

"My grandfather must be about to go too." It relieved me. I was right about Armin in fact having someone left in this mess.

"All right, I'll go ahead now." I said as I separated from the wall I was leaning on. "You can join me once you're ready if you want." Eren nodded, and I walked to the door

The crowd had gathered around the doors, and the smell of sweat infiltrated into my nose. It's had been a week since most of us had a bath, with no lakes or rivers close by to shower in,  the water a valuable resource, and  hygiene was not a priority at the moment. A lot of us still had the clothes from the day Maria fell, and I wondered how many of us had blood from our loved one's staining the fabrics.

A guard shouted, getting all of our attention, and ordering us to go into a neat line. People went crazy, pushing each other as the guards took out the rifles, trying to calm us down. I had managed to stay pretty close to the front, and it was certain I was getting food that day. As I was waiting for my turn to go up, I heard the kids light and fast footsteps.

The three of them made their way to the crowd, the disappointment shadowing their faces as they noticed the amount of people that were in front of them. Eres eyes searched the sea of bodies, trying to localize me. I whistled, catching his attention and waved at him, a smile brighten up his face as he grabbed the others two arm's and he trotted to Where I was. Taking a step backwards I left them a space in front of me, so they could go first.

And apparently the man in front of me didn't like that one bit.

He grabbed Mikasa by the arm as she was passing by, his thick sausage fingers wrapped around her thin arm, and she almost fell to the ground startled. I felt the anger boiling inside of me when I saw what was going on.

"Hey...!" Started Eren, but I lifted my arm and stepped in front of the two other kids, making sure they stayed safe behind me.

Mikasa tried to free herself from the man's grip, as he was shaking her, his face red as he cursed and spitted. I was about to end the man.

"Fucking kids. Who do you think you are eh? Skipping the line like that!" He lifted his hand, about to slap Mikasa,  but before he could hit her I grabbed his wrist and squeezed.

"Is there a problem?" I asked, trying to use the most calm and neutral voice I could "Let go of her arm. Or I'll break your wrist" The man didn't move, his mouth snarling at me in disgust. There was a little of leftover crumbs on his beard and I tried to sooth the wave of nausea that hit me. He didn't move a muscle, challenging me, an arrogant look on his face. Mikasa's eyes went from one side to the other, trying to predict who would give in first. And like hell I would.

"Who do you...?" He started, but a groan of pain interrupted his complaint when I squeezed harder, he immediately let Mikasa go.

I was hopeful, thinking that it would be the end of it, but things were never simple in this world. Mikasa went to the other two, and I moved between the man and them. Contained rage shook his body, and he tried to hit me in the jaw, his fit shooting forwards. I leaned back and dodged it. If six years in the circle didn't taught me how to avoid a punch, I wouldn't have all of my teeth still attached. I could feel three pairs of eyes on the back on my neck. I turned around, making sure Mikasa was okay, and she smiled at me, in between Eren and Armin. Her eyes hardened when she looked at the man who assaulted her and I returned my attention to him.

I understood the stress and the tough times we were all going through, but that didn't give him the right to go around and trying to hit kids.

"So... I'll ignore that pathetic excuse of a punch.  Just stop bothering us and apologize to her." An indignation look crossed his features, as if i was denigrating him with my request. It wasn't a big deal, i wasn't asking or his first born, a simple apology would do the trick.

"In your dreams. Those kids would've been better off if they had stayed in Shinganshina. They don't work and they're only eating all of our resources and valuable water. They're just a waste of..." The feeling of cartilage breaking under my fist felt so good that I considered doing it one more time, but I contained myself.

The wailings of the pitiful man I had in front of me attracted the attention of a few surrounding people, whose judging eyes were on me. I was glad I had my cape on. I looked behind me and notice a few guards looking at me. Sighing, I gave up on the idea of food, I had gained too much attention, and from my spot on the line I couldn't see who was handing the rations, if it was a guard that frequented the basement I was screwed, one quick look and I would be on my way to Lord's Reiss hands.

Frustrated by all, I grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and brought him close to my face. The stench from his body slapped me in the face and i tried not to gag, attempting my best at sounding threatening. The smell of blood coming from his nose reminded me of the good old days fighting in the basement.

"Listen here you piece of shit... " I started accentuating the last word. " If a catch you bothering this kids again, I'll make sure you're unable to use your finger again." I let him go with a shove, and turned around, walking out of line, Two guards were coming my way. I grabbed Eren's shoulder, diverting his attention from the bloody nose, and pained groans from the man behind me. "Be careful and get your food, okay? If someone else tried to do anything to any of you, just scream my name and I'll come flying." I rushed away and I pulled my hood lower, eyes on the floor. Trying to disappear.

The guard's footsteps were following me, and I tried to play off my hurry. A nervous sweat coated my back. I had the dense crowd to my advantage. If I got in between them I was sure I could lose them. I turned to the left, ready to go in-between two mans who were having a conversation, but a hand on my shoulder stopped me before I could execute my plan .

My shoulders tensed under the heavy weight and I reluctantly turned around, trying not to cause a bigger scene, there was always the chance this man didn't know me. I looked up, and a relieved laugh almost bubbled up my chest. Ivo's serious expression meet mine, but his eyes were gentle. Trying not to smile I stared at him dead in the eyes, hoping to look defiant and rebellious, as we needed to keep the apparencies. One side of his smiled perked up almost imperceptibly, and as if nothing happened Ivo guided me inside the building.

"Come with me miss, we must discuss the occurrence" I didn't reply, and followed his heavy footsteps.

Looking back at the kids, who were almost at the front and their eyes were glued to me, I lifted my thumb, letting them know everything was fine.

Once we got away from the curious glances of the noisy crowd, I threw myself at Ivo, circling him with my arms, he lost his footing and we almost went face first to the ground but he regained his balance.

"I can recognize that right hook anywhere." He laughed, tightening our embrace even more "You do realize what you did was really stupid, right?" Letting me go, Ivo flicked my forehead with a finger. "But it's okay. Hale and I've been looking for you, everywhere. The distraction with Maria was convenient, but this city will not hold these amount of people." His tone was somber, " Don't tell anyone, but they're talking about launching an operation to  retake wall Maria." His hands griped my shoulders, a seriousness in his face I'd only seen when Ann was killed. "It's a suicide mission Ace, don't you dare be in between those lines when they go.  They're just trying to get rid of some part of the population to decompress the inner walls." My disdain for the government raised. "And they are also still looking for you..." It seemed like Ivo could only give terrible news. As if he had noticed my sour attitude he hurried to try to make it better. " Dont worry tho, they told us to keep our eyes open for a girl with your description. Thankfully we have things more urgent than a killer teenager, like killer titans for example... But just in case keep a low profile."  He stared at me for a few seconds and then hugged me tight once more. It seemed like he was afraid I would disappear at any moment. "I love you kid, so try not to die... I got to go or they'll suspect. Hale asked me to say she loves you too."

"And I love both of you." I got away from his arms. " And  you better survive until I graduate, so you can give me your farewell as I go to my certain death in the surveys." I joked, kind of.

"Oh man, I wish you could join my branch, it would've been fun. We do nothing all day. Or we used to, nowadays it's a bit more busy." I could imagine, after all they needed to be alert now, the titans could try to breech Rose at any moment. I was concerned about him, and I hoped that if it ever happened, he would be far away from the mess. "I'll keep a close eye on you. Not on a creepy way, just making sure you're safe. I'll come for you to take you to the training camp." I nodded. Ivo reached in his pocket and took out a package, the brown paper wrapping what looked like a brick.  "Hey, don't give it the stink eye, this is what you'll eat in the field. I know you have a soft spot for those three kids, but don't be dumb and make sure to keep your strength up."

Ivo handed me the food and turned to go, throwing a "Be careful" over his shoulder, leaving without waiting for my answer.

Left alone, I pondered on just how fucked I was. Even in the crisis humanity was going through, that fucking bastard was after my ass. And I wasn't even surprised about the mission they would launch. It was the easiest way out of the possible starvation Rose's population was going to go through. It was just a matter of time before we started to claw each other's eyes out for a cracker. Not even a month had passed, and we were already freaking out about the food.

I walked to where I slept and opened the package. Inside there was a biscuit that looked like it could sink a dead body. Sighing, I leaned against the wall and started munching on it.  Surprisingly, It didn't taste as bad as it looked. I adjusted the hood over my face and slide down the wall, sitting on the floor.

Eren, Armin and Mikasa came barreling through the door, each one holding a package just like mine. They sat down in front of me, the two boy's eyes traveled my face, making sure I was okay, while Mikasa just stared at her worn shoes. Concerned filled me. What if that asshole had traumatized her?

"Mikasa, are you okay?" I asked, not sure of how was her mental state. Not knowing if she had any grim experiences in the past that this episode could trigger.

"Yes..." Her voice was barely audible, but she looked at me and smiled "Thank you."

The tension in my body dissipated with her gesture. I released the air I was holding, and I pulled my hood back a little, just enough so they could see my face.

"Are You hurt? Did the guard do anything to you?" Eren asked, concerned. He was such a cute kid, and I almost wanted to squish the hell out of his cheeks.

"There's no need to worry, he let me off the hook with a warning." I winked at him. "Now eat, you must be hungry."

The sound of tearing paper and the crunch of their bites created a relaxed atmosphere, as the four of us eat the mediocre food they gave us. Looking at Armin I couldn't help the chuckle that came out, he was covered in crumbs to the point where it almost looked like a beard.

But although we were all in a comfortable silence, Armin kept stealing glances at me from time to time. He even opened his mouth and closed it, as if he was afraid to ask me something. After the sixth time in a row he did this I sighed. Crumbling the leftover paper in my hands it sat straight and looked at him.

"You can say whatever your thinking Armin" His big blue eyes filled with surprise focused on me . "I don't bite, so it's okay." Eren and Mikasa's stare went from his face to mine, trying to decipher what their friend was about to say.

I smiled at him, trying to ease a little of his apprehension toward me, hoping that at least he would be less afraid of me if I took the time to listen to him, His eyes studied me for a few seconds with intensity, I suppose trying to decide if he would talk or not. Finally he opened his mouth and let a single question out.

"Why are you hiding from the military?"

Shit.

There was no use in lying to them, Armin had already noticed, but I was not about to go spreading all the dirty and gruesome ditals on impressionable children. Apparently I was doing a shitty job being discreet, or maybe Armin was ten times smarter than the bunch of guards surrounding us.

"Ami that obvious?"  I asked, concerned. Armin nodded, while Eren and Mikasa shook their heads. I sighed, defeated. If a kid could piece together my odd behavior an adult could do it in a heartbeat"

"I promise I'll keep the secret" he declared. How could this kid trust me? he barely knew me, for all he knew I could be a serial blond child killer. Sensing the question in my mind, Armin continued. "You defended Mikasa and stood up for us. You also gave them your sleeping stuff,  both without knowing them, so I don't think you're bad" Well shit, this kid was endearing.

