#in our fuckin face. and then beyond those closed fuckin doors hes decided that our goals are his now

[angel---eater]

so my brother has apparently been on T for like idk, a couple months now. and im seriously fucking pissed about it because this is the same person who poisoned the fuckin well for me and alongside my mother shamed and provided roadblocks for me to get on T when i was still a fuckin teenager to the point where when i finally did get that call, i had to FUCKING DECLINE BECAUSE WE WERE MOVING OUT OF THE PROVINCE. so fuck you bro, no im not happy for you. stop living my fucking life and expecting me to be faun all over you when all youve done is make sure i stay in the dirt

[tinkabelle24]

To Build a Home

Chapter 26: If You Love Her... (TEASER)

A/N: I have a favour to ask you guys. At the end of this excerpt, there's a poll. I need your help deciding what Leo's next move will be. It'll make more sense in a moment, I promise. Enjoy! 😊

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[I'm not reading this shit. Be a man and pick up the fucking phone]

.

.

.

Leo sat, staring at his brother's text for what felt like hours, struggling to psych himself up enough to oblige. He'd anticipated this - no matter how sincere his written apology may be, Raph would never accept anything less than an in-person one.

Of course, Leo suspected part of that reason was so he'd be near enough to strangle...

Still, Raph deserved something.

With a tremulous breath, Leo finally pressed 'call', putting the shell-cell on speaker before bringing it to his lips.

The second ring barely sounded when the receiving line picked up. The leader braced himself for a barrage of insults and death threats, but none came. Only breathing...

After several long moments of this, Leo finally opened his mouth to speak-

"Why...?" Came Raph's quiet, gravelly voice, striking guilt through the eldest brother's heart - he'd been crying.

Leo failed to answer initially, unsure whether to ask for clarification - for fear of upsetting Raph further - or just assume the specific situation his brother was referring to. To his relief, he didn't end up having to do either.

"Why'd you do this to me...? How could you think this little of me? That I'd... I've nevah and will nevah... or-or was villifyin' me the only way you could justify to yourself the shit you've put us through? ... What the hell was your endgame, huh? Were you seriously hopin' she'd leave me for you?? How fuckin' little do'ya think of her-?!"

Leo winced at that. "R-Raph-"

"Y'know," Raph sniffled. "I'd planned on askin' Val to be my forever-"

A shuddered gasp forced its way past the leader's lips as he buried his face in his hand, the weight of those words settling over him, like an lead blanket...

No...

"I even got a ring made; forged it outta my old Sai... This weekend - tonight, actually - I was finally gonna give it to her... But'chu couldn't help yourself, could'ya? You just had to stick your nose where it didn't belong... and now, because of you, dear brothah, it seems I've lost... e-everything-"

"...Y-you broke-"

"We're on a break," Raph corrected, venom now dripping from his tongue. And if you value your life, I'd stay right where you are; cuddled up with daddy, like the little bitch you are. Cos, believe it or not, Val's angrier with you right now than I am."

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Before Leo could respond, he was met with deafening silence...

On the other end, Mikey levels Donnie a resolute look as they secretly listened in on their eldest brothers' conversation - followed promptly by the shattering of glass and plastic against the brickwork, then quiet, mournful sobbing - beyond Raph's closed and locked bedroom door.

"C'mon," Mikey finally muttered as he proceeded up the hallway, beckoning a puzzled Donnie to follow.

"What??" The purple-banded terrapin hissed, too near to the door to want to risk producing much sound. "Mikey...!"

His littlest brother was already halfway down the staircase, shell-cell to his ear. "We're getting our sister back."

@android-cap-007 @happymoonangel @miss-andromeda @mysticboombox @sketch-mer-6195 @jasminarts01 @obsessedftshit

[kindahoping4forever]

...Ready For It? // Ashton Irwin

Thank you to everyone who said they wanted to read this story, whether it was in the poll I posted 12 hours ago or when I first posted In My Dreams... You Should See The Things We Do back in June (!) - I actually started working on this not that long after I posted and while the skeleton concept stayed the same, everything else was kind of fluid until last month when I finally felt satisfied with it. As always, thank you to @cal-puddies​ for listening to me whine and obsess over every detail and for (virtually) slapping me upside the head every time I said I was going to just scrap it (and there were many times, trust.)

Note this is a sequel but I think there’s enough context within this piece that you’d be able to enjoy as a standalone if you haven’t read or forgot what happened during In My Dreams...

Warnings: Sexual tension, frustration and resolution. I couldn’t figure out how to do specific warnings without also spoiling the narrative (yes, really) so this is kind of a blanket fluffy smut warning. The sex is explicit in detail but not extreme in nature. ‘Tis a soft, dirty story you’re about to read. Also yes, Ash wears the mountain pants again and no, I will not apologize. 

Word Count: 10,555

Masterlist // Ko-Fi and New 2021 Taglist linked above

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

“I can’t say this is how I imagined getting you out of your clothes for the first time but after months of isolation, I’ll take what I can get,” you quip.

Ashton giggles as he peels off his button down shirt, leaving him in a classic white tank. “I can’t say anything about tonight has gone the way I imagined it would,” he confesses. “I’m sorry things have been kind of a bust.”

You try not to blatantly ogle his muscular build as you playfully jab, “You mean, you didn’t spend all that time longing for us to spend hours waiting outside a restaurant for a socially distant table only to be turned away because now it’s closing time and ending up having to eat drive thru burgers in the backseat of your car?”

“With ketchup dripping all over one of my best shirts? And you saving the day with a suspiciously convenient stain remover pen?” He riffs, passing his top to you.

“Exactly how I pictured it,” you shrug, dabbing at his shirt with the aforementioned magic pen.  “Shame, our fantasies tend to match up a lot better than this.”

You’d never thought much of long distance relationships and you especially never thought you’d find yourself in one with only a few miles separating you but 2020 had been full of surprises; getting to know Ash had turned out to be the silver lining in an otherwise terrible year. 

You’ve each reflected on it plenty and agreed it seems as if your connection was destined to see you both through this strange period. You met at the last party you were invited to before quarantine started, you ran into each other again at the last concert either of you got to attend. Your first date was also your final restaurant meal, the last time you went to a movie was with a group of mutual friends and you sat next to him, giggling like a teenager, intentionally brushing his fingers in the popcorn tub.

When the stay at home order was issued, it didn’t take long for you to check in with each other and while it wasn’t an easy time, you were grateful to build a bond with literally no outside influence. And now after countless texted inside jokes, heart to heart phone calls (and more than a few naughty ones), restrictions had been relaxed and you were finally able to reunite. Only the real world is proving to be a bit more complicated than either of you remember.

“You know, I’m not usually a ‘hop in the backseat on a first date’ kind of gal, but this is pretty fun,” you joke.

Ashton grins. “If it makes you feel any better, I think technically this is maybe our third or fourth date?”

“Anything pre-quarantine doesn’t count,” you shake your head insistently. “That was a lifetime ago, another world. I cook now, I go for walks, I do crosswords now. Whoever you went out with in The Before Times - I don’t know her.”

His loud laugh fills the car and the warmth of it overwhelms you; after months of hearing it through a speaker, you can’t believe you’re finally getting to witness it in person. 

"So if we’re starting over at square one, then what’s the explanation for that kiss you laid on me when I picked you up?” He teases.

“I’m a complex woman, I feel like you should know that by now,” you reply with a coy shrug, handing him his now stain free shirt.

The two of you finish your meals, chatting happily and making non-stop jokes about what a fail your date was. You’re relieved at how natural things are flowing; you knew there was undeniable chemistry but part of you was still nervous about getting used to being around each other - another person, even - again. But beyond the standard date jitters, things were comfortable and familiar.

Your anxiety briefly returns as he pulls the car into your driveway. Of course you want to invite him in, you’ve been waiting so long to invite him in but things just feel… off. You turn, ready to offer an apologetic goodnight but before you get a chance, he’s turning to look at you sheepishly.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but would you mind if we maybe called it a night?” He rushes out, nervously running a hand through his hair. You watch him, fascinated. You’re still not used to how long his hair got in quarantine and you’re definitely not used to seeing him bashful. “I know we joked about it and I appreciate you being cool about everything but I really did want to give you the night out you deserve… and that just didn’t happen. I’d like to try again.”

Your heart swells at his sincerity; he’d always been so genuine and open over the phone, but it’s almost overwhelming experiencing it while he’s looking into your eyes. “Have I never told you that ketchup stains are one of my biggest turn ons?” You tease, hoping to ease some of his obvious embarrassment. “Hey, we’ve waited this long, what’s a little bit longer?”

A little bit longer ends up being the following weekend. It turns out, coming up with romantic and yet responsibly distanced date ideas is harder than either of you thought. With you both having the luxury of working from home and generally not having to venture out unless absolutely necessary, you both decide you’re most comfortable with eliminating the public out of the equation as much as you can.

You settle on a short hike followed by a picnic and when you open your front door you realize just how unprepared you are for the concept of Morning Ash. You smile to yourself as you realize that he must have overslept as his face is still adorably puffy from sleeping, hair still wet from the shower. Yesterday’s five o’clock shadow is still present - he must have been running so late he had to forego his morning shave. The thought of waking up next to him looking like this pops into your mind, that soon you could be the reason he’s running late in the morning and your stomach actually drops.

You push your thoughts aside as you move to greet him with a hug; his cologne is prominent and obviously freshly sprayed and you think to yourself that you're excited to smell like him for the rest of the day.

“Got a surprise for you in the car,” he murmurs.

You’re in the middle of wondering how he makes even a simple white t-shirt look devastating when he opens the passenger door for you. Before you even climb in, you’re instantly greeted by the smell of fresh coffee and breakfast burritos and he chuckles at the way your face lights up. 

“Flowers seemed too formal for a morning date, I figured caffeine and grease was just as nice.” 

“I’ve never felt more seen by a partner,” you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a sweet, slow kiss. 

You start to pull away to get in the car but Ashton snakes his arms around you and draws you back in for a few more smooches. “Figure we should get as many of these in as we can now, those burritos are no joke,” he laughs.

It’s a bit of a drive to get to a hiking trail that seemed unlikely to be crowded but you don’t mind. After months of waiting to be in this man’s presence, the more time you can spend with him the better. The trip passes quickly, with the two of you basking in each other’s company, play-arguing over playlists and agreeing that “when this is all over” you should plan a road trip together.

“Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves,” he observes, pulling the car into the empty lot. He’s first out of the car and you hear a distinct “UGH” from him as soon as he steps out. He sees your puzzled look through the windshield as he walks around to your side to open your door. “I didn’t expect it to be so fuckin’ hot,” he explains.

You get out and instantly scrunch up your face as a gust of hot wind breezes over you. “Well, we did travel more inland, I guess it makes sense it’d be a little warmer,” you reason. 

You commiserate about the weather and then Ash starts gathering your things from the trunk of the car, taking non-essentials out of your backpacks since the heat is going to make your hike a lot less leisurely than planned. 

Despite the weather, the first portion of your hike is nice: you stroll and talk, enjoying the scenery and your time together. Ashton brought his camera with him and you catch him sneaking a few photos of you along the trail so you teasingly start snapping an excessive amount of pics of him using your phone.

As you get closer to the area you planned on stopping at for lunch, the heat starts getting more and more intense. The morning clouds have now dissipated and the sun is bright and unrelenting, causing the conversation to drag as you both start breathing a little more labored, focusing on getting to your stopping point as quickly as possible. It takes a lot longer than expected and by the time you reach your picnic spot, you’re both exhausted and covered in sweat.

You spread a blanket on the ground and immediately throw yourself on it, grateful for a chance to rest. You look up and see Ash peeling off his t-shirt and draping it over a rock in hopes it will dry before you have to head back.

Normally you’d be silently reprimanding yourself for staring at his bare flesh on display but truthfully all you’re thinking about is how much skin he’s exposing to the sun. “Think we left the sunscreen in the car,” you declare, sitting up to dig through your stuff. “As much as I’m enjoying the show, you’re gonna get fried if you don’t throw that back on.”

He sprawls out on the blanket next to you. “We’re shaded, it’ll be fine,” he insists, pulling his sweat-soaked hair back with a rubber band from his wrist.

The picnic is pleasant but far from the romantic adventure you’d envisioned. You’d hoped the two of you would be laughing under a tree, eating a delicious meal as an equally delicious breeze grazes your skin. The reality is the two of you sitting in silence because you’re so uncomfortable under the unforgiving sunshine, eating food that you would’ve preserved better had you known about the weather, as a hot wind scorches your skin. The part of you that had fantasized about sneaking in a heated makeout can’t get enough of the irony that this date is definitely heated, just not in the way it should’ve been.

With the peak temperature of the day still to come, you agree to call it and head for the car already; Ash puts his shirt back on and you notice him wincing as he moves his obviously sunburned skin, but you choose to say nothing.

The trek back is quiet, both of you physically drained and a bit mentally defeated at yet another date gone awry. At one point, you stop in a shaded area to catch your breath and you give him a quick kiss. “Had fun,” you say quietly. He offers you a soft smile in return.

The drive home is equally lowkey, the discontent and exhaustion of the day filling where there should be sexual tension. He knows the mood has deflated considerably so he doesn’t even ask you to come back to his, he just drives you home. 

The car pulls into your driveway and you turn to him. “Think we’re cursed or something?” Your voice is joking but he can detect the undertone of worry.

Ash gives you a bright smile that’s instantly a comfort. “Nah… maybe cursed with too much ambition and insufficient planning skills but I have no doubt this is exactly where I’m meant to be.” He reaches for your hand, interlacing your fingers and kissing your knuckles.

He walks you to your door and gives you a long kiss that almost has you reconsidering inviting him in. “We got this,” he whispers. 

You ruffle his hair. “I’ve also got aloe you can borrow for these sunburns, how are you even able to move?” You laugh, unlocking your door.

A few days pass before either of you broach the subject of another date; you’re finally the one to bring it up and you both agree on a simple dinner at home for the next night.

“Third time’s a charm, right?” You joke as he opens the door.

He draws you in for a slow kiss as you step inside. You murmur when you feel his facial hair brush against you; his beard is fuller than when you last saw him and you suspect he may have quit shaving simply based on the reaction you’d had to the look on your date. “Well, we’re already off to a good start, I’d say,” he comments against your lips.

You’ve only ever seen Ashton’s house in the background of your video chats and when he notices you looking around with fascination, he excitedly offers to give you a tour. You swear you can actually hear your heart going pitter patter as he proudly escorts you around, sharing funny memories about his friends involving each room or telling elaborate stories about different trinkets he owns. You can tell he’s missed entertaining people in his home and you’re so happy that you’re able to fill that void for him tonight.

You follow him to the kitchen. “Smells amazing, must be quite the dish,” you tease, knowing full well you sent him the “secret” recipe for your grandma’s spaghetti sauce the night before. He pokes at you and you giggle, “Anything I can do to help?”

“The groceries should be delivered any minute,” he answers, checking his phone. “There’s gloves and sanitizer wipes under the sink if you don’t mind taking care of that when it arrives.”

A few minutes later, you peck his cheek as you pass by to go outside and tend to your assignment. Ash nearly spirals when it’s discovered that the shopper made some substitutions without asking but you reassure him that dinner’s not ruined even if the sauce uses regular sugar instead of brown and will be poured over fettuccine noodles instead of spaghetti. 

“Not to jinx anything but I think this is our best first date yet,” you joke after dinner, getting out two coffee mugs from the cabinet he’d directed you to.

“All we had to do was eliminate the variables: other people, the weather, the outside world in general,” he ticks off the list on his fingers with a smile.

You hit the brew button on the coffeemaker and slide closer to where he stands loading the dishwasher. “Well. Just proves that all we really need is each other,” you muse, with a sweet smile. He grins at you, drying his hands so that he can cradle your face and kiss you. His hands are soft from the soap he just used and you sigh approvingly into his mouth as his thumb draws circles on your cheek.

That flirty but sweet tone continues as you move to the living room; you sit on the couch, drinking your coffee, chatting comfortably. You both keep finding reasons to scoot closer together, a thick layer of tension between you. You’d each talked a big game when sharing fantasies about what your first time might be like but now that it might be here, you’re surprised by the hazy combination of excitement and nerves you feel.

It’s hard to say who makes the first move: there’s a lull in the conversation and then suddenly, a kiss. Ashton’s hands quickly make their way into your hair and before long, things get heated and you find yourself climbing into his lap to straddle him. This was about as far as things had gotten between you pre-quarantine and it’s as glorious as you remember.

You roll your hips above him and he groans into the mark he was leaving on your neck; your shirt rides up with your movements and his fingers softly dance over the exposed skin. As you nibble along his jaw, his hands find their way up the back of your shirt and you shiver at his warmth. You put your hands on his wrists, guiding them up, letting him know it’s OK to take your shirt off; he does and you silently thank your past self for wearing one of your pretty bras tonight. 

“So beautiful, baby,” he breathes and then his mouth is back on yours, hands busy exploring the new skin on display for him. You shift your hips again and this time find yourself the one to groan, feeling him hard beneath you for the first time; you’ve spent a lot of time wondering what this would feel like and it’s more intoxicating than you ever could’ve imagined.

Ash lifts you off his lap and lays you back on the couch, peeling his own shirt off before moving to be on top of you. He kisses you hungrily and then makes his way down your body, the scratch of his beard deliciously teasing you, lips pecking over every inch of your neck before they attach to the tops of your breasts.

You pull him back up to your mouth and slide your hands down to unbuckle his belt. You brush over his length through his jeans and nearly gasp at the contact; you know he’s not even fully hard and he feels huge. This revelation has you getting impatient and you attempt to push his pants down. "Jesus dude, are these painted on or what?" You joke, struggling.

 "Hey, I could ask you the same thing," he retorts, running his hands along your ass to prove his point. With a goofy smile, he asks, "Should we pause and de-pants ourselves?" 

You laugh as you untangle yourself from his body and pull your pants off while he does the same. He eyes your matching lace lingerie and teases, "That’s some mighty fancy underwear you've got on there, Miss ‘Let’s Take The Pressure Off And Not Expect Anything To Happen Tomorrow Night’.”

You feel your cheeks warming at both his gawking attention and his implication you were hoping things would end up this way. You playfully fire back, "Maybe I dress like this all the time, you don't know me… or maybe I wanted to feel sexy for myself tonight." You try to pull him into a kiss but he pulls back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "Or maybe I'm really behind on laundry and I only have the nice stuff left," you say with a sheepish giggle. 

“That I believe,” he laughs delightedly. "Whatever the reason, you look fucking incredible.”

You intend to murmur a thanks but the way his kisses are currently being  peppered in between your breasts causes it to come out as a moan instead. His fingers toy with the closure of your bra and he looks at you to softly ask, “May I?”

You nod enthusiastically and close your eyes as his mouth acquaints itself with your bare breasts, your hands tangling in his hair. Your mouths find each other again, tongues familiarizing themselves with every detail of each other. You reach between your bodies and grip the tent in his underwear; you trace the shape of him through the material and he breaks your kiss to let out a strained moan. “God, I can’t wait to make you cum,” you murmur, a bit surprised by your own boldness.

You feel Ash breathe deeply, affected by your words. “Well, I’m afraid I have a strict ‘ladies first’ policy in this house, so I clearly need to get started,” he jokes, attempting to steady himself. “Bedroom?”

He helps you off the couch and you start to reach for your discarded clothes but he pulls you along, shaking his head. “You won’t be needing those for a while,” he grins.

You follow him to his room, impressing yourself with how steady on your feet you are, how calm you feel; your heart is racing but it’s from anticipation instead of uncertainty, which is unusual for you when you’re about to sleep with someone new. You tend to make these decisions impulsively, with a bit of a “fuck now, ask questions later” attitude. The fact that you’ve waited for this long to be with him and that you feel totally at ease, wandering through his upstairs hallway in just your panties, is the latest in a series of signs telling you that your feelings for Ashton are different.

You settle on the bed while he pauses in the doorway, fiddling with the dimmer on the light switch, determined to get it just right. He finally comes over and you don’t waste any time, climbing over to the edge of the bed to pull off his boxers. His cock springs free and you bite your lip, hoping you’re not actually drooling like you fear you might be.

“You good?” He goads you with a smug smile. During a couple of your video romps, you’d gotten yourself off with toys and he teased you about your selections, calling you a size queen. As you find yourself fascinated surveying the notable length and girth in front of you, you have to admit, he’s not wrong.

You silence his remarks by leaning forward and tentatively licking his tip, closing your eyes in satisfaction when you taste a drop of precum. You roll your tongue around the head, tracing every curve and ridge with your tongue. When you get comfortable enough to wrap your lips around him and slowly start taking him into your mouth, he quietly breathes your name, brushing your hair out of your face, and you feel like you could cum right then and there.

He senses your eagerness and lets you work for a bit longer before he gently pulls you off with a heavy sigh. "Ladies first, remember?" He rasps, flashing you a dazzling smile that would've made you weak even if he wasn't naked in front of you.

He gestures for you to lay back as he kneels at the edge of the bed, dragging his beard across your thighs before hooking his thumbs in your panties to slowly pull them off. You close your eyes, a blissful, close-mouthed smile decorating your face. Ash groans, gazing up at you. “Do you have any idea how many times I laid in this bed picturing what it’d be like to have you here like this?” He asks, raising himself up to kiss you passionately. “Better than I ever could’ve imagined.” 

His lips travel back down your body and you’re so caught up in how dreamy it is to finally feel him like this, you don’t notice he’s already made it back down your body and you cry out when his tongue licks a bold stripe up your center. You’re almost certain you feel him smile against you, proud of the reaction he’s achieved. 

You run your hands through his long hair, trying your best not to tug at it too much, although you suspect he might enjoy that. He alternates between soft, fluttering licks at you and long, intentional strokes, using every centimeter of his wide tongue. It’s overwhelming but you breathe deeply, trying to maintain control; it’s when he wraps his lips around your clit and starts sucking that you start writhing, your legs involuntarily closing in around his head and you tap at him to get his attention.

He immediately pulls back. “Too much?” He reassuringly squeezes your ankle, looking at you encouragingly. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart, wanna do what I can to make you feel good.”

You sit up on your arms, lightheaded from both pleasure and his care. “Ash, oh my god, it feels amazing,” you insist, reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. “I just… I really wanna cum with you in me... and I can’t always go for two… and it was feeling so good right now…”

Ashton leans up, pausing your nervous rambling with a sweet kiss. “Hey, it’s all good, I’m glad you told me,” he soothes. “Do you want to go ahead or do you need more time? We can do something else to get you ready. Your call.” 

You grin and guide his hand to run along your wet folds. “I think this qualifies as ready, don’t you?” 

“Alright, cheeky girl,” he teases, casually lifting his fingers from your wetness to his mouth, tasting you on them. “Still, there’s lube in the left nightstand if you want to get it out just in case.”

“Gentlemanly offer and a brag at the same time, I’m into it,” you laugh.

He giggles loudly, moving off the bed. “Gotta grab the condoms,” he explains, leaving the room.

You retrieve the bottle of lube like he suggested and tidy the bed up a little bit, adjusting the pillows to make yourself comfortable. He’s gone for what feels like a long time but you chalk it up to your excitement for what’s about to happen. You sit back, surveying the room, making mental notes about different things you want to ask him about later. Finally, you hear him call your name from down the hall and you curiously holler back at him.

He pops his head in the room, looking mildly panicked. “Please tell me you saw a box of condoms in the groceries you put away,” he inquires breathlessly.

Your heart sinks. “Um… no? I didn’t,” you take a steadying breath, bracing yourself for what seems like very bad news. “It was mostly food. And the napkins we used. Toothpaste I put in the bathroom. No condoms.”

Ash inhales sharply, nodding rapidly, which unsettles you; he comes to sit on the edge of the bed and drags his hands over his face and through his hair. “Well. This is just never gonna fucking happen, I guess,” he declares dramatically. You feel weirdly exposed now that the mood has shifted and you reach for a blanket to cover yourself with before you crawl over to him.

You rest your head on his shoulder, letting him know you’re there. He smiles sadly and strokes over your hair. “I’m so sorry, baby. I hadn’t dated in a while and then with lockdown… I didn’t know until yesterday what I had was expired so I tossed them and ordered some today… and they’re just… not here,” he says regretfully.

You chew your lip, evaluating how you should respond; you’re disappointed, obviously - very disappointed - but Ashton is clearly upset with himself and you don’t want to make him feel any worse. “I suppose it’d be irresponsible of me to suggest we ignore this road block by employing the old ‘spray and pray’ method?” You joke… at least you think you’re joking.

He snorts, turning to look at you with a smile on his face, which makes you feel better about things. “I’m sure you’re not serious but no, after all this time, after we finally had the perfect date, no, I’m not going to pull out and ‘spray and pray,’ he chuckles.

You smile back at him. “Well,” you start flirtatiously, “I meant it when I said I couldn’t wait to make you cum.” Your fingers dance along his bare thigh, travelling close to his softened cock. “We can still fool around, if you want.”

He looks at you fondly, squeezing your hand on his leg. “I really don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“Ash, as sweet as you are, this is an entirely selfish act on my part, I really just want you to moan for me,” you smirk, moving to sit back against the pillows. “Plus this is possibly the most turned on I’ve ever been and if I don’t get off soon, I might actually die.”

Grinning, he crawls up the bed and settles in next to you. “Well. Can’t have that, now can we?” He teases in a low voice, kissing you with an intoxicating restraint. “Got anything particular in mind?” He feels you sigh against him as he gets his mouth on your neck and his hand on your breast.

It takes you a second to find your voice again, still getting used to the novelty of being able to feel his touch. “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind getting my mouth back on you,” you confess with heavy breath. “Or we could just, you know, play with each other.” You slide your hand down to find his cock, lightly rubbing your fingertips up and down his shaft, feeling it start to rise for you again.

Ash groans and throws his arm around your shoulders, turning so that you’re cradled into his side. Your hand lazily drags over his length while he holds you, kissing you with a renewed intensity. The arm around you softly massages your shoulder while his free arm is exploring your body: palming your breasts, twirling your nipples, fingers caressing the rise and fall of your tummy. 

He breaks the kiss as his hand makes its way between your legs, tentatively brushing along your inner thigh, watching you closely as his fingers move to trace your lips and then your folds. He swirls through your wetness and then gently starts rubbing your clit; your hand instantly stills on him and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“This feel alright?” He asks, studying your face. 

You take your free hand and place it on his, encouraging him to apply more pressure. “So good, Ash,” you murmur, raising your mouth to his again, eager to have his affection completely enveloping you.

