#sweaty chest greg to start your day

[childoftheriver]

Sweaty boy. And Keith sitting! Carl is hidden there somewhere.

[writtenbyjos]

Spellbound, A Ghostly Tale: Chapter 3

"BAD FIRST EVERYTHING"

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

"I won't have you filling her head with these stories!" A tall, thin woman angrily threw a bunch of clothes into an old suitcase.

"You mean her heritage! I won't stand for you to take her away from everything she's ever known!" A much older woman said sternly. She had long white hair in a braid, hidden beneath thick-beaded necklaces and shawls. "She can't just leave all of it behind, Blare." The woman's voice softened.

"This isn't the life I wanted for Lucille." Blare said, fighting back tears. "I won't let her get caught up in this shit. Not after what happened." Blare pushed her hair back.

"It was his time, Blare. You know that," The old woman said. "Besides, Little Moon is gifted, she's special."

"For god's sake don't call her that!" Blare spat. "Lucille. That's the name Greg and I picked out for her. Not your weird voodoo madness. Lucille." She picked up a stack of children clothes.

"You can't hide this from her forever," the woman said folding her hands. "What will you do when the summer solstice comes?"

"We'll manage, Cora. We'll move across the country to a fucking farm house in the country if it'll keep her safe." Blare slammed the lid of the suitcase and started on a smaller bag.

Unbeknownst to either of them, Lucy sat listening at the door, her knees folded to her chest. She clutched her old teddy bear as silent tears streamed down her soft face.

"You can't keep her in the dark forever," the old woman said again.

"Watch me." Blare swept up her luggage. "I'm done, Cora. Greg's gone, and it's my fault for being so blind. I appreciate everything you'v done for Lucille and I, but I'm done. Don't follow us, and don't come looking for us, either."

The old woman sighed softly. "Here,"she said. "Take this." The woman took off a white beaded necklace with a charm on the end from around her neck and held it out. "It's a protection charm."

"I'm not taking some cursed old relic. Get it away from me." She began backing up.

"You're not the only one who lost Greg, you know." Blare scoffed and threw a t-shirt down on the bed with great force. Pausing, she closed her eyes.

"I'm well aware. But he was a my husband, Cora." She said, a little softer.

"He was my son. My flesh and blood." Blare didn't move. Cora bowed her head and sighed. "One day," the old woman said pointing. "One day you'll understand. And one day you'll come back, Blare. Little Moon is powerful, I can feel it." She clutched at her shawls. "One day you'll be wishing you'd never left." Tears glittered in her eyes, but Blare just scoffed, her temperament rising again.

"When hell freezes over." She hoisted up her bags and stormed past her mother to fling the door open.

Lucy woke with a panic, her boney hands clutching the amulet that lay on her sweaty chest. She had had that dream again. Each night it grew more vivid. She breathed heavily and wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. She looked down at the amulet and sighed.

"I know, Ona," she said quietly. "I'm trying."

She looked at her shut door. She considered her sweaty palms, and decided to find a bathroom to wash. She began creeping to the door, wincing when the floorboards beneath her squeaked. She opened her door and looked around, still holding onto the amulet for dear life. An opened door down the hall revealed a sink and mirror. Perhaps a hot bath would help her wind down a bit. She slowly closed her door, trying not to be heard, worrying she's wake someone, or something, that she shouldn't.

Reaching the musty bathroom, she looked at herself in the mirror and felt disgusted. Everything, from her long, matted, white blonde hair, to her large pale blue eyes to the pale freckles and she curled her lips in disgust.

She examined her boney figure. Freckles ran along her shoulders, and her bones were showing. She had had a rough couple of weeks before she found a safe, warm and dry place to sleep for the night. Her entire body reminded her of easier days, from the scar on her forehead to the tattoo on her ankle of a small bird. She looked towards the bathtub and began to let the water run.

"Ah, gross," she moaned as murky brown water poured from the faucet. She hit the pipe and it began to run clear. A cockroach crawled out from under the tub, and she smashed it quickly with her foot. "When was the last time they had a maid around here?" She paused. "Oh right." She said chuckling.

Just down the hall lay the three brothers all sleeping like the dead in their dusty, cobweb ridden beds. Stinkie in particular was having quite the fever dream, about all the stinkiest food anyone could ever imagine. He awoke with a start, feeling his face get all flustered and found his long tongue dry as a bone. He got up to go splash some water on his face. He was so dazed, still caught between sleep and wakefulness that as he floated down the hallway, he didn't even bother to use the door.

He flew straight into the room and bumped into Lucy, halfway undressed and about to strip off her bra. Before either one knew how to react they realized the delicate situation. Stinkie had fallen on top of who Stretch had called an "air sucking intruder" who was almost completely naked, and Stinkie's large nose was touching her's. They both screamed and Lucy pushed him off with great force, grabbing a towel.

"Oh my god, oh my god," she squeaked, her face flushed.

Stinkie covered his eyes and cried out. "Oh Jesus Christ, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He yelled, stumbling backwards. When he opened his eyes, a grin flickered across his stunned face.

"Wow-zah," he said staring at her exposed chest.

"Get out!" She shrieked.

"Right. Sorry." Stinkie flew out the door as quickly as he had come. Lucy just stood there, stunned, clutching the towel for dear life and praying to God that what happened, did not happen. Stinkie had fallen to the floor on the other side of the door rubbing his head.

"Wow," he said with bewildered smile. He flew as fast as he could into his bedroom.

"Guys, guys!" He shouted. No movement. "Wake up, ya bastards!" He yelled.

"What da hell, Stink?" Stretch groaned rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

"Yeah c'mon Stink I was just gettin' to the good part of my dream, where I get to bang Nicole Kidman!" He said with his tongue hanging out.

"I got's to tell you's somethin'," He said with a sly grin.

The next morning, the rain had stopped, the thunder quick cracking and the lighting had died out in Friendship, Maine. Casper had flown down to make breakfast early, he had a lot of mouths to feed this morning. Kat came down the stairs in her usual fashion, sitting down at the table and silently began working on the crossword puzzle of the newspaper Casper brought in early that morning while he got started on the pancakes. They both stopped when they heard quiet footsteps enter the room. Lucy slowly walked in wearing plaid pants and a tank top.

"Is it safe?" She asked.

"You betcha! I just to started on breakfast," Casper said flipping a pancake.

"The ghouls of Whipstaff Manor have yet to show their ugly faces yet, so count your blessings." Kat said going back to the crossword puzzle.

"Who you callin' ugly, bonebag?" A loud voice boomed and shook the windows.

"Speak of the devils," Kat said rolling her eyes.

The windows slammed shut and the lights went out in the kitchen.

"And now, our very own," the Trio's voices rang through the air in unison as smoke filled the air and a large spotlight that nearly blinded Kat and Lucy shone on the other side of the table.

"Stretch!" Stretch popped out of the mist with a pop of confetti.

"Fatso!" Fatso fell from the ceiling and stuck a pose in the spotlight.

"Aaaaand Stinkie!" Stinkie twirled into the table and stuck out his tongue.

"And the award for worst morning breath goes to," Stretch said, the lights turning on, windows opening. "Our very own, Stinkie!" Stinkie took a bow.

"Thank you thank you," He said. "Gosh, I shoulduh' prepared a speech." He said high-fiving his brothers.

"Stinky, scary, and ghoulish," Stretch said leaning close to Kat.

"But never ugly." He lowered his sunglasses and smirked. "And look who it is!" He pointed to Lucy. "If it ain't Miss Starr Dazzletush!" The gang all cackled and pointed. Lucy unconsciously grabbed her butt and quickly lowered her hands looking towards Kat.

"You gonna show me dat bra or am I gonna have to walk in on you too?" Stretch said putting his arm around Lucy cackling loudly. Fatso and Stinkie followed their brothers lead and laughed till their faces went red. Lucy was fuming. She glared at Stinkie and she could've sworn for a split second that he looked a little guilty.

"Bite me," she hissed, escaping Stretch's arm.

"I'm not one for foreplay but I might make an exception for you baby," Stretch said grinning.

"You better..." She scrunched her face. "You better piss off, Jacob Marley." A scowl darkened Lucy's face as she pointed a small nimble finger towards Stretch.

"Hey watch your mouth, Dazzletush," Stretch inched closer to Lucy, and she blew a stray hair out of her face.

"Get a pulse, airhead," she said, smirking. "Take a hint, Skin sack." They were both inches away from each other with the entire room completely quiet.

"Good morning..." James's voice trailed off as he entered the room. "Oh dear," he sad quietly.

"Lucy, I can see you've met —"

"The three stooges," she said sarcastically smiling. "A pleasure." Stretch scowled.

"Pleasure's all mine sweetheart," Stretch crossed his arms defiantly. A slow grin crept through his lips. "But mostly 'is," He thumbed over at Stinkie. Stinkie blushed and shrugged.

"Solid five," he said, making Stretch and Fatso laugh. Lucy felt a burning sensation in her belly begin to rise.

"Negative 1." Lucy crossed her arms. "Even in life." She said smiling widely. Stretch and Fatso oo'd and ah'd as she tilted her head. Stinkie clutched the table tightly and scowled.

"WHO'S HUNGRY?" Casper yelled balancing plates on any available surface: his head, shoulders, arms and hands.

Fatso raised his hand eagerly and lowered it at the sight of Stinkie's angered expression.

"Well I'm starvin'," Fatso hit his fists on the table emphasizing his last word with a fork and knife in hand.

Casper set down the plates in front of his uncles and quickly they began to stuff their faces with food. Fatso grabbed the maple syrup and used both hands to squeeze the poor Mrs. Butterworth's bottle into his mouth only to have it splatter all over the floor with a splash. Stretch ate his pancakes one full cake at a time and barely hesitated to chew between pauses. Stinkie dumped the entire plate in his mouth and belched right in Lucy's direction. The green mist practically slapped her right in the face and she turned almost purple out of disgust.

"God, Stinkie!" Kat yelled clearing the air by waving her hand.

"Fellas please have some common decency." James said holding his nose.

"'Common decency'?" The trio looked at each other surprised and burst out laughing.

"A belch is just one gust of wind that cometh from my heart," Stinkie said rising from his seat. "...but should it take the downward trend and turn into a fart," he placed one hand over his heart and one hand in the air. Stinkie let out such a fart in fact, that it shook the windows and sent Casper flying into the next room. Fatso and Stretch spit their food out from cackling so hard till their checks turned red and their eyes watered.

"Say Stink," Stretch said wiping his eye with his pointer.

"Hmm?" He said, with a sly smile.

"How do you get a pancake to smile?" Stretch looked at both his brothers. "You butter it up!" Stretch swiftly grabbed the butter and chucked it at Fatso, nailing him right in the face.

"I'd slap you but that'd be animal abuse!" Fatso grabbed the syrup bottle and squirted it in Stretch's direction. He ducked just in time, the sticky substance hitting Stinkie instead. "You must spent all night woikin' on dat one!" Stinkie laughed huddling a biscuit his way.

"Not the biscuits," Casper said looking defeated. Food was flying everywhere and a poor unsuspecting Lucy stood ducked one moment too late as a slab of butter hit her square in the face. The room fell silent and the Trio froze, food in hands, hands in the air. James hit the table slightly and rose from his seat in a huff.

"Boys, that's enough!"

"Aw come on, Doc," Stretch said looking up. "We're jus' havin' some fun with our new air suckin' 'guest'." He said. "She's just bein' a sour pussy," Stretch fake gasped and put his hand over his mouth.

Lucy stood, wiped the butter off her face and excused herself from the table, feeling the wet hot tears begin to form behind her brown eyes. She began to breath heavily and clenched her fists.

"Uh oh, here come da water works!" Stinkie said mockingly.

Without warning the lights began to flicker a little at a time as Lucy wouldn't break her stare a the trio.

"What da hell?" Stretch said glancing at the lamps on the wall. She blinked a couple of times and let go of her strain on her temples and shoulders. Without another word, she left, leaving the kitchen in disarray, egg on the wall and everyone in confusion.

"Somethin's tellin' me that wodn't no coincidence," Stretch said squinting his eyes.

Lucy immersed herself into her work, still wiping off slabs of butter on her face. She opened her suitcase still sitting on the bed and lifted the top. She bent down and dove into it. She disappeared into the small purple bag and popped out with a small velvet bag with a drawstring.

"Aha," She said eyeing it suspiciously. She opened the top and poured out a handful of poppy seed into her hand. "I knew I had packed this." She said. She threw it into a small bowl and headed back and forth in and out of her mysterious suitcase for another fifteen minutes till she had all the necessary ingredients.

"As I went down to the river to pray, studying about that good ole' way," Lucy sang softly. "Oh sisters lets go down, let's go down, come on down," She walked over to her bag and pulled out one final item. It was a long, wooden stick with flower vines carved into the sides all the way to the tip. She held it and took a deep breath. "Down to the river to pray," She sang eyes closed. She spun the wand over the bowl and white static began to emerge from the tip. It mixed the substance together and began to steam. "Oh sinners lets go down, come on down. Down in the river to pray," She sang. Lucy pointed to the bowl with her wand and levitated a small black marble out of the goop.

"Lucy?" A quiet voice made Lucy scream and break focus, dropping the marble. It fell to the floor and shattered into millions of black pieces.

"Kat!" She squeaked, clenching her chest tightly. "I..." She said. "There is a logical explanation," She said out of breath.

"What the hell..." Kat said breathlessly starring at the object Lucy clung to. Lucy squinted a worried look and shrugged with he hands in the air.

"Look, I promise I'm not dangerous!" She said waving her hands. To both their surprises a green light emerged from the tip of the wand and shot towards a potted flower turning into a large and vicious venus fly trap with saliva-covered teeth, at least 6 inches long. The power from the spell flung Lucy back a few feet causing her to drop the wand onto the floor. Kat screamed and Lucy shot around eyeing the creature. She sighed defeatedly, looking at Kat with a guilt-ridden face. "Not most of the time anyway," She said. Kat started throwing books at it from the shelf. "No stop you'll just make it..!" She said as Kat launched a five hundred paged book into its face making it growl. "...Worse," Lucy said slapping her face. "I can fix this, I can fix this!" She yelled.

"Hurry up, Elphaba!" Kat shouted.

Lucy turned around, confused. "Huh?"

"You know, the wicked witch of the west? Gregory MCGUIRE...!" Her shout increased in volume as the fly trap shot towards her. Lucy shoved Kat aside and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

"Okay, a) I'm not wicked," her breath caught in her throat as she leaped to dodge the monstrous teeth. "And b), green is so NOT my color!" She began frantically searching through her suitcase.

"Are we seriously having this conversation while about to be eaten by some venus fly freak?" Kat yelled.

"Hey, if you hadn't scared me we wouldn't be in the mess!"

"You never told me I was harboring a witch!"

"Holy mackerel," Casper had flown through the room, and frozen in mid-flight when confronted with the giant fly-trap.

"Casper!" Kat yelled. "Help!" Powerful vines sprouted from the stem and enclosed themselves around Kat's ankles. She fell to the ground with a 'thud' as the vines entangled her entire body.

"Kat, hang on!" Where was her wand? She suddenly spotted it out of the corner of the room and made a leap for it, but the creature's vines enveloped her calves and threw her to the floor. She tried to wiggle her way out but the plant was too strong.

"Casper do something!" Lucy yelled.

"I don't want to be this plant's lunch," Kat struggled against the vines but they only grasped tighter.

Snapped out of his frozen state he began to think. "I hope this works..." He began to spin around and around and around the monster, causing a large tornado- like vortex to form, buying them some time. The venus fly trap screeched and loosened its grip on both Kat and Lucy. Casper's tornado sent a gust of wind through the room causing the dresser to knock over. Its mirror shattered not far from Kat, blowing a large shard of glass within her reach

"Casper, whatever you're doing, don't stop!" Kat yelled.

"IIII'LLL TRRYYY," Casper shouted dizzily.

Kat reached for the glass shard just in time to cut herself free from the enemy's grasp. She ran to aid Lucy and helped her up with her hand. Lucy stumbled over to her wand and snatched it swiftly. "Oh god, what was that spell..." she shook her head back and forth.

"Don't tell me you're a witch who can't remember spells," Kat yelled over the swishing sound. "That's like the punchline to a bad joke!"

"Well it's really hard to concentrate in here in case you haven't noticed!"

"Hurry, I can't hold out much longer!" Casper yelled. Lucy strained and closed her eyes holding her wand with both hands. She thought back as far as she could and remembered her grandmother's little poem.

"When you're trying to protect us, always use Deflectus!" The words seemed to be screaming in her ears.

"I've got it!" She yelled.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" Kat said ducking as objects flew in the air. "Get behind me, Kat! This is gonna be messy," she said. "Casper, when I say three you stop and open the window!"

"OKKAAAYYY!" Casper echoed.

"One," Lucy felt sweat run down her forehead. "Two," Kat flinched behind her, the monster was growing weaker. "Three!"

Casper stopped and blew the window open, shaking the monster as it wobbled off balance. "Defectus Vexategra!"

A large bolt of white lightning shot at the monster launching it out of the window and into the sky. They all ran to the balcony as they watched it slowly fall through the air until it hit the large blue ocean surface with a large splash. They all sighed on cue as Lucy felt her knees turn into pudding that couldn't hold her small body. She collapsed but Kat and Casper caught her by the arms and placed her on the bed.

"Woah," Casper said falling next to Lucy. "That's a new one." Kat plopped down next to the both of them and sighed.

"That't the last time I walk in on you without knocking," She said laughing a little.

[sd-fantasies]

18+ this story is pure fiction.

Greg Part 1 (Coming out)

After i turned 22 i decided to finally come out to my parents. They divorced 3 years ago. Basically when i left home to study in A. I thought it best to first tell dad. Mom would be easier. After their divorce dad moved to P.

My plane arrived at 13:05 on a Friday. Dad came to pick me up. The last time i saw him was around Christmas, a half year ago. After a quick hug he drove me to his apartment. It was a warm day. Dad warned me that the aircon was broken and would only be fixed after the weekend.

--------

The apartment had a wonderful view over the adjacent park. And yes it was bleeding hot.

"You can put your stuff in my bedroom. I will sleep on the sofa tonight. Are you hungry? I can make some lunch."

I was starving. After lunch i went for a walk. Slightly nervous about the whole thing i decided to break the news and not wait another day. I wanted it off my chest. I had carried this burden for too long. When i came back dad just had made tea. We talked about his business. My work as a photographer. An hour past by and I kept postponing.

"If you don't mind I am going to have a shower. It is hot in here." I told dad, in order to buy more time.

"Sure. Just do as if you are at home. Towels are in the cupboard."

A shower was what i needed. I realized i had forgotten to take underwear with me so i put on my sweaty briefs.

"I hope you don't mind if i walk around like this, pointing at my bare chest."

"As I said, do as if you are at home. You want a beer?

After opening my can I took a deep breath and told him. Everything.

I started crying. Loud. Tears streaming down my face.

"I am sorry dad. I should have told you long ago."

Dad moved over to me and hugged me.

"Greg. I fully understand. It is fine. I am happy for you. I love you."

He kissed me on the forehead and held me close. Rustling with one hand through my hair. It felt good.

In the evening we went for diner in a fancy restaurant. He asked me if I had a boyfriend. I told him I was just fooling around. When we came home the apartment was still hot. I was tired. The travelling. The emotions had worn me out. Dad insisted I slept in his bed. He was going to sleep on the sofa.

"Don't be ridiculous. At your age you should not be camping in your own place. We can sleep in the same bed."

While he had a quick shower I lay down in his kingsize bed. In the mirror I saw dad coming into the room just wearing his briefs. I had not seen dad like this since I left home for uni. He had an amazing body. Furry. But not too much. A nice treasure trail. Hairy legs. Muscular. When he stepped in bed he bent over me and looked me in the eyes.

"Sleep well. I love you Greg."

"I love you too dad. I am glad you are so cool about it."

"Sweet dreams."

The next morning I woke up. Dad was still deep asleep. Because of the heat we had not covered ourselves with a duvet. I looked at his body. He was in such good shape. Something stirred me deep inside. I quickly got up.

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

I made breakfast. Reading the paper. At ten dad woke up. I went out for a walk. I came back just before lunch. Dad was still in his briefs preparing a salad. I saw him from behind. And again something stirred me deep inside. I went to the bathroom. Had a pee. I could see dad had taken a shower not long ago. His dirty underwear lying on the floor. Panic arose inside of me. Thoughts from the passed came back. Thoughts I had buried deep inside of me. I picked up his briefs. Brought them to my face. I inhaled. Smelled the male scent of dad. I was hard now. God, what was I doing.

After lunch we had coffee. We both reclined on the sofa. While checking messages I looked up. Dad was dozing, still in his briefs. I cleaned the kitchen. The heat in the apartment was unbearable. Standing on the balcony did not make a lot of difference. I went back inside. Picked up my book. I too started dozing. When I woke up, dad was standing in front of the window. God he was so good looking. Thinking of the scent of his briefs made me hard again. I put my book over my briefs. Just watching him staring outside. I didn't say anything. Just watched. Finally he turned around. He looked sad. I asked him if something was wrong.

"I am fine. I was just.... you want a beer?"

"Yes, thanks."

After he handed me the can he sat down on the sofa as well. Avoiding my eyes. Staring the other way.

"Dad, tell me what is bothering you."I asked him after a long silence. He turned his face, looked at me and said

"Greg, I am bisexual. I was jealous after you came out to me yesterday. I wish I had accepted who I am at that age."

His eyes were moist. Now I was the one hugging him. Telling him it was ok.

"I am sorry Greg. I should have told you earlier. But I was so confused when your mother and I divorced. I could not tell her. She still doesn't know. No one of my friends."

"Are you seeing someone?"

"No, not really. Just dating. Mostly guys. Nothing serious"

He looked at me. Our eyes locked. We both cried. It felt cathartic. Looking down I could see he had a semi-hardon. I consealed mine with the book.

-------

When we finished dinner I went for another shower. It was still warm inside the apartment. I was sweating. A cold shower cooled me down. Grabbing the towel I saw dad's briefs still lying on the floor. I picked them up again. I inhaled his male scent. And again I was hard for him. I waited for it to subside before going into the living room. Dad had lit some candles. A soft breeze came through the open window. Two glasses of white wine were waiting. I sat down next to dad. He gave me the glass. After some small talk i just said it.

"Dad last night when our eyes locked i felt a deep connection. This afternoon when you came out to me. We locked eyes again. I felt the same connection. Electricity. Is it me. Or did you feel it too?"

