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danydragons21 · 2 years ago

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The Shadows That Sing: Chapter 28

Read it on ao3 here.

Chapter 28: Words

“You look like shit,” Cassian observed.

Azriel grimaced. “Thanks.”

“If anyone in this room has an excuse to look shitty, it’s me. You know, the one who quite literally came back from the dead,” Cassian said.

The latter part of his sentence had Nesta, who was curled up on his other side reading a book, whipping her head up to glare at him, the mere mention of his near-death experience sending a tangible rush of distress through her. Cassian patted her hand placatingly. She refocused her attention back on the book, though every once in a while she would shoot her mate a suspicious glance out of the corners of her narrowed, blue-gray eyes.

“Instead,” Cas continued, “well, you know how I look,” he smirked, gesturing to the healthy flush of his skin. “I look absolutely incredible.”

“If I had a gold coin for every time you’ve said that in the past 48 hours, we could move out of the House of Wind and buy a new mansion.” Nesta said dryly.

Azriel would never admit it to Cassian—his brother needed no extra boost to his confidence—but he did look incredible. His complexion was glowing. His eyes were vibrant and clear. Even the muscles beneath his sun-darkened skin looked stronger and more robust. It was nearly impossible to imagine that only a few days ago, he had been on his deathbed. Now he could very well enter a male beauty contest—and win. He was a living, breathing, walking and talking miracle.

And the shadowsinger was one of only two people who knew just how that miracle came about. And the other person—the miracle-maker herself—was avoiding him like the plague.

Hence why he looked like shit. In the two days since Cassian’s recovery, Azriel hadn’t even seen Elain, let alone spoken to her. Every time he recalled the horrible things he’d said when they were last face-to-face - which he thought about, oh, every other minute or so - guilt and regret threatened to pull him under.

“And you’re being useless, like always.”

Gods. He didn’t deserve to live after saying that. Or maybe he did deserve to live and have to forever replay the utter devastation that had splashed across her face following his ugly declaration. That seemed like a fair way to pay his penance.

After she’d left him in the den, he’d wallowed in misery for a few moments before visiting Cassian, confirming for himself that his friend was going to make a full recovery, and drawing up a chair next to his sick bed. He’d barely left his side since, spending nearly every second with him and Nesta in the infirmary.

Azriel would like to pretend this commitment stemmed solely from being a good friend and wanting to ensure Cassian remained healthy, but that would be a lie. The truth was that he was avoiding Elain just as much as she was avoiding him.

He’d fucked up—royally—and he didn’t know how to fix it. He didn’t even know how to begin . Words had never been his strong suit, and he didn’t know how to adequately explain how incredibly and deeply sorry he was while also begging for forgiveness and ensuring her that he had not meant anything he’d said.

Because he hadn’t meant it, not even a little bit. She was anything but useless; she was as bright as the stars in the sky; she was everything . The hurtful words he’d said had been nothing more than an awful defense mechanism. A rudimentary and cruel way to attempt to guard his heart from any more breaking. Even in his head, though, the explanation sounded pathetic and not nearly good enough.

So he had not even tried to find her yet, because he was unable to stomach seeing her and experiencing her cold shoulder. Or her apathy. Or the wounded hurt in her eyes. Worst of all, he had a nagging fear that the next time he saw her, she was going to end—going to end whatever this thing was between them. And despite thinking only days ago that the culmination of their relationship was inevitable, he found that the thought of letting her go right now was utterly unbearable.

If she couldn’t speak to him alone, though…well, then she couldn’t end it. And so here he was, camping out in the Manor’s hospital wing like a coward and impeding on Cassian and Nesta’s privacy.

“So, Azriel, do you still want to have a threesome with us?”

He blinked, sure that he did not hear Nesta right. But no, she and Cassian were staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to reply.

“...What?”

“See, I told you he wasn’t listening,” Cassian nudged Nesta. “Pay up, Archeron.”

She scowled. “ I told you he wasn’t listening, you brat. Are you sure there aren’t any unfortunate side effects from this so-called near death experience? You seem to be dumber than usual.”

A grin spread across Cassian’s face. “There aren’t any unfortunate side effects, no. However, I can tell you there are some fortunate side effects, my sweet little mate,” he said, tugging Nesta closer to him. “Such as a renewed virility and an entirely new desire to—”

“I have NEVER said I wanted to have a threesome with the two of you!” Azriel said loudly. He could feel his cheeks burning.

Nesta rolled her eyes good-naturedly and lightly separated herself from Cassian (though only by a few inches, and if Azriel wasn’t so entirely avoiding her icy-blue gaze, he would have noticed that her cheeks were rather red, too). “We made a bet,” she said.

Azriel opened his mouth, gaping wordlessly like a fish out of water for a few seconds. “What does that have to do with a threesome?” he choked out.

With a great roar, Cassian burst out laughing and, in typical-Cassian fashion, started rolling around. Nesta giggled, a very not-typical-Nesta thing to do.

Azriel glowered at them.

“Oh, stop pouting,” Nesta said. “We made a bet on if you were listening to us or not. When it quickly became apparent that you were in a world all of your own, it just escalated into saying the most outlandish things until you finally registered that we were speaking to you.” She shrugged. “You really need to work on your awareness skills.”

Well. That was a humiliating thing to hear as the Spymaster of the Night Court.

“We’re just playing with you, Az,” said Cassian, “but we know you’re hiding out here for some reason.”

Azriel did his best not to give any reaction, but it didn’t matter. His friends had already seen through his flimsy mask of security to what he really was: a distracted, heartbroken fool.

Leaning over, Cassian gave Azriel’s shoulder a rough, encouraging pat. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. We’re here if you need us. You can third-wheel with us anytime you want, buddy.”

“And do let us know about that threesome,” Nesta said off-handedly, returning to her book.

Azriel shook his head. “Sometimes I can’t tell if she’s joking or not,” he said to Cassian under his breath.

His friend nodded in understanding. “I know. It’s scary, right?”

“Thank you,” Nesta said as she turned the page.

Azriel’s shadows suddenly started swirling around him. One sidled up to his ear and whispered. The High Lady approaches with urgent news.

“Feyre is coming. ” he told Cassian and Nesta. The latter frowned.

“How do you know?” she asked.

He sent her a funny look. “My shadows told me.” Of course , he wanted to add, but didn’t.

But Nesta continued to look disturbed. “I thought your shadows couldn’t hear in the Mortal Manor,” she said slowly.

It was like an icicle to the heart, sharp in the way his panic hit, melting in the way it cascaded throughout his veins, putting all of his other senses on high alert. He’d forgotten, for a moment, that his shadows could not hear within the Manor; their whispers were a sixth sense to him at this point.

Except she was right. Until this very moment, he’d never been able to hear his shadows while inside the Manor. Because of…

Instinctively, he stood up.

“Shit,” Cassian exhaled deeply through his nose.

Shit was right.

***

Sometime over the last week, autumn had faded into winter; there were nearly no leaves left on any of the trees, and every morning a thin dusting of frozen dew coated the grounds. Elain usually hated the cold, but for the past two days, the chilly and barren woods had become her solace. Her sanctuary.

She’d spent hours on end finding dead plants and occasionally animals and testing her powers on them. The plants were easy to bring back to life; the animals were not. It made sense; animals were that much more complex, and healing an injured living creature was not nearly as difficult as completely reviving a dead one. Yesterday, though, she’d had some luck reviving a frozen butterfly, so she knew she was improving.

It annoyed her as much as it pleased her that she found mastering her healing magic so much easier than her seer powers, though that, too, made sense to her. Healing was brought forth by love and positive energy; well, Elain had so much love. Sometimes she thought she loved too much.

Summoning visions, on the other hand, required her to shut off the emotions that came so naturally to her. And while usually this was a difficult feat in and of itself…ever since Azriel had so cruelly cut her down with words in the den, she’d found it nearly impossible to close off her emotions. Found it nearly impossible to feel anything but wretched hurt and anger and betrayal.

How dare he? How dare he say those barbed words to her? He, who more than anyone else, knew just how deep those words would slice at her confidence. She would never have believed the male could say something so callous. And so untrue. Because Elain was not dense enough to take Azriel’s insult seriously. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d brought his best friend back from the brink of death only a few days ago, but she knew without a doubt that she was not useless. And she wasn’t going to let some stupid, insensitive, and annoyingly sexy bat tell her otherwise.

She just wished she didn’t miss him so much. She hadn’t realized how much better she'd been sleeping with Azriel beside her until sleeping next to him was an impossibility. Now, he haunted her dreams like all the other ghosts of her past.

Ugh . She scowled at herself. She had far more important things to do with herself than wallow in pity over the potential demise of her relationship with the shadowsinger.

For the past two days, Lucien had been urging her to tell the rest of her court about her newfound powers. She had to admit that he had a point. Ever since Cassian’s “miraculous” healing, everyone had been coming up with theories for how he could have possibly survived such a terminal wound. Each was more ridiculous than the last.

At first the theories had been relatively plausible. Rhys had suggested that Koschei had never meant to kill Cassian; that his injury was only supposed to push him to the brink of death before whatever magic the death lord possessed pulled him back to the edge of safety.

“He wants to remind us that he’s in control,” the High Lord had said grimly.

Now though, days after the fact, the theories had gotten utterly unhinged. Jurian had gone so far to suggest that Cassian was not healed at all and instead was a puppet for Koschei to spy on them all. When Mor came to visit briefly, she’d mused aloud on if Cassian was descended from a rare breed of Fae that possessed miraculous healing properties in their blood.

“They’re practically invincible,” Mor said, her eyes shining. “That would explain why you’ve survived so many wars while being on the front lines.”

“Yeah, because it can’t just be the fact that I’m the best warrior in Prythian,” replied Cassian in an offended tone.

Elain crept quietly out of the room after that because she was worried the guilty look on her face would give her away.

She was running out of reasons not to tell the rest of her court and family about her healing powers. In fact, she only had one reason remaining, and it wasn’t a very good one: she just didn’t want to. Not until she was perfectly adept with her magic, at least. It was stupid, but when she finally told the others, she wanted it to be on her terms, and she wanted to be fully capable of healing in every which way. She just couldn’t take any more pitiful looks that implied she was a burden rather than an asset.

First things first: Elain needed a plan of action. And what better way to plan than to see into the future? Sure, she hadn’t had much luck purposefully summoning visions lately…but there was a nagging feeling in Elain’s stomach that told her she had to keep trying. That told her it was imperative that she keep trying. Almost like time was running out, if she was to be that melodramatic and foreboding.

She sat cross-legged on a small tree stump and closed her eyes. Took a deep, controlling breath.

What do I want to see? What do I need to see?

Behind her, a twig snapped. She whipped around, heart thundering in her chest. Her sharp Fae eyes caught a small mouse darting across the forest floor, and she whooshed out a half-frustrated, half-relieved sigh.

“Focus,” she ordered herself. Slowly, she felt her taut muscles relax as a soothing numbness consumed her. Hollowed her. Carved her into a vessel for whatever visions would come her way.

What do I want to see? What do I need to see?

I want to see what to do next , she thought. I need to see the path I must take. The path to where, she was not sure…but she was starting to understand that fortune telling was not an etching of set events into stone; human nature was too fickle for that, too inconstant and dynamic. To be a seer was not to predict with certainty that which was too far away to consider: it was to let the next step in the path be illuminated.

And with that revelation, a vision came to her immediately.

She was sitting at a long table, tomes haphazardly stacked atop the surface, and was flipping through one of the books with a look of deep concentration on her face. Beside her was Lucien, who was also scouring a thick volume. They were in a library, though that word was far too simple to describe the gorgeous room, with its dark wooden interior and intricate gold detailings and arching windows that revealed the most stunning view of a cloudless cerulean sky and puffy white clouds. The rays of sun beaming into the room had never seemed so bright, so pure.

The red-haired male beside her excitedly pointed to a passage in the book he was reading. “This could be—oh, never mind,” Vision-Lucien murmured disappointedly, shaking his head. Vision-Elain gave him a sympathetic look and turned back to her own tome.

The loud cawing of a bird jolted her from the vision. Crisp and cool air stung her eyes as they opened. The bleak winter sun traversing through the nearly-barren branches seemed much dimmer than the brilliant light in her vision. A rush of clarity seared through her.

She knew what she had to do next.

***

If Elain hadn’t been so preoccupied with her most recent vision, she would have noticed how ominously quiet the Manor was upon entering. As it was, her head was so entirely filled with what she’d just seen that she barely noticed where she was going. It wasn’t until she was mere feet away from the throne room that she realized where she was; a moment later she registered Lucien's deep voice sounding from behind the arched doors. Huh. Her subconscious must have led her straight to the person she wanted to talk to.

Perhaps she should have been a little more aware of her surroundings and registered that there were other voices inside the room, as well. Instead, she barged straight in, throwing the double doors wide open in her haste, and strode right for Lucien.

“We need to talk,” she told him. He blinked down at her in surprise.

“What?” he asked after a moment, his voice strangely hoarse.

“We need to talk,” she repeated, more urgently this time. “I just had a vision.”

“Elain.” It was Nesta who had spoken. The eldest Archeron sister wrung her hands nervously. “Elain, something has happened.”

Her heart slowed. Glancing around the throne room, she fully registered the others who stood around them—her sisters and their mates, Jurian and a few select soldiers from the legion he commanded. They all wore the same grim and melancholy expression, made even more somber in the dim light from the flickering torches that lined the walls.

And there, nearly in the corner, half-ensconced in the darkness, was the Spymaster. She couldn’t make out his face—she didn’t allow her gaze to linger on him to seek out his expression—but she could sense his anxiety from the way his shadows tensed and pulsed around him.

“What happened?”

Silence. When Jurian let out a small sniff, her heart started back up again, racing far too fast.

“If someone doesn’t tell me what’s wrong this instant—”

“It’s Vassa,” Lucien croaked. “Her curse has returned.”

She clapped a hand over her mouth. Dread was a living thing that moved inside her body; it slithered through her, cold and damning. Despite all the anger she’d harbored toward the mortal queen these past few weeks, all she felt now was pure and utter panic. Not Vassa, no, he couldn’t take her, he couldn’t have her, and oh gods, she was supposed to save her friend, this was her fault, she hadn't tried hard enough, she had not been enough —

“Koschei took her?” she asked fearfully.

“No,” Feyre said, shaking her head, blue eyes full of sorrow. “She has not been made to return to the Lake—yet. But she has been forced back into firebird form during sunlit hours.”

Breathing became slightly easier. Vassa was still here; she had not been taken by Koschei. Thank the gods. And yet the fact that her firebird curse had returned did not bode well for any of them, least of all the queen.

“Where is she?” Elain asked, her voice scarcely louder than a whisper. Oh, Vassa. Brave and bold Vassa, trapped inside a body that was not her own. An immense pressure bore down upon Elain’s heart.

“She’s circling the grounds.”