You resume your motion on his cock, stroking him firmly, listening for the hitches in his breath or gentle grunts to tell you that your instincts of how to please him are correct. You try to recall what you can from the months you spent watching him touch himself online; you vividly remember him twisting over the tip while he used his other hand to cradle his balls. You give it a try and he lets out a loud moan, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

The two of you familiarize yourselves with each other’s bodies, savoring the noises you’re pulling from each other because although it’s not the first time you’ve ever heard them, it’s the first time they’re being caused by you. 

Ashton’s fingers tease along your entrance and you can’t breathe out a “Please” fast enough; he slides two fingers inside and starts thrusting. He starts with a moderate pace but you’re so worked up, you’re bucking against his hand almost immediately, overwhelmed at the thought of some part of him finally inside you.

You try your best to keep jerking him off but it’d be an understatement to say you’ve become distracted as his fingers move in you; you whisper an apology as you let go of him, starting to lose control, digging your nails into his bicep, whining at how you can feel it flex from the way he’s working your body. 

Ash can’t get enough of how receptive you are to him so when you mutter out another “Sorry” upon realizing how red the skin around his snake tattoo is from you holding on to him, he squeezes your shoulder in reassurance. “Listen, you can scratch that thing clean off if it means I’m making you feel that good,” he teases, nipping at your neck. “Are you as close as it sounds like you are?”

You’re sure your cheeks must already be flushed but you still feel them warm up at the implication that he recognizes your noises from quarantine. You nod, chest heaving, trying to catch your breath.

"Do you need something different to help you finish or keep this up?" He asks, understanding in his eyes.

You groan and jump as his fingers hit your spot again. "Um, actually I think I’d like if you went back to just my clit."

He nods, following your instructions. He rubs careful circles, checking your face to see if he’s getting the pressure right. You start to tuck your face into Ashton’s chest to minimize your reactions but he tenderly pulls you back to lay with him, stroking his hand through your hair to soothe you as he feels you start to shake in his arms. “God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful like this,” he praises, sucking below your ear. “Let me hear you, baby, you always sound so good when you cum for me.”

His raspy affirmations work in perfect tandem with the vigorous movement of his fingers and you begin to unravel. You breathily cry out his name as your back rises off the bed and your hands fly out on either side of you, one gripping the sheets, the other grabbing for his arm again.

Your hips buck, riding the waves of pleasure surging through your body. Ash watches you carefully, continuing to work you until he detects a slight wince of overstimulation and he removes his hand, deciding to kiss you through the rest of your orgasm. 

Your body finally relaxes and while you’re definitely exhausted, you’re also eager to satisfy him in return. While he presses kisses over your face, whispering quiet praises as you settle, your hands move to explore his body again, one caressing at his chest and abs, the other taking hold of his cock, making good use of the precum he released while playing with you, starting to build momentum again.

He groans, closing his eyes, losing himself in your touch. You can't resist shifting slightly to travel down his body, pecking your way down his stomach, nibbling at his hips before moving your lips back to his cock. You suckle at the head and the throaty "Baby" you receive in return is already worth your trouble.

Ashton traces designs on your back while you suck him off; he constantly murmurs encouragement, which you appreciate because your heart is racing, this is the first time tonight you've felt truly nervous. You've always enjoyed giving head but you've fantasized about blowing Ash for so long you were slightly afraid it might not live up to expectations - for the both of you, since you'd shared many fantasies with him.

You try to pace yourself, not wanting to get greedy and take too much at once, using your hand to make up for what your mouth can't handle yet; every time you pull off to catch your breath and check in with him, he sweetly wipes at your mouth with his thumb and it's much cuter than it should be, considering the situation.

You bob along his shaft a few more times, fluttering your tongue along the underside, finding a particular vein you remember him paying special attention to. Your memory serves you correct and he emits a surprised whimper. He squeezes your shoulder a few times and you pull off curiously.

"Want your mouth on mine when I cum," he rasps.

You quickly reclaim your place laying in his arms, kissing him as requested. It’s just a few tugs until his breathing starts to stutter against your lips. "Fuck, yes, cum for me, Ash," you murmur, letting out a little moan yourself when you feel his cock throb in your hold.

Ash huffs out short belabored breaths as he moves his hand down to join yours, showing you how to work through his orgasm, adjusting slightly so that his cum shoots on to his own stomach instead of yours.

You lightly kiss him through it until he pulls your hand off of him, lacing his fingers in yours, squeezing briefly. You lay back in his arms, basking in the intimacy of the moment.

He pecks your forehead before he regrettably pulls away from you to gesture towards the tissue box on the bedside table. “Would you mind?”

You start to reach for it and then pause, deciding you’re comfortable enough to make a request. “Actually… could I…?” You trail off, raising your eyebrows as you steal a glance at his torso.  

Ashton chuckles out a surprised “OK” and then you’re quickly shuffling down his body to get your mouth on his cum covered skin. He breathes in sharply when he feels your warm breath on him and his stomach flutters under your tongue as you clean him up, blissfully humming as you discover his taste.

Your hair falls in your face and he brushes it out of the way, not wanting to miss a second of what you’re doing. When you’re finished, you sit up and daintily wipe your mouth with your fingertips. You catch a glimpse of Ash looking downright dazed, chest still heaving from his orgasm, eyes glazed over from watching you eagerly volunteer to lick up his release.

With the heat of the moment having passed, you start feeling slightly self-conscious about your boldness. “Was that over the top? I feel like that was too much for a first time, oh my god,” you laugh, hands covering your face nervously. “I just… on our calls, every time I would watch you cum, I would just… think about it…” You shake your head, surprised at your own behavior.

He laughs and reaches for you, kissing the top of your head as you lay against him. "Just the right amount of 'too much', trust me." His voice gets deeper as he leans in to whisper, “I’d thought about it too, for the record. As fuckin’ hot as I’d thought it’d be.”

You lay quietly wrapped up in him for a bit longer and when you move to get out of bed, he grabs your hand, squeezing it gently. “D’ya wanna stay tonight?” He asks, hazel eyes swimming with sweetness and sincerity. “I didn’t want to jinx it and get stuff for breakfast but I was thinking we could order in.”

You smile brightly, leaning in to peck his lips. “You can finally make me your famous coffee you’re always bragging about,” you tease.

“It’s disgusting, you’ll love it,” he grins, playfully pinching your ass as you get out of bed.

The next morning you wake up to the feeling of Ash climbing back into bed beside you. You open one eye and look him up and down suspiciously. “Where have you been?” You murmur.

He settles on his side, pulling you closer to him so your faces are inches from each other, at the edge of your respective pillows. “Ordered breakfast already, had to go unlock the front gate,” he explains, voice still thick with sleep. He strokes your hair and smiles at how you close your eyes, melting into his touch. “Sleep OK, baby?”

You feel your lips curl into a dreamy smile; you already knew you loved hearing him call you that but hearing it in his deep morning voice is fucking transcendent. “To be honest, it’s been so long since I slept next to someone, I wasn’t sure how it was gonna go at first,” you laugh, scooting closer. “You’re warm, though, which was nice.” 

“Well at least I have that going for me,” he jokes with a mock pout, which you promptly move in to kiss right off his face. You enjoy a sleepy, slow makeout for a few minutes and then he pulls away. 

He takes a deep breath before quietly saying, “Hey… I wanted to apologize for how I acted last night with the whole condom thing. I just got so frustrated because it seemed like we’d finally gotten it right… but that kind of negativity has no place in our relationship. Especially in a situation like that where you were feeling disappointed and vulnerable as well. So I’m sorry.”

“Ash,” you whisper softly. You take in the sight of him: long, dark curls darting out every which way from sleeping, scruffy beard you’re still certain he grew just for you, lips swollen from your kisses. His eyes are gorgeous as always but you can see the concern and remorse behind them and you feel like you can’t put him at ease soon enough. “You don’t have to apologize, it was disappointing and you don’t have to be Mr. Positivity 24/7 if you don’t feel like it. Not for me. I’d rather know how you’re really feeling.” 

“I guess I thought this would be easier. We’ve had so long to think about being together and to plan for it and it’s just been a constant let down,” he admits.

You chew your lip. “Well, listen. Last night still worked out? We still got to be intimate, I still got to experience waking up next to you. Sort of,” you tease. He cracks a smile and you couldn’t be more thankful. “But what you just said, maybe that’s part of the problem. Maybe because we had so much time to think about this, maybe we’ve built it up too much in our minds and we’re just setting ourselves up to be disappointed.”

He nods, mulling over your words. “Like the fantasy was important during lockdown but now it’s tripping us up. If we were in more normal circumstances, we would’ve just slept together without much thought.”

“You really think your game’s that good?” You joke and he pinches you in response. “You’re right, though, I haven’t thought this much about a first time since I was a virgin.”

“So we need to find a middle ground between this idealization we’ve invented and doing it just to get it over with,” he suggests.

“Exactly,” you peck his lips in encouragement. “At the end of the day, it’s just sex. I’ve been looking forward to being with you, not to some super romantic, candlelit lovemaking experience at the end of a dream date.” “Whenever it happens, it’ll be perfect because we’re perfect,” he smiles.

The two of you carry that mentality with you throughout the next couple weeks. You hang out, go on a couple dates and even end up having a spontaneous video sex session like old times. You still burn with desire nearly every time he’s near you but removing that looming pressure to set the mood really does help put you at ease with each other. You feel more connected than ever, like you’re able to focus on him now instead of the experience.

“The drive-ins are opened back up now,” Ashton mentions during your afternoon call. “Think you might wanna catch a movie tonight?”

“God, remember movies? That could be fun,” you agree.

“A buddy of mine went last weekend, opened up the hatchback, put a bunch of pillows down, made it nice and cozy. Thought I might ask if I could borrow his car… we could have a little picnic back there before the movie,” he proposes.

You smile to yourself, loving how excited he gets planning dates. “Better bring your comfiest hoodie for me to steal, we’re gonna get fuckin’ snuggly.”

Ash loves a good reveal so when he picks you up, he’s sure to walk you around the front of the car so you don’t peek in the back of the mini SUV. You have fun teasing him on the way there, adjusting the mirrors, exaggeratedly acting like you’re glancing over your shoulder; watching his eyes go wide and hearing his stern “Hey!” simply never gets old. 

Amused as he is by your game, Ashton knows how to tease you right back and when you arrive at the drive-in, before he gets out of the car to finish setting up, he offers you a kiss and a quiet warning of “Be good” that basically guarantees you’ll stay in your seat until he says otherwise.

After a few minutes, he finally calls you back there and you’re blown away at the elaborate transformation. He pops the hatchback up to reveal the back rows of seats have all been laid flat and a thin layer of memory foam lays across them, covered by piles and piles of blankets. Pillows of every shape and size adorn the setup, along with a small cooler and a tote of movie snacks. In the center of the makeshift bed is the pizza you picked up for dinner and two champagne flutes filled with your favorite soda.

“Ash,” you coo as you climb into the back of the car. “This is so fucking cute? You said your friend put some pillows down, not made an entire love nest back here.”

“Well, I may have embellished a little,” he chuckles modestly, following you inside. “One of our first hang outs was at a movie, so I thought our grand return should be special.” 

You grin as you serve pizza onto each of your plates. “That feels like that was a thousand years ago but I still remember the chill that ran down my spine every time you leaned over the armrest to whisper some comment about the movie.”

“Yeah? I remember being nervous because I couldn’t tell if you were aroused or annoyed, to be honest,” he laughs. 

“Oh it was definitely both at first. You talked a lot and I didn’t pay LA ticket prices to hear your commentary track,” you giggle, playfully shoving his shoulder as his jaw drops. “But then I decided I really liked how it felt to have you pay attention to me.”

“And of course what I was saying was clever and enlightening and added to your cinematic experience,” he adds on with a smirk.

You give him a tight-lipped smile, raising your eyebrows in exaggeratedly mocking agreement. He flicks your leg in response and you yelp, unable to keep from smiling at him. The two of you continue reminiscing and making easy conversation while you devour your pizza dinner. By the time you’re done, the sun is setting.

You lay back on the pillows you’ve propped up and watch intently as Ash gets rid of the pizza box at a nearby trash can. You’d both agreed that the dress code for tonight was ‘comfort’ and he went with a black t-shirt and an endearingly bizarre pair of lounge pants that feature a mountain landscape illustrated across the legs. Unsurprisingly, the t-shirt hugs his chest and biceps, drawing attention to the tattoos up and down his arms that you haven’t been able to keep your hands off of. What is surprising is how the loose pants still cling to his body in all the right ways - pulling across his thick thighs and ass, making you wonder if he’s keeping things in his pockets or if the bulging in front you’re seeing is all him. You squeeze your legs together, pleased that he’s almost back at the car, eager to feel him, even if it’s just for a snugged up movie date.

He flashes you a dazzling smile as he walks up to the car. “What’s got you all dreamy-eyed?” He teases, settling in next to you. You feel your breath hitch as he comfortably rests his hand on your bare thigh, toying with the hem of your lounge shorts, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Just happy to be here,” you shrug, leaning over to peck his bearded cheek.

He hums at your affection, leaning his head on your shoulder as he fiddles with his phone, pulling up a radio app so he can tune to the station that will be broadcasting the audio for your screen. “It’s kind of a deadzone out there, there’s only maybe 5 other cars,” he reports, reaching behind you to make sure the bluetooth speaker he’s connected to is on. “Even with all the distancing, we probably didn’t need to park all the way back here.”

“I like it… Gives the illusion you rented out the place just for me, makes me feel special,” you joke. He giggles and kisses your shoulder.

The first movie of your double feature starts a few minutes later and you couldn’t possibly enjoy it more. The two of you trade jokes and snacks; it’s all just so comfortable and lovely, unfiltered and natural.

During the intermission, you decide to get out and stretch a bit before the second film starts. You notice that when you feel Ashton’s eyes poring over you as you bend and twist, you only feel pride and desire, none of the nervousness or timidity you’d felt a few weeks ago.

Once the movie starts, you sit and try to patiently wait and see if he’s going to make a move but by the time the opening credits are over, you can’t help but advance things yourself. You scoot closer but his eyes remain trained on the screen; you decide to more explicitly ask for his attention by nuzzling your face into his neck, pressing a few light kisses behind his ear, scratching his beard with your nails. “I’m having a good time,” you whisper, feeling him grin under your touch. “This was such a great idea, I’m happy you suggested it.”

He slinks his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “I’m so glad you like it,” he beams at you. “It’s fun to be out in the world again but also still pretty much alone.”

“Alone enough to do this,” you lilt, leaning in to plant your lips on his. Your kiss is gentle but urgent and he reciprocates your energy, cupping your face with one hand and using the other to press you against him, murmuring when you slide your tongue into his mouth. Just when things start to get heated, one of you pulls back and warmly smiles at the other, as if you’re both excited for more but still wanting to appreciate what’s happening in this moment.

You don’t want to disrupt the makeout but you can’t fight the craving you have to feel more of him; you’re finally able to pull yourself away and you lay down on the bed, patting the spot next to you in what you hope is an alluring manner.

He moves closer and you close your eyes, ready to feel his touch. You’re startled to instead hear a grunt of frustration and the shifting of a leather seat. Your eyes snap open and you see him straining to reach into the front seat, trying to reach the keys in the ignition. You’re half a second away from asking what the hell he’s doing when you hear a distant beep and the hatchback slowly begins to close at the end of the cabin. 

He plops himself on the pillow next to you. “Thought we could use a little more privacy,” he explains, grabbing a handful of your ass and using it to pull you closer. “Just in case someone else out there thinks the movie is as boring as we did.”

You start to giggle at his remark but your laughter is interrupted by his lips returning to yours. You both let your mouths and hands do as they please, exploring and enjoying without hesitation and without expectation. You’ve just peeled off his shirt and are sucking a mark at his collarbone when you feel his hand slip up your shirt to palm your breast. You give a light bite to his skin as his fingers pull at your nipple; he groans as you breathily tell him, “You can do it harder.”

A few dozen kisses later, his hand is sliding down your stomach and past the waistband of your shorts. You pull out of his kiss to whine quietly as his long fingers brush through your wetness, only touching your clit incidentally before adding light pressure. 

“Good?” Ashton checks with a smile as your head lulls back and you grab onto him.

“Oh, you know… ‘s alright I guess,” you joke, your attempt at being casual undermined by the way you’re basically grinding into his hand. You let out a long moan and he quickly brings his mouth back down to yours in an attempt to silence it.

As his fingers and lips drive you wild, you find your own hands reaching for his pants and you sigh into his mouth when you feel his cock hard and ready for you. You run your fingers across the straining fabric, teasing him with one hand while the other works to loosen the drawstring. 

You dip your hand inside and grip his cock, choking back a moan when you feel how much he’s already leaked for you. The slickness helps you easily begin stroking him and you shift so you can study his face, wanting to see evidence of the pleasure you’re giving him. As your thumb swipes over his tip and your fingers firmly squeeze his length, Ash’s eyes flutter shut and he bites his lip, quietly muttering your name under his breath.

His fingers slip inside you and you gasp as pumps them in and out, dragging them against your walls, teasing your spot. It’s an intense moment when your eyes lock as his fingers work inside of you while yours glide up and down his cock, the two of you breathing heavy as you basically fuck each other without fucking.

“Ash…” You start, voice wavering.

“Yeah,” he answers in strained agreement. “Do you want --”

“Yes, yes I do. I brought --”

“So did I.”

You break apart from each other and reach for your belongings, chuckling as he pulls a handful of condoms from his backpack and tosses them onto the bed at the same time you pull some from your purse and add them to the pile.

“Well it’s good to know we’re both the kind of people who can learn from their mistakes,” he laughs, pulling you into a delighted kiss. 

An exciting energy fills the car as you both shift around, getting yourselves situated. Ashton pulls back a layer of blankets from the seats in case you want to cover up and bursts out laughing when he turns around to see you’ve already stripped off your shorts and panties and are sitting there pantsless and unbothered.

“We’re parked in the back, there’s barely anyone here and the windows are fogged up,” you shrug, grinning.

You find yourself captivated as you watch him kick his pants off and get up on his knees, wrapping a hand around his cock, pumping it a few times before rolling a condom on. This is really happening. Finally, really happening.

“C’mere,” he breathes, reaching for you. You crawl to him and he cradles your face, kissing you softly. You nibble at his lip as you pull away and the two of you can’t stop smiling.

You climb into his lap, sitting on his legs, staring into his eyes. “Ready?” He asks you, sweetly rubbing your thighs. 

You nod eagerly and lift yourself up to hover over his cock. He slicks the tip through your folds, stopping to tease over your clit a few times and then he’s watching your face as he presses against your entrance. 

Your mouth drops open as you start to take him. He's so thick the stretch is instant, breathtaking and everything you've been dreaming of. His fingers gingerly brush over your hip, encouraging you as you ease him further inside you, rocking up and down until you're impossibly full.

Ash wraps his arms around you, kissing you deeply, hands in your hair then running down your back, then squeezing your ass. You feel completely surrounded by him and it’s overwhelming in the best way. You break the kiss to quickly peel your t-shirt off and then you’re reattaching your lips to his, pressing your chest against his, needing to feel as much of his skin on yours as you possibly can.

“Yes, baby, fuck” he murmurs as you slowly begin to move on his cock. “Feel so fuckin’ perfect… better than I’ve been imagining.”

You respond with a series of whimpers, so caught up in the feeling of finally having him in you. You move cautiously, almost torturously slow until you adjust to his size and then you pick up the pace, his hands firmly gripping your ass, helping you along.

You don’t even have the end goal of an orgasm in mind, you just can’t get enough of the new sensations his cock is making you feel. You shift from rocking to bouncing on him, moaning loudly each time his length hits a new place inside you.

“Ash… your cock feels so fucking good,” you pant, riding him with increasing speed, losing yourself in it. “Can’t believe you’re finally filling me up, baby… fuck.”

Your movements are bordering on frantic when you feel Ashton lightly squeeze your hips, attempting to still them, gently breathing your name. You slow down and look at him inquisitively. The mixture of amusement, desire and warmth painting his face is enough to make your pounding heart skip a beat.

“Can I?” He softly asks. You nod and he carefully pulls out of you and lays you back against the pillows before settling over you. He pecks over your neck and face as he guides himself back inside you. “Think we owe it to ourselves to slow down and live in this for a while.”

He starts to push up so he can get to work but you stop him, tucking his long hair behind his ear, stroking your hand over his beard. “You’re right, just feels so good,” you grin. “Hard not to get carried away.”

Ashton kisses over your palm and begins leisurely moving his hips. He keeps a moderate pace, steady enough that you’re feeling consistent pleasure, feeling something building in your core, but not so hurried that you’re aching to reach the finish line. You hook your leg around his hip and when he pushes it slightly back towards you, he slides in deeper and his groan blends with yours to form possibly the most gorgeous sound you’ve ever heard.

“Jesus, baby… pussy’s takin’ me so well,” he praises, voice sounding more wrecked than you expected. “Such a pretty, giving pussy, baby… what a good girl.”

You shiver at his words, your hands running up and down his back, feeling his muscles flex as he moves above you; you slide your hands down to grab his ass, pulling him closer, willing him even deeper. Ash reaches between your bodies to find your clit, teasing it with just the right amount of pressure to make you moan. The snap of his hips has become slightly quicker and you can tell by his breathing that he’s getting close.

“Ash… so good, yes,” you mumble, reaching down to direct his hand in the pattern you need. He mimics your movements expertly and you start rocking your hips along with him, feeling the stirrings of your climax. “Fuck, like that… god, please.”

“Yeah?” He pants, watching your body start to tense. He takes his free hand and reaches for yours, lacing your fingers, squeezing encouragingly. “Been waiting so long to feel you cum around my cock… come on, baby, cum.”

The first pulse of your orgasm hits you so forcefully you’re shocked he doesn’t react to how hard you squeeze his hand. By the time the next one hits, you’re crying out in senseless mutters from how heavenly this moment feels, how his thick cock couldn’t fit more perfectly inside you as you tighten around it. The sensations feel like they might echo forever as you start to come back down, Ash continuing to move gently in you, reassuring you in a soft voice about how incredible you feel around him.

You pull him down to kiss him breathlessly, satisfied from your orgasm but still hungry for his affection, still needing him on you. “Want you to cum for me, babe,” you whisper. “Let me know how much you love being buried in this pussy.”

Your words drive Ashton’s thrusts to become frenzied as he growls your name, followed by a raspy string of curses. He lets out a deep groan as he fills the condom, rocking into you deep and slow as he works through his climax. His head drops to burrow into your neck and you shiver at how his beard prickles your overstimulated skin. You stroke through his curls, lightly damp with sweat, and whisper in his ear, “So good, Ash… so fuckin’ good.”

He plants an exhausted but sweet kiss on you, only breaking it for you both to whine as he pulls out of you; he carefully ties off the condom while you reach for some of the leftover napkins from dinner to clean yourself up. You sort through each other’s clothes, the two of you grinning like fools the entire time you’re getting dressed.

Ash leans back against the pillows and sighs loudly, gesturing for you to come lay with him. You crawl toward him, making a small detour over the front seat to press the release on the hatchback again. You settle against him as the door opens, the cool night air filling the car again, the long forgotten movie still being projected in the distance.

“Worth the wait?” You tease, giving him a toothy smile.

He holds you tight to his chest. “Fuckin’ hell, baby… as much as we built it up, think we still might’ve undersold it. Like. Goddamn.”

You hum in agreement, closing your eyes, enjoying the afterglow. “I’m glad we just kind of let it happen. That’s probably the best first time I’ve ever had. Definitely the most comfortable.”

“Same. Easy but still just… perfect,” he says dreamily.

You play with his fingers, chuckling, “I was so comfortable I almost asked you to cum on me until I remembered we were fucking in your friend’s car.”

“I mean, it was already questionable for us to have gotten fully naked in his car, we might as well have gone all out,” Ashton laughs loudly, squeezing your hand. “I think Cal had a suspicion this might happen, he left breath mints, condoms and Clorox wipes in the glove compartment.” 

You cackle. “No blacklight, though?”

He pinches your leg and leans in to drown your laughter with a kiss. You gaze at him for a beat, marvelling at how normal everything feels for once. You notice he’s looking at you with a familiar fire in his eyes and you swear even though you were naked with him just a few minutes ago, you actually feel butterflies in your stomach.

You raise your eyebrows at him expectantly and Ash smirks. “Was just thinkin’ it’s for the best anyways. The first time I cover you in cum I don’t want it to be in a dark backseat, I want to be able to see it.”

You quietly groan, a naughty glint in your eye to match his. You sit up and plant a heated kiss on him, pulling away to murmur, “Well. It’s still early… my place or yours?”

————-

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[radioduo]

before the storm || dsmp become human

notes + tag list: yeah :) finally here! @pindl3 @spider-shoes :]

no tws as far as i know, but don’t be afraid to ask me to tag something! :D writing is below the cut!

first // prev // next

Tubbo would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. He shifted Michael on his hip and boarded the rusting freighter with Tommy close behind, eyes darting around nervously. “There’s something in here, I know there is,” he murmured, more to himself than anything else. “The only question is where.” He waded through the ankle-deep water in the boat, grimacing at the feeling of his socks becoming soggy as he walked.

Michael made a joyful staticky noise as Tommy boarded the ship behind them, and Tubbo cringed as it echoed around them, bouncing off the metal and growing louder before fading away. “We have to be quiet, kiddo, okay?” he shushed the android, “We don’t know what’s in here.”

Tommy pulled his heavy jacket tighter around him. “This place is fuckin’ creepy, man, I don’t think we should be here,” he whispered. The teen flinched as a drop of water landed in his eye, and he grumbled to himself, irritated. “Let’s just turn around and go, Tubbo,” he said, urgently reaching to grab the white-haired boy’s sleeve. “Why are we even here?”

Tubbo pulled his arm from his friend's grip, careful not to disturb Michael. “The police are after us, Tommy, you know that. We can’t just stay in a motel for the rest of our lives, and we need to find a way to get to Canada,” he whispered back. “You haven’t forgotten that, have you?”

Tommy stayed silent, but Tubbo could tell the sloshing footsteps were heavier than before, and he was stomping. The duo followed the twisting hallway, trying every door and searching for the light that had been on previously, but no luck. “It has to be here somewhere, surely,” Tubbo muttered.

“But what is ‘it,’ Tubbo? What the hell could you possibly-”

“Found it!” The deviant whispered excitedly. “Here, take him,” Tubbo said, handing Michael to Tommy who stood, mouth agape and looking shocked. “If I could just- pry open this door,” he muttered under his breath, fingers slipping as he tried to push it inwards. Determination in his grip, he clutched the bright yellow handle and twisted, stifling a grunt of effort. At last, the half-rusted door began to swing open, and Tubbo squinted, attempting to adjust his eyes to the light that was suddenly illuminating the dingy walls and floor.

