#this is before Tyler in the sense that it's before he was well cooked. Before they met. Etc. Pretty early into the support groups. But yk

[starsluver]

The Slytherin Boys fav artists

Notes: realistic but kinda delusional (not tiktok kinda delusion tho🎀) ALSO NONE OF THESE GIFS ARE MINE!!

Before we start, we all know FOR A FACT. They all listen to UK drill rap cause they're all British. Kinda Except Theo,Mattheo and Blaise AND DEFINITELY TOM. Theo's Italian and he'd probably listen to Italian hip-hop which is a thing 😭. Mattheo's LATINO which a lot of people forget, Benjamin Wadsworth is Mexican but ngl I feel like Mattheo would either be Colombian, Puerto Rican, Guatemalan or Mexican or like a mix of either two. I feel like Blaise would like 90's and early 2000's hip hop like 2pac,Eazy-E, etc. Tom wouldn't listen to music at all because he thinks it's a waste of time🎀

Mattheo Riddle

He def listens to the smiths, We know thissss. But he'd definitely listen to Arctic monkeys but he'd be the type of person that's like "well you don't like the song LIKE I LIKE THE SONG" (our sassy king) and would gatekeep every unreleased song. He'd probably also listen to Peso Pluma but either people wouldn't believe him or he wouldn't tell anyone. I already know he listens to Kali Uchis and Melanie Martinez, they're literally his celeb crushes like he'd have literally all of their merch NO MATTER THE PRICE and when someone says they like Melanie or Kali he'd be like "oh well do you have the crybaby coloring book/ red moon Venus tote bag? I didn't think so 🙄" low-key feel like he's a theater kid but wouldn't tell ANYONE (Tom would threaten to tell people tho) He'd definitely listen to Ivan Cornejo and Dannylux and Junior H (blud is MAD depressed) I also feel like he'd listen to Chicano oldies or modern Chicano oldies like parachute, la vida es fria, nobody's clown, etc. ( I NEED CHICANO!MATTHEO RIDDLE!!!) he also listens to Mon Laferte and Selena Quintanilla<3

Theodore Nott

We already know he'd listen to Deftones but he'd DEFINITELY listen to Pierce The Veil. I feel like he'd listen to Lana Del Rey because People kept telling him to, he listens to Lana with Mattheo but Theo's not like the "I need this song injected into my veins" fan. He'd listen to Cigarettes after Sex to be mysterious. HE'D LISTEN TO MANESKIN!!!! I can't even lie he'd listen to Daniel Caesar and Frank Ocean because Blaise made him (Frank PLEASEEEEEE DROP ANOTHER ALBUM) secretly listens to beach Bunny and Laufey but wouldn't tell anyone. I feel like him and Mattheo would listen to Mac Miller and/or Mac DeMarco but that's probably out of delusion

Lorenzo Berkshire

To be fr, Enzo would listen to Brent Faiyaz and the neighborhood. But out of delusion he'd listen to Laufey, Sabrina Carpenter, and Olivia Rodrigo. He'd definitely listen to the weekend, Arctic monkeys, Chase Atlantic, and Montell Fish. BUT OUT OF DELUSION AGAIN he'd listen to Ariana Grande. Honestly all the Slytherin boys would listen to Frank Ocean and the weekend.

Draco Malfoy

My fav ferret. I already know this MF listens to Chappell Roan, he won't admit it but it's not like everyone can tell (he listens to Good luck, babe! Thinking about Harry) he'd definitely listen to Chase Atlantic and the neighborhood, it's like common sense. But this MF listens to Sabrina Carpenter, Megan Thee stallion, Lady Gaga, and Ariana Grande when everyone thinks he's listening to The weekend/ Brent Faiyaz. Ngl I feel like he's team Drake and would try to convince himself that Drake won as Blaise and Mattheo play not like us for the 7th time.

Blaise Zabini

My underrated king. My man has TASTE. he listens to Bob Marley, 2pac, Eazy-E, 50 cent, Lauryn Hill, Mary J. Blidge, Destiny's Child, TLC, Megan Thee stallion, Sade, Flo Milli, Kendrick Lamar, Micheal Jackson, The Weekend, Tyler the Creator, Bruno Mars, Frank Ocean, H.E.R. and Childish Gambino. Superior music taste but HE DOES NOT PLAY ABOUT HIS MUSIC, if you change one of his favorite songs while he's listening to it. You're done, you're cooked.

Tom Riddle

Funny than you think he'd listen to music but anyways he only has Spotify to listen to true crime podcasts. He'd secretly listen to Arctic monkeys and Queen and possibly the smiths if you're really delusional. And I mean REALLY REALLY DELUSIONAL. Mattheo would tell everyone that Tom listens to Karma by JoJo siwa and no one would believe him (he actually does)

[negrowhat]

Rain as Payu's Lover

This was requested by @25shadesoffebruary (TYLER I'M SORRY THIS HAS TAKEN SO LONG!)

I am in no way an expert; merely a spectator with thoughts and opinions. Just something to chew on for people with PayuRain headcanons. Just here for your enjoyment, you don't have to agree or disagree.

I've been trying to figure out what type of lover to classify Rain as when really he has the capacity to be any type of lover since he's just being introduced to sex with Payu. He's still in a stage of exploration, and trying new things, and trial and error.

He's definitely starting off as a bratty sub but given that his partner is clearly a Dom it would make sense that he would fall into that role of submission because he knows it's what his P'Payu likes and what P'Payu likes he gets...when Rain says so...

Not to say that Rain doesn't like being a sub, he obviously seems to enjoy being a mouthy yet obedient lover to Payu...but maybe he likes other things too?

Let's talk a bit more about the sub thing; their everyday relationship leans towards a D/s one. Rain constantly talks about being a good and obedient boy and speaks to Payu with the respect that Payu has set as a clear expectation from him. But we've also seen instances where Rain purposefully uses foul language to get a rise out of Payu in the hopes of being taught a lesson in the bedroom.

He seems to enjoy Payu's punishments as much as he enjoys the rewards and the praises. Like that one episode where Rain was texting Payu right before his test and Payu promised him a reward if he passed his exam and then Rain asked him what would happen if he failed and Payu said that he should be prepared for a punishment. The SMILE on Rain's face as this text conversation takes place, he's way into it. He's giddy at the thought of being covered in kisses and drenched in praises or maybe risk the chance of finding out what punishments Payu has cooked up for him...he knows Payu has ways of straightening him out. He's as easy as a coin toss in some moments.

When Rain is feeling like being P'Payu's good boy then I imagine he's extremely submissive; on his best behavior. He speaks to Payu gently and formally and I'm sure he's wallowing in Payu's praises and he loves every second of the pampering. He turns into a pillow princess, perfectly pliable and at his boyfriend's mercy; we see that in their first love scene. I honestly think Rain really, really loves being under Payu, that's why he's always holding onto his neck and pulling him down. I think Rain enjoys how big Payu, he needs those broad shoulders to grip and scratch and keep him anchored.

He'll do and say anything Payu commands with ease if it means Payu will treat him like royalty as a reward. He loves being told, "You're doing so well Rain," and "Look at this cute boy, he's perfect for P'Payu." Especially if it's close to his ears. I'm sure Rain slips in a good, "P'Payu, you're the best for me." Anything to solidify how he was made for Payu and belongs next to him and Rain is a pile of goo in the man's hands every single time.

But what about when he's feeling rebellious and rambunctious and defiant? Sometimes Rain is in the mood to annoy his boyfriend and is more than willing to accept the consequences, eager even. I'm sure he's thrilled to find out how creative Payu gets with his punishments and explore his limits and then pushes them. Does Rainy Boy have a favorite punishment? Being bound? Edging? Spanking? No touching as he's being pleasured until he's babbling? No talking as he's being pleasured until he's crying?

Speaking of talking, Rain seems really talkative too. It's not a reach, the boy is a motor mouth in general. I think he finds that he likes Payu's responses to what he says. He knows exactly what to say to get a reaction from his man. He knows how to push his buttons like a phone operator. "P'Payu you're so deep, I can feel you in my soul." "P'Payu, I'm so full." "P'Payu fuck me" (which is everyone's personal favorite). He's not going to shy away from talking and it's just going to get more vulgar and less playful as they go on until he's not speaking in sentences anymore, just moaning Payu's name over and over...or better yet switching to call him 'Daddy'. Anything to make Payu lose his mind and find it at the same time.

I honestly think that once he gets more and more comfortable with being Payu's lover then he will challenge Payu's dominance more and more. It'll start off with little things like the riding and controlling the pace and holding Payu's hands down. He'll graduate to ordering Payu not to touch him. He'll soon have Payu begging to do things to him.

He could really have Payu on his knees before him if he worked hard enough to take the control. I think if Rain kept that level of respect with the way he speaks to Payu during these times then it could really work in his favor. I think if Rain tried to take control and also spoke improperly it would turn Payu off and Payu would turn everything back around since he's the true Dom in their relationship. But if Rain played his cards right he could very well be the one administering the punishments.

I honestly think that IF Rain truly wanted to, he could get Payu to bottom for him. He could. He really could.

Rain might not fully understand it, but he holds more power and persuasion than he thinks. Like he has some idea, but not enough to really flip the script just yet. The power balance between them really sits on a scale, it could teeter and totter to be in either man's favor. Rain could tip that scale if he truly wanted to put his mind to it.

[smile-files]

some great bluish bakeoff stuff!

nickel later apologizes this episode; it's prompted by balloon's confrontation, but clearly nickel was in the mindset to apologize. the fact that he didn't raise the issue himself shows how he's still really afraid of how balloon would react. at the same time, though, he's acknowledging that "standing up for what [is] right" is important and good, even if it doesn't necessarily have the most beneficial outcome; notice how this not only shows how he accepts and understands balloon's anger towards him over the past few episodes (which had the consequence of losing them the challenge and getting bot eliminated), but also suitcase's anger towards him in the latter half of ii2 (which had the consequence of destroying their alliance).

in this episode, blueberry is assuming a role that has previously been taken by nickel and, more recently, silver spoon: he has placed himself at the top of the pecking order, calling all the shots, forcing everyone to roll with his punches. now everyone's in the same position balloon has been for a lot of his time in ii. silver, in throwing the chariot (:nerd emoji: actually a litter, they use the wrong word) at blueberry, is taking a stand against him -- announcing his frustration from being treated poorly.

for the longest time, balloon had "stay[ed] away from the thorns": beating around the bush, not bringing up the hard stuff, so he could maintain his positive relationship with nickel (and by extension his sense of having actually changed, which is linked with that that relationship represents) and not face his inevitable aggressive snap-back. but, though these proverbial thorns are painful, touching them helps him actually move ahead of all of that discomfort. balloon took a stand against nickel recently, which he was justified in doing, expressing his anger at nickel for both what he did and his denial of doing it -- and nickel harshly bit back about what balloon had done a while ago. balloon touched the thorn, and got the pain.

now, when nickel is yet again dancing around the problem, balloon's frustration returns. and, as silver took a stand against blueberry (which nickel supported), balloon channels his frustration and takes his own stand: technically also against blueberry, in trying to get himself and the others to the challenge before blueberry (thereby denying the domination he has imposed), but the drive itself came from nickel. he knows touching the thorns is painful, but that it's important and good. he should stand up for himself, and he does. he literally pokes himself with a thorn, and that literally sends him and the others ahead.

for the sake of this analogy/symbolic framework, it's worth noting how they are pushed forward because of the thorn, but there's still baggage: they fly through the desert only to crash, losing all of their ingredients. at this point, though, balloon's not going to let the pain of the thorn prevent him from touching it. balloon will keep standing up for himself, even if he keeps facing setbacks and pushbacks, because he knows what he deserves.

you can imagine that when balloon confronted nickel in this episode, he was expecting the same old same old: he'd say what he's mad about, and nickel would shut him down. but he doesn't. nickel listens to him. nickel lets balloon be angry at him, lets himself face the guilt he needs to feel. balloon is able to be mad at nickel without their relationship automatically going up in flames like before. and balloon is shocked! but will he forgive nickel? what'll he say? ...well, they're taken by tyler bombard before balloon could say anything...

for all this talk of the thorn, where's the blossom? well, here it is. thematic parallels indeed! recall how balloon misunderstanding "flour" as "flower" contributed to the grand slams losing the cooking challenge in ii2, which likely added fuel to the fire of nickel's hatred towards him -- now that same flower and that same misunderstanding is a representation of their friendship: it is what remains after the pain of the thorn. balloon finding value in this meager flower and presenting it to mephone at all (thereby insisting that it has value) is what wins them all the challenge. the flower and its beauty are not just a reward for the pain of the thorn, but a product of that pain.

balloon still hasn't responded to nickel's apology, because he hasn't had the chance to... but in disputing tyler's happiness about blueberry's death, balloon both recognizes his own attempt to change as well as nickel's: attempting that change is also a thorn, a very painful one (it literally killed blueberry), and both nickel and balloon have recognized the changes the other has tried to make and has succeeded in making. nickel is very reassured by this.

and as a final flower, a final reward for balloon's persistence in standing up for himself and what he believes in, balloon is chosen as the sole recipient of the immunity cookie -- silver spoon, someone with both a history of selfishness and a history of putting others below him, is the one to make this decision. balloon is finally being recognized, genuinely, for the changes he's made.

notably, balloon never accepts nickel's apology: no, he accepts that nickel is trying to make up for what he did. and, knowing from personal experience how hard it is to make that change and be acknowledged for making it, balloon is there to support him through it, and help him realize that he can be better -- and balloon is still on that "trek" himself, as we know balloon still has a lot of flaws to work through. they both know they have to touch the thorn, but they're all the more motivated to do so because they have a beautiful flower as well:

their genuine friendship.

...

balloon continues to be very charitable with blueberry, even as blueberry is critical of himself. nickel is also charitable -- telling blueberry to "just be nicer to people" implies that he believes that such a change is possible -- though of course he expresses this in his typical snarky way.

blueberry, though, doesn't believe that he can change, just like nickel used to. no matter how much balloon and nickel believe in him, he himself has to realize he has the capacity to improve before he can actually do it.

[proverbsss]

delicacies (john tyler x reader) -suggestive/nsfw

John Tyler, Tell Me Your Secrets

prompt(s) + synopsis : "be naked when i get home” and “you’re not allowed to come until i say so” [from this post] // reader is John's private chef while he's living under an alias

anon: I hope you enjoy this :D I do apologize for the cliffhanger.........but I don't know when this will be continued.

notifs: john tyler's a bad man (we know), john disrupts reader's communication (phone), after time skip reader is restrained ; this is purely hamish thirst and headcanoned as cnc, please consume safely!

3:30PM •

“Mr. Wolfe, you’re too complimentary of me,” you’re saying, twisting John Wolfe’s landline phone cord around your finger and watching minced onions cook down in your saucepan.

“Well, anyone who can cook something that close to my Mom’s cheesy squash casserole…” he teases, “deserves a medal and a competitive pay raise.”

“You pay me fine,” you push back playfully, thinking of the thousand dollars he dropped for just three days of your cooking. Not for the first time, you dismiss the nagging sense that he had the money cold like that, and in cash. But you don’t have the luxury of being choosy about some long list of clientele. You threw–or even blew–all your money at two years of cooking school, and as nice as Mr. Fish of Finz’ Seafood is, he’s being a bit of a sluggish bastard about arranging for you to stage. “Before I forget, did you want a chocolate dessert, or a fruit tonight?”

“Oh, you have to give me all the hard choices–” he mock-complains.

“You are the boss.” You tease back. Yes, you wouldn’t mind an evening with him. Sucking down strawberries, playing coy when he flirts with you, melting into a soft, saccharine kiss–

“Fruit, please.” he pulls you out of your reverie with a jubilant decision.

“And it’ll just be you?” You kick yourself in the ankle.

“Just me and the finest private chef in this state.” He’s chuckling, you’re getting ready to say goodbye and add the dry white wine to your sauce francese, when his tone shifts a bit and he chuckles, “Just one more thing, Y/N?”

He can practically see your bright eyes get wide and ready to answer him.

“Be naked when I get home.”

Your breath stalls in your chest, the feeling of dropping from a height belts you in the stomach and you stutter, “What was that?”

“You heard me. I’ll see you tonight.”

He hangs up the phone. You stand stock-still in his kitchen, suddenly sure you’re being watched, being cornered. You grip the counter for balance and breath. Not ‘naked,’ surely? Be ‘ready’ when I get home. That doesn’t sound plausibly similar. ‘Make it when I get home,’

you’re prepping now, and he knows that because you told him. With that bottomless feeling in your stomach is a small quaking in your legs. Your boss of three days and counting. Asks you to sleep with him after you make him dinner. Are you safe here? Do you leave?