"Uh... well I..." stammered, not knowing what to say and what to leave out of the explanation. "A very powerful person did something horrible to a friend of mine and blamed me for it. "It was a very washed out version of the facts, and it was all they needed to know. "So now the soldiers are looking for me, under their commands. And there's also the problem about Maria falling. My only safe place to hide was my house... And it was inside those walls, and my father is..." A stab went through my heart when I noticed the error in my words, and I didn't want to correct them. "Was a garrison, he died trying to rescue someone, or at least I think he did... I haven't heard of him since.." Things got quite emotional, and I adverted my gaze, trying to hide the tears that filled them when I thought of dad. I stroke his ring, trying to keep his memory close.

Eren growled, and I looked at him. His eyes were cast down and he had his fist clenched, his body shaking and a scowl was plastered in his face.

"I'll kill them all!" He hissed, as his green eyes shone with pure anger." I swear i will, for mom ans for (Y/N)'s father.... When I'm in the survey corps, I'll exterminate all the titans! "

The determination in his eyes gave me chills. Now I understood a little more what happened to them. But shit! Eren wanted to enlist in the scout regiment. That meant that, if I survived, we would be comrades. My imagination went loose for a moment, and a disturbing picture of him in a titan's jaw, my heart clenched at the possibility.

Even tho he was still a kid, i could see a resolve in his eye only a few adults had. Hale's blue eyes replaced Eren's in my mind, and I knew there was no way of changing his mind.

"How Old are you?" I questioned, if he was old enough it was almost a fact he would enlist in the same training group as me.

"10..." Admitted Eren, and I almost celebrated in joy, he still had 2 more years to regret his decision. His fate wasn't set in stone yet. "I know you think there must be something wrong with me because of what I want. But I won't stay still and act like cattle." I kinda felt bad fr him. No matter how suicidal it was, a dream was a dream, he must have a damn good reason to go outside the walls, and I was no one to judge, I would join too, against my better judgment but still, and dad raised no hypocrite.

"Can I tell you a secret Eren?" I asked, his frown still present. "I'll join the Survey Corps too, and we will be partners... So I'll wait for you and we'll go out of these walls together. How does that sound?" I offered. A smile replaced the sunken expression he had previously. Why did I wanted to make him feel better? Why did I promise such a thing? I had no idea, but at the moment it felt like the right thing to say.

"Me too." Mikasa's Quiet but firm voice stated, her black eye gazing straight at me.

"I'll join too... And we'll see the ocean Eren." Armin said, the nervous waver his voice had when I was around nowhere to be found.

"Ocean?" I questioned, the term was completely unknown to me. The three kids looked at me, the excitement showing in their eyes despite my ignorance.

The rest of the afternoon we spend it sitting there, Armin narrating the stories in his Grandfather's book. painstakingly beautiful pictures of salty waters and white sand appearing in my mind, even tho it took some effort from my side.  It was extraordinary. We spoke without stopping until Armin left for the night, promising he'll talk to his grandfather about me, so he could talk to me about the book and the rest of the stories we couldn't explore that day. I just laughed, trying to extinguish the little hint of excitement that appeared inside upon his offer.

The cold came back to chase us, Eren and Mikasa trembling uncontrollably, I could even hear their clattering teeth. Once the guards declared the lights off, and the last candle was blown out, I took off my cape, indicating the kids to lie down so I could tuck them in.

"What about you (Y/n)?" Asked Mikasa. Her voice was as monotone as always, but a hint of concerned adorned her face "It's cold" She stated the obvious.

"Yeah, don't you sleep at all?" Eren inquired.

"Not much as of lately, sometimes I take a nap here and there, but I rather the both of you sleeping properly." Sharing a look, they nodded to each other, and sat up on their improvised mattresses.

"Then we'll keep you company." Eren announced. Damn it, once again the warm fuzzy feeling spread in my chest. I gigged amused at their antics.

"No, the two of you are going to sleep because you are still growing and you need it. So come on, lay down so I can cover you up." They just stared at me, a stubborn tilt on their chins. Eren even went ahead and crossed his arms. "All right whatever, Stay awake all night if you want." I was convinced they would pass out from sleep in an hour maximum.

And I was completely wrong. I was surprised at their resolve. Eren and Mikasa showed me just how far you can go if you're determinate enough. Two hours later they were still awake, with heavy lids and barely conscious, but they had endured more than what I expected. I saw them struggle to stay awake as I told them stories about Hale and Ivo, and the time Annton picked me up from the street. Eren recounted in a whisper how Mikasa ended up with his family, and I understood why she was so close to him. They both narrated how they met Armin and how they would always go out and pick wood together.

The vulnerability I was allowing myself to show in those moments were a luxury. In the last times I hadn't been able to relax and just listen to the voices of the past, that fight to make me remember the good and happy days that were gone forever, but that always willbring a smile to my face.

When Eren's head nodded for the fifth time I had enough. Grumbling I got up, Mikasa watching me silently.

"Okay, both of you, lay down now. And leave me some room." They'd won that round.

Once the three of us were protected from the freezing night air Eren smiled smugly at me, gloating in their victory. I stretched my arm across Mikasa's body, that was separating us,  and flicked his forehead, just like Annton and Ivo used to do when i was little.

"God, you two are stubborn." I muttered. Mikasa turned on her side to face me and smiled. " Now go to sleep. It's late and I'm not going to wake your sleepy butts to get the food tomorrow, you little rascals." I tried to sound threatening, but a slight smile curled my lips.

In a few minutes the kids were fast asleep, while I on the other hand was convinced that another sleepless night was coming.

I was about to get up from the precarious bed the three of us were sharing and to take my usual spot against the wall, but Mikasa's hand found mine underneath the blankets.

I thought she was awake because of the noise I made while trying to leave, but when I turned to her she was still sound asleep. If I got up with her holding my hand she was going to wake up and I was going to feel guilty as fuck. So carefully not to move her I settled back down, and just watched them sleep. In a completely non creepy way.

Mikasa was holding Eren's jacket in the same way she was holding my hand.

I was happy they still had each other and Armin too. The three of them together would go far, and maybe even keep each other's safe from the titans. A sudden Nostalgia hit me as I thought of my friends, Annton was no longer with us, but his memory and the ring in my hand would give me the strength I needed to get out of the mess I was in.

And I was going to help those three kids as much as I could until we had to make our separate ways, the certainty of our paths crossing again in the lines of the survey corps giving me something to look forward too, and the resilient hope of them retracting on their decisions was still present.

Eren and Mikasa's soft breath lulled me, and for the first time in days the sleep reached me.

              |Next:  ✘|

[whentommymetalfie]

Be Where You Are

A/N: nothing, my brain is empty from editing! just please enjoy this huge chunk of mostly fluff and forgive me

Summary: Five times Alfie and Tommy talked about spending the rest of their lives together -with each other, with others, and sometimes without doing much talking at all. 

In which there's house-hunting, life changing decisions, and yet another failed (sort of) shovel talk from Arthur.

Notes/warnings: Heavy drinking and implied alcoholism, smut

Wordcount: 10 K (yes, yes it’s that long) 

It may be true that Alfie Solomons is not the most… patient man in the entire world. He’s well aware of that. But when it comes to the things that truly matters, he’d like to think that he can in fact dig deep and muster up some of it. Patience, that is. Like with everything that concerns Tommy, for example. That includes his at best mildly infuriating and at worst absolutely unbearable family. And the living situation on Watery Lane. He’s put up with that far longer than any sane (or… less sane) man should ever have to.

But it’s the lock on their door breaking that finally is the last fucking drop.  

Alfie has suffered through Arthur banging on their door at all hours, from early fucking morning to late in the evening (And yeah he’s entirely fucking sure that he does it just to disrupt any amorous activity that may or may not be going on in there, despite Tommy rolling his eyes at this and stating that not even Arthur could be that childish).

He’s quietly bitten his tongue whenever Ada’s passed by to ask irrelevant questions; like if Tommy has seen her missing dress. And no, why on earth would he have done that? Ada only gives Alfie a look when he grumbles this, which makes him wonder exactly what she thinks he and Tommy get up to in bed. When he brings this up with Tommy, Tommy is mostly annoyed that Alfie thinks Ada’s dress would even fit him. (He’s pretty sure that it would bu that’s not the point)

Then there’s John, who can’t seem to take a single step without checking with Tommy first whether it’s alright or not…. And all of these are just things that Alfie can come up with at the top of his head.

Well, the point is that he’s been very fucking patient with all of it. Because if the Shelbys all want to share the roof of that giant, rickety ancestral home, then that’s all well and good. And yeah he’s well aware that the whole lot -Tommy in particular, even though he’d deny it to his dying day- suffer some kind of collective abandonment issue. So, Tommy moving out before Finn is older is out of the question.

But when Arthur actually manages to break the fucking lock on their bedroom door by bursting in through it, Alfie’s had enough. On top of it all, he just got Tommy onto his back, making those noises that would make the best of men commit all sorts of atrocities if only to hear them again. Legs spread and cheeks flushed, and looking absolutely worthy to be devoured…

That’s when Arthur stumbles in, effectively putting a stop to the whole thing. And once he has rushed out again, red faced and shouting, Tommy is not in the mood anymore. In fact he’s so much not in the mood that he rolls over onto his side and hides his face under a pillow when Alfie suggests that now when they’ve scared Arthur off, they might as well get back to what they were doing.

And that’s when Alfie’s had enough.

“Tommy, my dove,” he says, very carefully keeping the frustration from his voice as he runs a hand up Tommy’s arm. “Has it, and I ask this with the best of intentions in mind, has it ever fucking crossed your mind that living somewhere where your relatives can’t burst through the door at all hours would bring you some peace of mind?”

A muffled noise comes from under the pillow.

“See, I know it might take some time getting used to the idea, but finding a good house, yeah, that’s also something that takes a bit of time, doesn’t it? So you might’s well start looking, should you decide later that this is an acceptable idea-“ It’s very hard to gauge Tommy’s reaction when he’s under the pillow like this, so Alfie pauses. But when no life signs come from the feathery depths, he goes on: “I’m not saying that I’m tired of these constant interruptions, no, who doesn’t want people running in and out of one’s bedroom at all hours, fucking brilliant thing, isn’t it? All I’m saying is that your family would most definitely survive making a phone call instead. Or just taking a little walk when they feel the need to ask you something.”

Tommy is quiet and Alfie has the good sense to stay quiet too, knowing this is the mandatory processing time that he needs to go through before giving some kind of response.

Finally he rolls over onto his back, pulling away the pillow to reveal a head full of messy curls and cheeks that are still a bit flushed.

Alfie waits expectantly.

Tommy reaches for a cigarette.

“Fine,�� he says, raising an eyebrow when Alfie gives him an incredulous look.

“Fine?”

“Fine.” Tommy lights the cigarette.

And that’s that.

A week later, Alfie is coming along as certified ‘Haver of great taste’ on this house buying mission.

“Now this, Tommy, this is a proper bedroom,” he says, cane tapping over the wooden flooring as he inspects the spacious room with its fancy wallpaper. But it’s a bit of an overstatement, that. The room is in fact not very inviting. Something about it feels… inhospitable and cold. But that’s what you get with an empty house, innit? And it’s better than Tommy’s little nook back in his family home.

Tommy nods, decidedly unenthusiastic. Not that his face is giving it away, but Alfie can read most of his tiny little shifts in mood without any problem these days. There’s that slight slump to his shoulders, and the way he’s not quite looking properly at the room. The same it’s been with the other four fucking houses they’ve been to. Alfie is starting to feel all the staircases in his knees.