“What the h-” Tommy was about to shout at the deviant but was swiftly interrupted by a powerful voice.

“Who are you?”

The duo froze in their tracks, going silent. Michael, meanwhile, was making grabby hands at Tubbo from Tommy's arms, while the white-haired boy stood still as a statue, eyes glued to the stranger's silhouette.

X Answer

O Keep quiet

Tubbo grimaced as he mulled over the options in his head. The person already knew the three of them were there. No point in trying to hide in plain sight, he decided.

X Answer

“We’re peaceful,” he announced, unnerved and unmoving.

A hush fell over the group as the stranger's footsteps echoed off the metal floors, and a tall sandy-haired man came into view. Tubbo could see a faint blue light gleaming from under the hood on his head, and he felt a wave of relief rush through him as he realized it was an android. Tubbo pulled his hair back to show the other man his own LED as it flashed and blinked in the darkness. “We’re not here to do anything to you if you're worried about that,”

The other android seemed to relax a bit at those words, and he sighed with relief from beneath the mask he wore. “That might be true, but I haven't gotten an answer. Who are you?” His voice was kind, but something about his unrelenting green-eyed stare unsettled Tubbo. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“TU880, but my proper name is Tubbo,” he replied.

“TU880…” the taller android repeated. The look in the masked android's eyes told Tubbo the number was familiar to him, but why was beyond the younger deviant. “And what about them?” He asked, gaze flicking over to where Tommy stood clutching Michael protectively.

“I’m not tellin' you, bitch,” Tommy snapped. “Why do you want to know?”

Tubbo held back an exasperated groan. “That’s Tommy,” he answered. “The boy in his arms is my son, Michael.”

The masked android hummed in response. He said nothing for a moment, probably pondering his options, before finally saying, “My name is Dream. I’m the leader here at Jericho.” He pulled down his mask to address the trio, and Tubbo bit his lip to stifle a gasp. Beneath the black fabric was a long scar that ran diagonally from the bottom of his nose to his chin. He also had a shorter but equally as nasty one that snaked up from his jawbone to just below his eye. Both looked faded from time, but Tubbo could still tell that they’d been deep and harsh at one point.

“What the fuck is wrong with your face?” Tommy asked, adjusting Michael on his hip.

Tubbo turned to glare at him but was pleasantly surprised when he heard Dream laughing. “It’s just a few scars,” he explained through laughter. “Had a run-in with a few particularly angry deviants, but I’m fine,” he pulled his mask back up and turned to face the inside of the room. “What are you guys waiting for? Come on in.” He motioned for the trio to follow, and hesitantly, the three stepped out of the water and into the warm room.

When they first entered the main room, Tubbo noticed the clusters of deviants huddled around different fire pits that laid scattered around the room. Some looked as if they were brand new, barely a speck of dirt on their uniforms with LEDs still blinking the same Cyberlife blue as usual. Others looked a little worse for wear, torn clothes, or scars scattered across their faces. Near the back of the room was another open door, and if he squinted, Tubbo could see large crates that stored bio components and blue blood. He turned to ask Dream where they'd come from when he suddenly realized that the masked deviant had vanished. He glanced around, confused, but didn't catch a glimpse of the leader anywhere.

Tommy snapped his fingers in front of Tubbo's face to get his attention. “What the hell is this place?” He gently handed Michael back to Tubbo. “Is it safe here?”

Tubbo gratefully accepted his son back and ruffled the young android’s hair. “Do you really think there would be so many people here if it wasn’t?” he answered. Upon seeing Tommy’s skeptical look, he sighed. “Listen, you don’t have to like it here, but this might be the only hope I have at getting that train ticket north,” he looked down at Michael, who met his gaze with a smile. “You don't have to stay either,” he said, lowering his voice. "But I need to do this. For myself and Michael. For you, Tommy."

Tommy was quiet, the stillness weighing heavily on the two teens. The silence seemed to fall over the whole ship, the muffled chatter coming to a lull as the blond-haired boy wrestled with his thoughts.

The only sound was the crackling of the nearby fire, which roared and popped inside Tubbo's ears. "Okay," Tommy replied, seemingly reluctant. "I'll stay. But promise that we get that train ticket and get out of here as soon as possible."

Tubbo let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. It felt like the whole room had exhaled at once, a collective sigh of contentment. "Thank you, Tommy.

The blonde teen seemed to relax, closing his eyes as the tension left his shoulders. He pried off his coat and set it next to a fire pit as he focused back in on Tubbo and Michael. “Right, well, we should find that leader guy soon. Dream, innit? We’ll get you that ticket, Tubso.” He put a hand on the android’s shoulder with a grin. “You’ll be on your way north soon.”

[kri-babe]

A Bad Experience ᅳ Word Count: 2143 Summary: TAKE THE TRASH OUT. Warning: Implied Sexual Assault. Murder.

I was a pretty average kid. I wasn’t excessively popular, but I wasn’t an outcast either. I liked my silence and my own company, but I didn’t mind the company of my friends either. I had my own little pack of misfits that I ran with but we were average kids. We hung out where we could, but it wasn’t all that often between our classes or after school. My best friend in school was… sort of unorthodox, and a lot of people would have probably questioned it, and had my mom been any better, she would’ve told me to stay the fuck away from him.

And with good reason…

Mr. Rhodes was the school janitor; dressed persistently in a dark blue jumpsuit, and jingling whenever he walked because of the keys he carried on his belt. He was a fairly recluse guy, and the other kids thought he was pretty creepy. I think that was because of the fact that he had this weird tendency to turn up in random places, or… maybe it was the scars that mangled the side of his face. Hell, now that I think back on it, it could’ve even just been the vibe he put off. The smile that was just a little too friendly… the dark eyes that were just a little… too happy.

I guess I was a bad read of people…

But for whatever unfortunate reason, I liked Mr. Rhodes… I spoke to him regularly whenever I saw him, treated the guy like he was just another friend of mine. He was friendly enough, and he didn’t treat me like I was just some dumb fuckin’ kid in his way, wasting his time.

I never told him about it, but I think he put it together anyway - the problems back at home. He’d told me one day that I could hide out in the janitor’s closet if I ever needed a place away from everyone else. I hadn’t thought anything of it. Just a friendly gesture from a decent guy everyone overlooked because he had an unsavory job, and scars on his face.

I never once stopped to wonder why he was working at that school, why he was a janitor, and why the other kids avoided him… why the teachers avoided him. I never really thought beyond the idea that they were just mean. That maybe it was pack instinct that kept the flock together, safe in their numbers where the wolf couldn’t easily get to them.

No, I had to be the black sheep - the one that sticks out like a sore thumb, all the easier to snatch.

Too bad I didn’t see his fangs until he found me in the janitor’s closet one day. It’d been a shit day, mom was off her meds, had thrown away some of my stuff because it was ‘Satanic’. I didn’t want to put up with the teachers, nor the other kids, so I hunkered down in that little, cramped closet to just ride the day out. Where the fuck else was I going to go? Home? As if. If only I’d thought of some place else. If only I’d refused to trust him too.

He asked how long I’d been there, and I told him since school started. Guess that meant no one would notice one missing kid. The minute he closed the door, I felt something. A sinking brick in my gut and it only got worse when Mr. Rhodes knelt beside me, rubbed my back and told me that it’d all be okay. He could make it better. … I must’ve been twelve.

I stayed in the closet for the rest of the day. I was too scared to come out until well after school had ended….

I told her anyway. I knew she wouldn’t hear it, I knew she wouldn’t believe me. I knew she wouldn’t be on my side. But sometimes… just… sometimes. She was mom. I told her anyway. I felt the strike far before I had seen it coming.

“No son of mine will be an incubus, not in this house. God will excise this evil from you, you pustulant seductor.”

I still have scars from the whipping.

So… what now…

What do you do when your childhood fucking rapist comes into your place of work… and recognizes you…?

“Well, well,” Chimed a familiar, snake-like voice from just a few steps behind.

Alby blinked tiredly a few times, staring at the bleary image of the DVD cases in the cart and in his hands. As per the norm, the night had been slow - Blockbusters wasn’t really what it used to be, and the few customers he did get were often high as hell, and just looking for cheap movies to rent. He’d had maybe one other customer earlier that evening, before he’d set to putting back the returns.

Another blink, Alby slowly frowned as it pushed its way back to the surface - that rotten, fetid trauma he’d buried years ago. The boy straightened, blinking, and turned his head to peer over his shoulder as Rhodes stepped nearer, grinning just like the wolf he’d always been. Alby’s frown hardened as his good eye slowly cleared from the haze of the pot that clouded his head.

“If it isn’t little Alby… and you’ve grown up to be so handsome too… I’m honestly surprised to still see you around, kiddo… I was so sure your mother would be the end of you…” He reached closer, tilting Alby’s chin in his direction with a finger to better see the patch that was taped over the young man’s right eye. “Looks like she might still be,” He smirked, releasing him then, and instead, placed his hand over Alby’s back.

Broad, slender - he’d shot up like a beanstalk since they had last seen each other. Rhodes looked no different somehow, and Alby wasn’t sure how to take that. But the hand over his back summoned something from the depths of his being. A cold sweat broke out over his porcelain skin and Alby could feel a tremble push its way into his arms and fingers.

“So, how’s life been, kiddo…?” Alby frowned again, staring silently at Rhodes. Was this a joke? Was this guy just… playing fucking stupid? Like they’d always been buddy buddy? Like he fucking hadn’t raped him all those years ago? What was this? Was he trying to get cozy with him so he could do it again?

“What’s the matter, Alby~? Cat got your tongue?”

Rhodes’ hand slid lower, and whether that was to withdraw or not didn’t matter anymore when Alby suddenly exploded into motion with a left hook that connected directly with Rhodes’ jaw. He fell like a sack of bricks and Alby stood there in total silence once more - naught but the sound of his own shaky breathing to accompany him as he glared down at Rhodes’ body. He must have hit him just right… and certainly just hard enough, his knuckles protested about it.

Fuck…

What the fuck was he going to do with this fucker… call the police? But for what… a crime he’d committed twelve years ago? This was assault… and he was positive that his boss wasn’t going to be happy about his one fucking employee assaulting a customer…

The walkie-talkie on the back of Alby’s hip crackled and popped, and there it came: his boss’s chipper voice.

“Hey, Al, you there, bud~?”

He’d never seen the guy’s face, but his manager was always so weirdly happy… it was unsettling at best.

“Fuck…” Alby breathed, still shaking as he pulled the walkie-talkie off his belt and brought it to his lips, “Y-yeah, what’s up?” Just… be calm. Act normal. Everything was fine. He never even came into the store, and it was late. They were just between the shelves. No one would know.

“Hey, Al, there ya are! Listen, bud!” Popped the walkie.

“Remember what I told you about the trash? Those no-good lay-about trash guys don’t come by anymore, so there’s an incinerator in the basement of the building you can use to take out the trash! It’s pretty big, too, remember? So don’t fall in!”

Alby shook harder, blinking widely.

He was so sure he could hear something else just under his boss’s peppy voice. Something unnatural, just under the static, like worms in the dirt, whispering the earth’s secrets into his ears.

‘T̴̨̥̥̮̖̮̠̰̗͖̘̺͒̂̿̅͠Ā̴̫̖̬̜̝̟̠̥̿͌̃͐ͅK̶̟̻̤̼͇̭̻̗̖̖̮̤̺̺̅̐̐̊̀̅̔̈́͑̔̄̀̕̚͝ͅE̶͔̥̺̩̖͓̗̱͉̤̮̭̲͎̺̫̋͛̋̒̊̄̕ ̶̧̬̙͉̮̦̮̭̘͙͌̈́̈Ţ̶̨̛̛̫͖̙̫̺̘̰̘̳̮̘̞̊̏̅͊͋̍͂̄̅́̌͜͠͠͝ͅH̸̨̟͕͍̝̠̫̔̏̓͘͜͝Ě̶̡̨̨͖̫͚͇͍̰̻̪̭̰̃̈́́̈́̌̇̔̒̂̑́̉̿̓̑͘ͅ ̴̭̮͍̟̩̯̍̉͂̂̒͗̀̈́̐̒͘T̷͓̱͎͔̦̫̲̹̰̠̬̤̹͂R̸̡̹͔͓̳͎̣̗͙̥͙̱̯̂͊̌̽͗̈́̎̅̇͘͝A̴̳̳̤̣͐̑̄͘ͅS̷̩̲͖͒̏́̆̋Ḩ̶͔̥͉̪͓͉͇̠̭̓͋̀͒͘͜ ̸͇͎̘̮̀̊͐̈͋̽̑̇̔̄̋̈́͜͝͠Ơ̷̡̳̰̳͈͙̙̞͔̹̦͍͋̋̑̿̿͂̾̊̀̓͑̎̕̕͘̚U̶͔̩̘͖͖̗͚̞̲͓̬̟̥̺̅̓̂͑̏́͝͠͝T̸̺̹̤̮̆̓̽̈́̀̒̉͒̄̓̀̒͒͠,̶̪̤̯̖̩̯̘̾̒͊̇̂͂͗̑̂͋͋̈́̏͐̏͜͝ͅ ̶̡̡̣͓̠̭̫̟̫͕̔͆͋̈́̈́̌̊̓̈́̍͌̈́̔̐́̾͜͝A̵̲͓̝͚͚̖͖͙͉̹͍̗̦͙͔̭̞͑͊̃̓̿̑̓̑̾̃͊L̵̨͖̣̜̬̜̮̲̦̞̥̑̓͑̄͌̎̿͛̈́̈̂͝Ḇ̷̯͎̝̮̯͖͈̰͔̦͕̫̭̬̙̉̉̅ͅY̵̡̪̹̲͚̭͈̞͚̆̓͒̍̚͘͝͝͠.̷͚̳̘̜͙̺̝̳̌̀̔̑͒͗̐̌̈̃͌͝͠͝’

Alby swallowed, and looked back down at the body that lay sprawled across the carpeted flooring, lips working to form words he couldn’t find the ability to add noise to.

“Still there, Al!?” He jolted.

“Y-yeah, yeah, sorry, I’m here. I-I -- I’m on it, boss.” The walkie was hooked back onto his belt and Alby slowly exhaled.

Did he… know…? There was no fucking way this was coincidence. Trash day was usually at the end of the week… it was fucking Tuesday.

Could he do this…?

The basement door swung open, and Alby panted softly, grunting as he readjusted the man draped over his shoulder and slowly began down the steps into the blackness of the basement. There were lights, but the incinerator was often just bright enough that its orange glow was more than enough to light his way. That… beast of a machine. Steel and fire - the belly of a dragon, and the teeth to match.

When he first came to work here, there was no basement. There was no incinerator. There were large trash bins outside that the garbage men would occasionally come get, because the Blockbuster didn’t produce enough trash. Alby was the only employee. But after a time, he’d gotten word from his boss that the garbage men wouldn’t be stopping by anymore. They’d decided the place wasn’t worth the stop anymore, due to how infrequently they had to pick up from it.

The next day, there was a note about the basement. The incinerator. The shop never shut down. There were no construction workers. There was no equipment. No signs that the building had been added onto. It was just… there.

Every step thunked down the stairs as Alby disappeared down into that blackness, and squinted the moment he came around the corner to face the incinerator. It didn’t often make much noise… but it was growling now. Like a ravenous beast, it’s teeth clanking against its jaw in anticipation. Alby hesitated. He often wondered if this fucking thing was alive… the way it acted. But it was so easy for him to chalk it up to the fact that it was probably just funky machinery. He swallowed, and drew nearer, pulling the lever to open the jaws of this hellbeast which roared hungrily, releasing a burning belch of hot air into the basement. Alby squinted against the blast, and stared into those roaring flames.

The weight on his shoulder never felt heavier… and he wasn’t sure he could do this…

The guy… raped him but… this was murder, and no one would ever know…

But they never knew about his rape, either, did they…?

The walkie talkie crackled and popped, fuzzing loudly against the rumbling of the incinerator. There were no words that spilled through the static, and yet… he could hear that distant sound once again. As if there was just… too much interference, or the frequency wasn’t

quite right.

‘T̴̨̥̥̮̖̮̠̰̗͖̘̺͒̂̿̅͠Ā̴̫̖̬̜̝̟̠̥̿͌̃͐ͅK̶̟̻̤̼͇̭̻̗̖̖̮̤̺̺̅̐̐̊̀̅̔̈́͑̔̄̀̕̚͝ͅE̶͔̥̺̩̖͓̗̱͉̤̮̭̲͎̺̫̋͛̋̒̊̄̕ ̶̧̬̙͉̮̦̮̭̘͙͌̈́̈Ţ̶̨̛̛̫͖̙̫̺̘̰̘̳̮̘̞̊̏̅͊͋̍͂̄̅́̌͜͠͠͝ͅH̸̨̟͕͍̝̠̫̔̏̓͘͜͝Ě̶̡̨̨͖̫͚͇͍̰̻̪̭̰̃̈́́̈́̌̇̔̒̂̑́̉̿̓̑͘ͅ ̴̭̮͍̟̩̯̍̉͂̂̒͗̀̈́̐̒͘T̷͓̱͎͔̦̫̲̹̰̠̬̤̹͂R̸̡̹͔͓̳͎̣̗͙̥͙̱̯̂͊̌̽͗̈́̎̅̇͘͝A̴̳̳̤̣͐̑̄͘ͅS̷̩̲͖͒̏́̆̋Ḩ̶͔̥͉̪͓͉͇̠̭̓͋̀͒͘͜ ̸͇͎̘̮̀̊͐̈͋̽̑̇̔̄̋̈́͜͝͠Ơ̷̡̳̰̳͈͙̙̞͔̹̦͍͋̋̑̿̿͂̾̊̀̓͑̎̕̕͘̚U̶͔̩̘͖͖̗͚̞̲͓̬̟̥̺̅̓̂͑̏́͝͠͝T̸̺̹̤̮̆̓̽̈́̀̒̉͒̄̓̀̒͒͠,̶̪̤̯̖̩̯̘̾̒͊̇̂͂͗̑̂͋͋̈́̏͐̏͜͝ͅ ̶̡̡̣͓̠̭̫̟̫͕̔͆͋̈́̈́̌̊̓̈́̍͌̈́̔̐́̾͜͝A̵̲͓̝͚͚̖͖͙͉̹͍̗̦͙͔̭̞͑͊̃̓̿̑̓̑̾̃͊L̵̨͖̣̜̬̜̮̲̦̞̥̑̓͑̄͌̎̿͛̈́̈̂͝Ḇ̷̯͎̝̮̯͖͈̰͔̦͕̫̭̬̙̉̉̅ͅY̵̡̪̹̲͚̭͈̞͚̆̓͒̍̚͘͝͝͠.̷͚̳̘̜͙̺̝̳̌̀̔̑͒͗̐̌̈̃͌͝͠͝’

There it was again - that compulsion. This subtle… feeling. Like someone or something was just… gently pushing on his mind. On his thoughts. Compelling him, his wants. With a deep breath, and another soft grunt, Alby bounced the man from his shoulder, and into the blazing fires of the furnace, tossing in his legs to follow the body as embers shot out in every direction. He hadn’t even fully straightened when those steel jaws banged shut, and Alby threw a widened brown eye over the lever. Was it faulty…? Holy shit.

The blow to his jaw wasn’t enough to keep Rhodes down now… the screaming started shortly after, and Alby couldn’t take his eyes off the furnace as that blackening silhouette within thrashed and struggled frantically for an escape that would not be found.

It couldn’t have lasted for more than a few minutes… but those minutes felt like an eon, and Alby knew Rhodes suffered… too bad it was over so soon.

He stared quietly at the furnace as the roaring dulled to a soft, content rumble, fingers shaking by his thighs as he searched in vain for signs that Rhodes yet remained within that beast’s blazing belly.

The walkie talkie popped and fuzzed.

There were no clear words again… but he could have sworn that he heard the faintest sound of a voice… just… just out of range.

'̶̒̄͒͛̆̈́͐��̡͙̗͔̐̃̈́̎͝Ṋ̷̱̙̝̋́͐̑̀̋̐̽̽̐͂̆͐͝Ơ̵͔̒̀͋̋̌̂B̸̖̞̘̬̥̺͓̜̘̟͙̥̑̍͑́̍̈́̿̉̈́̽͑̏̀͘ͅO̸̡̬͉̞̱̪͚̭̼̬͉͊̉̆͛̍̒̊D̷̥̩̮̈̃̊̈́͂͊̔͑̈́̽̇͘̚ͅẎ̵̦̺̯̣̦̲̣̐̽̀͆̽̊̏̃ ̷̨͖̖̪̥̹̣̠͕͔̤͎͍̹̽̈̕͝L̵͔̜͇͖̮̰͙̤̰̠̂́̄̓̌̑̄̐̈̚͝Ǐ̸̗̭̬͍̬͙̗̘͔̃͝͠ͅK̸̙̼͙̳̹̫͚̩͎͍̈́ͅȄ̵͙̏̉̏͛̈̎̒̐̆̿Ş̴̧͙̤̳̤̅̿̈̉́̌͂̐̿͠͝͠͠ ̵̢͙͍̮̳̐̅͐̀͐̅͗͂̈́́̈́A̸̧͉̟̯͔̠̮͚̻̭͑̿͒̈̿̅͒͛͛̽͠ ̶̡̢̹̭͉̳̙̣̺̘̍͂́̏͝K̵̻͉̳̘͍̩̦͎̱̙̩̝͍͌͒̈́̐̃͘͜I̵̺̝̣̩͕̱̱͇͔̊̅͒D̴̨͔̘͎̝̫͕͙͚̥̦̘̙̳̀̔͑͘D̵͔̤͓̗͈͍͕̱͎̭̀Ī̴̱̲́̇͂̐͠Ē̶̡̪̅́̑̃͊̎̐́͐̂̊̓ ̵̨̱͎͚̣͖̘͓̻̬̗͖͊̊̉̇̽͑̓̋͊̾̾F̶̡̡͈̭̼͇͇͎̙̂̽͛͐͒̈́̅̉̎Ḭ̷̧̛̮̤̣͓̖͈̐̏̀̅͗́͘͝D̸̛̦͊D̸̡̢͈̞͙͔̜͖̖̮̻͖̒͆̆̒̆̿͋̌̒́̅̚͘͠Ļ̵̻̼͚̝́̿͋̚E̸̝͎͍͂̇̽̃͋͊̐͌͝͠ͅR̶̡̞͉̞̩̱̝͚̗͙̦̐́̉̑̈́̆̀͌̀̾̅͘ͅ'̷̨̧͔̣̜̺̪̰̜̦̮̖̺͑̂̃̊̔͂̈̀͐̃͜

[vangoddamn]

I’d like that

Request: could you possibly do one where y/n is also famous and she meets van at a festival or something and he had a crush on her so they end up hanging out and eventually going out together

Warnings- none, super fluffy 

The crowd was crazy, much bigger than you and your band were expecting. Reading festival had always been a goal, one of the ones you wanted to do well. The last couple of years you had performed it was hardly a crowd worth noticing, but now, it was the dream.

The set was amazing and after running of the stage, sweat dripping down your neck and heart pumping, you made your way to the green room. To your suprise your tour manager was already there chatting to two other guys on the sofa. Not thinking to much about it you and your best mate, who was also your drummer, made your way over to introduce yourselves.

"y/n, Lilly! You were great" his greeting was accompanied by a celebratory hug, before turning his attention to the two lads you'd completely forgot to take in, to buzzed from the set you just pulled off. "This is Van and Bondy, you know catfish and the bottlemen right?"

"oh my god! Fuckin hell, we're always listening to your stuff!" You shared a suprised look of excitement.

"Am not gonna lie, we have pet" Bondy grinned and to the left of him Van seemed to turn a bright shade of red, which obviously he pulled off. It wasn't hard for him, with his shades that framed his face and chain that hung loosely around his neck. His shirt was white, practical for the hot weather that burnt your fair skin, or at best gave you a scattered freckle.

Lilly soon got to work smug as she could persuading Bondy to meet our guitarist who was in awe of him. Of course Sam was but you knew it was a ploy, knowing that unfortunately Van was your type to say the least and you were sweating with nerves already. This was very sureal, and it was odd really, because as far as fame and popularity went you weren't all that far away from catfish's league now. But being face to face with them for the first time, Vans hand on the small of your back asking if you wanted a drink, it was alot for you.

The band had worked so hard up till now to get where you were. And honestly you had to pinch yourself every so often to make sure it was still not a dream. It had escilated quikly so meeting big name bands like this, meeting people you’d admired for decades was weird a best.

Van led you away from the green room and to a quieter place you hadn't been yet. Van was easy to talk to and he congratulated you on the performance you had just finished. Offering you a cigarette and spending the best part of the day smoking and catching beer refills when people strode past.

The golden sun caught in his hair and reflected off his chain that hung around his neck. The sweat that glistenend on his body was enough to swoon you completely and accompanied by the cigrettes that smelt a little dogdy, you were lost to the world. Your head resting on his legs, his hands in your hair as you both listened to the music in the distance as if you’d been mates for longer than four hours.

-----

5 months later

Turns out since meeting Van, you'd figured he definitely was your type. The only catch was he was clearly out of your league and well Van fucking McCann.

The two months after meeting were spent almost always together. Movie nights until it was 3am and pub crawls with the lads. It was the second month where things changed. The movie nights would turn into breakfasts until you had a favourite spot and nights out would most definetly end in each others arms in a weird sort of hungover mess. 

Your band mates found it hilarious as I imagine the lads would and there wasn’t a momnt where an innuendo wasn’t thrown at the both of you when you were suspicously close. You thought to yourself at that point it was never going to happen, especially with upcoming tours on both sides. So you ignored your feelings that may or not be there and decided to push them down.

Unfortunately things are never that simple.

“y/n” Van slurred down the line, his voice was gritty and sore and you couldn’t help but want to make him feel better. He was on a taxi from the airport after a long flight from his short America tour. 

“Hey, you sound ill, are you ok?” Your voice was lethargic too from a mix of christmas parties and gigs. Right after the festival run and the spottings of you and Catfish it was safe to say you were no longer ‘up and coming’.

“Yeah it’s just the come down, I was hoping we’d have one of those movie nights anyway,”  

“That sounds lovely, I’ll organize the pizza” You laughed down the phone before letting him go. 

It was nice to hear his voice agin, whilst he was on tour you both texted often but calls were rare. It was understandible, They were going to be busy, but it was deffinitely nice to hear him again and know he would be over soon.