Mindlessly, you get the bottle of wine and splash your onions. They hiss happily in the pan. On second thought, you swig the Riesling back yourself to taste what the onions are so enthusiastic about.

‘Naked when I get home’ sounds better in John’s voice than it has any right to, playing over and over in your mind. Between finals and bills and moving out of your ex-friend’s shabby apartment with its glorious little kitchen, you haven’t had much time or energy for getting up to naughtiness with any partner to speak of. John’s nice. He’d probably fuck you nice.

He might also be weird and ask to drink this Riesling out of your well-padded collarbones or some other rich guy shit, but there are far worse fates. Through your initial apprehension, the warmth and seduction of a thought like bedding down the tall, dark, and charming man who employs you starts to seep into your imagination, and you sigh gently at the thought of his hands giving your body a much-needed going over.

Finish the sauce. Then figure out whether to finish him.

__________

• 4:30 PM •

Well, this looks silly. You take yourself in, in the mirror of his guest bathroom, trying to catch every angle, every unflattering position to avoid. Not naked, no. You don’t have quite the gumption for that. Which is ironic, considering you’re still entertaining the thought of being very, very naked with John later.

But you must acknowledge to yourself that you have prepared a godlike chicken francese with garlic mashed potatoes, left perfectly hot on the stove while you stripped down to your skivvies in order to serve them upon his arrival. And this wasn’t the plan at all getting dressed this morning, so a rust-colored bra with some cotton floral boyshorts is going to have to be the offering. And the apron. Lest we forget the tiny gingham apron.

You run a hand up your leg, peek at a particular curve of your ass. You must compliment your features where credit is due. Can a man possibly find this alluring? You envision yourself proceeding into his carpeted dining room with the baking dish of chicken francese in its lovely lemony sauce, and your legs and feet bare, your shoulders covered only by straps, the checkered apron folded and tied around your waist revealing a little bit of your midriff.

‘Be naked when I get home’ and you’ve dressed for a slightly risque slumber party. Has he done this before? Is that why he hired you so quickly when you catered the Whole Foods executives’ luncheon? This is stupid, you’re stupid, this isn’t safe, when have you ever been so impulsive?

But when have you? How often have you craved more excitement, someone saying dirty words to you in dulcet tones, someone who will use more than five hasty minutes to make you feel good?

And if he’s bad in bed? That just serves you right.

You panic and fight the urge to gather up your chef coat, tank top, and slacks when you hear the front door open. “Y/N, I’m home!” John calls, joyfully. Still not the demeanor of someone giving you sexy orders over his home phone, or someone dangerous for that matter. Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe…

John knocks on the bathroom door. “Y/N? You okay?”

“Hh-Hi, yes, yes, I’m fine.” Think, dammit. And make up your mind. “Are you ready for dinner?”

“Starving.” You can just see his smile in your mind’s eye.

“The table’s set if you want to go sit. I’ll serve.”

“You spoil me,” he says. And is there the littlest bit of an edge to his voice, or do you imagine it? His footsteps fall away from the door, and presumably he takes his seat in the dining room. Your routine for the last two days.

What are you hoping for here? Because if he does take you up on this–avoiding the mirror, gah–offer, you’re going to have to be okay with his hands, maybe his tongue, maybe his dick a lot of places pretty quickly. This is real life. This is not a fantasy.

Fuck it. Mustering courage, you inhale and exhale, and crack the bathroom door open just to make sure he’s not in the hall. He isn’t. You tiptoe, looking down at your feet, wringing your hands, barely aware as you step into the kitchen where he’s–waiting for you. He’s in front of the door to the outside.

“You do spoil me,” John says, a foreign huskiness in his voice as he looks you over, shameless. “Look at you.”

You color nine shades of scarlet and can’t speak.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I wasn’t sure what I’d find when you came through that door. You almost followed directions,” He smirks to himself, “almost. Where’d you leave them?”

Your heart is hammering too loudly for you to process the question.

���Clothes, sweetie. Where’d you leave them?”

“Bathroom,” you get out, confused. Is he going to subject you to the embarrassment of putting them back on?

“They’ll stay there,” he promises, taking a step toward you. The shadow he casts is long, long. It’s getting later in the evening. Your chicken is eating temperature now, it could veer dangerously into cold territory soon. When prior to this have you so abandoned one of your food-babies? “Everything you wore today stays here and I’ll keep them.”

“My…coat…” you say, a little bit genuinely miffed. Dirty words are one thing, but that thing was several hundred dollars. To say nothing of its sentimental value. A crisp heavy cotton sign that even amid sacrifices, you’d made it. You’d begun.

“Maybe that. Maybe that and nothing else. When I let you go. If.”

“John?” This is somewhere between seduction and plain creepiness. You’re thinking about the door and how he’s between it and you. Reflexively you pat your lightly clad body for your cell phone, and John holds it out to you in one palm, battery in the other.

“You left it, silly.”The two of you make eye contact, almost like other times, his Cheshire cat smile painfully disarming. But this time his pretty mouth tightens at the corners, and a seriousness overtakes his features that you don’t necessarily like. And of course he’s holding your phone, until he isn’t. He drops the battery on the floor and stomps it till it breaks under his shoe. Now you’re ready to run.

“Um-what the fuck?”

“Language, please. Couldn’t bear thinking I’d made a mistake with you.”

It crosses your mind to yell for help, and as you open your mouth to do so John surrounds you. For a tall man, he’s terrifyingly fast on his feet and his hand over your mouth is like a vice. You can’t see, won’t realize till later but on a flat surface nearby or in his pocket is a chloroformed napkin–one of the dinner napkins you didn’t set–and the lure of chemical shuteye is pulling you into darkness, soft, sweet darkness…

______

• Nightfall •

A sheet, some satiny give underneath your drowsy body. Bed. You’re in bed.

“That’s why you’ll always find me in the kitchen at parties/

You will always find me in the kitchen at parties–

Bum, buh–”

Not your bed.

You’re on your stomach. It tickles where a rumple in the bedsheet meets your ankle. You drag your ankle back and forth over it in a soothing repetition. Someone or something has a hold of it so it doesn’t go very far, somehow reminiscent of the sensation in dreams of opening your mouth to talk or scream only to have nothing come out. The movement you think you’re making might be so small in real life that it’s imperceptible.

Your awareness wobbles and flickers as you take in the haze of new stimulus. Someone is singing.

“Me and my girlfriend we argued/

And she ran away from home/

She must’ve found somebody new/

And now I’m all alone.

Dun-buh-buh-

Living on my own…”

The bed creaks somewhere near to you and you feel new weight alongside one of your arms, which is extended, and a little sore. And doesn’t give when you try to tug it.

John perceives you moving around and immediately acts to get a better vantage point on you.

“Hey, good girl. Good girl. Nice to see you.”

[chickensarentcheap]

In a Heartbeat- Chapter Five

Fandom: Extraction

PAIRING: TYLER RAKE AND ESME DRUMMOND (ESTABLISHED OFC)

SUMMARY:  Dhaka nearly ended everything before it even began.  In it’s aftermath and with Tyler’s life teetering on the threshold between life and death, Esme is about to realize just how strong she can be.  And that love happens when it happens. There’s no rules. No rhyme or reason. No timeline.  

Warnings: brief mention of sex toys and kinks (butt plugs, dildos, pegging. But not in the way you think lol)

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @munstysmind @themaradwrites @ninjasawakenedmystar @thebejeweledwatercat @alisbackalleybbq @theesirenteller @karimac @kmc1989 @asirensrage @residentdormouse @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciation @occommunity

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48691714/chapters/129441475

My tag list is OPEN. Please just ask to be added if you'd like :D

****

“Okay…” Slipping off his coat, Tyler surveys his surroundings, greeting a waiting and ecstatic Lucy with a vigorous rub of the head. “...now it’s all starting to make sense.”

Esme sets both the wheeled suitcase and duffle bag by the door, then drops her hobo-style handbag on the kitchen table. “What’s making sense?”

“Why none of those pictures from the ‘net showed the inside of this place.”

Shrugging out of her jacket, she removes her beanie and tosses both aside; shaking out her long, dark tresses before placing her hands on her hips and surveying their surroundings. “It’s not THAT bad. It’s quaint. Cozy. Cute.”

“You realize that’s wood panelling on the walls, yeah?”

“Okay, so it kind of reminds me of my grandparents’ basement. Which they haven’t remodelled since the early seventies. But I’ve seen worse. I’ve LIVED in worse.”

“Is this where you tell me about your time in some rat-infested dump in New York City?”

“New York isn’t as horrible as you make it out to be. I would have given up an organ, even a limb, to land something right in the city. A walk-up apartment in an old brownstone. That was always my dream. To have a cute little place like Carrie Bradshaw’s.”

“Who?”

“Carrie Bradshaw. The main character in Sex and the City? Played by Sarah Jessica Parker? She’s married to Matthew Broderick? You know, the guy who was Ferris Bueller?”

“I have no goddamn clue who any of these people are.”

“You’ve never heard of Sex and the City? Have you been living in a cave? Cooking over an open fire? Throwing random women over your shoulder and carrying them back for sexy time?”

Smirking, he removes his beanie. “That’s how I landed you, wasn’t it?”

“You landed me with your pretty blue eyes and your sexy voice and your big dick.”

“You’re nothing if not honest.”

“Carrie is a writer,” Esme continues, holding the back of a kitchen chair to keep it steady as he lowers himself into it. “She writes about relationships and sex and life in the Big Apple. And she’s got her little posse; Miranda, the fiercely independent lawyer, Charlotte the die-hard romantic, longing to find true love, Samantha the big-time slut who loves men just a little too much. She was my favourite, by the way.”

“Makes sense. What’s that saying? Something about birds of a feather flocking together?”

She scowls. “Well, that’s just plain rude.”

“If you ask me, the show sounds like it’s for girls.”

“Plenty of men loved it. Mostly gay men, but…” Retreating to the middle of the living room, she places a hand on her hip, eyes narrowing as she taps the tip of her index against her lips.. “...I see the potential here. It’s not a lost cause. And it’s definitely not hideous. It’s just…”

“It’s ugly, and you know it.”

“Dated. It’s dated.”

“It’s not a person. You can say what you really feel. You can’t hurt its feelings.”

“I thought you, of all people, would love something like this. This is a five-star resort compared to where you were living when I met you.”

“I’ll have you know that I built that place myself. By hand.”

“And I’m extremely proud of you, and I find it very sexy when a man is great with his hands. In all the best possible ways. But babe, you had no interior walls, most of your windows didn’t close properly, and you had chickens as roommates. Believe me, this is a step up.”

“So what you’re saying is that it’s a ‘no’ to chickens in the house. Kinda ruins my plans.”

“As much as I’d rather NOT be constantly picking up their shit, I’ll deal. Only because I know how much you love the mangey little bastards. But they are NOT sleeping in bed with us.”

“What about night’s you’re not here?”

“It’s unlikely we’ll encounter nights like those, but IF it happens? You better make sure you change the damn sheets before I get home. You totally slept with your chickens before you met me, didn’t you. You totally let them in the bed.”

“Once in a while.”

“So which one of you was the little spoon? Or did you alternate every second night?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a really smart mouth?”

“No. But I have been told how extremely talented it is.”

“That I CAN’T argue with. I definitely have no complaints.”

“Even if you did, I wouldn’t listen to them. So…” Tugging playfully on his ears, she lays a hand on the nape of his neck and steps around to the side of the chair. “...what do you think? About this place? I know it isn’t as bougie as you’re used to, but…”

Reaching under the bottom of her shirt, he hooks a finger in one of the belt loops on her jeans and pulls her down onto his left thigh. “It’s tolerable. For now.” Pressing a kiss to her shoulder, his hand moves to her stomach, calloused palm flat against warm, smooth skin. “Until we’re able to get around to doing stuff.”

“Nik says it’s all ours. We can do whatever we want with it. I know it’s not going to be a permanent place for us, but…”

“I mean, it could be. If that’s what you wanted.”

“I just assumed you’d want to go home. That we’d end up in Australia.”

“We can end up wherever you want. I have no ties to ANY place. Just say where you want to go, and that’s where we’ll head.”

“It’s definitely something we’ll have to talk about. I can’t really decide something like THAT all on my own. You need to have a say in it, too. It’s not just me that deserves to be happy.”

“I’m happy as long as you are. Just say where you want to go. We’ll go.”

“As cute and sappy as that is…”

“You did NOT just use the c and the s word to describe me. In the SAME sentence.”

“...we both know it doesn’t work that way. That if you just follow me somewhere with no say, things would not end well. So we’ll talk about it. When we’re ready to make a decision like that. Sound good?”

“Whatever you say.”

“Goddamn, you’re difficult.”

“I thought I was being pretty easy and reasonable. What more do you want from me?”

“We both need to do a lot of work when it comes to being in a relationship.”

“Please don’t suggest therapy. I’ve had enough therapy in the past two months to last me a lifetime.”

“No therapy. I might get you to read some self-help books or listen to some podcasts…”

“Get off me.”

“That’s a request you usually don’t make,” she quips, then laughs and tightens her hold on him when he attempts to push her off his lap. “Baby, you’re so cute. Even when you’re being a grumpy shit.”

He smirks. “Fuck off, Esme.”

“You need a nap.” Placing a kiss on his temple, she affectionately tousles his hair and stands. “Or something to eat. Maybe both. Are you hangry, Tyler James? Are you hangry and sweepy?”

“Yes.”

“I’m just going to take a quick look around and then make us something to eat. And you’ve got meds to take. You’re due.”

“I’m fine.”

“You know what the doctor said. About making sure you keep on schedule. If you don’t do that…”

“The pain will really set in, and it’ll be harder to get rid of it. I was there. I heard him.”

“Then quit being so difficult. You don’t need to be an insufferable asshole twenty-four-seven.”

“Yes, I do. I have a reputation to keep.”

“Believe me, your reputation isn’t going anywhere. Not everyone can survive what you did. I think you cemented your legend status.”

“By the way, how does that make you feel about things?”

She pauses in the doorway of the spare bedroom. “What things?”

“Life, in general. Knowing you’re spending your life fucking a legend.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know, would I? Considering I haven’t fucked him since he got the title.”

With a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, he snatches the discarded beanie from the middle of the table. “You can be a real bitch, you know that?”

“Now THAT I do know.” She laughs as she effortlessly dodges the hat thrown in her direction. “Give me a few minutes, and then I’ll make something to eat. You won’t starve in the meantime.”

“You’re actually going to subject me to your cooking the first day in?”

Scowling, she disappears into the second bedroom. Several seconds passing before just her hand appears in the doorway in order to flip him the middle finger.

His fingers alternate between slipping through Lucy’s short, smooth fur and scratching her favourite spot directly under her chin. Listening as Esme’s feet -clad in thick, mismatched woollen socks move over the weathered and creaking floorboards. Hearing intermittent soft clicking and the sliding of wood against wood as she inspects dresser and nightstand drawers. And when it finally falls silent, he calls out to her. “Anything interesting?”

“Whoever lived here before us were total freaks! I just found a whole load of gigantic dildos in the bedside table! And one of those harnesses a woman wears. You know, when she does her man up the…”

“Esme…”

“I don’t see any lube though. I guess we’re not trying pegging tonight.”

“Don’t even THINK about it.”

“What would you say if I came to bed and had a butt plug in with a raccoon’s tail hanging off it?”

“I’d call you a freak and kick you out onto the couch.”

She gives a disgruntled, dramatic huff, then appears in the doorway. “You’re boring.”

“You certainly weren’t saying that two nights ago when we almost got caught by the night nurse. While you were giving me…”

“Like, no pegging with giant dildos and no raccoon tail butt plugs? I swear, a girl can’t have ANY fun.”

“If that’s your idea of fun, you’ve got the wrong guy.”

“Don’t worry, big boy.” She shoots him a wink as she pads through the small, open-concept living room and kitchen. “There’s nothing to be scared of. I’ll be gentle with you.”

“You even come near me with one of those things…”

“I was joking. I didn’t find a damn thing. Which is incredibly disappointing. I was hoping some eccentric weirdo lived here before and left some wild shit behind.”

“Have you looked around this place? The panelling? Fucking knick-knacks all over the place? A goddamn deer head on the wall? Does any of that scream eccentric weirdo do you?”

“It could have been to throw off visitors. Convince innocent, unsuspecting people that they were completely normal. You know, so they could drug their coffee and tea in order to knock them out and hide them in their sex dungeon!”

“I think it’s safe to say that no one normal lives here NOW. Well, one of us might be considered somewhat sane.”

“Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me. I won’t tell anyone you’re a psycho.”

She opens the door to the main bathroom and pokes her head inside. Fingernails tapping against the wall as she makes approving noises and comments about the brand new shower, tub, sink, and toilet. Then proceeds to curse and grumble about having to DEFINITELY change the flooring and the colour of the walls.

“I think we both know I’m the only somewhat normal one around here.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” She moves to the master bedroom, mere seconds passing before she gives a loud gasp. “Oh my god….TYLER!”

“Let me guess, you found the sex dungeon.”

“Even better!” She appears in the doorway, eyes sparkling and dancing as she gives an excited squeal and bounces up and down on her heels. “It’s bigger than I expected!”

“Didn’t you say those exact words in Dhaka? The first time I dropped my pants?”

“I was pleasantly surprised. That you exceeded even MY lofty expectations.”

“What did you find? I swear if it’s anything remotely related to me taking something up the ass…”

“Nothing like that! You need to see it! It’s enormous!”

“You don’t have another guy stashed in there, do you?”

“I can barely handle the one I already have. Why would I want the extra stress? Seriously, come and see this.”

“I know what a bedroom looks like.”

“It’s not just the room that’s bigger and better than I thought it would be! It’s the bed! It takes up so much space, and there’s still lots of room to spare. Please just come and take a look? Because I asked so nicely? Pretty please? I know how much you love to make me happy.”

“For someone so tiny, you’re an enormous pain in my ass,” he grumbles, yet shoots her a wink. A hand on the table top as he slowly pushes himself up onto his feet; fighting back a wince as even the most careful of movements bring almost unbearable agony. Too much time spent on his ass during the flight and the long drive from Vienna to the cabin; his knee feeling tight and swollen and in desperate need of relief.

“As soon as we eat, you put your leg up,” Esme informs him, as he joins her in the doorway. “It’s not good to go this long without elevating it. And you WILL take your meds.”

“While I’d normally argue with you and tell you I’m fine…”

“That’s how I know it’s bad. You’re NOT giving me a hard time.”

“I’ll be okay. Just he assures her, and places a hand on the back of her neck, his lips meeting her temple as his fingers massage the stiff, tight muscles. “Just need to rest it.”

For months she’s held onto an enormous amount of stress and tension; those long, trying days and nights spent at his bedside, fighting back against the doctors who had already declared him a lost cause and wanted to just pull the plug. But she’d held on there despite the pressure dumped upon her, digging her heels in even further and refusing to break to their demands. They weren’t using him as a sacrifice to the healthcare system Gods; they’d have to find another way to ‘free up a bed’.

“She’s going to break sooner or later,” Nik had warned him just days before his release. “She’s been shouldering all of this for three quarters of a year. I’ve been around some very tough people, but none as tough as THAT. She can’t keep it up, Tyler. She just can’t. We all break at one point or another. And when her time comes, you’re going to have to be there for her. Because she’ll need you. So you better be sure that you’ll step up.”

One of her tiny hands falls on the small of his back as he sticks his head into the master. “What do you think? It’s huge, right?”

“Definitely bigger than I expected. The room AND the bed.”

She playfully smacks his ass, grinning up at him as she tightly squeezes a cheek through the fabric of his pants. “You know how much I love a large playground.”

“Speaking of playtime, when do I get my surprise?”

“Patience is a virtue, old fella.”

“For who?”

“The virtuous, I guess. Besides, I thought you were hungry. And tired. And sore.”

“I am. I’m all three of those. But…” He hastily removes the sling from his left arm, tearing open the velcro fasteners and tossing the object onto the dresser. Not giving her a chance to respond, he grabs hold of her hips and uses his much larger, heavier frame to propel her backwards into the room.

“We’re really going to give it a go, are we? Right this second?”

“No time like the present. I’ve been wanting to give it a go since we left the hospital. Even BEFORE that. I was going to say something on the plane; about joining the mile-high club, but…”

“Been there, done that.”

He frowns, pausing as he leans in to kiss her, their lips a hair’s width apart.

“You’re not the only one with a past, Tyler Rake.”

“Did he teach you anything good?”

“He taught me a few things.” Her hands slide up the front of his henley shirt, chestnut eyes locked on brilliant blue as she softly drags the nails of her index across his stomach. Beginning their lazy journey at his belt buckle and finally finishing at each of his hips. “Who do you think is responsible for this mouth being so talented?”

“As much as I hate even thinking about you with other guys, I want his name and address. So I can send him a thank you card. And a case of beer. You know, just a small token of gratitude.”

“And seeing as he didn’t give a shit about what I needed to feel good, I figured I’d let you teach me the rest.”

“I’m honoured.”

“You should be. I’ve already let you go where no man has ever dared to go before.”

“Only because you asked me if I would. Can’t believe it only took two days.”

“What can I say…” She catches him off guard by pushing him backwards, pinning him between her body and the dresser as she aggressively yanks open his belt. “...you have that effect on me.”

“I realize I’m still hurting, and I got a long way to go, but don’t think for a second you get to be the boss. It doesn’t work that way.”

“Who are you kidding?” She pops open the button on his pants. “I’m always the boss.”

Smirking, he snatches her by the throat, fingers lightly pressing into the soft, delicate flesh as he pushes her towards the bed. And she gives a gasp of surprise when the back of her knees hit the edge of the mattress, giggling when she loses her balance and topples backwards.

She pushes herself up onto her elbows. a slow grin spreading from ear to ear as she watches him quickly dispose of both knee brace and pants and hastily toss them into the nearest corner. “No underwear, huh? You WERE hopeful.”

“Easy access. For both of us.”

“Even in this weather. I’m surprised your balls didn’t freeze off. That would have been a goddamn Greek tragedy.”

“They’re still a little. If you can warm them up. It’ll keep you quiet for a while.”

“Kinky.” She laughs when he grabs hold of the bottom of her jeans; falling backward when he aggressively pulls her towards him. “You ARE eager.”

“Things are working. You said yourself, it’s been hit or miss. Well, right now it's a hit, so…” He yanks both the denim and her skimpy lace underwear over her hips and ass and down her legs. “...let’s not waste time. Just in case.”

“Aren’t you even going to wait? For me to get your surprise on?”

“Nope.” He shoves her thighs open. “Right now, I don’t care. We’ll do that later.”

“Two times in one day? Someone is feeling awful cocky.”

“It’s my cock that’s feeling something. Don’t worry, you’ll be feeling it soon too.”

She opens her mouth to respond but quickly bites down on the bottom lip as he makes his way up her body; a mixture of calloused palms, the roughness of his beard, and the press of warm, soft lips. Thick fingers -with their various scars and misshapen knuckles- digging into the back of her thighs as he licks, sucks, and nibbles his way along the insides of her legs. And though disappointed when he ignores the most desperate and aching of parts, she still manages a giggle when he pulls her surgical steel navel ring into his mouth and lightly yanks at it with his teeth.

No one has ever worshipped her the way he does. The attention and focus he displays while paying homage to her body; the fire in her very bones and nerves growing in intensity with every swipe of his tongue and suckle of his lips and every caress and group of her hands. Selfless and never selfish, even when his own wants and needs are profound and overwhelming. Forever paying keen attention to the way she responds to him. Learning through every sigh and moan, every flinch and shiver, the differences in tone and pitch when she says his name. And somehow always knowing exactly what she needs.

By the time he reaches her lips, she’s desperate for so much more, nails raking across his shoulders and down his back, hips continuously rising to meet his in an unspoken request. When he finally kisses her, she moans into his mouth, and her hands find his hair; her fingers immediately tunnelling through the longer strands as she responds eagerly and hungrily. But when he pulls away to look down at her, there’s a tenderness in his eyes that she isn’t prepared for. An affection and adoration that softens his features and enables her to truly ‘see’ him for the first time. And suddenly, he seems far removed from the hardened and highly skilled mercenary that she had initially fallen in love with. Instead replaced by a previously broken and haunted man who’s in the midst of the most important transformation of his entire life.

The healing of both body AND mind.

“I love you.”

It brings tears to her eyes. The sincerity in those three simple, yet powerful words.

“More than you’ll ever know.”

The sob escapes her before she has the chance to bite it back, and she quickly finds herself gathered into strong arms and a broad chest. His body is warm and hard against hers, and his hands are steady yet comforting as they lovingly stroke her hair and repeatedly caress her back.

It’s all so foreign and overwhelming. Completely unlike anything she’s ever known or experienced. He’s reliable. Protective. Making her feel safe and secure in ways no one else ever has.

And in that moment, she’s sure of one thing. She’s never been loved like this, either.

*****

He feels sleepy and content as he lounges on the couch; his bad leg -once more sporting the knee brace- stretched out, foot resting on the coffee table. Both body and mind sated by a successful -if not disappointingly short- love making session that ended up more slow and tender than he’d originally anticipated. It had been followed by a hot shower and a surprisingly good meal that Esme had been incredibly proud of; a simple pasta and meat sauce dish paired with salad and garlic toast. Now he alternates between watching football and listening to his girlfriend as she busies herself in the kitchen. Lucy refusing to leave her side; more than pleased with the morsels of food she’d been slipped under the table. And with the seemingly endless amount of ear rubs and hair ruffles and chin scratches that are passed her way.

It’s the most relaxed he’s been in years. The warmth of the fire as snow trickles down outside, the rattling of dishes and silverware, and the way Esme alternates between humming as she works and talking to Lucy in a quiet, motherly way. The fear is starting to fade; the realization setting in that not only this is his life now, but he’s good with it. Not entirely accepting of the fact he’s retired; remaining somewhat concerned about where he goes -professional speaking- from here. But he feels safe and secure in the knowledge that knowing that Esme is under the same roof. Wanting and needing him. Loving him.

“I don’t have anything else, my love,” Esme addresses the dog sprawled out at her feet. “At least none of what you really want. Do you want a cookie? Auntie Nik got them just for you. I bet they’re delicious. Let’s get you a cookie.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees her move across the room, her hair still loose and flowing and nearly reaching the middle of her back. Her tiny frame clad in a pair of simple black leggings and one of the plaid shirts she’d poached from his side of the closet. And he finds himself amused by the way she has to stand on her tiptoes to get the container of dog biscuits off the second shelf in the cupboard.

“Tyler…”

“Yeah?”

“This d…o…g won’t stop eating.”

“Why did you spell that out?”

“Because I don’t want her to know I’m talking about her. It might give her a complex.”

“Your logic is…astounding.”

“Even animals have feelings. I mean, you’re the biggest one of all, and you’ve been all up in your feels lately.”

“Esme?”

She glances towards him.

Without looking away from the television, he holds up his right hand and flips her the middle finger.

“Well, that’s just rude, isn’t it Lucy? Just plain rude.”

“She’s a traitor. That’s your dog now. She’s made that perfectly clear. Hasn’t left your side since before dinner.”

“Well, if we want to get technical, she’s OUR dog now. But I’m sure she still loves you best. Daddy’s still your favourite, isn’t he? You could never love anyone the way you love him. I’ll let you in on a little secret; I feel the exact same way about him.”

He smiles. “You BOTH have horrible taste in men.”

“Excuse you? I’ll have you know that my taste in me is impeccable. Well, at least NOW it is. I didn’t have to kiss too many frogs before I got to my prince, but the ones I DID have to kiss? Ewwww.” Giving Lucy a final pet, she fills the kettle and plugs in it, completing her tidying of the kitchen and then making a coffee for him, a tea for herself. Starting her journey into the living room, she pauses by the front door; spotting the small cardboard box he’d set down earlier. “What’s this?”

He casts a glance in her direction. “Just some stuff from my old place. That Nik and Yaz packed up.”

“That’s all they brought?”

“That and some clothes.”

“Where’s the rest?”

“What rest? You saw my old place. What more was there for them to bring?”

“What’s in it?”

“Just some personal shit. From back in the day. Nothing you need to worry yourself with.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s really none of my business. I shouldn’t have even asked. It’s really none of my business.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Fuck. He really needs to pay more attention to the tone of his voice when speaking to her. He’s always been straight to the point; never dragging things out or sugar coating them. While it had suited him well in both military and mercenary life and had, it had unfortunately been one of the many issues that eventually sunk his marriage. Esme deserves better; she’s sensitive and feels and loves so deeply and profoundly. And, like her need to give and want affection, it’s yet another thing he needs to get used to. “I just meant that it’s nothing serious. I’d tell you if it was.”

She doesn’t pursue it. Either not as hurt at his reaction as he had thought she would be, or just deciding to pick her battles. But she greets him with a smile when she joins him, setting their mugs down on the coffee table and then accepting the hand he offers her and dropping down beside her.

Releasing her hand, he wraps his arm around her, he pulls her tightly against him, his hand resting on her hip as he presses a kiss to her temple. She smells so damn good; that mixture of coconut, honey, and milk that he’d first discovered in Dhaka and had been so enthralled. It’s simple and unassuming; a cheap shampoo that she’d found in a corner store in Prague just hours before Nik had brought her to Australia. And she’d been so taken aback by his genuine compliments about the scent, that she’d decided never to use anything else.

“I’m sorry.”

She reaches for the coffee and hands it to them, then picks up her tea. “For what?”

“I honestly didn’t mean it the way it sounded. When you asked about the box. It’s not it’s not your business. It’s just…” Shrugging, he sips at his drink. “...nothing you’d be interested in. Or at least, I don’t think you’d be.”

“I’m interested in YOU. In your life. Especially the one that came before me. I know it wasn’t a utopia by any stretch of the imagination, and you’ve been through some shit, but if you ever WANT to share, I’m good with it.”

“Same goes for you, yeah? If you ever just want to tell me about things? I don’t want you holding back because you think it’s going to piss me off. Even if hearing about your ex and the shit he did might make me feel homicidal.”

“And he’d deserve it. If you got a hold of him and broke every bone in his body.”

“I wouldn’t just stop there. I wouldn’t be able to. And a lot of places to stash him afterwards. Where no one would ever find him.”

“As much as I appreciate and love you for wanting to avenge me, I also don’t want to bring him into this. Into our life together. I don’t want him tarnishing things. Ruining them.”

“He could never do that.”

“Just some things really are better left in the past. Some of the things he did…” She chews on her bottom lip, choosing her words carefully. “...I just can’t talk about those. And that’s not a personal slight against you. It’s not because I feel like I CAN’T you. It has nothing to do with you.”

“I know. But if you ever DO want to talk about things…”

“Believe, you’d be the first person…the ONLY person…I’d ever go to. I trust Nik and Yaz, but not in the same way I trust you. Does that make sense?”

“It does. I feel the same way about you.”

“You’re my person, Tyler. You’re the one I want to tell things to. Good AND bad. You’re the one I want to share things with. Whether it’s horror stories about my ex or stupid jokes that I’ve gathered up over the years, or things I hear or see when I’m out. I don’t feel that comfortable with anyone else. Not like I do with you.”

“Do you think maybe it has something to do with the fact I’m the one you get naked and do filthy fucking things with?”

“That could play a role,” she laughs, and presses a lingering kiss to his cheek.

They settle into a comfortable, companionable silence, Lucy joining them and lying on the floor in front of the couch; watching the football game as they nurse their drinks, enjoying the warmth from the fire. He realizes that they’re in the midst of the ‘honeymoon phase’; everything seems to flow and co-exist so easily. Able to shut themselves away from the outside world; refusing to allow intrusive thoughts to penetrate the bubble they’ve built around themselves. They’re happy and comfortable; immersed in the ‘getting to know you stage’ outside of the intimate moments. Learning about each other’s likes and dislikes, their respective quirks and habits. It won’t always be this way. The charm will wear off; they’ll become easily annoyed and agitated as they both attempt to get used to sharing not only their space but their life, with another person.

When their mugs are empty, she places them on the coffee table and then stretches out on the couch. On her side with both arms wrapped around his thigh and her head in his lap.

“Is your team playing?”

His hand settles on her hip. “Yeah. The Western Bulldogs. They’re the ones with the red and blue shirts.”

“Are they winning?”

“By a pretty big margin, actually.”

“This doesn’t look like regular football. It’s nothing like the NFL. These guys are out there just killing each other. And as much as enjoy senseless violence from time to time…”

“This is Australian rules. Nothing like what you’re used to. This is the real deal. Not that wimpy crap they play where you’re from.”

“If we’re able to get sports from Australia, we might be able to get some hockey games. That would be nice. We could watch them together.”

“I don’t like hockey.”

“Have you ever seen a hockey game?”

“Once. That was enough.”

“Tell you what…” She rolls over onto her back “...if you’ll watch some hockey games and learn a bit about it, I’ll do the same with you and your football. Deal?”

“I suppose I could agree to that.”