As one, they looked out the massive windows overlooking the grounds. There, in the distance, high above the trees, flew a large avian creature. It was colored with brilliant crimson and gold plumage. As they watched, the bird emitted a heartbreaking cry. She immediately recognized it as the call that had roused her from her earlier vision. The lament seemed to echo throughout Elain’s very being, a chilling and sorrowful song that rattled her bones with its intensity.

“What do we do?” Jurian asked.

“There is nothing we can do right now,” said Rhys. “It seems the only way to free Vassa of the curse is to destroy Koschei. Our best chance of doing that is to wait until the ball, when we can put our plan into action. I know that’s not the answer you want to hear, but…” he trailed off as Lucien started pacing furiously, his hands cupping the back of his neck, the scent of his frustration clouding the room.

He spun around and pointed at Elain.

“I thought you were supposed to be helping her.” His good eye was bright with rage.

Shock rendered her silent for a moment. “What?” she finally replied.

“You were supposed to use your powers to find a way to rid her of this horrible enchantment,” he said loudly, voice shaking. “To figure out how the hell we can stop Koschei.”

“Lucien,” said Feyre, her voice low with warning. “Stop. Your frustration is misplaced.”

What the fuck was with all these alpha-Faes thinking they could yell at her? Well, she’d had enough. “As a matter of fact,” Elain cut in angrily, “I just had a vision that told me what our next step should be. Now can I share it, or do you have any more unfair and unfounded accusations to throw my way?”

Everyone blinked. Lucien’s face turned nearly as red as his hair as he took an embarrassed step backward, averting his eyes.

A few moments of awkward silence passed. “Well, what was your vision, Elain?” Jurian asked breathlessly.

She relayed the details quickly.

“I was with you?” Lucien asked once she’d finished.

“Yes,” Elain replied shortly, not bothering to look at him.

“This library,” Rhys mused, “do you know where it is?”

“I’ve never been there before...but yes, I think I know where it is. I believe it’s at the Day Court.”

“The Day Court?”

“Yes. It’s just a hunch, but it feels right.”

Rhys hesitated before continuing on. “May I take a look inside your mind and confirm? I’ve been to the Day Court library before, you see.”

She eyes her brother-in-law with thinly-veiled suspicion. Did she really want to give him permission to sift through her memories? There were some things she’d rather he never see (and a lot of them involved her sex life with a certain someone). But at this point, Elain knew her mental magic was good enough that she’d be able to put up a decent fight. Besides, as misguided and arrogant as he could be, she didn’t think Rhys was cruel enough to invade her most private thoughts.

Nodding once at Rhys, she relaxed and lifted the mental barriers inside her head. His eyes focused elsewhere; a moment later, he blinked. “Yes. That is the Day Court library. You are clearly meant to find something important there.”

She nodded back in agreement. “I don’t know how exactly it will help Vassa, but I know that it’s going to,” Elain said, and saying the words out loud had her feeling even more sure of their truth. “I just can’t see the end result yet. Which means I need to go to the Day Court. And you,” she turned to fix her gaze at Lucien, a little unwillingly, “have to come with me.”

Lucien’s mouth dropped open. “Me?”

Elain frowned. “Yes, you. No one else was in the vision.”

“Oh, right,” he said, ducking his head.

Gods. And she was the useless one? Resisting the urge to throw something, Elain continued in a steady voice, “With your permission, High Lord and High Lady, and of course the blessing of Lord Helion, I would like to visit the Day Court as soon as possible. With Lucien, too, if he agrees to come,” she added.

“I’ll come,” he said quickly.

“The Day Court?” Feyre said, and perhaps Elain was imagining it, but she thought she detected a hint of nervousness in her sister’s voice. “Just the two of you?”

Rhys sent his mate a loaded glance. What the hell is going on? Elain thought, bemused.

Then a deep voice spoke from the far end of the room, effectively stealing all of her attention. “If you need someone else to go, I’m happy to accompany Elain, as well,” the Spymaster said.

She stiffened, her gaze flicking to where Azriel leaned against the far wall, wearing his shadows like a second-skin. Even in the semi-darkness, his glowing hazel eyes were piercing as ever, and they were directed straight at her. She hated her traitorous heart for stopping mid-beat in her chest.

“I don’t think Elain and I need a chaperone, but thanks for the offer,” Lucien said. Still caught in Azriel’s intense gaze, she watched as his expression turned dark and dangerous (or, well, darker and more dangerous than usual).

“Careful, Vanserra” the shadowsinger warned quietly. Elain would never admit it, but the deep, raspy timbre of his voice made her unnaturally hot between the legs.

“Or what?” Lucien sneered.

“Knock it off, you two,” Nesta snapped.

The two males immediately obeyed her elder sister and went silent, but the daggers they glared at each other were as sharp as ever.

Now Elain was more than annoyed. She was ready to be done with this conversation.

Taking a deep breath, she collected herself, then faced Rhys and Feyre. “Well? May we go?”

Apparently the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court had already discussed the matter mind-to-mind.

“Yes. You may go. I’ll reach out to Helion at once,” Feyre answered. “I am sure he will be more than fine with it.” Once again, there was a guarded expression on her sister’s face that Elain could not quite comprehend. She’d have to ask her about it later. “Upon receiving Helion’s blessing, you, Lucien and I will depart for the Day Court immediately.”

“You’re coming with us?” she asked in surprise.

“I have other matters to discuss with Helion, so yes, I’ll be joining you.”

Well, that was a relief. If she was going to have a third companion, Feyre was a much preferable option than Azriel. She felt sick even thinking about the sheer awkwardness of trying to make conversation with Azriel and Lucien together. Hells . She shook off the disturbing thought.

“The Day Court is one of the safest places in the realm, but it’s often in the safest places that we let our guards down,” said Rhys. “Don’t do that. Always be on alert. Keep mental notes of anything odd you notice. And most importantly..don’t do anything risky.”

Elain nodded her acquiescence, pretending she didn’t notice the worried look Nesta sent her way.

Clapping her hands together, Feyre said, “Well, I’m going to get a message to Helion. I’ll let him know this is urgent business. Elain and Lucien, I’d go pack a bag immediately. Chances are Helion will reply in the next hour or so, and we have no time to waste.”

She started to nod again when a thought occurred to her. “If we leave before Vassa…transforms back,” she swallowed down the emotion stuck in her throat, “will you tell her where we went? Will you tell her that we’ll be back soon?”

It was Jurian who replied. “Of course.”

She wished she could be there when the queen returned from her cursed form, but perhaps it was for the best. Elain knew Vassa, and she knew that her prideful and spirited friend would likely not want to speak to anyone for a while.

“One more thing,” said Rhys. “Make sure you wake up before the sun rises.”

“Why so early?” she asked before she could help herself.

A small smile tugged at Rhys’ lips. “Believe me. You won’t want to miss the sunrise in the Day Court.”

***

She felt him before she saw him.

“You know, most people would call appearing unannounced in someone’s bedroom an invasion of privacy,” she said, not bothering to pause in her folding of garments as she packed a small bag for her trip. Feyre had informed her just a few minutes ago that Helion had gotten their message and invited them to the Day Court. They’d be leaving as soon as the clock struck noon.

“It’s only an invasion of privacy if it’s an unwelcome visit.”

She huffed out a humorless laugh. “If you’re waiting on me to invite you in, you’ll be waiting a while, I’m afraid.”

A heavy silence. “Elain,” he said eventually, deep and demanding. “Look at me.”

No , she wanted to say. No, I can’t look at you, because then I might consider forgiving you, and I’m far too hurt and angry to do that right now. Instead, she said nothing at all.

“Please, Elain,” he said raspily. Her heart seized up and this time, she did pause in her tasks. How could she not when the ring of genuine regret and apology in his voice threatened to melt down her walls of resistance?

He spoke again. “I messed up.”

She nodded slowly, still facing the other way. “Yes.”

“I’m so sorry, Elain. You have to know I didn’t mean it. Even if you can’t forgive me, you have to know that.”

She let out a long sigh. The thing was, she did know that. She knew he didn’t mean what he’d said—but he had meant to hurt her. And that intentionality was what gnawed at her heart the most.

“Yes, I know that,” she said finally, turning to face him.

The wintry afternoon sunbeams shining through the window reflected beautifully against his eyes. It made the deep green warmer; made the gold flecks brighter. He was so beautiful, standing there in his shadows and his sorrow. He was so beautiful, and yet she was still so angry with him that it physically hurt.

“Do you forgive me?”

She smiled sadly. “I didn’t say that.”

He made a pained sound in the back of his throat. “Is that why you are going to the Day Court with him?” he asked, and there was a desperation to his tone that she’d never heard before. “Are you doing it to punish me?”

Shock had her taking an instinctive step backward. “When have I ever done something to purposely hurt you?” she asked incredulously. “When have I not had your back? I’m on your team , Azriel. I always have been, and I have always acted with your best intentions at heart. Meanwhile, you’re tailoring your words to hit me where it will hurt me most, and even worse, you are doubting me! Doubting us .”

He flinched.

She let out a frustrated sigh. “We have less than a month before the ball. Vassa’s curse has returned. Koschei is coming for us. We are running out of time. Everything I am doing is what I believe must be done in order for us to survive the coming storm. I have no ulterior motives.” A pause. “And you have to know I would never hurt you like that. Not intentionally.” Her voice went so low it might as well have been a whisper. “I care for you far too much.”

Anticipation was a restless beating in her chest as she waited—and hoped, and wanted, and wished—for his response to be something substantial, something she could grasp on to. But after several moments of silence, it became apparent that she would wait in vain.

Swallowing down the crushing disappointment, she returned to her packing, hoping he didn’t see her shaking hands. “I’ll see you when I return.”

In the span of a breath, he was behind her and spinning her around to face him.

“Please, wait a second,” he said, low and urgent, “I don’t want to leave it like this.”

“We don’t always get what we want,” she snapped back. A vein in his jaw twitched, and she had the sudden urge to flick it.

“Tell me what you want,then,” he begged. “What do you want me to do? What do you want, ‘Lain?”

His hands were still on her shoulders, holding her in place, and she seemed to register it at the same time as him. Their eyes met.

“I want…” she breathed, trailing off as the familiar wave of desire flooded her senses.

She didn’t know who moved first; maybe they moved at exactly the same time, the way they always have, as if drawn together by an invisible magnet, but suddenly his body was mere centimeters away. And then, a beat later, his chest was flush against her own, warm and solid and sculpted like a statue, and her back was arching as one of his hands found the small of her back and the other cradled her face, and the heady, familiar scent of him made her as lightheaded as southern wine—

Gods. Gods . How could it still be like this? She thought her desire for Azriel would have been quenched at this point. Somewhat sated, at the very least. And not only because of their recent argument, but because they’d been sleeping together for over a month now—often and consistently—and yet…and yet she still wanted him just as much as before. Her pulse still skyrocketed at his very proximity. She still ached for him, all the time; ached for all of him to be intertwined with all of her.

But she wouldn’t really have him , would she? She would have his kisses. His demands and praises. She would have the singular feeling of his keen, intoxicating gaze devouring her body, worshiping her with his eyes. She would have the indescribable comfort and safety his presence brought her. Yes, Elain supposed, she would have all of that.

As long as it was behind closed doors.

Azriel leaned forward, pushing his forehead against hers. “I’m not good with my words,” he murmured. “I don’t…I don’t know how to fix this. But I want to. Desperately.” His hot, sweet breath ghosted over her ear, then traveled down the curve of her jaw, and Elain had to bite her lip to keep from whimpering. “So please, tell me what I can say to make this better. Tell me what to say and I’ll say it.”

He was looking at her so fiercely, so sincerely, that she considered—just for a moment—giving in. But the feeling was as fleeting as it was dangerous.

Gently, she disentangled herself from his embrace and took a step back. His arms fell limply to his side.

“You are not as bad with words as you think,” she said, not unkindly. “You knew what you were saying the other day.”

Pain crashed across his face. He opened his mouth at the same time the clock struck noon, and then the manor was filled with the usual clanging of bell chimes. When the bellowing echoes finally ceased, Elain spoke.

“I have to go,” she said.

He nodded stiffly, that vein in his jaw still working.

“When you get back, we’re going to have a talk. I promise, El. Yeah? A talk, just you and me.”

She nodded, throat too tight with emotion to speak. Gave him as genuine of a smile as she could muster, but she could tell that it was a weak attempt.

Something visceral flashed in his eyes, but before she could decipher it he was stepping back into his shadows. “Have a good trip,” he said, expression unreadable, the vulnerable male she’d seen just moments ago gone completely. “I’ll see you soon.” A pause, and then, like he couldn’t help himself: “Be safe, Elain. Please.”

He vanished. She swallowed down the lump in her throat. Smoothed out a crease on her gown. Slung her pack over her shoulder and exited the room.

She had a mission to complete.

And while she was at it, she hoped she got to pet a pegasus or two.

TAGS (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed from the list)

@sakurakittypeach @shedoessoshedoes @courtofjurdan @lesolehabitantdelalune @suntoksabuwan @sweet-pea1 @ireneherondale24@supernaturallynerdy @dreaming-of-azriel @bookstaninthesoul @cuppamelia @fawnandshadows @offtorivendell @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @nikethestatue @reverie-tales @nyaxxe @casuallivi @protectorofvel @briar-reads @creatureofnightmares @swankii-art-teacher @the-laughing-bubble @gracie-rosee @cntrol @magnolia-blossom87 @ela-ivp @potassium-boron @freepandahugs @karomdr-blog @athena-85 @justreallybored

#tsts #theshadowsthatsing #elriel #elrielfic #elrielfanfic #azriel #elain #acotar #acotarfic #post acosf #elriel fanfic #nessian #feysand

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flamehairedwritings · 4 years ago

Note

hi! could you do some hcs about hopper and his gf going to a fancy event and him being all handsy?

I’m so sorry this has taken so long!! Thank you so much for requesting this, I hope you’re doing okay!

NSFW below the cut!

Hopper hates going out.

Actually, hate is a strong word.

He hates going somewhere he doesn’t know. He doesn’t like going out. If he could, he’d hole up in his trailer until the end of time with beer, his record player, crime novels and a TV.

That was before he met you. When he did... well, he kind of started to like going out, as long as it was with you. In your first few months of dating, you went to the cinema, to restaurants, to shops, to his favourite bar, over to his colleagues’ houses for BBQs and dinners and he found that maybe, slightly, a little bit, sometimes, he enjoyed himself. As long as you were back at his or yours by midnight.

‘oKaY CiNdErElLa’ you are oft to say as he pulls his jacket on and eyes up the door.

The Hawkins City Hall Gala is an event that happens every year, once a year to celebrate the bravest and best of Hawkins, with some citizens invited who are honoured, and officials and those from the police, hospital and fire department also in attendance. It sounds fancy? It isn’t. As much as Mayor Kline likes to put on a show, get all those invited dressed up to the nines and free champagne going, it’s just an adult version of a school awards assembly.

Hopper has to go. Has to. When he once tried to decline, Kline sent a huge gift basket to his trailer and to the Station every day until he called and said ‘ACTUALLY YES I WILL COME’.