You knew it was slightly odd how close you both had become, only knowing each other no more than six months. But things with Van were easy, he made life fun and happy and there was certainly a small part of you that was dissapointed you’d not known him longer. 

Once the pizza had arrived and you grabbed some beers, it wasn’t long till Van was knocking on the door. He came in and as soon as you saw him you felt simpathy and a mix of other emotions rise. He looked more tired than he sounded on the phone, if that’s possible. His face had dark bags under his eyes and his ahir was beyond greasy, you could tell he’d been on the road for over half a year on and off. 

You hugged him tightly telling him how much he was missed and lead him to your bedroom where everything was set up. After kicking off his shoes and snuggling down inbetween blankets and pillows, you finally started the movie going for a classic “hot fuzz”. Pizza was eaten and it was like normal, if there was such thing.

Half way through Van stopped the movie, adjusting himself behind you so that his arms were around your waste and his head nuzzled into your hair. You giggled as his breath tickled down your neck, trying to look at him but he was having none of it, moving his head to snuggle into your neck.

His breath was warm and his arms around you made you feel safe. It was a little cocoon you both had created, away from the rest of the world. Where we weren’t known and we didn’t have to pretend. 

Your thoughts were stopped abruptly once a kiss was carefully placed on your neck. The sensation sent your nerves into over drive as you swore your whole body was tingling and your head a mess of pure confusion as to what just happened. Before you could really evaluate what had just happened Van broke the silence between us.

“y/n” His whispers were as soft as his touch, as he moved you so you straddled him in his lap. Your eyes met for the first time in a while, and icy blues captured your every move. Every breath in was sharp as if you were caught outside in a snow storm and was hard on your lungs.

“Can I kiss you?” It was a question you’d never really been asked before, never mind by someone like Van. He was so careful and tender yet he had so much power over you it was hard to answer.

With that you linked your hands round his neck and pressed your forheads together. “I think I’d really like that” you smiled before you were wound up in a lazy but needy kiss, that was both a suprise and well awaited.

A/N: Hiya, I really hope I didn’t dissapoint, and I’m so sorry I’ve been away for a lil longer than I thought[if anyone cares]. Thank you so much for the request, it’s lovely to hear what you guys would like to read! Hope you are all well my loves xx Em

[dragonstoravens]

Babylon Vol. 1: Unflattering, Apologies

[ID: a blue patterned banner with text reading “BABYLON.” End ID.]

(Oh boy here comes some PLOT! Sorry not sorry in advance from me and @charlottedotexe-- this one’s a bit rough. No specific warnings, but this is where that “Trinity’s still lawful evil, remember?” bit comes in)

Taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @charlottedotexe @glitterandstarshine @rainbowcoloreddays @the-starlight-chills @erased-in-stone

General: @elywritesbydarkness @residentofthedisc @humour-and-hyperfocus @skyfirewrites @viawrites-andacts

14. Unflattering

    Azure really, truly, understood why some people were cruel. Sometimes a situation called for it. Sometimes it was necessary for a greater good. 

    But this time in particular, she did not understand.

    “Jericho!” came the greeting, the same one everyone here seemed to use for Trinity. “Great thinking on that deal with the alien colony a couple of months ago. I heard the margins from that conflict were positively astronomical.”

    “Oh, yes. That.” Trinity turned away from Azure to face the man who’d addressed him, leaving his face in a shadowed profile from where Azzy sat. His voice took on that casual calm it always did when he talked business, but this time something about the tone sent a shiver down her spine. “It wasn’t exactly a difficult decision. I believe they would have paid anything considering the reports I’d received on the state of their military, and it was simple to speak to marketing about making use of that desperation.” One corner of his lip twitched up. It wasn’t a smile. “I assume your firm saw some profits from the situation as well, Darcy? I don’t deserve all the credit, of course, but the Jerichos appreciate your recognition. As always.” The man clasped his hand with a professional nod and smile, a look of respect on his face. Trinity still wore that not-quite-smile, cold and calculating and… pleased. It looked alien to Azure. She hated it.

    Trinity heard a sudden whirling click as Azure’s communicator ejected itself from her neck, slamming a wall between her mind and his. She looked away and scratched at the base of her neck, then shoved her hand in her pocket. Most likely, that was her putting it away. She’d taken it out completely. Her jaw was clenched, the strong line even more stubborn than usual, and she refused to meet his eyes as she reached forward and grabbed a glass of water from a nearby tray. Her shoulders sparked dangerously, and she brushed them off.

    “I’ll be right back dear.” It did not sound like he was very dear. Her smile was nearly threatening as she pulled from his side as though he’d leave a residue if she did it too slowly. “I’ve got something to do quickly.”

    Trinity’s eyebrows pulled together. “...Of course.” She took off, barely waiting for him to finish his response. That was strange. He knew she didn’t like business talk, but she liked being alone at these events even less. And she didn’t seem anxious or upset, so she likely wasn’t running off to hide like he sometimes did. Whatever it was she was mad about, he was sure she’d come back and tell him what was going on soon enough. And he did still have business to attend to.

    It only took a few minutes for a slight bit of concern to start creeping in. His experience with Azure so far was one of nearly fatal honesty and very little patience, although she was getting better at putting up with these long, boring events. Usually, because she was talking to him about it through the comm, which was still blocked off. If something was wrong all she had to do was mention it and he’d leave, but instead she was off on her own, without even giving him a legitimate reason why. It only took a few minutes more for concern to become something a little easier for him to deal with-- or at least more familiar. Annoyance. It was not a good feeling. He was making at least a cursory attempt to shut it down when he saw Azure approaching  from across the room. 

    Even before she arrived at his side once more, he could see that whatever the problem was, it had yet to be solved. The set of her jaw wasn’t any softer, and the comm still wasn’t in, and her tone was cool whenever she spoke, but at least whatever that tight, threatening undertone was had diminished. She leaned against his arm, body stiff and movements bordering on mechanical. Where she’d normally be hanging from his arm, a lounge-singer’s grace with that distinctly Azure slouch, she was instead standing almost primly beside him. It bordered on prudish. Someone else approached her, a woman hell bent on asking where she’d gotten her shoes from, and her friendly demeanor returned. 

    “Oh, they’re MiZara originals, only ones of their kind. I can take your card, he’s always willin’ to hear out a custom request.”

    The two chatted amiably for a moment, a card was exchanged, and Azure returned to her sour expression not moments after her conversation partner vanished into the crowd. “Sorry about disappearin’, I had a couple issues with my cybernetics to work out.” A bold faced lie, her cybernetics never had issues she needed to fix immediately like that. They were well crafted and carefully maintained, and they both knew it. The annoyance was back, despite his best efforts. 

    “I see. Do you need to leave? To… fix them further?” Without really meaning to, he matched her stiffness, the cool calm he so often used when speaking to strangers turned back on her in a way it hadn’t been since their first meeting. He would give her an opening, he decided. If she didn’t take it, then clearly she didn’t plan to give him an honest answer about any of this, and he would leave it alone. The idea made his skin crawl, an unpleasant boiling in his blood. God, he hoped she would take it-- though he wasn’t sure even that would satisfy his frustration now. He tapped a foot, watching her for a response.

    Azure looked around, looking for any more of his business partners trying to ask him questions or congratulating him on further profiteering of a disgusting caliber. “If you’re done for the evenin’, I think that’d be best. I’m not sure dancin’ is really in the cards for me this time around.” Her shoulders relaxed just a touch. Relief, maybe. 

    “I see. In that case, we’ll leave.” He turned on a heel, heading for the exit with the kind of stride that made people get out of his way without a single thought. With the icy silence between the two of them, the air seemed almost colder in their wake as they passed unimpeded through the ballroom and out into the night. Trinity had the car door open for her as almost an automatic response, but he didn’t wait for her to get in, walking around to the other side and opening his own door to enter the car at nearly the same time she did. As soon as both doors were closed, he fixed her with those horribly cold green eyes. In the calmest voice he could manage, he said, “Would you like to tell me what that was really about?”

    Her eyes widened, shock in their depths, and then that shock gave way to a churning anger. An arc of electricity jumped from her left shoulder to her right hand, and she looked about two seconds away from baring her teeth like a wolf about to strike. “Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t light into you in a ballroom full of people. Please, remind me to clock you the way I’d like to the next time you think it’s a dandy idea to exploit the sufferin’ of an entire colony.” The snarl to her voice was foreign, unfamiliar. “Really, I’d be so pleased to cause that much embarrassment on the spot.”

    His eyebrows shot up. It was a valid reason to wait, but that wasn’t exactly first in his mind right now. Despite all the time he’d spent cultivating a perfect, untouchable exterior, it was all he could do to hold onto it now. Anger pushed itself into place over hurt as her words struck home, and over it all he struggled to keep calm. Perfect calm, the mirror-still surface of a pond, freezing into a bitter cold fractal shield. It had always protected him before.  “Azure, I have a job and I do it,” he snapped, the words unfeeling to the point of sounding nearly derisive. Worse-- uncaring. “I never expected you to like it, but I thought from our first meeting onwards that you understood it. If I misled you into thinking I’m some kind of saint, my fucking apologies. You know I’m climbing a ladder, and this kind of work is a rung.”

    “Oh don’t fuckin’ start in on that train of thought, I read about that fuckin’ deal on my little walk to clear my head and save you the embarrassment of becomin’ a barbecue.” She glared at him, scoffing. “That was a colony tryin’ to fight for its right to survive, and you would have done very well for yourself even at half that cost. I’ve seen the schematics for those warheads, asshole, I helped you price them.” Sparks continued to shoot off of her and she moved away as far away from him as she could. She was mad, but she didn’t want him to catch fire quite yet. “I’m disappointed in you. That deal wasn’t goin’ to do anythin’ extra for you on your way up your ladder. It was cruel, and unnecessary, and I know you know it because you’re not a fuckin’ idiot. You disgust me right now.” She looked upset now, sad in a way he hadn’t seen before. Her shoulders slumped, her jaw relaxed, and her brows knit together. “All those people need that funding for things beyond just a war. They need it for food and to recover from the hell they’re goin’ through. You’ve sentenced a nation to possibly decades of poverty just because you could.”

    Trinity drew in a sharp breath, and there was a moment of something too fiercely charged to be rightly called ‘silence,’ as the dangerously climbing hum of electricity buzzed louder and Trinity’s shoulders drew back with the minute slowness of an assassin silently cocking a gun. Any moment now, Azure’s control would slip and explode. Any moment now, Trinity’s enraged, haughty, emptiness would freeze him to the core and shatter. Any moment…

    But just as it seemed the space between them would tear in two if it stretched a second longer, Trinity’s mask slipped, abruptly, and fell away. His face beneath was blank-- a completely different blankness than the uncaring calm he’d worn almost all night. This was naked, raw, an exposed nerve. This looked more like he’d gone catatonic, or perhaps been smacked in the back of the head by a brick. In the moonlight, his face was deathly pale. 

    Of course he’d thought of that. He’d known it from the beginning. And he’d been taught to ignore it, to believe people he didn’t know were barely people at all. No-- he had taught himself to ignore it. He’d always said that no matter who he worked for or with, he would remain himself, Trinity, not just a Jericho or a pawn of Fate. But when it came down to it, he’d let that learned cruelty override his own sense of purpose. He thought, for the first time since he’d made that deal, of who he was climbing this ladder for. She would be disgusted, too. And she hadn’t even crossed his mind when the opportunity had been handed to him on a silver platter. Silence stretched once more, but this time there was a give to it. Into that silence, Azure spoke once more.

    “I don’t want to watch you lose your whole soul, Hotshot. Or at least what’s left of it, after these bloodsuckers have their fill and you finally reach whatever the top of that ladder is.” She looked out the window. Her hands were still sparking, the little lights landing in her lap and petering out. “Your line of work is tough, ethically speakin’, and you have ambition in spades, and those aren’t necessarily bad things on their own given the circumstances. But I know for a fact that the guy who made that deal is not the one I made good enough friends with to be his date at big fancy events regularly enough to know the difference between wine glasses now. That guy is actually worth the time. I’m not sayin’ you have to be perfect, no one is. But fuckin’ think next time, Trinity. It’s out of character for you not to.” The sparking finally died down. She could see the blank look on his face. It seemed like maybe she’d gotten through to him. Or maybe he wasn’t the person she thought he was. Only time would tell. “Nod if you’re not catatonic with shock.”

    Only Azure, Trinity thought numbly. Only she could rip him and his entire business model to pieces with just a few words-- that somehow still managed to pay him compliments he knew he didn’t deserve from her-- after spending half the night furious at him, and in the next breath somehow make a joke out of it all. The least he could do was respond to the joke. He did so, with a wooden nod of his head.

    There were parts of what he’d said that he still stood by. For one thing, he still wasn’t sure how she’d gotten the impression that this was out of character for him in any way. But she was at least correct in saying he hadn’t thought this through. If he had, maybe he would have realized that this could only hurt the very few things he truly cared about. But his heart, as it so often did, had slipped his mind. It occurred to him, as he sorted through the choices leading him here, that he had another very difficult conversation to plan after this one. There was someone else who deserved to know that he’d slipped, even if there was no way he was sharing the details. He sighed, shifting for the first time in what seemed like eons to run a hand through his hair.

    “I can’t truly apologize. It’s long past too late to make up for my choices.” His expression didn’t change, though somehow Azure got the feeling that ‘long past too late’ referred to something much further back than one business deal. 

    What it did refer to was a total mystery,  but Azure told herself she’d deal with that one later. Between the weird sense of self and the panic attacks, who knew what other bullshit he had going on. She had other, more present issues to deal with. Like getting that look off his face and teaching him a damn lesson about making up for mistakes.

    She smacked him in the chest, just hard enough to sting.

    “Dumbass, just fuckin’ do it right next time. You’re right, you already fucked up. You’re not exempt from self improvement just because you fucked up. Now say sorry.”

    He turned back to look at her and blinked a few times, surprised. “...Sorry?”

    “We’ll work on it. Good enough for now.” She looked almost fond under all that disappointment. “Maybe you ain’t a lost cause.”

    Somehow that fondness hurt worse than any amount of anger or disappointment that had led up to it. He was suddenly very aware that there was no way he could convince her to leave, or convince her to think of him any way other than however she damn well pleased. That was simply who Azure was. Which meant that someday, he was going to watch himself hurt her again, and that was just going to be something he had to accept. He took the realization in stride. There was no reason to dwell on it any longer than that, it was just the way things were. But he had at least decided that however that hurt was to come about, it wouldn’t be like this. He would do what he had to do to climb the ladder, but this kind of exploitative deal would not happen again.

    The car came to a stop at the drop point, and Trinity glanced back over at Azzy. “We’re here. You should let the ship know you’re back early.”

    “Of course.” She tapped a few words into a communicator. “Won’t be long, they hung around this time.” Her eyes met his, and she patted his shoulder. “Sorry for hittin’ ya. My “siblin’ to a sad sack” instincts kicked in before I could stop ‘em.” She thought for a moment before adding, “And next time I’m pissed, I’ll try to maybe keep it under wraps a little better before I run off to chill out. I just didn’t want to cause a scene, it wouldn’t be good for you.”

    He shook his head. The list of things he knew about Azure’s brother just kept getting more confusing. Vigilante, fashion designer, sharpshooter… and sad sack, apparently. “You don’t need to apologize. You did the best anyone could ask of you in that situation. It shouldn’t have been something you had to do at all.”

    “Yeah, but if I’m gonna go around demandin’ apologies, I may as well own up to anythin’ I might have done.” She brushed a couple of sparks off her skirt and opened the car door. “Have a good night, Hotshot.”

    “You too.” It was most certainly not enough, he’d said so little to her throughout this and had barely even apologized. Part of the reason for that was that apologizing to Azure again felt pointless and stale. He had no way to apologize to the buyers, that ship had sailed. So his apology would have to be held in his future actions. Far easier said than done.

    He turned back to his own ship, and set the coordinates for his home planet of Eden. At least he could do something about the other apology he’d roped himself into.

15. Apologies

    The sun had fully set and stars were clear in the sky by the time Trinity arrived home in Eden. He kicked his shoes off at the door, losing his coat and tie just as quickly, and headed up the stairs of his dark and silent house. The room at the end of the hall was mostly dark as well, but a tiny sliver of light peeked out from under the door. He sighed, put a hand to his temple, and knocked.

    The light went out immediately. Trinity rolled his eyes, fondly exasperated despite the situation. “I already saw the light. You can’t pretend you’re asleep. Can I come in?”

    There was a pause, and the rustling of blankets. The light clicked back on. 

“...Okay.” 

    Trinity opened the door and stepped inside. His thirteen year old sister sat up in bed with her arms crossed, a tablet on her lap clumsily hidden under the corner of her duvet. “I know I’m supposed to be asleep, but--”

    “It’s ok, Adriel.” He sighed and sat down on the edge of her bed. “I know it’s late, but can I talk to you about something?”

    Adriel’s defensive expression was immediately replaced with one of concern. “Are you okay?”

    Trinity bit his lip to hold back a grimace. Dammit, he hadn’t wanted to worry her. Though there was probably no way he could have approached this that wouldn’t have. “I’m fine,” he told her calmly. “But I need you to listen. Understand?”

    She nodded. He continued.

    “You know I try not to bring up business too much, it’s not your company and unless you want it, it never has to be. But you also know why I decided to take it over.” he paused as words seemed to fail him, and looked up at Adriel.

    Adriel saw her brother waiting, needing something from her to continue, and nodded solemnly. She might have been young when the power structure of the Jericho family had taken a dramatic shift into the hands of her older brother, but even at the age of eight she had known that he would never have taken over the Jericho business by choice. All that power and responsibility, forced upon him, no matter how much he pretended it was voluntary. Sometimes she couldn’t help but feel just a bit guilty. She knew how smart he was, he could be doing anything he wanted by now. Without the business pulling him down. Without her to provide for. But any time she so much as hinted at that line of thought, he shut it down. If Trin was anything he was stubborn, and he had told her more than once, point-blank, that he refused to let her blame herself for being young, for needing things. She wished he would follow his own advice.

    Trinity was still watching her, something tumultuous in his eyes she didn’t understand, but before she could try to offer some sort of consolation he began again. “I made a bad deal. I knew when I made it that I didn’t need it to advance, or to keep the two of us taken care of, but I chose not to think about any of that. Luckily, someone I know wouldn’t let me get away with it so easily.” He half-smiled, a small, self-deprecating expression that anyone looking in would have been shocked to see on the face of Trinity Jericho. “I said I’d do what I had to so you and I can be taken care of, but I didn’t have to do this. I’m sorry.”

    Adriel frowned. She knew he wouldn’t tell her any more than that, no matter how much she asked, but it was rare enough he brought up work at all. It must have been bad, or this mystery ‘someone he knew’ had really let him have it, for him to mention it to her in the first place. Let alone apologize. Sure, he apologized to her all the time, but that was for stupid things, like forgetting he’d said she could go out, or eating the last brownie. And any other time he’d gotten this weird guilty look on his face, he’d outright refused to talk to her about it or denied that anything was wrong at all. So why was he talking to her about it this time? 

    “What did that person say to you?” She couldn’t quite keep a bit of anger from mingling with the confusion in her voice, and Trinity held out his hands, pacifying.

    “Nothing that wasn’t true. Like I said, I made a bad choice. It just took a person who wasn’t looking at it from a business perspective to make me take notice.”

    “And you’re not going to do it again.”

    “To the very best of my ability, no.”

    Adriel shook her head, with a scoff. She would never understand why her brother worried so much. “Ok, then why are you apologizing to me? I wouldn’t have known, would I?”

    Trinity blinked at her. “And that makes it better somehow?” 

    He wanted to say that everything he did had a chance of reflecting on her. He wanted to say that he’d come close to completely forgetting about the only good reason he had for still running this company, let alone working with the people he did. He wanted to say that even if he’d already damned himself, he still wanted his little sister to think well of him, and that he didn’t want to have to lie to keep it that way. But saying any of that would only make her worry. Luckily, she didn’t give him the chance.

    “No. It would still be bad. But you’re my brother, and I’m not going to hate you because you did one thing without thinking about every possible tiny consequence first. And I wasn’t even upset about anything before you came in. Aren’t apologies supposed to be for people that you hurt?”

    Trinity rolled his eyes to the ceiling, letting out a frustrated huff of breath. Now she was getting somewhere. “Let’s assume for the moment that I can’t apologize to those directly involved. And just because your connection was indirect doesn’t mean I don’t owe you an apology. So, as I said, I’m sorry. I’m going to keep trying to do what’s best for you.”

    “I really don’t think you have to try that hard,” Adriel said mildly. “But I forgive you... if that means I can go to bed now?” She smiled, hoping he would smile back. She hated when Trinity was sad, almost as much as he seemed to hate it when she was. This conversation hadn’t made much sense from the start, but she at least hoped she’d said enough that he wouldn’t feel so guilty. She understood guilt.

    “Sure, Addy.” He didn’t smile, not quite, but he did lean over to kiss her lightly on the top of the head. “Goodnight.”

    That would have to be enough for now. She settled back onto her pillow, tucking away her tablet for real this time. “Goodnight.”

    As he left the room, Trinity pulled up a note on his eyescreen and drafted a quick message. He’d wait a day or so, then send it. Adriel was right in that she hadn’t been upset, but someone else had been. 

    “Azure,

    “I didn’t say this properly before. I apologize. I will do better.”

[mercyxkilling]

send ‘mistletoe!’ for our muses to get caught under mistletoe!

@phantomdream said: MISTLETOE FOR EVERY SINGLE MUSE MERCY WANTS TO MACK ON -- which is one of the most dangerous things a person could ever say to me

god. why did this have to happen?

mercy massaged her temples, as if it were going to somehow magically alleviate the pain that was building up behind her eyes. whether it was from the cacophony of noise or stress she didn't know, she just knew she wanted out of here. her brother had been so generous in offering to fly some of the family into japan for christmas this year, and she'd managed to get herself caught up in all of it. she'd planned on leaving before anyone had managed to arrive, but she hadn't been fast enough. what was worse, adachi was with her, and got roped into all of it, too. why he hadn't faked a phone call to leave yet was a mystery, but he was being as polite as he could be considering everything happening. her mother and other family members were all asking him intrusive questions, and he was doing an astounding job of keeping his mask on through it all, because It was taking all that she had to keep herself from backhanding her mother's fucking lipstick off.

“mercy, why you bein' so quiet? you're always usually talkin' and we couldn't ever get you to shut the fuck up. now you ain't sayin' a fuckin' word. the fuck is wrong wit' you?”

her mother's voice wormed its way into her ears, and she looked up to find that she'd approached, a hand on her hip, looking ready to dig into her daughter now. maybe she'd finally decided adachi was too boring, posed no threat, or he'd successfully batted her away by playing dumb.

maybe if she'd grown up in different circumstances, she'd have been happy to have this family gathering, and to have been surrounded by familiar faces and delicious food. maybe if her mother had been a normal, doting maternal figure who didn't beat her with broom handles and leather belts, if she hadn't taken her to conversion therapy, or if mercy didn't suspect the woman of having a hand in her father's murder, she'd have been a lot more conversational. maybe she'd have been able to grow up a healthy, functional human being. maybe she wouldn't spend every waking moment trying to prove something, or would have been able to feel anything other than horrible every goddamn second of every goddamn day.

but as far as she was concerned, her mother and her side of the family were the root of all the problems in her life. she had no desire to speak with her, or even look at her.

“if there's anything wrong with me at all, it's prob'ly a direct reflection of your shitty parenting, marie.”

she watched with some small measure of satisfaction as the older woman's features seemed to show pain. it wasn't anywhere near what she wanted to unleash, but at least mercy had managed to get something punishing out.

“what--”

everything shifted into something much darker, though, as her mother's tone changed to one of absolute rage. but before she'd allow for such a verbal assault mercy heaved a sigh and got to her feet, feeling the gaze of her brother and her uncles upon her as she made her way over to the front door to slip into her heels, gaining considerable height by doing so.

“as cool as this all is. i'd rather spend this time with someone i actually want to be with. so. adachi. you ready to go?”

she pulled her coat from the rack and shrugged into it, then reached for his and offered it to him.

he'd been so charming all evening. so friendly and adorable, even when her mother was picking at him, and her uncles had been staring daggers at him after they'd learned he was a cop. He deserved better than this, and he didn't deserve to be put through any more of it. If that meant he left immediately after they both hit the door then she wouldn't blame him. if anything, she could relate. mercy wanted nothing more than to run away from her brother's house, move out of his guest house, and be alone. joshua was just as intense as their mother in his own right, and made her feel just as awful. if it wasn't the bodyguards preventing her from doing what she wanted to do then it was the constant berating about how she'd never be anything other than contemptible scum. how his kids had ended up being sweethearts was beyond her, but mercy suspected it had something to do with their mother, her sister-in-law. himiko was a saint. she and her nieces and nephews had gotten considerably large gifts this year for treating her like she was an actual human being.

her thoughts kept her from paying much attention to the rest of the room, and it seemed her mother wasn't going to take her abuse lying down. as adachi awkwardly shuffled across the room, marie was shoving past him to her daughter, arm pulled back and ready to strike.

“you can't treat me like that! i am your mother!”

because she'd been extending an arm out for adachi to take his coat, and because her thoughts were already elsewhere, mercy hadn't been prepared to adequately defend herself. she'd lifted her free hand to try and fend off the older woman, but she'd been too late. a resounding slap! rang in her ears when she felt marie's palm come in contact with her face. but it hadn't stopped there. she was pulling hair and repeatedly swatting, and it had taken her brother to pull their mother away.

“let me go! she can't talk to me like that, josh! she can't talk to me like that! let me fuckin' go!”

it hadn't mattered that all of mercy's nieces and nephews were there to see that. apparently proving a point and asserting her dominance over her daughter meant more than scarring her son's children. hopefully they wouldn't grow up the way mercy had. she cared very little about most people, but those kids were angels. they deserved better.

adachi by now had made his way to her and, in an unexpected moment of care, brushed her disheveled hair from her face.

“let's go,” was all he'd said as he slipped his shoes on and took his coat. He was pulling it on as he reached for the door and opened it.

mercy quickly walked outside into the night, and no one tried to stop either of them when they exited the house.

she might have hated the cold, but the snow and wind were far more inviting than the living room had been. she pulled the collar of her wool coat up to shield herself from the elements, then turned to face the detective, whose expression was strangely unreadable.

“i'm surprised you just took all of that. why didn't you do anything?”

was he... mad at her? or was he actually upset that her family treated her like garbage? she didn't want to ask, almost as if she were afraid of the answer.