"Greg i felt exactly the same. And it scares me. You are my son. It is wrong."

"How can it be wrong when it feels so good. So right. I am 22. If we both consent why not."

"I don't know Greg. Yes it feels good. But I am not only your dad, I am 47. More than twice your age."

An awkward silence followed. But after smelling his briefs in the bathroom I wanted him. I put my hand on his thigh. Just let it rest there. My love for him was visible. My briefs were not able to conseal it. My heart was racing. I was too scared to look into his eyes. I was just silently staring in front of me. I moved my hand up his thigh. Just a little. I felt his hairy thigh. I stopped when I felt the fabric of his briefs. Then dad put his hand on top of mine. I was so hard by now. As if all my blood was now in my cock. I put my other hand on his briefs. He was rock hard too.

"Greg, I know it feels good. It feels right. But I am just not sure we should cross this boundary. A tiny voice says it is wrong."

He stood up.

"I am sorry. I just can't."

"Dad, we don't have to kiss or fuck. Just looking and exploring eachother what is wrong with that. When was the last time I saw you naked? I guess I was still in primary school. 11? 12?"

"From that moment you became prudent. It is normal when you enter puberty. You do not want to see your parents naked. And you certainly don't want them to see you naked."

By now it was almost dark. The candles were flickering. I walked over to him. I did not think. I just followed my instinct. Standing in front of dad I slowly pulled his briefs down. Revealing a thick uncut cock. It felt unreal. But he did not resist. Seeing his erect cock for the first time. You cannot imagine how that feels. Just looking at it. Try to imagine it. It felt like a sacred moment. Worshipping his uncut cock. His full balls. The forbidden fruit. We were both silent. Both realising we were crossing a boundary. But the silence was full of erotic tension. Like when you have sex for the first time. The candles added to the sacred experience. Not many men will know about this holy connection. We both knew now. While just admiring his cock the most beautiful thing happened. A tiny drop of precum came out of his slit. I kept watching. The drop slowly formed a thread. A magical moment. After what felt like a long time I broke the intense silence.

"I have seen quite a few cocks although I am only 22. But your cock is the thickest uncut cock I have ever seen. Just looking at it makes me so hot. Please dad, allow me to touch it."

"Greg, you just unlocked my heart. I cannot describe how I feel. It is so confusing. But you were right, it feels so right. So yes, touch me. I want you to do it slow, this is a unique moment."

I was looking into his moist eyes when he spoke. I took my time to explore his cock with my fingers. I never felt like this before. Touching my own dad there was different. It felt so deep. So wonderful. His cock was so beautiful. The thread of precum glistened in the candlelight. I caressed his balls. They were a lot bigger than mine. Then caressing those strong hairy legs on the inside slowly moving towards his crotch, his balls. I looked into his eyes. It was so beautiful to see the bliss in his eyes. I brought my lips to his glans. My tongue playing with his frenulum. Tasting now what I had smelled in his underwear. God this was so good. I was so horny. I started licking his precum. The sweet taste. When I swallowed his sacred liquid it was as if I was reborn. Now circling his glans with my mouth. Slowly going down around that thick shaft. Hearing my dad moan with pleasure made me even hornier. I was still wearing my briefs. We decided to go to the bedroom. Standing before the bed he pulled down my briefs. In front of the mirror I saw the two of us. A striking similarity. The slightly hairy chest, the treasure trail. The hairy legs. And our cocks were almost identical. Both thick uncut. Often guys asked if it ran in the family. I could now confirm it. It was a clone of my own dad's cock.

"Dad, you make me so horny. Just looking at you, at us. I cannot comprehend. This had to happen."

"You are a real stud, Greg."

Then he started to touch my cock with just his finger tips. God, to feel his hand there. Then he touched my glans. The shaft. The slit. Gently touching my balls. Saying words of admiration I had longed for so long. He then did what felt like I was born for. With the tip of his tongue he slowly explored the slit of my cock. Everything happened in slow motion. It was a most intense experience. After minutes of exploring my slit his lips finally enclosed the head after he had pulled back the foreskin. Only the head. In my experience all men went immediately down. But dad did it step by step. Almost teasing. Making clear he was the one in control. He was the one deciding when I could move to a deeper level of bliss. I was ready to submit. Never before had I felt a desire to be dominated, this was so different from any sex I had experienced before. I felt the softness of his tongue. The warmth of his mouth. After what felt like half an hour he went down on my shaft. Which felt so natural. I guess very few men know what it means when your own dad becomes so intimate. I experienced a level of extacy that cannot be described by words. It was as if he blew life into me after he had created me more than twenty years ago. There is no other way of putting it. My whole body not only came to life, it started orgasming without ejaculating. My muscles were contracting and relaxing. A state of bliss I had never experienced before. While my dad kept sucking me I had a great view of his horsehung cock gushing precum. His foreskin pulled back like a stud ready to fuck. He was on his hands and knees, the thread of precum almost touched the bed. In the mirror I could see his perfect slightly furry ass. Just the way l like it. I asked him to move into 69 position. Which he willingly did. His balls now right before me. I started licking these huge reservoirs of cum thinking that once these balls had contained sperm that created me. His precum created a puddle on my chest. Dad still sucked my cock in a very controlled slow manner. Not like young guys who are always in hurry. I was still experiencing what I can describe as full body orgasms. I was so close to ejaculating. All of a sudden Dad's body tensed, his balls tight to his crotch. I could see his cock pulsating in front of my eyes. Cum shot over my chest. At the same time as dad I ejaculated. Dad swallowed all of my cum. When he lay down next to me. I brought some of his cum to my mouth. Hungry for it. The taste was so good.

"Wow, that was amazing." dad whispered.

“I never experienced anything like this. A full body orgasm. God, this unbelievable. When I looked at your erect cock I could not understand what was happening. I was so hungry for you "

It must have been past midnight. I was exhausted. Dad as well I guess. After cleaning up we both fell asleep immediately. When I woke up the next morning dad was still deep asleep. Due to the heat we had not bothered to use sheets. Both still nude. I looked at him. Even in his forties he was experiencing morning wood. His body deep asleep, relaxed but his cock hard. A wonderful site. I was hard myself but refrained from touching him. We still had the whole day in front of us. My plane was leaving on monday.

------

After breakfast I had a cold shower. While drying myself i saw Dad's briefs again where i had left them yesterday. I could not resist and picked them up. I now recognised the scent of his cock. I inhaled deeply. Just inhaling made me hard again. It felt so good. Last night something wonderful had happened. Now we had sucked eachothers cock i did not bother putting on underwear. When I walked into the livingroom dad was making breakfast.

"Morning, dad. Did you sleep well?"

"Like a log! And you?"

When he turned around I saw that he had not bothered putting on his briefs either. He prepared two excellent cappuccino's for us. We both set down at the kitchen table. Reading the news. Enjoying our coffees. I remembered dad was never talkative in the morning. I was not sure what to say about last night. The day after I felt almost guilty. What had we done. We could never undo this experience. But deep inside I knew I wanted more. But I was afraid dad would not want to repeat this, let alone go one step further. After I made a second coffee he looked up at me. He had moved to the sofa. I sat down on the other end. Afraid to start the conversation about something that was generally seen as perverted. I guess he was nervous about it as well. Finally he broke the silence.

"Greg, what happened last night remains between you and me."

I thought that was the end of that. But he continued.

"What I felt yesterday was something I never felt before. I had never fantasized about making love to you. But what you gave me last night I will never forget. Life changing. When I swallowed your precum, your semen it felt like a life elixer. A new beginning. To taste the sperm of my own son, god I never ever thought about it. But it felt so good. Thank you for taking me there where not many dare to go."

What happened next brought us to a new and deeper level of bliss. He leaned closer. Put his hand on my hairy chest. Flat on my heart. I did the same and put mine on his chest. I could feel his hard nipple. I could feel his heart racing. We opened our mouths and started making out. Our tongues intertwined. Our eyes locked. We both were hard again. Yes, I wanted to feel him inside of me. Dad fucking me. Me fucking him. Kissing was beyond anything I fantasized about. We must have been kissing for half an hour or so. We were both precum leakers. Some of it had leaked onto the sofa. He obviously didn't care.

"I love you dad"

"I love you too, Greg. You are an amazing son. I feel truely blessed. Thank you so much."

When I looked into his eyes I could see a young man in his twenties. We decided to first have lunch and then go back to bed and do everything we wanted to do. We had the whole afternoon and evening in front of us. We were both not interested in a quick fuck. We wanted to do it right and make it unforgettable. I was not sure what I would prefer. To feel dad's thick cock inside me. Or to cum deep inside him.

-------

During lunch our erections had subsided. So the question was who would fuck who. Dad suggested that I be the one to decide. Thanks to me he said we had this amazing weekend. It was a hard choice, pun intended. I could not wait to feel dad's thick cock inside me. To feel the warm flow of his semen. And yet I was tempted to fuck my dad, this amazing horsehung stud. I asked dad what he would prefer. I did not need to wait long for an answer. He wanted his sons cum inside him. Yesterday’s taste had him yearning for more. So I decided to please him.

After he had a shower and douche we moved to the bedroom. We looked at eachother in the mirror. Both semi erect we started making out again. Deep passionate kisses that sent blood straight to our cocks. Our hands over our furry bodies. My hands on his buttocks. A muscular butt for a guy his age. I asked dad to lie with his belly on the bed. I could not wait to slowly pull his buttocks apart. To reveal the entry to his inner sanctum. He had a wonderful rose of flesh. A beautiful puckered hole. I put some of my precum on my finger and started massaging his pucker. Dad's moaning encouraged me. Then I started massaging his hole with my tongue. And before I knew it I could see dad relaxing. He opened up for his own son. Wanting me inside him. Without applying any pressure my tongue went inside. To be so intimate and taste your dad there is hard describe. I could not have imagined it. I took my time. Holding his hands meanwhile. Feeling dad squeezing my hands. It was his way of indicating the amount of pleasure. When his ass was completely relaxed and lopen I entered a precum covered finger in his inner sanctum. I went deeper until I found the core of his sex. Dad's prostate. Massaging this sacred spot did it. He moaned. Asking me to fuck him. To breed him. I kept fingering him. I wanted him to beg me for my cum.

"Greg, give it to me. Seed me with your hot cum. I beg you."

But I continued fingering him. Pleasuring him beyond anything he ever experienced.

"Please, Greg. Please."

That is what I was waiting for. I asked him to lie on his back. Pulled his legs up. Looking into his craving eyes I pushed the head of my cock against his perfectly open pucker. Without any effort I went inside him. It felt so good. I did not move. We looked into eachothers eyes. I could feel his sphincter contracting. Playing with my cock. Clearly he had done this before! I started thrusting. Pushing my cock deeper and deeper each time. My nuts hitting his pereneum. All the while we locked our eyes. Then I slowly bowed forward and we kissed. My cock and tongue inside him I felt one with him. And before I knew it I came. I was seeding him. We kept kissing while I ejaculated. When my nuts were empty we continued making out. I stayed inside him. Amazing to be inside him while my cock was soft. Beautiful. I slowly moved out of him. Holding his legs up I saw his cunt dripping some cum. I asked him to relax. Not to be afraid to let go. Finally a stream of semen was flowing. I licked my cum from his hole. Went back to kiss him with my cum filled mouth.

"Greg, you are an amazing lover. I feel so good. I do not even feel the need to cum right now. I want to enjoy this moment with you. Thank you so much for giving your semen to me. It is full circle now. My seed created you. You now give it back to me."

"Yes. That was amazing. Let me once more lick your ass clean. "

After which we had a cool down. Had a shower. Made tea. Relaxed. Enjoyed these wonderful sensations.

-----

Still naked we made dinner in the kitchen. Feeling eachothers body now and then. A brush of our hairy thighs. A hand on a buttock. I felt so happy. After dinner we just relaxed. The apartment still hot I went for a cold shower. And douche. I wanted to be ready for dad to cum inside me. When I dried myself I saw dad in the door opening. He had a hardon. Instantly I was hard too. We hugged. Kissed. Our hard cocks touching.

"Dad, I am so hungry for your cum."

"I cannot wait to feel you inside, Greg. You make me so damn horny."

In the bedroom we paused in front of the mirror. I was so amazed how much alike we were. Our cocks big and hard, almost identical. I lay down. Dad kissed my neck. I felt his tongue over my spine going down until he reached my crack. Slower now until his tongue reached my pucker. Slowly he pushed his soft warm tongue deeper and deeper inside me. Almost better than a hard cock. He moved his hands on the inside of my thighs.

"I want to fuck you. Hard and deep with all my love."

I could feel the head of his cock pushing. I relaxed and slowly I could feel dad's cock move deeper and deeper. In a beautiful rythm he was riding me. His hands caressing my back. I moaned. Begging him to fuck me harder. When I felt a warm explosion of cum inside me I started crying. Tears streaming down my face. He moved me around so I was on my back. Dad softly caressed my chest and belly. Tears in his eyes. We kissed.

"Greg, are you ok?"

"Yes, I am ok. I am so happy. These are tears that come from deep inside. I needed you touch me there, deep inside. All men should experience this."

He put his lips around my still hard precum dripping cock. He did not need to do anything. It was as if my cock was waiting for this. I started ejaculating and endless flow of semen. Feeding dad. We kissed again. I could taste my own semen in his mouth. I looked into his eyes and for the first time i saw love. I felt it deep inside. Finally. I was reborn.

End of part one.

Part 2: Greg meets Ron and Chris.

Part 3: Greg and Ron.

[reidgraygubler]

5 Times Aaron Hotchner Cares For You +1 Time You Care For Him

Title: 5 Times Hotchner Cares For You +1 Time You Care For Him

Request: kinda, not really

Couple: Aaron Hotchner/Reader

Category: Angst w/ the littlest bit of fluff

Content Warning: swearing (if any), several instances of injuries, assault, car accident, being sick (nothing serious, just a bad cold), gun violence (but no one actually getting shot), talks of near death experiences, canon consistent injuries (hotch's injuries from foyet), season 9 ep 5 spoilers/mentions, vague mentions of something bad happening to kids

Word Count: 5,601

Summary: the five times aaron hotchner takes care of you when you’re injured, plus the one time you take care of him when he’s injured.

A/N: this was writing for pom’s discord server fic swap! I was paired with the wonderful @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff! I took a few of his favorite tropes and prompts he likes and came up with this! The first two instances there’s no relationship, but by the end it’s sort of an implied relationship. Also, I binged dharma and greg while writing this… So Hotch definitely has more of a domestic vibe in a few of the instances. thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

One

It was a regular day. You stayed behind to help Aaron and Jennifer work over some cases. The extra pair of eyes would be nice, and maybe they’d be able to get home sooner rather than later. You knew it’d be a late-night no matter what. So you decided to work through your files quickly.

Although, you wished you’d slow it down a bit. You wished you slowed down after you moved a paper just the right way across your finger. A hiss came from your lips as you dropped the paper and file to the table.

“You alright?” Jennifer looked over at you as you stood up. Looking down at your fingers, liquid red came seeping from your finger. Your nose wrinkled as you looked at the injury. It took you a minute to realize what happened as you started at the minor injury across your finger.

“Papercut,” you winced as you looked between Jennifer and the cut on your finger. You brought your finger to your lips, sucking on the wound like a child would have done.

“I have bandaids in my office,” Aaron spoke, looking up from his file and right at you. You looked over at him, your finger still in your mouth. You felt a little weird staring at your boss and superior with your finger in your mouth. “Here, I’ll go get you one,” he looked up at you as he stood. You stared at him, watching him leave the conference room.

“I should go with him, right?” You asked, looking back at JJ. She looked up from her file and right at you.

“He offered you bandaids quicker than I could,” JJ laughed as she lowered her file to the table. You raised an eyebrow at her. “I’d go with him,” a smile grew on JJ’s lips as she looked back at her file.

“Right, I should,” you mumbled as you rushed to your feet. JJ grinned, watching as you rushed out of the room. You were quick as you rushed down the platform, going right to Aaron’s office.

“Unfortunately, I only have Batman bandaids. Is that alright?” Aaron looked up at you, holding a bandaid with Batman and Robin on it. You looked at him, feeling a small smile grow on your lips before nodding.

“Batman will work just fine,” you laughed as you met Aaron in the middle of his office.

“I don’t have anything to clean it with either. So you’ll just have to go to the bathroom. Next time I’ll be better prepared.” Aaron laughed as you took the band-aid from him and looked down at it. “Jack’s the one who picked the theme of the band-aids… Insisted that superheroes help heal all owies.” Aaron laughed again as he watched you examine the theme.

“Oh, no, really. Batman is perfectly fine," You spoke as you peeled the band-aid open and put it over your cut. “And, who said there would be a next time…?”

Two

You sat at the table, sweat pouring off you, while you somehow shivered like a leaf in the wind. You were simultaneously hot and cold, and you couldn’t stop your nose from running like a character in a Tom Hanks movie. You didn’t even realize Aaron was talking to you, everything he said to you went in one ear and out the other.

“Are you even listening to me?” Aaron stopped talking about the case and looked right at you. You looked up from the table and at him.

“Yeah, yeah you said something about…” Your words trailed off, just like any other thought you had at that moment.

“That’s not even close to what I said,” Aaron spoke as he stared at you. He placed the file he was holding on the table and stepped up to you. “Are you feeling fine?”

“I feel great, Aaron. Really. Let’s just get back to work so we can go home,” you rambled as you tried to hold down a cough. Aaron looked down at you as he placed the back of his hand on your forehead. To anyone on the outside, our relationship was strictly professional. But behind closed doors, you both had a pretty simple and normal relationship. It would have seemed weird only to the people in a work environment. But you were used to it and love that side of him.

“Nope, you’re going to the hotel. You’re burning up.” Aaron folded his arms over his chest as he stared at you.

“But I feel fine.” “You’re burning up.”

“But-”

“You’re going back to the hotel,” he spoke sternly, "Don’t even think about calling Garcia to spy on the case. Go back to the hotel, and get some rest.” Aaron looked down at you. You stared up at him, trying to hold back the sneeze or hold down the cough that was making you suffocate.

“I feel… I feel…” Unfortunately, you were cut off by a sneeze, then a cough, and then another sneeze, “Fine!” You tried not to shout, but at that point, you had never felt so… defeated. So you finally let your shoulders fall as you looked up at Aaron. “I’ll go back to the hotel,” you grumbled before grabbing your things.

“Call me if you need anything, please.” Aaron stared at you as you struggled to put your jacket on. He was quiet as he walked over to help you, grabbing a sleeve to your jacket and slipping it on you. You looked up at him with dewy eyes.

“Be safe out there, please,” you quietly pleaded. Aaron pressed his lips to your forehead, which he would regret because of how sweaty you were. You were happy it was just you and Aaron in the precinct, as all the other members of the team were at separate locations.

“Let me know when you get to the hotel.” Aaron walked beside you out to the parking lot. You looked up at him and nodded. “Get all the rest in the world, and drink plenty of fluids.” He looked down at you as he pulled the door open for you.

“Okay, Doctor Reid,” you scoffed and glared at him as you slipped into the car. Aaron returned the glare before pushing the door to the car shut.

The drive to the hotel was quiet, and thankfully pretty quick. You weren’t sure if you were happy to sit this case out. Sure it was nice to have a break from the stress. But you did enjoy being with the team and actually working.

When you finally got to the hotel, you were quick to change from your business-work attire and into your pajamas. You clicked the TV on and laid in bed. You weren’t sure when you drifted off, but you awoke to the door of your room clicking shut, and in a puddle of your own sweat.

“It’s just me,” Aaron spoke into the darkroom. You reached over and blindly turned the lamp on. Aaron was standing at the foot of the bed holding two paper bags in hand. “Sorry to wake you,” he whispered as he cringed. You assumed you looked like a mess as you sat up. You felt like one at least.

“It’s fine. It wasn’t restful anyway,” you sighed as you rubbed your face. It was an obvious lie too. You hadn’t slept that hard since before you started at the BAU. Aaron knew for a fact that you were sleeping pretty hard. The line of drool coming from your mouth, the exhausted look in your eyes, and the indentations in your skin from where the blankets were indicated just how hard you were sleeping.

“How are you feeling?” Aaron asked as he placed the bags on the table. You watched as he pulled out a bottle of orange juice, a box of popsicles, and a bowl of soup.

“Like I ran headfirst into a brick wall then hit by a semi-truck.” You spoke truthfully. Aaron raised an eyebrow as he walked over to you with the soup in one hand and the orange juice in another. “It’s probably a good thing I didn’t stay at the station with you.”

“Well there was a reason why I sent you back here,” Aaron laughed as he placed the two items on the nightstand beside you. “I also got you NyQuil and Ibuprofen. And, I can get you ice from the machine down the hall,” he continued as he sat beside you on the bed.

“You’re the best,” you whispered as you picked up the soup. “How’s the case going?”

“It’s going. There’s been another victim,” Aaron honestly answered. You frowned as you looked away from the soup and up at him.

“I wish there was something I could do to help.” And it was true. But there was a little bit of a lie in your words. You’d much rather stay in the hotel room wrapped up in blankets watching movies on your phone.

“You’re helping by staying here and getting rest. We don’t want Reid overreacting to you being with the rest of us,” Aaron laughed as he looked at you. You laughed and nodded.

“You’re right, you’re right,” you sighed and sat back in the bed, “You should get rest too. You’ll have an early morning….”

“Now… I’m the one who’s taking care of you,” Aaron scolded. You stared at him before blinking slowly. “I’m at least going to shower first. You better be asleep by the time I get out.”

“Can do, Sir… But only if you give me that bottle of NyQuil first.”

Three

“Get down!” You shouted as you looked at the victim. The little girl looked over at you with terror in her eyes. You looked at the little girl, then up at the unsub. “Let the girl go, and maybe we can talk about a deal,” You spoke softly as you lowered your gun. Your partner in crime and in life, Aaron, appeared by your side, his weapon still in hand.

“Get out of here,” the unsub muttered as he shoved the little girl towards you and Aaron. The little girl went right to Aaron’s arms, causing you to look over at him.

“Take her, I got this,” You whispered as you nodded to the girl. Aaron wanted to argue, but he knew it was useless. Aaron glanced at you one last time before lifting the girl up and leaving.

“Look, I’m putting my weapon away,” You looked back at the unsub as you holstered your gun. The unsub looked at you for a moment before tricking you. The way the unsub moved made you think he was going one way, when in reality he went the other.