“You’re going to have to teach me the rules, though. I know nothing about football. ANY kind of football.”

“Shouldn’t be hard. You’ve already proven to be a pretty fast learner in other areas. I’m impressed with you.”

“Well, you happen to be an excellent teacher. Although I do have one complaint.”

Tyler frowns.

“Things worked so well, I am aching. I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk properly for a couple of days.”

“Just a couple? I’m insulted.”

“Next time, the number will be higher, I promise.”

“I may have been a little….hasty…when it came to going from start to finish.”

“It lasted longer than I thought it would, to be honest.”

“Excuse you?”

“I didn’t mean that as a cheap shot. And I’m already very familiar with your skills and your staying power. But think of everything you just went through; you were clinically dead nine months ago, AND you just spent three quarters of a year in the hospital. I know we’ve gotten up to other things, but we haven’t actually done THAT. Given the circumstances, you not lasting that long is to be expected.”

“I don’t know if any of your little speech made me feel any better. It’s embarrassing. I’m thirty-five years old and…”

“You’re thirty-six now. You had a birthday in the midst of everything.”

“That’s it, just go and make things worse. Add another year onto my life.”

“Listen…” Reaching up, she takes hold of his chin. “...there is nothing to be embarrassed about. Do you realize how close you were? To being six feet under? You shouldn’t even be here. A weaker man? They would have given up. They wouldn’t have fought their way back. And if one of the setbacks to surviving all that is to not last as long as you usually do, I’d say that’s pretty damn good.”

“I’ve lasted longer than since I was fifteen years old.”

“And you’ll go back lasting longer again. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Did I have a problem with it?”

“Not that I could tell. Or that you’re admitting.”

“I have absolutely zero complaints. Except for the whole not being able to walk or sit properly thing. You need to realize that things aren’t going to be like they were. Not for a while, anyway. You’ve come a long way and there’s an even longer way to go. Can’t you just be proud of yourself? For even getting out of that hospital?”

“I only did it for you. You’re the only reason I fought my way back. Why I busted my ass to get back on my feet. If you hadn’t been around…”

“But I WAS. I was there because I wanted to be. Because I knew you had a lot of fight left in you. And I know you’re tired and frustrated, and you think you should be further ahead, but you’re doing way better than anyone ever expected.”

“You expected it. You didn’t give up.”

“I know how strong you are. And I know you in ways all those other people don’t. Even Nik. I wasn’t abandoning you, Tyler. And I would have fought to the bitter end. Until there was some proof you weren’t going to come out of it. So THIS? This whole not lasting as long as normal? It’s actually a huge accomplishment, considering. Think of it that way.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“How do you always find the silver lining in everything? The glass is always half full to you. How…?”

“Because I know what I’ve survived. Not even my worst days come close to what Mark put me through. So guess I’ve just tried to turn my suffering into something positive. I’ve learned to look at the world in a different way.”

“Personally, I think you’re just some kind of freak.”

Scowling, she flicks the tip of his nose with her thumb and forefinger.

“I love you, though. As weird as you are.”

“Admit it, my weirdness was one of the things you found adorable and appealing.”

“No, actually. It wasn’t. I’ve just learned to accept it and live with it.”

“Well, for what it’s worth? I love YOU. You enormously stubborn pain in my ass.”

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve it, but…”

“Did I say it was up for debate? Did I say you could question things? No. So just…” She places a hand over his mouth. “...shhhh. Stop asking why and stop doubting what you’re worthy of, and just go with it. Can you do that? Just accept it and go with it?”

“I can try.”

“You better,” she warns and then turns her face towards him, her nose pressing into his stomach and her eyes closing. The events of the morning and afternoon quickly catching up to her: the relief that came with finally leaving the hospital, the long flight that had followed, and the drive to the cabin that represented the last leg of their trip to freedom. And then the sex; that effortless transition from hungry, desperate, and impatient to something much more tender and attentive.

Now she’s finally able to relish in the aftermath. Enjoying the hardness of his body and that warmth that radiates from it, his familiar smell and the beat of his heart deep within. Issuing a long, content sigh when one of those enormous, calloused hands is placed upon her cheek; his fingertips softly stroking her forehead while his thumb makes continuous sweeps across her cheek. And just as she begins to feel herself teetering on the edge of sleep, she feels him move against her; the slight shift of his body and the couch cushions as he reaches for the throw on the back of the couch and proceeds to drape it over her. What follows is such a simple, sweet display of care and adoration. A smile playing on her lips as this man -so big and so strong and capable of inflicting so much harm- ever so tenderly tucks and secures the fabric under and around her.

From that moment, she loses all track of time. The stroking of her cheek eventually ceases; his arm becomes limp, and his hand comes to rest upon her hip as sleep finally claims him. His soft snoring and deep rhythmic breathing joining the rattling of the windows as the wind and the snow continue to rage beyond the cabin’s four walls.

*****

When she wakes, it’s to the crackle of the fire and Lucy’s loud snoring, the cattle dog somehow managing to find enough space on the sofa. Rolling onto her back, she gives a loud yawn and a long, languorous stretch. Rapidly blinking her eyes when she’s greeted by the unexpected glow of the couch side lamp.

She watches Tyler in silence. Still in the same spot as when she’d fallen asleep, his eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed as he devotes his focus and attention to a game on his cell phone. And it isn’t until she lightly tickles his stomach that he acknowledges her, greeting her with a soft smile as he uses gentle fingertips to clear strands away off her forehead and out of her eyes.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Sleep alright?”

Esme nods. “Guess I was just way too warm and cozy. Did you?”

“It was an okay nap. I kinda freaked out a bit, though. When I woke up. I didn’t even remember coming here. I thought I was still in the hospital. So when I didn’t recognize anything…”

“You spent three-quarters of a year there. I’d be surprised if you didn’t have moments like that. Eventually, they’ll go away. Once you get used to being here.”

“Once I realized that you, were YOU, I was alright. I knew I was in a safe place. That everything was going to be okay.”

It’s so sincere and genuine….so unexpected… that it causes a lump of emotion to sit square in her throat. She’s never known anyone quite like him, the strong, silent type that usually doesn’t have much to say, but makes an enormous impact when he does speak. He hides nothing from her. Open and transparent from the beginning of those five days in Dhaka, not just with words, but with facial expressions and body language. Both of them -despite their painful pasts and respective, albeit different, losses- somehow finding a level of trust in one another that neither had experienced before.

“Are you alright?”

Nodding, he tosses his phone onto the coffee table. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re feeling okay? You’ve had enough to eat? You don’t have too much pain? You…”

“Are you really going to do this as soon as you get up? Start worrying?”

“I can’t help it. I’m a worrier. It’s who I am. You should be used to it by now.”

“There’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m fine. I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”

Her eyes narrow. “Would you?”

“I’ve already promised I would. About a million times already. I’m fine, Esme. I mean, other than the fact my left leg and my ass are completely asleep.”

“You could have gotten up, you know.” She attempts to sit up, laughing when a broad, strong forearm prevents her. “You didn’t have to stay here. You could have moved me.”

“I didn’t have the heart to do it. You looked way too cute, lying there like that. You snore, by the way.”

“I most certainly do not.”

“You do. You snore AND talk in your sleep.”

“Did I say anything interesting?”

“You didn’t incriminate yourself in any crimes if that’s what you mean. You did make a grocery list, though. Toilet paper, milk, ketchup, and cat litter.”

“Bullshit. You’re making that up.”

“I’m telling the truth. Scouts honour.”

“You were NEVER a scout. Who are you kidding?”

“But you did make a grocery list. And those are the things you mentioned. I have no idea where the cat litter comes into play, but…”

“Maybe that was a hint. That we should get a cat.”

“I don’t like cats.”

“How can you not like cats? They’re cute, and they’re furry, and they purr and make biscuits on you. How can you not be into that sort of thing?”

“They smell funny.”

“This coming from a guy that lets chickens freely roam the house. And sleep in the bed!”

“We are NOT getting a cat.”

“Just one?”

“No.”

“Please? You won’t even know it’s here. I’ll do all the feeding and the cleaning up and…”

“I don’t want a cat. I’m not a cat guy. Do I look like one to you?”

“Please, you like pussy more than anyone I know.”

“Not that kind, I don’t.”

“I’ll break you. I’ll wear you down. I will get my cat.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged.”

“You’d never go through with. You’d miss me too much.”

“Like a hemorrhoid.” She squeals when he slides a hand between her and the couch and aggressively pinches her ass, then playfully shoves him away and sits up; hands smoothing over her hair and fixing her ponytail. “I have some bad news, by the way.”

“Color me surprised.”

“We have to leave the house sooner than I thought. We need to go into town. Grab a few things.”

“Ketchup, ass tissue, and cat litter?”

“Ice cream. And chocolate. My period is coming soon.”

“I didn’t need to know that.”

“I mean, you wouldn’t wonder why I’m suddenly bitchy and bleeding out of my vagina?”

“You’re always bitchy. And you like things rough. Anything can go wrong when you’re…”

“And firewood. We need firewood. Track down some of the pre-cut, bagged stuff. There’s not enough on the porch to even last even a couple of days. It’s how we heat this place, so…”

“Have you taken a look outside? We are surrounded by trees. Which is where firewood comes from. And I already saw an axe out on the front porch.”

“You have one good arm.”

“Which is more than enough to chop firewood. I mean, it’ll take a lot longer than if I had TWO good arms, but…”

“And you have one good leg. You’re going to hurt yourself. Chop your foot off or something. I could always do it. I know how to use an axe.”

“You can lift an axe?”

“Well, maybe not a normal-size one. But a little one.”

“You mean a hatchet?”

“It’s technically a little axe, right? I mean, it’ll take me a couple of days to make any sort of headway, but…”

“And you worry about me hurting myself? I’m just supposed to be okay with you wielding a hatchet? I mean, if you want to do it that badly, you can just come out and help me. Make sure I don’t fuck things up.”

“Oh, right. And then when I annoy you, you’ll chop me into a million pieces and throw me in the woods!”

“I would never chop you up and throw you in the woods.”

“Aww, you big softy. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself; if I wasn’t around anymore. You’d…”

“I’d chop you up and feed you to the dog.”

At the end of the couch, Lucy briefly raises her head, tilting it from side to side before issuing a heavy sigh and returning to her original position.

“You’re an asshole,” Esme grumbles, laughing when she tries to stand but quickly finds two powerful arms wrapping around her waist and yanking her back down.

“I'll tell you what, because I don’t want you worrying so much, we will go into town and find bagged firewood.”

“Thank you.”

“We’ll get enough to last at least a couple of weeks. But once it runs out, you gotta give me a chance, yeah? To try and do things? Because I’m going to go completely fucking nuts doing nothing but sitting on my ass all day.”

“There’s lots of things for you to do. You can go on walks, you can ice fish, you can learn to knit, like Yaz said.”

“Just let me try. That’s all I’m asking. I’m not going to get any better by not testing the limits. You need to trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that I worry about you. I’ve spent nine months taking care of you. In some way or another. And it makes me really nervous; when I think about all the things that could go wrong.”

“Don’t think about those things, then,”

“Believe me, it’s easier said than done. But I WILL try. To not worry so much.”

“Thank you.”

Slipping out of his embrace, she climbs into his lap, wrapping both arms around his neck and placing her head on his shoulder. And her eyes close as she enjoys both his scent and touch, large hands slipping up the back of her shirt, calloused fingertips repeatedly travelling up and down her spine.

“By the way…” His voice rumbles deep within his chest. “...I’d never do anything horrible to you. Not even remotely.”

Smiling, she presses a kiss to the sensitive spot just below his left ear. “I know.”

“Also, I’m ready for my surprise.”

“Jesus…”

“Listen, you said the ‘p word’. That was the trigger.”

Laughing, she pulls back to look at him, fingertips tracing the scar that curves over the bridge of her nose. “You’re like a horny fifteen-year-old stuck in a grown man’s body.”

“I’ve got a lot to make up for. Nine months. That’s…”

“A long ass time.”

“I don’t know old timer,” she teases, and playfully ruffles his hair. “Think you can keep up with a youngin’ like me.”

“I don’t know.” One hand slips between them to gently cup her breast, and he feels her shiver against him when his thumb brushes over her nipple. “But I can’t try.”

[prerodinu]

Tyler didn't like the way Liam hid, he was extrovert whilst Liam seemed introvert. They do say opposites are attracted, but it was still a little strange outside it all. Tyler wasn't sure why he was so... here for it, though. He wasn't going to lie and say he wasn't a bit of a slut with folks, but it wasn't like he had the intentions of being monogamous anytime soon and yet with Liam? He just knew it wasn't some silly fling, Drah's told him enough times and Liam just knew how to tickle his senses in keeping him being a good boy.

Though it was comical seeing how such a giant man tried to hide amongst them all. They were all pretty tall at the moment, the kids - well, the youngest adults seem to be in their world, so he didn't keep Drah entertained as he fostered Bon onto him. Smirking as he stood and stepped away to mingle, he smiled upon giving Renji a side hug in offer, before moving on with a dip of his head towards Artie and Katia, before finally stopping near his... Liam.

"Are you okay?" Hands were gentle in tucking his index and middle finger into the front pocket. To anchor the man here, to get his attention fully before tilting his head in, offering up his neck. "Wanna go get some fresh air?" Yet, no matter what, it was just normal it seemed to feel at ease before the larger figure, his muscles releasing tension and his lungs inhaling their smell with a muted flavour compared to his.

He didn’t get many nights like this. The soft pillow of pack frangance and home cooked meals. The slight chill that had him putting on a long sleeve shirt.

The worst was the cold for his hands. He wasn’t clutching a bottle or anything, his rings keeping his fingers in place so they didn’t throb with the need to use them.

He needed a drink or something to calm his bones, instead he stayed, towards the door but hidden enough so that if someone caught him, he didn’t seem the imposing. That, big.

Artem was big but when everyone looked at Artem then saw home.

When they looked at Liam they saw fear.

He hated it but he didn’t do anything to stop it.

So when his eyes caught red, blood red, the sanguine color that spilled whatever he touched, not the strawberry red or fire red, he followed it. Watching Tyler move around the pack gave him an ache he didn’t want to look into.

So even with his brain telling him to turn his head, his fingers curled and uncurled, the pain spiking into his senses that when Tyler got close he took a small step away. The finger in his pocket kept him from going too far.

“Go back to the party Red.” He used the nickname, a grumble of words. He wished his hands worked to grasp at Tyler, pull him close, instead, he huffed out a growl and hoped the other would listen.

[unorthodoxsavvy]

The Philver Scream

Thank God It's Friday

Chapter 1

Word Count: 75k

Rating: R

Genre: Horror

Philip (Phil) stood between fellow counselors Daniel (Dan) and Suzan (Suzie) as the seven of them waved off the buses full of the kids they’d had all summer.

“I’m going to miss them,” Jessica (Jessy) teared up, waving goodbye.

“Good riddance if you ask me.” The smile on Rebecca (Becky)’s face was plastered on.

Phil turned to see Dan’s reaction, but Dan just turned to face him and shrugged, smiling.

Once the buses were out of sight they all turned to make their way back to the main cabin.

It was a Friday, August 13th, and they had the rest of the afternoon to make sure that the camp was closed down for the season: everything put back where it belonged, no perishable food in the pantry, cabins cleaned, outdoor equipment stored for the winter, things of that nature. It was a lot to do, so in the spirit of comradery and for one last night of summer fun before school started next week for everyone respectfully, they had decided together to spend one last night at camp before packing up their own things in the morning and heading back home.

The other boy, Tyler, was the first up the stairs to the porch of the main house. Rocking chairs were spread out across the deck and he dramatically plopped himself down in one while he waited for the rest of them. 

Bringing up the rear was a girl with blonde curls named Louise. Together, they all sat on rocking chairs on the porch like a bunch of old folks, rocking and staring out at the glistening lake between the tall pine trees. Phil could see why the camp was named as it was.

“Alright, what’s on the agenda?” Tyler asked, leaning his head back and closing his eyes as he rocked, as if he was enjoying a vacation in paradise.

Suzie pulled a lined sheet of pocket-sized notebook paper out of her pocket.

“Alright, here’s what needs to get done: the cabins and bathrooms need to be inspected, the main building has to be cleaned, someone needs to check the tool and equipment sheds to make sure everything is put away, and while that’s going on, someone should start making dinner and start a fire.”

They all looked at each other.

“Jessy and I will check the cabins and the bathrooms,” Becky offered loudly. Jessy tried to look enthusiastic, but she just looked pained instead. Becky had taken to ordering Jessy around for the summer, and Jessy was too timid of a girl to stand up for herself. Any interference by any of the other counselors had been met with resistance on Becky’s part. 