“because what good would it have done me? besides. we've all gotta take a beating once in a while. just the way things work.”

“that's the stupidest shit i've ever heard you say, mercy.” he sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, then looked up at her. “whatever. but... your family. they were really starting to piss me off. probably better that we had that happen before I had to stay any longer.”

“if we did, i'd probably have ended up slitting everyone's throats before midnight.”

“i wouldn't even mind the clean up if you did.”

“you say the sweetest things.” she could have sworn she heard him chuckle, but maybe she was just imagining it. “anyway. you should get outta here.”

“you talk like you aren't going to come with me. we're getting a drink after all that. i think we both need one.”

“i didn't want to--”

“shut up. you aren't staying here tonight. and you aren't coming back until that bitch goes back home, either.”

“i'm not?”

“no. you aren't. now move. i don't wanna be here.”

she didn't like him giving her orders, but mercy also appreciated the fact that he seemed to care enough to get her away from her family. she still couldn't get an absolute read on the guy, he was an enigma, but this didn't seem like an attempt at manipulation. and if it were, mercy wasn't sure she'd have cared enough to try and fight it. she was too emotionally drained to try.

“mmn, okay. but, hey. listen. before we do.”

he'd already started to push into motion, but paused and turned on his heel to face her again, inquisitive. his grey eyes followed to where she was pointing.

“mistletoe?”

“mmhmm. that means you have to kiss me. obviously.”

he stared at her for the span of two heartbeats, as if he weren't sure if she were being serious or not. but because mercy wasn't moving seemed to clue him into the fact that she refused to budge until he did what was expected.

he rolled his eyes.

“this is stupid. I figured you'd wanna get out of here before your mom comes out here with a broom handle.”

“cool of you to bring up my childhood beatings, but. I still want you to kiss me.”

“no.”

“tch, man, fuck you. get the fuck over here and put your fucking tongue In my mouth.”

maybe she'd gone a bit too far, and was still carrying a bit of anger from that little scenario just moments ago, but her tone was far more harsh than she'd intended. adachi probably hadn't liked it by the way he took a step closer and closed the distance between the two of them... and forced her back against the door by taking another. but then he moved his hand to her face, held her chin between his thumb and forefinger, and tilted her face up to force her to look him in the eye.

“not sure you deserve it after talking to me like that. But... it is christmas.”

and with that, his mouth was on hers, and his other hand had fisted around a handful of her hair as he parted her lips with his tongue and gave her what she'd asked for.

and god, was he delicious.

mercy clutched at his lapels to pull him further into her, no longer aware of the cold, or the loud and obnoxious voices barely audible behind the front door behind her. she felt his hand move from her hair and his arm move to dip around her waist possessively.

after a moment, he pulled away, released her, and stepped back.

“will that shut you up for now?”

“mmn, if i say no, would you do it again?”

he scoffed and turned to move down the steps of the porch, giving her her answer.

“can we go get that drink now, for fuck's sake?”

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 31

When the darkness pulled me away from the dark, I felt the peace that I craved, but it was short lived. Pain intruded in the form of Daryl’s face. Standing close enough to me to touch, looking so completely disappointed in me, as though I’d betrayed him. I tried to speak, but nothing came out and he disappeared. Turning his back, saying nothing he faded to nothing as he walked away from me, once again.

He was replaced by Dad. Sad eyes, filled with tears and more disappointment, more betrayal. Again nothing said, and again he turned and walked away without another look. Then Carl, then Judith, then...as my heart clenched, pain radiating through me, my entire family, their faces shrouded in disappointment and betrayal, walking away from me without a single word.

I felt something shaking me, and wondered if this is how it ended, my very body breaking apart at the seams. But my eyes felt like they were being forced open, and there was Negan. Hovering over me, blocking out the stream of sunlight shining behind him, his hands on my shoulders shaking me awake.

His hands stayed on my shoulders, but the shaking stopped when my eyes opened. He was doing that studying thing again. And I was trying to figure out why he shook me, why he’d woken me up, even with the invasion of the people I cared about tormenting me.

“You were screaming.” His voice sounded harsh, as though he’d been shouting too. “I tried to get you to wake up by calling your name, but you wouldn’t fucking open your eyes.” He released my shoulders and sat down on the bed where he’d been kneeling over me. “Screaming and crying like you were fucking being tortured.” His eyes never left mine. “What happened to you, Jessica?”

Nothing. I thought. Nothing had happened to me that hadn’t happened to everyone still surviving. Nothing different. Nothing earth shattering. Nothing. I could feel the tears streaming down my cheeks, wet and cooling on my skin. I could still see every single person I loved or tried to love walking away without a word. And I knew that it wasn’t nothing, but it wasn’t something I’d share with him.

 Negan didn’t push me, not then, to share what had made me emote more in my sleep than he’d ever seen me show in consciousness. Instead, he handed me a new set of clothes, and pointed toward a bathroom. I went inside, and shut the door. “Don’t lock that, Jessica.” I heard his voice muffled behind the closed barrier. Of course, I was still on suicide watch.

I took off my clothes, and took a look in the mirror over the sink. What did he see that I didn’t? My hair needed a washing, but I had been through the forest, through the sweat inducing angst of watching Abraham die, and then a day here without a shower. I was pale, far paler than I’d been at the beginning of the end. I looked at myself and saw nothing I hadn’t already known. I was me. Pale and a bit dirtier than usual, especially since living in Alexandria, but still outwardly I was Jessica Grimes.

“Get a shower, princess, we have places to be.” His voice called, and I sighed and did what was expected.

The shower was much like the first shower I’d had with Judith in Alexandria. Welcome after the gritty feeling I watched wash down the drain. I dried off with a towel that was waiting on the counter when I’d come in. Then I pulled on the clothes he’d provided. A pair of black leggings, a loose white t-shirt that looked like one of his own, over a bra and panty set that was my size. My boots were in the other room, but I found a brush and untangled my wet hair, braiding it in a long rope down my back.

When I opened the door, Negan was sitting at the foot of his bed waiting for me. He turned to take stock of my fresh appearance and with a nod, gestured for me to come closer. Once again, his hand cupped my chin so he could force my face up for another inspection. His hands were gentle, a far cry from what I’d witnessed from him in the clearing with my family. I waited, patiently for him to finish and release me.

“We’re going to Alexandria today.” He was saying, giving me an idea of what to expect. “You aren’t to speak to them, any of them, is that clear?” I tried to nod, but he was still holding my chin.

“Yes, I understand.” I offered, hoping this would release me from his touch. He was so casual with it, the way he touched me, that it was unnerving.

“Good girl,” he smirked. And I knew some part of me didn’t like the way he’d said it. As though I really was his pet. “Get your boots on and we’ll head out.”

 On the road to where I’d once called home, I sat between Negan and the man with the scarred face, ‘D’. I sat quietly, and allowed myself to slip back into the comfort of my own blank mind. Letting myself forget that I’d see them, those people who’d turned away from me with a look of frustration and mistrust, in person.

When we arrived, Negan held my wrist in his hand as he banged on the gate. He mocked my former family and community by acting the Big Bad Wolf. Spencer, Deanna’s son, opens it without realizing, I think just who he’s admitting. Then again, I was standing next to Negan, so perhaps he felt it was safe.

And then Dad is there, saying he’d expected more time. Negan handed that bat, the weapon that he’d used to take a life we knew, to him and we’re inside the walls. I know that Dad is trying to check on me, I know even as I keep my eyes straight ahead, even before Negan issues his threat. “No one, not a single fucking one of you, is to speak to her.” I know that all eyes have landed on me, standing beside Negan, because he hasn’t released my wrist. “If anyone wants to tempt my fucking temper, then please, go right the fuck ahead.” No one speaks, not even Dad. Not to me.

Dad’s set aside half the supplies, the edict, I suspect that came before I’d stepped forward. Negan overrules that, saying that HE says what they’ll take, not Dad. A fierce woman, one of Negan’s, sets the others loose on Alexandria to search and find.

I stand still beside Negan as he and my father go back and forth. I’m not needed here, not really, so I allow my mind to wander back to the safety of the nothingness. It’s broken by a gunshot sounding out. I’m pulled along with Negan and Dad to the infirmary, where Carl has taken a stand. No, I think, don’t. Let them take what they will, little brother, let it go and be safe.

Dad pleads with Carl to stop, echoing what I felt inside my head. The need to protect him, to keep him safe. After all, hadn’t I offered my life to do just that? To keep them safe? Negan compliments Carl on his prowess and conviction, but then tells him that he will kill more of the people he thinks of as family. I feel Carl’s eyes on me, but Negan laughs.

“Jessica’s far safer with me than she ever was with you.” His hand slides from my wrist to my hand. He links our fingers as I struggle to understand. “But every single other person here? They’re fucking expendable to me.”

And the weapons, they’re what Negan decides is the price for Carl’s stand. The food, that stays, since Dad and the others will need strength to collect more for Negan. He wants Dad to thank him. To thank his benevolence, but Dad is Dad. Negan shifts and asks if any weapons are kept outside the armory, and Dad insists that the answer is no. There’s a tense time when Olivia’s inventory doesn’t match what Negan’s people find.

As Dad walks away to try to figure out where the missing weapons could be, calling his people to a meeting, I feel more eyes on me. I don’t glance around to find the source, I don’t have to. “Your hick is lookin’ at me like he wants to fuckin’ kill me.” Daryl, I hope beyond hope that he won’t. That he’ll stay safe, that he won’t squander my attempt to save lives.

The weapons are found in Spencer’s house. Once Negan has every weapon, Dad asks for my return. Since Alexandria is being compliant, since he’s playing nice, can I come home?

Negan looks at me, I can tell because I can feel his eyes on my face. “Jessica, do you wanna stay?” I say nothing. He’d told me not to, I’d given my life for Glenn’s, and I don’t renege on deals. “Would you look at that? Your own fucking daughter isn’t interested.” As we’re leaving, Negan holding my hand, and Dad on his other side, Negan gives the shot that I knew he’d been holding tight. The shot that would wound the deepest. “Rick Grimes, biggest fucking asshole I’ve ever had the misfortune to deal with, how does it fucking feel to know that you broke her so fucking badly that staying with the fucking Devil is a better offer than staying with daddy?”

He helps me into the same vehicle we’d come in, but D isn’t on my other side. I haven’t a clue where he is, nor do I care, but I do know that I’m glad I didn’t look at Dad. That I didn’t meet the eyes of Daryl. That I’d kept my word to Negan, because I knew, if I had dropped my thousand yard stare, my mask, that I may not have been able to leave again. And since it didn’t matter whether here or there, as long as nowhere waited for me, I could survive anything. Until the end for me came, and then I’d be in the nothing forever.

[whentommymetalfie]

Breathe again -chapter six

-Sun Tomorrow- 

prologue//one//two//three//four//five//

Chapter Summary: With Tommy’s condition worsening, Alfie decides to try something new. 

Pairing: Alfie/Tommy

Warnings: disordered eating, suicidal ideation, mental instability 

Wordcount: 5300

“Well, the good news are that his feet look alright. I’ve taken the bandages off,” Esther says as she enters the kitchen where Alfie is currently pacing. There’s been quite a lot of that these past few days, pacing, and for some reason he felt the need to do it in a different room today.

“Yeah, well, that’s a small bloody comfort,” he mutters. “What with absolutely everything else is going straight to hell.”

Esther sets the tray down on the kitchen table.

“Give it some time, Sir. He’s obviously been through a lot.”

“Well who hasn’t,” Alfie grunts. “Who fucking hasn’t?” Then he sighs and indicates towards the piece of bread still on the tray. “Still not eating anything, then?” Esther smiles a mild, tilted smile and shrugs.

“Well, he did eat some of the soup. It’s better than nothing.”

Alfie is overwhelmed by an uncomfortable feeling that maybe it’s not better than nothing. Maybe betterwould be to just let Tommy fade away… Seems like the more merciful thing.

No, the truly merciful thing would’ve been to shoot him down at the beach.

He shakes his head to rid it of the thought, because he’s fucking told himself to let that whole thing go, and agonizing over it isn’t helping. Instead he focuses on the practicalities; reminds himself to call Ollie tomorrow and get some intel on Birmingham. See if word’s gotten out that Tommy is missing. Really, he should’ve done it already, but it’s a bit hard to focus on things like that when you have a demanding fucking houseguest that needs babysitting at all hours…

“And you’re sure you don’t want me to stay?” Esther asks and pulls him from the musings.

He waves his hand dismissively. “Your afternoon off is your afternoon off. And I know for a fact that you’ve been looking forward to visiting that sister of yours. We’ll survive a couple of hours on our own”

Esther is still frowning as she unties the knot in the apron and hangs it on a hook by the stove.

“But you have to promise to be gentle with him, Sir.”  

Alfie rolls his eyes. “Fuck, woman, he’s not an abandoned kitten we’ve found in some cardboard box…”

Good analogy that, it may be at odds with the bird one but it somehow feels quite fitting too. Esther is not amused.

“May I remind you, Mister Solomons, that the last time I left you two alone-“

“No, you may not fucking remind me, I get it.” Alfie puts both hands up in a gesture of defeat.

Esther gives him a final, stern look. “All I’m saying is that I better not come home tomorrow and find him beaten all black and blue again.”

Fucking hell, the nerve of this woman…

“You have my bloody word. Now go.”

Esther leaves, but only after another reprimand, some intel on the food situation in the house, and saying yet again that Alfie needs to: ‘be patient with him, poor thing, today isn’t a good day’. And fuck Alfie is moments away from regretting his decision before she’s finally out the door.

After debating with himself for a bit, he reluctantly goes to check on Tommy. On his way to do that,  he passes the living room and sees the blue sky outside the glass doors. It’s been a few days of rain, but now the sky is clear, and the wind is nothing but a gentle breeze. He allows himself to linger and tries to somehow store that peaceful scenery inside himself for what is bound to be yet another frustrating and worrying interaction.

Bracing himself, he opens the door to the guestroom.

The room smells of nightmares and fucking… sadness and sweat. As if the misery is just seeping out of Tommy’s pores. Which isn’t surprising considering he’s spent the past four days in that bed without a proper wash, because baths haven’t exactly been a priority.

But spending all his time in a bed doing nothing but talk to ghosts and being utterly lost in various delusions can’t be doing anything for him.

Alfie thinks of the blue sky outside.

And is suddenly all out of his already lacking patience.

He walks up to the bed.

Tommy is gazing at some spot on the wall, the circles under his eyes dark and his skin ghostly pale. There’s only a tiny sliver of blue visible beneath his eyelids, but it’s enough for Alfie to see that he’s indeed awake. Or whatever you may call this state.

He starts off by shaking him quite roughly.

“Oi, Tommy, you’re getting out of this bed.”

Tommy doesn’t react.

Alfie’s hand flies up on pure instinct, but he stops himself at the last moment, letting it drop back down to his side. Instead he painfully crouches down in Tommy’s line of sight, stares straight at him and grabs onto his shoulder.

“Hey, you’re getting out of this bed and into a bath. It’s non-negotiable.”

Finally, Tommy’s gaze shifts to him.

“A bath?” he repeats, a tiny wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. Good. Not completely beyond reach today, then.

Alfie nods. “Yeah. And then we’re going for a walk. The weather is brilliant and if there’s one thing life has taught me it’s that it’s just not healthy to lie around and give yourself too much time to think about things. And you truly should listen to me because not only am I a God, but I also possess the wisdom of just a very old man-“

Tommy blinks at him.

Ignoring the lack of enthusiasm or just acknowledgement in general, Alfie straightens up, grabs onto his shoulders and pulls him upright. Only when the blankets pool around the impossibly thin waist does he remember that Tommy isn’t wearing any fucking clothes. Which makes him pause. Then he ambles off to the bathroom, grabs a clean towel and throws it at him.

“There’s a tub in here,” he says, nodding towards the bathroom. “And running water. And not that I really fancy the idea of hanging around watching you bathe, I’m also not too keen on finding you fucking floating around in the water, so I’ll be stayiing”

Tommy just looks at him and bloody hell it’s just all around very fucking frustrating dealing with someone who keeps acting like every word you say is a mystery… Alfie points at the towel.

“Go ahead, then. Out of that bed. I can even do you the favour of filling the tub like the fucking saintly man I am. All you need to do is take that towel and get in here.”

He turns and stomps into the bathroom and to the tub, turning the knobs to get the water running. Fuck he really should wait with this until Esther is back tomorrow. Why didn’t he do that? She’s well versed in dealing with this little lunatic by now, and in giving baths. Why on earth would he start on a mission like this on his own?

He pours a glug from a bottle on the edge of the tub into the water and the room fills with some florally scent as bubbles begin forming. Just as he’s about to go back and drag Tommy out of bed by the hair, the door creaks and Tommy appears on the threshold with the towel wrapped around his waist and with that blanket Alfie gave him draped over his shoulders, leaving very little of him uncovered.

He eyes first Alfie and then the bath very dubiously but without any actual glint in his eyes. Just this dull sort of nothingness.

Alfie turns off the water. The bath is just about half full, but that’s going to make it a bit more difficult for Tommy to drown himself in it.

“Get in,” he says and points at it. “I’ll be right outside this door and mind you I’ll be fuckin checking on you.”

Tommy just stares at the bath, but the only option other than physically picking him up and dumping him into it, is to just let him take it at his own pace. And even though that first option is a tempting one, Alfie reckons that would be going too far.

So he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

“Just so we’re clear, I’m right outside. So don’t try anything,” he says and taps a finger against the door for good measure.

Then he listens for any sound of movement. But either Tommy is being awfully quiet or standing stock still. Feels pretty fucking ridiculous to be standing out there, but what’s a man to do?

There’s a bit of quiet splashing and then more silence.

Deciding to give it a minute or so, he goes to fetch the clothes Esther has laid out for Tommy. She did try to insist on going into town and buying him something that would actually fit, but the weather really hasn’t been permitting any long trips like that. And it’s not like anyone is going to see Tommy, so what does it matter if the clothes are a bit big?

Alfie is certain she’ll return tomorrow with clothes anyway.

With the garments draped over his arm he knocks on the bathroom door.

“You okay in there Tommy?”

Silence.

“Know you’re not very fond of the whole… talking bit, but you’ll have to make a noise or I swear I’ll come in there.”

Still nothing.

These days, that’s about all it takes for Alfie’s heart to get stuck in the back of his throat. And he tugs the door open without a second thought.

Tommy is sitting in the tub, knees drawn up to his chest and surrounded by mounds of white bubbles, eyes glassily fastened on the opposite wall.

“What part of ‘make a noise’ do you not understand,” Alfie hisses and dumps the clothes down on top of the marble sink. Tommy blinks and glances at him, flinching as if Alfie just appeared out of thin air. And Alfie takes one of those slow breaths in through his nose that he’s practiced these past few days.

And doesn’t yell at him.

Or slap him over the face.

“You doing okay?”

Tommy nods.

“How about we try to start using words every now and then, eh?” Alfie says and scratches his beard irritably. “Let’s try that again. Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Tommy says quietly and hunches his shoulders a bit, shifting ever so slightly to curl up tighter into his already tightly wound ball of limbs. Doesn’t look very comfortable or relaxed at all but that would probably be asking too much.  

“Brilliant. I’ve got some clothes here for you.” Alfie gestures to the pile. “They’ll be too big but that’s just something you’ll have to live with. So if you just do less fucking staring and more getting cleaned up, we can go out for a bit.”

Tommy doesn’t move, save for raking his nails across his shoulder.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

“Right, Tommy,” he says. “I know everything is very new and difficult but you do remember how to take a fucking bath don’t you?”  

If the lack of response is anything to go by, clearly no.

The next deep breath comes out as a sigh with perhaps a bit too much frustration in.

“Right, so just clean yourself up a bit. Don’t have to dunk your head in if that’s… if that’s too much right now. Just wash some of that nightmare sweat off.”  

Alfie grabs a stool from the bedroom, sets it down on the middle of the floor and turns his back against Tommy. “And I’ll just sit right here and stare very carefully at this wall to make sure we get some progress here. See, I can hear if you’re actually doing something besides sitting there staring.”

He can somehow feel Tommy’s eyes boring into the back of his neck and he crosses his arms resolutely over his chest.

“Yeah, this is fucking strange, I’m well aware,” he grunts. “But I’ve made the informed decision that you’re in no state to be left alone, or you’ll just sit there until the water turns cold. And I’m not fucking bathing you. As much as all of my previous behaviour contradicts this, I’m not actually a bloody nurse. So you’ll just have to do it yourself, alright?”

Silence for another moment.

Alfie wonders if it’s physically possible for a body to just explode from pent up frustration. Surely that must be a thing?

Then there’s a tell-tale sound of water moving and dripping down a body.

“Should be a sponge there somewhere,” he says and tries to somehow hear if Tommy starts using it.

He gives it a few minutes, during which he thinks very hard about absolutely everything except for how fucking strange it is to be sitting in the same room as a naked Tommy in a bathtub.

When it goes very silent again, he glances over his shoulder to find Tommy looking back at him. His cheeks have gone a bit pink from the heat and his hair is  curling at the ends from the steam. Fucking unacceptable really, that people get to just walk around and look like that. Alfie would like to take it up with someone. And it’s not like he really pays attention to it but he’s not fucking blind is he? Not entirely at least.

He clears his throat.

“You done?”

Tommy nods. He raises both eyebrows and gets another quiet ‘yes’ instead

He puts his hands on his knees and gets to his feet.

“Well then, Tommy, there are just three more tiny steps that I’d like for you to do, and it’d make both our lives just a whole lot easier,” he says. “Get out of the tub, dry yourself off and put some clothes on-“ Tommy’s eyes have gone oddly glazed again and he snaps his fingers in front of him. “Oi, still talking.” Fucking hell. At least Tommy shakes out of the daze and blinks up at him. “So, steps: out of the tub, dry yourself off, put on clothes. Can you do that?”

Tommy’s eyes narrow just the tiniest bit, and Alfie desperately wishes to see some of that old iciness glint in them. Wishes he’d roll them and say something along the lines of ‘I’m not a fucking child’. Maybe get out of the tub stark naked and-

All he gets is another nod.

“Great. I’ll leave the room for this.” He makes his way out the door, telling Tommy over his shoulder: “Mind you I’ll be back in a few minutes and if you’ve managed to somehow injure yourself in that time I swear I can’t be held responsible for my fucking actions. Alright?”

He slams the bathroom door shut and goes to stand by the window to somehow occupy himself with the view.

Fucking hell it’s only been an hour since Esther left and he’s already contemplating murder.

His mood is marginally brightened a few minutes later, when the bathroom door opens and Tommy comes out dressed in his clothes.

It’s quite a sight. They would’ve been too big for him even years back before the extra pounds around Alfie’s stomach but now he’s is absolutely drowning in them. Granted Tommy’s also shrunk down to barely more than skin and bones. He’s had to cinch in the trousers with a belt because a pair of suspenders would’ve just left it all hanging in a lose sort of tent around him, and the shirt hangs off his shoulders, bony wrists barely poking out under the large sleeves.

Alfie finds himself smirking and gets what almost, by these new measures, could be counted as a glare.

“Right, now all we need is a coat.”

He heads for the hallway, Tommy following a few steps behind.

“Alright, I’ve got a few to choose from.” Alfie sifts through the items in the wardrobe positioned right inside the front door. “All of them will be far too fucking big on you but I suppose we’ll go for the one that’s the warmest.”

He pulls the thick coat out and tosses it at Tommy.

It lands on the floor.

“Well, pick it up, I’m not a fucking maid.” He shrugs into a coat he’s picked out for himself.

Tommy does. Even puts it on, too.

He flinches when Alfie barks out a laugh, but it can’t be helped -it’s just such a fucking  sight alright? Tommy looks like a child playing dress-up in their father’s clothes.

Once he’s equipped him with a pair of boots, he opens the front door to let light flood into the hallway.

“There we go, let’s see if getting some sunshine on that face will help, hm?”

With that, he grabs onto the coat sleeve and tugs Tommy towards the door, over the threshold and out into the afternoon sun.

The crisp air fills his lungs as he sets foot on the gravel path leading up to the house and he allows himself a moment to just stand there and enjoy it before saying: “See, this is quite nice, innit?”

Tommy is still on the steps, blinking in the sunlight and looking altogether very dazed and lost.

Alfie grabs the coat sleeve again and tugs him along, only letting go once they’re out the front gate.

The walk starts off pretty rocky to say the least. Tommy reminds him of a new-born foal, every step unsteady and unsure. And after an initial bewildered look at his new surroundings, he keeps his gaze firmly fixed on the ground. Alfie ignores it and sets off down the path leading from the house and towards a grassy field. Not down to the sea for now, because that would be… an unnecessary challenge.

“Alright, so maybe you’d like to know a little about this beautiful scenery, hm?” he says as they walk down the path, surrounded by frost painted grass. He gestures towards an patch of greenery in the middle of the field. “Yeah, those, of course, are trees. To the untrained eye they might all look the same but I am well versed in most things and know better-”

Still talking, he leads Tommy through the field, pointing at various objects that just so happen to be mostly trees and bushes. And since he quickly remembers that botany was never his strong suit he makes up a few facts, because there really is no harm in that and at least it keeps Tommy occupied.

Tommy goes along with it, sticking close to his side. He still looks mostly at the ground, fingers picking at the fabric of the too long coat sleeves, but every now and then he’ll glance up and look at what Alfie is pointing at.

He doesn’t walk fast, which isn’t a surprise considering the state of him. And Alfie isn’t fucking cruel, alright, he adjusts his pace accordingly. It’s not like he wants Tommy to end up collapsing somewhere. But he’s sort of expecting it, still. Almost waiting for it with this sick sense of curiosity, wondering for how long he’ll manage to stay on his feet. But even though Tommy clearly struggles just to keep moving at all, he does stay upright.

It’d be stupid to overdo it, though, so finally Alfie stops by a chestnut tree and turns to face him, almost tripping over him because Tommy clearly doesn’t understand the concept of personal space right now.

“You getting tired?” he asks and by some miracle keeps the frustration from his voice.

Tommy isn’t listening, because he’s looking at a shiny chestnut lying nestled among the leaves.

Alfie picks it up and studies it.

“Funny things these… See, I have this very distinct memory of not understanding where they came from, you know, when I was a boy.” He rubs his thumb over the smooth surface. “There was this huge tree- well, in one of the parks, of course, there weren’t any fucking trees around Camden now, was there? Well, I distinctly remember always being surprised when I found these on the ground, because it felt like they’d just sprung out from nowhere, right? Coming from those prickly shells…“

Tommy finally holds his gaze when he looks at him. Eyes blue as the sky.