Before you knew it, the unsub threw a fist at your face before shoving you up against the wall. If you weren’t sitting on the ground, you would have chased after him. But you were too busy recollecting yourself to bother. It was a shock and everything happened so quickly. So it was a relief when you heard Aaron’s booming voice renter the room.

“Stay down!” Aaron yelled as he looked down at the unsub. You sat against the wall, your hand over your eye where the unsub punched you. Aaron was quick as he put cuffs on the already down unsub. The way Aaron glanced over at you worried you a little bit. You could tell there was a tiny bit of worry in his eye. You two would have to wait till other members of the team showed up before anything would happen.

“I’m fine, Aaron,” you mumbled as you stumbled to your feet. Aaron glanced down at the unsub before going to you to help you to your feet. “I said I was fine,” you whisper once you were standing behind him.

“You go outside, and get yourself some help. I’ll be right behind you with him,” Aaron’s grip on your arm was tight as you stood. You glanced at Aaron with a raised brow.

“I’m fine, Aaron,”

“Just listen to me,” Aaron insisted as he guided you towards the door. You looked at Aaron and the unsub one last time before going outside.

The rest of the team was by your side, bringing you to an ambulance.

“Where’s Hotch,” Emily asked as one of the EMTs helped you. You graciously took the ice pack from the EMT and held it to your face.

“He said he’d be right behind me. Is the little girl okay?” You asked as you worried more about the little girl, rather than yourself. Emily gestured over to where the little girl was reunited with her family. A wave of relief washed over you once you saw the family back together.

Aaron was quick to your side when he was outside. You didn’t want to question why he took so long inside with the unsub. You were just happy he was back beside you.

“Bastard packed quite the punch,” you nervously chuckled as you looked to the ground. Aaron leaned against the ambulance rig before looking over at you.

“Next time I’m staying with the unsub,” Aaron muttered as he rested a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him as you dropped your hand and ice pack from your face.

“You know, Aaron,” you started but let your words trail off with a chuckle.

“Are you going to finish that thought?” Aaron asked as he raised an eyebrow at you. You laughed again and shook your head.

“It’s no big deal that I got punched by an unsub. It wasn’t the first, and it most certainly won’t be the last time it’s happened,” You spoke softly as you tried to reassure your partner. Aaron breathed out a laugh and nodded.

Four

The unsub was cornered. Stuck between you, Aaron, and a brick wall with no way over it. You and the team had profiled everything about this guy perfectly. Or so you and Aaron had thought. You hoped there was an easy way for this to end. But you ended up being wrong when he raised his weapon in your direction. Aaron was doing everything he could to talk the unsub of the edge, to get him to lower his weapon. But it all ended up being for nothing.

For a brief moment, you weren’t entirely sure what had happened. All you knew was there was a loud bang, followed by a second bang, followed by you fell back to the ground. The wind was knocked right from your lungs, and breathing seemed to be a chore instead of a freewill thing. A sudden pain was in your chest, and sitting up was the furthest thing from your mind.

“Are you alright?” Aaron looked down at you with wide eyes.

“Am I dead?” You asked once you were able to take a deep breath. It was still a struggle for you. Aaron offered you a hand to help you sit up. You looked up at him before looking down at the bulletproof, kevlar vest. A bullet was lodged in the vest, saving your life.

“No, you aren’t.” Aaron helped you take the vest off. You sat back against the wall, the pain in your chest only growing.

“Are you sure?” You asked again, looking at Aaron with a small, but nervous, smile. Aaron returned the look with a raised brow, silently telling you now was no time for joking.

“You’ll have a bruise on your chest, but you should be fine. I would still get it checked out, just in case.” He added before helping you to your feet.

“Is he dead?” You looked down at the ground, your eyes instantly going to the cold body of your unsub. Aaron looked over at you with a crease in his brow and a solemn look in his eye.

“I couldn’t take any chances that he’d try to kill you. He’d already shot at you once.” Aaron explained once you had realized he’d killed the unsub. You understood why he did it, though. And frankly, you’d do the same if your places were swapped, you thought.

“Are the rest of the team and the police on their way?” You asked, already assuming the answer.

“Called them when you were down. Should be here at any minute.”

Five

“Are you alright?” Aaron asked as he looked over at you. The expression that he wore on his face was… exhausted and sad. You were sure you had the same expression, more on the sadder side. This last case was… a rough one to say the least. You tried not to think about the details of it, but all you could think about was Jack, and your nieces and nephews, and their safety. But it was hard when that was the only thing that occupied your mind on the ride home.

“No,” You muttered as you looked over at him. It was hard for you to hide the tears in your eyes. “I just wish there was more we could do,” You sighed deeply before bringing a hand to your face.

“We did everything we could do. You know that,” Aaron whispered as he looked over at you. You glanced at him, noting that he was still looking at you. “It’s always hard to know how things like this play out.” He added as he reached out to hold your hand. The grip he had on your hand was firm, tight enough to let you know he was there.

“No, no I know… It just… Sucks… I couldn’t even imagine being in the position as those parents.” You shivered with your words. Aaron glanced at you. You wiped your cheeks and shook your head. “Sometimes I wonder why I’m still even in this occupation. You ever wonder that?” You asked as you looked up at him. Aaron’s jaw steeled as he kept his eyes on the road. “Because, like… To me… I don’t know… With all the shit we see… Sometimes I’d rather just stay home with Jack,” You concluded with another sigh. That time Aaron looked over at you with a certain sadness in his eyes.

“I understand.” Aaron nodded. You weren’t sure about his tone. Though there was some honesty, at the same time you picked some uncertainty. You knew how long he’d been in the BAU, and you knew it’d be an even longer time before he left. He’s seen some shit. And, well, been through a lot of it as well. He’d fallen victim to a number of unsubs and lost more than one thing.

“You’re bad at this.” You stared at him as you pressed your head into the headrest. Aaron had a sad smile grow across his lips before glancing at you.

“I’m just a sounding board.”

“But… But you’re also my boss… And my partner… You should be more than a sounding board, Aaron.” You pointed out as you sat up a bit. “I might take some time off. This case really… It’s really affecting me in a bad way.”

“I’m sure Jack would love that. And Jessica,” Aaron laughed sadly as he glanced at you. “I’m always here for you. You know that. And if you feel like you have to take some time off, then I’ll be by your side then too.” He glanced over at you. You swallowed roughly before nodding.

“I’ll have to tell my boss when we get back to the office,” you laughed lightly. Aaron returned the laughter and shook his head.

“Don’t worry. He already knows.”

Plus One

When Aaron had gotten home from the hospital, you made it a point to take as much time as needed off so you could help him. Part of you thought everyone just assumed you were the one to go to Aaron’s apartment to help him. Of course, it was a fair assumption.

It was a rough scene when you arrived at Aaron’s apartment. It was a mess, but you partly expected that. It was more of a cluttered mess, with Jack’s toys and Aaron’s files strewn around the place. Maybe you’d help the pair out by cleaning up a little bit for them, too.

Jack was with his Aunt Jessica for the time being. He didn’t need to be exposed to the injuries and pain his father was going through. It wasn’t fair to the young boy. Jack had already gone through so much… What, with losing his mother, and nearly losing his father?

You quietly brought your go bag and backpack up the stairs and towards Aaron’s room. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve spent the night at his house, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Although this time was different.

“What are you doing here?” Aaron asked as you entered his bedroom. You looked down at him with confusion and mild anger on your face.

“You… You had no one to take care of you,” You whispered as you looked at him. Aaron’s features softened slightly, but you could still see his own confusion and annoyance on his face. “What? With Jessica taking care of Jack, and the team off doing… team-y things… I figured I’d help,” you shrugged as you dropped your bags to the foot of Aaron’s bed.

“I don’t need anyone taking care of me. I can do it myself,” Aaron stubbornly refused your offer. Although it wasn’t an offer. You were determined to help him whether he wanted it or not.

“Don’t be silly, Aaron,” You crossed your arms over your chest as you stared at Aaron, “I’ll take care of you." You looked down at Aaron as he readjusted his position. You grimaced as Aaron winced from pain. You were quick to his side, trying to help. But it was clear Aaron didn’t want it. You’d be lying if you said his refusal hurt your heart.

“It’s rotten work,” Aaron said once he was finally in a comfortable position. You looked down at him, feeling your face fall slightly from a sudden sadness.

“Not to me… Not if it’s you,” You whispered softly before taking Aaron’s hand into yours. Aaron looked up at you, a certain pain in his eyes. You didn’t question it as you looked at him. “Please, Aaron… Let me help you… The team doesn’t need me right now. But you do,” You kept your voice low as you worried it’d crack.

Aaron looked back up at you, watching as tears fell from your eyes.

“I won’t be easy on you,” Aaron looked at you as he spoke. You smiled softly before nodding.

“That’s okay. I’ll help you. That’s why I’m here,” You nodded before you brought his hand to your lips. Your lips rested right on the back of Aaron’s hand as you stared at him. “Think of it as payback for all those times you’ve helped me. It’s only fair.”

{***}{***}{***}

Of course, you went into this thinking it’d be easy. You thought that Aaron would help you help him. The first day was easy. But the following days were rougher. You weren’t expecting Aaron to argue with you. It was a fight to try and convince him he needed help.

Like today, Aaron had to go to the bathroom. And when you went to help him, he fought. You loved him, that was why you were helping him. But he was beginning to test your limits.

“Please stop fighting me on this, Aaron. I know you know what’s best for you, and you know yourself better than I know you… But you have to take your medicine and get rest,” your voice wavered as you looked down at the man. Aaron looked up at you, a scowl on his face and a stone-cold glare in his eyes.

“I don’t need or want your help,” Aaron hissed as he pulled his arm from you. You stared at him, watching him wince as he adjusted the blanket over his legs.

“If that was the case then you would’ve pissed the bed,” you scoffed as you stared at him as you folded your arms across your chest. Aaron looked up at you, the hardness on his face softening a little bit. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me. But you made it very clear that you don’t.” You returned the glare before leaving his bedroom.

You quietly left the room, resigning to the living room where you had bedding set up on the couch. All of the belongings you had brought over were strewn across the coffee table. Various case files sat open, highlighters and pens sitting on them. They were files you were helping Aaron with so he wouldn’t fall behind workwise.

With a deep sigh, you sat on the couch, pulling a blanket around your body before you picked up a file. You worked in silence, but you were on high alert waiting for a call of help. But Aaron was stubborn, you knew there’d be no call.

You wished you could just help Aaron without the fight. It was exhausting for both you and Aaron. The days the team had off, a few of them would visit and help out with what they could. But Aaron still refused anyone’s help. You could tell that it was even frustrating for the team. And they could tell it was frustrating for you when you faked a smile as you exited Aaron’s room. You had nothing better to do than refuse their help when they offered.

You couldn’t help but let out deep, frustrated sighs as you continued to read over files. Some things didn’t make much sense, so when you needed help in that area, you would give a call to Emily or Penelope for the help. Thankfully they were able to quickly lend a hand.

Time was quick as it ticked by. You weren’t even sure what time you had started, but you knew it was late. Sleep would never find its way to you though. No you were too busy staying away, waiting for Aaron’s calls of help.

“You’re still working?” Aaron asked from behind you. That was when you finally looked up at the clock and saw that it was 3:30 in the morning. It was probably a good thing that Aaron came out at the time he did. You needed a long break, and some sleep.

You looked away from the file and over at Aaron. He stood a few feet away from the couch, his robe hanging off his frame as he stood. That reminded you that you really needed to change out of your day clothes and into your pajamas.

“Well when you’re the one who constantly works and you’re out sick… I’m the next best person since I know everything you do. So I figured…” You shrugged looking back down at the file on your lap and highlighter in hand. “And you wouldn’t let me help you.”

“That’s how you’re helping?” Aaron asked as he stepped around the couch to sit beside you. You looked up at him, watching him press a hand over his injuries.

“How else am I supposed to help?” you scoffed, looking over at Aaron again, “I mean, you know what’s best for you, Aaron. I’m just trying to help and follow what the doctors told you to do. You’re just too…” You let your words trail off, not finishing your thought. It wasn’t mean, you thought. But you didn’t want to take that chance.

“I…” Aaron started but failed when you cut him off.

“You almost died… Twice… All I want to do is help you. That’s all anyone wants to do, is help you.” Your voice broke off at the end. You had given up the fight. There was nothing left in you to keep going. So, you looked away from Aaron and tried to ignore the tears rolling down your cheeks.

Aaron silently reached out to hold your hand. You looked at him, your eyes wide as you stared.

“I’ve just never had help with…” Aaron’s words trailed off. You blinked slowly as you turned to face him more. You watched as he struggled to stand, and you could tell that he was trying to hide the real pain he was actually in.

“Come on.” He gently pulled your hand as he stood. You looked at him, your eyes wide and dewy. “The way you can help me is to lie in bed with me. You can keep working, or you can just lie beside me. That’s how you can help.”

“Aaron...”

“I don’t care what you have to say. You’re coming with me.” Aaron looked down at you with a furrowed brow. There was a certain softness to his features.

“Fine,” You whispered as you begrudgingly stood to your feet. Aaron looked over at you before taking the lead back into the bedroom. You were both quiet as you slipped into the bed.

“Will you rest now?” You looked over at him as he laid beside you. You were too focused on being annoyed and wanting to help him that you didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep. You didn’t know when, but he had also had an arm thrown over your body. Usually the roles were reversed. And you realized just how much you actually loved Aaron, even though he’s stubborn and hard-headed.

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

[fw00shy]

What Happens After Summer is Up to You

Harry/Draco | T | 1.6k | post-war summer at hogwarts, a little story about letting things go and not making a big fuss over it, fluff honestly but not too sweet | ao3 link

for @drarrymicrofic: what if he wants ken not barbie. ty @vukovich for the beta 💙

(i)

Draco returned to Hogwarts the year after the war for the same reason that got him into this mess in the first place: because he was told to. "Keep your head down and count yourself lucky," his father had said, and Draco packed his bags the same as he did every year, having learned nothing about making his own decisions.

That would come later.

"Some people need a little more help in life than others," Pansy said with a pitying pat of his bedcovers as she watched him pack.

Pansy more than passed her NEWTs with the help of Polyjuice and a morally compromised Ravenclaw. A two-pm Portkey to Zanzibar waited for her in celebration of her well-deserved accomplishments.

Draco picked up an engraved wooden case and opened it to reveal his father's Snitch, the one from the year Lucius had won the House Cup. Draco packed it with him every year as a good luck charm, but looking at it now brought upon a wave of unease.

"Who else is going?" Draco asked Pansy. She was wearing a bruise-purple miniskirt and black lipstick that drained her complexion as gaunt as a Thestral. Draco noted this with petty satisfaction.

Pansy flopped back on Draco's bed. "I dunno. Everyone, I suppose. Daphne, of course. Blaise. Theo. Greg, maybe? But he says he might not have the money, which I think is for the best really — he's just been so sad, probably wants some time alone, to, you know, process — though Blaise said he'd cover for him…" Pansy sat back up. "Draky baby, you aren't sad about missing out, are you?"

Draco snapped down the lid to the Snitch and stashed it in his trunk. "Don't call me that."

"Don't be like that," Pansy cooed. She got off the bed and flounced toward him, her every step light with barely constrained exuberance. "You know it won't be the same without you. I'll owl you a nice prezzy, alright? Look at me."

Pansy's eyes were black and glittering, her mouth hardened in a crocodile smile. She looked like she was ready to move on with her life, which she might as well go and do. Nobody was stopping her, anyway.

(ii)

Hogwarts held preparatory courses over the summer for Muggleborns, and the newly anointed Headmistress singlehandedly taught them all. There were twelve students in total across the years, and the terms of Draco's probation stated that he was to aid in their education.

"Studying over the summer… bet this is Granger's idea of fun," Draco grumbled under his breath over dinner the first week.

"Mine, actually," Potter said around a mouthful of peas. "She helped write the curriculum, but then she scored an internship at the Ministry."

They were sitting at the teacher's table, which meant Draco could talk to Potter without having to meet his eye. As such, they'd spoken a few times, though primarily for passing the butter and pepper and whatnot. (Their fingers brushed on occasion. Though never on purpose, of course.)

"I'm happy for her," Harry said.

"It's a good curriculum." Draco coughed. Dear Circe, complimenting Granger… did he have no filter?

(iii)

Teaching Quidditch to ten-year-olds was Draco's least favourite part of his sentence. You'd think sharing his joy of flying would be his only solace in a soulless summer cleaning up after children barely coordinated enough to wipe their own arses, and you would be horribly, disgustingly wrong. Turns out most Muggle-raised children had a healthy dose of vertigo that often manifested into projectile vomiting from a metre up.

"I just don't get it," Potter said as he Scourgified puke from Draco's hair for the third time that afternoon. Their students were long gone, taken off to the kitchens after one plummeted to the ground in a cannonball of chunder.

"Of course you don't," Draco huffed. Not just anyone could fly like Harry Potter, the youngest Seeker in a century despite never setting foot on a pitch before Hogwarts. "Like any normal dunce can be Harry Potter. You're stupid to think anyone has it as easy as you."

Potter threw a fist at Draco's eye. Draco returned it to Potter's chest, shoving Potter down to the ground. It felt good to hurt, so good that he nearly whined in disappointment when Potter froze and dropped his fist mid-air.

"That was a compliment," Potter said, his face cracked open with bewilderment. "You — God, Malfoy. You mess me up." He got up from the ground, his knees grass-stained and his face bruised with mud. Draco watched the anger bloom red and splotchy over Potter's cheeks and tried not to cower when Potter drew his wand. Was this what Voldemort saw before he died?

Potter muttered something unintelligible, and Draco felt the pain siphoning away from his body. He was light all over, as though Potter had managed to take away all his wounds, even the ones within him, so that there was nothing to Draco but air.

Draco watched Potter disappear back into the castle before standing. He walked through the halls in a daze until he ran into the Headmistress, who told him to clean up before he set a bad example for the incoming First-Years. It wasn't until he was freshly showered and pulling on his robes again that he realised that his Dark Mark was gone.

(iv)

They started tossing around a Quaffle in the late afternoons after Quidditch class. They were already in their leathers, and saying yes was as easy as lifting off the ground. Throwing around a Quaffle was loads harder than chasing after a Snitch, but neither were practised at it, which helped, as they dove after missed catches with all the vigour of a game-ending Snitch. They flew until the daylight ran out and their breaths with it, sweaty and exhausted and so late into dinner that they were sent to the kitchens to scavenge leftovers.

It was a Sunday afternoon in mid-August when Pansy's promised owl brought Draco a box of chocolates; too many for Draco to eat alone, so it was only sensible for him to share as he would have with Greg or Vince in the past. He walked the long corridor to Potter's door and knocked, chocolates in hand.

It was a terrible mistake. Potter wore only boxers, his glasses askew and his hair still sleep-rumpled (despite it being The Afternoon!). Draco stumbled back as though slapped. Potter honestly had no right being so effortlessly attractive on top of everything else he had going for him. It was like seeing Dumbledore in his sleeping hat, or maybe the first time Draco caught Pansy on the toilet and realised that girls pooped: all wrong, completely wrong, he really ought to go, perhaps another time —

Potter dragged him inside with only the gentlest roll of his eyes.

The inside of Potter's room was as cosy as Mother's cashmere jumper, only uglier (the wrong colours). Potter ate an embarrassing number of chocolates while proclaiming, "I dunno where it all goes, honest; can't gain a stone," and Draco was so disgusted by the utter unfairness of life that he fell asleep over Potter's bed and had to sneak back to his own room in the wee hours of the morning.

(v)

It wasn't meant to be an open invitation. But Potter followed Draco all the way back to his room after dinner the next day, and Draco didn't manage to shut the door on him in time.

Potter looked around, his head swivelling around comically, like an owl. And then his eyes narrowed on Lucius's unopened letters piled high on Draco's desk.

"What's in them?"

"Dunno," Draco said. "Directives, if I had to guess. Rather pointless, considering I'm stuck under McGonagall's iron fist until the summer's out." Potter opened one anyway, and Draco watched anger carve lines between his brows with some bemusement. Was this what it was like to have Harry Potter on his side? It was a bit like hanging around a guard crup, or maybe a guard dragon.

Potter burned the letter. He burned them all before returning to his room.

Draco sat on his bed and stared at the scorched top of his desk. He wasn't sure how he felt about it all being gone. Part of him was relieved, sure, but mostly the loss numbed his chest through.

Then Draco remembered his father's Snitch.

Draco summoned the Snitch to him, and it burst forth from the bottom of his trunk amid a cacophony of torn textbooks and scattered winter cloaks. Draco caught the box in his right hand and tucked it under him before gingerly stepping over the mess to his window, where he took out the Snitch and let it go. And then all that was left of Lucius in Draco's room was Draco himself.

The future unfolded before him, cold and barren to the ends of the earth. What was he supposed to do now?

(vi)

In the last week of summer, Potter told Draco to call him Harry, and then he asked Draco what he was going to do with his life.

Draco said, "I dunno. Get a job at the Ministry. Marry Pansy, I suppose. And you with Ginny, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry said and took Draco's face into his hands and kissed him.

Was this it? Was this what all those miserable years surmounted to? This crystalline moment, the one that Draco waited for his whole life. And now it took him by surprise.

Harry's lips were very chapped, though his mouth held the sweet promise of fresh grass and sunshine. Whatever that meant. Draco kissed him back. And then he said it wasn't fair that Harry was so good at kissing as he was at everything else, honestly — sunshine? Was there anything Harry struggled at? Because he was so bloody perfect that it made Draco want to stomp on his face and throw up all over him.

"You're the only person in the world who thinks I'm perfect," Harry said and kissed him again.

(vi)

What happened after summer is up to you. 💙

Read on AO3

[newtonsheffield]

Hello friend!

You know how much I love the BSU and Kathony and your fics, drabbles and headcanons are a gift! Especially Spicy Sunday 😏 The Kathony Spicy Sunday this week was a delight and very 🥵🥵🥵 And, I’ve realized I haven’t made my Spicy Sunday request yet 😅 Funny enough, mine isn’t for Kathony (don’t worry I’ll think of something for them, too) but for Lucy/Gregory.

As we know, Gregory is our sweet, hopeless romantic Bridgerton boi, but Lucy does bring out a side of him. They do have 9 kids after all 🤣 Now, in the Kathony Spicy Sunday you mentioned that Anthony wasn’t the only Bridgerton boy unable to keep his hands to himself around the office. Can we maybe see Gregory being the other one? 👀👀👀

Ahh, my buddy, my pal, You know how to get me.