Usually he goes with his work buddies and they bring their wives or girlfriends and they’ll hang around in a corner drinking and eating until the awards ceremony starts and then they’ll all sit together at the back bored out of their minds.

You’ve been dating for nearly six months when it comes round to it, and he invites you, in the way that Hopper would invite.

‘It’s just a shitty little ego parade thing for Kline, some people are good there, they deserve the awards sometimes, but more often than not it’s just some kids and old people gettin’ ‘em for living a long time or doing the most paper rounds or some shit like that, but the food’s good and the drinks are free ‘cause Kline wants everyone to have a good time and it finishes at about 11 and then there’s the after-party which is usually shitty, too, so we can just come home or go to a bar with the guys and their girls or just come home, I don’t mind.’

‘... So do you want me to come.’

‘Yeah. If you’re not busy or have anything better to do ‘cause really it is so shitty─’

‘I’ll come.’

‘You sure? It’s really shitty, it’s just the worst─’

‘Stop, I’m coming.’ you will be

On the night, you’ll be dressed up to the nines like everyone else, wearing your favourite outfit, which also happens to be Hop’s favourite outfit on you, but he likes anything on you so it doesn’t exactly count, and he’s in a suit, one hand in his pocket, the other holding yours.

After being greeted by Kline and his wife on the steps, the Mayor’s constant grin verging on maniacal, Hop’ll make a beeline for the nearest drinks and you’ll just have caught up with him when he’s heading to a corner, his colleagues already there with their partners. They’ll have hoarded some food and beer and champagne bottles already and you’ll resign yourself to the not so terrible idea of just hanging out here all night.

Hop’s hand will settle on your lower back and a conversation with start up about the food or the drink or Kline, in hushed tones, and that’ll be it.

Except you start to feel Hopper’s hand drifting down a little.

And then a lot.

Your back is to the wall, so no one can see, but you’re very much hoping no one notices your slightly widening eyes, your lips parting then quickly closing, and the hitching in your breath.

Hopper, on the other hand, is cool as a cucumber, nodding and carrying out a conversation with Powell without missing a beat. His hand is now fully cupping your ass, fingers splaying and gently caressing. You have to fight very hard to stop your back from arching.

You bastard...

What is it about him and his touch that has you turned on in seconds?

His fingers drift lower, sliding in until they’re near your covered pussy, and damn him...

Your attention is drawn away, momentarily, by someone standing at the other end of the room calling for everyone’s attention. As the preliminary speeches start, your little group quietens, but Hopper’s hand doesn’t move.

It slides even closer, his fingers caressing in slow, light circles.

You have to fight so hard to keep your breathing even, your hands clasped tightly in front of you.

Hopper shifts his stance slightly, his head leaning down, and he murmurs into your ear so only you can hear;

‘I bet you’re wet already, aren’t you.’

Oh, fuck.

Clearing your throat, you smile politely at your group and excuse yourself quietly, saying you need to use the restroom. Hopper’s hand slides off your ass, but not before his fingers give a slight squeeze.

Message received.

You have to ask one of the staff where the restroom even is, hoping your slightly flushed and faintly jittery attitude will just be interpreted as confusion and a desperate need to go.

She points towards a grand staircase and tells you to go right before it. You do, your heart pounding with anticipation.

God, this place is fancy.

Hopper mutters all the time about how Kline has poured the majority of the town’s money into this place, and, hell, next time he mutters you’re going to join him.

There are three doors, all having a gold ‘W/C’ on them. You open the furthest one at the end of the corridor and step in, quickly closing the door behind you and leaving it unlocked before you survey the room. It’s very fancy.

Gold everywhere. Gold everything.

You pull a slight face at trying to take it all in, the slightly dim lighting shining off of it all.

Then, the door opens behind you.

Turning, you watch Hopper step in, your breath catching in your throat. His eyes are on you, darker, focused. Closing the door, he doesn’t even blink as he locks it.

‘Are you?’ he asks in a low, gravelled tone.

Your three seconds of silence are just to tease him.

‘Yes.’

He closes the distance between you in two seconds.

Hands cupping your face, he captures your lips in a fierce, demanding kiss, long fingers spreading across the sides of your neck. You return it instantly, hands gripping at the back of his suit jacket to both steady yourself and keep him against you.

He’ll take you hard against the counter, your hands having to grip the sink as he thrusts into you from behind, hands tight on your hips.

‘Look at me...’ he’ll growl, and you’ll lift your gaze, meeting his in the reflection of the gilded mirror as moans tumble from your lips. ‘... Yeah... Look at me while I fuck you, sweetheart... while my cock’s deep inside you... I want you to look at me while I feel you cum...’

No one will notice that it takes you both ten minutes to return, and that you’re still trying to catch your breath, and his shirt is rumpled, tie now knotted too tightly.

It’ll only take a few moments for his hand to return to your ass, and a smile will pull at your lips, his last words to you lingering in your mind.

‘Oh, you just wait until we’re home, sweetheart...’

—

Reblogs and comments make my day in a way I can’t describe.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or removed in my future work!

Masterlist

Tagged: @herb-welch, @punkpascal @davidkharboursex, @jobean12-blog, @warmbeardsandredwine, @mademoiselle-black, @scrunchinn, @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash, @divadinag, @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan, @deepsouth, @neganslittlebae, @ashphoenix105, @alahmorah, @daughterofthebrowncoats, @letsby, @tbkc, @kiwiphroot, @ashmely, @sistasarah-sallysaidso, @unicornsandgliiitter, @lucifer-in-leather, @heyjudeinthesky, @sleepylunarwolf, @ambeazyyy, @countryfire22, @sithlordslut, @mondsafari, @norcula, @earinafae, @beltzboys2015-blog, @jinxiejenna, @justsimplevicky, @hellosupernaturaldoctor, @ginasellsbooks, @dwarvenbunnyears, @vale0413, @mrslydiaholden, @kimberliinabox, @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly, @allylupin, @cant-shake-this-feeling-off, @the-bitch-gotham-deserves, @warriorqueen1991, @thesurestthing, @zuni21798, @quietlovelovely, @maddieisaboredable, @windinyoursnail, @happy-hopper, @yedi16, @negansdirtygirl22, @slipperywhenwetsstuff, @my-rosegold-soul @madkskillz, @im-not-great-at-making-up-names, @sergeantangel, @bitchinsinclair, @dewy-biitch, @focusonspn, @wearethebrokenones, @sarcasm-is-my-native-tounge, @thatprettymvthafvcka, @pulplorrd, @gifsbysimplysonia, @opalsandlacemain @geordiequeen, @gothackedalready, @ayatimascd, @missaudreyhorney, @chiefharbour, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @saltandroot, @chiefharbour

Apologies to those Tumblr won’t let me tag!

#chief jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x reader #hopper x reader #are we easing back in still?#we're easing back in #jim hopper #my writing #flamehairedwritings

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kaylorrehabcenter · 4 years ago

Text

Rating Every Song on Fearless Based on How Gay it is

Hello friends! I still have a few song analyses in the pipeline (and one on Lover the album) but today in honor of Fearless (Taylor’s Edition) being announced and Love Story being released in a few hours I thought I’d do something fun to celebrate!

And you know what? Fuck my usual disclaimer, I am the word of god here. Try and change my mind about any of these. I dare you. (I kid I kid this isn’t that serious and you’re free to disagree <3)

1. Fearless 15/10

Everything about this song is so fucking gay oh my god. This isn’t a fruit, this is a whole ass edible arrangement. As a small rural town Gay (my hometown has a population of less that 4,000 and where I’m living now has a population of 2,500) this uh. Hits.

“And I don't know how it gets better than this/You take my hand and drag me head first, fearless”

Y’ALL

The idea of falling in love with someone who makes you less afraid of your homophobic small town…….it’s getting to me.

“My hands shake, I'm not usually this way but/You pull me in and I'm a little more brave/It's the first kiss, it's flawless, really something/It's fearless”

This is making me emotional, I'll be honest. I see so much of my friends and my experience in high school in this song.

This quote I found on genius is from when the album was released on BMR’s website.

“When I wrote ‘Fearless,’ I wasn’t dating anyone. I wasn’t even in the beginning stages of dating anybody. I really was all by myself out on tour and I got this idea for a song about the best first date. I think sometimes when you’re writing love songs, you don’t write them about what you’re going through at the moment, you write about what you wish you had. So, this song is about the best first date I haven’t had yet.”

This just screams baby Tay writing gay folklore to me, about the gay stories she wish she had. Notice how there are no pronouns in this song??? Fruity I’m telling you.

All that to say. I’m crying because the linear note says “I loved you before I met you” and I want to go listen to Long Story Short and cry now.

2. Fifteen 1/10

Objectively pretty straight as she’s singing about her and Abigail’s dating boys in HS. And Taylor got with a senior guy. Good for her I suppose.

Unless he was one of the shitty ones in which case.

“This is life before you know who you're gonna be”

This however, is a cute line and the whole song makes me warm and nostalgic. You can also hear her crying after the line “and Abigail gave everything she had to a boy who changed his mind” which makes me emo and I’m sure will take on new depth after Abigail’s divorce and hurt me even more.

Other highlights that make me sob include.

“When all you wanted was to be wanted/Wish you could go back and tell yourself what you know now/Back then I swore I was gonna marry him someday/But I realized some bigger dreams of mine”

Bigger dreams of hers indeed :’)

(Also how can you say she’s a gold star lesbian when this song exists. She was obviously dating boys in high school and even if you think she’s a lesbian. Comp het is a hell of a drug kids.)

3. Love Story 8/10

Tried to change the ending indeed.

This is THE Taylor Swift song, and maybe it’s the nostalgia talking but damn I still love it. Written because she wanted to change the ending of Romeo and Juliet (how anyone likes RandJ enough to want to rewrite I have no clue.) and/or because her parents didn’t approve of a guy she was seeing. (according to genius, it would’ve been too early for Joe J so it could possibly be Boys Like Girls frontman, his image did clash with hers and they did release some cute songs together. However if you want my take it’s probably folklore about Emily, take for what you will)

This song has very oft gay vibes with the ‘They don’t approve of our love angle!’ but uses male pronouns so points redacted for that. HOWEVER this is a very early use of ~the male perspective~ in Taylor’s songs and for that it deserves all the love.

“ So I sneak out to the garden to see you/We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew/So close your eyes/Escape this town for a little while”

More rural town angst!!!

Nothing gets me more than rural town angst.

“Romeo, save me, they're trying to tell me how to feel/This love is difficult, but it's real”

Originally the lyric was “this love is different”. Granted I do not remember the source, i’s just lore implanted into my brain, but make of that what you will.

“"Marry me, Juliet, you'll never have to be alone/I love you, and that's all I really know/I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress/It's a love story, baby, just say "Yes"”

Marry me Juliet from the male perspective :)

Also worth noting. This is Karlie’s (and Kim K’s lmao) favorite Taylor song which. While basic as hell. Makes this cover sad as hell to this former Kaylor. (thanks @swiftgron-get-married for the tears <3)

Also not to make this about a man AGAIN but the secret message is “Some day I’ll find this” AND SHE DID IM CRYING.

4. Hey Stephen 1/10

The one thing Camilla Cabello and I have in common is loving this song, so I have to live with that for the rest of my life.

This song is very painfully straight.

How can you think this woman is a gold star lesbian.

The only noteworthy thing is that this is one of the few songs she confirms who it’s about. The secret message is “Love and Theft” which is the name of a country music duo who went on to open her Fearless tour. Which, does make me side eye this song a little bit.

Still a cute song.

“Hey Stephen, boy, you might have me believing/I don't always have to be alone”

5. White Horse 1/10

Oh look. It’s track five.

You know maybe this is just me being a bitch but in my ranking of track fives this is. Pretty low. Maybe on the bottom.

Like I don’t have a lot to say about it.

She’s going through it over a guy. He was a cheating dickweazel.

“'Cause I'm not your princess, this ain't a fairytale/I'm gonna find someone someday/Who might actually treat me well”

“Try and catch me now, oh/It's too late/To catch me now”

These lines hit though!!

And she found Joe!! Who treats her well!!!! And she isn’t the princess, she’s the prince who dropped her sword and knocked on her door!!! But this time if they come for them she’s ready!!!

Yes I will make every song about Long Story Short <3

6. You Belong With Me 5/10

Ah yes. The other THE Taylor Swift song.

You know. If I went to a high school with a cheerleading squad. And I had a crush on a cheerleader. I would blast this song. So for that it gets a 5/10. Otherwise. Fairly straight and fairly iconic.

7. Breathe 8/10

Well. We know this one is about a woman. (Emily Poe for those not in the know. Ha. A rhyme!) That alone has an 8/10. And it’s the first time she has a featured artist so bonus points for that!

It was nominated for a Grammy and it fucking lost to Jason Mraz. When’s the last time you thought about Jason Mraz.

I will not have Kaylor feels on a fucking Fearless song but damn is it VERY easy.

“Never a clean break, no one here to save me/You're the only thing I know like the back of my hand”

“It's 2 A.M, feeling like I just lost a friend/Hope you know it's not easy, easy for me”

Also this bridge? Goes off. HIGHLY underrated.

8. Tell Me Why 3/10

You know. Maybe this album isn’t as gay as I once thought.

This song does bop though, not as good as her other angry songs on this album. But I can vibe with this you know. Why are you being an asshole mysterious man.

“You could write a book on how to ruin someone's perfect day”

This has to be one of baby Tay’s best burns. Damn.

“Why do you have to make me feel small/So you can feel whole inside?/Why do you have to put down my dreams/So you're the only thing on my mind?”

Men ain’t shit kids. However, bonus points for the shade.

9. You’re not Sorry 1/10

Ok, ok. Maybe this was a foolish endeavor.

Because yet again we have a very straight song. A good song. That was on Taylor’s episode of CSI. But oh dear. Very straight. Gets a measly one point. We started this post off so very very gay but damn. We seem to be nearing the end on a very straight note.

10. The Way I Loved You 20/10

Hey Remember what I said about this album being very straight.

WELL THAT WAS A LIE.

Is this a comphet album or am I projecting.

This is one of my favorite baby gay Taylor songs. Her masterful use of pronouns (he is sensible! And so incredible! And all my single friends are jealous! But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain, when it was two am and I was cursing your name!) makes the other person she’s singing about completely vague, while we know she isn’t happy with whichever guy she’s dating.

Mayhaps an early reaction to PRomances?

Either way this song is so good, truly an underrated gay gem I mean. Look at it.

“Breaking down and coming undone/It's a roller coaster kind of rush/And I never knew I could feel that much/And that's the way I loved you”

AND THE BRIDGE. Do all of her gay songs just have kickass bridges?

“He can't see the smile I'm faking/And my heart's not breaking/'Cause I'm not feeling anything at all/And you were wild and crazy/Just so frustrating/Intoxicating, complicated/Got away by some mistake and now…”

Damn. I’m imaging this with 2020 vocals and fucking ascending.