“Louise and I can check the equipment and tool sheds and walk the grounds,” Tyler offered. It’d been clear to all the other campers that Tyler and Louise had their eyes on each other.

“Alright,” Suzie agreed. “Dan, can you and Phil work on cleaning up here while I cook dinner and start a fire?”

Phil shared another look between him and Dan.

“Sure thing,” Dan smiled. “Thanks for offering to cook dinner for all of us.”

Suzie smiled in return.

“All right, I’m sure we’ll find more things to do along the way so let’s get started now.”

Tyler groaned dramatically but stood up and made his way down one of the sets of stairs followed by Louise.

Right behind her was Jessy and Becky.

Suzie, Dan, and Phil all headed inside the main cabin.

“You could start by sweeping,” Suzie offered before making her way into the kitchen.

Phil walked over towards the closet with Dan trailing at his heels.

“Heading back into the closet?” Dan joked as Phil opened the squeaky door. He wrapped a hand around the push broom handle to pull it out. The wide bottom ended up pulling out much more than Phil had bargained for, and as he moved out of the way, Dan swooped in to put everything that had fallen out back inside.

The two of them had shared an almost instant sense of something shared between them. Fielding questions from curious kids about girlfriends far away as well as incessant shipping of the both of them with the other girls would have been alienating on their own, but together the two of them plotted to make up fake girlfriends of the most outlandish proportions. Of course, the other counselors knew that these were tall tales, if not necessarily why, but the campers ate it up. Instead of awkward it became an amusing game between them, almost competing to see whose fake girlfriend was better. So far Phil’s fake girlfriend was on track to become an Olympic rock climber, and Dan’s fake girlfriend was already being scouted by Hollywood producers.

“You know it,” Phil joked back over his shoulder. He carried the broom towards a corner of the room.

“I’ll take the smaller broom and head into the other rooms,” Dan offered, reaching back into the closet.

As Phil swept he heard Suzie call “Not while I’m cooking! You’re going to get dust and hair in our food!” followed by Dan reappearing from the kitchen.

“I guess we’ll save that for later,” he decided, making his way across the large main room towards the office.

There was, of course, adult staff during the summer hours, but all had gone home for the night, including the nurse, whose office was located in the back of the main cabin, the regular cook, and the camp director, whose office was located just off to Phil’s side. It was here Dan was heading now to sweep around the desk and filing cabinets.

In the main room was a grand stone fireplace on which an entire stuffed black bear reared up surrounded by old couches that sank when you sat in them. The bear watched with his glass eyes Phil as he swept. “Hope you don’t have allergies,” he joked towards it.

When the sweeping and general cleaning was finished in the main building both boys reported to Suzie, who was still in the kitchen making dinner. A deep pan was searing ground beef on the induction stove while Suzie prepared traditional taco toppings.

“Why don’t you two head out and see if anyone else needs help?” she suggested, and they followed her suggestion, heading out the front door onto the porch. They crossed the deck and leaned over the railing.

“Are you going to miss this?” Dan asked, gazing out over the treeline.

Phil nodded. “Yeah, I think I am. Anything is better than dealing with school work and social pressures, isn’t it?”

“Even kids?”

Phil paused for a moment and tilted his head. “It will be nice to have a break from the constant chaos,” he finally conceited.

“I never want to leave,” Dan sighed. Unbeknownst to either of them, none of them would be leaving- at least not alive.

*-*-*-*-*

Unsurprisingly, cleaning the main building and cooking dinner had taken the least time of all the chores, leaving Dan, Suzie, and Phil to make the campfire for the night. Dan and Phil didn’t mind this: Suzie was the least insufferable of all of their fellow counselors. She’d left the taco meat simmering low on the stove to keep it warm. When all the chores were done, the three of them headed back up to the main cabin and brought down everything they needed back to the fire.

The group sat in silence as they ate, finally enjoying a moment of peace between the seven of them without any adults or kids. They were eating out of bowls, as they’d run out of taco shells during camp.

In keeping with the camp theme, each of them were sat either on logs in pairs or tree stumps. Dan and Phil had ended up sharing a shorter log and were pressed shoulder to shoulder.

“I’m so thankful we don’t have to sing camp songs anymore,” Becky sighed, pulling out a portable speaker from her pocket and hooking it up to her phone via bluetooth. She turned on some pop music just a bit too loud, but no one said anything.

Suzie reached her arms up in a stretch. “I should take these bowls back up to the kitchen and get them cleaned so I don’t have to do it in the morning. There’s a few bars of chocolate and marshmallows left, and one more unopened box of graham crackers that’s definitely not going to make it to next year. Are we tired of s’mores yet, or can I bring them out so we don’t have to throw them away?”

“I’m fine with one more night of s’mores. Lord knows we probably won’t be having any until next year,” Jessy said.

Louise let out a hearty chuckle. “You’re crazy if you think I’m coming back next year,” she grinned. “Besides, I’m hoping to be out of here by then.”

Jessy nodded, as if remembering something. “Senior year. Are you excited? Are you nervous?”

Louise shook her head, golden curls bouncing. “I’m excited to get the fuck out of here.”

Jessy smiled wistfully.

“I’ll help you carry the bowls up,” Tyler offered, standing up from his stump. Almost undetectable he shot a glance at Louise before looking away, as if to say “look at what a gentleman I’m being.” Suzie didn’t seem to notice but it wasn’t lost on either of the other boys and they shared a knowing look between them.

“Thanks Tyler. We’ll be back in a bit.”

“I’m going to go take a walk,” Louise announced, standing up. “Anyone want to come?”

Becky also stood up. “Jessy and I will come.”

Jessy stood up obligatorily. 

“How about you guys?” Louise asked, doe eyes staring at them behind big lashes.

“I’m good,” Phil responded, leaning back a bit.

“Same here, but thanks,” Dan agreed.

“Suit yourselves. See you soon!”

“Be safe!” Dan called after them.

Jessy waved a flashlight in the air to show them she had one and flicked it on.

The two then watched the circle of light until it disappeared into the wilderness.

“I wonder what my girlfriend is doing right now,” Dan joked.

“Climbing rocks in Japan?” Phil suggested.

“No, that’s your girlfriend,” Dan reminded him.

“Oh right. I’m sure she’s staring in some sort of new teen movie.”

“Oh yeah? What kind?”

Phil thought for a moment, before clawing his hands and raising them in front of him.

“A slasher. Very bloody, very gorey.”

“And where does it take place?”

“At a camp,” Phil said in a spooky voice, “on a night just like this one.”

“Oh yeah?” Dan asked again. “All you’re missing is a flashlight to shine in your face.”

Phil pulled out his phone and turned on it’s flashlight.

“At a camp, on a night just like this,” Phil repeated.

The two laughed, but soon their smiled fell.

“I wish I had a boyfriend,” Phil said, suddenly very demur.

“Me too,” Dan agreed.

They stared into the fire, flickering flames illuminating all the caresses of their young faces. The fire popped and crackled and the sound mixed with that of the forest at night. Phil really was going to miss this.

Just then, the night air was pierced by a scream.

On instinct both of them rose to their feet, stumbling a little as they bumped into each other from their close proximity.

“Where did that come from?” Dan asked in a hushed whisper.

“I don’t know,” Phil replied.

“Fuck,” Dan swore. “Quick, you go find the girls and I’ll check the main cabin. Meet back here when we have everyone.”

Without looking back he headed off in the direction he’d last seen Jessy’s flashlight.

The girls had followed Louise on the trail that led out towards the road. Phil walked quickly, waving his phone’s flashlight back and forth into the trees as he listened hard. He hardly kept his eyes on his feet even though it was dark: he’d come to know these trails and every root and upturned rock.

Phil’s breathing was heavy with anxiety and for some reason he worried that his breathing was too loud. He didn’t understand why he felt that way, but it was almost as if… he was being watched. Yes, that was it. He felt watched. He hadn’t been able to place the feeling until now. The hairs on his arm stood on end and he felt beads of sweat dripping down his neck from the Texas heat, even when the sun was down and the moon conquered her domain.

Phil heard a rustle off to the right in front of him and he whipped his flashlight in that direction. He didn’t see anything. He gulped and held his phone in that direction for a moment until he spotted a movement. He flicked the beam of light up a tree. He saw a flash of gray fur. It had just been a squirrel, spooked by his presence. Phil sighed and forced his body to relax while he was stopped. He swept the light around him one more time before taking another step, but-

Something had only just registered in his brain. He thought he’d seen something again.

He took another few deliberate steps forward and swept his light over the area again, and oh my god-

Becky was laying facedown just off the trail.

“Becky?” Phil called, rushing over to kneel by her side.

He shone the light down on her back and saw the blood oozing from underneath the tear in her shirt.

“Oh my god,” he muttered under his breath. Instinctively he dropped his phone and pressed down on the wound, which caused to blood to come out even faster.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Phil recoiled, heart racing in his chest so fast it hurt.

Becky still wasn’t moving.

“Becky? Becky?”

Phil reached towards her outstretched wrist, checking for a pulse. He didn’t find any. “Oh my god,” he said one more time before standing back up. He wiped his bloody hands down his tee and grabbed his phone from next to Becky’s body.

“LOUISE! JESSY!” Phil was running down the trail now as fast as his legs could carry him. He was in much better shape now from all the hiking than he had been over the past school year, and yet he was still gasping for air in between every yell.

“JESSY? LOUISE?”

Phil’s feet carried him all the way around the trail, which was one of the shorter ones, back to the campfire. Dan, Tyler, and Suzie weren’t there so he took back off along the trail that led up the hill to the main building. There he found them huddled together on one couch in front of the unlit fireplace under the watchful eyes of the bear.

Dan stood up to meet him.

“Phil, I’m so sorry, Suzie suggested that we-”

“Becky’s dead,” Phil interrupted. “We need to go find the others.”

Tyler, Suzie, and Dan shared looks of horror.

“Oh my god,” Suzie muttered. Then her face hardened.

“Okay. Two of us should stay here and two of us should head out and look for Jessy and Louise.”

“Wait!” Tyler interjected. “Dead how?! What the fuck happened?!”

“She was murdered,” Phil explained.

“Murdered?” Dan asked, aghast. “By who?”

“I don’t know, but we have to find the others,” Phil begged.

Suzie was quickly loosing her composure, tears sliding down her face. “This is a joke, right?” she asked, trying to convince herself more than anything. They all knew Phil wouldn’t joke about something like this, and they’d all heard that scream. It wasn’t the kind of scream you could fake for anything.

“It’s not a joke, and we should all be out looking for them together.”

“What if they come back here? We all know to come back here. We should wait here for them.”

“We need to go out and find them,” Tyler argued.

“I agree.”

The three of them looked at Dan. He gazed up at Phil brokenheartedly. 

“If they come back here and no one’s here they’ll be scared and confused,” he thought aloud.

Phil gazed back at him and nodded his head, a gesture of a lack of animosity between them.

“Then Tyler and I will go look for them and you guys stay here.”

“Here, take this.” Suzie hurried over to a table by the door that had a large, highly powered flashlight sat atop. She turned it and handed it to Tyler.

“Be safe out there.”

Phil glanced at the phone still in his hand, wishing there was cell service so they could keep in contact with each other over text. “We’ll be back,” he assured, slipping it in his back pocket.

He and Tyler went back outside and stood on the porch. 

“Weren’t not splitting up,” Phil ordered.

Tyler gave him a look like he was crazy. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

Phil hoped Tyler couldn’t see his shoulders sink in relief in the dark.

“Alright, where would you go if you were running from a crazy killer?” Tyler asked.

“Here,” Phil answered truthfully.

“Agreed, but they didn’t come back here. What’s your next move?”

Phil gritted his teeth. “Hide, I guess, in one of the kid’s cabins. I would hope there’s a lot of them and the killer would tire of searching them all verses a solitary building like the bathrooms or the arts and crafts building.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Well my first thought would have been to grab the shotgun out of the tool shed,” Tyler replied.

Phil blinked in surprise. “There’s a shotgun in the tool shed?”

“Have you not been in the tool shed?”

“No, I have, I just-”

“Okay well, yeah, there’s a shotgun. So now what do we do?”

Phil sighed.

“Let’s check the cabins first. They’re closer”

Tyler nodded and they turned to the left running off down the porch steps.

The flashlight’s beam bounced as they ran.

“LOUISE?” Phil called and Tyler skidded to a halt. 

“Phil! Shut up!”

“What?”

“There’s a killer on the loose! Do you want him to find us?!”

Phil gulped and shook his head and they continued off running.

After a few minutes they made it to the first cabin. The doors were a wooden frame with two sections of screen separated with a two-by-four. Tyler grabbed the rusty door handle with the hand that wasn’t holding the flashlight and yanked it open. Phil pulled his phone back out of his back jeans pocket and turned on it’s light once more as they searched the cabin.

“Nothing,” Tyler sighed, and they jogged to the next cabin in line.

There was nothing their either.

Phil wasn’t really expecting to find anything, so when they stumbled upon Louise’s body in the third cabin underneath a bunk bed in a pool of blood, he still wasn’t any more prepared than he had been to see Becky’s dead body.

“Louise,” Tyler let out a choked sob and knelt down in the blood.

He gently grabbed her hand and brushed her blond curls from her face.

Phil, himself crying, placed a hand on Tyler’s shoulder and picked up the flashlight Tyler had dropped.

“Come on, we need to search the other cabins for Jessy.”

Tyler, now soaked in blood from the knees down, stood back up, sliding a little in the still-warm pool, which only made him cry even harder.

Phil grabbed his arm.

“Come on, we need to go.”

“Hold on just one second.”

Tyler bent down again and used two fingers to drag her eyelids shut. Phil appreciated the gesture, both symbolically, and as someone who’d been subjected to her haunted, glassy-eyed gaze. It was the same cool gaze as the bear above the fireplace had. Dead.

Phil and Tyler searched the rest of the cabins, now expecting to find Jessy also dead, either huddled up under one of the beds like Louise or sprawled out in death on one of the matresses like Becky had been in the forest, but they didn’t.

“We have to check the tool shed next,” Tyler remarked, and so once again they headed down the trail that wrapped around Crystal Lake.

The tool shed’s outer light was on.

Tyler and Phil shared a glance, trying their best to steel their nerves against their trembling bodies as Tyler pulled open the door and Phil shone the light inside. There was no need to, though. The shed’s single light bulb that hung from a cord from the rafters was on, still swinging from the force of someone yanking the cord to turn it on. The light swung back and forth, and in the middle of the floor Jessy lay with the shotgun tossed to the side near her. It was clear she’d put up a fight but she was still dead.

Another round of tears started up for both of them as they exited the shed.

“We have to tell the others back up at the main cabin.”

“I know.”

Phil felt drained but he ran back down the trail they way they’d come, following behind Tyler who was running ahead of the flashlight’s beam.

When they reached the main cabin again all the lights were shut off.

“Oh no.”

They made their way to the staircase on their left before sliding to a halt again.

Facedown on the stairs lay Dan, dead trying to run out of the building.

Phil felt his whole world shatter. It’d been hard enough seeing the friends he’d spent the summer with, but… somehow he’d never thought that Dan wouldn’t make it out alive… and for the first time, he was wondering if he and Tyler were going to make it out alive either.

Tyler’d thrown up an arm to stop Phil from running towards Dan’s body.

“He might still be alive,” Phil whispered hoarsely.

“He’s not alive,” Tyler said and he grabbed Phil’s arm and dragged him around the porch to the other stair case.

Quietly they searched the house, finding Suzie dead in the pantry. By this time Phil was expecting she hadn’t made it out alive.

They stood shoulder to shoulder staring down at their dead friend’s body.

“We need to get out of here,” Tyler decided, and they crept their way quickly back through the kitchen out to the main room in the dark, path lit only by the powerful flashlight in Phil’s hand.

Phil raised the flashlight towards the main entrance, the door to which they’d left open in their hurry to find Suzie. In the doorway stood a large man with an even larger machete. His balding head was covered in a mask with holes. Tyler, an avid sports fan, instantly recognized it as an old hockey mask. Phil didn’t. Either way, the man was an immediate threat to both of them, and they took off running towards the nurses station in the back.

Tyler yanked open the back door and ran outside followed closely by Phil. Phil ran as fast as his feet could carry him, but his shoe caught in a root and Phil felt the breath leave his chest after his body slammed to the forest floor, flashlight dancing off the path.

“Phil!”

Tyler turned to look behind him and Phil watched the masked man melt out of the forest between them.

“Tyler! Go! Run!”

Tyler hesitated but turned back around and continued to run towards the parking lot.