“Could put a bed over there, and fit in a huge wardrobe for all those expensive suits of yours-“ he says. “Could have two, even.”

Instead of looking, Tommy stands by the window and gazes listlessly out at the dreary street below, smoking his cigarette with the same air of indifference.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

The question sort of surprises Alfie, because although he’s realised long ago that Tommy does in fact care a great deal about his opinion, it’s unlike him to admit it out loud.

“Well, love, I do fancy myself a man of good taste in all matters, the present company clearly being proof of that. But for once, what I think isn’t what’s most important.”

Tommy very thoroughly avoids looking at him.

“Well, it’d… be your house too.” He says the words with a slight shrug and carefully constructed nonchalance. Swallows visibly -Alfie can see it all the way from across the room. “Ours.”

Ours.

Maybe it’s ridiculous, how monumental that little word feels, but Alfie can’t help it -it does send him reeling for a bit. It’s not like they don’t already live together. They do, in most senses of the word. Wherever Tommy is, Alfie is too. And vice versa of course. But that’s been more of a gradual thing rather than a big decision -Tommy has just slowly crept into every crevice of Alfie’s townhouse back in London: an ashtray on the kitchen table, well pressed suits hanging between Alfie’s own in the wardrobe, extra blankets in the bed because Tommy always runs a few degrees colder than any other warm blooded creature… And the house is arguably just as much Tommy’s home as it is Alfie’s now. But Alfie has a feeling that although Tommy might view it as both of their home, it’s still Alfie’s house. Alfie isn’t entirely sure if there’s a distinction to be made, but it feels like there is.

Buying a fucking house together feels like officially stating out loud that this is a permanent kind of thing. And even though Alfie has known that particular fact for a while, even though they’ve talked about the prospect of doing it in the future, there’s still something about hearing Tommy say it out loud that fills his entire chest with warmth.

“Ours, eh?” he repeats and Tommy’s shoulders set into a rigid line. He walks up behind him and smooths a hand over them. “Well, in that case we should be looking at something with an actual, proper fucking kitchen.” He can feel the muscles relax under his palm. “Yeah? And with a more appealing view, if that is to be found in this shithole.”

“Maybe something outside of the city,” Tommy says quietly, still looking out the window.

Alfie says nothing. Barely dares to breathe

Tommy clears his throat. “You know… like we talked about. I’ve been thinking and- and it might be nice. We could always just drive into town for work.”

Alfie still says nothing, for fear that anything he might say will ruin this. But he lets the hand on Tommy’s shoulder slip down to his waist, tugging him a bit closer. Tommy willingly turns to face him, arms coming up to loosely encircle his neck. His eyes are still fastened on some undetermined spot on his chest.  

“Yeah, well, then we’ll have no trouble with the view,” Alfie says after careful consideration. “Whole countryside is full of it, innit? Granted that’s all it’s full of, but that’s the whole point of it, right?”

A smile tugs at the corner of Tommy’s mouth and he finally glances up at Alfie. Alfie rubs small circles on his back with his thumb.

“You sure about this? Don’t have to be doing anything you’re not ready for, love.”  

Tommy leans in that last little bit and kisses him. And then the smile finally widens into a real one -the kind that makes his eyes sparkle and manages to light up the entire, previously so cold room.”

“I’m sure.”

Two

Alfie wakes up from the book he’s been reading very falling down onto his face, and blinks to adjust his eyes to the darkness in the living room. The fire has died down to glowing embers, telling him that he must’ve somehow managed to sleep with the book in upright position for a while before it rudely decided to jam the edge of his glasses into his face. It also tells him that it’s late, and, combined with the silence in the house (and the fact that Tommy would no doubt have moved the book from his grasp) tells him that Tommy hasn’t come home yet and is working a whole lot later than usual. And he is just about to get off the sofa and call the office to tell Tommy to get himself home right this instance when the door creaks open. The annoyance is instantly replaced with relief, because fuck it, he can’t help it. Just the way he functions, innit?

He can hear Tommy moving about in the hallway, and it’s probably a sign of something significant, that he can hear just from his steps that there’s something wrong. Unwilling to explore that thought any further, he closes the book and listens.

“Tommy?”

There’s no answer, and that’s enough of an incentive for him to struggle his way off the sofa and out into the hallway. Tommy is stood by the large bureau, clutching the top in a white knuckled grip. A quick onceover tells Alfie that at least he’s not fucking bleeding from anywhere. But he’s so pale that his skin looks fucking luminous in the dark hallway.  

“Oi, Tommy?” He crosses the hallway in a few long strides, and that’s when he can smell the whiskey. Tommy glances up at him, bleary eyed and flushed, swaying on his feet.

“Fucks sake,” Alfie sighs and pitches forward to catch him when his legs inevitably give out. Tommy clings to him, shuddering breaths making his back heave. He uselessly tries to catch his gaze without much success. “Hey, are you gonna be sick?”

All he gets in response is a weak hum, but it’s enough. Wasting no time, he drags Tommy into the kitchen and to the sink -the closest appropriate place to be sick- and barely has time to deposit him there before Tommy is vomiting his guts out. Alfie pats his back and mulls over if he could’ve seen this coming earlier in the day.

“I take it you broke into my desk, hm? Or will I find one of the fucking stills empty tomorrow, eh, silly boy…”

His disapproving mutters go unnoticed. Not that Tommy is really capable of listening right then, because he barely has time to breathe between the horrid waves of retching. Alfie puts all other thoughts on halt and just focuses on damage control, continuing to rub Tommy’s back and steadying him against his hip when his knees want to buckle. Not much else to do right then. But Tommy just continues vomiting long after the most likely meager contents of his stomach are gone, and finally, the bile that splashes into the sink is red with blood. Fucking hell. Yeah, he’ll have to step in here…

He puts a hand on the back of Tommy’s neck.

“Alright, deep breaths now, love,” he says. “You ain’t got nothing left to vomit up so I’m gonna need you to just breathe for a bit. Go on-“ Tommy pants, still hunched low over the sink on shaking arms, and Alfie takes the opportunity to fill a glass of water. He manhandles Tommy into a somewhat upright position against his chest and holds it to his mouth. Tommy just whines and turns his head away. His skin feels cold and clammy when he pushes his forehead into the crook of Alfie’s neck.

“ ‘m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah it’s all fine,” he mutters and resists the urge to sigh. “Go on and drink this, or you’ll be even sorrier tomorrow.”

Tommy leans all his weight against him, and Alfie has to wrap an arm around his waist to keep him upright, all while continuing to fruitlessly push the glass of water against his lips. It takes a few more seconds, and then Tommy finally opens his mouth, grabs the glass and greedily swallows the entire thing down in three long gulps before Alfie can protest or remedy the situation-

Which of course has him hunching over the sink again, vomiting it all up within a second.

They end up on the floor after the whole ordeal, because Tommy just collapses where he stands and Alfie isn’t quite quick enough to do anything but break his fall. He’s still dry heaving somehow, and it’s right about then Alfie actually starts to worry.

“Tommy, hey, I’m gonna need you to focus for a moment here,” he says and holds his head up by his chin. Tommy’s eyes are still closed, his long lashes dark against his cheek. “Do you need me to get you to a hospital? Is it that kind of situation?”

Tommy shakes his head and curls into him, tearing his chin away from Alfie’s grip to bury his face in his shirt. And at least he’s stopped dry heaving for now, so Alfie will take his fucking word for it.

“ ‘m sorry,” Tommy repeats against his chest when Alfie pulls him into his lap. He’s finally opened his eyes a little, if only barely, and looks up at him, struggling to focus.

“What are you sorry for, eh?”

“Just… fuck up all the time.”

Alfie sighs and tries to adjust his right leg to avoid a cramp.

“Feel like telling me why you suddenly decided to fucking drown yourself in whiskey on this fine day?” he mutters and pets Tommy’s hair. “Seemed alright when I left you at the office.”

Tommy shrugs and slurs, “ ‘s just bad. ‘vrything’s bad.”

Alfie hums. Tries to not feel disappointed because he really thought they’d gotten past this. But it’s a two steps forward, one step back kind of deal, isn’t it? It’s been… well now when he thinks about it it’s been months since Tommy last had a proper slump, so they’re probably due for one. And they’re fewer and farther between now. He tries to remind himself of that.

“Bad day eh? How about you just do what you normally do and tell me, instead of doing shit like this.”

Tommy pulls his knees up to his chest, turns himself into a ball as he buries his face in Alfie’s chest and just breathes. Alfie continues stroking his hair.  

“You’ll get sick of me,” he mutters suddenly, without emerging.

“Well, I do recall us having this conversation before. Multiple times, in fact, but I suppose I can remind you: since I haven’t gotten sick of you yet, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Maybe- maybe not now, but in-  in five years. Or ten,” Tommy mumbles.  “Twenty.”

Despite the implication -that Tommy himself can’t see an end to these occasional burst of self-destructive behavior- Alfie can’t help smiling.

“Twenty years, eh? We’re in this for the long haul I hear.”

Tommy’s entire body freezes into a tightly coiled ball of muscles. But Alfie keeps stroking his hair.

“I won’t get sick of you, love. Not in ten years, or twenty, or fuckin’… fifty. Though I can’t promise that you won’t eventually get sick of me now, can I. That’s a long fucking time, fifty years.”

Under his fingers, Tommy’s back heaves in a shivering breath and he pushes his face further into the confines of Alfie’s wrinkled shirt. He wraps his arms around Alfie’s chest.

“I won’t. Not for… for as long as I live.”

Alfie has to clear his throat.

“Well, that’s good, innit? Because you’re sort of stuck with me now.”

“Good.”

And with that, Tommy has apparently fallen asleep in his lap.  

Three

”How many people have you slept with?” Alfie asks Tommy one night, as the beginning of what could quickly turn into the worst pillow talk in recorded history. But it’s one of those occasions when the question just pops straight from his mind and out of his mouth. Luckily, he’s spent the past hour or so doing a very good job of fucking Tommy in every position imaginable, and Tommy lies satiated and warm against his chest. So his question is only met with a quiet little laugh.

“Haven’t we talked about this before?”

“Nah, then I was just wondering if you’d slept with that tall, lanky…” Alfie gestures to help the words along, “Communist fellow.

“Freddie Thorne,” Tommy offers helpfully.

“Hm, yeah, that’s the one. But now I’m just thinking about the general number.”

Tommy shifts, lifting his head up and settling his chin on Alfie’s chest. His eyes are still soft, a glint of laughter in them.  

“Hm, what was it? Half of Birmingham or something, wasn’t that what you said at some point? So how many would that be?”

Alfie snorts, even though he probably deserved that.

“Why do you ask?” Tommy wonders then, genuinely curious it would seem. Alfie shrugs a little, a hard feat while lying down.

“It just feels a bit strange doesn’t it? The idea that you might not fuck anyone else for the rest of your life. That this is all you’ll be getting.”

“Oh, ifthisis all I’ll be getting, I’ll be more than satisfied,” Tommy whispers, and suddenly there’s a hand on his cock, fingers curling loosely around the shaft.

“Always knew you only wanted me for my cock,” Alfie says with mock offence, and Tommy smirks as he begins stroking him slowly.