Alfie grabs his wrist, turns his hand upwards and drops the chestnut down into his palm. It’s followed by instant regret, because what on earth possessed him to do a thing like that? Doesn’t matter, now it’s done and he lets go of the bony wrist as if it’s burning hot to the touch.

Tommy is busy looking down at the chestnut, thank God, because he’s pretty sure he’s fucking blushing.

He clears his throat and starts walking back in direction of the house.

“Alright, suppose we’d better be heading back. It’ll start getting dark soon. And we’re not moving all that fast-“

A moment later he hears Tommy’s footsteps on the path and soon he’s got him there right by his arm again. And he should probably be annoyed because he’s walking so close that Alfie nearly steps on his feet a time or two. Which, yeah, does fucking annoy him make no mistake. But then he feels a hand grasp his coat sleeve. And instead of annoyance flaring up at the gesture, he feels a tug at his heartstrings. Fuck, fuck this is bad…He lets Tommy hold on, because he must be getting tired now, so it’s probably for the best.

Sure enough, by the time he unlocks the front door, Tommy is swaying ever so slightly on his feet, obviously exhausted. But at least the cold air and the bath has given him a tiny bit of colour on his cheeks, which does make him look less like a ghost, so all in all this feels like a successful endeavour.

“Right, I suggest you go sit down,” Alfie says and shrugs out of his coat, waiting to see if Tommy will follow his example or-

Lo and behold, Tommy does in fact pull the coat off, putting it back on one of the hooks.

“Since Esther is away for the night you’ll have to make do with my tea,” Alfie says and heads for the kitchen. “But I do actually know how to make decent tea, because what kind of fucking person doesn’t know how to do that? So why don’t you go sit in the living room for a bit?”

“Not the bed?”

Alfie stops at the question. Tommy has just stepped out of the boots and is standing there on the carpet looking very lost.

“The bed? No. No, I think we’ll avoid that for now. Doesn’t seem to be doing you any good.”

He’s just about to head to the kitchen, but a voice in the back of his mind tells him he’s about to make another one of those less than stellar choices by leaving Tommy to fend for himself there in the hallway. So he turns back, grabs him by the elbow in what he hopes isn’t too much of a rough grip and leads him towards the living room.

“There. Sit,” he says and releases him right by the armchair. “And stay there.”

Tommy’s obedience is mostly eerie, but it does come in handy in times like these, and he promptly sits down. And at least it’s a sign that he’s somewhat lucid, because otherwise he tends to do exactly the opposite of whatever Alfie is telling him.

Once Tommy has curled himself into that tight ball he seems so fond of being in, Alfie goes to make tea. He tells himself it’s because he quite fancies a cup, and then he might as well make one for Tommy as well.

When he returns to the living room, it’s empty. He very nearly throws the tray into the wall on pure instinct as a response, but catches himself at the last moment, setting it down on a table instead. Would of course be a shame on the porcelain. Not to mention his quite extensive collection of books residing on the bookshelf that almost became his target.

“Tommy?” he calls out, but is already moving towards the door. Fuck, if Tommy has gone ahead and wandered out into the sea again Alfie will just fucking leave him there. This is too much to ask of a person…

But the door is locked, the key still in the lock on the inside, and just as he turns to find someplace else to search, he finds Tommy standing there in the doorway with a blanket in his arms.

“Thought I told you to stay put,” Alfie grunts before he can stop himself. Tommy curls back up in the armchair, now with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“I was cold.”

Alfie gestures to the large number of blankets piled up on the other sofa. But then he realises that of course that’s the specialblanket Tommy’s been clutching like a lifeline since Alfie gave it to him.

Right. That explains it.

“Well, there’s tea now,” he says and points unnecessarily to the tray. “I can’t be fucking arsed to force feed you, so I won’t even try. Just drink something, alright?”

After getting a fire going, he can finally sit down with a sigh. He’s moved his armchair a bit to put it closer to Tommy’s. Makes it easier to grab onto him if he tries anything stupid. Which, given his track record, he will.

He picks up his book, sets the glasses on his nose and starts reading, deciding he deserves a moment of respite from all of this.

Meanwhile, Tommy drinks his tea quietly. And things are surprisingly peaceful for a while.

The next time Alfie looks up, he finds Tommy looking at the cover of the book, the empty teacup sitting on the tray.

“It’s a pretty decent book, this,” he says and taps the cover. “Well, I’m just on the second chapter, but it’s Austen, so how bad could it be? And before you say anything I’d like to point out that it’s masterful prose, even though it happens to concern fuckin’… rich folks just strolling around on lawns and sighing a lot.”

Tommy keeps looking at him, and this is longer than he usually pays attention so Alfie continues:  “See in this part, for example, our protagonist’s just having this very long monologue. And I think it’s about to continue on the next page.” He flips to the next page and hums. “Yeah, yeah see, these people really know where it’s at.” Tommy is still looking at him. He clears his throat and starts reading: “The weather’s been dreadfully grey, hasn’t it-“ he glances up at Tommy over the edge of his glasses. “You’ll have to imagine that being a woman’s voice yourself, alright? Because I’m not doing any attempts at that. Well, anyway-” he clears his throat and continues. “Ghastly, I tell you, absolutely ghastly.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Tommy set his head against the back of the armchair, still with his eyes fastened on him.

He finishes the passage where the weather is discussed, and decides he might as well finish the whole page because what could the harm be in that? But when the page is over, Tommy is still paying attention, which is such a remarkable fucking thing that he reads another. And another. By the third page, he feels a slight tug at the fabric of his left shirtsleeve. Tommy has grabbed onto it. And of course it’s right there, on the armrest only inches away from Tommy’s chair, and he did spend a good part of his first day in the house clinging to this very shirt, so maybe it’s not such a strange and momentous thing. But it feels very much like both.

So from then on when he’s about to turn to a new page he puts the book down onto his lap so that he can use only his right hand. If holding onto something keeps Tommy from having one-sided conversations with any of the stuffed birds, or scratching himself bloodied, well then it seems like a small sacrifice to make.

But he’ll just finish this chapter, then it’ll have to be enough. He’s got things to do. Can’t be sitting around here all evening. Not that he can remember exactly what those things were, but it’s a matter of principle, really.

Yeah. He’ll just finish this chapter.

But when he gets to the end of that chapter, he finds himself starting the next one. Just because Tommy hasn’t shifted uneasily or said some cryptic shit for over half an hour, which must be some kind of record, truly. And if that makes Alfie feel more at peace than he has in fucking days and if the way he’s curled up against the armrest and pulled Alfie’s arm a bit closer makes him feel some type of way, then that’s no one else’s business is it?

And neither is the fact that when the sun begins setting outside the window, he’s still reading. Truth be told he’s so engulfed by it that he only notices because the low rays shine into his eyes. He places the book on his lap, spine up, and looks out the glass door.

“Now, that’s really, in the grand scheme of things, why you should have a house by the beach, innit, Tommy?” he says and nods towards the view.

Tommy glances out the windows and makes a little affirmative noise. Which feels like a victory. He’s still holding onto the shirtsleeve, and Alfie’s arm has somehow ended up all the way on the armrest of Tommy’s chair. He pretends not to notice. Like it’s just some lose extremity that’s lying there and not at all attached to his body by the shoulder.

He switches on the table lamp and continues reading. It’s rather nice, reading out loud. Strikes him he’s never really done that before. Cited things, sure. He gladly takes every opportunity to use words from people wiser than him, few as they are, especially if it serves to illustrate a point. But he’s never really read out loud before.

When he finishes yet another chapter, it’s quite dark in the room, so he looks over to Tommy to see how he’s dealing with that. Would be unfortunate if there were more of those scratching incidents, is all…

Tommy is asleep; the fingers of his right hand curled loosely into Alfie’s shirt and with the blanket pulled all the way up to his nose. His left hand is resting in his lap, clutching a small object. It takes Alfie a moment to realise that it’s the chestnut.

He blinks. And is annoyed that an almost giddy feeling of relief swells in his chest, because the sight of Tommy finally relaxed, eyes closed, lips slightly parted and with every line on his face smoothed out, has no business making him so happy.

Right. Tommy’s asleep. Means he can get some uninterrupted time to himself to just… exist and not have to worry about him every fucking second.

Well. It won’t hurt, just sitting here for a bit and making sure he stays asleep.

As if on que, Tommy shifts a little and frowns. Lacking better options, Alfie opens up the book and starts reading again, as soft and quiet as he can. Tommy settles down again and he feels himself relaxing back into his armchair.

And if he falls asleep in that very armchair a few hours later with the book on his chest and Tommy still sleeping soundly next to him, well, no one has to know.

[fandammit]

Someone to Stay [2/2]

The Boys, Frenchie x Kimiko. Perhaps this is the softest thing I’ve ever written. 

Part 1 || On Ao3 

“So lemme get this straight,” Butcher says, looking back and forth between him and Kimiko. “The two of you are gonna go out and risk blowin’ our cover, just so's you can buy your little girlfriend a pretty new outfit?”

“Kimiko,” he replies, elongating her name, “can’t just keep wearing my clothes."

"And why the fuck not? I don't hear her complaining about 'em."

He scowls. Never before has he wanted to punch Monsieur Charcuter the way he does right now.

"She deserves something of her own.”

“And, uh, besides,” Hughie jumps in as he puts his phone down and stands up from the bed. “A-Train saw her in that outfit. She’s more at risk blowing our cover wearing it than she is going out and getting new clothes.”

He shoots Hughie a surprised look, then glances over at Kimiko, who's also looking over at Hughie with something almost like a smile on her lips.  

"He's got a point, you know," M.M. calls out from the other side of the crowded room.

Butcher glares at all four of them one by one, but then must decide it isn't worth putting his foot down on this one.

"Do what you want, but if you two get caught, I'm not bailing your asses out."

Butcher turns away from them and goes to sit at the desk in the corner of the room, muttering curses under his breath.  

He'll be in a foul mood for the whole night most likely, but Frenchie doesn't care -- he'd been planning to take Kimiko shopping before everything went to shit, and he's glad that even if everything is fucked, she'll still be able to have something that's all for her.

"Ready, mon coeur?" He asks, sweeping an arm towards the door.

"Hold on a tick," Butcher barks out from the corner of the room. "Hughie, give her your hoodie to wear. Frenchie, put yours back on." He rolls his eyes at their blank looks. "That yellow fucking hoodie's kind of a statement, yeah? Better for you both if she's not wearing the exact same outfit as when she shattered a fuckin' Supe's leg."

It's as much admission as he's going to get from Butcher that getting new clothes for Kimiko is a good idea, so he doesn't say anything as he waits for Kimiko to shrug out of his hoodie and put on Hughie's.

If his was big on her, then she's practically swimming in Hughie's. The ends reach almost down to her knees, and she has to fold the cuffs three times to get them to stay above her wrists.

"It's only for a little while, mon coeur," he says once they're outside of the stuffy hotel room. She's looking glumly at the hoodie she's wearing and sneaking glances at his. "We can get you one that fits while we're out."

But she just shakes her head at that and looks at his jacket, then shyly up at him.  

"Oh," he says after a moment. "You like this one?"

She lifts her shoulder in a half shrug, her hand waving in his direction, then coming down to rest on the fabric of his jacket somewhere above his heart.

I like that it's yours, he thinks he can hear her saying. Or perhaps hopes she is.

"It's yours, mon coeur," he says, putting his hand over hers. By the way she smiles, he doesn't think the double meaning is lost on her.

----------

She picks out two pairs of jeans, three shirts, a soft pair of shorts he assumes are meant for sleeping and a pair of shoes in record time, catching his eye and smiling every time she picks out a new item. It makes him wonder how long she's been wanting to do something like this -- something just for herself and for her to own.

He decides to take her again once they're safe, ignoring the part of him that wonders if that'll ever come again.

They're heading back toward the check out lines when he sees her slow down, her eyes widening at the wide display of nail polish.

He stops and smiles at her.

"Get something, mon coeur." He nods towards the display. "We may not get another chance like this again for quite some time."  

She looks furtively around the store, then gives him a close lipped smile that’s gone almost as quickly as it appears. It’s as if she’s wary of revealing too much to anyone that isn’t him. She practically skips over to the long rows of nail polish and brushes her hands over the rainbow of colors, fingertips flitting over the blues and greens, gentle as a butterfly alighting on a flower.

After a few minutes, she comes back with two bottles in her hands -- one orange-red, the other a deep, rich purple he'd called plum.

She lifts up the orange-red in front of her, showing it to him, then resting it over her heart.

“This is your favorite color?” He asks.

She nods.

“Ah,” he says, storing that fact away for himself before reaching out and tapping the plum colored bottle. "And you know -- this one is my favorite color."

She glances down at it, then back up at him, a questioning look in her eyes.

He nods at her.

“Truly, it is.”  

She beams at him, and all he can think in that moment is how he wishes he could bottle up the delighted look in her eyes and uncap it for himself on dark and dreary days.

----------

They walk back slowly to the hotel, their hoods drawn low against their foreheads. He's carrying their bag of goodies in one hand, his other arm hanging loose at his side, brushing up against Kimiko’s.

The streets are relatively empty -- it's the middle of the work day and the sky is threateningly gray -- so he doesn’t pay attention to the fact that they’re taking up most of the sidewalk.

So it’s on him when an impatient pedestrian rushes between them, knocking his shoulder into him and Kimiko just hard enough that it seems deliberate, then speeding away.

It startles her, the movement causing the wide-eyed wonder to slip from her face, her expression retreating into something more ferocious as she narrows her eyes at the man now a few feet ahead of her.

He steps smoothly in front of her just as she starts to go into a crouch and drops the bag to the side of him. His hands are extended out in front of him, but he makes sure not to touch her.

“Mon coeur,” he says, leaning to the side to take up her line of sight. He waits until she drags her eyes away from where she’s looking beyond him and gives her a gentle smile when she finally meets his gaze. “Mon coeur, it’s ok.”

She’s breathing hard, her weight shifting from one foot to another. The ferocious look is gone from her eyes though, replaced by something closer to confusion and fear, and his heart breaks a little at the sight of it.

“We’re ok,” he says with a smile, slowly putting his hands out and resting them on her shoulders. “Everything is ok, mon coeur.”

Her breathing slows as she straightens back out, and she wraps her hands around his for a moment before she nods at him.  

He gives her shoulders a squeeze before he lets go, then bends down to pick up their Target bag. She still seems hesitant to go, so he drapes an arm over her shoulders and gently tugs her forward.  

They walk in comfortable silence for a while, her Target bag looped around one of his arms, his other resting loosely along the line of her shoulders.

To anyone else watching them, they probably look like some random couple coming back from running errands. Perhaps they're going home to make dinner together -- she'll cut the onions, he will make the sauce, they'll both do the dishes. He lets himself live inside that fantasy for a moment, pretending that they're heading back to a modest two bedroom apartment with a balcony for him to smoke on (because she doesn't like him to smoke in the apartment), rather than two fugitives walking back to a dingy, crowded hotel room.

Speaking of --

"Mon coeur, you know this hotel room, it, ah --." He fiddles with the handles on the bag before continuing. "Well, there are only two beds and five of us, no?" She nods, waiting for him to continue. "Well, Monsieur Charcuter will sleep on the extra cot, he has said this already. Which leaves the four of us with two beds between us."

She doesn't slow her step or vary her movements as what he's asking her becomes clear, just leans slightly into him and dips her head down to rest briefly on his shoulder.

He takes a deep breath and nods at her, turning his head to catch her eye.

"And this is ok with you? I can sleep on the floor, mon coeur. This is nothing to me."  

She shakes her head; then, after a moment’s hesitation, she lifts her hand up to where his is dangling off her shoulder and twines her fingers with his.

It’s the most overtly affectionate gesture she’s made in public, and the act of it causes warmth to unfold in his chest and seep down through his fingers. He smiles down at her, pressing his fingertips into the indentations between her knuckles.

Maybe they aren’t heading back to their modest two bedroom apartment to make dinner together, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re more than just two fugitives who are on the run.

----------

She falls asleep before him.

Her hands are tucked beneath her head, and her knees are pulled up towards her chest. She remains so still that eventually he stops what he’s doing and sits and watches her just to make sure he can detect the rise and fall of her breathing.

He wonders if she’s worried about sharing the bed with him after all, and if he should just go ahead and grab a pillow to sleep on the floor. But then he studies the way she’s wrapped in on herself, how she hovers just on the edge of the bed -- as if she’s trying to take as little space as possible.

It dawns on him then that she’s not trying to get away from him -- she’s trying to remain as invisible and unnoticed as possible. That she’s somehow trained herself to do so even in her sleep cracks open his chest and makes him want to both wrap himself around her and throw open the doors to find the fuckers who did this to her.

“So, the staring at her while she sleeps thing has gone from almost sweet to definitely creepy, Frenchie,” M.M. murmurs from somewhere behind him.  

He turns and stares at M.M., who’s laying down with his head propped up, scrolling through his phone.

“It’s not right -- what those fuckers did to her.” He shakes his head and glances over at Kimiko before turning to face M.M. “I’d rip them apart if I found them.”

“Pretty sure your girlfriend could do a better job of that than you could.”

He gives a small smile at the other man, then nods.

“Of course you’d find that charming,” M.M. says with a sardonic shake of his head. He sets his phone down on his chest and motions towards Kimiko’s sleeping figure. “You sure you’re ok to sleep next to her?”

He nods, almost offended that the other man even asked.

“I asked her earlier, of course.”

But M.M. shakes his head.

“No, Frenchie, I mean --.” He raises an eyebrow. “Like, are you safe sleeping next to her?”

Now he is definitely offended.

“She would never hurt me.”

M.M. shakes his head.

“She would never mean to hurt you, that I believe.” He gives a small half shrug. “But you know your girl’s got problems.”

It bothers him the way M.M. doesn’t say her name -- like she’s not really a person, just an outline of one.

An argument for another day, though. Because right now all he says is --

“She wouldn’t hurt me.”

M.M. sighs and shakes his head.

“Alright, man. But you should know that I’m going to take advantage of my right to say I told you so if you wake me up in the middle of the night and need me to patch up your fucking stomach because you accidentally brushed up against her when you didn’t mean to and she freaked the fuck out.”

----------

He’s always been a light sleeper, so he wakes up as soon as he feels Kimiko bolt upwards in bed.

“Mon coeur?” He asks, sitting up. He’s still half-asleep and slow to process the world around him slowly, which is the only reason he reaches out to touch her shoulder while she’s still turned away from him.

Her reaction is immediate. She’s turned around and facing him, crouched on all fours so fast that he thinks she must have a chance at competing for the title of fastest Supe.

There’s a snarl on her face that renders it near unrecognizable in the pre-dawn light; he can tell by her expression that while she’s looking at him, she isn’t really seeing him.

She climbs on top of him, pinning him to the bed with her legs. She lifts her hands above her, fingers pointing straight down at him. He shoots his hands up and grabs her wrists, his grip firm without being crushing.

“Mon coeur, it’s me.”

Her gaze falters, the snarl fading into a scowl.  

“Kimiko,” he says softly. “It’s ok.”

At the sound of her name, she blinks, her hands going slack in his grip. She takes a deep breath and shakes her head --  once, twice -- then closes her eyes. When she opens them, her eyes are clear, her mouth slack.

She stares down at him, really taking him in for the first time since she woke up. Then, her eyes go wide, trained on him long enough for him to see horror and shame seep into her expression.

She scrambles backwards off of him and drops to the floor. He quickly follows her, but still too slow to see anything but her feet disappearing underneath the bed.

He steps quietly over to the side and lowers himself down. The space between the side of the bed and the wall is just barely wide enough for him to lay flat on his stomach and turn his head to face her.

She’s laying with her arms crushed beneath her chest with her face turned away from him, taking quick, panicked breaths that are shallow and shaky at the edges

He doesn’t reach out for her; instead, he scoots closer to the edge of the bed, focusing on making his voice as gentle and soothing as possible.

“It’s ok. Everything is ok.”

She takes another tremulous breath and shakes her head. Her breathing is so shallow now that he’s afraid she’ll pass out.

“Mon coeur, look at me please?” She doesn’t move, and now that his eyes have adjusted to the dark, he can see that she’s trembling.

“Please, mon coeur?” He repeats. “Please.”

The last word is pleading, desperate almost, and after a long, agonizing moment, she finally turns her head to face him.

There are tears running down her face, and her eyes are filled with a self-loathing that is as familiar as it is unwarranted.

He slowly brings his hand up to his side, the palm out facing her. Slowly, by inches and centimeters, he brings it up to her face and rests it gently against her cheek.  

Her expression crumples as she closes her eyes, the tears falling fast onto the floor beneath her.

He brushes his thumb against the curve of her cheekbone, and though the tears continue to fall, he’s at least relieved to see her breathing slow down and even out a bit.

“It’s ok, mon coeur. I’m ok.” He brushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “We’re ok.”

She takes a deep, shuddering breath before she opens her eyes, and in her expression he can hear the words as clear as if she’d spoken them out loud.

I could have hurt you.

He shakes his head.

“But you didn’t.” He gives her a soft smile. “You remembered me.” He returns his hand to her cheek, brushing his thumb back and forth against her skin. “You remembered who you are.”

She blinks back tears, her eyes wide and sorrowful.

And who am I?

He smiles at her.

“You’re Kimiko, mon coeur.” He cups her face in his hand. “You lived by the ocean once -- a place where palm trees stood in front of the moon at night. Your favorite color is a shade of orange like the sunset, and you like the combination of citrus and chocolate.” He trails his fingertips along the edge of her hairline. “You could’ve chosen to leave, but instead you stayed. You could’ve been a weapon, but instead you chose to be a protector.” He brushes the back of his fingers along the ridge of her brows and down the slope of her jaw. “You are a miracle who saved my life.”

There are tears in her eyes still, but not -- he thinks -- from shame or sorrow.

She moves a hand out from under her and presses her palm against his cheek.  

And you?

He gives her a small smile.

“I am from near the ocean too, mon coeur.” He takes a deep breath, trying to remember the scent of salt in the air. “No palm trees, though, only rocks.” He settles into the floor, threading his fingers through Kimiko’s hair. “My favorite color is the purple of the sky right before it turns to night, and I never eat chocolate mixed with marshmallows because it reminds me of mon père.” She lifts her hand and dots her fingertips across the edges of his forehead, mimicking the path his own fingers took with her. “The first thing I did when I was finally free of him was cook my own meal. To cook -- it reminds me that I am free.” He smiles at her. “I think if I was not doing this, I would be a chef.”  He shifts his head so that his lips are against the open palm of her hand, gently pressing them against her skin. “But if I was not doing this, then I would not have met you. And my life could not have been saved the way you have saved it.”

----------

He can’t picture the house he grew up in any more or the color of his mother’s eyes. He doesn’t think he’ll ever really remember what home smelled like or the tune of the lullaby his mother would sing to him before he fell asleep.

But it doesn’t hurt like it used to.

Because now when he thinks of home, what he thinks of is this:

Kimiko’s smile as she bites into a chocolate lime; the way her mouth turns up at the edges even before the candy touches her lips. How he can smell her strawberry scented shampoo in any one of his hoodies, and the way she leaves cherry flavored chapsticks in nearly every room of whatever shitty safehouse they’re staying in.  

He no longer wonders about the way back home, the shape and structure of it, how to fill the aching for it in his heart.

Home is not lost any longer. There is no route to find, no aching hole in his heart to fill.

There is him, and there is Kimiko, and there is peace amidst the chaos of what they do.

It is all the home he needs.

[davieslandon]

DISCORD THREAD || JO & LANDON

Discord thread featuring: @kingsborojo & Landon

When: August 19th

Mentions: none

Description: Landon and Jo meet up and talk for the first time in a long time. 

Trigger Warnings: None

Jo

She felt like she was going to hurl, or worse. Josephine knew that moving to Kingsboro meant that she was going to have to have an honest conversation with Landon. He was one of the main reasons why she wanted to move here, to try and reconnect with the brother whom she hadn't seen in forever. That, and also try to launch a music career in the states. She had some mixed emotions about moving here, but she felt like it was the right decision to do right now. Making her way to Landon's place, the brunette could feel her heart beat a million times a minute it seemed, her anxiety through the roof. The girl knocked on his door and simply waited for a response. What was he going to say? Would it be bad? It was a good thing that Elle wasn't around, it's not like she would actually remember what she looks like.

LANDON

Landon wasn’t expecting his little sister to tell him she was moving to Kingsboro. They’d been close when they were growing up but drifted off when Landon moved to New York for college. There was a brief period of time where they reconnected but that was more because of her pregnancy and his role in taking care of her daughter than anything else. Now that she was back, he had so many questions. Landon wanted to reconnect with his sister but he was also scared of what that would mean for Elle. That’s why he made sure his daughter was nowhere around for their first talk. It was better to discuss some things before he brought Elle into the picture. As soon as he heard the knock on the door, Landon went to open it and directed a hesitant smile towards his sister. “Hey.”

Jo

As Landon opened the door for her, her level of her nervousness sure didn’t lower at all. In fact, it probably only got worse. She was hesitant to make her way in through the doorway, signing deeply. Jo was desperately wishing for this conversation to go but, but who knew right now. “Hi yourself,” she said in a low voice. “How have you been?”

LANDON

Now that was probably the question of the day. There was so much Jo hadn’t been around for. At this point, most of his close friends probably knew him better than his own sister did and that was quite an upsetting thought but he didn’t want to dampen the mood of the conversation so soon and settled on the basics. “I’ve been good, what about you?” he asked, inviting her in and leading her to the living room. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Jo

”I’m pretty good,” Jo lied through her teeth as she took in the surroundings around her. Landon has gotten himself a pretty nice place for him and little Ellie. She could tell that clearly, he cared so much about his daughter. “I guess...you can get me a water? Yeah, a water,” she spoke. She just wanted this done and over with.

LANDON

It was pretty obvious that they were both very uncomfortable right now but Landon knew this was a conversation that needed to happen. They couldn’t put it off any longer, especially since he was now kind of worried after his little conversation with Harry. What if his ex-husband was right and Jo wanted Elle for herself now? “Sure, water coming right up. You can make yourself comfortable and...sorry about all the toys. I tried to clean up but it’s hard with a five year old always running around.”

Jo

Jo looked around the living room and kitchen a bit more ,seeing all the little pictures of Elle and her toys. Fuck, her toys. She really couldn't believe she was already five. It felt like just the other day that she was giving birth to her and seeing her precious little face for the first time in that hospital bed. Now, she was a full grown kid who had no idea who her mom was. She felt gutted in that moment. "Oh, it's fine. Your place really isn't that messy, don't worry about it," she decided to take a seat on the couch.