Phil scrambled back up to his feet and turned around back the way he’d come and ran back through the door to the nurse’s office. He dove under the nurse’s desk and tried to catch his breath after his fall.

Think, he told himself. Think.

He played out a mental map of the camp. There was the trail to the road that Becky had died near. There was the parking lot with Tyler and Louise’s cars. They were the only counselors who had driven to camp. If Tyler was able to get his car out and escape that only left Louise’s car, and Phil didn’t know where she’d left her keys. If Tyler had died his car was still an option.

That, or he could try and hide somewhere at the camp. That hadn’t worked for anyone else, though. He racked his brain to come up with a plan. Then it came to him: the lake. If he could take a boat out into the lake the killer would either have to swim out to get him or take another boat out. If the killer swam out Phil would be able to hear him coming, and if he watched the beach to see if the killer took another canoe out Phil would have plenty of time to paddle to the other side of the lake before the killer made it. When his fellow counselor's families realized they were missing tomorrow they would send the police to come looking for them and the police would find Phil and get him out of here alive. There was no place to run or hide out in the open on a lake. No one could sneak up on him. 

Phil crawled out on all fours from underneath the nurse’s desk and slipped through the open front door of the main building and crossed to the staircase that Dan’s body wasn’t draped over. He was so tired, but after this he could rest.

Phil ran down the hill trail past the campfire that was still burning and towards the beach. 

The canoes, of course, were all put away, stored upside-down on racks in the boat shed. They were aluminum canoes, though, light and easy, with the anticipation of kids handling them. They were heavy enough still though that it usually took two people at least to flip them off the racks and set them down, and even though Phil was exhausted, his adrenaline gave him one last burst of strength and he was able to flip the canoe off the lowest rack by himself and managed not to drop it on his feet.

Traditionally they weren’t supposed to drag the canoes to make sure they didn’t damage the bottom of the hull but Phil figured a moment of life or death made an acceptable exception to the rule.

Phil grabbed the rope at the front of the boat and dragged the boat across the grass and into the beach’s sand. Then he ran back into the boat shed and grabbed a paddle, throwing it in the boat with a loud clatter before resuming dragging it across the sand to the water’s edge. The water lapped at his sneakers, illuminated by the light atop the tall wooden pole next to the boathouse.

When the boat was afloat, Phil tipped himself into the middle, sitting up and grabbing the paddle. He started pushing his way out towards the center of the lake. He hadn’t grabbed a life vest, nor did he have a safety buddy, as everyone else was dead, but he figured these rules could also be overlooked at this moment.

Tiny lake waves lapped at his boat as he continued to paddle until he drifted on momentum to the approximate center of the lake. He looked around everywhere, scanning the forest’s edge for any sign of movement. He tried his best to relax his body while keeping his eyes peeled. There was nothing, though. No sounds out of place. No movements. Just the lapping of the waves that gently rocked him.

Phil kept his hands wrapped around the paddle but shifted his position to a more comfortable one. He was still exhausted, and his adrenaline was slowly heading back to a more normal level. He tried to keep his eyes open but he found himself blinking slowly, eyes growing heavy and tired. He could feel the ache of his body and the mental fatigue in his head threatening to swallow him up in a blanket of false security. Then again, though, was it false? I mean would someone want to kill him so badly they would paddle or swim all the way out to try and kill him? What would they do, try and tip him out and drown him? He would hear them coming even if he was asleep, right? He didn’t know, but did it really matter if he couldn’t stop himself from just falling asleep-

Suddenly something rocked the boat and jolted Phil into an upright position. A large hand reached out of the water and grabbed the boat. Phil raised his paddle and slammed it down on the fingers but the hand didn’t budge. Another hand wielding a machete reached up out of the murky depths and came down on the paddle, splitting the wood into two halves. Thinking quickly, Phil used the broken and splintered edge to stab down again. The jagged wood bounced right off the hand as if it was nothing.

This can’t be happening, Phil thought to himself.

The hand wielding the machete came down again and Phil felt a sharp pain in his abdomen and felt warmth. He looked down. There was blood all over his clothes. He dropped the halves of his paddle and reached down to his stomach. 

The last thing Phil was conscious of was an arm reaching around his forehead covering his eyes and the feeling of his neck sliding open, his head tilting back at an unnatural angle. He watched the stars twinkling in the night sky, tears in his eyes, until they faded to black. Faded to black.

[ghostofaboy]

Rock Bottom - Limits

Summary: Frankie is spiraling after Tom’s death. Drugs lead to some unhealthy friendships, and too ashamed to reach out to his former teammates for help, Frankie is drawn into a world he’s afraid he can’t get out of.

Frankie meets with Tilly again to talk about what working for him would exactly involve.

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morale/Original Male Characters Rating: Explicit. Serious over 18s only Word count: 2264 Chapter: 17/?

Warnings: implied/referenced drug use, drug addiction, self-esteem issues, angst, Frankie not coping, dubious consent, mentions of hard and soft limits (masturbation, oral sex, degradation, bondage, choking, anal sex, anal fisting, dildos/plugs, piss play, group sex)

Note: This has not been beta read, so apologies for any mistakes. This is a fic with gay and bi characters. Please make sure you read the tags/warnings. Header by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Part 16 / Part 1 / Masterpost

The next morning Tyler cooked breakfast, all the while complaining as usual about how ‘early’ Frankie had to get up. He chuckled as Tyler once again tried to pitch working with him and how Frankie would be able to set his own schedule. Each of them danced around the elephant in the room until Tyler set the pancakes in front of them.

“So,” Tyler began, pointing his fork at Frankie as the bleary-eyed former pilot started to eat. “I’ve slept on it, and here’s what I think. Like I said last night. I can’t shit on this or you doing any sex work without coming off as a massive asshole. I’m a fucking sex worker. I have a job booked in a couple of weeks with some guys. I have sex with other men all the time.”

“Good to know.” Frankie interjected sardonically, chewing his food and throwing Tyler a wink when the younger man frowned at Frankie’s words.

“My point is,” Tyler playfully scowled as he continued, “that the sex part isn’t the problem for me. Yeah, I’ll be jealous, but it’s not like you love the guy. It’s just sex.”

“The problem is who it is.” Frankie nodded.

“Yeah. Tilly’s rep is bad. I know he’s a loan shark, but I’m guessing that’s the tip of the iceberg Frank.”

“I’d never heard of him before this.” Frankie admitted. “But yeah, he’s obviously into some shady shit. That’s what I want to talk to him about today. I want a promise to keep me out of his other business.”

“When are you gonna talk to him?”

“After work. I just need to let him know when and where. In fact…” Frankie pulled out his phone. “I’ll text him now.”

[It’s Frankie Morales. Are we still on for today? Same time & place as yesterday?]

“All right.” Tyler finished his breakfast, collecting Frankie’s empty plate as he passed. “I’ll let you get to work. I’m gonna head home and go back to bed; it’s too fucking early, man. Let me know how it goes, ok?”

“I will.” After planting a kiss on Tyler’s lips, Frankie watched as the younger man left, heading for his car. Then Frankie finished getting ready before gathering his stuff for the day ahead.

Tilly didn’t text back until halfway through Frankie’s lunch hour. His phone buzzed in his pocket, making him jump as he fumbled to fish it out. Frowning, Frankie read the message.

[Yup! Made some notes re: our last conversation. But I was wondering if you’d like to come to my home? I can show you the cars, and it’ll be more comfortable than storage sheds.]

Tilly wanted him to go to his house? That was a big step. 

Frankie chewed thoughtfully on his food as he considered this offer. On the one hand, Tilly would have the advantage if he wanted to try anything. On the other, if he accepted the job, he’d be working there, so he may as well get the lay of the land. It made a certain kind of sense, but it wasn’t without danger. Frankie still didn’t know enough about Tilly to trust him fully. But then again, he’d been around the guy when drugged. If Tilly wanted to hurt him, he’d already had ample opportunity. 

[Ok. Send me your address and I’ll drive over after I’ve finished work.]

By the time he’d finished his lunch, Tilly had sent over his address, and Frankie had Googled it. It was in a nice part of town and looked pretty big from the aerial view. Tilly had obviously done well for himself, although Frankie still hadn’t figured out what he did as his legitimate business. Tidying up after his lunch Frankie tried to mentally prepare himself for the meeting later as he headed back to work.

After finishing for the day, Frankie went home to quickly shower before heading over to the address Tilly had sent him. As he pulled up, Frankie got his first look at Tilly’s home, and he had to admit it was gorgeous.

Set back from the road behind a pair of large iron gates, the house was barely visible from the street. As the gates opened for him, Frankie was able to drive up the short winding driveway toward the house. Pulling up outside, Frankie was met with a two-story house with sleek, clean lines with bright wood paneling. There were only a couple of windows visible from the front, both on the second floor. From this angle, the house looked like a large wooden block with a set of frosted glass double doors that swung open as Frankie killed his engine. 

Locking up his truck, Frankie was met at the door by Tilly beaming at him in a pair of blue sweatpants and a tight black vest showing off his muscular arms. 

“Great to see you again!” Tilly held the door open for Frankie to go inside. “Would you like something to drink, Frankie? I have tea and coffee, or would you like something cooler? I have beer or lemonade.”

Inside was a small entranceway that opened into a large sitting area with huge floor-to-ceiling windows that dominated the far wall. Off to the right were a set of stairs going up, while to the left was an impressive kitchen. Tilly darted into the kitchen, pulling out a couple of glasses and glancing back at Frankie.

“Beer? Lemonade?”

“Lemonade is fine.” Frankie shrugged, not wanting to drink alcohol at the first meeting in case he needed his wits about him.

“Take a seat, and I’ll bring it over.”

Frankie nodded and headed over to the lounge. A massive white leather L-shaped sofa occupied most of the space in the room, wrapping itself around the area. A large panel tv hung on the wall above a sleek metal fireplace that seemed to be the focal point, flanked on either side by massive windows. Frankie could see a cozy seating area and a pristine-looking lawn through the windows.

Sitting down on the plush sofa, Frankie started taking in the details. Although the space looked clean and minimalist, tiny personal touches were everywhere. A large bookcase was packed full of books, both paperback and hardcover, as well as small picture frames. While there was no art on the walls, there were pops of color everywhere to contrast the stark white. Sheer navy blue curtains framed the huge windows, the shag pile rug was a sandy shade of beige, and the sofa cushions were patterned with navy and gold. 

“Here.” Tilly returned, handing Frankie a cool glass of lemonade and pulling over a small glass coffee table. “So, shall we make small talk or cut the bullshit and dive straight in?”

Frankie couldn’t stop himself from smiling at Tilly’s joke. “Why don’t we just get to this?”

“All right.” Tilly nodded, setting down his glass. “I’ve given some thought to what you said about rules and came up with a list of things I would like to do with you so we can rule things out if needed. What about you? Do you have a list for me? Hard and soft limits?”

“Yes.” Frankie took a sip. “Firstly though, I wanna make sure I don’t have anything to do with your, um, your business. I’ll fix your cars, I’ll fuck you, but I’m not gonna work as a hired thug.”

Tilly’s eyebrows shot up, but he smiled all the same. “Blunt. But fair enough. I understand your concern. My business is, well, my business. Not yours and I give you my word you won’t be involved.”

“All right then.” Frankie took another mouthful before putting the lemonade on the table. “Do you want me to just list them or…?”

“Oh!” Tilly stood up and headed to the bookcase to grab a pad and pen. “You’re right. I should have this down. That way, we can revisit it when needed. Go ahead.”

“Ok, soft limits.” Frankie thought for a moment. “Well, to start with, I guess degradation is ok, but only if it’s just us. I don’t know if we’ll do group stuff, but if we do… please, no degradation. And I don’t mind being called a slut but don’t ever call me a whore.”

Tilly furiously scribbled down Frankie’s words. “Got it. Anything else?”

“I’ve never done any bondage, so I’m a little… um…” Frankie stumbled over his words. “I don’t know you that well, so…”

“I understand completely.” Tilly looked up from his notes. “We can talk about that once you’re more comfortable around me. What about light bondage? Not tying you up, but something like nipple clamps or a cock cage?”

“That’s fine.” Frankie nodded. “Light spanking is fine too, but no hard impact play.”

“Hands only.” Tilly looked up at Frankie, smiling. “I’m not really into spanking, to be honest. Is that all the soft limits?”

“I’m open to being blindfolded, some roleplay and sounding.” Frankie racked his brain but then shook his head. “That’s all l I can think of right now.” 

“Soft limits can be revisited as we try new things.” Tilly drew a line under the list he had written, then poised the pen to begin taking notes again. “Hard limits? Things you absolutely won’t do.” 

“No choking. I don’t want anything round my neck. Not your hands or a cord, nothing. So no breath play either.” Frankie wrung his hands. “Nothing to do with animals or animal roleplay. I’m not gonna eat out of a fucking dog bowl for you. No needles, no guns, no knives. Piss is fine, but no scat or blood. And it goes without saying, but no drugs.”

“Got it.” Tilly finished his notes and then underlined each one. Looking up at Frankie, Tilly looked almost sympathetic. “Frankie, I don't know what kind of guys you’ve been with in the past or who Gavin was renting you out to, but I don't want to hurt you. I will never do anything to physically hurt you; I don’t get off on that.”

“So, what do you want to do with me?” Frankie grabbed his lemonade again and took a big mouthful.

“Well, what I would consider basic stuff, really.” Tilly shrugged. “Anal, oral, masturbation. You know I like to fist you. You already mentioned degradation. I might make you display yourself for me, but nothing public. The rest is plugs, dildos, edging, piss play, and maybe some group stuff now and again.”

“That all sounds simple enough.” Frankie nodded, taking it all in. “Is… is this what we used to do together?”

“Yes.” Tilly looked guilty at the mention of his prior times with Frankie, and Frankie couldn’t help feeling a little satisfaction at that. “Lots of oral, cum eating, anal, then I’d fist you. Wide, not deep. Like I said, we never did anything you didn’t like.”

Frankie rolled his eyes and drained his glass. “I want a safe word too.”

“Naturally. Do you have one?”

“January.” Frankie answered immediately. He’d been using the same safe word since his twenties, making it ingrained in his mind. “So, I think that’s everything.”

“Not quite.” Tilly set the pad and pen down next to his lemonade. “This part is a little, shall we say, delicate. I’m not going to beat around the bush, though. I know you’re in a, well, a relationship with Tyler Jansen, an up-and-coming online porn star. Now, I’m not going to tell you that you can’t have a boyfriend, but he might not be very understanding of our arrangement.”

“I’ve already talked to him about this.” Frankie frowned. So Tilly knew about Tyler? Of course, he did. “So long as you can promise me I won’t be a part of any other part of your organization, then we’re both fine with this arrangement.”

“Organization? You make me sound like a crime boss.” Tilly laughed. “But if you’ve already spoken to him, then I think we’re done for the day. Unless you’d like to stay the night?”

Frankie hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “I still have work tomorrow. I’ll have to talk to my boss and hand my notice in before I start working for you.”

“So you’ll take the job?” Tilly looked overjoyed. 

“I wanna run everything from today past Tyler, but yeah, I think so.” Frankie stood up, with Tilly leading him back to the front door. “I’ll let you know when I’ve spoken to my boss so I can give you a start date.”

“But I haven’t shown you the cars yet.” Tilly smirked, holding the door open. “Why don't you come over this weekend? Have a look at the cars and start your extra duties early.”

Frankie paused for a fraction of a second before nodding, swallowing hard as he shook Tilly’s hand and got back into his truck. Setting off back home, Frankie shifted in his seat. 

He had lied. 

He didn’t know why he told Tilly he would go over it with Tyler. He was taking the job. He knew that now. 

From the moment he’d started talking about sex acts and what they would and wouldn’t be doing, he had felt his dick twitch. Even as Tilly briefly spoke about what they’d done together, he’d felt his arousal growing. They were going to fuck this weekend after viewing the cars, and Frankie was concerned how much he was looking forward to it. Even though thoughts of Tyler and his beautiful soulful eyes and goofy smile made him feel guilty, he still shivered at the thought of Tilly’s cock in him. 

[strawbrygashez]

20 and 1 please :)

1. What’s their love languages?

If Tyler would let him, narrator would be such a gift giver. He gets payed well bc of his job so he has tons to spend on him if he wanted. He’d fr shower tyler with new things everyday if he could but .. he can’t 😔 (Tyler is stupid af for that, cmon man u can’t turn down having a sugar daddy..) SOOOOO his love language is mostly acts of service. His whole purpose in life is to serve tyler according to him anyways. He tries to be very thoughtful in other ways than just gift giving. So he will do things like pamper him when he’s sick or really hurt, make his bed and clean his room if he lets him, he’ll carry things for him, go out and do chores for him, cook for him, help him bathe or do his hair… he will do just about anything to make Tylers life even just a little bit easier.