“Well, in my defense, it’s a very nice cock. Best one I ever had in fact. And I should know, seeing as I’ve slept with… half of Birmingham.”

All blood is rapidly leaving his head, and Alfie sighs, feeling quite pleased with the turn the conversation has taken. Tommy rubs careful circles over the head of his cock, and he slips a hand down to grip his arse firmly, pulling him closer against his hip.

“Mhm, talk more about how much you like my cock.”

Tommy huffs out a laugh and kisses him, slow and soft as he rubs himself against Alfie’s thigh. Alfie is fully hard already, aching and leaking in Tommy’s grip, because fucking hell if he’s not ready to give it to him again whenever Tommy wants it…

“As if your ego needs it,” Tommy whispers against his lips, before sitting up and straddling him. Alfie’s hands immediately find his waist, palms flexing against the expanse of smooth skin and lean muscle. Tommy’s waist fits perfectly there, with Alfie’s fingers around it. Just as the rest of his body fits against Alfie’s: how his head lies perfectly against that spot on his chest, or how Alfie can tuck him under his chin… like a perfect puzzle piece- And then his thoughts are interrupted because Tommy rolls his hips, grinding down on his hard length and he bucks up against him, impatient. It seems to be one of those days when Tommy doesn’t need much convincing, because he just takes Alfie’s cock in hand again and sinks down slowly, moaning obscenely as it slides all the way in. He’s slick and open from before and something about that, fuck, that just makes Alfie so turned on that he gets fucking dizzy… That Tommy just so ready for him: wet and just barely open enough- Fucking hell this isn’t going to last long if he keeps this train of thought. He bites his tongue hard, hoping the pain will bring him back enough to keep himself from coming right then.

Tommy rides him slowly, just barely lifting his hips to begin with. Must be a bit too deep to really be doing it for him, but fuck it really does it for Alfie, is the thing, and Tommy appears pleased to just be giving him what he wants. He’s so fucking wet and warm and tight, and he must be feeling it because Alfie went none to gently on him before. Tommy curls his fingers loosely around his own cock and moves in tandem with his thrusts, eyes falling shut.

Alfie just keeps his hands on his waist for now, lightly, not trying to control anything. When Tommy gets on top like this, it’s usually because he wants to set the pace himself, and who is Alfie to deny him anything?

“Fucking hell, just look at you,” he breathes out. “Wish you could see yourself now, love- really is something else entirely, aren’t you?”

Tommy lets go of his cock and settles his hands on Alfie’s chest instead, lifting his hips higher and making Alfie slide almost all the way out before sinking back down. Moans each time, loud and unabashed and fucking desperate for it, as if it wasn’t just half an hour ago that Alfie pounded him into the mattress until he’d screamed himself hoarse.

Then he tugs at Alfie’s shoulders and Alfie takes the hint immediately, sitting up and wrapping his arms tightly around that narrow waist.

“Why would I ever want anyone else, ever again?” Tommy leans in and whispers, voice husky and unsteady in a way that just shoots arousal down his spine. He rolls his hips, cock brushing against Alfie’s stomach. His legs are trembling now, so Alfie helps him along, holding his weight up with his arms. Fingers tangle into his hair and Tommy kisses him, wet and sloppy and panting loudly, frantically pulling in the too hot air between them. Alfie has no answer of course, because with Tommy like this on his lap, grinding down on his cock and looking like it really is the best fucking thing he’s ever had, no, he can’t come up with a reason why.

“Fuck, it’s so good- so fucking good Alfie I-“ Tommy buries his face in the crook of his neck, clinging properly to his shoulders now. “No one else could ever come close.”

Alfie’s hips are moving on their own accord now, while he virtually takes Tommy’s entire weight and lifts him up and down on his cock, because Tommy’s legs have apparently decided to give up. And he doesn’t fucking mind in the least, does he? Because Tommy makes these desperate little noises, rutting and grinding against him as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“Won’t ever have to worry about that now, do you?” Alfie mutters into his ear. “Because you’re all mine and I’m going to take care of you. Fucking hell, if I had my way, you wouldn’t ever have to leave the bed. Would just keep you there. Make sure you’re fucked real good every single day… several times a day, because that’s what you want isn’t it?”

Tommy whimpers, and Alfie releases his waist to wind his fingers into his hair and pull his head back. And Tommy is just there, unable to move properly and just desperately grinding on Alfie’s cock. And it’s a fucking sight alright. His eyes are blown wide, filled with that raw, open vulnerability. It makes Alfie growl and tug harder at his hair.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” Tommy whispers. “Always.”

Then his hands are back on Alfie’s shoulders and he pushes himself up, despite his shaking legs and clenches around Alfie and that’s it, Alfie fucking goneand he fucks up and into Tommy, arms clenched tight around his waist again. Tommy lets out an almost pained sound, shaking and twitching in his grip as he comes all over his stomach.

He collapses completely against him afterwards. Alfie can’t be bothered to stay upright and slumps down onto the mattress, but manages to at least be considerate enough to keep Tommy from hitting his head on the bedframe.

It takes several minutes before Alfie comes back enough to himself to manoeuvre Tommy off him, which is necessary, because God knows Tommy will just stay right where he is for the rest of the night otherwise, with Alfie’s cock still buried in his arse. Always needy and clingy after sex, Tommy of course whimpers out various complaints, until Alfie has got him settled against his chest again. And that, well that’s somehow just as great as the actual sex isn’t it? Alfie hushes him. Strokes his back until he’s calmed down again and seems at peace. Tommy drapes one leg across Alfie’s hip and noses against that spot on his chest that’s become his designated head rest, right below his left collarbone.

Alfie runs a finger down his spine, grabs the blanket and pulls it up over them both. Because although he still feels overheated, he knows for a fact that Tommy will start shivering in a minute. That’s just how it works.

“So, I take it you’re not going to miss fucking anyone else? Hm? Is that what I should take away from this?” He smirks to himself when he sees the exasperated wrinkle between Tommy’s eyebrows. “See, because I might need more convincing. Not straight away, mind you, but in half an hour or so…”

Tommy slaps his arm with the conviction of a sleepy cat swatting for a fly that’s buzzing around it’s ears.  

“Fuck off. You’ve gotten yours tonight. Twice.”

“Oh, it’s more than that if you count the times I very selflessly made you come, love, How about you add that to the list of my fine qualities? What other man has done that for you?”

“If you continue to be this infuriating, I might find someone else who will,” Tommy mutters and shuffles a bit closer still.

Alfie continues, undeterred because he’s feeling quite pleased with himself right now thank you very much.“See, love, there’s only one thing that’s better than knowing you’re a generous and considerate lover,” he says and ignores Tommy’s annoyed groan. “Who can make their partner come their brains out several times in a single evening, and that’s knowing that you’re better than all the previous ones…”

“You’re fucking impossible” Tommy mutters into his chest, keeping his head firmly pressed against it while clinging to him. “Now shut up and let me sleep, or I will banish you to the sofa.”

Alfie scoffs, “Empty threats, love. You know better than to play cards like that.”

Tommy opens one eye and gives him a glare. Going against one of those would definitely be pushing his luck, so the best route now would be to stay quiet. But he does press a kiss against Tommy’s forehead. Which is met with another little huff.

Tommy is still smiling against his chest. He can tell.

Four

There are plenty of things about Tommy’s older brother that Alfie finds infuriating. Were he to make a list, it would most likely be impossible to complete: Arthur would find new ways to bother him while he was writing said list and constantly add to it. But somewhere at the top of that hypothetical list, he’d put the fact that Arthur Shelby has the worst possible timing for absolutely everything. From barging into Tommy’s office with some question just when Alfie has persuaded Tommy to take a little break from working to sit on his lap for just a tiny bit, to calling them at home in London (God knows how he got the fucking number) demanding to speak with Tommy about all sorts of irrelevant matters, usually once they’ve finally settled in for the evening.

So really, it should be no surprise that when Alfie steps into the Shelby household much later than he’d anticipated and passes the kitchen, he hears a familiar voice.

“Oi, Solomons, a word.”

Alfie stops in his tracks and groans because fuck, has Arthur just set up permanent shop in the fucking kitchen? Ready at any time to call people in and have various ‘chats’ with them about questions that are none of his business and yet somehow crucial for him to put his nose in.

And furthermore it’s fucking late and he’s had a hellish evening dealing with incompetent employees and a broken still, so all he wants to do now is go upstairs to Tommy. Pull him close and bury his nose in soft hair that smells faintly of soap and smoke...

“Unless you hadn’t noticed, I was actually on my way to something more important. Namely to a bed that has your brother in it,” he tells Arthur and can’t keep himself from adding: “See if he’s up for getting a bit of cock on this fine evening.“

Arthur chokes on his whiskey. And really he should’ve fucking expected an answer like that. But he still waves for him to sit down and bloody hell, Alfie figures that it’s better to just have it fucking over with. So he ambles over to the kitchen table, slumps down on a chair and leans back in it, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Alright, as I’m sure you can see, I’m here,” he says when Arthur just stares at him. “So fucking talk.”

Arthur promptly empties his whiskey glass and then refills it.

“I’ve been thinking-“

Alfie huffs out a laugh. “Oh watch out, you might hurt yourself.”

Arthur glares, clears his throat and leans back in his chair, mimicking Alfie’s pose. Puts on what is most likely supposed to be a serious face, takes a breath… and fuck, Alfie is seconds away from just getting up and leaving when he finally gets to the point and says, “What are your intentions with Tommy?”

It takes a while for Alfie to take this in, even though the buildup should’ve adequately prepared him for something this stupid.

“What?”

“What are your intentions with my little brother?” Arthur repeats, over annunciating every single word, as if that will clarify anything. My little brother… Arthur always adds that when he’s feeling particularly over protective. As if to further hammer home the point -mostly to himself probably- that he is indeed the older and wiser out of the two of them. That Tommy is his responsibility.

Alfie blinks. “Yeah, well if you really want to know, right now I intend to go upstairs and see if he’s still awake. And then possibly make him come his brains out a few times-“

Arthur’s face turns a darker shade of red and his moustache twitches in that absolutely hilarious way. His right hand clenches into a fist where it’s placed on the table. But he doesn’t lose it. Surprising, that.

“Which I really should prioritize right now so if we’re done here…” Alfie puts both palms on the table and makes a half-hearted effort to stand up but of-fucking- course Arthur won’t have that

“You know what I fucking mean,” he snaps.

“Well, dear Arthur, as it so happens I don’t actually know what you fucking mean so if you could fucking clarify…”

Arthur glares down at his whiskey. Moves the glass a bit to the right. Moves it back again… Alfie sinks deeper into his chair and sighs demonstratively.

“He loves you,” Arthur says, suddenly, still studying the glass. “Really… fucking loves you.”

Alfie decides to be quiet.

“Fucking hell I never thought that it- that it would actually go this far,” Arthur continues. “But he fucking loves you, more than- than I think he’s ever loved anyone or anything.”

Yeah and what on earth is happening now? It’s getting bloody uncomfortable, that’s what. So Alfie opens his mouth to fucking say something, but Arthur waves a hand dismissively and keeps talking.