LANDON

Landon could see his sister looking around and he left her to it as he went to get her a glass of water. Once he got back, he handed it to her and took a seat in front of Jo. He couldn’t deny that this was really awkward and he wished he could somehow make it a little more comfortable but it was hard when everything was so complicated. “So...I wasn’t expecting you to move to Kingsboro”, he said, trying to start a conversation.

Jo

Jo tried her best to relax a little bit now that she was just sitting next to her older brother on the couch. Taking the glass of water, she took a small sip before placing it onto the coffee table. She turned her head and looked over at Landon. “I know, I wasn’t really expecting it either myself. I don’t know, I just felt like I needed a new change of pace.”

LANDON

While Landon could understand needing a little change from the usual everyday life, he was still confused over his sister’s choice of Kingsboro, of all places. She knew it was were he lived and that Elle was with him pretty much everyday.  Any other day he would have accepted that and moved on, but this was different. It was going to have an affect on his daughter whether he liked it or not. “Makes sense but...why Kingsboro? You knew I was here with Elle.”

Jo

"I think," she began to speak, trying her very best to carefully pick her words. This entire situation was beyond complicated and she could assume that Landon was still wondering why his younger sister had came all the way here. "Just....I want to try and fix....our relationship? I want.....to be closer with you again," she admitted. "I've been thinking really long and hard about it, Landon. I'm so sorry for being so....distant."

LANDON

Landon had imagined that it was something along those lines but he was still unsure of what to feel. It’s not that he enjoyed feeling so distant from his sister but life moved on for him while they were so far apart. He built a whole life for himself with Elle and now he wasn’t sure how Jo was going to fit in. “That’s...nice. Sometimes I kind of feel like you kept in contact more with my friends than you did with me”, he admitted.

Jo

Jo chewed on her bottom lip, hating that Landon felt this way about their relationship. She had wanted to reach out to him so much sooner, but she had been absolutely terrified of the possible outcomes. Not to mention, the thought of Elle being in the picture didn’t help. “I....am sorry about that. So much, I know it might not seem like I am, but I’m serious,” she confessed.

LANDON

Landon nodded in understanding. He believed his sister and knew that she wouldn’t have come all the way to Kingsboro if she wasn’t being serious. “I know you are. I guess I just thought you resented me because of Elle even though...well you asked me to do that.” Not that he regretted it, Elle was his whole world.

Jo

God, now she was feeling even worse about everything. He thought that she resented him? To be fair, her attitude and overall lack of communication towards her could point to that idea. “I never resented you...,” she spoke. “I....I just needed time away from everybody. You have done an amazing job taking care of Elle, you stepped up and did something a lot of people probably wouldn’t do,” she muttered.

LANDON

Landon could understand why she would feel like that. Getting pregnant at such a young age and in the situation that she was in...it couldn’t have been easy. And it wasn’t really easy for him either because he was only twenty two when it happened and recently married. But at least he could support himself no Elle in ways that Jo couldn’t at the time. “I’m glad to hear that and...yeah, I tried my best and I think we’re doing well. Elle’s the most important person in my life, I would do anything for her.” That was really something he wanted his sister to know. “I...haven’t told her the whole truth yet. She’s still so young and I wasn’t sure she would understand if I tried but she knows about you. She calls you Auntie Jo.”

Jo

"I know.....how much you care about her," she nodded her head, feeling herself grow more nervous. God, this conversation was so much harder than she thought it would be. Fuck. Her heart sank a bit when he mentioned how she called her Auntie. She should be calling her Momma, yet she hasn't earned that title quite yet. She was far too much of a coward. "How....how much does she know about me, Landon? If anything at all?" she asked.

LANDON

This was the part of the conversation that Landon was dreading. Because while he loved his sister, his priority was, and always would be, Elle. If it came to choosing between them, Elle would always be his first choice. He hadn’t let Harry, her dad, just waltz back into her life when he came to Kingsboro and he definitely didn’t plan on doing that with Jo. Not when she’d spent years without even asking how his daughter was doing. Elle was his daughter and that wasn’t going to change. “She knows you’re my sister...her aunt. And that you were staying in London and traveling for work. That’s...pretty much it.”

Jo

"I was expecting that," she sighed. Landon was such a good dad to little Elle and was wise with whom he let into her life or not. She would have wanted the same thing for her if she was actually in her custody. "I...I'm glad you didn't tell her about anything else. She's still a little young," she confessed. "God, I just can't believe it's really been five fuckin' years. man."

LANDON

"She is", he confirmed with a nod. Landon wasn't sure how he was ever going to be able to tell his daughter that she wasn't technically his and that her aunt was actually her mother. He was lucky enough that they were surrounded by untraditional families like theirs and so Elle rarely ever asked about why she didn't have a mum. She had him and Harry and that was enough to her for now but Landon wasn't under any impressions that it wouldn't change, especially with her starting school in a few weeks. That was a bridge he would cross when they got to it. "I know, time goes by really quickly. She's going to be starting school in September and that's just...it's crazy. She's growing up so fast." Even with all the worries and anxieties that came with his sister's return, he was still so happy to see her again. Jo was his little sister and he missed her. "If you ever stay out of touch for so long again I'll come to find you and drag you here myself, just so you know."

Jo

Their conversation didn't seem to be getting any easier as they were transitioning into more difficult topics.....aka Elle. She knew all too well that she could come up in conversation, but it was still hell just hearing her name. Josephine simply nodded her head as Landon continued to speak fondly of his daughter. "I....don't plan on it, Landon. I swear. I don't want to be the person I was five years ago....," she confessed.

LANDON

It was nice to know that Jo seemed determined to change and he wanted to believe her but he was too affected by past experiences. He didn't want to trust her and get Elle involved only for things to turn to shit later. It was a lesson that he learned from Loren, feeling grateful every day that their relationship didn't progress to his ex meeting Elle before they broke up. "I'm glad and...it's nice to have you back, it really is."

Jo

"I'm glad you feel that way," she sighed, running a hand through her wavy hair. Alright, so maybe this conversation was getting a little better. Even just slightly. "I would like to maybe meet up again soon sometime? Maybe after I'm settled in a bit more? We can always talk about things more in depth?" she suggested. "Whatever you want to do, Landon."

LANDON

Landon knew that there was a lot they still needed to talk about. His sister didn’t know Harry had to leave New York again and there was definitely more that needed to say about Elle but as far as first conversations go, it had gone well. Landon just hoped they could keep going on the same track in future conversations. “Sure, that sounds good to me. Do you need any help getting settled?”

[madamsixx]

Beyond The Leather Chapter 2: Bad Boys

Warnings: Explicit Language

May, 30th 1984, New York

I was done filming for today and had arrived back at my hotel. I didn't feel tired and wanted to go out exploring like I did the weeks earlier when I first came to New York.

"Come oooooooon Tamara please come out with me." I said grabbing her arm.

My manager Tamara who is 33 was my gaurdian whenever I would have to travel. We became really close and Tamara built a good relationship and trust with my family. We both considered each other as friends but we somtimes had a mom and daughter relationship, I liked it.

"Honey I would only go out with you if you were getting a manicure and pedi." Tamara said while looking at her nails. "Why don't you ask my assistant Theresa to go exploring with you?"

"Because she's not as fun as you, besides you have alot of fun with me when we do go out." I walked and sat on Tamara's lap and put her arms around me.

Tamara kissed the top of my head. "How about this, you go out for today with my assistant and then tomorrow I'll go out with you?"

"Ugh, fiiiiiiiiinnnnne." I said getting off of her lap. I stopped to grab my book and headed out the door. ___________

I had no intention of knocking on the assistances door. I was going to go out on my own. Not too many people knew who I was, but there were some that recognized me when I walked the streets. I had walked for a while until I reached alittle diner called Mendoza. It was small with not much people in there and I liked it. I took a seat in the booth and waited for the waiter while grabbing a menu.

"Hi good afternoon Ms what can I get for you?"

"Ummmm, could I get the double cheeseburger with medium fries and this strawberry shake?" I said smiling with all teeth showing. "It looks good."

I knew I wasn't aloud to eat all that much food, so I settled on something small.

"Sure thing, anything else for you Ms?"

"No that will be all thank you."

The waiter brought my food, the smell of it alone had me tackling the food like I was a football player. When I was done I moved my tray to the side, brought out my book The Tailsmen By Stephen King and started reading. It had only been a couple minutes of reading when the door to the diner burst open and in came walking a bunch of guys wearing spikes and leather. There was about 8 of them and they all packed themselves around a table close to me. The waiter came up and took there orders then went back to get there food.

"Check out that chick, fuck shes hot." One of the guys stated.

"Hey I think I've seen her before, like in a movie or something."

"Hey princess." One of the guys started calling out. "Princess are you ignoring me?"

The boys started laughing, hollering, whistling, and making remarks towards me, but I refused to give them any attention. Something Tamara had taught me was to never give disrespectful men your attention. I stuck by that. I kept my face plastered into the book but held my lady like posture.

"What a bitch she's a fucking cunt." Stated one of the guys.

The waiter brought over the boys food. "Here ya go boys just wanted to let you know that I'm a... I'm a...big big big fan." He said while scratching his head.

"Thanks man we love our fans." The one guy grabbed a napkin and signed it for him.

"Wow thanks Nikki appreciate it." The waiter took the napkin and left.

All of a sudden fries came flying one by one hitting me in the head. The boys snickered while they were doing it. I decided to get up and move tables to be far far away from them. As I got up the boys stopped and stared at me. I looked at them with disbelief and annoyance. One guy in particular the "Nikki" guy glared at me with hunger.

What a pig!!

"She looks like a rich snob, like one of those girls who thinks shes better than everyone else." The guy with curly brown hair said.

"She moved away from us maybe we should just leave her alone guys." The tall big blonde guy stated. "I mean our food is here let's just eat." He grabbed his burger and took a bite.

The Nikki guy got up and brought his drink over with him to my booth.

"Hey Sixx just leave her alone." The tall one with teased brown hair said while giggling.

"Hey princess whachya reading?" The nikki guy asked with a smirk on his face.

"A book." I replied in a monotone voice.

"What kind of book princess?"

"A book which requires silence." I stated with the same voice.

"Y'know its rude to not look at someone when they're talking to you princess." He states as his voice got a bit louder.

I could tell he was getting aggravated and angry. More so cause I wasnt giving into what he wanted. Which was my attention.

"Hm you really are a snobby little bitch aren't ya." Crossing his arms and leaning back on the chair with that same smirk.

I finally looked up at him, he had black dyed teased hair with red streaks on the right side, he had piercing green eyes that shot daggers at me, and I couldn't even lie he was attractive. But im young, and even if I wasn't he would definitely not be my type of guy. I would never associate my self with somone like him. I mean.... what is he??? And I still wasnt going to give him my attention. I waved my hand signaling for the waiter.

"Hi can I have my bill please this place is packed with dogs and losers with no respect and I can't focus on my reading, thank you." I smirked while looking at the Nikki guy.

The waiter stared at me then at the Nikki guy. "Focus on this you cunt." He said as he splashed his drink in my face.

"You bastard." Forget about not getting my attention...he got it!! "How dare you!" I leaped over the table and grabbed his hair and started swinging my fist. I also grabbed my purse and started hitting him with it.

That was a bad idea because my stuff inside my purse started flying everywhere. His boys ended up running to the table trying to separate us and hollering and laughing.

"Get this fucking crazy bitch off me Robbin NOW!"

I yelped as somone grabbed me off of the table and had me dangling in the air with my feet not touching the ground. This guy was big and really tall.

"Hey I'm gonna call the police!" One customer yelled.

"Fuck off." A short blonde guy said.

"Alright boys let's go, shes a physco bitch." The nikki guy said as he fixed himself up. The boys headed for the door.

I bent down to start picking up my stuff off the ground. How dare these guys treat me like that. They obviously didn't grow up with home training. What a bunch of...

"I can help you pick your stuff up."

My thoughts were interrupted by the guy who had me dangling in the air.

"Thank you but no thanks, you better head out with the rest of your friends." I said looking up at him.

"I'm very sorry for how we treated you it wasn't right and I'm.. I'm really sorry." He said helping me to my feet.

What a gentleman.

"I'm Robbin... Robbin Crosby." He stuck his hand out for me to shake.

"I'm Iman Darlington nice to meet you." I replied taking his hand and shaking it.

The door burst open again revealing the very angry Nikki guy who splashed the drink in my face.

"Robbin leave that fucking crazy bitch and let's fuckin go!" He banged on the door. Robbin let my hand go and ran out.

I went to the front counter and called Tamara's assistant Theresa to come and pick me up. As I got into the car I told her everything that happened. She was shocked and couldn't believe it. Neither could I. We got back to the hotel and some stuff of mine were missing. I couldn't find my book or key. So I stayed in Theresa's room for the night. I also asked her not to tell Tamara anything that happened and she agreed. I showered and got into bed with Theresa. I hoped to God that I would never have to see those hooligans again.

[bakugousmyboy]

when the party’s over Dabi x Reader Song Fic

Listen to when the party’s over by Billie Eilish (link below) on repeat while you read for maximum Hurt™                              https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6WNdcZpDhQ

_________________________________________________

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me Y/n!”

Don’t you know I’m no good for you?

The sound of the bathroom door slamming shut was his only response in the now silent apartment you both called home. Just because you’d slammed the door in his face didn’t mean this conversation was over in his book. “You can’t really have believed that this whole time. Hey! Are you listening to me?!” His hand hit the wall beside the door when no answer came. “Baby! I told you right from the start what I was and you said you didn’t care! I told you I wasn’t gonna change and you said that was fine!”

I’ve learned to lose, you can’t afford to

You sat with your back against the door listening to him yell. Tears rushed down your face but you made no sound, your shoulders didn’t shake. You were far beyond that point. This felt numb, you felt numb. He was right, you had said those things. You’d known from the beginning that he was a villain and it truly hadn’t mattered to you then. But that felt like a lifetime ago, you’d fallen in love with him since then. “Why is this so important to you all of a sudden? I don’t even see why this matters!”

Tore my shirt to stop you bleedin’

The door was suddenly thrown open and there you stood with tears streaming down your face but what caused him to take a step back was the emotion in your eyes. You looked like fury incarnate. “You wanna know why it matters Dabi,” you spat his villain name like venom. “This is why it fuckin matters!” You shoved dried bloodstained cloths in his face, most of it was bandages and washcloths but amongst them was one of your shirts. “Since you’ve apparently forgotten I’ll remind you! You stumbled in here not even a week ago bleeding and barely conscious for the third time this month!” 

But nothin’ ever stops you leavin’

He keeps his expression a mask of neutrality which only furthers the white-hot rage coursing through your very being. “And then every time I’m done patching you up you just fucking leave without a word and you're gone for days!” The only response you received was a bored blink, “And once you’re back you act like nothing happened! Like you weren’t bleeding all over me and the chair and the floor! Like I don’t stay up all night every time making sure you stay breathing!” You were shaking now, “Like when you walk out that fucking door I don’t wonder the entire time you’re gone whether or not you’re gonna come back in one piece! Or hell if you’ll even come back at all! Maybe you’d end up bleeding out in some alley and that’s why you wouldn’t answer my calls, not that I’d ever know. No, I’d be asking myself if you stayed gone because of something that I’d done wrong. I’m done.”

Don’t you know too much already?

He raised an eyebrow and his tone was condescending as he spoke, “You’re done? You mean you’re done with me? You’re gonna leave me is that it?” You wiped your tears. “Don’t you fucking dare patronize me. You really don’t get it, do you? I love you! I want a life with you! I want a future with you! And you don’t think that stumbling into my apartment wounded at four in the morning is a problem?” A muscle in his jaw feathered, “Oh it’s your apartment now?” Your hands clenched in anger, that was what got him? “My name is the only one on the lease because we can’t use your real name, can we T-” 

I’ll only hurt you if you let me

“Don’t. Say. It” His voice was stern as he cut you off. His eyes were sharp and held quiet anger, “I told you when we got together, my career comes first above all else, no exceptions. You and my health included. If that bothers you then that’s your fuckin problem, not mine.” That stung and you couldn’t, wouldn’t hide it. His eyes softened when he saw you wince and he reached out to comfort you. “Baby I didn’t-” you slapped his hand away and new tears began to prick in your eyes. Your voice was strained from yelling but still held strong as you interrupted him, “No. No. I said that I’m done and you clearly don’t give a shit.”

Call me friend, but keep me closer (call me back)

You brushed past him, grabbed a bag, and started packing your things. He stood there stunned, mouth agape watching you for a moment. After what felt like an eternity his voice cut through the suffocating silence,  “So that's it. You’re really walking out on me.” You froze dead in your tracks and turned to face him, staring him dead in the eyes. You could see a flash of hope in his eyes, you almost gave in. Almost. You tried to make your eyes cold and your voice colder, “You walked out on me first.”

And I’ll call you when the party’s over

Your words landed on him like a blow. You could see the tears brimming in his eyes and his lower lip tremble just slightly before his voice came out harsh, “I did not walk out on you, I have never walked out on you. That’s not what those times were. I left every time you took care of me because I didn’t want to put you in danger or under suspicion, you know that.” You could feel your resolve weakening as he looked at you with teary, pleading eyes. “If that’s true and you want me to stay then stop. Just promise me you’ll stop.”

Quiet when I’m coming home and I’m on my own

“I can’t. I can’t just stop now, even if I wanted to. I mean, I have a bounty on my head Y/n, that’s not just gonna go away because I suddenly decided to stop. Besides, you know I’m not just doing this because I want to.” Your voice came out soft and resigned, “Then who are you doing this for? Because it’s not for me and it’s not for you.” His expression changed to one of exasperation and frustration. “I’m following Stain’s ideals for a better world, you know that.” You couldn’t hold back your scoff as you shook your head and kept packing.

And I could lie, say I like that, like it like that

He was angry now and you could feel it permeating off of him like a cloud of smoke. “Ya know what? Fine. Go. Leave. I don’t need you and I know for a fact that I was better off before you! I had less stress, fewer problems. I didn’t realize how good I had it.” You didn’t bother to indulge him with a response of any kind to his obvious bait as you placed your bag on the bed to make sure you had everything you needed from the bedroom. Going over your mental checklist you ignored his stare as you walked into the bathroom to grab the last of what you’d need, closing the door behind you.

But nothin’ is better sometimes

As soon as you closed the bathroom door he felt his throat begin to tighten and the tears fell despite his best efforts to keep them at bay, despite how badly he tried not to feel anything. This couldn’t be happening. You couldn’t be leaving him. Not after everything you’d been through. Not after all of the love and time you’d shared. His eyes started to wander around the room and immediately began taking note of the things that were missing, the things that were now in your bag. Your notebook, some clothes, a jacket, the picture that you kept on the bedside table.

Once we’ve both said our goodbyes

You came out of the bathroom to find him sitting on the edge of the bed holding the picture you’d put in your bag. It was the only picture you two had taken together, it had taken a lot of convincing from you. He didn’t usually like taking pictures and even if he did want to, he didn’t want you having a picture with him to come back on you should the police somehow trace him back to you. You stood in the threshold for a moment taking him in, he looked utterly defeated. His face was hidden by his hair but his shoulders shook and you could see the teardrops fall onto the glass protecting the picture.

Let’s just let it go

Slowly you walked over and placed the items you’d gathered from the bathroom into your bag that sat next to him. You made sure you had everything one last time before you zipped the bag and slung it over your shoulder. You looked at him one last time before heading for the front door. If you didn’t leave now you weren’t sure you’d be able to without breaking down first. Your hand reached for the door when he spoke, voice raw and breaking as he made his way toward you, “Please. Please don’t go. Let's just forget about it for now and we can talk about it in the morning. If you still love me please stay.” 

Let me let you go

You turned to find him within reach, tears cascading from his blue eyes with no sign of stopping, the eyes you loved to fall asleep and wake up to. Shaking the thought from your head you brought your hand up to his face in an attempt to banish the tears, “That’s why I have to leave. I love you. I love you so, so much. That’s why I can’t sit here and keep watching you put yourself through this hell until you either get arrested or killed. I can’t. I won’t. I’m sorry.” You pushed back his hair and leaned up to give his forehead one firm, final kiss before you turned and walked out the door.

Quiet when I'm coming home and I'm on my own

The tears you'd been fighting back fell fast now and the chilly wind only made them bite into your skin more. You couldn’t stop the sobs as they fell from your lips, nor your thoughts of doubt as they ran rampant in your already loud mind. You just had to keep walking and no matter what not look back. Your legs carried you to the nearby bus stop and you forced yourself to sit. Whether you were worried or relieved that your phone didn’t get a single notification, you weren't sure.

I could lie say, I like it like that, like it like that

As soon as you left, the warmth and light in the apartment that had been your home left with you. He was now sitting on the bed, the picture still in hand with nothing but his mind to keep him company. Some of his favorite memories had been made in this place, in this home. The only real home he’d ever known with filled with the only real love he’d ever felt. The good memories that hadn’t been made here had still been made with you. All of them seemed to come rushing back and all he could do was sit there on the bed in this suddenly seemingly empty skeleton of a home and relive them, clutching the last piece of you he had left.

I could lie say, I like it like that, like it like that

[vixenninjaturtle]

TMNT Leo x Female Reader Ch. 6

TMNT Leo x Reader (2016) Ch. 6    You were enjoying your wonderful date with your favorite blue-banded terrapin when suddenly... the evening is rudely interrupted by your drunk asshole of an ex-boyfriend Luck. You and Luck broke up a few years ago back in college because he cheated on you with a family member of yours. Ever since then, he's been trying and begging to get back with you. But you were not having it, and for him to show up at your apartment completely unannounced when you never told him where you lived in the first place made you beyond furious.    You've tried everything you could to get him to leave without losing your temper, but he wouldn't budge. When you tried to force him out, he immediately grabbed your wrists and pinned you against the door with such force your whole almost went numb. This time Luke wasn't begging, he was demanding that you take him back. However, your answer was still no. There was no way in hell that you were allowing a jerk like him back into your life. Using whatever strength you had left, you managed to push Luke just enough to where you could head-butt him and knee in the groin. The moment you both fell to the floor, Luke was whimpering and groaning in pain, you, on the other hand, stumbled over into Leonardo's arms.

"L-Leo..." You spoke in a soft whimper.

"You ok (y/n)?" Leo asked as he looked you over for any bruises.

"Y-yeah... I'm fine."

"Stay behind me... I'll handle this."

   You looked up at Leo and all you see was the rage of fury in his Sapphire blue eyes. Almost like his protective/feral instincts have kicked into high gear. This was your first time seeing him like this and was kinda hot because you were seeing a whole different side of him. But on the other hand, it was also kinda... Scary. Normally he's always so calm and in control of emotions. But this... This was completely new to you. Leo looked like he wanted to kill someone and that someone was standing a few feet away from him. Turns out that Leonardo... The love of your life and the leader of the Hamato Family has a Dark side to him.   

 You continued to stare at Leo for what seemed like an eternity when you heard Luke mumbling under his breath until he started screaming. "Y-you... BITCH... I'LL FUCKIN KILL YOU... YOU HEAR ME?! I'LL KILL YOU!!"    

Just as he was about lunge in to attack you, Leo with his ninja reflex grabbed his wrists, tightening his grip causing him to yelp and fall to his knees.

"What did you say you were going to do to her?" Leo asked his voice getting darker almost sound deadly. "GET THE HELL OFF ME YOU FUCKIN FREAK! THIS IS BETWEEN ME AND MY GIRLFRIEND!" Luke yelled, even more, trying to get his wrist out of Leo's grasp.

"I think not, this beautiful woman wants nothing more to do with you. So my suggestion to you is that you leave immediately while you still have some dignity left. And a friendly word of advice... If you ever threaten her or if I ever catch you around her again... Guarantee the next time we meet... Will be the last time." Leo warned him in a low growl in Lukes' ear.

   Leo released Luke out of his hand making him stumble backward. Clutching his wrist, he glanced over in your direction giving you a very evil glare. He didn't have to say anything but you knew he was saying that he's gonna be back when Leo's not around. Looking out the window, you watched as Luke exited out of the apartment building while still clutching his wrists. Leo then placed his hand on your shoulder, holding you close with his cellphone to his ear.

"Hey, Don?.... Did you get the picture I sent you?.... I'll explain everything when I get there, right now I need you to prep the spare room... Thanks, bro see you in a bit."   

   You kept looking out the window watching as Luke was out of sight allowing you to let out a sigh of relief. You still couldn't believe that he would stoop this low but then again... Yeah, you could. Luke always did get a little out of hand when he's drunk... Just not to this extent. You began to feel sorry for the guy but you had to remember he did this to himself, this whole situation was because of him and now he has to live with the consequences. Still trying to process all that went down, Leo finally spoke up breaking you out of your trance.

"Hey... You ok?" He asked caressing your shoulder.

"Hmm?... Oh yeah, I'm fine... Just trying to figure out how he found me..."

"We'll figure that out later, right now I need you to pack your things."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because I made arrangements for you to stay at the lair for awhile. There's a chance this guy will come back after when I'm not here and I am not willing to take that risk."

"Come on Leo... You know you don't have to look after me, I can take care of myself."

"Yes (y/n) I understand that, but if anything were to happen to you... I-I'll never be able to forgive myself. I... I care about you too much to take that chance. 

       What Leo actually wanted to say is 'I love you' but of course he stopped himself because 1 This was not the best time to say and 2. He was just too afraid for those words to come out of his mouth. You were about to say something when you can see just from looking into his eyes the fear and sadness as he pleaded with you to stay at his place. He wanted more than nothing to keep you safe and this was the best option.

"Please (y/n)... You can still go about your daily routine, the only difference is that you'll be staying in the sewers. Please let me and my family protect you." Leo begged once more holding you in his arms.

   Sighing softly in defeat, you quietly nodded your head to Leo's plea. Immediately Leo's frown turned in to a small smile. "Alright... I'll go pack my stuff." You sighed again before walking into your room.

   Within an hour you and Leo arrived back at the lair and came face to face with his entire family who was obviously really worried plus awaiting for an explanation. Gathering into the common room, Leo took his time to explain what just went down before they arrived.

"So that's why I sent Don of the guy. I want him to-"

"Track down his whereabouts, find out how he found (y/n's) apartment and get a full background history on him. Got it bro, I'm already on it... Anything to help (y/n) out." Don smiled cutting off his brother the proceeded to the lab.

"W-wait guys you don't have to do this... Really I can handle Luke on my own." You rebuttal

   And just like their brother, the boys plus Splinter were not hearing. Especially considering how the whole situation turned out.