Also please watch the live performance of it from the Fearless tour. It’s such a damn shame this got cut from the movie and some woman in the front row is wearing a cowboy hat. Everyone is holding up those cameras everyone had to have before smartphones. Taylor is being endearing. It’s a good time.

11. Forever and Always 6/10

Bonus points for the ~drama~ of it all. Added last minute to the album? The iconic throwing of the chair in live performances?? All of it very dramatique and for that we stan.

Still pretty straight.

Also Joe Jonas responded to the song and why do I find his response so damn funny. “It’s part of being a musician, I guess. You write songs about each other.”

This is another song where the idea of Taylor’s grown up vocals on this is………..whew

12. The Best Day 0/10

This gets zero points because it’s about her literal mom.

Still makes me cry.

God bless Andrea Swift indeed

13. Change 13/10

We start the official tracklist with a gay song. We end it with a gay song.

We will ignore that it was originally written for Scott and BMR and instead induct it into the hall of gay pride anthems, as it should be.

“We're getting stronger now, finding things they never found/They might be bigger but we're faster and never scared/You can walk away, say we don't need this/But there's something in your eyes says we can beat this”

“This revolution, the time will come/For us to finally win/And we'll sing hallelujah, we'll sing hallelujah”

The music video is cringe though lol

14. Jump then Fall 10/10

This song is gay because I choose it to be. <3

Like. Picture baby Taylor writing this song and playing it on her guitar to a girl she has a crush on telling her that she’ll protect her and they’ll be safe and in love and happy together. Gah, maybe I’m ~projecting~ but this sweet ass song always gets me and is EASILY in my top five Taylor songs. Super underrated and hecking cute.

“We're on the phone and without a warning/I realize your laugh is the best sound/I have ever heard”

Like. Look at this shit.

“I watch you talk, you didn't notice/I hear the words but all I can think is/We should be together”

Tell me this is about the first time you get a crush on a girl and she’s your best friend and she’s amazing and beautiful and you realize you kinda want to kiss her and you hope she wants to kiss you too.

“I had time to think it oh, over/And all I can say is come closer/Take a deep breath and jump then fall into me”

And she’s the Romeo who's going to protect her!!!!! She’s the knight in shining armor in this song and I love that for her??

“The bottom's gonna drop out from under our feet/I'll catch you, I'll catch you/When people say things that bring you to your knees/I'll catch you/The time is gonna come when you're so mad you could cry/But I'll hold you through the night until you smile”

I won’t divulge into full on analysis here because. This is what this post is about but PLEASE listen to this song more. It’s such a gay little gem.

15. Untouchable 9/10

How does she make a cover sound gay.

It sounds so gay.

“You got to come on, come on, say that we'll be together/Come on, come on, little taste of heaven”

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay

16. Forever and Always Piano Version 1/10

This song gets 1/10 because I don’t like it. There. I said it.

17. Come in With the Rain 3/10

I can see why this is a bonus track. It doesn’t hit me as much as the other songs on the album.

But damn if I don’t want to scream sing this one driving down a high way.

18. Superstar 7/10

You can’t tell me this song is about a man. I simply won’t entertain the idea.

You cannot prove to me that this song is about a man. There is not a male pronoun in sight.

>:)

19. The Other Side of the Door 6/10

Is this song about having a fight about being in the closet? Probably not. Will my gay little brain make it about that? Yep!

And that, funky little queer pals, is my gay rating of every Fearless song. Like and subscribe, #t3atmidnight

#long post //#fearless the album #gaylor #what do i tag this for it to show up for peope??#gay rating

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alarriefantasy · 4 years ago

Text

Hi, all! So it seems that the wonderful AO3 user - objectlesson - aka on tumblr as - horsegirlharry - has sadly deleted their fics. I have only a few saved in my files, but there are some I would really love to possess, if anyone has them? I would really appreciate it if you would message me and let me know! :)

Also, I am posting the whole list of amazing stories they shared for our fandom, and I am marking (with an asterisk*) the ones that I have myself, in case anyone else would like them too! <3

Silver White Winters

by objectlesson

In which Louis catches a cloud and pins it down.

Words: 5106, Chapters: 2/2, Language: English

I Must Confess (I Still Believe)

by objectlesson

Louis shrugs, eyes on the road. “You look cute in the blazer, too,” she says nonchalantly, and what the fucking fuck, what is Harry supposed to think?

“You probably do, too, but I wouldn’t know because I don’t even think you own one? Do you ever actually wear the entire uniform?” she asks, deflecting.

“Not since freshman year!” Louis boasts proudly. “They stopped giving me demerits because it’s, like, a lost cause. I literally haven’t seen my blazer in three years, I just borrow Veronica’s when I walk into Mass.” Her grin is very cheeky and bright, and she’s squinting in the sun, aviators pushed up into the overgrown auburn shag of her hair. The horizon is hazy and pink-orange as dark sneaks up on them, the air smelling of sprinkler water and BBQ smoke from people leaching the last warmth of October before summer’s gone for good. Harry feels alive with possibility, eyes watering as she smiles at Louis, unable to stop. She wrinkles her nose like it’ll somehow hide the way it looks on her face to be in love.

Or, Harry is the new girl at an all girl Catholic Girl’s School, and Louis is the unattainable, dashing senior who changes her forever.

Words: 44304, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Powerless (and I Don’t Care It’s Obvious)

by objectlesson

“Oh no, Lou, don’t make me laugh,” he whimpers. His Ribena-purple mouth twists into a glorious, breakable shape, and Louis’s heart stops. He should not be getting turned on by Harry’s full-bladder discomfort, his little twitches, his hips-stuttering. And yet.

Words: 4090, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

The Pink Ghost of Princess Park

by objectlesson

The thought of the vibrator does not go away. It’s sitting there collecting dust all through January, and every time Harry and Louis have to leave town for a press event or a show or to record or what have you, they come back home, and it’s still there, the Pink Ghost of Princess Park, the fucking glittery haunting that Harry cannot stop thinking of Louis stuffing up his arse.

Words: 7556, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Life Saver

by objectlesson

Nerd Boy’s giant, dorky, adorable hand shoots into the air. Louis notices he has chipped red polish on a few of his nails and some tattered friendship-looking bracelets, like the sort you make in camp, and he might hear the distant chime of wedding bells. He thought he didn’t even believe in marriage because it’s, like, oppressive and heteronormative or whatever, but that was before Styles, Harry (Harry Styles!!! What an absurd, wonderful name! What a perfect thing to scrawl in the margins of all his notebooks surrounded in hearts!) appeared in the bio lab at his new school and ruined all his principles forever.

or, Louis is a sweetheart punk with a theater background and a heart of gold, Harry is an inexperienced nerd who plays by the rules. Classmates, lab partners, and eventually friends, what happens when Louis knows he’s in love, but doesn’t know how tell Harry?

Words: 14809, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Even Your Honey Dew

by objectlesson

It probably says something about Harry that he’s so obsessed with another omega’s arse.

Words: 9512, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

What a Heavenly Way To Die

by objectlesson

She’s thought about it a lot, and two big things seem to be holding her back, aside from the uncontrollable paralysis that overtakes her body every time she so much as tries to sneak a hand under the waistband of Harry’s knickers.

Or, Louis is afraid to do stuff to Harry, who has done a lot of stuff to her.

Words: 8052, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

A Firm Believer and a Warm Receiver

by objectlesson

a few months ago, Louis had his first heat. It was no big deal, aside from it being awkward and weird and all the other things it was supposed to be. He figured he would present as an omega, so he wasn’t exactly surprised or anything.

But then, last week, Harry had his first heat, too.

Or, the omega/omega sleepover fic no one asked for but y'all really, really need.

Words: 10895, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

You’ll Know What Makes The World Turn

by objectlesson

Sometimes, when things are messy and they have more than a few weeks apart, they need the reminder. It’s comforting to have stars to map your course by.

or, Harry’s blue bandana is a day collar.

Words: 4624, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Sing You Butterflies

by objectlesson

Louis stares for a moment before some primal sympathetic force in him activates. He has to help this boy. He can hardly walk, and he seems so young (yet ageless, beyond age, like a sea turtle or a parrot or a tree or something else odd and magical), and on top of all that, he has body glitter clinging to his skin, like that roll-on stuff his sisters used to use as preteens, only pink-gold and twice as thick. It’s, like, professional grade. He’s also wearing grass- and dirt-stained pink silk women’s underwear, so maybe he’s from London. Maybe he’s a drag queen who crawled all the way from a nightclub in Soho just to save Louis from his horribly mundane and woefully heterosexual neighbours out here in the middle of nowhere.

or, Harry’s a clumsy unicorn who accidentally stomps on a witch’s garden and is turned into a human as punishment, so he wanders into a nearby village covered in glitter, still figuring out how to walk on two feet, and meets the fairy-tale-fine Louis, who has to teach him how to live as a human and stop him from eating soap.

Words: 22701, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Holy

by objectlesson

She deserves not to be so goddamned put together all the time. Being in the world’s biggest and highest exposure girlband means she’s never seen without a flat stomach, a spray tan, contouring, eyelash extensions, the whole of her body inescapably toned and plucked and waxed so frequently she genuinely forgot what fucking color her own pubes are. Louis wants to eat burgers and smoke weed and be twenty three. She wants to wake up with Harry and spend the whole day in bed fingering each other because they finally don’t have to have goddamn acrylic nails for once. She wants to grow her pubes out. She wants to lounge around in a posh, red-velvet High Hefner robe.

Or, Louis is dressed like a fucking queen, Harry’s begging please.

Words: 6608, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Only One I Dream Of: A Drabble Collection

by objectlesson

A collection of all the m/m One Direction drabbles and timestamps I’ve written on tumblr, so my readers on here aren’t missing out!

Words: 5164, Chapters: 5/13, Language: English

Diamonds in the Moonlight

by objectlesson

The 70s au where Harry is a rich girl stuck in the suburbs who thinks she loves Shaun Cassidy, and Louis is the skater who breaks into her backyard and changes everything forever.

Words: 16136, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

In the Heat of the Night

by objectlesson

“You’re sleeping with me, obviously,” Harry says then, pausing to regard Louis with a funny expression, nose wrinkled and brows drawn tight. “Don’t tell me you thought that I’d let you freeze out here!? Absolutely not! C’mon, the bedroom’s cozy, I dragged a space heater out.”

Louis wants to protest about as badly as she wants to sleep next to Harry Styles, which is a lot. Too much.

Or, Louis is the only butch in London with a truck and Harry needs to move a couch.

Words: 7726, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Once Upon a Dream

by objectlesson

“M’not gonna half-ass our fake relationship,” Louis almost snaps, voice sharp with a defensive edge, like Harry wandered too close to a bruise with needy fingers. “Now kiss me again. We’re gonna make every shitty tourist here wish they had stayed in the Midwest. We’re gonna burn Disneyland down with our gay. ”

Harry shuts his eyes and opens his mouth, because he can’t fucking say no to Louis.

Or, a fake dating AU where everyone is lying and they happen to be at the Happiest Place on Earth.

Words: 16643, Chapters: ½, Language: English

From Now Until Forever

by objectlesson

The girls go to Britney Nite and Louis wears Juicy track pants and Harry is not ok.

Niall takes the pint glass back from Harry and takes a swig, regarding her over the rim knowingly. “You’re nervous,” she observes with a grin. “Because you’re gonna get drunk at a gay bar with Louis, and you haven’t told her yet that you wanna marry her.”

“Oh, my god, stop,” Harry scolds, hiding her face in her hands, everything suddenly hot and shivery. “It’s not that,” she adds, even though it most definitely is.

“Then…you’re excited to see Louis in a schoolgirl skirt and bra? Covered in that body glitter that smells like cotton candy?” Niall presses, waggling her eyebrows, making Harry blush at the mere thought of Louis’s golden skin shimmering and sticky under club lights.

Words: 9223, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Hello, Heaven (you are tunnel-lined with yellow lights

by objectlesson

“Oh, yeah?” Harry asks, playing dumb as he helps Louis out of his coat before hanging it up. “A new phone charger? Mine’s still broken, the electrical tape didn’t work.”

Louis makes a face at him, all arched brows and tongue pressed into cheek. “Oh a phone charger? Is that what you need?” he quips lightly, voice high and lilting in this sing-song way that’s so, so high and gentle that it’s scary. He’s putting on a show for Harry, and Harry’s thrilled with it, already shivery and hot-cheeked because Louis got him something naughty, and they’re talking about it without really talking about it, wrapping it up in layers of mundanity and domesticity, still so excited to play the role of two Adults living in their new Adult flat in London that they bought with their own money from the X Factor. Harry’s living an unimaginably glamourous life so suddenly, and Louis and his gifts are right in the middle of it, the heart of his every dream.

Or, Louis buys Harry things sometimes.

Words: 2988, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Dream About That Casual Touch

by objectlesson

And that was the first thing Louis noticed about her. Not her nipples, or not only her nipples, anyway, but the fact that she was so confident with her body and didn’t seem to care that her tits were sort of soft and floppy and uneven or that she had a little roll of pudge around her hips that poked over the top of her jeans when she wore crop tops. She wore what she wanted to wear whether or not it was in fashion or technically even flattering; her hair was always messy, she only wore makeup half the time, and she seemed to like heeled boots even if she was already fairly tall and they made her tower over the boys. Louis always thought it was so fucking sexy how unconcerned Harry seemed with what people thought of her, how comfortable she was in her own skin. That by itself seemed like a sort-of gay thing, so Louis kept a remote, careful eye on her, hoping to one day see something else that blipped her radar.

Or, Louis and Harry fuck up two dates before they finally get it right.

Words: 7678, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Smoke Dreams from Smoke Rings

by objectlesson

“When I get a craving?” Louis says, “You have to help me chase it away. Distract me”

Oh. Harry can think of about one hundred different ways to distract Louis Tomlinson. One hundred better uses for his mouth, for example. “Erm,” he squeaks, well aware of the fact that he’s grinning and dimpling and blushing all at once, his whole face a suddenly mortifying warzone of transparent emotion. “How?”

“By hitting my arm as hard as you can,” Louis announces, holding out the arm in question. It bridges the gap between them, stiff and expectant, and Harry stares, not entirely sure if Louis’s being serious, if this is some prank that he isn’t clever enough to understand, or if the promise of touching Louis under any circumstances is so titillating that he just can’t process it. Louis rolls up the sleeve of his hoodie then, revealing his pale inner arm in maddening increments, pushing Harry somewhere between drooling and vomiting, he isn’t sure which. He just knows that his mouth is flooded, and the barely-there ghost of Louis’s veins through his skin is the prettiest thing that he’s ever seen. “Go on, hit me,” Louis orders. “Don’t be shy,”

or, Louis enlists Harry to help him with his bad habit.

Words: 18116, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Black Stars and Endless Seas

by objectlesson

Or, A Star Trek Original Series AU where Lt. Styles is a young science officer on his first away mission, and Louis is the headstrong ensign assigned to his security detail, and maybe they would be able to function together professionally in a normal setting, but not when their shuttlecraft crash-lands and they end up marooned together on an improbably and unfairly beautiful planet.