Gregory Bridgerton is a Jedi in the streets and a Sith in the sheets, Change my mind! (That's a star wars reference that you won't get because you haven't seen them. A constant dagger to my heart I assure you!) You can take that boy home to mum, and he knows exactly how to get a gal where she's going. We love to see it!

Okay. Getting Handsy at work feat. Gregory and La La la Lucy!

Lucy Abernathy was many things, and she was proud of all of them. But most of all she prided herself on being appropriate in all situations. She always knew what to say at weddings, what to write in group birthday cards, and what to say when condolences were necessary. Lucy Abernathy was carefully pieced together, and unflappable. That was, provided she was not around her boyfriend Gregory Bridgerton.

Everything about Gregory seemed to set her on edge, hyperaware of his presence. Whether she liked i or not, eve before they were together, she was aware of the intricacies of his schedule. He arrived at 7:45am, he made a cup of coffee, he waited for Anthony, He sat in the tea room and had a toasted sandwich from 1-2pm and he left at 5:45pm most days. Routine, like clockwork. Until one day at 12:55pm he'd grabbed a duffel bag and headed fr the lift. He'd returned an hour later in a tank top and shorts and suddenly, the office had felt very, very warm.

And really it was very hard to concentrate when the man for whom you were quietly pining away was parading around in front of you with his unfairly muscular arms on display, and his stupid kind smile. At least Kate pretended not to notice that Lucy kept dropping things whenever Gregory came back from the gym, waving happily at her, no idea of the apparent sex pest she was. And she'd thought it would get easier when she started dating him. But apparently, she didn't know anything anymore.

Now whenever she saw him walk back into the office, her travel mug in his hand, his own water bottle in the other, heat started pooling low in her stomach. because she knew. She knew what it felt like to have those arms tight around her, his fingertips bruising her thighs, to feel the hard planes of his abs against her own body. Just the thought made her shiver. And Gregory knew it too.

"Hey Luce." He said, in what Lucy was sure he thought was a casual voice one day, dropping a light kiss on her cheek, a light sheen of sweat still on his forehead. Settling himself on her desk, his muscles flexing slightly, and Lucy was already burning. She cleared her throat. "How was the gym?" They were both pretending to be casual this afternoon apparently. Greg shrugged, one of his hands starting to draw little patterns on the fabric of her skirt. "It was... hot in there today." His eyes flicked to hers, usually a light hazel, dark behind his glasses, and her breath caught. Her mind desperately screaming at her to shut this down, they were at work for fuck's sake. Bt apparently, she wasn't listening today.

She let her eyes rake obviously over the way his singlet clung to his muscles, his shorts tight. "Yes, you look very sweaty." her pulse thundered in her ears as Greg leant towards her, trying to ignore how he smelled like aftershave and something inherently more masculine, the way he always did after, heat pooling low in her stomach as he chuckled in her ear breathlessly. "Can I get you a little sweaty?" his lips ghosted over her ear, his hand inching underneath her skirt and- "It's just in here, Greg!" She said loudly standing from her desk suddenly, and swinging the door to Kate's office open, dragging him inside, and snapping the door closed behind them.

And as soon as she did, Gregory was on her. His lips claiming hers almost possessively, their teeth clashing together, his tongue making positively filthy motions against hers a promise of more, as he walked her backwards, until her legs hit the edge of the desk, his huge frame dwarfing her, crowding her against the desk in a slightly thrilling way, his muscles flexing as he lifted her to perch on the edge. His teeth marking her neck softly, then her chest and then he kneeled in front of her, his hands tugging her knees apart roughly.

Lucy felt her head drift backwards a little overcome by the situation she'd found herself in, Gregory's voice a firm command. "You know the rules, Lucy, Eyes open, please." His eyes never leaving hers as his lips teeth caught on the edge of her stockings marking her as his again, his fingers so close to where she needed them. "Greg, please." A soft whimper ringing through the office and then a sigh when they found their mark, moving gently against her at first, and then more firmly as heat coiled tightly inside her, burning her from the inside out. "Fuck Luce, I've been thinking about this all day. Do you know how hard it is to concentrate when you're right fucking there?" His voice was like gravel and then his mouth joined his hands, moving over her, their soft moans mingling in the silence, her fingers slipping through his hair, heat coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped. A soft scream muffled by her own hand, Gregory's murmered encouragement as she fought for breath. So beautiful Luce, So Good.

His smirk was a little smug when he pulled back, plucking her underwear from the floor as he stood. regarding them carefully before he said "I think I'll keep these for the rest of the day. You can get them back at mine tonight." Kissing her lightly on the cheek as he tugged her from the desk, pulling her skirt down, straightening her blouse for her as her mind struggled to keep up as he tugged her from the office.

To look straight into the unbearably smug eyes of her boss, Gregory's future sister-in-law who was spinning around idly in Lucy's chair. "My, My, My, Lucinda what a pickle. Would you like to be the pot or the kettle today?" Kate said smirking.

And Lucy Abernathy who was always incredibly appropriate desperately wished that the ground would swallow her.

[riversofmars]

Back to Halifax fam! Part three of four. Here comes the angst and a little bit of smut. Enjoy! Rated M (language and sex)

Home Is Not A Place - Part 3: The Mistake

“Caroline…“ Gillian whimpered, her voice far more shaky than Caroline would have expected.

“Yes?“ Caroline hummed against the soft skin at the base of her neck, delighting in the breathless moans and gasps her kisses drew out of her.

“Don’t stop…“ Gillian practically begged, as she arched her body against her.

“How could I…can’t keep my hands off you,“ Caroline growled, tracing lines down her body, to the waistband of her pants.

Gillian bucked her hips to meet her.

Caroline awoke with a start, disoriented, sweaty and frustratingly aroused. As her room slowly came into focus, she realised she had been dreaming. The body pressed to her belonged to her dog Ruth and she rolled away from her.

“For fuck’s sake, Caroline, get your shit together,“ she groaned to herself as she rubbed her face and threw her covers off. She was feeling far too hot, despite the bitter cold outside that the poorly glassed windows barely kept at bay.

Bloody Gillian Greenwood. Caroline stared up at the ceiling, trying to banish the image of Gillian from her mind. Gillian, stripped to her underwear, panting, holding her close… Caroline rubbed her face more firmly, just short of slapping herself. It wasn’t really Gillian’s fault, was it, that she was lying here thinking of her. The sheep farmer was completely oblivious to it, or so Caroline hoped. Gillian would hardly have got soaked in the rain on purpose, just to have an excuse to strip in the lounge, could she? That would imply that she knew of Caroline’s attraction for her. That was highly unlikely, as Caroline had always been careful not to let on too much. It would also imply that she wanted to encourage her for reasons of her own; and there could be no plausible explanation for that.

No, Caroline would have to accept that this was a very one-sided attraction and she would simply have to wait for it to pass.

And yet… Gillian had admitted to having been with a woman before. Why would she do that if not to drop a hint? Caroline implored herself to stop thinking about it. She couldn’t risk how well things were going, it would be ruinous and downright stupid.

No, Caroline would wait for this crush to pass and that was that. But how was she to do that with Gillian right there? Her witty snark, her heart-warming smile, and her great arse? Through no fault of her own, Caroline’s mind conjured up the image of Gillian bending over to rummage through the pile of washing… Caroline pressed her thighs together, her body tense with arousal from the dream she had just woken from.

Was it disrespectful of her to think about Gillian like this? It was becoming clear that she couldn’t stop her thoughts going there. Perhaps, playing it out in her mind would help her get over it, she mused. It would never happen anyway so what was the harm in it? Caroline’s mind was screaming with ludicrous justifications as to why it wasn’t bad to imagine shagging her step sister. The most convincing argument was - of course - that this was the privacy of her own mind. Gillian would never know, and Caroline knew she wouldn’t be able to go to sleep any time soon unless she did something about the state she was in.

Fuck it, she decided, and pushed her hand between her legs. She groaned, frustrated with herself over how wet she was. There was nothing for it, she pushed away her self-consciousness and instead imagined what the sheep farmer could be doing with that talkative mouth of hers. Perhaps she’d be quite eager to please her. She remembered the way she had looked at her during their “thank you“ dinner the other night, reminiscent of a puppy dog looking for praise… A nice way of saying “thank you“ would be on her knees between Caroline’s legs… Caroline bit back a moan as she imagined Gillian’s nails digging into her thighs.

Or maybe, given how headstrong Gillian was, she wouldn’t be submissive at all. Maybe she could have fucked Caroline on that very kitchen table, or the kitchen side, or the sofa, or the bloody wall, any wall, pushing her up against it and Caroline would only be wearing a skirt and…

“Fuck…Gillian…“ Caroline gasped as her fingers did the work she so badly wanted Gillian to do. She wished she could find out what it would be like, really like, to be with Gillian. It was a privilege far too many men had had for Caroline’s taste and she couldn’t believe the injustice of it. She knew she was worth a thousand Robbies, Pauls or Johns. She would not treat her the way they had, she would look after her, care for her, love her…

“You’ve got issues, Caroline, honestly…“ Caroline breathed into the darkness and wiped the sweat off her face.

——

“There you are.“

Gillian looked around when she heard Caroline’s voice. Her face brightened immediately.

“Storm’s cleared,“ she smiled and waved for Caroline to come and sit with her. She was perching on the wall outside the house, looking out onto the fields beyond. The sun was just coming up, it would be a clear day, apart from the fog that was coming up from the damp ground after yesterday’s storm. It was Sunday morning and everywhere around them was quiet still.

“I’m never gonna get used to this view,“ Caroline commented as she came to sit next to Gillian. She hugged her warm mug and pulled her coat tighter around her. It was very chilly, but Gillian didn’t seem to notice. She was drinking her own tea and smiled, looking out into the valley herself.

“Be a shame if you did,“ she chuckled into her drink.

“Is it bad that I’m dreading everyone coming home this afternoon?“ Caroline asked, after a moment of comfortable silence.

“Nah… I’ve been enjoying the peace and quiet too,“ Gillian admitted with a smirk. “Let’s enjoy it while it lasts…“

“We’ll have weekends like this more frequently once Ellie and Raff move out properly…“ Caroline mused and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She wanted to spend as much time alone with Gillian as she possibly could, but she was worried it would only make ignoring her feelings harder. Particularly when Gillian looked as peaceful and content as she did right now.

“Hm,“ Gillian hummed thoughtfully and Caroline frowned.

“What?“

“I just… I was just thinking, after all this… shit. Eddie and John. My numerous misadventures, Robbie! God, Robbie… and you losing Kate, that… after all this, we do deserve something nice, don’t we,“ Gillian didn’t look at her at first, she looked out into the valley, a soft smile playing on her lips that the morning sun lit beautifully.

“If there is any justice in the universe…“ Caroline mumbled, struck by how beautiful she looked in that moment. So utterly at peace and it defied her understanding that she played a part in that.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as settled and… happy… as this…“ Gillian confessed and looked at Caroline with a smile that made the headteacher’s heart nearly jump out of her chest.

“Me neither…“ Caroline admitted and it was true. Not even when she had been happy with John or in the short but lovely time she had had with Kate, had she felt so complete and content. It was that realisation that made her throw caution to the wind. Surely, Gillian wouldn’t be saying these things if there was no deeper meaning behind it all. Maybe she had been dropping hints on purpose all along… Caroline stopped thinking, she just leaned forward and kissed her.

For one beautiful moment, Caroline’s world shrunk to the feeling of Gillian’s soft lips against hers. It felt liberating and right and even better than she had imagined. At least until Gillian pushed her away.

“Caz! What are you…“ The sheep farmer exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. It was like a sobering slap in the face, only, a slap would have probably hurt less.

“I uh- I’m, oh my God, I’m so sorry, Gillian, I just… I got caught up in the moment and…“ Caroline stammered, disoriented, she struggled to grasp what was going on and she cursed herself for her lack of restraint. She had spent all of last night telling herself how she would never ever act on these feelings and here she was, ruining everything! She stared at Gillian who was at a loss for words herself, she had blushed deeply, tensed up, and wild panic was painted all over her face.

“I uh- I’m gonna just… sorry.“ She jumped off the wall and fled, rushing off to God knows where, around the corner of the barn. It took Caroline a good minute until she recovered from her shock and when she did, her emotions broke out of her. She chucked her mug across the yard and broke it on the barn door. That bloody barn. She imagined Eddie watching, laughing at her.

“Fuck,“ she groaned and buried her face in her hands. She took a deep breath. “Well done Caroline, really fucking well done, you just had to go and ruin everything, didn’t you…“ She looked out into her valley, her vision blurring with tears. She was not prepared to give up this new found happiness. She would have to find a way of making things right with Gillian. How could she have made such a crude lapse in judgement? Slowly, she slid down the wall and started gathering the broken china of the mug.

——

“You alright mum?“ Raff asked, eyeing his mother across the dinner table. The rest of the family had returned in the afternoon as predicted. First Raff and Ellie with the kids, then Greg had brought round Flora. Now, the kids had gone to bed and the grown-ups were having their tea and discussing how the house hunting was going. At least that’s what Raff and Ellie were trying to do but neither Gillian nor Caroline seemed to really be listening.

“Hm? What?“ Gillian looked up from her plate, confused.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet,“ Raff observed, exchanging a glance with his wife,who gave him a shrug.

“Maybe I was just thinking how I’m missing the f-bloody peace and quiet from before you all piled back in 'ere,“ Gillian snarked, far harsher than she probably meant to. Fortunately, they were all used to Gillian’s moods by now so Raff just turned to Caroline:

“Caroline, what’s wrong with me mum?“ He asked, as if she wasn’t even there, in response to which Gillian just chucked her cutlery onto her plate like a stroppy teenager.

“What’s wrong with her? Nothing’s wrong with her. Maybe she’d be better if you weren’t pestering her,“ Caroline’s response was snarky as well, she wanted to be left alone to her own thoughts, as she presumed Gillian did. They hadn’t spoken for most of the day and sitting next to each other at dinner now was harder than she would have imagined.

“Not you too,“ Raff groaned.

“You had a fight or summat?“ Ellie asked, looking between the two women.

“What would we possibly fight about?“ Caroline shot back, twirling her pasta around her fork.

“Would you like a list?" Ellie chuckled and Caroline shot her a look that would have shut up anyone.

“Everything’s perfectly fine, eat your tea,“ the headteacher instructed and Raff was quick to appease:

“It’s lovely, this, Caroline.“

“Thanks love.“ She managed a thin smile as they all returned their attention to their plates.

“I’m not feeling too good, I’m gonna get an early night,“ Gillian announced and got to her feet abruptly. “Can you check in on sheep later, Raff?“

“Sure.“ He nodded quickly and the sheep farmer practically fled the table. There was a moment of tense silence with only Gillian’s footsteps, rushing up the stairs to her bedroom.

“You not gonna go after her?“ Ellie asked once they heard a door slam upstairs.

“Why would I?“ Caroline asked, bewildered at the very suggestion.

“If something’s happened, you’re better off clearing it up sooner rather than later,“ Raff agreed with his wife.

“She doesn’t want me talking to her,“ Caroline huffed, moving her pasta around the plate that she - despite going through some pain to make it - didn’t fancy at all.

“So something did happen!“ Raff exclaimed as if her statement was proof to that effect. “What’s she done? Did one of sheep get into the house again?“

“Nothing happened!“ Caroline shook her head. She wanted to laugh at how he naturally presumed it had been Gillian that was at fault. Nothing could be further from the truth but she couldn’t tell them what had happened. It would only make things worse. The best course of action would be to ignore it had ever happened. “Just give her some space,“ she advised, which was exactly what she planned on doing herself. With any luck, things wouldn’t be as tense tomorrow and they could forget about the whole thing.

——

Caroline was engrossed in a book when Gillian reappeared. Raff and Ellie were watching telly, while Caroline had retreated to the other sofa. For a moment, Gillian lingered at the top of the stairs, probably wondering if she dared be among them again, but as it turned out she had no intention of that anyway. She crossed the living room without a word and headed for the front door.

“Thought she said she were getting an early night…“ Ellie commented when the front door slammed shut.

“Caroline…“ Raff looked over to the headteacher. “If you won’t tell us what happened, can you at least…“ His voice was almost pleading and Caroline couldn’t refuse, not when she knew this was her fault. Perhaps talking it through would help…

“Alright…“ She closed her book, threw the blanket aside and got to her feet.

Caroline wrapped herself up warm and stepped out of the farm house. The night was clear as the day had been and yet, she couldn’t see Gillian anywhere, she seemed to have made good use of her head start. She pulled her coat tighter around herself and made her way down the path. The Landrover was still there so she couldn’t have gone far.

That’s when she heard her, her muffled voice and she spotted the flickering light of a torch in the barn. Reluctantly, self-consciously, Caroline stepped closer.

“I bet you’re fucking loving this, aren’t you.“ It was definitely Gillian’s voice, louder and more pronounced now and Caroline stopped by the door of the barn. It wasn’t entirely shut but it wasn’t open and inviting either. “I could be so happy if it wasn’t for everything you’ve done to me.“ Gillian’s voice was distraught, worked up and angry. Caroline knew who she was talking to. Part of Gillian still believed that Eddie was still, somehow, present in that barn where he had died. And it seemed like she was shouting at him now. “I could be whole and together and worth a bloody damn. You satisfied?“ She was yelling from inside and Caroline couldn’t bring herself to walk in. She didn’t want to intrude, it wouldn’t be fair. She really ought to head back inside, allow Gillian this moment of privacy to work through her feelings. “Even after all this time, I still can’t f-bloody get anything right!“ Her words didn’t quite make sense to Caroline, but she got the gist. “I deserve to be happy, I do! Even after what I did, I deserve to move on. You put me through hell and I came out the other side and I deserve something good to happen and I thought it had and now it’s all fucked up again!“ Caroline’s heart sank when Gillian’s voice broke with sobs. “So congrats, you’ve fucking done it again.“

Caroline didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t go in, it was too much, too personal. She felt guilty for even listening in, but the sound of Gillian crying broke her heart. She realised she had messed up big. Gillian had been happy and she had forced her out of her comfort zone to where she didn’t want to go. Of course she would blame Eddie for it, like she did with most things in her life when they went wrong. Like she had blamed the accidents that had happened to Robbie on him too… Caroline knew it was her fault this time though, Eddie was well and truly gone. The only hold he had in this world was the one he still had on Gillian and Caroline cursed him for it. She wished she could just be free of him. She wanted nothing more than for Gillian to be happy, she knew she had to find a way to make things right with her. Ignoring each other as they had done for the most part of the day, just wasn’t an option. She wanted to be content and happy like they had been the past month, she had to find a way of restoring that balance and reassure Gillian she had no expectations of her. She stepped away from the barn, heading back to the house, but it was too late.

“What’re you doing out 'ere?“ Gillian exclaimed and Caroline looked around.

“Just uh… Raff asked me to come look after you…“ she answered slowly, shifting uncomfortably. She should have left sooner.

“Raff can fuck off,“ Gillian huffed, locking the barn door behind her.

“He’s concerned about you, I am too…“ Caroline said slowly as she realised they were heading into a stand off. Gillian kept her distance, crossing her arms as well and staring her down with an uneasy air about her.

“Were you listening?“ Gillian’s voice swung between accusatory, distressed and insecure.

“No, I…“ Caroline broke off because the lie would be so incredibly hard to maintain. How was she supposed to pretend she didn’t know how distressed she was?

“Cause it’s none of your f-flipping business,“ Gillian snapped in an angry outburst that made Caroline flinch and feel all the more guilty.

“I know that…“ she said softly. “I just… are you okay?“ The bright moonlight illuminated the sheep farmer’s face just enough to reveal her damp cheeks and puffy eyes. Gillian must have noticed her staring because the response was quick and harsh:

“Do I fucking look okay to you?“

“No, that’s why…“ Caroline winced, struggling for the right thing to say. It was a minefield, one that she had set up for herself. No matter which way she turned, compassion, remorse, admitting to listening, pretending she didn’t know why she was upset, apologising for a mistake or admitting to the depth of her emotions and motivations… with Gillian every course of action could blow up in her face and make things even worse than they already were.

“Leave me alone, Caroline.“ Gillian seemed to think it best not to give her an opportunity at all. She strutted past her, back towards the farm house.

“Gillian…“ Caroline couldn’t let her go, she had to try something, anything, so she reached out, grabbed her arm to hold her back. Gillian’s reaction was more violent than she could have anticipated.

“Get your hands off me!“ The sheep farmer yelled and ripped her arm away, cradling it against her like she had been burnt, she stared at Caroline with a turmoil of emotions in her expressive eyes. Caroline’s heart sank, she crossed her arms again.

“I’m not gonna do anything, I got the message loud and clear…“ Caroline mumbled, self-consciously.

“Yeah, well- You better not,“ Gillian’s sharp reply drove the matter home and Caroline didn’t look up, not until the sheep farmer had disappeared inside the farm house.

The headteacher turned away and looked out into the valley. She felt numb.

[slightlymore]

Rumours | Part 1

Thank you love!! I hope you like this

Part 2 Rumours were that Johnny Suh was very good in bed. Those whispers travelled all around the university campus caressing the ears of every student, standing in pairs while covering their mouths, eyes wide and curved lips, drinking in the juiciest gossip of that year.  