"No way Dollface... ain't no way we're gonna let ya deal with this phycho by yourself." Raph argued placing his hand on your shoulder.

"That's right Anglecake, you're one of us now, we gotcha back." Mikey grinned hugging you tightly.

"My sons are right Ms. (l/n), you're now a member of this family. And we never let one of our own go up against danger alone." Splinter assured while stroking his beard.

   Hearing Splinter and guys claiming you as a member of their family instantly brought tears to your eyes that you have fought so hard to hold back. The only family you had was your mom and April, but to be called a member of the Hamato Clan was a true honor and made your heart swell with joy.

"Heh... Thanks everyone so much... For everything." You chuckled wiping away your tears.

   Leo smiled, took you by the hand and led you to the spare bedroom he had Donnie prepare for you. As you walked away with your crush in hand, Don, Raph, Mikey and Master Splinter watched in admiration. Splinter especially, he was really proud and happy that his eldest son found someone to protect and care about deeply. Raph on the other hand..., Although he was happy for his bro deep down he couldn't help but feel a little jealous of him. Raph has always been jealous of Leonardo a.k.a Fearless Leader ever since they were small. And the fact that his big brother now has a new girlfriend, made Raph even more envious. But he decided to push those feelings aside mostly for your sake and Leo's... For now anyway.

   Meanwhile, Leo brought you to the spare room that would be staying for a while. It didn't have much, but there was a bed, a dresser with a mirror and closet. 

"So this is where you'll be staying." Leo spoke as he watched you walk in and look around your new room. "It's not much but-"

"It's perfect Leo thank you... And if you're still worried about being mad at you, don't because I'm not. I know you're only trying to help and look out for my well being." You responded cutting him off. "It's just I've never really had anyone looking out for me it was always the other way around."

   Leo just looked at you while you spoke then sat on the bed. If anyone knew exactly how you felt it was him. He's always been the only looking out for everyone especially his brothers. Making sure they were safe, basically doing anything he could for his brothers... Even it means sacrificing himself for them.

"I know how you feel (y/n) and I know how overbearing that can be. I mean I'm the oldest of my brothers plus the leader of our team. Every night when we go out on patrol or some kind of mission, I have to make some very tough calls or quick decisions. And every time... I get criticized for it by my brothers. They really don't understand what kind of pressure I'm under just to keep them safe from harm. I love my brothers don't get me wrong, I only wish they understand what it's like to be me and not have time to take care of yourself." Leo explained staring at the ground before him.

   Upon listening to what Leo had to say, you couldn't help but feel for him. Your heart ached for him because you could see so much of yourself in him. Out of everyone you knew, Leo was the only one who seemed to understand you, which explains why you felt so attracted to him. Even now despite everything that went on, you could feel the attraction grow even stronger. You sat down next to him, gently placed your hand on his cheek turning his head so he was facing you. Staring into each other's eyes which seemed for hours, unknowingly you and Leo were inching closer to where you could feel one another's breath. He continued to stare into your eyes, gently moving a strand of your hair behind hair, immediately causing your cheeks to turn rosy red and leaned in against his hand sighing with content. Leo of course still couldn't get over the fact that such a beautiful woman like you was sitting right here beside him, touching his face and close enough to where he can feel your lips on yours. Basically making him want to protect you even more so than before. You looked back up at him and could quickly tell he was in deep thought about something.

"What's going on through that brain of yours?" You asked in a soft voice.

   He was going to answer but instead, he decided that he would rather show you what he was thinking by doing something that he's been wanting to do for months. Without hesitation, Leo gently pressed his lips onto yours. Naturally, you were shocked by the ordeal, which soon faded when you found yourself kissing him back. It pretty much felt like your lips were dancing amongst each other. However, Leo wanted to take a step further and hoping you would comply. He slowly ran his tongue over your lips asking your permission to enter. You gave a soft nod with a smile. Before you knew it, your tongue was now swirling and dancing along with his causing the both of you to let out a soft moan. Seconds later, without realizing it Leo then pulled you on to his lap. His hands were now slowly and gently caressing your back down to your hips. But like they say, "All good things must come to an end." And that end came when there was a sudden knock at the door causing the two of you to jump.

"Hey bro... I ordered pizza in case you and (y/n) were hungry." Mikey called out from the other side.

"Oh... Umm thanks Mikey we'll be there in a minute." Leo answered back while waiting for his heart to catch up with the rest of him.

   You and Leo looked at each other once everything calmed down and an instant blush came over you. "Whew... That was umm... Incredible." You panted softly.

"Hehe... Yeah, it was..." Leo chuckled still processing that he just experienced his very first kiss.

   He wanted to keep going he really did, but after everything that happened in the last few hours, he didn't wanna push it not to mention he was sure you were hungry and to be honest so was he.

"Well we better get out there or Mikey will try to eat everything before we could get the chance."

"Yeah and I better call April to let her know what's been going on."

   As you headed out to join the others, you grabbed your phone to call your best friend but then noticed her coming in along with Casey.

"Hey, I was just about to call you." You announced getting her attention.

"(Y/n)? What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at home already." April asked surprised to see you.

"Yeah, it's a long story... I'll explain."

[dirtyahs]

What Are We? (Tate Langdon x Reader)

HELLO IM BACK JESUS CHRIST IM SORRY IVE BEEN SO ABSENT LIFE IS KIND OF KICKING MY ASS BUT IM DOING MY BEST!! I LOVE ALL OF U FOR BEING SO KIND AND PATIENT <3

This was requested by my pal @stellaholland i luv u so much bby i hope u enjoy :,)

Word Count: 4,814

Warnings: unprotected sex, teasing (sexual and nonsexual), kinda fluffy at the end! (take that lightly, i dont write fluff well lmfao)

   You stood in front of your closet, continuously searching through the clothes as if something new was going to appear. You pulled a black skater dress off of the hanger and slipped it over your head, looking in your mirror, only half satisfied with the way it looked.    "You're just trying on the same dress in different colors, it's not that hard to pick one." You jumped when you heard a voice behind you, turning around to see none other than Tate. Your family had moved into the house about seven months ago. Both your mother and father were some kind of twisted horror fanatics, so they purchased the house knowing full well you'd be the owners of "Murder House." It was strange to get adjusted to at first, it's like living with ten other people, but only sometimes. Tate made himself visible the most out of everybody.    "How long have you been sitting there? Fuckin' creep." You scoffed, sitting on the edge of your bed to put on a pair of black boots.

"Long enough." He smirked at you, standing up to walk to your desk, flicking through your notebooks.    You saw Tate most often, but frankly, he was the last person you cared to see. He was obnoxious, arrogant, and overall just kind of a douche. You'd come home from school to see him laying in your bed listening to your music. Or you'd wake up in the middle of the night to things falling off of your bookshelf, furniture moving with no one being there. It was always him though. It's like he got off on just screwing with you; so he did. Quite often. Everybody else in the house was decent. Nora was sweet, she just cried a lot. Which was fair given her situation. Chad and Patrick were both okay individually, but when they were together, they were beyond irritating. Just so incredibly passive aggressive - you couldn't imagine being stuck in a house for eternity with someone you wanted to divorce.    You stood up, smoothing out your dress before grabbing your small bag and slinging it over your shoulder. Your parents had decided everyone was going to go out on a nice lunch today.    "Can you get out? I'm leaving." You pushed past him, opening your door and motioning him to walk out. 

"I can never get out, angel." He said, sounding just as conceited as ever, making his way to the door, leaning against the wooden frame. "But I guess I can leave you to your little lunch date with mommy and daddy." He teased you condescendingly. You'd done your best to not let him bother you, but he knew exactly how to get under your skin.

"Thanks for being so kind, Tate." You gave him the sweetest smile you could manage, slamming your bedroom door when the two of you had exited. 

ii.    You'd finally gotten home a few hours later. Your parents were very good at starting conversation with every server you'd ever had. They get talking, and then the server gets talking and it seems to last forever. They do always get some kind of discount or something free for being kind though. Your mom had been a server for a decent part of her life, so she was always extra nice to them.        Telling them you had homework to work on, you made your way upstairs to your room, hearing music coming from behind the door. Just as you suspected, Tate was sprawled out on your bed, hands behind his head, eyes closed. You sighed and walked over to your bed, smacking Tate's side.

   "Can you get the fuck out? I have homework to do." You hissed. You definitely weren't going to do homework though. You'd probably end up reading, or watching YouTube or something - but Tate didn't need to know that part. His eyes opened slowly, and you felt like you couldn't look away. He looked angelic (ironically.) His blond curls spread messily around his head, face peaceful, and most importantly, he wasn't talking, which made him look amazing. Without a word, he moved over to one side of the bed, making room for you on the other.

    "Tate, I mean it, get out. I've got shit to do." You tried to sound strong - however, you weren't very threatening.

"Whatever you've got to do, just do it quietly." He mumbled, eyes closing once again. Looks like you weren't going to be getting him out of your room. With that, you grabbed the book you've been reading and took a seat at your desk chair, kicking your boots off and putting your feet up on the desk. Your dress fell just a bit to reveal part of your upper thigh. Within minutes, you heard quiet snoring coming from the boy in your bed, blankets pulled up to his chin now. How he managed to make himself so comfortable in your room remained a mystery. It was his room first, technically though. You looked up from your book to see him snuggled tightly under the dark purple duvet, lips parted just slightly. 

You couldn't take your eyes off of him - he looked so  peaceful and quite beautiful honestly.     No - what the fuck are you thinking? You thought to yourself. You don't like Tate - you haven't since the day you moved into this house. He was rude and condescending and way too overly confident. He might be nice to look at, but that's all he had going for him. You had to shut those thoughts down immediately. You shook your head and picked your book up again, returning to the chapter you were reading. iii.    "Why are you going to school? Wouldn't you rather stay here with me?" Tate teased, leaning against your door frame, blocking you from leaving. He'd been there since you woke up, but he wasn't going to tell you that part. He'd watched you strip out of your pajamas and slide into your hip hugging denim jeans. He enjoyed seeing you - there was something so erotic to him about just watching you go about your normal routine. Not only was it erotic for him, he just liked to watch you. He was fascinated with the way you'd wing your eyeliner, or paint your lips your favorite pink nude. He liked seeing the way you'd quietly sing to yourself in the morning. Most people that moved into that house were terrified of him and everyone else there. You and your family were so different for him. Tate hadn't felt accepted probably ever in his life. Being accepted, and even admired was such a new feeling for him.     

"No, Tate I wouldn't. I need to go to class today." You huffed, slinging your bag over your shoulder and crossing your arms. He had that stupid smirk stuck to his face. Today, it was hard to tell him no. He did this every few days, and you always pushed past him without a second thought. Today, you kind of wanted to stay home with him. But you couldn't. You'd always done well in school, and it was something you took pride in. So you did what you always did and pushed past him, looking over your shoulder to see him watching you walk away. 

"Your ass looks cute in those jeans!" He called, blowing you a kiss oh-so sweetly. Your heart jumped a bit with his words.    You sat in the cold blue plastic chair, resting your head in the palm of your hand as your English professor babbled on about the assigned reading. The assigned reading that Tate wouldn't let you finish. You were sat in your bed, legs crossed at your ankle trying to finish the chapter. You looked up to see none other than your blond haired nuisance. He was wearing torn up black jeans and Doc Martens. You had the same pair. He crawled over the iron swirls of your bed frame, and laid next to you - uninvited. He tried to talk to you about whatever he could - about your book, about your boots, about himself, about how good he thought you looked in a denim mini skirt. His flirting was always sarcastic. At least it seemed that way. No matter how sarcastic he was though, somehow his words always made your heart flutter. No matter how much you tried to suppress it.    "(Y/N)? Can you tell me what happened to our main character in chapter 7?" Your teacher had her arms crossed over her chest, pulling you from your little fantasy - you just zoned out in class thinking about Tate fucking Langdon? Really?   

"I-well Mrs. Sanchez..." You stammered, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, cheeks turned an almost electric red. How the hell did you get so carried off thinking about a boy you thought you couldn't stand? 

 "Please pay attention, all of this is important." She said, clearly unhappy with you. You were one of her favorite students, but she had almost ridiculously high expectations of you. Oh well, you thought, she'd forget about it tomorrow.    You closed your front door behind you. It was about 3 o'clock. Your mom and dad would be at work for another couple of hours. But you were sure you'd walk upstairs to find Tate curled up in your bed for his afternoon nap, just like you found him there every day. He was a bit predictable sometimes. You trudged up the stairs, desperately needing some alone time. You'd found yourself day dreaming about Tate more than once. You'd see something that reminded you of him, and you'd feel your heart jump in your chest. You'd thought about the little freckle on his nose, and the way he'd touch all his fingers to his thumb when he got a little nervous. You'd thought about the one time you walked into the bathroom to see him shirtless standing looking in the mirror. His jeans were unbuttoned and hung low on his hips. His muscular shoulders stiffened a bit when he saw your reflection.

"I-I..." You stuttered, unable to look away. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in here." Your cheeks were beet red, voice audibly shaking.     "That's okay," He turned around and took a few steps towards you. "You can walk in on me like this whenever you want. It seems like you're liking what you see." He growled, his hand moved to rest against wall next to your head.    You sighed and threw your bag to the floor, kicking your shoes off quickly. That memory ignited something in you and you couldn't deny the wetness forming between your thighs. Swiftly, you unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down your legs, crawling into your bed. You hooked your phone up to your speaker, playing your "Steamyyyyy" playlist, as if you'd ever been with more than one person before. You ran one finger down your chest, to your stomach, finally reaching your black panties, one finger rubbing light circles over your clothed clit. You let out a throaty sigh, gradually picking up speed. Your eyes were closed, head thrown back onto the black silk of your pillow case. You pushed the fabric to the side, your fingertip finally making skin to skin contact with the little bundle of nerves held between your soaking folds. Your lips remained parted, letting out desperate little whimpers every few seconds. Your free hand gripped at the sheets as your finger worked faster, whimpers eventually turning into loud moans. You hadn't been alone to do this in so long - honestly, you'd forgotten what it felt like. As alone as you felt, you logically knew you were never alone in this house. Tate was sat in your desk chair, a distinct protrusion pressing against his light wash jeans. His jaw hung open as he watched you, in shock over how beautiful you looked.Your mind was running with thoughts of none other than him; you thought about his fingers working you like this, his large hands caressing your skin, his full lips pressing kisses into your neck.     

"Tate..." You gasped, fully immersed in your fantasy, feeling that familiar tighten in your tummy, your fingers moved harder almost instinctively. Tate sat there, quiet. You'd finally rendered him speechless. His name fell from your lips several more times. His hand clapped over his mouth to hide his whimpers as you made his cock twitch against his boxers. Truthfully, he'd fantasized about you more times than he cared to admit. Seeing you like this was just a happy accident. He'd walked into your room with the intention to scare you, throw some stuff off of your shelves to mess with your head. But he stopped outside the door, hearing muffled moans. He opened the door slowly, eyes widening when he saw what you were doing.     Suddenly, the coil inside of you snapped and your legs started shaking. Your jaw hung agape, nails digging into the soft fabric beneath you.     

"Oh- fuck! Tate..." You hissed loudly, guaranteed that someone, somewhere in the house heard you. But, it was just Tate. He now stood at the end of your bed, watching as you soaked your fingers, his hand gently palming himself through his jeans. Once you'd finally ridden out your orgasm, you pulled your fingers from their spot between your legs, sighing deeply, satisfied. Your eyes finally opened and you looked around - still no one. Part of you was surprised Tate wasn't there to make fun of you. It was in that moment that you realized how loudly you'd been saying his name. You literally gotten off to him. He'd invaded your thoughts throughout the day and now he was doing it again in your only alone time. God dammit. You sighed and leaned up in your bed, rubbing your eyes. You couldn't keep playing this game with him - you needed to ask him what the hell his goal was. You needed to see what he felt for you. 

   You stood up and slid back into your jeans from earlier, making your way to your bathroom down the hall. The closer you got, you could hear a voice coming from inside. Your hand met the coolness of the door knob, but you stopped, feeling your knees weaken when you realized what you were hearing. From the other side of the door came strained grunts. Your heart was racing but you couldn't pull away. You pressed your ear against the door, the voice getting louder and louder. 

"(Y/N)," the voice hissed - your suspicions were confirmed, it was Tate. "I-I'm gonna' cum..." He hissed, letting out a loud, relieved moan. Your mind was racing, desperate to see what he looked like in that moment. Moments later, you heard the zipper of his jeans and quicker than you meant to, you began your little run down the hall and down the stairs, no doubt he heard your foot falls. Your heart was going to jump out of your throat, you were sure of it. It was your own fault for thinking you'd ever have any kind of alone time in this house. Tate never left you alone - he saw you. He had to. There was no way that was a coincidence. You opened he fridge, not really looking for anything, just trying to occupy yourself. You jumped when you saw two hands on either side of your head, making contact with the fridge. Speak of the devil.

   "Tate! You-you scared me." Whether he saw you or not, it was clear that something had you frazzled.    

"Can we talk?" His voice sounded deep, gravelly, almost like when he'd just woken up. You finally turned around and looked up at him. His hair was a bit messy, cheeks tinted a pale pink.    

"Yeah, about what?" Your voice shook with your words, hands clasped tightly in front of you. You looked up at him as he pushed his body closer to yours.    

"No need to act like you don't know what you heard." He growled, chest pressed tightly to yours. "And I'm not going to act like I didn't see you soaking your sheets thinking about me."

His dark eyes looked bright. He got some kind of thrill out of embarrassing you. You opened your mouth to say something sarcastic back, but no sound came out. Tate being this close to you was making your heart race, you didn't have the overwhelming urge to shove him away like you normally would.   

"I think," He whispered, lips ghosting yours, "You like when I tease you." He smirked, one hand moving down your side to your hip. "Why don't you tell me what you were thinking about, hm baby girl?" His lips brushing yours forced an unintentional moan from your throat, cheeks flushing almost instantly.    "I-Tate..." You were mesmerized. He had you in the palm of his hand and it excited him. "I wasn't thinking about you." You tried to lie, realizing just how dumb you sounded after the words came out.     

"Oh Tate," He raised his tone to mock you, "Fuck me, Tate." He chuckled down at you. "Nothing to be embarrassed about doll, I know you heard me saying your name just like that too." He gave your hip a firm squeeze. 

"After what, nine months in this house, I think it's time you live your fantasies." 

He held you tightly in his hands, spinning you two around so you were pressed against the edge of the counter top. You had nothing to say. Honestly, you were unbelievably excited. You'd thought about his hands touching your skin, his lips on yours, you've wanted this longer than you cared to admit. Your hand came up to hold one side of his face, taking a fistful of his hair and kissing him - hard. His lips worked against yours perfectly, feeling as if they were made to fit together. He got rougher, not hesitating to take control of you. He pushed you firmly against the cool marble behind your back, lips moving from yours down your jaw and to the soft skin on your neck. His kisses started gentle, but quickly got aggressive, nipping at the skin, leaving purple marks in his wake.

You tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, feeling him smirk against your skin before he pulled back to tug the gray fabric over his head, showing you his slightly toned torso. Your heart rate picked up once again as you looked him up and down. 

   "Your turn, angel." He cooed softly, watching as you followed his actions, tossing your tank top to the side. He smirked at you, using both hands to grope at your exposed chest, pressing possessive kisses to your chest.    

"I've always loved it when you don't wear a bra." He teased you, his playful, mocking tone returning.

"It's much more obvious than you think." He smirked and tweaked one nipple between his pointer finger and thumb, making you whimper from the slightly satisfying jolt of pain. You leaned your head back, allowing your eyes to shut as his tongue replaced his fingers, flicking over your nipple. Your lips were parted, letting out quiet gasps of pleasure. His now free hands moved down your sides and to your jeans, unbuttoning them with ease and sliding them down your thighs. You kicked them aimlessly to the forming pile of clothes on he floor.

His kisses started moving south, trailing them down your breasts, to your stomach, to your hips, finally reaching the thin cotton fabric that was now soaked between your legs. One of his hands came up to lift your leg over his shoulder, his lips pushing a few light kisses against your clothed pussy. You whimpered, desperate for him. You'd never admitted it to yourself, but Tate has always a central theme in your fantasies. He'd force his way into your thoughts without you even realizing it, and after you were done, you'd push it away and pretend like you'd thought about someone else. You didn't want to be attracted to someone as annoying and immature as Tate, but now he had his head between your thighs and you had no intention of stopping it.

   He'd pushed the thin fabric aside, flicking his tongue against your clit just once, to make you moan out in pleasure.         

"Stop teasing me, dick head." You half whimpered, half challenged him. You did want him, so badly, but you couldn't let him see just how wrapped around his finger you really were. With your words he roughly pulled your hips forward, forcing a harsh smack to your ass.    

"I like you much more when you're just moaning my name." He growled, but he listened to you. His lips attached to your clit and he began sucking lightly, not hesitating to push two fingers into your wet heat, making you squeal in pleasure. It'd been a long time since someone else's fingers had penetrated you, and somehow Tate was fucking amazing at it. He curled his fingers perfectly in rhythm with the way his mouth worked your clit. Your hands gripped the edge of the counter top, knees growing weak. You felt that tight heat rising in your tummy, his fingers and tongue getting you so close to release, much quicker than you ever did by yourself.     

"Tate- I'm gonna-" He stood up, smoothly lifting you up onto the counter, keeping your leg slung over his shoulder.    

"You're cumming on my cock." He growled dominantly, his eyes looking dark and almost feral. He kicked his jeans and boxers to the side, completing the pile of your clothes. You couldn't help but watch as he stroked his length a few times before lining it up with your entrance, pushing into you painfully slowly. You looked up at him, taking in his features. His jaw hung open a bit, blond curls hanging in his eyes. He looked as perfect as someone possibly could. Once he bottomed out inside of you, he looked up, beginning to thrust into you, starting slow and picking up gradually. 

   "Fuck-" He hissed through gritted teeth, "You're so fucking tight." His hands rested on the counter on either side of your hips, fingertips turning white from how hard he pressed into the surface. He kept up a steady pace for awhile before you felt his hips stutter - he was close. He brought one hand up and began rubbing fast circles over your clit, making your legs tremble around him.    

"Cum with me, angel." He growled, fingers picking up their pace, your lips barely brushing his as you felt that tightness return. Your jaw hung open now as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You watched his fingers and hips work in time against you, when all of a sudden you felt him release, covering your walls with his hot cum, forcing the coil in your tummy to snap. You came with him, nails digging into his shoulder, knees feeling weak before it was even over. You watched his face relax once he was finished, chest rising and falling quickly. He looked up at you through his hair, flashing a faint smile. He pulled out of you slowly, pressing a loving kiss into your cheek before bending down to dig through the pile of clothes to find his boxers. He slipped them over his legs, followed by his jeans, but you stayed in your spot on the counter.    "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" He looked at you, jeans resting low on his hips.    "You get on my fucking nerves more than anything, and somehow you managed to have me up on this counter for you." You shook your head, blatantly in shock from what just happened. You didn't want it to end though. There was something about seeing Tate so vulnerable, yet so confident that just left you wanting more. He smirked, pulling his shirt over his head and shrugging.    "Neither of us are complaining." He smirked, tossing you your shirt and helping you down from the counter. You pulled your tank top on, opening your mouth to respond when you heard the key turn in the door - your parents were home.    "This isn't over, Langdon." You hissed, grabbing your clothes before rushing up the stairs, accidentally slamming your door much harder than you intended.    A few weeks had passed since your encounter with Tate, and there had been a repeat of those events every few days. You two started to pick up on what the other one liked. Like how you enjoyed having your hair pulled and Tate enjoyed when you'd kiss his neck. He liked having you in control. For someone as confident and douchey he was, he liked having you dirty talking him, being the more dominant one occasionally. And god damn, that boy was always in the mood. You'd feel his hands on your hips when you'd brush your teeth in the morning, or when you were getting ready for bed, he'd kiss down your shoulders the way he knew you loved. But you didn't mind. If he wanted it, you were happy to drop what you were doing and sleep with him. It was a fun little arrangement.    It was late, probably around 2 A.M., Tate was laid next to you, a blanket covering him from the waist down, his arms behind his head. You looked over at him, feeling your heart race a little faster. The more time you spent with Tate, the more you grew to appreciate him. He was funny, and charismatic. He'd make you giggle but then have you bent over your bed in the same minute. You couldn't help but miss the feeling of him when you slept alone in your bed. He was always warm.    You pulled the blanket tighter around your chest as you leaned up on one elbow, looking over at his sleepy face.        "Tate can I ask you something? It's kind of dumb, but I just need to know." You felt nervous all of a sudden. You weren't even exactly sure what you wanted with him. Could you be in a relationship with someone who died in the 90's? Was that even what he wanted? What if he just wanted to be fuck buddies? Is that okay with you? Your brain was jumbled with all these thoughts, interrupted when he looked over at you, skin almost glowing in the dim light.    "What's up?" He looked up at you, his finger drawing lazy circles on his chest. You took a deep breath and visibly shifted, clearly uncomfortable.    "What are we?" You blurted out, cheeks going red immediately. "Because we- we fuck a lot. You're in my room a lot. You never let me be alone, and I just don't want to say something weird, or continue being in the dark I guess." Your voice trailed off before you collapsed down onto your back again, suddenly unable to look at him. He looked over at you though, you couldn't meet his eyes.    "What do you want to be?"    "No, don't put this on me. Answer my question."    He sighed, and you finally looked over at hi,.    "(Y/N)," He started, looking over your chest before looking back into your eyes. "Honestly, this started as sex." Your heart dropped. "But you're right, we have spent a lot of time together. I like being in here with you, regardless of what we're doing." He moved to cup one side of your face.    "I don't want to tie you down, ever. I can't leave this house, and I don't want you to be stuck here with me." You opened your mouth to cut him off, tell him that you were willing to be here with him, for however long he wanted, but he cut you off, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip.    "How about this - you and me continue what we're doing here. We can be boyfriend and girlfriend here, but I won't be mad if you find someone else, out there." His words almost brought tears to your eyes. You hadn't felt cared for like this in so long, and to be here, this vulnerable and intimate made your eyes well up.    "Please just agree. If I could leave this house, I'd ask you to be mine right now, and I'd parade you around for everybody to see. But I can't do that, so we keep doing what we're doing, and see how things progress naturally." He flashed you a close mouthed smile, but it felt genuine nonetheless. One tear fell down your cheek, and you returned his smile.    "That sounds perfect to me. Boyfriend and girlfriend, kind of." You grinned before he pulled you into a kiss, hands wrapping around you to keep you in his arms - and you'd stay there as long as he wanted you to.