Words: 32246, Chapters: 3/3, Language: English

Rose Garden Dreams

by objectlesson

Harry thinks it’s a fever-induced delirium, at first. After all, she’s been sick in bed for a full forty-eight hours following the Best and Most Important beach trip of her entire life because fate is a cruel and jealous bitch who doesn’t want Harry to go on a date with the girl of her dreams.

or, Harry is sick and Louis comes to visit her.

Words: 9464, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Palms Reflecting in Your Eyes

by objectlesson

Harry visits Louis at his campus and finds a crop on the wall.

Words: 6496, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Wrap You Up in Daisy Chains

by objectlesson

Ten minutes later, an awkward, long-legged, curly-haired, so pale she’s reflective, and so obviously gay-looking Harry Styles is sitting shotgun next to Louis in a bikini, denim cut-offs, and heart-framed sunnies.

Or, Harry and Louis and a too-small bathing suit.

Words: 10613, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

To Keep the Night From Ending

by objectlesson

It doesn’t always feel real to kiss in the dark, Harry guesses. He wants it to feel real. He wants it to be the realest thing, burnt indelibly into his skin.

Or, Harry and Louis take a night swim.

Words: 5036, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Good Enough to Eat

by objectlesson

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles, shuffling. “You won’t give me shit for it? It’s sorta weird.”

“No,” Louis breathes. “Promise.”

“Okay. I just…fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Harry whimpers, and he must be blushing because Louis can feel waves of heat coming off him, his embarrassment a hot, palpable thing. “So, like…I love rimming videos. Nothing makes me come harder,” he admits, covering his face with his hands so his voice comes out muffled and strangled.

It takes Louis a few seconds to process, to mentally rifle through his Pornhub search history and remember what rimming even is; Harry has him so stupid he can’t keep stuff straight. His ears ring, and then it hits him, and, oh, fuck. His stomach turns and tightens so quickly he’s gasping, an audible and shameful scrape of air in the dark. “You…really?” he chokes out.

Or, Harry is convinced he’s never gonna be able to try his favorite porn fantasy on a real boy, and Louis offers to remedy this.

Words: 6722, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Grenadine Sunshine

by objectlesson

Harry’s only sixteen, it shows right now, and Louis wants…he wants so many things. He wants to taste the faint, sugary ghost of lip gloss, he wants to cup Harry’s face between his palms and swipe the shimmery wet shadows from beneath his eyes. He wants to show him everything he knows, even though he doesn’t know anything about this, about kissing boys or flirting with them or doing their makeup or even showing them it’s okay to want to wear makeup in the first place. Still, Louis just wants, wants and wants and wants. It’s what Harry does to him.

Words: 18067, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Only Angel

by objectlesson

Louis pops his hip out, looking down at Harry from beneath the cut of his fringe sassily. “How do I look?”

Harry…Harry doesn’t have words, not really. He sits there on the floor with a half-hard cock, gazing up at this taller, scarier version of Louis with wide eyes. “Like I want you to spin-kick me in the face,” he admits after a moment, shakily inhaling. “You look…really good.”

Or, Louis finds a pair of heels that fit, and Harry wants to be ruined, as per usual.

Words: 6599, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Someone Who Knows How To Ride

by objectlesson

Harry gives Louis a lap dance. Or, at least, he tries to.

Words: 5114, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Copper Kiss

by objectlesson

Harry’s not allowed to fly back to the UK without marks to remember Louis by.

Words: 4604, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

You Drive Me Crazy ( I Just Can’t Sleep)

by objectlesson

The first time Louis ends up in Harry’s bed is a total accident.

Words: 18520, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Christmas Without You

by objectlesson

It’s Christmas Eve and Harry misses Louis so badly he might be going little crazy.

Words: 5639, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Vinyl and Lace

by objectlesson

Harry tries on a skirt in the X Factor dressing room as a joke. Louis doesn’t think it’s very funny.

Words: 7541, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Touch of My Hand

by objectlesson

Words: 3104, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: One Direction (Band)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Additional Tags: Tour Bus Sex, Bus Sex, PWP, Up All Night Tour, Uan era, Canon Compliant, baby boyfriends in love, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Established Relationship

Born to Make You Happy

by objectlesson

Harry makes a quiet vow to himself that he will be the very best girlfriend Louis has ever had, even if he never actually gets to be Louis’s girlfriend.

Words: 25662, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Taste of a Poison Paradise

by objectlesson

Louis notices Harry’s mouth right away.

Words: 9894, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

A Little Love (is better than none)

by objectlesson

It’s supposed to be no strings attached sex, but Harry’s in love with beauty and tragedy and Louis Tomlinson so there might actually a few strings they’re not talking about.

Or, alternately, the four times they fuck and don’t kiss, and one time they fuck and do (with a few more times thrown in because I’m a mess and know how to write short fics).

Words: 15074, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Take Me Under the Blue

by objectlesson

Louis hasn’t even seen his legs yet. He doesn’t know how they work or how long they’ll be. Maybe they won’t suit the rest of Harry at all, and he’ll have to grow into them or something. It doesn’t matter; Louis has loved Harry for a year with scales, so he can’t imagine wonky legs putting a damper on his attraction.

He supposes he’ll just have to find out. In the meantime, he wonders how the fuck he got here, in his squelching wellies about to save the love of his life from the sea and take him to bed and bang him for the very first time.

It’s sort of a long story.

Words: 19011, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

#deleted fics #objectlesson #horsegirlharry #larry fics #larry stylinson #larry fic rec

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punsandfuturekingsmen · 3 years ago

Note

M!A: Trapped

When arthur is ready, he goes to the outskirts marked in the latter, no one is there. At least that is what it seems like, but a smell similar to fruit and herbs and a hint of sharp bitterness is in the air, only for Arthur’s nose.

And before he can react, something smashes against his head, knocking him unconscious.

When arthur wakes up, he’s in a room made of concrete and covered in messy sigils. Protection spells, warding spells, sigils to make arthur stay put… but they’re messy and poorly done. It would be easy to wipe them away.

There’s a table, a bed, a bucket, and the door has a tray sized hole and a window. Along the top of the walls there’s a single tiny cracked window

His head hurt--

That was the first thing that filtered in. The room was quiet, but even the soft scrape of fabric on stone was drowning thunder when his head split like it did. He touched it, finding a knot where--- whatever, and whoever, had hit him. A soft hiss left him, and he cracked open a singular eye.

He was on the floor, somewhere concrete. Maybe some kind of warehouse....? You didn’t see stone flooring all that often in public buildings. Unless it was the basement. It might be, though he could see a tiny window one one of the walls. Obviously if it was, it wasn’t a very deep set one.

Arthur winced and rubbed at his head, before sitting up with a groan. He bit his tongue to keep subtle, blearily taking in the room. Whoever had grabbed him.....sure had done their homework, by copying it off someone else three rows away. It was a rough job, to be sure. And he wasn’t even really sure why it was there at all? What was the point of kidnapping him?

Arthur wiped at his face again, pulling the ‘just woke up from forced unconsciousness’ from his eyes. They stilled burned, and he was about ready to sleep off this headache for a few more hours. But he was somewhere weird, and had been stolen, he was pretty sure. So resting anything off wasn’t an option. Instead he found his feet with a wobbling push against the floor, and stumbled as he moved around the room.

A closer inspection of the sigils ended up with him making a ‘oof’ face. They weren’t exactly stellar from afar, but up close they deserved one of those shitty gold ‘you tried’ stars, maybe with tried being mispelled. He licked his thumb and swiped it over a few so he could move around at least, before shuffling through the room, looking around and trying to get his bearings.

#answering things #ic #arthur speaks #M!A #Trapped #Tobias #oh you sweet dumb boi

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bronte-deserves-better · 4 years ago

Text

Hey @stars-and-splendors! I was your secret santa for the kotlc fandom gift exchange. Sorry this is a little late- I meant to give it to you Christmas day or the day after, but the fic got away from me a little...I hope the wait will have been worth it!

Without further ado, I present to you: 4.5k words of Keefe and Fitz trying to dance around their feelings for each other, feat. a few moments of shitty parents and some very tired friends/sisters.

Title: to find what you’re looking for

Summary:

The war is over. The Neverseen is defeated.

In the new, peaceful world, Keefe and Fitz are attending the Elite Towers, soon to graduate. Yet both of them feel like they're missing something. When Keefe comes up with a scheme to prank their parents, both of their worlds may change forever- with the help of a few exasperated friends and supportive elder gays, of course.

Wordcount: 4514

Warnings: homophobia, internalized homophobia, swearing.

AO3 Link

(Actual fic under the cut)

“Hey. Psst. Fitz.”

Fitz jumped, startled at the voice. “Keefe? Where are you?”

“Over here. Ditching class. Like usual.”

He followed Keefe’s voice to the secluded little hallway that the other boy used for ditching, finding Keefe sprawled out on the bench as usual. “What are you doing here?”

“Ditching class, like I said. What about you, handsome?” Keefe flashed a smirk, which Fitz knew meant he meant that in a joking way. Or, figured, at least.

“Also ditching class.”

“Seriously? That’s not like you, Fitzy.”

Fitz shrugged. “I’m feeling rebellious lately, I guess. It just seems like we’ve all been through so much and yet adults are still trying to tell us what’s good for us, like we weren’t the ones who defeated the Neverseen.”

“Fuck, yeah. That’s definitely. Yeah.” Keefe stared at the ground, suddenly serious. “Everyone’s been like that, huh?”

“Well, not everyone, I guess. Sir Tiergan’s not bad about it, but he fusses so much about me and Sophie.”

“Oh, right, you’re supposed to be in telepathy. Won’t Sophie notice you’re gone?”

“Yeah, but that’s why I’m out here. No one will find me.”

Keefe nodded and patted the bench next to him, straightening up a little. “Come on, there’s room for two.”

“Thanks.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, staring at the white walls of the Level Six wing.

“So,” Keefe said eventually.

“So.”

“You wanna spill about what’s bugging you so much?”

Fitz could feel himself tense, but he forced his muscles to relax a little. Keefe just cared about him because they were friends. Yeah. “I don’t know. I just feel directionless. Like, we defeated the Neverseen and did this whole big thing, and now it’s over. It feels like- no, it is like- I’ve been fighting this war my whole life, Keefe.”

“Cause your dad-“

“Sent me to the Forbidden Cities when I was a child to search for Sophie.”

“Kinda a dick move of him, really.”

“N- Yeah. Yeah, it was a dick move of him.”

Keefe scooted a little closer, and Fitz’s breath caught just a tiny bit. “Hey, I know what it’s like. I mean, my dad never sent me to do illegal shit for him when I was a kid, yeah, but I mean….yeah. Mommy dearest and all. My parents are shit in a different way than your dad, but I get it. So I guess what I’m trying to say is…I’m here for you, and I know that sounds 100% cheesy but I really do mean it.”

“Oh. I mean, thank you. I should probably tell you I’m here for you too, since that really is true as well.” Fitz’s brain was not functioning, he decided.

“Ah, I knew that. You all told me so much back when mommy dearest was fucking up my life. Still, I appreciate it.”

“It’s always been true. Even when we were fighting over Sophie.”

Keefe snorted. “That was weird, honestly. Like, it was so obvious from the start that she wasn’t straight. Must’ve been pretty wild for you when she ended up with your sister, though.”

Fitz shrugged. “I had been over her for a while.” And questioning his sexuality, but he wasn’t going to tell Keefe that. Backers didn’t do that. Vackers weren’t gay- well, except Biana. But that was okay, Fitz knew she wasn’t any worse for it. Still, it wasn’t like he was gay.

“Fitzy boi, you with me?”

“Yeah sorry. Got lost in thought. What were you saying?”

Keefe grinned. “Well, I was saying that on the topic of shitty parents and gayness, I have an excellent way to piss off both our parents.”

“Go on?” Fitz was pretty sure Keefe’s plan would be ridiculously over the top and hilarious, but he was pretty ready to go along with whatever.

“Right, so, you know how there’s an end of year ball for Elite Tower students? Cause we have to be ready for the nobility and all? What if we went together?”

“Are you asking me out?” Fitz blurted.

“Ah, I wish. Nah, I’m asking if you’ll be my fake date to a ball so my dad will have a heart attack. If you’re okay with that, that is. Like, no pressure.” Keefe suddenly looked shy, and Fitz could hardly refuse that look. Besides, it would be fun to give his and Keefe’s dads a collective heart attack.

“Okay, I’m in.”

The next two weeks were spent plotting and planning as to how they would pull this off, with Sophie and Biana as their enthusiastic wingwomen.

“Okay, so, Biana’s already planning you guys’ outfits,” Sophie told Keefe as she walked back into her room at Havenfield, where Keefe was currently visiting.

“Tell her to make me look fabulous,” Keefe declared with a great deal of drama, doing his best to flop back onto the bed.

“I will, trust me. But I wanted to ask you about some other stuff related to this, since the Vackers are outfit shopping and you know I don’t do that.”

“Ok, fire away.”

“One, are you asking Fitz to this thing to piss off your dad or because you have a crush on him? Two, how dramatic should your prom-posal be?”

“As dramatic as possible.” Keefe hoped against hope Sophie would forget about her first question. “Like, we’ve got to be extra about it.”

“Ok. And about my first question?”

“I....I’m doing this for a lot of reasons. One, Fitzy boi needs to lighten up a bit. Two, I love him. Three, I would kill to see my dads expression when he finds out.”

“I kinda figured.”

“I’m that obvious? Guess I’ve upped my flirting game.” He shot a wink to Sophie, who just sighed.

“Keefe, you’re never as subtle as you think you are.”

“Damnit.”

“Yeah. Apparently your lack of subtly is only matched by my obliviousness.”

“Well, thankfully for me, Fitz is just as oblivious as you.”

Sophie sighed. “He’s going to find out someday. I did, you know.”

“Well I’ll make sure that day is far away, because he’s way out of my league.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Nopity nope nope. You two deserve each other, and I mean that in a good way.”

“Stop being so nice,” Keefe whined.

“No can do. Now let’s plan how you’re going to dramatically ask him to elf prom.”

The ‘promposal’, as Sophie had deemed it, took place in the atrium of the Gold Tower. They had agreed that Keefe would do the asking, since Sophie was far more interested in arranging a dramatic proposition, and Biana was far more interested in making sure that the two boys would look fantastic for the party. So all Fitz had to do was hang around and wait for his best friend to show up.

Thankfully, Keefe didn’t keep him waiting long, sweeping into the room like he owned the place. Maybe he did own Foxfire, really, the gorgeous boy who could charm people with a wink. He was certainly charming Fitz, not that Fitz was going to tell him that.

“Hello, my dearest Fitz!”

“Hey, Keefe.”

“I have a question of utmost importance for you.” By now, Keefe had come close enough that Fitz could see a hint of a blush staining the other’s pale cheeks.

“Oh, go on?”

“Wellllll.” Keefe dragged out the word, fidgeting with something behind his back, which he whipped out to reveal a gorgeous bouquet with flowers of silver, gold, and elegant teal. “Will you be my date to the end of year ball?”