“I’ve heard he can make you cum all night and you have to beg him to stop”. “Greg never manages to make me moan as he’s already shaking by himself”. “God, Fiona, dump his ass already, he’s not even that great”. “The guys said that his penis is the biggest one on campus” “I would sell my soul for him to touch me with one single finger” “I’ve heard that he is able to fuck all night” “His pussy eating technique is impeccable” And many more. You’ve heard all the rumours possible and sometimes you inserted yourself in those groups of people on purpose, just to feel up to date. Johnny here, Johnny there, all of this information, but no real witnesses. You were amused at the whole situation and wondered what the truth really was.  How come everyone swore about this information but no one actually slept with Johnny before? Where did all of this come from in the first place? The thing is, Johnny never addressed any rumours about his out of world cock or god-tier skills and no one explicitly asked him if it was true or not. He would only laugh as someone complimented him or gave him knowing looks. It was just like that. Canon. But you wanted to see for yourself. You had to know the truth. You were waiting for the right moment to go and ask. Deadass.  And thanks to the universe, the opportunity came when you least expected it. When the professor told you that for the new semester you’ll have to work in pairs everyone groaned and rolled their eyes. There was not a single soul happy to work in teams. Yet, weird energy lingered around the classroom as the professor was about to share your partners. Because Johnny was there as well. The silence was total as if everyone kept their breath in while on the edge of their seat. Was it because Johnny was mysterious and no one could talk to him? Was that the only chance to have him around? No. You could go and talk to him and he would raise his honey eyes at you and smile widely. It was because everyone was shy out of their own mind and they didn’t want to admit that they dreamed about fucking Johnny every night while humping their pillows. This situation was ideal because it was inevitable. “I’m not hanging out with him because I want to get into his pants” people would comment. “Pfft, I’m not that type of person. We’re just working on a project together” they would explain. Even though everyone knew. Everyone knew that Johnny Suh was the most desired man in the whole university. “Fuck, I hope he’s bi” you heard a low whisper behind you as you were all waiting for his name to pop up.  You kept in a chuckle. You couldn’t lie and say that you weren’t curious to talk to him as well. You wanted to know. The funny thing to you was the fact that people took for granted that they would get laid in the first place. You weren’t that conceited. You didn’t want his dick. You just wanted to know the truth. 

“Johnny and Y/N,” the professor said with a monotone voice, unaware of what he has just announced. You felt your eyes widen at your luck and didn’t even feel the multiple light slaps you received from people around you, as congratulations, or, who knows, maybe envy. Johnny looked around as to search for you. He didn’t know who you were, obviously. When he linked eyes with yours you raised your hand a little as if greeting him. Hey, yes, YN is me, haha. God, you’ve never felt so awkward in your whole life. He smiled at you though and imitated your gesture before turning his back again. 

“What’s your favourite prompt?” a voice asked while the chatter of people leaving the room intensified. You ignored it, sure it wasn’t directed to you, but then the voice said your name. “Huh?” you raised your head, the pencil case in mid-air as you were packing your bag. “For the project” Johnny explained after letting out an airy chuckle. “Did you look at the list already?” he asked. He was standing on the stairs, at the side of the room, hands tucked inside his pants’ pockets, polite smile on his lips, bag wrapping his chest. “Oh-” you babbled not expecting him to approach you that way and you grabbed the paper. You could swear that it wasn’t written in a language you were able to read. “Uhm-” you hummed again. “I have no idea. Do you have something in mind?” you asked instead. There was no reason for you to feel this nervous. You didn’t want to sleep with him. You just wanted to know the truth. Calm the fuck down, Y/N.  He went silent as if he indeed had something pop up in his mind then he looked down at you again. “Let’s have lunch together if you don’t have other plans” he suggested. 

Your hands were tightly wrapped around the backpack straps as you were walking towards the corner of the campus Johnny choose as his lunch spot. “I like to eat outside” he explained seeing your confused face when you walked out of the main building. “It’s fine. It’s a nice day” you reassured him. Even if your heart has never beaten that fast before. Having to eat with him in the hall as everyone was staring would have been terrible. Eating with him alone where no one could see you? A dream come true but terrible as well. You weren’t ready to sleep with Johnny Suh. Who were you kidding? What were you thinking? Pairing you both wasn’t a blessing. It was a curse. You were already regretting it. You would be such a disappointment. You could count the number of dicks you’ve sucked before on one hand and you didn’t even need all 5 fingers to do so. Deep in your thoughts you almost missed Johnny as he indicated with his chin the place, saying that you’ve arrived. It was a nice spot, high up on top of a little knoll that accommodated a big tree as well. You sat in the shade on the soft green grass and looked down at the campus. “Quite nice, isn’t it?” Johnny asked. His hair was being caressed gently by the breeze and the little rays of sun poking through the leafage made it shine brightly as if it was gold. Then he looked at you. There it is, you thought. Here it comes. That’s it. You gulped down and tried hard to stop yourself from ripping the grass around you. What were you about to do before? What were your intentions with Johnny? Talk? You had no idea and you didn’t care as his scent inebriated you.  He leaned in slowly. You let your eyelids close a little as he was approaching. Your pulse was throbbing inside your ears and your palms got suddenly sweaty. “So, I was thinking, number 6? Or we can read all of them one by one and decide” he spoke after a while as he finally reached his bag near you. He unzipped it and took out a beautiful bento box that he put on his knees. You gasped for air, trying hard to not get noticed and silently cursed at yourself. Okay, rewind. You really thought that Johnny Suh would kiss you after knowing you for 5 minutes?  Of course, he wouldn't ask you to suck his dick. On campus! In the middle of the day! God, you were so embarrassed. You tried hard to escape all the prejudices around him and there you were, panties wet just like every other person.  Talking! Just talking. That was your mission. Focus.  “Does it bother you?” you asked on a whim after a while. Having decided that number 6 was indeed the best choice, you finally started to eat. He let you taste his food and you excused yourself for not offering your sandwich as well but it was quite terrible and he wouldn’t want to experience that. “What?” he asked even if the little line around his mouth told you that he knew what you were talking about. “The rumours” you answered with a little voice. You were so eager to know the truth about it. Like it was a mystery, not the life of a real person. But now, in front of him, you realized how stupid your intent was and that it wasn’t your business. He didn’t answer for a while and just put the lid back on his bento box. Then he smiled. “Believe it or not, you’re the first person to ask me that”. “Sorry, I know I shouldn’t ask since we barely know each other-” you started to excuse yourself, afraid to come off as rude. You really wanted to abort the mission and run away.  “No, it’s fine” he assured you. “I actually appreciate it a lot” he added. You swallowed the last piece of sandwich you had and just stupidly looked at him. “It does bother me a little” he answered your question. “Because it makes me just that” he added. You nodded seriously. “A sex god”. He went silent for a split second then laughed as if not expecting such wording.   “Yes, I guess you can say it that way” he spoke again when he was able to breathe again. You smiled timidly as well, noticing his slightly red cheeks. Okay, so maybe he wouldn’t hate you if you asked. Maybe it was fine. Maybe you could finally get the answer to that big mystery.  “So…” you started, feeling more confident already. “If it’s true or not?” he surpassed you. You hummed, unable to stop your heart from racing. So close. You were about to know.  A little leaf danced on top of your head, swirling until reaching your face and hitting your nose. You closed your eyes and chuckled surprised.  The leaf then fell on your lap as you touched your face. Johnny’s hand appeared in your peripheral vision. His fingers brushed against your thigh with the intent to retrieve the leaf, but for some reason, they kept on casually lingering there. You turned your head and looked at him but the sun was right behind his head and you couldn’t quite see his expression when he spoke again. “I think you need to discover the answer to that by yourself” he whispered. You continued to stare at him as if under a spell and you thought of nothing besides the way his body got up and slowly descended the hill. When he turned his head to you while waving, you could swear that he winked at you.

[litwitlady]

2x13 Interlude

Takes place immediately after they find Tripp’s body beneath the tool shed and Michael ostensibly moves yet another body. This is very heavy Alex angst - please be warned. Warnings also for anxiety and panic attacks, abuse and violence. The end is slightly fluffy, I promise. But it takes a minute to get there. I wrote this mostly for myself, but thought I’d share anyway.

After Michael leaves, Alex slips back into the house and heads directly to his old bedroom. The one he shared with Flint for so many long, miserable years. The door is ajar, and he nudges it fully open. He sucks in a breath as he looks around and notices that next to no memories from his childhood remain. The walls have been repainted; all his stuff removed – likely thrown out with some random week’s trash. In the corner by the window, a single desk and chair remain. Both flea market finds he and Greg had hauled home one Christmas. Alex walks towards the small desk and opens the top right drawer wondering if it’s possible his old eyeliner had somehow managed to escape his father’s purge. But no – just a bare, wood drawer. Only the memory lingers.

Alex sits in the middle of the floor and notices one of his knuckles is bleeding. He sucks on the injury and lets the coppery taste of iron sit on his tongue. He thinks about how much blood the past has taken from him, from Michael, from Tripp. That tool shed built by an evil man and maintained by another evil man. Both men a part of him. Connected through the very same blood he spent so many years shedding at his father’s hands. The overwhelming shame of his legacy still clasps at his heart, threatening to never let go no matter how many tool sheds he destroys. Tears crawl down his face, burning his skin along the way.

He reaches inside his shirt and grips Tripp’s dog tags that are quickly becoming the lifeline he never knew he needed. Not every part of himself is inherently evil. God, how much he wants to have faith in that belief. He lays back, staring at the ceiling trying desperately to believe Tripp is just as much - if not more so - a part of him than Harlan, than Jesse. Alex knows he’s done evil things – in deserts halfway across the world. To people – men, women, children – that he’d never even met. How many times he’s lain awake staring at similar blank ceilings reliving those memories and trying to convince himself what he did was for survival, for love of country. But ultimately being left with the hollow truth that none of the people he’s killed had to die in order for him to live. A truth locked deep inside his heart, but not so deep that he can ever forget. No. He’ll have to live with that truth for the rest of his life.

His thoughts wonder back to Michael, replaying the way he’d swung that axe so gleefully. Alex could almost see the weight falling off his shoulders. Closing his eyes, he tries to write that memory onto his heart. That’s how he wants to remember tonight. As a healing for Michael – the boy, the man – he’s loved for the past 11 years. And it doesn’t matter if Michael never loves him again because he’ll have this memory to keep him warm now. Maybe it will never replace the horror of what Jesse did all those years ago. But it’s enough for now. Like a cozy blanket he’ll pull out when those terrible images reappear. He’ll wrap himself tight in this memory of a sweaty, smiling Michael Guerin wildly swinging an axe and destroying the thing that has haunted his hand, his memories, his heart for over a decade.

Several long minutes pass as Alex lays there running his fingers over Tripp’s engraved name again and again. He wants to call Michael. Ask him to come back. To lie there with him for the rest of the night. Maybe the rest of forever. But he can’t because Michael is no longer his. The ache in his heart pulls more tears from his eyes as he curls up on his side. He knows he needs to go home. Take off the prosthetic. Do his PT. That he’ll regret this in the morning when the muscle spasms come for him. But there’s a small voice inside his head whispering that maybe he deserves that pain. After all, he, too, is complicit in so many of the ways Michael Guerin has hurt over the years.

A soft knock on the door jars him from his emotional spiral. He turns to find Greg looking down at him clearly concerned. He sits up, dropping the dog tags back down his shirt to rest against his heart. Greg reaches out a hand to help him up. Alex gladly accepts but can’t quite meet his brother’s eye. ‘You alright?’ Alex sighs and nods. He can tell Greg doesn’t believe him and well, who would?

‘Guerin go home? You guys did some real damage back there.’

Alex doesn’t say anything, just shifts all of his weight to his left leg and grimaces at the pain in his right hip. Greg grabs his elbow to help him balance. ‘Come sit down and talk to me, Alex.’

But Alex doesn’t want to talk. He wants to go home, crawl into bed, and spend the rest of the night chasing nightmares. Or maybe he’ll finally take one of his sleeping pills and erase the world for a little while. At least he has options.

Greg seems to understand. ‘Well, at least let me drive you home. No need to stress your leg any further.’

Alex finds the energy to speak and shakes his head. ‘It’s okay. I drive with my left leg, anyway. Plus, both my crutches are in the car. I’ll be fine. Just been a long day.’ Week. Year. Life. He swallows and tries to muster up something he hopes resembles a smile. Greg’s face lets him know he’s failed. ‘Listen, I’ll come back tomorrow. Help you eat all those disgusting casseroles. I’ll explain everything. I promise.’

Greg helps him out to his car. Once he’s inside with the door blissfully closed to anymore questions, Alex deflates, sagging back against the leather seat, and starts to cry again. He knows that there’s something incredibly broken deep down in the dark place he tries not to think about. The stress of the past week is finally catching up with him and he knows he needs help but can’t figure out how to ask for it. Instead, he starts the car and heads home, tears freefalling and chest heaving. He’s scared to look at the passenger seat, scared he’ll see his father sitting there. Smug and gloating that somehow even in death he’s still winning.

Alex focuses as best he can on the road directly in front of him and manages to make it home safely. When he turns into his driveway, he’s shocked to find Michael’s truck parked in his regular spot – tailgate down and waiting for him like so many nights ago. Alex’s chest clenches at the memory of Michael’s ‘I like Maria, okay’. He can feel panic rising and worries that he’s now in danger of a full-blown panic attack if this night doesn’t end quickly.

He shuts the SUV off but doesn’t move. Tension begins to coil in his chest, wrapping his lungs in a vice grip that he’s having a hard time breathing around. Michael must notice that something’s wrong because he hurriedly moves to open his door and unbuckle his seat belt. Alex barely registers any of this as he tries to focus on his breathing. He can distantly hear Michael calling his name, feel his hand wrap around his neck. And then there’s Michael’s hand on his chest and his hand on Michael’s chest. Alex can feel Michael’s heart beating solidly beneath his palm. Can feel the strong in and out motion of his breathing. He clings to that and tries to match him, breath for breath. It takes a moment, but eventually, the pressure in his head eases, sounds return to normal, and the weight on his chest finally subsides. He sucks in as much oxygen as he can in long, deep breaths.

Michael takes a step back giving him some space, not knowing what to do next. Alex hates the lines of worry written across his face. Hates that he’s the one who has put them there. But he’s also never needed someone as much as he needs Michael in this moment. He moves to get out of the car, but his right leg is no longer obeying him, and he can’t hide the groan that escapes him as he shifts towards the door. But Michael’s hands are there to catch him and ease him off the seat, taking the brunt of Alex’s weight onto his own shoulders.

‘My crutches are in the back.’ Michael helps Alex lean against the driver’s side door and then turns to grab the crutches from their perch on the backseat. He hands them to Alex and watches as he puts his arms through the grips, adjusts his stance until he’s as comfortable as he’s going to get. Alex closes the door behind him and notices that Michael has his keys. He presses the lock button on the key fob and follows Alex up to his front door in silence. Alex suspects Michael’s using his telekinesis to ease the walk. They turn to face each other, neither knowing what to say. All that comes to Alex is a simple thank you. He knows it’s not enough.

Michael thumbs away the tears that are somehow still falling down Alex’s cheeks and unlocks his front door. The alarm starts to beep when the door opens, and Alex gives Michael the code to disarm the system. He makes his way into his bedroom and collapses on his bed. Michael takes the crutches from him and places them next to his nightstand. He kneels at his feet and begins taking off Alex’s shoes. He glances up at Alex, asking for permission to remove the prosthetic next. Alex gives a small nod and watches how gently Michael tends to him, all soft tugs and gentle pulls. He’s too tired to care how intimate a situation this is between the two of them. Too tired to think about Maria or not being good enough. He just unbuttons his jeans and lets Michael pull them off him as he tosses his shirt to the floor.

He watches as Michael grabs the lotion from his bedside and begins to massage the tight muscles in his right thigh, from his knee to his hip. Alex relaxes back onto his pillow, closing his eyes and thinking that maybe the nightmares won’t find him after all. His thoughts drift as Michael’s fingers continue to work their magic, shifting to his left leg knowing how much extra work it’s put in today as well.

What feels like a just a moment later, Alex jerks awake suddenly not realizing he’d fallen asleep. Michael is curled up next to him, snoring softly. He considers waking him and telling him to go home or to Maria or wherever he belongs now. But he can’t bring himself to give up the alien warmth and the way his body fits so perfectly next to his own. It’s selfish and he knows it. But he doesn’t care. Alex settles back against Michael and pulls his arms tightly around him. Michael’s left hand comes to rest on his chest and Alex realizes that the bandana is gone. And for the first time, Alex thinks he feels something inside him start to heal.

[childoftheriver]

Mmmm

[larryssunflower]

The Non-Royal Romance, season two, part one

last part of season 1    teaser trailer   masterlist

(really bad) summary: TRR AU where MC (Alana Rhys) is the now queen of Cordonia, and Liam was part of the suitors in line to marry her. Drake Walker is Alana’s personal bodyguard, and as the season goes on, their feelings for each other only get stronger. After an assassination attempt during the coronation ball, Alana’s mother announces without her consent that she will marry Liam, to both Drake and Alana’s dismay. This season is dedicated to Alana’s and Liams engagement tour, and what will happen as it goes on

pairing: Drake Walker x MC x Liam (kinda)

tagging-  @ravenpuff02 @simplyaiden-blog @msjr0119 @butindeed @mfackenthal @axwalker @choices-lurker @american-duchess @drakelover78 @monosodiumglutamateme @crookedslimecreatorpasta @mrsdrakewalkerblog @traeumerinwitzhelden @gardeningourmet @speedyoperarascalparty @agent-zephyrkah @liam-rhys-x-mc-x-constantine @snyggflicka @texaskitten30 @annekebbphotography @irishwhiskys-blog @nomadics-stuff @catlady0911 @twinkle-320 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @drakewalker04 @bigmemesplz @jovialyouthmusic @sleepwalkingelite @pintobomb @moneyfordiamonds​ @mskaneko​ @lauzales​ @princessleac1​ @kingliam2019​ 

----

*six months after the coronation ball*

These past few months have been difficult, I’m not going to lie. I’ve spent the majority of my time living in the Beaumont manor, recovering my shoulder and having well deserved space from my mother. Luckily the interactions I have had with Liam have been brief, I can’t bring myself to act like I’m in love with him because he thinks I actually chose him and I don’t have the balls to tell him he wasn’t my choice. No one knows that it was my mother’s decision and I’m in love with my former bodyguard. The perfect Queen huh?

I haven’t seen Drake since the incident. It was so perfect for that short span of time where he loved me back and we were finally together. But that changed... thanks to my mother. My memory is still hazy due to the pain medication and all I remember is the incident on tv, falling asleep at one point with Drake by my side, and waking up and he was gone. My mom said he just up and left. 

I don’t blame him if I’m being honest. Who would want to be with this train wreck? I sigh, running my hands through my dirty hair. I know it’s pathetic, but I haven’t really been taking care of myself recently. I started getting night terrors, every time I’m in that ballroom, my friends and family being slaughtered around me, time and time again and I can’t do anything to help them. Maxwell always wakes me up with a hug, holding me as I sob in his arms.

We still haven’t found who orchestrated the assassination attempt. It’s not easy when your country is relatively peaceful with very few enemies.

I trace my fingers over my scar on my shoulder. My doctor said it could take up to a year to function normally again. Thank god it’s not fatal, but the psychological toll hasn’t been easy. I can’t help this horrible feeling of guilt every time I think about the ball. They were there to kill me, and harmed my friends to get there. Who knows what else they will do to get to me or my friends the second time?

I let out a breath shakily, looking out the window. Theres no point thinking like that. That’s all I have been doing, stressing over things I can’t control. 

All I know is that the engagement tour is starting tonight, and I have to speak to people again. I have to spend time with Liam, try to pretend to be in love, try to pretend that I’m not falling apart. I have to do this without Drake by my side. A horrible feeling pangs in my stomach anytime I think about him. I lost the one person I have ever felt this way about and maybe its a good thing. It wasn’t fair to him, our whole relationship- if you could call it that. 

I eventually drag myself into a well-needed shower, letting the hot water melt away the tension in my back. I don’t have a choice anymore, all I can do is try to do my best tonight. That’s all I can do.

—-

I wake up, and immediately look to my left. Drake isn’t there. I frown, sitting up in my uncomfortable hospital bed, ignoring the pain in my shoulder and looking around. “Drake?” I ask, hoping he’s just in the other room. The door opens and my mom walks in, looking somber. A wave of anger flows over my body as I remember what she did. “Where is he.” I demand, my chest tight. She looks at me for a moment, not saying anything. “Where. is. he.” I demand harshly, making her sigh as I stare at her, my heart pounding.

“I didn’t want to tell you this way, but he’s gone.” My mother says much too simply, her everlasting sense of disapproval emulating from her gaze. Tears spring to my eyes as I digest what she said. “G-Gone?” I ask, swallowing thickly. My mother nods, walking over and sitting delicately on my bed. “Once you had fallen asleep, He left the room. I tried to ask him where he was going but he just said ‘I can’t do it anymore’ and walked away without a second glance.” She explains, making my heart break. Tears pool and spill onto my cheeks. I look down at my blurry hands which have began shaking.

“I’m so sorry honey,” My mother says, trying to hold my hand. I yank it away from her, fuming. “Don’t touch me.” I grit through my teeth, my conflicting feelings of anger, abandonment, loss, and love waging a war inside of me. “I can’t believe you! how could you do this to my life? Leave! please,” I beg, my voice shaking embarrassingly. My mother closes her mouth, pressing her lips together. “So be it.” She says, monotone. She gets up, and walks out the door.

I fall back against my pillow, tears pouring out of my eyes.

He’s gone.

—-

I brush my now soft, clean hair, and watch as it falls gently on my shoulders. My baby pink dress is form fitting, the straps thick enough to hide the scar on my shoulder. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Not sure if that’s really true, because I haven’t seen Drake in six months but... he is not out of my mind. It hurts more knowing that he probably doesn’t even care about me, especially since he walked out when it got rough and has probably moved on when all i do is think about him.

I watch my door open in the reflection of my mirror, my mother walking in. “You clean up well hon,” My mother says, her hopeful smile on that face. She has been trying really hard to make it up to me. “Thanks,” I say quietly, looking down at my clasped hands, my heavy, expensive ring on my left hand. The ornate gold ring pairs with a large crystal clear diamond, surrounded by smaller diamonds in a teardrop shape. Its beautiful, but feels foreign. Liam brought it to me in the hospital a couple weeks after Drake left. My mother was watching carefully as I smiled and accepted the ring, giving Liam a kiss in thanks. The next day, a picture of me in my hospital bed and Liam presenting his ring to me was all over the gossip news and magazines. My mother pretended to be outraged but I knew she set it up. She’s a smart diplomat, I’ll give her that. She always knows what she’s doing.

“Tonight’s the big night! Your first event as Queen!” My mother says enthusiastically, and I nod absentmindedly, fiddling with the ring. I haven’t worn it since the day in the hospital, and it’s just been sitting on my bedside table, collecting dust and eating away at my stomach. My mother sighs. “Why can’t you be happy? Will you ever forgive me?” She asks, and I look up at her in the mirror, my expression unchanged. “I’ve told you many times how you could earn my forgiveness and respect back.” I say, referencing a past conversation we had, keeping my voice flat and even. My mother purses her lips. “Well then. I’ll see you tonight at the party. Stay presentable,” My mother orders, before swiftly turning away, stalking out the door. I scoff, shaking my head.