“And the thing, the fucking thing is that now… Well, he wouldn’t fucking survive you leaving, alright? Almost fucking fell apart completely when you had that fight. And if you- if this isn’t fucking permanent in your eyes, then I…“ Arthur allows himself a moment of silence, probably because he discovers that Alfie won’t interrupt him. “It would fucking kill him,” he then finally says, without the tiniest bit of smile. Dead fucking serious.

And something about the tone… Alfie can’t bring himself to say something snide or sharp, but he doesn’t exactly have any other options either, so he just continues being silent.

“And, yeah I don’t know what to do with that fucking realization. Sure I can do the whole ‘If you ever hurt my brother I’ll hunt you down and fucking beat you to death with your own cane-spiel, but-” Arthur pauses again to breathe. “But that doesn’t really matter does it?”

Alfie sighs. “Fucking hell I’m not in the mood for this-“

He rubs his temples and realizes that a bit of sincerity is the only thing that will work here, even though he really is in no mood to be having conversations like this with Arthur.

He shoots a glare at the man in question. “What’s all this, eh, Arthur? Trying to catch up on 30 years of big-brother duties all of a sudden.”

Arthur ignores the remark and takes a swig of whiskey. Stares into the liquid again. “We just got him back, you know? We finally fucking got him back, and now I’m terrified that without you, he’d…”

He trails off and silence fills the kitchen.

“Nah, give your brother some credit,” Alfie says. “As much as I’d like to think that I have a magical cock that just… miraculously heals broken heads, Tommy’s done plenty of work to pull himself out of that pit he’s been in.”

Arthur sways forward and sets both forearms down on the table with a bang.

“Just give me a straight answer here,” he slurs, going a bit cross eyed as he watches Alfie. “Be honest with me here, between... two people, who just really fucking care about him alright?”

“You know that Tommy would fucking kill you if he found out you were having this conversation with me, right”

Arthur just keeps gazing at him with dim eyes, as if he didn’t even hear it.

Alfie sighs again. Fuck it.

“Alright, you want to hear what my fucking intentions are, do you?” He rests his forearms on the table and hunches forward, trying to catch Arthur’s eyes. “Even though you really have no fucking business knowing them. But I’ll fucking indulge you, alright? So here it goes, and you better fucking listen because I’ll only be saying this once: If we had lived in a world that was just a bit different… Or perhaps if Tommy had been a woman  and I hadn’t just been an old sodomite, yeah? Well, then I’d have asked to marry him long ago.” He stops staring at Arthur’s face- stares past his shoulder instead, at a wall. “Would’ve done it all… fancy and the like. Taken him to some nice place. Bought an ungodly expensive ring. The whole deal-” he clears his throat, suddenly realizing he’s said far too much. But surprisingly, Arthur doesn’t take the chance to laugh in his face or something of the sort. Instead he just sits there, staring down at the tabletop.  “That enough of an answer for you, eh, Arthur?” Alfie grunts when he finally can’t take the silence anymore. “Think you can get some peace of mind?”

Arthur opens his mouth, looks up, and his eyes drift to the doorway.

“Well, would you look at that. You’re talking, and the house is still standing. And no one is bleeding, from what I can see.”

The statement is finished off with a yawn and Alfie turns in his chair to see Tommy standing there in the doorway. He’s clad in only Alfie’s shirt and underwear, hair mussed from the pillow and with this soft, sleepy expression on his face that just makes Alfie’s heart skip a beat… But fuck how is it possible for him to walk so quietly? Alfie tries not to panic when he realizes that Tommy might’ve stood there for a very long time.

“Yeah, we’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” he says, feeling like his tongue is too big for his mouth. Tommy smiles and comes up to stand by his side. Alfie wraps an arm around his hips. Pulls him close

“Are you coming to bed soon?” he asks and leans into him a bit, soft and relaxed. Looks down at him through a fan of long, long, dark lashes. The way he is sometimes in the mornings after a good night’s sleep (and, if Alfie might add, a good and proper fuck before that).

“Yeah sure, if your crazy brother is quite finished with me, I’d very much like to go to bed.” Alfie tears his eyes away from Tommy long enough to look questioningly at Arthur. “Arthur here was just telling me about his secret dream of moving out into a hut in the forest to raise sheep for the rest of his days, and I told him to just go for it-“

Arthur sighs, as if the entire weight of the world was just dropped down onto his shoulders and gives Tommy a look.

“Really, Tommy, out of all the men you could’ve fucking picked, you just had to go with the most infuriating one?”

“Oh absolutely,” Tommy says solemnly. “It was very high up on my list of demands for possible partners-“

Alfie smirks. “Number one of course being that they must be above average both in stamina and in how well-endowed they are-“

“Number two: must be absolutely unbearable to be around,” Tommy fills him in.

“Fucks sake, you two. Absolutely fucking impossible,” Arthur mutters and looks almost pleadingly at Tommy when he adds, “Doesn’t it scare you that you’re gonna have to put up with this for the rest of your life?”

Alfie isn’t sure if Arthur fucking realizes how stupid it is, asking Tommy a question like that. But Tommy just keeps smiling.

“Not really, no,” he says, giving Alfie another look. “So… bedroom?”  The quirked eyebrow gets Alfie up and moving.

“Well, it’s been a nice little talk, this, Arthur. All around fucking brilliant and enlightening, just as all talks with you are, mate,” he says as he stands, his arm sliding up around Tommy’s waist to pull him closer. “But I think it’s time for me and Tommy to go upstairs and-“

Arthur’s frame seems to draw together into what can only be described as a full body cringe

“Don’t want to hear it!” And the fucker actually slams is hands over his ears. Tommy snorts and walks out of the kitchen with Alfie close behind.

In the hallway, he takes Alfie’s arm in a sudden uncharacteristic move for closeness. And Alfie wonders just how much of the conversation he heard. Can’t have been much, if the good mood is anything to go by. Only reaction Tommy could reasonably have to listening in on a conversation like that is either being pissed off or absolutely freaking out. And he’s doing neither. Could of course ask. Get it out in the open. But it feels unnecessary to start poking around in it, because Tommy looks so… at peace. Happy. And Alfie would be a fool to start asking questions that might ruin that. So he leaves it be. Over all, Alfie tries to not dwell on the whole conversation; not on his own words and not on whether Tommy was there to hear them or not. Just like he tries to not… lose himself in that fantasy. Because, well, saying it out loud just turned it all the more visceral and it’s sort of hard to ignore it now. As if just saying the words out loud made him realize it on a whole different level.

Realize that if things had been different, he would’ve---

But they’re not. So there’s no point in dwelling on it.

Then again, who’s to fucking decide what sort of questions he can and can’t ask Tommy, even if it would just be a symbolic kind of thing? Not like either of them pay much attention to what is right and proper in the eyes of the law in any other aspect. Why should this be any different?

“What are you thinking about?”

He realizes he’s been standing with his shirt unbuttoned halfway, just staring into the distance. Tommy is already in bed, all bundled up in the blankets and watching him with sleepy eyes.  

“Oh, nothing, love. Just the usual, eh?” Alfie mutters and finishes unbuttoning the shirt. “The weather, state of the English pound… things like that.”

Tommy yawns and sinks a bit deeper into the pillows.

“Well, if you want to do something besides sleeping tonight, you better think less and get undressed more. I’m already half asleep.”

“Oh would you look at that, love, a pig just fluttered by outside the window,” Alfie chuckles but puts some extra focus into getting his clothes off. Tommy lets out a snort that is most likely supposed to sound indignant, but when Alfie is finally down to his underwear and crawls into bed next to him, he’s all soft eyes and smiles again. And Alfie is tempted to ask what’s put him in such a good mood, but that is guaranteed to ruin it. So instead he just kisses him. And decides that all the thoughts the conversation with Arthur stirred up can wait till tomorrow.

Five

Arrow House -or whatever the fuck it’s called- is an enormous block of bricks. Question is if it could even be deemed a house, what with the size and everything. No, it’s not just a house, of course. It’s a whole fucking estate.

Alfie walks through yet another room that could possibly be a bedroom -guest or otherwise, and wonders who the fuck needs this many room.

But apparently, this is the kind of house people of their ‘stature’ should have. It’s what everyone keeps saying. Tommy too. So of course when the opportunity presented itself to buy the estate of one Lord Whatever-The-Fuck-His-Name-Was -who apparently fucked off permanently to one of the colonies for whatever reason- they at least had to take a look.

So now they’re here, wandering around this castle like structure and getting lost. Alfie hasn’t seen Tommy for several minutes, it’s quite possible that he’ll never find the exit again and he’s pretty sure he’s heard a minimum of five restless spirits.

It’s all around, not a great experience.

Alfie opens the door to the next room, finding it just as empty as the last one. It feels like the sheer size of the building is about to swallow him whole. He gazes out over the giant lawn that stretches before the house. And the vastness of that isn’t helping either.

He moves on to the next room, trying to ignore the way the echoes of his cane bounces off the walls.

That room is empty too, and now he’s seriously beginning to wonder where Tommy has gone.

“Tommy?” He stands stock still, straining his ears to hear a response.

“Alfie?” Ah, there it is. Seems like he’s far away though.

“Where are you?” he calls out again, moving in the supposed direction where Tommy’s voice came from. It takes him out into yet another corridor, with far too many doors. That doesn’t bode well.

“I’m not sure,” Tommy calls back and Alfie lets out a chuckle. “In… a room.”

“What can you see outside the window?” He starts opening doors, feeling increasingly like he’s part of a giant joke.

“Grass,” Tommy calls back, and despite the unhelpful nature of the response it still makes Alfie laugh. It sounds like he’s at the far end of the corridor somewhere, so he sets off in that direction. And of course he still has to try three different rooms that all look exactly the same before he finds Tommy, stood in what appears to have been the master bedroom, judging by the canopy bed that has been left there.

“There you are!”

Tommy turns away from the window and gives Alfie a faint smile.

“We’re gonna have to install… fucking phone lines or something between all these rooms if we’re gonna find each other,” Alfie states and walks up to him, standing to inspect the view. And yeah, granted it’s better than the dreary houses in Birmingham, but again, there’s something oddly… eerie over the giant fields of grass. Feels as empty and lifeless as the house. “But I suppose we’ll get used to it, eh? Having to spend a few minutes just looking for each other every time we’re separated. And we’ll have to plan things in advance too, seeing as it takes at least ten fucking minutes to walk from one end of the house to the other.”

Tommy hums and turns to face the interior of the room, inspecting the ceiling that sits high above them.

“Have you looked at the rest of the rooms on this end?” Alfie asks when the silences stretches on. Tommy shakes his head, which prompts him to put a hand on the small of his back.

“Well, how about we do that, then? And then, might I suggest we go out into the sunshine? Fucking freezing in here, innit?”

Tommy is quiet as they inspect the four remaining rooms in this wing, so Alfie fills the silence by talking about the amount of people they’ll need to hire just to keep this house in order. And making little suggestions on what could be done to the rooms to make them slightly less… ghostly. A word he doesn’t use of course, because saying things like that is bound to make the whole house feel even more eerie.

Tommy’s got a wrinkle between his eyebrows the entire time, and his jaw is clenched oddly tight. It’s not until they get back to the main entrance, and are stood on the staircase overlooking the grand hallway and front door, that he finally speaks.