Tylers main love language is words or affirmation & physical touch. Okay yeah Tyler can speak pretty rudely to the narrator but if they are together he knows the narrator needs to and loves to hear praise and complements. While Tyler saying something as simple as “not bad psycho boy!” Is enough to make the narrator feel light headed, Tyler will get into moods where he actually genuinely will compliment him and praise him. Most of the time it’s about how good the narrator listens to him.

For the physical touch thing, I added that because Tyler wants to give and receive sweet physical touches a lot more than people would think. He just never really had someone he felt as comfortable with doing that kinda stuff with than the narrator. Like yeah he has had a lot of hook ups but he never felt as inclined to be as cuddly with them as the narrator. He’ll hold his hand, put his arm around him, sleep against him, lean against him, sit him in his lap, hug him, kiss him all over, run his hand thru his hair, kiss his palms and wrists and stuff like that :3

20. What clothes/accessories do they steal from each other?

Oooo this is a good one! I think the narrator mostly steals Tylers jackets. He’s all skinny and all bone so he gets colder easier than Tyler. That’s half of the reason anyways, the other is that he just loves how they smell like him. Before he sneaks a jacket out from tylers closet or whatever, he INHALES IT because he’s a creep and a weirdo. He still sniffs it while he’s out wherever too. It actually helps him calm down and relax a bit smelling it. I think his favorite to steal is that big black fluffy one..he feels like there is less eyes on him than when he wears Tylers bright red one.

I can’t stop thinking about how the narrator would feel like he’s wearing something god had worn…and it makes him feel dizzy thinking about it for too long. What a weirdo.

Tyler would wear the narrators ties! His favorite to steal is his penguin one because it’s so dorky and it’s actually close to something Tyler would pick out for himself anyways (tho he’d prefer if it was cats instead of penguins). Narrator feels .. all kinda feelings knowing Tyler is wearing something of his!!! Mostly he thinks it’s somehow going to make people know Tyler is unavailable and that he’s his.. when that doesn’t really make sense when he thinks about it.

(Also gonna add narrator might wear Tylers bracelets if he has any. Since they are small enough to not draw a lot of attention to himself or come off as flashy at the office or whatever.)

[dustedmagazine]

William Tyler & The Impossible Truth — Secret Stratosphere (Merge)

Secret Stratosphere by William Tyler & The Impossible Truth

It’s been a while since William Tyler released a full-length album of his own music, the most recent being Goes West, his 2019 foray into soft rock. A movie soundtrack, an ep , and a fantastic collaboration with Marisa Anderson have followed, all brimming with interesting ideas, and he’s presumably been in the studio cooking up something new. In the meantime, he has released a live recording from 2021. With Secret Stratosphere, Tyler returns to the classic rock sound of 2014’s Lost Colony ep — two of the three songs on which appear here — with a line-up that includes a conventional rhythm section and Luke Schneider on pedal steel.

There is a dad rock vibe to the proceedings (Tyler even name-checks Blue Oyster Cult and Rusted Root), from the accomplished soloing to the power chord crunch. Generally, the versions of Tyler’s compositions here don’t vary a whole lot from the studio versions apart from being fully electric and stripped down, though the lead-off track trades the AOR stylings of one of the better tunes on Goes West (the only one in the present set) for a proggy veneer. A stylistic pillar of post-rock, the slowdown before the big climax, is especially well-represented. 

Secret Stratosphere doesn’t overlap with previous live sets Elvis Was a Capricorn (2012) or Live at Third Man Records (2016) but does draw on most of Tyler’s releases. It also includes one new tune (apart from a new ending grafted onto “Highway Anxiety” dubbed “Radioactivity”), “Area Code 601,” which Tyler introduces as a “Hawkwind Meets Charlie Daniels band number.” However, nothing quite so interesting develops; instead, heavy generic riffs create the impression that Dave Grohl may be waiting in the wings to launch into an anthemic chorus. 

The recording has a definite live feel; Tyler talks up the crowd, which, though sounding a bit thin, responds enthusiastically, and the drums are way up front in the mix while the bass is more felt than heard. Schneider’s steel occasionally shines, as on the slowdowns before the big climaxes of “Whole New Dude” and “Gone Clear,” but more often it is in the background, filling the space often covered by keyboards. 

Perhaps it is best to view Secret Stratosphere through the lens of the pandemic. Recorded in May 2021 (in Huntsville, Alabama), amid the first wave of vaccinations and the relaxing of many public health restrictions, the audience must have been thrilled to be back in a brew pub listening to live music, and Tyler sounds happy to be back in front of a crowd. In that context, the bar-band ethos makes perfect sense; this is music that would sound best after the third beer. I hope, though, that Tyler is preparing to offer up some fresh, forward-looking music soon. 

Jim Marks

[irlbkgs]

📦💟💌 for the ask game!! with daryl + any others you wanna talk about >_<

📦 Who are some F/Os you no longer ship with? Why?

mm it's hard to list all of them bc a lot were like from before i knew what selfshipping was ya know? some that came from after i made this blog and found selfshipping tho are kirishima eijirou, tyler galpin, pope heyward and bellamy blake. for tyler and pope i kind of just grew out of the hyperfixation and the shows were kind of dogshit so it's hard to get back into them just for my faves, plus i aged out of them in a way. like for most of my f/o's i feel like they age with me but these two didn't really bc the hyperfixation was so contained to that specific time period of like. being in high school or freshly graduated. for kirishima it was mostly the age thing as well, i do feel like he aged with me and maybe ill re-add him someday bc he's now officially older than me and he will probably always hold a special place in my heart just bc i identify so heavily with bakugou but for awhile there it was like. well we're both born in 2003 but he hasn't aged in the series so he's 15 and im now an adult and it feels weird (also weird that he's now 24 and is still supposed to be born in 2003 like dude im 21 what's happening) as for bellamy i just don't obsess over him in the way i do other f/o's so i think i honestly just added him to begin with bc it was like kin related. murphy is one of my highest kins so his homoeroticsm with bellamy couldn't be overlooked when i first found selfshipping.

💟 Give us an embarrassing/secret headcanon you have about your F/O!

ehehe i mean. okay obviously daryl is more sensitive than he let's on but i think during alexandria era when he finally feels about as close to safe as he can get given the circumstances it really comes out in private. like he gets real domestic and lovey-dovey in a daryl way ofc like he's not bringing home chocolates and making breakfast in bed but he's relaxing in a way he never has before. he's reading books on the couch and being the little spoon and cooking dinner out of box pasta and roadkill. he's teaching me how to skin animals and fix cars bc now there's time and resources and we aren't spending every waking moment terrified.

💌 How did you/your F/O confess your feelings to one another?

again it's alexandria!! like the actual feeling of being somewhere with concrete sanctuary (or so we thought) just made it easy. it wasn't an outright confession of like "hey so i liiiike you and here's how long and why and blah blah blah" but it just made sense. we move in together when we first get there so we aren't alone and we have each other's backs but then it just becomes obvious and it slips out like it's casual. it's nothing big or grand it's just an i love you and he reciprocates and we don't make it a big deal. it feels like we have all the time in the world to just let things happen naturally.

[slytherinmischief]

Remembering Last Night (Pt 3)

Feelings and Disagreements

Present 

A chirping of a bird stalled Devin as she was pulled out of her memory before it was finished. That’s it was the first thing that Devin thought after getting over her initial shock at the chirping bird being heard. Well, at least that explains how we got there. It doesn’t explain why I was in his bed. But better that than nothing Devin thought upon exiting the memory. A sense of relief settled on her upon her knowing that memory wasn’t as alluring as the one in the living room had been. Yet alongside that was another feeling of wishing that it was. No, I shouldn’t it was only a game that’s it. There was no way he could’ve possibly seduced me. Those feelings in the living room must be wrong she thought as she was trying to clear any desire she felt towards Tyler. As if to try and distract herself Devin allowed herself to open the fridge yet rather it be full of takeout it was once again empty. Causing Devin to be once again confused. If we ordered something why is it still empty she wondered? Upon closing the fridge, did Devin begin to wonder trying to see if she could find any clues as to why there were no leftovers from dinner? Devin starts her walk towards the dishwasher to see if she could find any clues. Devin merely touched the dishwasher when another memory came rushing to the surface quicker than the previous ones.

That Night

The first thing that could be heard was laughter as Devin entered the room carrying two dirty dishes in her hands she put them aside using the water from the sink to fill them up. As upon it running did Tyler come. “Seriously you don’t have to do that,” he protested.

 “Don’t I?”

 “You don’t.”

 “I insist after all you cooked.”

 “Yes to,” Tyler started before Devin finished the sentence before him.

 “Seduce me?”

 “Yes so why don’t you just let me do it.”

Upon hearing this Devin turned her head to look in Tyler’s direction. “Tyler.”

 “Yes, dearest.”

 “I thought you were supposed to seduce me.”

 “Aren’t I already doing that?”

 “Perhaps,” Devin said with a hinting smile. “If you have as many moves as you claim, not washing dishes shouldn’t change the desire one would be feeling.”

 “But,” Tyler protested.

“But nothing I insist on doing it since you cooked.”

 “To seduce you.”

 “I know.”

 “So are you seduced?”

 “If I were seduced, you wouldn’t need to ask that question.”

 “Yes but….”

 “But nothing now come on I’ve got to wash these dishes sometime tonight.” Upon saying this did Devin begin the process of submerging the first of their dishes under the sink. “And while I am at it, can you please get the rest of the things that needed be washed?”

Rather than protest, Tyler seemed to have given up as he collected the remnants of what he used to cook. One by one Devin put them under water and began to process of cleaning them out. Allowing water to hit them before she latted them in soap. Before scrubbing them one by one as now the room was quiet as Tyler took to drying and putting up the dishes. The two not saying anything at least before Tyler did something. Devin had just finished the last of her dishes. 

As after he finished drying Tyler set his towel down and got closer and closer to Devin. Devin probably could’ve walked away, yet she was far too interested in what was about to happen. As Tyler was soon standing over her, as he got closer and closer to her, his scent now invading her senses. As he leaned down closer and closer, Devin made no effort in pushing him away. As his lips were lingering closer to her ear for a moment before going to the crown of her head. As he planted a kiss upon it. “Thank you for doing this love.” 

While Tyler backed away afterward he still lingered in front of her alongside the words he slipped. Before he put away the remainder of what he had gotten out. As Devin thought over what had just happened. While the affectionate pet name wasn’t the first one of that night yet for some reason Devin felt different about hearing it than she had before. 

It was almost as if she wanted to hear him say it again only to her. A sense of possessiveness came over Devin. Something she wasn’t used to having especially regarding Tyler. Snap out of it. He is only doing this to prove a point not because he feels that way towards you she thought as she attempted to ground herself back into reality. In order not to show how much this was getting to her. As she tried to think of a quick counter to his comment.

 “So is that all you got? Here I thought you were going to seduce me,” Devin stated trying to get it back on track without showing how much it was getting to her. As the slowest bit of desire and yearning was starting to arise.

  “What have I seduced you yet?”

 “Yes, take me now oh great seducer of woman. For only you can satisfy me,” Devin cried as Tyler stood still. Devin went so far as to fling her arms in an exaggerated movement. Yet for a moment Tyler’s eyes went dark as the smallest bit of desire and lust polled in. A temptation that Tyler didn’t take.

 “Be careful with those words,” he said in a more serious tone than he had all evening.

 “Why,” Devin asked.

 “Because some men might take that as an invitation to do whatever they please with you.”

 “And you are different from them?”

 “Yes, because I happen to know resistant.”

 “Says the man trying to seduce me.”

 “Which you agreed to if I recall.”

 “Yes because I know what I am getting into.”

 “Do you?”

 “I do.”

“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you pet,” Tyler said his tone more serious. Something that Devin assumed was a part of the bet.

 “Pet really? What am I in some dark Loki fanfiction?”

 “Would you like that?”

 “Not particularly.”

 “I thought so. So if I were you I would be careful.”

 “Whatever you say, lover boy. Now come on I would like to be seduced. So lead the way.”

 “Whatever you wish my dearest,” Tyler said with a mock bow as he took Devin's hand into his as began to lead her into the living room. The feeling of yearning and desire still lingered. As Devin tried to get it out of her mind. After all, he couldn’t possibly do anything more at least so she had thought. As she allowed herself to be led into the living room....

Present

The filling in of those gaps is starting to get longer and longer was the first thought that crossed Devin’s mind upon exiting her most recent memory. Yet still, there was a lingering desire that she felt. As if she was yearning for Tyler’s touch once more as towards the end of the memory was becoming alluring. Snap out of it Devin it was just a bet! Right she wondered as she paced around trying to keep the spicy bits of her memories to herself.

 Yet what would happen next was something that not even Devin could expect as she felt someone’s arms wrap closely around her waist. As a familiar husky scent was soon invading her senses. As Devin didn’t even need to look to know whose arms were now wrapped around her waist. As she allowed her head to slowly turn to face said man. “Seriously Tyler,” she asked in no mood for the jokes that she was expecting Tyler to play.

 “And a good morning to you sweetie,” Tyler responded his voice laced with fondness, a look of pure adoration covering his face. A look that went unnoticed by Devin as she thought this was another one of his jokes. 

 “Sweetie?”

 “Yes, what else am I supposed to call you after what happened last night.”

 “Yes, but of course,” Devin said choosing to go along with it until she found out what was going on. As she allowed herself to be swayed in Tyler’s arms. “Dancing?”

 “Why not?”

 “But so early in the morning?”

 “What did you have something else in mind dearest?”

 “Dearest?”

 “What do you want me to change your name?”

 “No but…”

 “But what?”

“I thought you didn’t like to do any of this thing.”

 “Yes, but I thought I would do something special for you after last night.”

 “So you are doing this for me?”

 “Yes, why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you don’t like this sort of thing.”

 “Yes but I’ll do just about anything for you. Even if it means this.”

“You would?”

 “Yes, I would. Why are you asking so many questions? Was I not clear last night?”

 “No, you were.”

 “Okay then what’s the problem,” Tyler asked very confusedly at what was happening.

 “Nothing.”

 “Okay, whatever you say…”

Tyler continued to hold onto Devin while she kept trying to figure out why Tyler was doing all of this. Surely this is him teasing me she thought. As she went along with Tyler at least until Tyler brought his hand to her cheek, rubbing it softly, and was about to touch her chin to lean her closer. At least until Devin swatted his hand away. Tyler not trying a second time but was wearing a confused look upon the action.

 “What do you think you are doing?”

 “What don’t you like it?”

 “No,” Devin said as she attempted to get out of Tyler’s hold. Upon doing this a look of hurt flashed in Tyler’s eyes. 

 “Because you weren’t saying that last night,” Tyler remarked far quieter than usual.

He must still be joking was the thought that crossed Devin’s mind rather than asking what he meant by that. This is what prompted Devin’s next response. “Well, things change.”

Another look of hurt could be seen flashing in Tyler’s eyes as he immediately withdrew his hands from her waist. Taking severe steps back away from Devin. “Do they?”

 “They do.”

 “I see.”

 “Good.”

 “Guess I can’t dote on my girlfriend today.”

 “Girlfriend?”

 “Yes.”

 “Me,” Devin remarked wearing a confused look. 

This is too far even for him was the first thought that crossed Devin’s mind upon hearing the news.

“Yes.”

 “You must be kidding me.”

 “I’m not.”

 “Come on this is too far even for you.”

“Too far what are you talking about?”

“This joke of yours?”

“Joke you think this is a joke,” Tyler asked as any reminder bit of affectionate connection he would’ve shared was withdrawn upon hearing this.

 “Why else would this be after last night?”

 “After last night?”

 “Yes.”

 “So did last night mean nothing to you,” Tyler asked as a look of hurt went clear onto his face which only served to confuse Devin more.

“Last night was a mistake that shouldn’t have happened.”

 “That’s what you thought it was?”

 “Yes, and if I had known that I wouldn’t have even agreed to that stupid bet,” Devin proclaimed louder than before.

 “Bet what bet,” Tyler asked his voice raising several volumes.

 “The one I made last night.”

 “You made a bet last night?!”

 “Yes, why are you acting like you didn’t know about it?”

 “Because I didn’t!”

 “Yes, you did.”

 “No, I didn’t or I wouldn’t be standing here confused.”

 “That makes two of us.”

“Seriously I  can’t believe you are acting like this over a stupid bet.”

 “Stupid bet?”

 “Yes because that’s all it was a stupid bet that got out of hand!!!”