—-

(Drake’s p.o.v)

I clench my jaw, punching the bag in front of me repeatedly. All my anger, regret, and frustration pouring out as I beat the punching bag, making it shake violently back and forth, it’s chain groaning.

I eventually stop, breathing heavily. I sigh, wiping the sheen of sweat off my forehead. All I can think about is her. As pathetic as that is. “You okay man?” the gym manager, Greg, asks. I nod, without looking up. “Yeah thanks, I’m fine,” I breathe, sitting down on the bench behind me, looking down as I unwrap my knuckles.

For a brief moment I’m back in that room, watching as she treats my fresh wounds, the light from the windows softly framing her beautiful face, whiskey flowing through my veins because that was the only way I could attempt to calm my nerves, being so close to her. I sigh, trying to push her from my mind.

She doesn’t want you anymore. 

“Hey uh, someone’s here to see you,” Greg says, his tone shifted. I look up in confusion and see Alana’s mother standing behind him, clearly uncomfortable in the dingy gym. I stand up quickly, suddenly feeing self conscious about my sweaty gym clothes.

Greg senses the tension and tentatively walks away, giving us a strange look. I guess it’s not every day that one of his patrons is visited by the recently former Queen. I look back at Regina, anger building back up within me. “How can I help you, Your Majesty?” I ask turning my head to the side, my nose flaring angrily. She blinks. “I deserve that,” she admits, looking down at the dingy floor. “I came here with a proposition for you,” She says, looking back up at me, making me furrow my brow in confusion.

—-

(Alana’s p.o.v)

“You got this Al, I know you do.” Maxwell reassures me, his eyes kind. I smile, “Thanks Max,” I say, taking a deep breath. “I know you’ve had a tough couple months, but you may as well try to have a good time tonight,” Maxwell says, and I nod. We start to walk out of my room and down the hall, Maxwell’s arm slung around my shoulders. “We can get drunk just like old times,” Maxwell laughs in my ear, making me laugh. “Oh those were the days,” I sigh contently, my good friend making me smile.

We laugh as we make our way to the main entryway, separating as we walk down the stairs. I look up at the sound of the front doors opening and stop in my tracks. In walks in my mother and...Drake?

A wall of emotion hits me so hard, I feel as though I could fall over. The man I love, the man I swear to at night, the man who broke my heart, standing just a few feet away from me, in a frustratingly handsome navy suit, avoiding my eye contact.

“I got your bodyguard back, now, let’s leave before we are late to your engagement party,” My mother says, a satisfied smile on her face. I snap back to reality, nodding wordlessly. I walk down the stairs, not being able to look Drake in the eyes. As I pass him through the doorway, I feel his hand on my lower back, guiding me through. Chills spread over my arms and I keep walking, my face burning in embarrassment. I feel like a spoiled child whose parent forced some child to be my friend. I can’t believe she remembered.

Five months ago my mother asked how she could earn my forgiveness, and I simply said ‘bring him back’.

I step into the back of our black SUV, Maxwell following behind me. My mother gets into her own car with her bodyguard, and Drake sits up front with the driver. I can feel Max’s gaze on mine, but I don’t look at him, my stomach fluttering unpleasantly. I’m not eager to see the expression of my good friend’s face. I’m torn between being overjoyed that the man I love is so close to me again, and angry because that same man broke my heart six months ago. How can he just sit there, no emotion, after what he did? How much is my mother paying him? I cringe, looking out the window, waiting until we arrive.

—-

Our cars pull up onto the gravel drive, the Amaranth Manor glittering in the warm night. Home to one of the Cordonia most notable noble family, their daughter being Madeline. I only met on her on a couple of occasions- she’s... not my taste. 

The cars roll to a stop just in front of the large doors, my nerves fluttering. I haven’t been in public like this in so long. My car door opens, and for the fist time in six months, I make direct eye contact with Drake. Just like that, all my reservations and cautiousness is out the window, replaced with the familiar feeling of overwhelming love and longing for Drake. A feeling I’ve tried to ignore for these past months that I just can’t hold it back anymore.

I get lost in those warm, brown, beautiful eyes, butterflies erupting in my stomach. I force myself to look away, gulping nervously. I take a deep breath, take his hand, and step down off the SUV. The manor is lit up with warm lights, music playing loudly through the french doors which are open wide for the warm summer air. I look over and see two men waiting for me one of whom is Liam, the other, I don’t recognize. Liam grins, walking over and enveloping me in an embrace. I smile, hugging him back. He kisses my cheek as he pulls away, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight. “So nice to see you again babe,” He says, and I grin. “Yes it is,” I smile. Liam turns, gesturing for the other man to walk over.

“This is my brother, Leo. He’s joining us on our tour,” Liam explains. “Ah, so nice to meet you!” I exclaim, holding out my hand. Leo takes it, placing a kiss on my knuckles. “It’s my pleasure Your Majesty,” Leo says in a smooth voice. I smile politely, and we head over to the entrance. I glance over my shoulder, spotting Maxwell throwing his arm over Liam, talking pleasantly with his friend, and Drake, following behind.

We enter the main ballroom, where many of the suitors form last season are, now with women of nobility. I feel slightly intimidated as we walk in, and they go nearly quiet. We are announced and the voices start up again, louder this time. Liam and I start getting bombarded by nobles, ready to congratulate us on our engagement. We maneuver through the party, my jeweled hand resting on Liam’s arm, in clear view. Drake trails behind us, but I try not to think or look at him, not sure how I will react. I get many compliments on my ring from noble women, many of whom will be my bridesmaids, even though I barely know any of them.

Hours into the party and a couple noble women stand out, like the extremely nice woman Hana Lee, the bubbly Penelope Ebrim, the cultured french woman Kiara Theron, and of course, Madeline. “Step-Cousin! So nice to see you,” Madeline says in a hard-to-tell but definitely fake smile. “Lovely to see you as well! Thank you for hosting,” I smile back. She studies me for a moment, before turning to Liam. “Liam. It’s been a while, you look well,” Madeline says, a slight blush forming on her cheeks. “You too Madeline,” Liam grins. She looks at him for a moment, before turning to me.

“Looking forward to the wedding? I bet it will be just lovely,” Madeline says, an edge to her voice. What is her problem? “Yeah definitely! Um- would you two excuse me for a moment? I think I just need some fresh air,” I say, and they both nod. “Are you okay?” Liam asks quietly, his hand on my forearm. I nod with a smile, gently releasing myself from his grip. “Yes! I’ll be right back,” I say cheerfully, kissing his cheek quickly, before turning and making my way through the ballroom and out one of the open doors, into the secluded garden. I walk for a bit in the quiet, until I’m far enough to be out of sight from the party, and sit down on a stone bench outside. I sigh, a feeling of relief washing over me, happy to finally be alone again.

I honestly forgot the stress of being a noble - and now I’m Queen. god, what have I gotten myself into?

I suddenly hear a branch break, and whip my head to see Drake, standing just a bit away from me. I sigh. “Why did you follow me?” I ask, feeling an overwhelming sense of exhaustion from the situation. He sighs. “I’m just trying to do my job.” Drake says, shifting uncomfortably. I nod slightly, looking down.

After a moment, Drake talks again, “I don’t know why you wanted me back as your bodyguard, you seemed like you were done with us.” He says quietly. I scoff, standing up indignantly, facing him. “Excuse me? I was the one who was done? Last time I checked, you were the one who walked out,” I say angrily, glad I walked far enough from the crowded party to have privacy.

Drake looks at me, clear confusion in his face. “You didn’t want me with you. Your mother made me leave when- when it happened. After you fell asleep she told me that you were done with us, that you couldn’t take it anymore. You forced me out of your life, I didn’t walk out.” Drake explains, his annoyingly calm voice just making me more confused.

“But my mom told me...” I stop, my heart pounding. I look up at Drake, who is staring back at me, his eyes wide. It starts to click. Why did I just trust what my mom said after what she did? His Adam’s apple bobs up and back down. “You didn’t want me to leave did you?” He asks quietly. I shake my head. “You didn’t give up on me?” I ask, gulping. He nears me. “No. never. You have no idea how much I fought. I was at the hospital every day, trying to find a way to see you, to change your mind. Eventually they threatened me with arrest. The next day, you were moved to another hospital. I kept trying, I didn’t stop, as much as I probably should have. You have no idea how many stupid gossip magazines I bought just to get any information about you, to see if you were okay,” Drake says with a chuckle, making me snort at the picture of Drake buying gossip magazines, my stomach fluttering with happiness. He didn’t give up on us.

We look at each other for a moment, just staring. “I missed you,” I say softly, my voice cracking. Something breaks within Drake and he pulls me towards him, embracing me tightly. I sigh, melting into his familiar arms, clinging onto his shoulders. He buries his face into my neck, making me sigh with content. Something I haven’t felt for months. I curl my fingers in his hair, pulling gently. After a moment, he pulls away from the embrace, his eyes scanning my face.

In a second, our lips are connected. It’s hesitant at first, still unsure, our mutual feelings of hurt still lingering between us. I let out a small moan, the feeling of his lips on mine intoxicating after months of feeling nothing. I clearly did something right, because Drake groans, pulling me closer than imagined, his hands roaming up and down my sides. All these months of to re-living our kisses in the middle of the night could not have prepared me for how I feel in this moment. My heart soaring, my nerves on fire, wanting- no begging- for more contact. 

Once my lungs are burning for air, we break apart, breathing heavily. “God, I missed you too,” Drake says, his voice an octave lower than usual, making my heart swoop into my stomach. God, how does he have such an impact on me? Just his deep voice makes me want to jump his bones. I gulp, looking up at him. “What now?” I ask, and he looks down. “Honestly? I’m not sure,” He says quietly.

I bring my hand up, caressing his cheek, making him look up at me. He blinks, looking deeply into my eyes. “All I know is that I can’t lose you again. I’m not sure how I’m going to deal with this engagement situation, but I will never give up on us.” I say with every fiber in my being, hoping he understands my sincerity. He nods, a strange look in his eyes. Before I can question him, my phone goes off. I look down to see a text from Liam, asking me where I am.

I sigh, a feeling of guilt creeping up on me. Just because I don’t want to be with Liam doesn’t mean I want to hurt him. “What is it?” Drake asks, and I sigh. “I have to get back in there, as much as I wish I could stay out here with you,” I say, longing to stay forever with Drake, never having to leave his side again. His face falls slightly, before he smiles. “Hey, at least we figured this out. It was hard thinking that you didn’t want me for six months,” Drake says, making me smile. “Yeah, I’m glad we figured this out,” I say, and He looks at me for a moment, before swooping in, giving me a sweet kiss. I happily kiss back, before we both pull away.

“Time to go back in I guess,” I say, and He nods. We walk through the garden, back into the crowded party, my stomach still fluttering with butterflies after that kiss. Drake stays a good distance behind me, which is probably smart because if I could, I would never stop trying to touch or kiss him, which would be a bit concerning for the nobles, as they are at the engagement party for me and a different man. Leo, Liam’s brother pulls me aside gently. “Oh hi Leo,” I say, and he looks at me for a moment. “Did you enjoy your breath of fresh air?” He asks, making my stomach drop. He didn’t see did he? “Yeah, sometimes parties like this are suffocating and I just need a break,” I say, keeping my voice level.

Leo studies me for a mother moment, a sly smirk creeping onto his face. “hmm, I like you,” He says in a thoughtful way as I smile back, my heart pounding. Did he see me and Drake? “Thank you, I’m glad my future brother in law approves,” I say with a slightly nervous chuckle. I can’t figure Leo out, is he threatening me?

 “Hey what’s up babe?” Liam asks, coming over to us, sliding a hand around my waist. I glance over to see Drake staring daggers at Liam’s hand. Funny how things never change. It makes me blush knowing Drake is protective over me. “Oh, nothing, just talking to your lovely brother,” I smile, clearly making Liam happy. “I’m glad! You two are very important to me,” He says, and we start a perfectly pleasant conversation.

The night moves on, we dance for a while, eat some appetizers, drink some champagne and before I know it, the party is over. I say goodbye to Liam, making my way to my assigned room away from him, which may have been orchestrated by my step-cousin, little does she know that’s my ideal scenario. Honestly she can try to steal Liam away, I’m not going to stop her.

Drake and I stop outside my door. “I guess I should try to get some sleep,” I say, and he nods. My tongue darts out to wet my lips nervously. “Do you want to come in?” I ask, my stomach bubbling with nerves. Drake looks down at me, a heat in his eyes. “I really shouldn’t Alana,” He says, and I nod. I bite my lip, thinking about how out-of-hand we could get. Probably not the best idea. “Okay then, goodnight,” I say, giving him a quick hug. He hugs back, kissing my cheek lightly, making my face heat up. He makes me feel like a schoolgirl, blushing over my crush kissing my cheek. So stupid. “Goodnight Your Highness,” he whispers, making me take in a sharp breath. He is really making this hard for me.

He releases me from the hug, leaning back, a satisfied grin on his face. I huff. “G-Goodnight,” I say, turning and going into my room, the stupid blush never leaving my face.

I change out of my dress and into pajamas and flop onto my bed, thinking about earlier. I‘m so frustrated that I actually believed my manipulative mother for so long. I feel like I betrayed him by believing her, but he believed her too I guess. I stare at the pale blue ceiling above me, thinking about the kiss. God, the way he pulled me closer. He has to know what he does to me. It’s honestly unfair at this point.

I naw at my bottom lip, butterflies fluttering inside me. I glance over to the door and see the edge of his shadow outside my door. My heart warms at the thought of being so close to him again. Before long, I drift off to sleep.

—-

I glance around, watching as everyone dances. The warm lights glow pleasantly, the music muffled, but nice. I smile as I see Max and Allie together, laughing. A feeling of warmth radiates through my body. I glance over and see Drake, smiling over at me. A strange feeling of familiarity falls over me slowly. Wait... This is the coronation ball, oh no.Suddenly, the warm lights go out. The ball is dark and suddenly a horrible cold feeling washes over me. I know what’s coming. No! I have to warn them! I try to scream, try to warn everyone to get down, but nothing will come out. I look down and see myself chained to a post, and feel the duck tape on my mouth.

The lights turn on again, and the assassins don’t hesitate opening fire on everyone. I scream as their bodies fall over, fighting with everything in me to be free, to help them. One near me turns, and aims and Drake. “No!” I try to say, nothing coming out. Drake just looks over at me in fear and then the assassin shoots him, making him collapse. I scream, thrashing against the binds, and suddenly, I’m in my room, and Drake is by my side, holding onto my shoulders, clearly concerned. I let out the largest sigh of relief, throwing my arms around him tightly. Tears fall out of my eyes and my shoulders shake as I sob in his arms. He holds me tightly, His body warmth calming me down. He just keeps whispering softly “it’s okay, you’ll be alright,” as I cry. 

As soon as I start to calm down, I let go of my death grip on him, leaning back. “Are you alright?” He asks, deeply concerned. I sigh, calming my nerves. “Y-yes, I am now. Sorry since the ball I’ve had these horrible dreams...” I trail off, stopping before I cry again. He reaches out, brushing my hair from my face. “It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize to me, I know nightmares better than anyone,” He says, and I nod, remembering that night when I found him in his bed, screaming in his sleep. “I had no idea you had them now,” He says sadly, looking into my eyes. “Yeah, um- if I’m being honest, I’ve been a hot mess since the ball and then my ‘surprise engagement’,” I say bitterly, fumbling with my hands in my lap. 

Drake rests his hand on mine, making me stop, looking up at him. “That makes two of us,” He says gently. My heart breaks thinking about Drake being just as heart-broken as me. “At least we’re in this together, right?” I say, and he nods, a small smile on his face. “Always.”

He stays by my side until I fall asleep.

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

-end-

I’m back! I know there’s a lot of crazy thing going on in the world right now which is horrible, but hopefully it will bring change with it! How did you guys like the first part? I love to hear your feedback ;) Thank you all for your support over the years now (crazy!) for this fic! It’s honesty hard for me to read earlier chapters, I feel like I’ve changed so much since the beginning haha. Anyway, I know this wasn’t the best part, but there are so many more exciting things I have planned! Again, thank you all for your support, if it wasn’t for all your kind words I would not have gotten so far! Love you all! 

-Ella xx

[pynkhues]

34 for any combination of annie, nancy and jt

34. Who would wear “if lost return to…” t-shirt/ Who would wear “I am…” t-shirt?

OT3 4ever! This is extremely dumb, haha, but here you go!

“What are you doing?”

The words are enough to make Annie glance sideways, to stare across the floor of their bedroom to what’s got to be one of her favourite sights these days – JT, shirtless, an equally shirt-free Dakota in his arms (which 10000% means that the breakfast of pureed apple and cinnamon [kid’s managed to cut what feels like 14 teeth at once, don’t judge] ended about as well as it always did at the moment). Only, y’know, it would be better if JT wasn’t eyeing her so judgementally.

Which isn’t unfair, Annie thinks. She has after all emptied his t-shirt drawer on the bed.

“Looking for your shirt size,” she offers flippantly, and honestly, it should be a way easier task than it is. The guy has a weird thing for cutting off the tags as soon as he gets new clothes – like he’s some sort of anti-label conspiracy theorist (or, y’know, because they itch or whatever, but the point stands).

“Nuh-uh,” he says instantly, striding into the room and dropping Dakota down onto the bed. Annie grins at the toddler, pulls a face, just to hear him shriek with laughter as he rolls into the pile of JT’s suspiciously label-less shirts. “You are not getting us matching shirts for this thing.”

Annie gapes back at him, because - - okay, for starters, how did he know? - - and second of all - -

“They’re not matching,” she sniffs, but she can’t quite bite back the grin when JT levels her with a deadpan look.

It had been Nancy’s idea after all.

Not the shirt thing, but the family vay-cay, as she put it. After all, they’d all been living together now for the better part of a year, and things were going - - well - - sort of amazingly? Sure, they had their issues – like Nancy wouldn’t know a joke if it booked an appointment and JT made Annie look like she was light on the sarcasm, and Annie was obviously perfect in every way and they were both lucky to have her – but all in all, things had been suspiciously smooth. Plus the sex was amazing, so that was gold star bonuses all round.

What was she talking about again?

OH! Family vay-cay. Right. So living together a year, loved up and shacked up, yadda yadda yadda, Ben about to start his senior year of highschool, and for some reason all of that had like, melded in Nancy’s head in the shape of a long weekend trip to Disneyland?

Whatever, Annie wasn’t complaining. She’s wanted to go to Disneyland pretty much since she could walk, and not even her occasionally lucrative career in crime had offered her the opportunity to do it (which is frankly rude. Beth and Rio went with their 1200 kids after all, even if they’d both gotten home from that particular trip lobster-red with sunburn and covered in mystery bruises and broken up for somewhere between three days and two weeks [who could even tell with them anyway?], but whatever).

“You coming back to this planet any time soon, or - -?”

Annie blinks, refocusing on JT, watching him fold his arms over his bare chest, his eyebrow raised as Dakota babbles happily on the bed beside them, and there’s just something in it, she thinks. In the lines of his face and the bright blasé-ness of his expression, and she just says it:

“God, you’re cute.”

And it’s even cuter, the way he tries to hide the way his lips twitch as he rolls his eyes. He holds out his hand instead in silent instruction, and Annie pulls out her cell, striding over and showing him the shirts.

He’s barely even looked at the thing when he says:

“Nuh-uh.”

Annie gasps, faux wounded, as JT shoves the cell back at her.

“What’s wrong with them?”

“Better question is what’s right with them, bunny, because that shit - -“

“Don’t swear in front of the baby,” Nancy sing-songs, patting her sweaty face with a towel, apparently back from her run just in time to reprimand, and JT twists to look at her as Annie twists to look at Dakota, who’s now chewing on his own arm and it’s weird how much he looks like Greg when he does that. Annie squints at him, and she swears Dakota squints back.

“Say that again when you see what she’s trying to get us to wear at Disneyland,” JT says dryly, and Nancy blinks, says:

“Oh! I already got us outfits!”

Which - - Annie reels around, eyebrows halfway up her forehead as Nancy strides over to the closet (and man, her ass looks good in her running pants), surging up towards the top shelf and pulling out a box. She spins delightedly on the spot, shaking out one of the shirts, and Annie cackles right as JT groans, because oh, this is so much worse than Annie’s idea.

“What?” Nancy asks. “I got one for all of us! The one for Ben might be a bit big though.”

And there is no way in hell they’ll be able to force Ben into this anyway, Annie thinks, staring at the bright yellow t-shirt with the enormous photo of them all Ruby had taken at Stan’s 45th birthday dinner – the picture complete with photoshopped Mickey Mouse ears on all their heads and a huge typescript of THE GANT-MARKS-PRESSMAN FAMILY VACATION 2022 pressed across the back.

“No,” JT says, shaking his head, beelining for the bed and lugging Dakota back into his arms. He turns on his heel out the room, not without waving a hand back in their direction with a sharp “Nuh-uh.”

It’s enough to make Annie laugh, and Nancy to drop her arms, annoyed, before looking at the shirt again.

“It’s cute!” she insists, and Annie leans in, pecking her on the lips, and yanking the shirt from her hands instead.

“It’s something,” she replies. “Want to see the ones I was looking at?”

[alwayssunnyprompts]

They Say We are Asleep (Until We Fall in Love)

He’s lying on his back in Mac’s bed, and the weight of the universe seems to be pushing down on his chest. Like his body is the only thing stopping the sky from crumbling, crashing down into the earth. 

Dennis tries to avoid making eye contact with Mac as much as he can, but his energy is palpable, his arm pressed up against Dennis’, his eyes warm and kind, crinkled up into the gentle expression that Dennis sees far too much these days. 

He’s eagerness and excitement and something else entirely, something too thunderous and precious and dangerous to name and suddenly everything is too small, too closed in, too tight to hold it all. 

Dennis feels too small for it, too.

The pressure of Mac’s arm almost hurts, the contact simultaneously awakening and shutting down every inch of him. His eyes flick over to Mac for a split second and something explodes in him, and he needs to snuff it out. 

He shifts his hips uncomfortably and his skin starts to prickle as his body is overcome with the restless need to move, to escape. The sense of claustrophobia is closing in, the pressure so dense and heavy and he needs to do something or he’ll scream. But everything in him is so tangled and dark and confused that he barely even knows what he’s feeling. 