“I don’t… like it.”

Alfie cuts himself off mid-ramble.

Tommy sounds incredulous. As if he can’t quite believe his own words.

“No?”

Tommy shakes his head and looks around; At the intricate wood panelling, the heavy oak floors and the thick velvet curtains that hang in front of the windows.

“Well, it’s hard to imagine living in it now, I suppose,” Alfie says to help him along. “Bet with some furnitures it’ll feel a bit more homely.”

A fucking lie if there ever was one.

Tommy shakes his head and sets off down the stairs, leaving Alfie to follow. Once they’re down in the hallway, Tommy looks around the room again.

“You do realise of course, sweetheart, that this is hardly the kind of house I’d want to live in either?”

“It’s not?”

“Now, love, when have I ever expressed that I’d like to live in a giant fucking ghost house that feels about as homely as an abandoned sanatorium?”

Tommy sighs and the tension finally creeps from his shoulders.

“Suppose it just… seemed like the next natural step.”

“Yeah, yeah because this is the kind of fucking house people with money live in, innit?” Alfie scoffs and taps his cane against an ornate fixture by a door. “Big gaudy things that require a whole squad of helpers and… cooks and fucking gardeners. And it’s still just as fucking lonely and miserable- I mean fucking look at it! Who needs all this fucking space? And it’s so fucking dark everywhere, even with all the windows”

He cuts himself off because Tommy’s got a sort of haunted look in his eyes.

“That about sums up why you’re not feeling it?” he asks, softer this time and Tommy shrugs a little.

“Maybe.”

Alfie walks up to the front door, resolute, and opens it. The sun streams into the hallway and a gust of wind blows in and ruffles Tommy’s hair. There, looks a whole lot better already. Alfie takes him by the hand and leads him out.

“I say fuck this house and whoever built it. Let’s go home

Tommy follows to the car without a word of protest.

Tommy isn’t too keen on looking at houses after that incident. So Alfie decides to hit pause on the whole thing for just a little while -sometimes he just needs a bit more time than other people to process things like this. But they do eventually look at another one, and that turns out -if possible- even worse. First off, it’s too far away from Birmingham. Then the estate agent tells them it was built by a Lord ‘What’s his name’(Alfie can’t be bothered to remember) who held a high position in the cavalry.

Tommy takes one look at the giant stone lions flanking the front door and then promptly gets back in the car.

Suffice to say, he’s not in a very good mood on the drive back towards Birmingham, quietly staring out the window and smoking one cigarette after the other. But the weather is nice, so when Alfie sees a fence bordering a large field that could possibly contain a horse or two -which could potentially cheer Tommy up- he pulls over and turns to his sulking companion.

“How about we take a walk, eh, love? We did make the drive out here after all.”

Surprisingly, Tommy isn’t hard to convince.

So they walk, taking a small gravel road that leads between two large meadows. And the sun is shining, a warm breeze rustles through the leaves, and although Tommy continues to quietly chain-smoke, the wrinkle between his eyebrow has smoothed out a bit.  

And sure enough, after walking for a bit they even pass a pasture where several horses are grazing. Predictably, Tommy lights up when one of them comes towards the fence, eager at the sight of two people who might just be there to give it a treat. The horse hangs its head over the fence and Tommy scratches it behind the ears. Were it someone else Alfie would suggest to stay far away from a strange horse, but he has yet to meet a single horse -known or unknown- that doesn’t like Tommy. And he’s quite pleased that this horse has decided to turn up.

The horse is disappointed when Tommy leaves (Alfie is the one who initiates it because otherwise they might be stuck here until nightfall). It neighs a complaint before realising that petting time is over, and turning to re-join the rest of the flock a little ways away.

Alfie meanwhile offers his arm to Tommy, who actually takes it as they continue the walk. And this time, Tommy even refrains from lighting another cigarette. It could of course just be that he’s finally run out.

The sun is beginning to set in the horizon, which Alfie only realises when he glances over at Tommy and is struck by how extraordinarily beautiful he is in this light. He’s just about to suggest that they turn back when he sees the sign. Or… calling it a sign is perhaps to use the word too liberally: it’s really just a wooden plank with painted on letters, speered into the ground by the edge of an moss covered stone wall.

‘For sale’ it just says. And then a telephone number. Alfie frowns.

“Is this how they fucking do it in the countryside? Just hang a homemade bloody sign up in the middle of nowhere advertising a sale of… whatever. How is anyone supposed to find it here?”  

But Tommy doesn’t appear to be listening. He’s let go of Alfie’s arm and walked up to the gate that is situated a bit further down on the wall, and is now standing there looking at something. Naturally Alfie has to see what is so interesting. And only a few steps along the road later, he sees the house, previously obscured by bushes.

He understands why Tommy is completely entranced by it, because it sure is something to look at. It’s large, but nothing compared to the last two monstrosities, just two stories and then what appears to be a large attic. Vines are growing up along the brick facade, and clinging around the green front door.

Alfie looks at it too. And then opens the gate and walks towards it.

“Alfie! Where are you going?”

“Just want to take a look, love.”

“That’s not how it works!”

“It is now!”

He gives the door three sharp knocks, just for good measure. As expected, there’s no answer. The door is locked however, and once it’s become clear no one is home, he begins inspecting the surroundings. There are no flowerpots or anything on the front steps, but by a barrel full of rainwater, there’s a watering can that somehow looks… suspicious.

Tommy’s steps are coming up the gravel path towards the house. “Alfie, let’s just leave before someone sees us.”

The key is, as expected, under the watering can.

Tommy looks absolutely mortified when he shows it to him

“Alfie, we can’t just go in,” he says with what honest to God sounds like a whine.  

“Oh, calm down, love. Very uncharacteristic for you, this behaviour.” Alfie unlocks the door and it swings open easily. “You’re usually quite unbothered by… well everything. Where’s your sense of adventure, eh?”

“I’m just sick of looking at houses,” Tommy grumbles.

Alfie goes inside.

“Hello?” he calls out, lest they scare someone to death. But it quickly becomes apparent that the house is indeed empty.

Tommy is still outside on the steps.

“Aren’t you coming in, love?” Alfie wonders with a grin as he pops his head out the door. Tommy demonstratively lights a cigarette and turns his back against him. “Suit yourself. I’ll be back in a moment,” he says and kisses his temple just for good measure, before venturing back into the house.  

Alife knows that no matter how hard he tries to deny it himself, heisprone to be a sentimental fool -Tommy’s words- so granted he might not be the best judge, but fuck if there’s not just something…about this house. Granted, the golden light of the sunset that cascades in through the large windows is of course showing it from its best side, but still…

The light spills across the hardwood floor and bounces off the walls with their white wallpaper, washing everything in golden tones. It becomes quite clear that no one has have lived there for a while, because a fine coating of dust covers everything. And still the house doesn’t feel eerie. More as if it’s sleeping, as odd as it might be to describe a house that way. The hallway takes him to a large living room with a fireplace, and huge windows that open up into the garden. He completely forgets to inspect the view though because he passed a staircase on his way in there and has to take a look at the upstairs quarters. Only a quick one, he promises himself -Tommy is bound to have become restless by now.

One look at the master bedroom though, and  Alfie decides that Tommy has to see this for himself. And if he’s not going to do it willingly, well then Alfie will just have to carry him.

But once he’s back downstairs and out the door again, he finds the front steps empty.

“Tommy?”

“I’m here.” The answer comes immediately, thank fuck (will Alfie ever stop being anxious the moment Tommy is out of his sight?) “In the kitchen.”

Alfie follows the voice to the back of the house, and does indeed find Tommy in a big, bright kitchen with pale green panelling on all the cupboards. He’s stood by an open back door, with coloured glass in its windowpane. The sun is shining through it, casting light in red and blue that dances across his face.

Alfie only then realises he’s been too engulfed by the interiors of the house to look at the garden at the back of it. Because that’s where the door leads, out into a big garden with a lawn, and a giant oak tree.

“There are roses,” Tommy says quietly.

Alfie can only hum. The evening air is thick with the scent of them as it wafts towards him in gentle gusts. For a while they just stand there in silence.

He thinks about it, wonders what the fucking odds are of stumbling on a house like this. Just because you decide to take a walk. Then again, sometimes things do just line up perfectly, don’t they? It does happen, as rare as it might be. You take a walk and find a house, your new business partner turns out to be the love of your life… Things like that.

“Think we better get going. It’s about to get dark.”

Alfie snaps out of his thoughts and blinks. Tommy takes his arm and pulls him back into the kitchen.

Once the door is locked and the key is safe back under the watering can, they begin making their way towards the car.

When they pass the sign, Alfie grabs it and tugs it straight out of the ground. Then continues walking. Tommy looks uncharacteristically appalled.  

“Alfie! You can’t just-“

“I’m just holding onto this for… safe keeping.”

Tommy shakes his head, but the lack of any more protests is approval enough for Alfie to carry the sign all the way back to the car and put it in the trunk.

And he’s fairly certain he catches Tommy smiling when he gets into the driver’s seat.

….

Alfie doesn’t call the number right away -granted he shouldn’t be calling at all until he’s hashed the whole thing out with Tommy- and that is yet to be done. The sign is now in the wardrobe (for safe keeping). On top of that, Alfie’s got the number written down in the only place he knows he won’t lose it (on the back of a photograph of Tommy that he keeps in his wallet. Which Tommy doesn’t have to know about)

But he sort of has another question at the forefront of his mind right now. One which has steadily become more and more obtrusive and that’s distracting him from the whole house business… It’s in fact taking up so much of the space in his brain that he finds himself unable to function. Back and forth it goes. Should he ask? Shouldn’t he?

It would be absolutely insane to ask.

But he desperately wants to, is the thing.

And it doesn’t hurt to just… see if he still has that box somewhere in the attic.  

He’s been keeping it there for years -unable to throw it out, but it’s too painful of a thing to have where he has to see it all the time. And one day when Tommy is out, he makes the rather uncomfortable climb up to the attic to search. Lo and behold, it seems like whoever is in charge of it all is working in his favour on this matter, because it’s the first fucking thing he finds. He carefully avoids the photos and other keepsakes, unwilling to face all of that right now. And he does find what he’s looking for -at the very bottom, carefully wrapped in thin, sheer paper. As it’s been for twenty-five odd years, ever since his uncle gave it to him.

“This was your mothers, She asked me to keep it safe. I know she wanted you to have it. So now it’s yours to keep safe.”

He’d asked what he was supposed to do with it. Because that’s the kind of questions kids ask. And his uncle told him that, well, at some point -if you’re lucky- you’ll meet someone who you want to give it to. Someone special.

“You’ll understand when you’re older.”

And sure enough, he did understand when he got older. But all that really led him to was the realisation that the ‘someone special’ his uncle had been referring to, well, Alfie wasn’t the kind of person who was meant to find one of those. Realised that quite quickly in fact. So what was the point of keeping the bloody thing? Just a reminder of all the things he’d never have, wasn’t it?

Still, couldn’t fucking throw it away, could he? What sort of son would he be if he’d done that? No, that was out of the question. So he’d put it in this box. And now he’s holding it in his hands again and it feels oddly small… Small and delicate and somehow still so incredibly heavy.