This is staged. This is all staged. He’s not really interested in you, Fitz reminded himself. Still, he must have sounded a little breathless when he replied. “Yes, I would love to.”

“Well then I shall await you at the bottom of the staircase two weeks from now!” Keefe bowed dramatically and handed him the flower arrangement.

“I’ll be there,” Fitz promised quietly, flowers tickling his chin and Keefe’s grin making his cheeks heat.

“Oh, wonderful.” Keefe smirked again and practically danced away as the rest of the prodigies stared at the two of them.

“I hear you caused quite the scene today.”

Keefe jumped, looking around and then finally down to see who had said that. “Oh, hi, Councillor Grumpypants. What are you doing here?”

Bronte glared at him without much real anger. “Sophie and I’s session is in this tower, remember? I’m just waiting on this landing because someone’s using our classroom right now.”

“Right, gotcha.” Keefe fiddled with the hem of his tunic, trying not to seem too nervous. “Do you disapprove of scene-causing? Seems like a pretty old and grumpy thing to do.”

“Ha ha. I might have few qualms about distracting other prodigies, but I see no harm in you asking Fitz to the end of year ball. Honestly, it doesn’t seem all that surprising that you did.”

“Do I vibe as that gay?”

“I have no idea what you mean by vibe, but yes, I assumed you were queer.”

Keefe snorted. “Okay, so even the old people think I’m hopelessly in love with my best friend.”

“Well, not exactly all that,” Bronte said dryly, “But as the…how did Zarina put it? ‘Gayest motherfucker on the Council’, I know a baby queer when I see one.”

“Gayest motherfucker on the Council…that’s fabulous.”

“Indeed. Now I have a session to get to, and I’m sure you do too, but…good luck with your date.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m sure it will go well, and trust me, Leto will shut down anyone who tries to give you shit for it pretty damn quickly.”

“Good to know.” Keefe watched the older elf hurry away and up the stairs, muttering under his breath about ‘need to get an actual timepiece one of these days’. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all…

Fitz was pretty sure both Sophie and Sir Tiergan could tell he wasn’t actually concentrating that day in telepathy, too busy thinking about teal-and-silver flowers and Keefe’s little blush. Could Keefe really like him like that? Why did he even want Keefe to like him like that?

Sophie didn’t seem to mind, just sending him a few knowing looks, although Tiergan seemed vaguely worried. “Fitz, are you with us?”

“Oh, yeah! Sorry, Sir Tiergan.”

“There’s really no need to call me sir,” Tiergan sighed, for about the thousandth time since Sophie and Fitz had started telepathy sessions together. “Really. And no need to apologize either, you just seem a little distant today.”

“Probably got a lot on his mind,” Sophie spoke up, nudging Fitz gently. “I know I’d have a lot on my mind if someone brought me flowers and asked me to a ball.”

“Ah, yes. Do try to concentrate on your telepathy, but I can understand that.” Tiergan shot Fitz a gentle smile, and Fitz ducked his head and nodded.

The session went by fast enough, and before Fitz knew it, the session was over and Tiergan was asking him to stay back. “Not for long, I don’t want to make you later, but I figured I’d check in.”

“O- okay.”

“See you, Fitz!” Sophie called. “I’m going to go tease our lovely friend about how blushy he gets around you!”

“Bye,” Fitz called, and Tiergan smiled again.

“I was actually going to talk to you about that ‘lovely friend’, assuming that’s Keefe?”

Fitz stared at the slightly shorter elf, debating what to say. “Yeah- yeah, that’s him.”

“I guessed so.” Tiergan fiddled with his sleeves for a moment, seeming uncharacteristically hesitant. “I wanted to tell you that you two are very brave for this- it’s not unheard of, but it will be a shock. That, and I hope it will be somewhat easier for you than it was for me when I was your age.”

“You’re-“

“Have you seen the way I look at Leto?”

Fitz had to admit that was a fair point. “I guess I should have known earlier, but I didn’t want to assume.”

“Very polite of you, but I would find it more than fair to assume my queerness based off my general demeanor,” Tiergan said wryly. “Anyways, to bring us back around to our original topic of conversation, I also wanted to let you know that you have Leto and I’s full support. If anyone gives you shit for this, I want you to tell me and I will ensure they don’t get away with it.”

“Benefits of having the principal for a boyfriend,” Fitz muttered before he could think to stop himself, and then clapped a hand over his mouth. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been hanging out with Keefe too much.”

Tiergan flushed lightly. “No, no, you’re right. Though I will say, Leto has spent a long time trying to protect students who are cast out or fall through the cracks. Now that he’s in a position of power, neither of us have qualms about using it to help any student who could use it. So please, come to me or Leto if you need anything, or anyone bothers you. And I’m not saying that because I pity you or anything of the sort, but because I wish some adult had told me this when I was your age.”

“Oh.”

The older elf smiled sadly. “Indeed. But now I get to make sure the next generation has it better than I did, and that’s something.”

Fitz nodded. “I think that’s a really kind thing.”

“Thank you. It’s really the bare minimum of what I could do, but…somehow I never find the time to help out as much as I would like.” Tiergan glanced at the clock. “Anyways, I’m making you late for your next session, so hurry on your way. You can tell your mentor I kept you late and to take it up with me if they’ve got a problem.”

“Okay!” Maybe this wasn’t such a terrible plan after all…

The end-of-year-ball was approaching quickly, and Keefe’s nerves grew as quickly as the days between now and then passed. Which was very quickly, what with finals coming up. Fitz and Keefe were studying for them together, of course, which made for a lot of late nights in each of their rooms in the Silver Tower, laughing, talking, and pretending to quiz each other on the material but not getting far without getting distracted. Fitz was always beautiful, Keefe thought, but perhaps the most lovely when he was sitting in the cozy room, laughing at some silly thing Keefe had said or brandishing flashcards mock-sternly. His eyes shone a little in the silvery lighting, and his hair fell across his face cutely, and Keefe might have been a tiny bit in love. Just a bit.

So they kept hanging out together, one night after another. Sometimes they talked about fun things like baking or pranking, sometimes they talked about serious things like the past or the Black Swan, and (rarely) they studied. And before they knew it, they had passed all their finals and it was time for a ball.

Fitz fiddled with the clasp of his cape one last time as Biana put the final touches on his hairstyle. “Are you sure this is good enough?”

“Please, I know good fashion when I see it.” His sister flipped her hair, and then shot him a reassuring smile. “Keefe will pass the fuck out, in a good way. And all the stuffy nobles will think you look fabulous right before you dance with one of their sons.”

“How do you pass out in a good way?”

“I mean that you’ll knock everyone dead. Boys. Honestly.”

Biana turned him around to look at himself in the mirror, and Fitz did have to admit that she’d done a good job. He was wearing an elegant tunic in a shade of medium blue, nearly cobalt, and a much darker jerkin over that which faded from green to blue with elegant silver embroidery over it. His cape followed a similar color scheme, and it fit perfectly, falling around his shoulders and down to the ground, where the hem was also embroidered with silver and tiny flecks of lumenite. Biana had styled his hair slightly asymmetrical, more so than he would usually wear it, and sprinkled tiny bits of silver across that too. He didn’t know if he was drop-dead gorgeous per se, but it was an outfit he could feel confident in.

“Okay, you did a good job,” Fitz admitted.

“Of course I did. Now get on down there and knock them dead.”

His nerves only increased as he descended the staircase, despite his endless repetitions of ‘it’s not a real date’. It didn’t matter how much he said that, the fluttery feeling in his stomach about Keefe seeing him all dressed up was not going away.

When he reached the bottom, Keefe was already standing there, and Fitz momentarily forgot how to breathe. The other boy’s equally intricate ice blue jerkin matched his eyes perfectly, and his blonde hair had little bits of pure gold braided into the parts that were long enough to do small braids on. The rest was artfully messed as ever, but in the sort of way that made you think Keefe had spent a long time getting it perfect. His silvery boots made a click click noise on the silver floor as he stepped to greet Fitz, and Fitz had to blink a few times to get his mouth to work again.

“Hey there, Fitzy boi.”

“Hey.” It was a pitiful greeting, but it was the best he could really manage at the particular moment. “You look…really incredible.”

“And you’re as stunning as ever.” Keefe’s grin seemed less confident than usual, a hint of genuine shyness behind it as Keefe ducked his head a little.

“Flatterer.”

“Only the right level of flattery for you.” Keefe extended his arm. “Shall we go?”

Still barely breathing, Fitz took his arm as they headed for the Leapmaster.

Fitz was stunning. Beyond stunning. He was some entirely new level of gorgeous that Keefe would have to invent a word for when his brain started working again, which he doubted would be anytime soon given Fitz’s close proximity to him. Standing at the bottom of that staircase, all dressed up in his finery, he had truly looked like an heir to the Vacker Legacy, but he was so much more than that. Whether he’d been born a Vacker or into the least-well off Talentless family, Fitz would always have been kind, unique, handsome Fitz, and Keefe would have loved him just the same. Keefe doubted the courage and strength that Fitz always carried with him would be any different had he been born to a different family, doubted there was any universe in which Fitz wasn’t his gorgeous, fierce self.

He managed to concentrate enough to get them safely to the ballroom, although if he hadn’t, he had no doubt Fitz would have more than made up for it with his ridiculously strong concentration. Speaking of strength, Fitz was gripping Keefe’s hand tightly as they arrived, and Keefe squeezed back gently, staring over the crowded ballroom.

Tonight, nobles, parents, and Elite Tower students all mingled, a preparation for balls and parties that the Elite Tower students would likely attend later in life. It was a much looked-forward-to event. And Keefe and Fitz, two male prodigies, would be attending it together, which was an extremely rare occurrence. In fact, Keefe could already see people staring at them in their position on the landing.

He squeezed Fitz’s hand again. “Let’s go down to the dance floor, shall we?”

Fitz nodded shakily, and they descended the staircase arm in arm. The staring only increased, but if Keefe pretended that it was just girls staring at him in Level Four because they thought he was hot again, he could mostly ignore it.

What was harder to ignore were the furious parents sweeping over to them.

“Keefe, I can’t believe you would disgrace the family like this-“

“So good to see you with your friend, Fitz.” Alden looked like he was speaking through gritted teeth. Keefe would have liked to punch those teeth right out of his mouth.

“I know, Keefe is a wonderful boyfriend.” Fitz’s voice was calm, but electric blue spirals of fear drifted through Keefe’s emotional ‘vision’.

Before Alden had a chance to say anything further, Della lightly tugged his arm. “Let’s go say hi to the Glixina family, darling.” She shot them a tiny smile, prompting a wave of soft purple relief from Fitz as Alden allow himself to be dragged off.

Unfortunately for Keefe, Cassius was not so easily dissuaded. “Really, Keefe. Parading around with boys on your arm-“

“I make my own choices,” Keefe muttered.

“And is one of them this?”

Keefe forced himself to look up and smirk. “Nah, I didn’t choose to fall in love with him. Just to ask him out.”

Cassius sputtered more, but before he could gather the coherence to say anything, Tiergan had come sweeping over with all the frozen grace of a swan. “Excuse me, Lord Sencen. My dear friend Leto would like a word with you about your son. I’m sure you understand that some matters are very important.”

“Well, Sir Tiergan, I’m in the middle of speaking to said son currently.”

“This truly cannot wait. Please, follow me.” Tiergan swept away again, practically dragging Cassius in his wake.

Sorry about that, Tiergan’s voice echoed in Keefe’s head. Leto will thoroughly lecture him about all this, I promise. And you don’t have to talk to him anymore tonight if you don’t want to, we arranged the ball and we can keep him away from you.

Keefe startled, squeezing Fitz’s hand. “Fitz-“

“Yeah?”

“Can you transmit something to Tiergan? He just told me that he’d keep my dad away from us, I want to thank him.”

Fitz flashed a tiny, hesitant smile. “As you wish.” He closed his (stunning, lovely) eyes briefly, and then blinked them open again. “Sent. He says ‘of course, let me know if you need anything else’.”

“Thanks, Fitzy boi.” Keefe offered a grin of his own. “Now that the parents are out of the way…may I have this dance?”

“Of course.”

The dance steps were familiar, and that was lucky, since Keefe wasn’t exactly paying good attention to what he was doing. Not after everything that had just happened- and not when Fitz had a hand on his waist. Elven music wasn’t as good to lose yourself in as the human music Sophie had showed him, but Keefe found it pretty easy to get lost just focusing on Fitz. The music swirled around them, and the floor was steady under their feet, and even the stares of others weren’t so noticeable when it was just the two of them dancing together. One step. Another. Always in rhythm. Keefe wondered a little if this was what it was like for Cognates, if their minds synced the way dance partners who knew each other well did. He had to admit to a little jealousy that he would never know what the kind of bond felt like, but…hey. It was pretty okay to be an empath, especially since he could see Fitz’s bubbling pink-and-blue happiness float through the air. It might have been a difficult, nerve-wracking entrance, but Fitz was happy to be dancing with Keefe and that was all Keefe could really ask for. Although…Keefe frowned at the slight mist of green sorrow hanging around the other, tempering his joy and keeping the bubbles from floating as far as they should have.

“Hey, Fitz.”

“Yeah?”

“You good?”

“Yeah- yeah, I am.”

They took another few steps in silence.

“Hey, Keefe?”

“Yeah?”

Fitz sucked in a slow breath, and a few lines of tension pulled around his form. “When you told your dad that you had fallen in love with me…”

Shit. “Yeah?”

“Your heart didn’t skip any beats.”

It was Keefe’s turn to suck in a breath and try to find something, anything to say in reply to that. “Maybe- I mean, I was mostly trying to piss him off.” He could feel his treacherous heart skip one-two-three this time.

“I felt your heart skip that time.”

“Okay, so….maybe I liked you. A little. Or a lot. And maybe I think you’re handsome and brave and kind and all that, and maybe I asked you to the ball partially because my dad would be mad but partially because I just wanted to be with you but you’re Fitz fucking Vacker and I’ve never had a chance-“ Keefe forced himself to take a breath and a step back from Fitz, unable to bear feeling the other’s emotions as well as his own right now.

“Keefe, wait, I-“ Fitz reached out a hand, and then pulled it back. “I love you too. And I think you should know that because no matter how much better you think I am than you, or whatever, you’re always going to be the guy who pulled me out of my shy little shell as a kid and then kept doing it, over and over and over. You’re always going to be the guy who stuck with me even when I was a major jerk, the guy who helped pull me out of my shell again and realize I wasn’t as straight as everyone thought. And more than that, you’re Keefe. I know you think that’s a bad thing, but it’s not. It’s the highest compliment I could give.”

People were staring at them again.

Keefe barely noticed. “Give me your hand.”

“As you wish.” Fitz held out his hand, and Keefe pushed his empathy out to the other. A little hint of fear, of nervousness… lingering joy from the moments before, and beneath that, glowing golden hope. No guilt, no shame. Nothing to make him think Fitz was in any way lying even if what the other boy had just said seemed too good to be true.