So when he starts talking, he doesn’t really know where it’s coming from. What he’s talking about. His mouth quivers. 

“W-what is this, man? What are we doing? I-I don’t wanna do this anymore, can we stop?” The words tumble out like one rushed sentence and once they’re free he doesn’t know if he regrets breaking the silence. But they’re...quiet. Honest. More honest than anything he’s said in a long time. 

Mac’s smile fades. 

“Huh?”

Dennis breathes heavily, trying not to panic at the wound he’s opened within himself. The vulnerability disgusts him, makes his head spin and his brain feel like it’s swallowing him whole. It’s so deeply wrong. Violent. Raw. Overwhelming. 

“No, no, we can’t stop now! We’re right on track.” Mac’s voice is so soft and caring that Dennis wants to rip his hair out. His body is ablaze with the need to act out. 

Why is Mac pushing him? Why is he being so...supportive? It doesn’t make sense. 

And maybe he doesn’t just mean the scheme. This whole situation feels off. An achingly familiar feeling of detachment washes over him. This doesn’t feel right at all. He’s struck, suddenly, with the realization that this—trying so hard for what essentially amounted to a one-night stand with a woman he couldn’t give a shit about if he tried—doesn’t feel right anymore. In fact, he doesn’t feel much of anything anymore, and none of the old vices—sex, drugs, alcohol—quite fill the void like they used to. Maybe the void has gotten bigger, deeper, more inescapable. Maybe giving in is inevitable, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

He’s just...exhausted. Absolutely exhausted. 

“I don’t know, man. I just...it just feels like a lot of effort. If feels desperate, you know what I mean? Like...I never put this much work into banging some cute meat.” 

It’s not a lie so much as it’s a twisting of the facts. Truthfully, the effort he’d put into D.E.N.N.I.S-ing countless women hadn’t felt like effort, hadn’t felt hard, hadn’t seemed nearly impossible and grueling because, at the time, he’d convinced himself that’s what he wanted. And maybe he had wanted it. At the very least, he thought he did. But none of it ever filled the hole in him, just quieted down the echo of its emptiness for a short time. Now, even the thought of trying to impress some random woman is torturous. It feels forced, it feels meaningless. After all, he isn’t going to spend his life with any of them, that much is clear. 

He hears Mac shift on the bed, moving to sit up, confusion in his voice. 

“Cute meat?” 

A flush of embarrassment heats Dennis’ face, pulls him back from the edge for a moment. 

“‘Cute meat,’” he fires back immediately, trying to keep it light. “That was your phrase.” 

“No, Dennis. ‘Meet-Cute.’” 

“It has a name, Mac. Its name is Lisa.” 

He tries to humanize her, but even that comes out flat. He thinks that maybe saying her name will drum up some feelings, awaken some long-dormant drive, but it doesn’t. He feels nothing for this woman. And she has a husband, who is staying in their home. There are so many facets of Mac’s plan that have fallen apart that it’s hardly a scheme anymore. They’re just renting out his room to a nice couple for some cash. Anything else is a pipe dream. The hope of him finding love with this woman is a fantasy at best. Upsettingly, he is deeply relieved by the thought, a considerable weight lifting from his chest. 

Mac grins, and a place deep inside of Dennis thaws. He hates how reactive his body is to Mac sometimes, how Mac seems to instinctively know how to smooth his jagged edges. He isn’t even trying to. He just does. Dennis isn’t even sure Mac is conscious that he has this power. In fact, he’s positive he isn’t. Mac is nothing if not absolute garbage at interpreting other people’s feelings. Yet, even through his obliviousness, he’s blindingly bright in all of the ways Dennis needs him to be, in all of the ways he hates and reveres and tries desperately to ignore. 

So when Dee knocks and shatters the moment with her squawking, he jumps at the opportunity to remove himself from this situation. His mind is already calming down, his heart rate slowing to a more normal rhythm. As he curls up on the couch, comfortably cool and finally, blessedly,  alone, he finds himself wondering, for just a second, what it would have been like to wake up with Mac’s arms around him. 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Mac winks at him. A dramatic and childish gesture, but sends Dennis’ stomach plummeting. He feels his practiced disgust for only a second before the feeling morphs and flutters back into his chest, igniting there. Its pleasantness is undeniable. He smiles. It’s hesitant and small and mostly unintentional, but it’s happened before he can force himself not to. He’d missed this, this flow with Mac. Their easy rhythm. Everything can feel so easy with him, so manageable. It feels like coming home. He blinks, adjusts his face, and pulls the feelings back before they become too obvious. Thank God Mac has turned away from him, leaning towards his bedroom door. 

“Now, the plan is in motion for you.”

“Woah, woah, woah. What do you mean the plan is in motion for me? I thought I was out.” He wishes his hands would stop shaking, it’s very distracting. The surface of his coffee ripples and sways, betraying the movement. He shoves a hand in his pocket, forcing the other to grip the mug tighter. 

“Remember when we were saying that the female romantic lead would never cheat?”

“Uh-huh,” he responds, needing an explanation immediately. He tries to take a deep breath but it comes out as a forceful huff, and he definitely doesn’t feel any better. 

“Well, I overheard Lisa saying to Greg that she, ‘Misses Teddy.’ Huh? Why would she tell Greg that she misses the guy she cheated with?” He lets the information sink in for less than half a second before continuing, “Unless, she didn’t cheat on him with Teddy. Maybe Teddy is a platonic friend from high school that makes Greg jealous.”

Dennis feels his face heating up, takes a small sip of coffee to try and ground himself. 

“Don’t you know what this means? Lisa is still a romantic lead, which means?”

He’s staring at Dennis expectantly. 

He realizes that Mac has cued him up to answer the question. Everything in him is screaming stop. It takes a Herculean effort for him not to actually scream, biting his tongue in an attempt to use the pain to distract from the urge. 

Mac is smiling.

Dennis feels sick. His head is pounding furiously, his heart joining in on the relentless rhythm. His palms are sweaty. He wants to be left alone, but absolutely cannot be alone right now. He wants to yell at Mac but he doesn’t want Mac out of his sight and he’s just so tired. The wildfire in his chest is kept from destroying him only by the wave of numb indifference blanketing his body. 

But Mac is smiling. 

He already knows the answer, but he needs to say it. 

“I’m still your leading man.” 

A death sentence from his very own lips.

He wants to go to sleep.

“Yeah!” 

He glances at Mac, tearing his eyes away as quickly as he can. The hole inside him is cavernous. Any semblance of peace he’d found in abandoning the scheme shatters. Dull, cold dread settles in the pit of his stomach, and in a hazy sort of hysteria he imagines what would happen if he actually did vomit on the rug, right here, right now. Mac would probably take care of him. The thought soothes and sickens him in equal measure. 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“Now this is your moment, Mac,” he whispers urgently. “Just remember, speak from the heart. Sweep him off his feet.” 

He feels nervous. Why does he feel nervous? He’s barely involved in this plan, all he has to do is control the music. He can do that. It’s one button. 

Maybe they should have rehearsed or something. Greg didn’t need to be here at all for that. In fact, his patience has worn thin concerning this whole thing, and he just wants them out of his home. He could coach Mac through a romantic speech just as easily without them around to intrude. And as Mac starts talking, Dennis wishes that Greg would just leave. He doesn’t deserve to hear this. 

The sudden urge to cut out the middleman stops him in his tracks, and he becomes acutely aware of the situation he finds himself in. He feels too conscious of everything, the pressure of the air on his skin, the rough hems of his shirtsleeve on his forearms, the edge of the counter against his back. He is standing in the kitchen of his apartment, of their apartment, listening to Mac profess his love to a perfect stranger. A man that means nothing to him. A man that doesn’t even know him at all. 

He should feel more jealous than he does.

It’s a realization that he doesn't the mental energy to process, so he shoves it down. 

What distracts him from the treacherous thoughts, from the heated fire of jealousy, are the gentle waves of contentment washing over him as he listens to Mac speak, loud and passionate and ridiculous. His eyes slide shut for a few seconds and lets the words warm him, lets them echo through him. Imagines that he and Mac are alone, like they’ve always been–the Dynamic Duo, the two of them against the world. The evening would be golden and hazy, they'd be a little too drunk and way too close together on the couch. Mac’s words would be hushed, and he’d hang on to every lilt, every pause, every soft giggle as Mac inched closer, closing what infinitesimal space was left between them. He would finally feel held, finally feel at peace, a little less breakable, a little more fragile. 

He’s dangerously lost in the fantasy, and he’s just about to force himself out when–

“Teddy was our son.”

“He died of leukemia.”

The music. 

“Oh, you know what, let me–”

He feels half asleep as he scrambles for the CD player, and shit, his hands aren't cooperating, and his brain is partly stuck on Mac’s words and partly stuck on dead kid, and he compromises by skipping through the rest of the playlist before slamming the pause button. 

“S-sorry. I don’t have a–uh–dead kid appropriate…”

Jesus Christ. The gravity of the situation still isn’t hitting. He’s stuck in the limbo of the emotional whiplash he just experienced, and thank god Mac is here, because he could not handle the rest of the conversation. He’s speaking, but his mind is somewhere else. 

“I guess we’re not gonna get that romantic comedy ending after all,” Mac says, and something about that breaks through to him. 

He hates this. He’s been miserable for days as he humored Mac’s plan, trying to make him happy, to distract him. Maybe this was how Mac felt all the times he's tried to cater to his every whim. It’s exhausting. 

“Mac?” 

He tries not to let his voice tremble.

Mac approaches him, concern on his face.

“I’m sorry, Dennis. We can try again, find a different woman, make sure she’s single this time! I can change the plan and it’ll be good as new, you know I’m very adaptable—”

“Mac.” 

“Yeah?” He perks up, a tiny, involuntary smile playing on his lips. Mac’s smiles have a way of reaching his eyes no matter how small or quick, no trace of insincerity or forced emotion no matter how hard Dennis searched his face. Dennis has spent hours of his life seeing Mac smile, and not once has it seemed disingenuous. It’s almost admirable. 

The smile fades though, back into Mac’s most common expression around him—loving concern, a touch of confusion. He’s taken too long to respond. 

“I don’t... I don’t want that. You don’t need to keep–” his voice is thick with emotion, his throat feels raw and tight. He just wants Mac to hear him. He doesn’t want to have to say it. 

“You okay, man?” 

Something about the question ignites his anger. How does Mac not understand? How can he be so oblivious to how he’s feeling? He is not okay. Everything feels so loud, so strong, that its unthinkable that someone wouldn’t notice. He should stop, he should close his mouth and go to his room and try not to be too loud when he breaks down. But his mouth is moving ahead of his brain. 

“No, Mac. I’m not.”

The words carry a weight that hangs heavy over the room. They’ve been true for so long that he doesn’t even feel better for finally saying them. 

Mac’s face fills with glossy-eyed worry, his hand reaching out instinctively, maybe with the intention of checking his temperature, maybe just to rest on his shoulder, but he thinks better of it. Mac’s expression urges him to continue. 

“L-look...you said you had that...that thing inside of you. Remember?”

He nods, squinting.

“Well...with me it’s–” he breathes heavily, “it’s different. I’m empty. I have this...hole inside of me that I can’t fill. And it’s so deep that it aches.”

“Maybe–” 

 “I’m not like you, Mac.” There isn’t any hostility in his voice. He’s too tired.  

“Well...maybe the thing inside of me can fill the thing inside of you.” 

Everything is suspended in a thick layer of silence and time seems to wind to a stop.

Mac steps forward. Dennis flinches, but doesn’t run away. Mac’s leaning towards him and his fight or flight isn’t kicking in. Something is wrong, but it isn’t. His stomach is turning and his heart is racing and he thinks he might pass out.  Mac presses his lips to Dennis’, and something unlocks in him. He can’t control himself, can’t help but melt under Mac’s touch. 

“Fuck you,” he breathes into Mac’s mouth. “Fuck you.” 

“It’s okay,” Mac says, breathless and awed.

“It hurts, Mac,” he whispers. “It hurts.”

“I know,” he says. 

He pauses, presses a kiss to Dennis’ forehead. 

Reaches down to take his hand.

“Let me help.”

[lionveincd]

five times kissed

One. His hands are shaking - they never do that, and god this girl may just be what kills him. fourth year just gets weirder and weirder every day, but there’s always octavia blake, raven hair falling down her back as he watches her across the room. whoever’s idea it was to have a formal ball needed to rot. sweaty palms hand her drink to her as he returns and they spend the rest of the evening dancing awkwardly and laughing as other people dance far worse. Cormac, for what it was worth, had grown up at events like these and ought to be far more graceful than he was, but the drum of his heart in his chest was too loud to think, and as he left her at the Slytherin door that night he hovered uncomfortably before leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. for a moment it was like they were both startled, after all, they had gone as friends - hadn’t they? And then she laughs, and he laughs, and as she waves him off to bed he cant help but wonder what he just started. two. he’s more self assured now. with octavia and with everyone else too. his hands don’t shake anymore and any sign of young nerves has been replaced by the devilish smirk that finds its home on his face. he walks into the common room behind theo, as usual there are complaints from the slytherin portraits about a lion in their home. and then there’s octavia shutting them up with green eyes that dare them to say one more word. There’s always octavia. And now she makes a home for herself in his lap when he sits on the couch, his hands in her hair as their friends seem to watch them with curiosity. They’re still only friends, and he swears to it even as his lips blanket hers and his tongue passes through her lips. Three. back slams against stone and his laughter overtakes any pain that might have accompanied that. She’s pressed against him, hands roaming his body- his hands are twisted, knotted in her hair, holding her close as he tastes whiskey on her lips. He’s far more drunk than any alcohol could ever reach. This castle is supposed to have eyes everywhere, but he feel’s like in this dusty dirty alcove there’s only him, and octavia. there’s always octavia. his thoughts are fleeting, barely forming, because her lips are breaking away from his to his neck and if they don’t survive this year at least he will die having felt what it feels like to have your entire body go up in flames of pleasure. He flips them, puts her against the wall and lets his lips find hers again, hands cupping under her to lift as legs wrap around him. They might die in a few months, but that’s not tonight. four. he can barely see through the haze of the explosion, barely make out what has happened to him, can’t tell if a single one of those kids made it out, but he see’s octavia through it. There’s always octavia. She’s screaming his name and bellamy’s arms are around her and it occurs to him that she thinks he’s dead. he needs to sit up, but he cant, something is holding him and it’s only then that he realizes there’s metal running through his shoulder. oh. she’s still screaming. her voice sounds more and more feral the longer it goes and if she keeps it up she’ll draw attention to herself. she must have broken through bellamy now because he can feel her at his side, and then her lips are on his and he’s forcing himself to kiss her back if only to prove that he’s still alive. she tastes of blood and chaos and desperation. five. He’s drunk and sloppy and depression has certainly gotten the worst of him these days. there’s no arguing that he’s not okay. he spends his nights quieting trhe demons, and in the end someone takes him home. Blaise and Theo usually, sometimes Draco and Greg step in. Millie got him last night. he’s seven deep in firewhiskey and he didn’t count the gigglewaters and when octavia shows up in a rinky-dink muggle bar, he thinks she’s some kind of angel coming to collect him. he tells her so, drunk and foolish and falling all over himself. but she’s not an angel, she’s real. There’s octavia to take him home tonight.

he’s too drunk to realize tonight. there’s always octavia.

[graybeards]

A Gentlemen’s Bet

“How about we make things interesting?” John suggested, his chapped lips pressed into a devious sneer. “I’ll give you once last chance. I’ll let you raise me to all in.” His deep voice commanded the room, drawing all eyes to him. He was a real man’s man, pushing 50 with crisp blue eyes, a thick head of gray hair, and a gut stretching the middle of his polo shirt.

I narrowed my eyes and pointed out, “But I don’t have anything else to bet.” Every dollar my wife had let me bring was already in the pot. But he had my attention, even Hank and Greg sidled back up the table to see if I could pull out the win and take home the cash John had already won off them.

John leaned back in his chair, savoring my poorly-concealed desperation, and finally said, “You know, you’ve always had a big mouth. Gossip like a girl and talk a bigger game than you ever bring.” The guys leaned in interestedly, but I was wary. He went on, “So put that mouth in the pot and we’ll settle this.”

“My mouth?” I repeated, baffled.

“If I win, I get to put your big mouth to work on my big dick,” he declared, raising his voice over Hank and Greg’s uproarious laughter. 

Rolling my eyes, I said, “Don’t be an asshole. It’s seriously not funny.”

“Yeah. I’m not kidding,” John smugly declared. “Are you in or not?” The whole room went quiet until I could hear my heart pounding. I anxiously inspected my hand, a Jack high straight, and thought of the nearly $2,000 at stake. He was just fucking with me, I thought. He just wanted to rattle me and I wasn’t about to flinch first.

“You’ve got a deal,” I replied. “All-in it is.”

My eyes went wide as he pushed every dollar he’d won into the pot and said, “Let’s see ‘em then.” 

I trembled as I lay my cards on the table. I tried to be confident, but my words came out in a whisper, “Jack high straight.” I almost jumped for joy when John frowned, but when our eyes met, the corners of his mouth rose into a grin as he lay down a Queen high straight.

Nobody said a word as John and I stared at each other. He drank in the sight of my crestfallen face and dominated my gaze until I lowered my eyes to the table. John broke out into a gleeful smile and said, “Looks like all’s left is for me to claim my winnings. You guys want to watch?”

Hank and Greg just looked over at me and slowly, horrifyingly smirked. I stood up on shaky legs and stammered, “Well, I should get going. Good game, guys. I had—”

Greg raised a silencing hand. He was the host, a king in his own castle, and he said, “A bet’s a bet, man. You’ve gotta settle up.”

John pushed his chair back and spread his legs, fondling the sizable bulge in his jeans. He suggested, “Why don’t you get the three of us another round of beers before you start, cocksucker?”

Hank nodded in agreement and said, “I’ll actually have a bourbon on the rocks.”

The three men stared at me expectantly until, in a daze, I glided to the bar. They grinned at each other as I poured and returned with a round of drinks. John shook his head when I raised my beer to my lips, and he said, “Now, now, you’ve got work to do so I’ll have that.” The man held out his hand until I reluctantly pressed my glass into it and was rewarded by his deep voice rumbling, “Good boy.”

“Fuck you guys,” I sighed as I sank to my knees at my best friends’ feet as they shuffled their chairs close around me. I scooted forward between John’s widespread legs and reached out toward his belt, but he grabbed my wrist in his powerful hand.

They all chuckled as he said, “Well, aren’t you eager. But I need a little more romancing than that. Why don’t you strip for us, slut?”

“Oh come on,” I protested, but quickly succumbed. I unbuttoned my shirt, slowly revealing a chest still smooth and slender as it was when I was in my twenties. Greg whistled appreciatively and rubbed his hand over his own crotch. I blushed and sighed, but discarded the shirt and went to work on my jeans. It would only get worse when they saw my briefs.

Hank snorted into his bourbon when he caught glimpse of my tight-fitting, bright red briefs, and he taunted, “Damn, I wish my wife wore panties half that nice.” The others murmured in agreement but I just kept my eyes down as I peeled off my jeans.

Stripped down to my briefs, I looked up at John’s mocking face as he slowly shook his head and commanded, “Lose the panties.” I wanted to run, to storm out, but the sternness of the man’s voice as he stared down at me broke my resistance. I pulled my briefs down my legs and threw them aside, finally kneeling naked between my three best friends with my diminutive manhood on display. John smiled with a strange sort of warmth and said, “Perfect.”

It wasn’t the first time any of us had seen each other naked, but it was far different. I was reduced. The three men seemed to swell and tower over me as I became less than. I should have felt humiliated, but mostly I just felt eager. When John nodded his approval and allowed me to unbuckle his belt, I felt a shameful flood of excitement.

His body was warm beneath my fingertips as I struggle to unbutton his jeans and unzip his fly. He lifted himself to let me slide them down around his ankles and reveal a pair of flannel boxers bulging with the John’s still soft and much renowned cock. The wives remarked about it on occasion, in their sideways fashion. We’d all seen it, but only soft. Even so it hung about half a foot down his thigh and I found myself wondering just how much the thing could grow.

I fished him through the fly of his boxers as he gulped down the last drops of my beer and grinned at our buddies. I could feel their hot breath on my shoulders as they leaned in to watch. John’s cock gushed the sweaty, pheromone-rich smell of a long day into my nostrils. I winced at the stench, but my mouth watered nonetheless. His icy eyes met mine as he grabbed his big floppy dick in one hand and the back of my head in the other.

The meaty mushroom at the tip of his shaft squished against my closed lips, smearing them with a sheen of the man’s precum. “Open up, princess,” John demanded.

“Fuck—” I started to say, but he shoved himself inside me and let me feel the immense heft of his manhood depressing my tongue. He pulled me close, burying my nose in his pungent boxers and letting his still-soft cock tickle my throat. 

John let out a moan and he grunted, “Damn, his mouth was made for this.”

“It feels good?” Greg asked in a strained, eager voice.

“Like a pussy on his face,” John chuckled. “Those big, full lips are squeezing me and damn… that tongue.” I hadn’t realized what I was doing, but he was right. My lips were massaging the base of his shaft as my tongue teased along its massive underbelly, and with every moment I felt his flesh stiffen and swell. His floppy cock reached down into my throat just before it began to firm up. As he thickened, he stretched me open around him and held my head in his lap. “Fuck. I’m going to bust the biggest nut down his throat.”

“Fuck yeah,” Hank muttered close to my ear, “is it weird that I’m getting hard just watching this?”

“You’re not the only one,” Greg admitted with a laugh. “He looks like a little bitch on his knees like that, doesn’t he?” He put a hand on my back and pushed me harder into John’s crotch as I gagged, sputtering up spit that just lubed his cock. John started fucking my face, holding my head in both hands and using me like a fleshlight.

“He’s actually got a nice ass too,” Hank whispered, grabbing a fistful of my cheek and rubbing a thick finger against my virgin hole. “You ever fuck a girl in the ass?”

John let out a pleasurable sigh before he said, “Jess let me one time, but she barely lasted five minutes before she made me stop.”

Greg laughed and said, “Well, yeah, you’re hung like a fucking moose. I actually spent my whole freshman year fucking my roommate since it beat jerking off when I got horny.”

“Damn,” Hank exclaimed, “that’s a good point. I’ve always wondered what it felt like, but Beth would never go for it.”

John ruffled my hair and said, “I bet this bitch wouldn’t mind having her pussy popped open. What do you think, slut?”