He’s sort of forgotten to breathe, so he tries to do that as he folds away paper and looks down at the contents.

Then he has to wipe his eyes because there’s a lot of fucking dust up here and it’s making them fucking water. Has to blink, just to get his vision clear enough to actually seethe thing properly.

It’d need some adjustments of course. But that’s easy enough to accomplish.

It wouldn’t hurt to just… bring it downstairs. Keep it there for a while. It doesn’t mean that he has to ask… It’s not like it’s a huge commitment to just bring it downstairs.

When he descends the ladder on unsteady legs, it’s in his inner pocket.

For safekeeping.

And if he should want to ask, well it’s easier to have it down here isn’t it?

Not that he’s planning to. Because it’d be an absolutely ridiculous thing to do.

But-

Well it can’t fucking hurt to have it close by, is the point.

If he would like to ask…

[moldisgoodforyou]

winter formal

warnings: cursing, smut (18+)

gif from @rafecameron​

wordcount: 2.1k

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“Christ.” Rafe breathed out as he watched Sophie come out the door, duffel bag in hand for the night’s stay. He let his eyes trail over her for a moment too long and she paused, folding her arms over her chest to cover herself up. “What, is it too much? A girl in Theta went to Delt’s formal last year and said this was the right amount of dressed up. Fuck, I can go change, just give me a moment -”

As she turned on her heel Rafe came to his senses and caught her forearm, tugging her back. “No, this is perfect. You’re perfect. You look incredible.” He cupped her face and pulled her in for a kiss that went on longer than he intended. She was bright red by the time she pulled away and smoothed her palms over the fabric of her dress. “You’re sure? I won’t stand out?”

“Oh you’ll stand out. In a good way, though.” Rafe assured her, grinning as he offered his arm to escort her to the car. She beamed and accepted. “Okay, good. I trust you.” He kept his hand on her thigh the whole drive, stealing several glances at every red light. When he lingered too long at a green light, Sophie flicked his arm. “Drive, Rafe. You’ve seen me in a dress before.”

He startled and looked back to the road. “Not one like that.”

“It’s just a blue dress, I don’t understand.”

“Just a blue dress, that makes you look extra gorgeous, dips just low enough to show you off, and this fucking slit up the side is going to drive me crazy.” He squeezed her leg for emphasis, fingers teasingly dancing up her thigh. She pushed his hand back and adjusted the fabric of her dress back over her leg. “Behave.”

“Always do, Soph.” He shot her a cheeky grin and she grinned back, skating her fingers across the nape of his neck. “When do I get to see you in your suit?”

“Ah, I have it in the back and figured I’d just change real quick at the hotel before. Didn’t want to wrinkle it.” He leaned his head back into her touch and let out a satisfied hum when she started playing with his hair. “Wait, you mean I could have done the same thing?” She scowled. “I got ready early for nothing.”

“Not for nothing. I’ll take every extra second of seeing you in that dress.”

“Not fair.” 

“Totally fair.” He countered. They checked in and made their way up to their room, Sophie making a mental note to befriend some of the girls downstairs that were already dressed up for the dinner before the dance. “I’ve never been invited to a formal like this, you know.” She stated, taking a seat on the bed. Rafe started changing, his back to her. “Yeah? I’m surprised, figured you’d been to a lot of these by now.” There was just a hint of jealousy in his tone. 

“I mean, I’ve been to the dances before, just, um, not the overnight ones.” She paused. “You know, there’s like an expectation...” 

He whirled around, only his dress pants on and his hair all messy from pulling his shirt over his head. “That’s not why I asked you. You know that? I want you to be here, as my girlfriend.” 

She laughed at his state of disarray. “Yeah, I know. Especially considering you forgot to ask me until two days ago.” She teased. He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning. “Sorry about that. Again. But seriously, I just wanted you to come and have fun and dance. No pressure. No matter what.” He promised, sweet as always. “I know, Rafe, it’s alright.” She reassured him, eyeing him over. “Put a shirt on. You’re distracting.” 

He instantly smirked, puffing up his chest and flexing his abs. “Yeah?” 

“Oh my god.” She threw a pillow at him. “We’ve wasted enough time already, get dressed. I don’t want to be late.” 

“We could be fashionably late.” He countered, catching the pillow in one hand and coming closer. He leaned down to kiss her but she ducked away, bracing a hand on his chest. “Soph, c’mon.” She laughed. “You’re gonna mess up my lipstick, I’ll kiss you all you want later. Get dressed.” 

“Is that a promise?” He kissed her temple quickly anyways. 

She rolled her eyes and pushed at him. “Bite me.” 

“Don’t tempt me.” He smirked, then went back to get dressed. Sophie just shook her head, watching him with a fond smile. Once he was ready to go, she stood and straightened out his tie and mussed up his hair just the way she liked it, then gave him a quick kiss. “Very handsome, Rafe Cameron.” 

__

After the dinner, they were first of a few out on the dance floor, eager to drink and dance and just enjoy themselves.

“Didn’t think you could dance.” Sophie teased him as he spun her out from him, a perpetual grin on his face. “I’ve had my practice.” He replied, pulling her back in close. Rafe didn’t let her go all night, either keeping her hand-in-hand or his hand on the small of her back. She rested her head on his chest, swaying with him as a slow song came on. 

“Fucking soft, Cameron.” A very drunk James teased, waltzing dramatically past the two of them with his girlfriend. Rafe just grinned and flipped him off, keeping Sophie close. “You’re ruining my rep, Soph.” She snorted. “You were the one that made me watch Clueless last week, I think your rep was already shot.” 

He scoffed and stepped back, hands on her waist. “It’s a great example of a modern adaptation of a classic novel! And you loved it!” 

“I know. Thank you for proving my point.” She grinned and reached up to kiss him. “I wouldn’t want you any other way.” He blushed and pulled her back into his chest, pressing his lips to her temple. “Shh.” 

Later in the night, the two were more than tipsy, sharing champagne and cocktails all night. The DJ played another slow song to close out the night and Rafe convinced Sophie to come back out and dance, even though she had ditched her heels an hour ago and at least half the boys and their dates had left the party a while ago. She stayed quiet as they danced, thoughtful. He caught her chin and tipped it up with a finger to catch her attention. “What’s on your mind, angel?” 

“You scare the shit out of me sometimes, you know?” 

“What? Why?” He widened his eyes, thoroughly confused. 

“Because.” She paused. “I don’t think I’ve ever cared about someone so much before.” 

He exhaled, wrapping her in a big hug. “Just gave me a heart attack for a moment there, Soph.” She laughed, pressing a kiss to his neck. “Sorry, wasn’t thinking. Does that...that doesn’t freak you out, does it?” 

“No, not at all. I feel the same.” He reassured her and kissed her forehead. “You’re my girl.” She beamed and rested her head on his chest again, swaying back and forth. When the lights came on and the music faded out, she let out a low whine. “Don’t wanna leave.” 

He laughed and squeezed her shoulders. “C’mon, you tired?” 

“A little.” She admitted. 

James came by them, arm looped around his girlfriend. “Hey, are you guys going out with us? We’re gonna catch an uber to some bar.” 

Rafe gave her a questioning glance and she raised her eyebrows back at him. He grinned. “We might catch up with you later.” James nodded, not oblivious to the situation, but decided not to tease purely because Sophie was right there. “Good deal, let me know.” They parted ways and Rafe and Sophie made their way up to the hotel room, hand in hand. 

When the door fell shut behind him, Rafe rocked back on his heels, giving her a cheeky grin. “Well? What do you want to do?” 

“Oh, shut up and get over here.” She tugged on his tie, pulling him close. He laughed and kissed her hard for the first time that night, not holding back. 

It was a matter of minutes before both their clothes were on the floor, leaving him on top of her on the bed, fingers working at her core. “More, Rafe.” She moaned, her hand tangled in his hair. He kissed her quickly before pushing her up the bed, gripping her thighs. Sophie whined at the loss, shortly, before he was flicking his tongue across her clit, two fingers curling inside of her. “Fuck.” She breathed out, letting her head drop back to the pillows. 

“You can come for me, baby.” He told her, speeding up his pace. It didn’t take long before she reached her high, tensing around his fingers and biting her lip hard. He worked her through it, rubbing gentle circles on her clit before she had to push his hand away. “Too much.” She mumbled. He laughed softly and came up to kiss her. “You look so fucking pretty like that.” 

“Alright, quit.” She shook her head, blushing. Rafe just grinned. “Can’t be shy on me now after all that.” She rolled her eyes and curled her hand around the back of his neck, trying to pull him closer. 

“Soph, angel, we’ve got a slight problem.” He breathed out, cheeks flushed just from watching her come. She tried her best to ignore the flutter in her chest from the nickname and propped herself up on her elbows. “If the problem is what I think it is, we can take care of that.”

“Ah. No.” He laughed a little and leaned over to kiss her, painfully aware of how hard he was in his boxers. “I don’t have a condom. I wasn’t thinking.” She raised her eyebrows and immediately slipped her hand in his boxers, enjoying his strangled groan in response. “Doesn’t seem like a problem to me.”

He could hardly think with her fingers wrapped around his cock. “Fuck - I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to -” He groaned when she tugged his boxers down his legs. “Fucking hell, okay.” Sophie laughed and pushed him back on the bed, taking a moment to eye him over before meeting his gaze. “Can I...?”

“God, yes.” He breathed out. “Anything.”

She jacked his cock a couple times, more experimental than anything, and raised her eyebrows at his strangled groan. “Okay?” 

“More than okay.” He reassured her quickly, willing himself not to come in two seconds just at her touch. Sophie leaned down and placed teasing kisses over his hip bones, up his thighs. When she kept avoiding him, Rafe gathered her hair aside. “Soph.” 

“Yeah?” 

“C’mon.”

She grinned, loving the power dynamic. “Are you gonna beg?” 

“Sophie, please.” 

She knew that was the closest she’d get with him and licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, tracing a vein. She took her time before taking him into her mouth fully, hands on his thighs to try and keep him from jerking. “Fuck, baby, so good.” He groaned again, letting his head fall back against the pillows. 

At his encouragement, she started bobbing up and down on his cock, using her hand after a moment. Rafe didn’t stop the continual praise, mumbling fuck and shit and so fucking good, Sophie. That only spurred her on and she kept going, humming around him and loving every time he’d groan in response. She stopped just before he was about to come and jerked him off with her hand instead, keeping her eyes locked on him the whole time. 

He dropped his head back onto the bed after, letting out a big sigh. “You’re incredible. Have I told you that?” She giggled and got up. “Might have told me once or twice.” 

“Where are you going?” He frowned, reaching for her. “Shower, real fast. Want to clean up before bed.” She told him, stepping away from his grip. His mood flipped instantly and he grinned. “Can I come?” 

“No, that sounds dangerous. You can shower after me.” She didn’t let him argue, heading into the bathroom without waiting for his response. 

After they had both showered and were back in bed, Rafe was about two seconds away from falling asleep with his arm wrapped around Sophie, her head on his chest. “You’re my favorite, you know that?” 

“Yeah? For real?” She mumbled, tracing patterns on his chest. 

“For real.” He paused, stumbling over his words. “Lo - um, I like you a lot, Soph. I mean it.” 