“You really- you really love me like that?”

“Yeah.” Fitz laughed, a little sadly. “It took me forever to notice, but I should have known the day you asked if we could go to the ball together. Or before that, even.”

“Well I fucking love you too. Have since we were young, really, but Sophie fucked with my brain and I didn’t see it until you and Sophie broke up. I thought I was jealous of you, but...all this time, I’ve been jealous of her.”

Fitz’s smile was so, so gentle. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t just ask you out the day I suggested this whole fake dating,” Keefe joked. “Seriously, you took your time, but…that’s okay. I was willing to wait.”

And the gorgeous teal-eyed boy who Keefe was starting to realize might be his reached out a hand to cup Keefe’s cheek. “Do you mind if I kiss you?”

“What a scandal it’ll be.” Keefe wasn’t sure he was actually breathing. “But no, I don’t mind.”

So Fitz kissed him in front of the entire goddamn ballroom, and Keefe couldn’t have been happier.

#fitz vacker #Keefe Sencen #keefitz #semp writes #this took forever skjhfshjkf #im so sorry im late

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thegreatestofheck · 4 years ago

Text

Ocean and Alcohol Pt. 13 ✘JJ Maybank✘

part one! part two! part three! part four! part five! part six! part seven! part eight! part nine! part ten! part eleven! part twelve!

(gif not mine! all credit to toesure!)

Word Count - 5663 Warnings - SOFT, this is too soft, too tender. I apologize. More serious warnings include swearing and that’s mostly it. Synopsis - You and JJ finally get a few hours alone. The gold is found with very few snags, but problems arise when you try to sell it off. Taglist - @bitterbethany @lovelymaybankk @ilymarkchan @downbytheouterbanks @clearcolourlessglass @obxwriterfan @tangledinsparkles @chill-sushi @summerintheobx @kiarasgold @lovelyfreshfestival @lolitstiana @divcrdown A/N - We got it all in this chapter; soft JJ, angry JJ, jealous JJ, protective JJ. I was rereading some of the earlier chapters and decided that JJ and Elm hadn’t been alone together recently enough, so there’s a whole five pages worth of just them, so there’s a gift for you I guess. I hope the rest of the chapter is something you enjoy! I skipped a relatively large portion of the plot because I didn’t want to write it out, but it still happened. I hope all is well with you guys and thank you so much for the 200 followers! stay safe, stay healthy, stay groovy!!

***

You and JJ sat out on the dock, kicking your legs back and forth. Despite the chill in the air, you felt warm with JJ beside you. The sun was even lower than before, the sky painted with beautiful purples and deep blues. The dwindling light of day cast the horizon in a golden hue. You tried not to look at JJ every three seconds, but he looked so...beautiful with the light against his skin.

“What?” He asked, laughing. You felt your cheeks redden as you turned your gaze back to the sunset. You shook your head, trying to cover for yourself now that you’d been caught.

“Nothing.” You dropped your gaze down to your feet. “It’s nice to have time alone when we’re not both half asleep.”

JJ bumped your shoulder with his. You laughed, pushing him right back. He grabbed your chin and gently turned you to face him. Your laughing died instantly, heart starting to pound in your ears. The water underneath the dock responded just as strongly as your gut. But he didn’t kiss you, not right away at least. His eyes scanned your face. His gaze landed heavily on your cuts, your bruises.

You wanted to look away. Shame crawled deep inside of you, twisting in your stomach. Sure, JJ understood how you felt, but it didn’t make it any easier. It was like having your skin peeled off and being put on display for all to see. There was no hiding from him when he was this close. He could see the rage of your father and the impression it left on you. For anyone to see all your scars, both literal and metaphorical, it was almost too much for you to bear.

After spending so long avoiding any kind of personal attachment, you weren’t sure how you had managed to let JJ in so quickly, so deeply. You had spent your entire life running from anything that could put you or Kid at risk and now here you were, running headfirst into JJ Maybank.

When he closed the distance between you, he didn’t kiss you on the mouth. Instead, he pressed his lips against the cut on your cheek. The movement startled you. You straightened your back, cheeks turning red once again. But JJ didn’t stop there. He kissed the bridge of your nose, where you had to reset it after your dad broke it. You let him tilt your jaw upward, so he could kiss the yellow bruise Rafe left behind from the summer movie series.

It was a different feeling than you were accustomed to when it came to kissing. You had grown used to the whirlpool and the storm and the riptide and the strong current. This was something else entirely. It was the goldilocks zone; where your feet were in the water enough just to keep your senses alert, but you were still very much on land.

Gently, he leaned down to kiss the cut on your lip. You watched him carefully, never take your eyes away from his face. But he didn’t look up, fixated completely on the rest of you. This tenderness was more than you could handle. It felt too much like…

You couldn’t bring yourself to think about it. Not when last time you said it, it freaked him out.

And then he finally pressed his lips to yours and the swell in your stomach turned into a wave until finally, it consumed you whole. You leaned into the kiss as far as he would let you. He pulled you closer, curving his fingers behind your head and using his thumb to keep your head tilted upward.

He dropped his hand to rest along the bottom of your neck, as he always did. The deeper you fell into the kiss, the tighter he pulled you in. You were lost in his touch, lost in his taste.

His hand wandered farther up your neck. You hadn’t realized until you felt a twinge of pain, like someone poking at a bruise. Which, of course, he was doing accidentally. When you first felt it, you ignored the pain, not wanting to part from him. But the second time, you flinched and JJ felt it. He sat back, breaking the kiss. You sucked in a deep breath before letting it out slowly through your nose. The pain in your neck was gone immediately as he removed his hand.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he fought for breath. You shook your head, not really wanting to tell him it hurt. Because it didn’t really hurt, or at least, it didn’t bother you. Not when he was there. “Ellie, you can tell me.”

You grimaced, turning your body away from him and back to the marsh. He didn’t push, but he didn’t look away, still expecting an answer.

“I thought you didn’t do the emotional shit,” you said, hoping that a laugh would keep him from asking any more questions. Clearly, it didn’t. You cleared your throat, kicking your feet again. “Do you ever...after your dad hits you, do you ever feel, like, I don’t know….”

“Like it’s my fault?” You looked over at him. “Like I somehow deserved what I got, that I had it coming?”

You bobbed your head up and down slowly, twisting your lips.

“And when people look at you, all they can see is the bruises and the scars,” you added and you swallowed a lump in your throat, forcing yourself to keep talking. “I mean, there’s got to be more to us, right? We’re not just a couple of kids who are beat around by our dads and abandoned by our moms.”

JJ nodded his head slowly.

“I used to feel like that a lot more,” he said. “But then I met the Pogues and I learned that, yeah, there is more than just a shitty home life.”

You smiled at him. It was good to hear.

“That’s sweet,” you said. He rolled his eyes.

“Sweet isn’t really the word I would use.”

“Then what word would you use?”

JJ looked out to the ocean. The sun had gone completely by then, not even the barest hint of its light peeking over the horizon. He thought for a moment, squinting his eyes. You watched him carefully.

“Despite all the shit our parents put us through, there’s gotta be one good thing that takes away from it all, that isn’t connected to all that shit,” he said and looked over at you. “For me, it was the Pogues. They’re my one good thing.”

You nodded your head, looking at your knees.

You wondered what your one good thing was. Maybe it was Kid, but JJ said it had to be disconnected and for as much as you loved Kid, how was in the thick of it just like you were.

Turning toward JJ, you lifted one knee up, propping your elbow against it. You searched his eyes for a few moments, looking for something. He simply stared back. He finally lifted his hand and brushed his thumb against your cheek. You leaned into his touch, breathing in deeply. When you opened your eyes, your gaze fell on the cut on his eyebrow.

“Will you tell me what happened?” You asked, lifting your hand to move a fallen strand of hair out of his face. JJ looked down as your fingers grazed over the cut above his eye.

“Like I said, I got arrested for sinking Topper’s boat and my dad wasn’t too pleased with a 25 thousand dollar restitution,” he said with a bitter laugh. You pinched your eyebrows together.

“How did you get arrested for something Pope did?”

“I told them I did it.”

“JJ-”

“Don’t.” He shook his head at you. “I told him to do it so I took the fall. Pope has too much to lose.”

“And you don’t?” He looked down, his hand falling from your face. “You don’t always have to look out for everyone else, you know.”

JJ scoffed, lifting his head toward the stars.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said and gave a shrug before letting his eyes fall back onto you. You sighed deeply, reaching out to take his hand in yours.

“I can pay the restitution,” you said softly, knowing full well that he would protest.

“No way, Ellie.”

“I want to help you. I...I don’t have the money myself but I can always ask my dad-”

“Forget about it.”

You watched him for a few moments, but it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything further. So, you finally let out another low sigh and gave him a smile.

“Okay.”

There was no way you were going to forget about it.

But, JJ didn’t give you much time to think because he stood up and offered you a hand, his mood changing instantly.

“Where are we going?” You asked as he pulled you to your feet. JJ’s mischievous smile pulled against his lips and you immediately regretted asking.

“How about a swim?”

“JJ…”

“It’s a perfect night for it!”

Before you could protest any further, he scooping you up into his arms.

“Hon,” you said slowly, peering down at the water below. “If you throw me in-”

“Sorry, what was that?” He teetered on the edge of the dock, making you cling tighter to his neck. “That water looks so nice, doesn’t it?”

You glared at him.

“No, it doesn’t. I don’t have any other clothes-” He leaned farther forward. “JJ!”

“Relax, Ellie,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve got clothes you can wear.”

And then he jumped.

Your stomach dropped just before you hit the water, a similar feeling to whenever JJ kissed you. When you broke the surface, the cold water shattered through you in all the best ways. The night had been warm, almost unbearably so. The chill of the water washed away the sticky, clammy feeling from your skin.

JJ let you go when you hit the water. You let yourself float for a few moments. For all your protesting about going in the water, it was just what you needed. You kicked your way to the surface once your lungs decided they needed air. Once your head was above the water, you gasped in a breath. JJ was right there, inches away from you, with a grin on his face, hair dripping wet.

“Not so bad, huh?”

You tried to fight back a smile as you pushed him. He laughed, grabbing hold of your arm and pulling you in. You let out an overdramatic sigh as he brushed your wet hair back and out of your face.

“Thank you,” you said, trying to pretend that he wasn’t pulling you in even closer.

“You’re welcome.”

You weren’t surprised when he leaned down to kiss you. It was a short kiss because the water still tasted bad.

“You wanna go inside?” He asked.

��What happened to going for a swim?”

He shrugged.

“Race you back?”

“You’re so on, bucko.”

***

JJ sat on the bed when you emerged from the bathroom, wearing one of his spare shirts and a pair of his boxers.

You thought he might say something about how you looked wearing his clothes, but he just stared at the floor. You sat next to him, running your fingers through his hair a few times.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him.

“What happened between you and Rafe?”

His question took you aback. You stiffened, letting your hand fall to your side. From the look in his eyes, you knew it was a question he had been wanting to ask you for a while.

“No-nothing happened,” you said, looking down at your hands. “I mean, nothing that really-”

“Just tell me.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. You didn’t want to be thinking about Rafe, not right now. Standing, you wrapped your arms around your waist, trying to figure out what exactly to say.

“Remember what I said about…?” You waved in the general direction of your face.

“Someone was taking pictures.” You nodded your head slowly, pressing your lips into a line. JJ seemed to connect the dots then. “Rafe took the pictures.”

You could hear the rage in his voice, his hands curling into fists.

“But it wasn’t him who showed them to my dad,” you said quickly, hoping to deescalate the situation before it escalated at all.

“Then who did?”

You swallowed, chewing on the inside of your lip.

“Topper.”

“Goddammit!” JJ picked up a pillow from the bed and threw it on the floor. You flinched at his raised voice, backing away from the bed even more.

“But it’s okay,” you said, voice shaking slightly. “I handled it.”

He turned to look at you, saw how far you had moved away, and his features softened.

“I don’t care about Topper,” he said slowly, trying to keep his voice calm. You took that to mean that he wanted to know about Rafe.

“I thought it was Rafe too,” you told him. “But when I went to confront him, he told me about Topper and the pictures and...why he had taken them.”

JJ watched you, eyes smoldering, but he wasn’t going to interrupt you.

“You remember that party at the Cameron’s?”

“When you kissed Rafe because you were mad at me?”

“Um, yeah. That party.” You felt your cheeks heaten. JJ stood, taking a few steps closer to you. “Well, apparently, Rafe was upset that I kissed him because-”

“Because he likes you.”

JJ was nearer to you now and you stepped away until you hit the wall.

“He didn’t exactly say it like that.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that he hates seeing us together. He’s jealous of you,” you told him, breathless as he neared and leaned against the wall, putting his hand by your head. “But he knows where his place is.”

You weren’t entirely sure what JJ was going to say as he stared down at you. Your breathing was deep, heavy, heart-pounding painfully in your chest. It was almost like fear, but you weren’t afraid.

“Tell me I’m yours,” he said finally. You blinked a few times. When it finally sunk into your brain what he had said, you lifted your hands to his face.

“You’re mine.” His eyes closed and he let out a deep breath at your words. “And I am yours. Only yours.”

The relief on his face passed. You didn’t even have the chance to think about what was going to come next before he crashed his lips against yours, pushing you back against the wall. You let out a shocked gasp, which JJ took full advantage of. He had you pinned against the wall. There was no way you were going anywhere, but you didn’t really want to.

You had never seen him like this, never felt him kiss you so hungrily. It was more than just desire, there was something else there. You broke the kiss, pushing him back with a knowing smile.

“Are you jealous, Maybank?” You asked. He narrowed his eyes. It was a confirmation in and of itself. You stood on your toes, pressing a gentle kiss against his neck and then another, longer one. He tightened his hands around your waist, his nails scratching your skin.

“Shit,” he breathed, making you smile as you kissed his skin again. “You keep doing that and I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself.”

You pulled back, meeting his eyes.

“Then don’t.”

***

The next morning, you sat with boys on Pope’s small boat, on the way to the HMS Pogue to pick up the girls.

“You guys have fun last night?” John B asked, a smirk on his face. You coughed, cheeks turning red. JJ threw an empty beer can at John B’s head.

“My eyes are still burning,” Pope said, rubbing his eyes dramatically.

“Two hands on the wheel, Pope,” you said, trying to pretend that your face wasn’t on fire with embarrassment.

“Not our fault you guys went out for late night ice cream,” JJ said. “We thought you were asleep.”

“I doubt we would have been able to sleep through-”

“John B, if you say another word, I will castrate you,” you told him with a smile. You didn’t want to think about it. It had been embarrassing enough when they walked in on you and JJ, still deep in a heavy make-out against the wall. It wasn’t really something you wanted to relive every three seconds.

John B cringed and fell silent. Apparently, he didn’t want to be castrated.

“Good choice.”

Picking up the girls, you could tell there was a difference in their attitudes toward each other. Even if they vowed that they still hated each other, you knew that wasn’t the case. You were just glad not to be stuck with the boys anymore.