 “NOT TO ME IT WASN’T!!!,” Tyler yelled.

 “PLEASE WE BOTH KNOW WHAT IT WAS!”

 “WE DO?!”

 “YES!”

 “WELL, CLEARLY I DON’T!”

 “I CAN SEE THAT!”

 “CLEARLY AND IF LAST NIGHT WAS SUCH A MISTAKE THEN YOU CAN LEAVE!”

 “MAYBE I WILL!” “FINE DO WHAT YOU WANT! JUST BE SURE THE DOOR DOESN’T HIT YOU ON THE WAY OUT!” “BECAUSE YOU WOULD LIKE THAT WOULDN’T YOU?!”

 “THINK WHAT YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT BUT I AM DONE WITH YOU!”

 “FINE!”

 “DOUBLE FINE SEE YOU NEVER!”

“SAME,” Devin yelled as Tyler then proceeded to storm out of the room with a huff leaving Devin to be alone in the room. Fuming over what had just happened. It was just a stupid bet so why did it end up this way she wondered?

[brittanytobiason]

"Hostile"

For Woeford's Insolvent. No CC

The household consists of seven sims

Family Inventory: Pedestrian Sculpting Station. It fits well outside in the weeds.

Expansion Packs Used: All Expansion Packs except Ambitions. No Stuff Packs.

I used Custard to check this sims3pack file before uploading.

Download "Hostile" sims3pack file

Plug Langford

All heart and elbows

young adult male

Traits: ambitious, inappropriate, kleptomaniac, schmoozer, light sleeper

Career: Art Appraiser 1: Eager Artist

Lifetime Wish: Possession is Nine Tenths of the Law

Inventory: an emperor cane

Expansion Packs Used: Late Night, University Life, Island Paradise

Download Plug Langford .sim file

Tyler Nix

Everything went wrong.

young adult female

Traits: adventurous, ambitious, lucky, rebellious, nurturing

Career: Sculptor 1: Questionable Potter

Lifetime Wish: Master Mixologist

Expansion Packs Used: Generations, Into the Future

Download Tyler Nix .sim file

Rhiannon Nix

She is like a cat in the dark, and then she is the darkness

young adult female

Traits: irresistible, loner, rebellious, natural cook, brave

Career: Fortune Teller 2: Fortune Guesser

Lifetime Wish: Master of Mysticism

Inventory: Orb of Answers

Expansion Packs Used: World Adventures, Late Night, Showtime, Seasons, University Life

Download Rhiannon Nix .sim file

Wex Belle Jun

Just a hungry baby

young adult male

Traits: athletic, social butterfly, natural born performer, technophobe, loser

Career: Acrobat 7: Master of Balance

Lifetime Wish: Master Acrobat

Expansion Packs Used: Late Night, Pets, Showtime.

Wex's everyday outfit is an acrobat career outfit that must be unlocked. If it does't show up, develop Wex as an acrobat and the outfit should unlock.

Download Wex Belle Jun .sim file

Willard Hayes

He has only his tenacity

teen male

Traits: brooding, childish, dramatic, handy

Expansion Packs Used: Supernatural, University Life

Download Willard Hayes .sim file

Walker Nix

But one he couldn't catch.

toddler male

Traits: good, disciplined

Expansion Packs Used: None

Download Walker Nix .sim file

Joe Neighbor

Too good to live.

young adult male ghost, fell from the sky

Traits: good, handy, animal lover, gatherer, good sense of humor

Career: Military 3: Grunt

Lifetime Wish: Become an Astronaut

Expansion Packs Used: World Adventures, Supernatural, Seasons

Download Joe Neighbor .sim file

All my downloads by sim

Thank you to simsmidgen for making and sharing Woeford, as well as to Norn, Ninjaofthepurplethings, Crowkeeperthesimmer, attuned, nocturnalazure, Ouerbacker and Potato-Ballad-Sims for your creativity and generosity.

For the Soothsayer's Crystal Ball: Blams EA Store Content

indispensable mods: Smooth Patch 2.1 by Lazy Duchess, Master Controller by Twallan, Master Controller Cheats by Twallan, CUSTARD by Tashiketh

Thank You Forever: Cink’s Sims, Quailhogs, MurfeeL, Norn and Crowkeeper, Nilxis, brntwaffles, simsmidgen, ninjaofthepurplethings, The Sweet Simmer, xantac, Blackgryffin and Tech-hippie.com

[wcrldcfvtlvs]

There's a sense of confusion but also curiosity as Onyx speaks. Of course, she wouldn't be Onyx without teasing which he can only roll his eyes at and let out a dry chuckle. Even after the total freak show that he put from rage, he did feel calm, relief, and a sense of euphoria that washed over him as Onyx feed on him and his emotions. There was a slight buckle of his knees before he adjusted to walk towards the seat Onyx tapped, there were very rare cases where Tyler sat on the other side of the bar, but after all the emotions that he experienced, sitting was starting to sound like a good idea.

Sliding into the bar stool, Tyler to the position of crossing his arms and allowing the limbs to support him on the counter. All he wanted to do was sleep, maybe reheat some left overs and crack open a cold one, despite never really liking beer, he'd become a wine drinker due to Victoria ( like he'd ever fucking admit that to Onyx, he could already hear jokes about joining a book club and sipping wine ), and maybe even throw on some Demon Slayer, he couldn't tell what was worse. Enjoying wine, or being like the typical guys online who enjoyed anime and got way too invested in the characters, Rengoku? That was his guy, and he wished that he was as optimistic as that Flame Hashira.

Pulling himself out of these thoughts, he listened to Onyx speak about how different he was compared to most people, how he tasted better, and that she came here, well in what he could understand, for him. As much as he wanted to dive deeper and maybe even compare himself to a fine-cooked dish, he'd accept the wine comparison. There's a faint and weak smile that he gives to her before listening further.

There's a deep laugh that erupts from Tyler as Onyx has to clarify compliments and how she doesn't give them unless there's something in it for her. " Don't worry, I won't get used to it, I know. " Tyler states before shaking his head and lightly tapping the counter. The tapping comes to a stop when Onyx offers to give him a taste of what she experiences. His brows knit together, once again, curiosity washed over him and he was sure Onyx could taste it, but he was sure she had more than enough of his emotions to last her the rest of the night.

Sitting up straight, Tyler rolls his shoulders back and gives a little head tilt at her offer. " You'd do that for me? " Tyler's voice almost cracked and he instinctively cleared his throat. " Is that, safe for you? " he pauses before concern comes in, shaking his head, he takes a moment to think. " Alright, might as well see what you're obsessed with. Give me what you got. "

To say she was startled at the healing would be an exaggeration, but it had certainly taken her by surprise. She's been wounded many times before, of course, during her long life, but rarely is she ever offered a quick out. There is almost a gratefulness in her at the sentiment, buried well within the ecstasy of the feeding.

He says he doesn't like himself like this and all she can think is how can he not? She understands, on a surface-level, that Tyler's morality operates under different rules from hers. She can sense in him the desire to keep everyone around him safe. But it is that very desire that she doesn't understand on a personal level. Danger draws the vampiress like no other. The edge of life is, through her eyes, the most intriguing and valuable side of it. The feelings it evokes not only within her targets, but within herself, are invaluable.

Then, she smells his concern. Directed not at the patrons anymore, for they have long evacuated, but towards herself, and there is almost a profound contradiction in how she feels about it. On the one hand, she doesn't view herself as one in need of that concern - she is as safe and as happy as could be at the moment. On the other, the feeling being directed towards her gives it a flavor that, despite her best efforts at avoiding it being so, falls with a sentimentality to it - evoking just a smidgen of the very same within her. She smiles, a teasing edge to the expression.

"Is that concern I'm smelling on you, Tyler?" she tilts her head the way she always does, hand still in his so as to continue to draw more of his anger into herself. It has calmed down enough for the glowing to halt and for her senses to return, but it's still vying for her attention. "Aw, hun, I'm flattered. It's almost adorable that you think hurting me matters much at all," her smile becomes genuine, "sometimes I like to feel a little pain. You could say it's nostalgic. It reminds me of a... certain time." she nods, closing her eyes to draw just a little more of his anger in before letting go.

"You don't understand, do you?" She slowly opens her eyes, now tinted back in their usual hue. "Your emotions are special to me, Tyler. Especially that beautiful, delectable rage of yours." She sits herself down, tapping the seat at her side in an invitation for Tyler to join.

"I don't come here for your patrons, hun, they're no different from a passer-by on the street or the occasional person I seduce and let down." She shakes her head. "I come here for your rage. It draws me. There is something about it that is so profoundly tethered to your very being that makes it one of a kind. Everyone's got rage in them, Tyler - hell knows I do - but yours is not just something you've got - it's part of your essence. That makes it- " she pauses to rephrase.

"It's like finely-aged wine. It simmers and fluctuates but never fades. And you might not always seem to know it, but sometimes it fuels your other emotions, too. Or invades them - betters them. Because what is rage if not a subset of passion? If you are capable of this high a degree of it - this personal and intrinsic a depth to it - then your other passions are bound to follow suit. Love, for example. When you cook, hun, you smell divine. And I don't even like the way love tastes or smells. Not on anyone but you and an old friend lost to time. That's how- how impressively and deeply yours runs. Your rage allows you that bandwidth which I have sensed in no other."

She leans against the counter, shaking her head a tad and reverting back to a less sentimental tone. "Trust me, Tyler, I'm not saying this to get on your good side or something. You know me. I prefer the bad one. I shudder to even think of complimenting anyone - especially when there's nothing in it for me. But- Wait." A bright idea interrupts her. She fixes her posture back to upright then leans his way. Her eyes wander down almost conspiratorially. "Do you wanna taste your rage the way I do?" She looks back up at him. "I think it's the only way you'll ever understand where I'm coming from."

[sleepyseguin]

tyler seguin | in the morning

summary: morning sex. that’s literally it. (slight mention of ch*king)

please feel free to message or request here! stay safe xo rose

It’s raining when you wake up. The windows have been left open, so the fresh, clean smells seeps in, the sound of it on the roof. The curtains blow in the breeze, brushing gently against the wood of the floorboards. You roll over, the rustle of bed sheets. Tyler’s hand slips off from where it was resting on your back with your movement, but you collect it quickly, slide it back over your hip. He smells like sleep where he absentmindedly moves closer, already awake. He’s on his phone, one arm propped up on a pillow to scroll through emails. You can tell by the quick, alert movements of his eyes as he reads he’s been awake for awhile, but has stayed relatively still to let you sleep longer. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re always startled awake by him leaving the bed. An unconsciousness knowing of him leaving your immediate space that disturbs your REM.

 “Hey,” you say, voice still thick with sleep. Your mouth tastes slightly stale. He smiles at the sound of your voice, dropping his phone to look at you.

 “Hey,” Tyler returns, hand slipping up from your hip to your ribcage, under his big t-shirt you’ve worn to bed.

 “What time is it?” You wonder, phone lost somewhere under the pillows from where you’ve dropped it while falling asleep the night before.

 “Just after nine,” he tells you. A Sunday. Off season. He’ll train this afternoon, but for now, the morning is peaceful and stretches before you. Tyler’s fingers continue to brush a slow rhythm of your ribcage, bump, bump, over bone.

 You hum happily. Plenty of time to laze around in bed. Maybe you’ll cook eggs for the two of you later. Make coffee with too much caramel in it. For now though, the rain patters outside, and Tyler’s legs are tangled with yours under the sheets.

 “Did you dream?” He asks, slipping down from where he’s propped himself up on pillows to be more at your level.

 “Don’t remember,” you reply, it was a deep, heavy sleep. The storm must have soothed you. The stupid amount of money spent on the mattress topper was meant to find some relief for Tyler’s back, but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the new level of relaxations it’s brought your sleeping habits.

 “Did you?”

 “Yeah,” Tyler says, the corner of his mouth crooking up in a smile. His hand has started to linger further up your chest, the swell of your breast.

 “What did you dream?”

 “Nothing that made sense,” he muses, “Was home but with people I didn’t know, but did know, you know?”

 “Yeah, weird feeling.”

Your hips push into the hard muscle of his thigh a little bit. He smiles, and pushes back.

 “You wanna unpack that?” You ask. You read a book once, about what dreams mean, but can’t for the life of you conjure up any form of memory of what it contained. Tyler laughs.

 “I think it was just a dream.” A thumb brushes your nipple.

 “Hmm, maybe.”

Your eyelids are heavy again, content. Being slightly felt up by a smiling boy, the pressure of his leg between yours.  The rustle of the curtains. The heavy duvet. It’s natural when Tyler turns his head, leans in. The softness of his mouth, the rough of his beard on your cheeks. He kisses slow, and lazily, enjoying the moment. It’s peaceful, the way he undresses you, kissing up the line of your abdomen as he pulls his own t-shirt over your shoulders. A recognising of your body, still favouring it even after being there so many times before.

 “You smell so good in the mornings,” he mumbles into your neck, a knee between your thighs as he presses you down into the mattress, half swallowed up by downy pillows. Your fingers tangle into his hair, curls around knuckles. He smells like boy, his own skin. Something pure, instinctually drawn to it.

 Tracing your hands down his back, feeling the movement of his shoulders as he wriggles you out of underwear, tossed behind him with a wolfish grin. His own underwear have already been lost. Perhaps he never even had any on.

 Soft sounds as you hook up like teenagers. Rumpled hair. Hands that can’t find a place to settle, on jaws, shoulders, backs, bums. Your fingers slip between you, finding him hot, and hard. Velvet skin. He moans quietly into your shoulder, the relief. You move your wrist slowly, easing into it. The anticipation is heavy between your legs, throbbing. Bodies still warm and soft from sleep.

 Quiet sounds as his own hand finds you, circling, pressing. Slowly at first. The suck of his fingers into his mouth, pink lips, pinker tongue. The dirty way he smiles as they sink back into you. Crooked just right. A rhythm well practiced.

 It almost feels wrong to curse in this quiet morning, but you can’t help yourself. Eyes fluttering closed. Hand around the strong muscle of his forearm so you can feel the tendons move as he works to make you feel good. Tyler shifts, and the warmth of him against your chest is lost. You open your eyes to protest, but find him looking up at you from down the bed, one of your legs already slung over a broad shoulder. His mouth is slick, and he’s grinning, not breaking eye contact as he licks into you.

 “Ty,” you whisper, unused voice still rough. Hands in his hair, pulling, guiding. His tattoos against the bare skin of your thighs. His free hand pressing your hip down into the bed, thick fingers splayed over your tummy. The sound of his mouth. The sound of the rain. Rustle of sheets. Your own sighs, murmurs of his name, of encouragement.

 You come with his mouth on you, a leg thrown along his back. The heat of the room almost too much, relieved by the cold breeze. Tyler doesn’t let you breathe, fingers still moving inside you as you roll into him, chasing the feeling.

 “You taste so good,” he tells you, jaw moving against your thigh. Your fingers grasp at his shoulders, blushing.

 “Come here,” you ask, pretending to pull him up even though you’re both well aware you’d have no luck moving the bulk of him. He crawls up you gracefully, hard against your tummy. You angle yourself for him, wet from his mouth so that he sinks in easily. Tyler groans as he settles, curly hair in his eyes, half on his knees as he pushes deep, your legs wrapped around his waist.

 He uses one hand to brace himself on the headboard, the other cupping your head up from the pillows, half tangled in your hair as it falls out of it’s bun. The first pull out and push back in, achingly slow and carefully timed to make it as lovely as possible for both of you. It’s frustrating, how good he is at this.

 You get to watch the way his body moves in the morning light, the heaving breath in his chest, the muscles in his arms as he finds a rhythm, strong and powerful. Like a Greek God, carved from marble. His free hand slips to your breast, rough, pinching your nipple, good, so good, sogood. Tyler bows his head over you, blown pupils, watching the way he slides into you, over and over again.

 “I’m gonna come again,” you gasp, reaching up for him, feeling him drop lower, releasing the headboard to scoop you up against him, skin to skin, hot and panting.

 His hand, rubbing where he moves into you. Fingers around your throat, angling your face so he can kiss you as you come, moans swallowed up by him. He grinds out a curse, pushing harder, deeper.

 “Gonna come,” he rasps, and your hands pull at his back, his hair, sensations for him to shiver through as he drops his head into your neck, the final few desperate rocks of his body. Your name groaned against your neck, warm inside you.

 It’s still raining, harder even. It takes a second for your breath to settle, the weight of his body to become unpleasant. He seems to realise the exact moment it does, rolling to the side, pulling one of your legs with him to sling over his waist. You’ll need to clean up soon, start the day, maybe even close the windows before the house gets too cold. For now though, the rain pours.