Sophie tensed just a little, just enough for him to notice. “Like you too. Night, Rafe. Sleep tight.” 

[merakiaes]

Be Strong For Me - Sansa Stark

Pairing: Sansa Stark x Lannister!reader, Sansa Stark x Tyrion Lannister (platonic), Tyrion Lannister x sister!reader, Jaime Lannister x sister!reader

Requested: No

Prompts: None

Warnings/notes: Cursing and death. After disliking Sansa for the whole show I’m finally beginning to like her so I just wanted to write something cute for her.

Wordcount: 2323

Description: You’re the youngest child of Tywin Lannister. You’ve been with Sansa from the start, the two of you having found comfort within each other during the hard times of your families’ conflict. 

You hated the North. 

Absolutely despised it. 

It was cold. And wet. And grey, And downright boring. 

You wouldn’t deny missing the southern weather if asked, and you were sure that everyone knew how you felt by now, having learned exactly when to not mess with you to avoid a horribly painful fate. 

But despite constantly being grumpy from freezing your tits off, you stayed, because you had fallen in love with Sansa Stark.

As she had you. 

Same-sex relationships weren’t very popular in the world you lived in, this everyone knew. But with the constant fighting between the great houses and the Dead getting closer, no one had the time nor energy to find it in themselves to care like they would back in the day. 

This allowing you to be open with your attraction toward each other. 

Some people still frowned, of course. But people would always find something to direct their anger to, so you didn’t really give a shit. But that was just how you were in general. 

Besides, the people closest to the two of you had accepted it without even blinking, most having seen it coming for a long time before you made it public. 

And even though you wouldn’t have cared if they didn’t like it, it made you feel better about the whole situation, seeing as Sansa did have a tendency to care about her loves ones’ opinions. 

You were sitting in yours and Sansa’s shared chambers, legs thrown over the edge of the desk in front of you as you read over the notes on the piece of paper laid out before you once more, feeling more frustrated by the minute. 

And as Sansa entered, this was the first thing she picked up on.

“You’re in a mood.” She acknowledged before proceeding to pull off her gloves and unclasp her fur cloak, hanging it on the door. 

“I’m not in a mood.” You muttered without looking up, chewing on your nails as your eyes ran over the parchment yet another time. 

”You’re tapping your thumb.” Sansa pointed out as she came to stand behind you. “You’re in a mood.”

You froze for a moment, stilling your thumb that was tapping on the armrest of the chair, muttering out a quiet. ”No.” 

Sansa snickered, putting her hands on your shoulders and starting to rub them slowly. “What’s wrong?”

You heaved a heavy sigh, slapping the paper onto the desk in annoyance, bringing your hand to rub your temples in an attempt to rid your head of its aching. 

“The Dragon Queen’s horse-loving madmen managed to set fire to a whole load of the poles for the trench.” You muttered. 

Sansa squeezed you. “So we make new ones. It’s just wood.”

“Yes, just wood.” You said. “Just wood that needs to be chopped, peeled, lathed and carved. It took long enough to prepare these ones.”

“Jon says we still have at least two days left to prepare, we’ll make it. Just take a breath.” Sansa comforted you, and although you appreciated it, you didn’t hear anything she said. 

“If one more thing goes wrong today, I might just ride back south to King’s Landing and join Cersei in sunbathing and drinking wine instead.”

“You know.” Sansa spoke up, amusement evident in her voice. ”You keep saying that, I’m starting to believe you’re not joking anymore.”

You turned to look up at her from your seat for the first time, giving her a teasing look. ”Who said I was to begin with?”

She snickered. “Just relax. We’ll make it in time, you just have to take a break and get your focus back.”

You snorted. “There’s nothing wrong with my focus, I’m just not overly fond of the fact that I won’t get the time to train now that I have to clean up after the Dothraki.”

“If you needed to train you could’ve just told me.” Sansa shook her head at you. “I could’ve put someone else in charge of the trench until you were able to get back.”

You moved your legs down from the desk, standing up to stand in front of her. “I didn’t want to disturb you. I know you’ve had even more than me on your plate these last few days.” You spoke, going to put your arms around her neck all while looking at her. 

Sansa followed your example, her arms coming to circle your shoulders only seconds later as she inspected your face, eyes trailing over every single detail and taking in your tired, heavy eyes and dry skin, chapped from being outside in the cold days out. 

“You’ve done more work around here than anyone else, yet you’re the only one who haven’t gotten any time off to train.” She let her forehead press against yours for a second, before she let her arms fall from your shoulders, coming to grab your hand instead. 

“Come on.” She spoke, dragging you over to the door where she put on her cloak and gloves again before opening the door and pulling you along outside. 

“I need to get back to the trench, Sansa.” You sighed as she dragged you by your hand, running a bare, rough hand over your face. 

“No.” She said simply. “We’re going to train. I’ll send someone else to help with the poles.”

You raised an eyebrow at her. “We? As in, WE, are training?”

Sansa glanced back at you, blushing slightly. “That is actually what I came to talk to you about.” She told you, now walking in a normal pace instead of dragging you along like some kind of dog. “I wondered if you could show me some simple fighting techniques.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You’re to be staying in the crypt, why would you need to fight?” 

“I don’t want to be useless.” She told you as she turned around to look at you, now having stopped  in her tracks. “I feel like I’m holding you and everyone else back by not being able to do anything other than sign letters and sew dresses.”

“That’s not true.” You said, hand coming to touch her cheek. “You’re one of the most useful people here, warrior or no.”

“I just want to be able to be strong for you.” She confessed, eyes pleading. 

You looked at her softly but sternly. ”You’re already so much stronger than you know.”

“Not like you.” She whispered, to which you frowned. 

”I’m not brave, Sansa.” You confessed, looking into her bright eyes. “I just forgot how to be scared. And the only time you can be brave is when you are.”

“I just want to be able to protect myself and the people in the crypt if something goes wrong.” She told you, pleading. “Please.” She grabbed your hands, shaking them slightly in a manner a child would her mother when asking for a new toy. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, admiring how she could be as bitter as a rotten apple to other people, but completely let her walls fall around you. 

“Fine.” You agreed finally, causing her to break into a proud smile. 

Together you walked off to the fighting grounds to grab the weapons you would be needing, before walking off to a more secluded area so that you could focus better, not wanting to slip up and hurt Sansa. 

“Like this?” Sansa asked as she raised the bow to the target you had drawn on a tree, nocking an arrow. 

“Keep both eyes open.” You corrected her mistake, watching as she did as told before letting the arrow go.

It hit the tree, but nowhere near the target. 

“How was that?” She asked, turning to you expectantly. 

You smiled, nodding. ”That was very good!”

”Be honest.” Sansa told you, causing your smile to falter slowly. ”That…was…bad? I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”

Sansa furrowed her eyebrows, sighing. ”I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

To this you rolled your eyes. ”It was never meant to be easy, you know. You’ve only been trying for half an hour, you don’t become a perfect archer in a time as short as that.”

She carefully bent down by the knees to put the bow back on the ground, walking over to the barrel you were currently leaning on. “I think I’m just going to watch, unless you want to train alone.”

“No, I’d like your company.” You shook your head, leaning up to give her a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing your own bow and walking to where she had been standing just then, getting to it without wasting any more time. 

The rest of the time passed by quickly. 

You had spent it with Sansa, Jaime and Tyrion, not all together, of course, seeing as Sansa wasn’t on the best terms with your oldest brother. 

But you understood, not being the happiest with him at the moment either. But at the end of the day, he was still your brother, and the fact that he had left Cersei to come North to offer his help, told you he was not the same man he had been the last time you had seen him. 

And that was enough for you to forgive his wrongs, however not enough to make you trust him, knowing fully well that he would go running back to his twin slash lover the second the battle was over, if he survived, that is. 

Said battle came quickly, leaving you were you were now, sending Tyrion and Sansa off into the crypt. 

Tyrion gave your attire a once over, eyes narrowing at the amounts of weapons you were carrying. ”Is that battle axe really necessary?” He asked you, causing you to look down at the weapon in question.

You gave him a look. ”A lady should always accessorize.”

Tyrion raised his eyebrows. “Yes, I do suppose that is what ladies do best.”

You rolled your eyes at his sexist comment, but didn’t get the opportunity to call him out as he continued. “I guess this is goodbye, hopefully just for a while. I do expect to see you again when it’s over, I would be greatly disappointed if I didn’t, seeing how much you’ve boasted about your fighting improvement since I arrived.”

You smiled gently at him, nodding. “I’ll be here. Don’t drink yourself to death.” You told him, bending down slightly to let him kiss you goodbye before he walked into the crypt. 

“Be careful.” Sansa told you as she hugged you. 

You closed your eyes briefly as you took in the feeling of her arms around you, breathing in the scent of her hair. “I’ll see you after. I promise.”

And with that, you left to let two knights of the Vale lock up the crypts, the three of you then running off to join the fight. 

Despite being good with a bow and sword, you had never actually been a part of a war. Well, not in the fighting part, at least. 

It was bloody, and confusing to say the least. Luckily, Jaime never left your side, which helped a great deal for you to not get lost and killed in the process. 

You had been fighting for what seemed like forever, when your ears suddenly picked up on the sound of screams coming from the crypts. 

Jaime noticed, too, and nodded to you. “Go!” He yelled, covering for you as you ran off. 

Reaching the door to the crypt, it was, of course, locked, and you would never be able to break it in. 

Which only left you one option. 

While being bored in the castle one day, you had stumbled upon a hidden pathway in the walls, and it turned out be going straight to the crypts. 

So this is where you went. Your chest heaved up and down as you ran, legs and lungs burning and heart jumping in your chest as you time after time managed to dodge death. 

Luckily, you were a quick runner, and managed to get into the castle without too much hustle, wasting no time in running to find the pathway. 

It was dark inside, leaving you to depend on nothing but your hands against the walls to know where you were going, but this didn’t stop you from running, and only a minute later, you had reached the crypt, pushing away the boulder in the way of the entrance and slipping yourself inside. 

Many women and children already laid dead on the ground, and you didn’t have time to look for Sansa or your brother as you immediately went to cut down wight after wight in the forms of dead members of House Stark. 

The screaming soon ceased as you ran at what you thought to be the last wight, striking it down with one single blow. 

Sansa and Tyrion and the rest of the people came out of their hiding spots slowly as the screaming stopped, their eyes finding you and watching as you wiped the edge of your sword on your leg, face dirty and bloody and hair falling out of your ponytail. 

Looking up and catching sight of Sansa and Tyrion coming out from behind Lyanna’s statue, you noticed Sansa opening her mouth to speak, however cutting herself short as you suddenly grabbed the axe from your side and threw it her way. 

Some of the people yelled out in fright as they watched the wight sneak up behind the Lady of Winterfell, and jumped in their spots as the axe quickly lodged itself into its skull, flinching when it fell to the ground with a thud. 

Tyrion and Sansa stared in shock as the axe had barely missed their heads. 

As you tried to recover from the exhaustion you were currently feeling, everything you could manage to get out was an out of breath: ”I told you the axe would come in handy.”, everyone breathing out in relief as their savior had arrived. 

Tagged: @edarene @anephemeralwoe @witch-of-letters @starkbelova @well-aint-that-strange @aquariusfangirl