For the first time in almost five minutes, he let me pull my lips up off his cock. Looking down, the enormity of the man finally sunk in as I watched almost nine inches of flesh slide out of me like a perverted magic trick, leaving my throat with a foreign feeling of longing emptiness. I sputtered and protested, “Guys, I’ve never done anything like that. I don’t know about—”

Hank had pulled over an ottoman and Greg grabbed me by the hips and lifted me up off the ground, burying my face against John’s thigh. Hank slid the ottoman under my chest so I was bent over it with my knees hanging just off the ground. He hurriedly came behind me, kicking my feet to the side as he kneeled and hugged his body over mine. He ran his fingers over my ass as he whispered, “Come on, baby. We all see the way you’re slobbering on John. We always wondered about you, and now the secret’s out. It’s gonna feel good. I promise.”

I let out a little moan when Hank rubbed his bulging jeans against my bare ass, and the guys all grinned. John declared, “Sounds like someone’s horny for more cock, Hank. Why don’t you indulge him?” John grabbed me and shoved his dripping wet manhood back down my throat, and I heard the telltale sound of unzipping jeans just before Hank rubbed his slick, hard cock against my clenched hole.

“It helps if you eat him out, especially if he’s a virgin,” Greg offered.

Hank scoffed, “Man, isn’t that a little gross?”

“Naw, man. It’s fucking fun. Here, let me get him ready for you,” Greg said as he pushed him out of the way and knelt behind me. His thick scruff scraped against my smooth cheeks just before he ran his tongue over my hole. Despite myself, I moaned around John’s cock and it just egged the men on. I clenched my fingers into John’s thighs as Greg bashed his tongue against me, battering at the door eager to slide into me. “His pussy tastes fucking great,” he mumbled into me.

In the same moment, John pushed back down my throat and Greg’s tongue breached my unyielding ass. I trembled with the flood of sensation as my friend stretched me open.

“Oh fuck,” John growled through clenched teeth, “he’s milking the shit out of me. I’m gonna cum.” His words didn’t fill me with anger, disgust, or even relief. Instead, my skin tingled with anticipation as I felt his shaft pulse against my lips. A rush of cum flooded into my throat, and when his hand went limp, I pulled back, not out of a desire to escape but an urge to soak my tongue and coat my mouth with the man’s hot, thick seed.

He fed me mouthfuls of the ropy white goop, leaning back in his chair with occasional spasms of pleasure as his potent cock pumped out a fresh burst. All three of the men bellowed taunts and jeers, but I was deaf to everything but the flood filling my stomach. I didn’t even notice when it ended, when I was uselessly suckling at a dry shaft, until John ran his fingers through my hair and pulled my lips close until they were tight around the base of his softening member.

“Is his ass ready?” Hank’s eager voice broke my trance. I suddenly noticed the fullness of Greg’s tongue inside me when he pulled it out and made way. Hank grabbed my hips and used that leverage to power a merciless thrust that sent his cock blowing past my loosened hole into the depths of my virgin tunnel. 

I howled around John’s flesh, squirming against the men until Greg mounted me, sitting astride my back to pin me to the ground. My hands scrambled until John grabbed me by the wrists and pressed them to his thighs. I was utterly helpless to Hank’s primal rutting inside me.

“Definitely a virgin,” Greg chuckled as he lay his rigid cock across my back. Hank bottomed out inside me and bucked up against the heavy man atop me, but Greg just let his weight sink down as he smacked his manhood against my soft skin. He snorted, “He’s a good ride though. Nice and spirited.”

John laughed, “He’ll be broken by the time the night’s over.”

“I’ve never fucked a hole like this,” Hank said. “His ass keeps trying to push me out, but it just feels like fucking heaven on my dick.”

“Damn,” John muttered, “I’ll have to try that next time.”

“Right?” Greg agreed. “He’s definitely gonna be our poker pussyboy from now on. Aren’t you, girl?” He patted me on the head. “Kneeling under the table while the men play.”

“Oh man, that’s weirdly hot,” Hank rasped. “I think I’m gonna cum.” His heavy hips slammed into my butt hard enough to leave a bruise, never resting for long.

Greg whipped his cock against my back between strokes and his voice was strained when he said, “I’ll try to finish at the same time.” Hank’s guttural groan came quickly, and Greg echoed it a few seconds later. John humped his soft cock back into my throat and the constant smell of his crotch was blocked from my nose. Hank’s nuts slapped against my ass one last time before his manhood started filling my virgin hole with his breeding juice. A long rope of cum burst from Greg, trailing from the back of my head halfway down my back, and it was followed by many more until warm goo coated my shoulders and neck.

All the while, I could do nothing but wiggle underneath the three men as my rigid little dick spilled its bounty on the ottoman. I wanted to rage, to fight back, but the notion felt so far away at that point. A quiet, but growing, part of me wanted more. It liked this feeling, this humiliation and disempowerment. There’s a peace of mind in submission, and it was proving intoxicating.

It was many minutes before my best friends untangled from my cum-filled and drenched body, standing with flaccid cocks hanging out of their jeans and going on as if nothing just happened. When I slowly rose, Greg’s load traveled down my back in thick rivulets. Hank’s dripped from my stretched hole. John’s settled in my stomach and what was left outside me already dried on my face.

The three regarded me with lascivious grins, no longer seeing me as the fourth amigo, but instead as a dominated bitch to be used. It was a strange feeling, to be finally seen for the person I’ve always known myself to be. 

John grunted, “You look like you could use that drink.”

“Yeah,” I said in a small voice with an exhausted smile. “That was pretty intense.”

“Sure thing. I’m just about done with it,” he boomed and lowered his bottle mouth to the tip of his cock. I watched, transfixed, as his stream began to flow, rapidly recycling the beer back into its bottle. Hank and Greg grabbed empties and began brewing their own drinks for me. John just grinned at my forlorn expression until his piss overflowed from the bottle and puddled on the floor in front of him.

John offered the bottle to me but I just shook my head. He laughed and said, “Your choice, but I sure got plenty of pictures of you with my big dick down your throat. Wouldn’t it be a shame if those got around?” I stared down at the offered bottle and hesitantly accepted it. John insisted, “Now let’s see you gulp this one down. We were nice enough to brew you up something and now we want to see you enjoy it.”

I pressed the bottle to my lips, tasting the man’s potent piss on the rim. I paused, and John pressed his fingertips to the bottle and slowly tipped it toward my mouth. The flavor filled my mouth, making me cough and sputter as I struggled to shotgun the warm, bitter drink. They all grinned and laugh, savoring the sight of my ultimate emasculation. I choked on the last gulp.

“Nice job, pussyboy,” Greg praised, patting me on the shoulder as he pressed his bottle into my other hand. “Now drink up. And don’t forget to lick up everything John spilled. Only polite to leave my house clean as you found it.”

Warm bottle against my palm. Perverse grins on my friends’ faces. Seed swishing around my insides. It was all so wrong, but it felt so right, and the only protest I managed to muster was a meekly whispered, “Yes, sir.” 

I’d lost the bet, but in truth, I hadn’t put up anything I wasn’t willing to lose.

[lovixcore]

May I have this dance? (amedot fic)

One-Shot

Summary: 2. We were dancing but all of a sudden it’s a slow song and we’re standing here awkwardly staring at each other (Prompt)

Notes: So around a year ago, someone requested this for a prompt game. Originally this took over a week, due to brainstorming and being busy with school. I've rewritten this several times since, so it went from 800 words to 1000 to 1700 to now over 2000 words. I completely changed the ending back in December, so that's why it's way longer. I'm pretty happy with how it came out, because it doesn't feel as fast paced as it was before and I worked really hard on this fic. (Update/Edit)

Word Count: 2365 words

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15794496

It was the evening of Steven’s fifteenth birthday. August 15th. And of course they were celebrating the occasion by throwing a party for him. It was just the gems, Connie, and Steven’s dad, Greg. They were all on the dance floor that had been set up by Greg and Bismuth earlier in the day. Unsurprisingly, Steven and Connie were dancing together, as Lapis stood off to the side. She wasn’t really that much of a dancer. She stood off to the side with Greg, watching him dj music. Garnet, Bismuth, and Pearl had been chatting the night away. And then there was Amethyst and Peridot, who were dancing together as well.

After one song finished, another one started playing. The mood of the song had changed from a tone that sounded fun to a tone that was more so slow and calm. It almost even sounded romantic. ‘Oh my stars. The dance for this sound would be slow dancing? Wouldn’t it?’ Sometime ago, after watching an episode of Camp Pining Hearts, Peridot’s curiosity got the best of her, so she decided to look up what a slow dance was, the definition being ‘a type of partner dance in which a couple dance slowly, swaying to the music, usually done to very slow-beat songs, namely sentimental ballads.’ Peridot then looked over at the purple quartz, almost like she was now staring at her, as Amethyst awkwardly stood there, staring back. Both wondering if the other gem would even want to.

After at least a couple of seconds of just awkwardly standing there and staring at each other, Amethyst finally spoke up, breaking the silence between them and risking the chance of being rejected, asking “Peridot, may I have this dance?” in a tone that came off as daring and bold but also tense, nervous, anxious..

Amethyst then gently pulled her in, firmly but also gently placing her hand onto Peridot’s hip. Peridot, in response, put her left hand on Amethyst’s arm, with her right hand locked in with Amethyst’s right hand. The rhythm of their bodies slowly danced with the sentimental and passionate music. Peridot found herself trembling and shaking, with her cheeks burning as they had now turned into a light shade of blue, admiring how beautiful Amethyst was. Her chest felt a mix of so many different things. It felt heavy. It felt tingly. It felt like her chest was pounding to the point where it might burst. ‘Stop staring at her like that you clod!’ Peridot told herself in an effort to stop herself from staring at Amethyst, secretly praying that she would never notice how flustered she was. How head over heels she was.

She then looked down, so she wouldn’t stare at Amethyst anymore, and so it wouldn’t be noticeable that she was a complete mess. And yeah, she was a complete mess. She was trembling, blushing, and she had so many weird feelings in her chest. After about 30 or so more seconds of dancing, Peridot finally looked back up at Amethyst as she had told her to. Her breathing had now become little of depth, and her chest now practically felt like it was racing, merely seconds away from bursting. Her face was now incredibly close to Amethyst’s, as she felt her lips inching closer to Amethyst’s. She caught herself, immediately pulling away.

“I.. I have to go,” Peridot stammered as she had nothing else to say to her in an attempt to flee. She was now looking away from Amethyst, avoiding eye contact altogether. She then ran off, disappearing from sight.

Amethyst just stood there, now alone on the dance floor. She was incredibly confused and nearly in disbelief, but also somewhat hurt, with the feeling like she had been punched in the gut. She felt rejected. She felt incredibly stupid, for even asking Peridot to slow-dance with her, because she should’ve known it was a dumb idea. She then buried her face into her hands, frustrated and mad at herself, ‘Ugh. I.. I really messed up this time. I should have known she was gonna get super uncomfortable. I should’ve known that things were gonna get really weird and awkward. This is all my fault.. I should’ve never asked her to slow-dance.. I mean.. why would she want to slow dance with me anyways? ...I know I wouldn’t want to..’ After taking a minute or two to collect her thoughts, she ran after Peridot, following her into the beach house, which was half-way through being renovated. It was pitch dark inside the beach house, and completely silent. She turned on the lights, now slowly and quietly walking. “..Peridot?” She then asked, the tone of her voice being cautious. No response. “Peri, is.. Is everything okay?” Still no response. ‘She has to be in the bathroom.’ And so she was. Just sitting there, by herself, hiding her face in her knees, which she was hugging. “Oh man, Peridot.” She sighed, “Per.. I’m sorry.. I should’ve never asked you to slow dance..”

After a few seconds of complete silence between the two, Peridot finally spoke up, in a quiet and muffled but clearly pained and frustrated sounding tone of voice, “You asking me to slow dance was not the problem.”

“Oh? Then.. what’s wrong, P-Dot? Did I.. did I do something back out on the dance floor to upset you?” Amethyst asked. She was now confused, as her asking Peridot to slow-dance when she didn’t want to was not the problem, like she had thought previously. But, what else would have upset her?

“No, no.. You were not the problem, Amethyst. Not at all. You did nothing wrong,” Peridot said in response. She then lifted her head from her knees and looked up at the purple quartz, her cheeks now a light shade of blue. She sighed, “I am just.. Incredibly embarrassed… That is all.”

“Embarrassed? Wait, why?” Amethyst asked, surprise and confusion written all over her face. What would Peridot have to be embarrassed about?

“Because!” Peridot blurted out in obvious frustration. She was mad. Mad at herself. Mad that she ran off like that. Mad that she couldn’t even slow-dance with Amethyst without embarrassing herself and making herself look like a complete fool, she was mad. “Ergh!” She shouted, not knowing what else to say to Amethyst as she frustratedly tugged on her hair. Realizing how upset she was getting, she then paused and took a deep breath to calmly collect herself. “Amethyst, it’s not that I didn’t want to slow dance with you.. Because, frankly, I did. I did want to slow dance with you. And If I didn’t want to, I would have said so. But I kept staring at you, and I was trembling, and blushing. I even think my hands were sweaty? But frankly, I was just a mess. And it was just very.. embarrassing.”

“Ohh, right..,” Amethyst mumbled. She then took a step closer towards the bathtub. “..Is it.. Is it because you don’t like it when I touch ya or whatever? ‘Cause, I’ve noticed that ya’ve gotten super uncomfortable whenever I do, and I - uh - can back off if ya want me to. Y’know? If I’m ever making ya uncomfortable in anyway, just say so. Okay?”

“No! That is not what I meant! ..Amethyst, I do like it when we touch.. A lot! ..Almost too much.. But, I hate the way it makes me feel when we touch.. Because whenever you do touch me, I just, freeze up or blush or all of the above.. Because I like you so much,” Peridot rambled, making frustrated hand gestures as she admitted her feelings for the other gem. “And, I know you have noticed. That’s why I ran off.. Because I was incredibly embarrassed of you noticing how flustered I was.”

“Ugh.. Peridot..,” Amethyst groaned as she buried her face into her hands.

“W-what? Did I say something wrong?” Peridot asked her, now confused but also concerned that she might have said something that upset or weirded out Amethyst by the tone of her voice.

“You’re.. You’re not the only one who becomes a complete mess. Whenever I’m around you, you make me feel so mushy... Like. all. The time.” Amethyst made frustrated hand gestures and tugged on strands of her hair as she spoke about how Peridot made her feel. Now she was blushing herself. Peridot gave her a confused look in response, she had never noticed Amethyst ‘become a complete mess’ when she was around her. Maybe it was just that Peridot was rather oblivious to it. “It’s lame. Right?” She then sighed and crossed her arms. “I just..really hate that I love the way you make me feel.”

Peridot gave Amethyst a weak but also the most softest and gentle smile, as it made her really happy to hear Amethyst say all of that, “I’m glad that you feel the same way..”

“Good..,” Amethyst said, smiling back at her. She then walked towards the tub and lent her hand out to Peridot, “So, you want help out of the tub?”

“Yes, please..”

“Okay..,” Peridot slipped her fingers into Amethyst’s, grabbing onto her as Amethyst helped her up. She then carefully stepped out of the tub, her fingers still laced through Amethyst’s. This got Amethyst to impulsively ask, “So, what if I held your hand?”

In response, Peridot looked at her, bewildered. She then asked, “Like how you’re holding it right now?” as she lightly squeezed Amethyst’s hand.

“Mmm, yeah.”

Peridot gave her a simple response of “It feels..nice..” To her, even the brush of Amethyst’s thumb against her palm felt amazing, and lit her up inside. “But, at the same time I feel nervous, but that’s okay because I like getting to hold your hand.”

“So, uh, what if I kissed your hand?” Amethyst asked in an unusually shy manner. She was now blushing, with a tender but almost nervous look on her face. “Would that be okay?”

“Yes.”

Amethyst slowly lifted one of Peridot’s hands, the one that she was holding, up to the level of her lips. She then gently and softly kissed it.

And even though it was just a small kiss on the hand, the color of Peridot’s cheeks turned into a light blue, now overwhelmed with the feeling of butterflies swirling in her stomach, the feeling of her cheeks burning.

“Was that.. Was that okay?” Amethyst asked, noticing how Peridot’s face was now burning, as she had looked rather uncomfortable.

“Yes..”

“You sure?” Amethyst asked her. “Because, I don’t wanna pressure ya into doing this stuff if it makes ya uncomfortable. Y’know?”

“Amethyst.. It’s okay,” Peridot softly spoke, reassuring her, as she squeezed the nervous gem’s hand and gave her a loving smile to let her know everything was okay. And this then led to them just staring at each other, admiring the other gem and how pretty they were. Amethyst was just so beautiful. Her long, thick, and messy lavender hair, her little nose, her full and plump lips, her big blue eyes, and everything about her body. It was so hard for Peridot to not stare at her just because of how pretty she thought Amethyst was. “So, what if you kissed me?” Peridot blurted out, asking from a sudden impulse.

Amethyst’s eyes widened out of surprise, her lips now parted. She then asked, “You want me to kiss you?”

“Yes..? Is that bad..?” Peridot asked her, as the tone of Amethyst’s voice and the look on her face had concerned her that kissing would be a bad idea.

“No, dude, not at all. I guess, it’s just, I dunno, surprising?”

“Amethyst, out on the dance floor, I.. I tried to kiss you,” Peridot admitted to her, now blushing out of embarrassment and avoiding making eye contact with Amethyst. She then took a deep breath and looked back at Amethyst again, asking “How is it surprising that I want to kiss you?”

“Wait, what?” Amethyst asked her in a higher-pitched voice, being louder than she had intended, now even more surprised then she was before. “You actually tried to kiss me?”

“Yes, I did. That would be another reason for why I ran off. I nearly kissed you, and I thought that you would not want the same and I didn’t want to overstep a boundary, so I ran off.”

“Of course I want to kiss you, Peridot!” Amethyst exclaimed, now visibly blushing.

“You do?” Peridot asked. Now it was Peridot’s turn to be surprised as Amethyst had been rather subtle about her feelings for Peridot in the past.

“Yes. I do. For so long, I’ve wanted to kiss you, badly. But I was never able to because I was so scared of messing things up, and me being completely clueless to it, thought that you would never want the same.”

Suddenly feeling brave, Peridot got closer to her, now stroking Amethyst’s palm with her thumb, softly and quietly saying into her ear “Well.. nothing’s stopping you from doing so now.”

Amethyst looked at her with softest but also most flirtatious smile on her face. As Amethyst’s face inched closer to hers, Peridot’s chest started to race again, the pounding getting faster and faster. She could feel herself getting closer to Amethyst, tilting her head and closing her eyes, feeling Amethyst’s breath against her lips. She could see how dark Amethyst’s cheeks were. And then it happened. She was the one who gently placed her lips onto the other gem’s lips, giving into the strong urge she had lived with for months of wanting to kiss her. She then wrapped her arms around Amethyst’s neck, as Amethyst grabbed her waist, kissing her back, which deepened the kiss and stole Peridot’s breath. They then pulled away, heavily breathing and giving themselves a few seconds, but then their lips met, again, and again, and again. She then looked at the purple gem who looked blown away. Entranced. Head over heels for Peridot.

“Holy smokes..,” Peridot managed to spit out, as she was completely blown away by their first kiss and still holding onto Amethyst. They then let go of each other.

“So, uh, how do you feel now?” Amethyst asked her, giving Peridot a lopsided smile.

“A-A lot? I feel.. A lot.” She bit down on her lips, clamming them shut, attempting to calm her gasps. The echoes of her beating heart began grasping at her throat, trying to escape from her rib cage, fighting the bones holding it hostage. “But, I do know that kissing is something I would like to do more.”

"Heh, yeah, I.. feel a lot of things right now too, but I definitely know I wanna kiss ya more," Amethyst smiled, moving the hair out of her face. After a few moments of silence and smiling lovingly at each other, Amethyst spoke up, saying, "Soo, d'ya wanna go back outside now? I mean, we don't have to buttt.. I'm pret-ty sure that the others have noticed we ran off by now, and are probably wondering what's up.. Heh, maybe they assumed we ran off to make out or somethin' like that," Amethyst rambled. She then looked over at Peridot, who was visibly blushing out of slight embarrassment. "But anyways, I'm rambling...so..?"

"Yeah," She replied, cracking a small smile. "We probably should."

Amethyst reached for Peridot's hand, slipping her fingers in-between hers. "Is this.. okay?" She stared into Peridot's nervous eyes, watching as her mouth fell agape, in a surprising manner. The purple quartz began to quickly pull her hand away from the other gem's hold. "W-we don't have to if you don't want to."

Peridot reached for Amethyst's hand, grabbing it back, managing to stutter out, "N-no!" She froze, embarrassed from raising her voice.

Amethyst fought to keep herself from laughing, only to fail. She started with a toothy smile. She then began giggling, and finished with uncontrollable laughter. She shut her eyes as she teared up, wiping the tears from her face.

Peridot blushed, feeling singled out. "Hey.. stop," She quietly begged, awkwardly smiling at the other gem.

Opening her eyes, Amethyst noticed she made Peridot feel rather uncomfortable. She stopped herself from laughing out of respect for her girlfriend. "Sorry, P-dot," She apologized, grabbing hold of Peridot's hand again. "It's just that- y'know- we're starting out with all of this ..uh, stuff?" She tried to explain herself, "And um.. I'm just as nervous as you are, okay? I'm.. sorry. I've just never had this kind of relationship before and I don't really know how to act. Y'know?" She squeezed Peridot's hand, hoping it would help the situation.

"I.. don't exactly know how to act either, Amethyst," Peridot started, "It's like.. we were friends a couple of hours ago and now we're.." She averted her gaze, studying the tiles of the bathroom floor below them. She then looked up back at Amethyst, "What are we?"

"Uh, I dunno, girlfriends?"

"Yeah, girlfriends..," She giggled, with a lopsided smile across her face. She then sighed, "... What I’m saying is that I've never been in a romantic relationship before either."

This got a small chuckle out of Amethyst, "Well, I'm glad to know I'm not alone on that." She peered down at their intertwined hands and then looked back up at Peridot, with a shy look on her face, "So this is okay, right?"

"It's.. perfect," The green gem softly smiled at her. Amethyst smiled back, leaning forward and pecking Peridot's cheek. This got Peridot to giggle, and an unmistakable blush appear across her face. They then walked out together, holding hands.