“Next time you guys get stranded on a boat together, please take me with you,” you whined as they climbed back in the boat.

“Next time, don’t be an accomplice,” Sarah said, raising her eyebrows at you.

“That’s fair.”

“So,” John B said, clapping his hands together. “We need to get supplies. Rope, flashlights, dark clothes, the whole deal. We’re hitting the Craine house once the sun goes down. Yeah?”

There was a series of nods from around the boat as Pope headed back toward shore.

“We’re gonna get that gold,” he said with a large smile. The quiet nodding turned into loud cheers.

Your heart soared with the thought of it. You had your boy sitting beside you, his hand on your thigh and a smile on his lips. And soon, you were going to have your hands on a large pile of gold. Life couldn’t be any better.

***

Adrenaline ran through you as you gasped for breath. A crazy, blind lady shooting at you wasn’t something you were expecting for this night, but here you were, bolting from the Craine house as fast as your legs would take you.

JJ made it to the van first, jumping in the front seat. You were second, sliding into the passenger seat and throwing the sliding door open for the others. They all piled in after each other, except for John B, who had yet to even jump the wall. JJ turned to car over and slowly started to drive off.

You could still hear the old woman shrieking, firing off round after round from her gun.

“Why are we always getting shot at?” Pope yelled.

“Get in, John B!” Kie yelled, hanging out the door and offering him a hand. Sarah and Pope held onto Kie to keep her from falling out. Kie and Pope yelled over each other, Kie at John B and Pope at JJ, until the final member of their part jumped into the van.

Kie slammed the door shut and JJ sped off, pressing his foot harder on the gas. There was a lot more yelling, a few swear words thrown back and forth. You turned back around to look down at John B, who was absolutely covered in mud.

“Dude,” you sighed, holding your nose.

“JJ, drive!” Sarah called.

“Go, man!”

The van lurched forward. John B laughed.

“Are you okay?” JJ asked him. “Are you shot?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“You good?” Pope asked.

“Yeah, yeah.” His voice was shaking from the adrenaline.

“You stink,” you said. John B looked up at you with a smile.

“Thanks, Elm.”

“I think I’d know if I was shot, right?” Kie said, feeling her chest and stomach. Sarah did the same.

“What the hell just happened?” Sarah asked, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.

“All-time Pogue Hall of fame, baby!” JJ hollered, tapping his hands excitedly against the wheel. You grinned, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“That bitch is possessed,” Kie said.

“That bitch can’t aim,” Sarah added with a laugh.

“She’s pretty spry for a dinosaur,” you said, still breathing heavily.

“I’m telling you,” Kie said, swallowing and then shaking her head. “She’s possessed.”

“I don’t get it,” Pope said.”

“She’s blind.”

“Like Master Yoda.”

“Yoda wasn’t blind,” you said.

“Yeah, but he was old and moved super fast.” Pope shook his head. “It makes no sense, scientifically.”

“She does yoga. Pilates, probably.”

You looked down at John B, who held something muddy and disgusting in his hand. Your mouth fell open.

“Oh my god,” JJ said, glancing back.

“You didn’t,” Sarah gasped with a smile.

“What is that?” asked Kie.

“We did it, baby!” John B shouted. That was gold in his hands. Real gold.

“Oh my god,” You laughed, leaning farther out of your chair. “Oh my god!”

A series of screams and shouts for joy filled the van. JJ hooked a hand on your shoulder and shook you back and forth.

“Full Kook!” John B started, pumping a fist up and down in the air. Everyone picked up on the chanting.

The gold was down there. John B had found it. You were going to be rich. You were going to afford that lawyer, get Kid away from your dad. The dream you once had was slowly becoming a reality. You couldn’t stop laughing.

“Full Kook! Full Kook! Full Kook!”

***

The next morning, you sat with Kie and Sarah in the van, reviewing the plan that the boys had come up with. You couldn’t help but laugh at the silly drawing.

“Who drew this?” Sarah asked, a quiet laugh still in her voice.

“Who do you think?” Kie looked over to where Pope and John B were sitting. Pope looked up and grinned. Kie held his gaze for a moment. You glanced over at Sarah and she looked over at you. The two of you let out a little laugh, which turned Kie’s attention back to the plan.

“Kie!” JJ said, walking up to the van. “This better work.”

He dropped the gold into the bottom of the van, crossing his arms.

“We can’t pawn this off if there’s a giant wheat symbol on it,” he continued. With a smile, Kie plucked a blow torch off the ground and held it up.

“It’s gonna work,” she said.

You sat off to the side as Kie blow-torched the gold in a small pot above a flame. JJ and Pope leaned over, watching the gold melt carefully. You chewed on your fingernail, legs shaking up and down.

Not much later, you were all back in the van, shuddering down the road on the way to the pawnshop.

“They might not have the cash for the entire thing,” you said as JJ fiddled with your fingers. “If we break it into pieces and take it to different pawnshops-”

“This will work, Elm,” John B said from the front. You nodded slowly. Overthinking again, you thought to yourself. No need to overthink everything.

When the van slowed to a stop, you felt your stomach flipped. This was the moment of truth. You got this money now, pay off JJ’s restitution, and then go get the rest of the gold. It was all going to work out. You had to believe that.

You hopped out of the van behind JJ as he pulled the gold out of his pocket.

“Hell of a job melting it down, Dr. Frankenstein,” JJ said, turning to look at Kie, who rolled her eyes.

“Like you could have done better.”

“I could have. I took a welding class.”

“You-” She narrowed her eyes at him and tilted her head to the side. “When?”

“Hey.” John B stepped between them. “Shh. Chill out, okay?”

“Easy for you to say,” JJ grumbled. “You’re not the one that has to sell this piece of shit off. How did I get this job anyway?”

“‘Cause you’re the best liar,” Pope said as they started toward the pawnshop. JJ glanced back at you and you shrugged, arms crossed. The Pogues had no reason to doubt you when you lied to them about all the things you lied to them about, so they would have no need to think that you were a pretty good liar. When they gave JJ the job, there was no way you were going to protest.

The six of you filed into the shop, JJ in the front.

“Afternoon, ma’am.”

Everyone spread out rather lamely, standing in front of different objects and pretending to actually care about what they were looking at. If there was anymore sneaking around and lying going on, you were definitely going to have to give them a few pointers as to how to act natural.

JJ spoke to the lady up front, trying his hardest to convince her that the gold was real before she even would talk about price. You tried to cover a laugh as he told a fake story about his mom melting down her earrings.

“Best liar my ass.” You shook your head, turning back to look at a wooden chicken on the wall. The woman at the cash register clearly didn’t believe him. She went to the back to talk to her boss, giving Pope and Kie time to go and talk to JJ. He looked back at you and you gave him a thumbs up, making him smile.

When the woman returned, she slid a piece of paper over to JJ.

“Fifty thousand?” JJ asked. You nearly choked, turning to look at them. JJ tried to negotiate, but the woman had her eyebrows raised. No one was really even trying to pretend that they weren’t paying attention anymore. He and the woman passed quips back and forth until the woman gave one last offer.

“70,” she said. Your heart leaped. “And I won’t ask where you got this.”

You tried to bite back a smile. JJ accepted. But then you hit another snag. The money wasn’t in the shop. She didn’t have the cash in the shop. As soon as she mentioned going to a warehouse, your smile fell. That didn’t sound right. There was something strange going on.

But you were probably overthinking things again. What reason did you have to doubt her? None of your friends did. You tried to shove down your concerns as John B drove to the address that the woman had given to JJ.

“They keep the gold all the way out here?” Pope asked.

“That’s what she said.” JJ laughed. “That’s what she said.”

You smiled, sitting on the floor by his side.

“Stop,” Pope said. Both your and JJ’s smiles dropped. Not the time for jokes, it seemed.

“I’ve never heard of Ressurection Drive,” Sarah said, turning back.

“Cause you’re rich,” JJ said.

“You haven’t heard of it either.”

You sat up straighter and looked out the window. The bad feeling in your stomach was starting to solidify. It was good to hear your friends starting to question this whole thing too. It made you feel a little less crazy.

A police siren startled all of you. Kie and Pope turned around to look at the car. You pushed yourself up, looking out of the back window.

“The cops? Out here?”

“Are you kidding me?” JJ shoved the gold back into his backpack.

“What did we do?” Sarah asked.

“That’s not a police car,” you said as John B pulled over. “No way any cops out here have a car like that.”

“JJ, did you bring the gun?” John B asked.

“No,” JJ zipped up his bag, throwing a blunt inside. “Everyone told me to leave it back at the place.”

“Thank god,” Kie sighed.

“That’s not a cop,” you said, watching the man get out of his car. JJ stood up and shoved the backpack into the hidden compartment beneath his seat. Your heart started to pound at the sight of the man walk toward the van. A black bandana stretched across his face. You shook your head a few times as the others argued about weed and making sure that it was all packed away.

You saw the gun too late. You didn’t have a good view of it until it was shoved through the front window right at John B’s face.

You froze, your entire body going rigid. JJ slowly moved his hand reaching down to grab yours. You didn’t take in a single breath until you felt him squeeze your hand once.

“All y’all’s hands up in the air now!” the man with the mask shouted. You swallowed a lump in your throat and lifted your hands slowly, pulling it from JJ’s grip.

“You, out,” the man said to John B. “Let them out!”

John B slid out of the car slowly, hands still raised in the air. He walked around to the van door and opened it slowly. Sarah walked out first, and then Pope, Kie, you, and JJ last. The man kept shouting, yelling for you to back up.

“We’re broke-” JJ started. The man pointed the gun straight at him.

“Shut the hell up!”

“Alright!” JJ shouted back. “Relax!”

But the more he spoke, the angrier the man got. Pope put his hands on JJ’s shoulders and pulled him backward. You ducked under JJ’s raised hands to stand between him and the man.

“I’ll blow your damn head off!” the man said.

“Okay. Okay, we’re moving,” you said, voice steady.

“Lay down in the ditch!” JJ hesitated, glaring at the man with the gun. “Get on your hands and knees!”

You lowered yourself to your knees, putting your hands behind your head. JJ slowly followed after you.

“It’s okay,” you whispered to him, watching his muscles shake as he resisted the urge to beat the hell out of the man. JJ heaved, his breath ragged and his jaw tight. His eyes flitted back and forth as the man walked back toward the van. You risked moving to place your hand on his arm. “Look at me.”

Slowly, JJ’s eyes moved to meet yours. There was so much anger in him. That anger might just get him killed.

“It’s okay,” you whispered again. “We’re okay.”

He softened slowly before nodding his head once.

“It’s a setup,” Kie whispered.

“The old bat shanked us,” JJ ground out through his teeth. You glanced up at the van, putting your hand back behind your head.

“John B,” you heard Pope whisper. You lifted your head, watching John B sneak off toward the fake cop car. “Don’t be a hero man!”

You put your head back down, keeping your breathing steady. Even when the man emerged from the van and started shouting again, you didn’t look up. Just keep breathing. Just keep breathing.

At the sound of a struggle, you looked up one last time. John B was in the back of the car, trying to take the gun from the man. JJ was on his feet, running toward the car, and you were just behind him.

“I got the gun!” John B called out just as you and JJ neared the car. JJ grabbed hold of the man, spinning him around. He ducked under a punch before hitting the man in the ribcage. The man hit JJ across the cheek, only to be greeted by you with a punch to the face. You hit him again before he shoved you backward. You tripped over your feet, hitting your head against the hard ground. Kie got to him next, giving him a good punch. John B used the gun to knock him off his feet.

“I got the gold!” Pope cried as Sarah slammed the car door into the guy’s head twice.

Your head buzzed with the sting of pain.

“C’mon,” Kie said, grabbing holding of your arm and helping you to your feet. Pope ran around the car and kicked the man in the face, knocking him onto his back. JJ walked over to you, putting a hand on your face and checking your eyes.

“I’m good,” you said. You turned back toward the man on the ground. John B yanked his bandana off of his face. JJ tensed.

“I know this piece of shit,” he growled. “He’s a basehead.”

“Probably knows my brother,” Sarah said with a sigh, running her hands through her hair.

“He sells coke to my dad.” JJ plucked the gun off the ground.

“Listen,” the man groveled, his voice slurred from the blood dripping down his nose. “I couldn’t hurt a single one of y’all-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before JJ jabbed the butt of the gun against his nose. Kie and Pope both yelled at him and John B took the gun from his hands, but you wouldn’t have cried if he did it again. The asshole on the ground deserved it.

“Let’s get out of here,” John B said. But JJ wasn’t done yet. He bent down and rummaged through the man’s pockets before pulling out a wallet.

“We got one last stop,” JJ said, shoving John B away from him and storming back to the car. You brought your hand up to your mouth. Beating the guy up was justified, sure, but he was down. No one except him got hurt. Pope had the gun. There was nothing else to be done. But JJ was on a warpath.

Kie looked at you as if you could somehow stop him, but you just shook your head.

“Let’s go see where this son of a bitch lives,” JJ called back.

“I’m gonna remember this!” the man yelled from the ground while you made your way back to the van. “You can’t hide from me! I know exactly who y’all are!”

You jumped into the back of the van, settling yourself into the seat where JJ had been sitting before. Putting your head in your hands, you decided that it was time to go back to listening to your gut. Overthinking or not, there was nothing wrong with playing it safe.

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xnchxntmxnt · 4 years ago

Note

Hey this is for your matchups which again yayyy congrats on nearly 200!! Anyways for my matchup:

1-3) My nickname is Em, she/her and idm who you pair me with

4) I'd describe myself as shy at first then once you get to know me I'll open up, an overthinker and I like to be organized

My hobbies are writing, I really love it alot, I also like to draw if I get time and I love music alot too

In a partner I'd look for someone who makes me laugh and who's patient

For dealbreakers it's pretty general but I couldn't be with someone who doesn't consider other ppl's feelings

5) I don't have an aesthetic but I like pastel aesthetics but then I also like dark aesthetics and light academia so it's a mix I guess

6) Colours to describe me would be teal blue and silver, well according to you anyways

7) Right now I'd say my favourite song is Tru Luv Street by Awfultune or Fight Night Champion by Cyberbully Mom Club

8) Idk about a specific genre but some artists I like rn are: Awfultune, Carpetgarden, Cavetown, Clem Turner, Cyberbully Mom Club, Girl in Red, Joji, Lorde, Matt Maltese and Twenty One Pilots (sorry that's alot)

9) Ooh and I wanted to include that my favourite book is Radio Silence by Alice Oseman

Thank you in advance and also ily, you deserve all the love and more!! <3

EM MY BELOVED I HAVE DONE IT

@sugasfanfics this was so fun wtf like-- ugh i love this

ANYWAY i know i already kinda spilled the beans but im gonna match you with....

✧𝐴𝑘𝑎𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑖 𝐾𝑒𝑖𝑗𝑖✧

AGASHIII

and no it's not just because you're already in love w him i have good reasoning behind this because i said so anyWAY

✧𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑀𝑒𝑡✧

how you met, for in case you cant see my fancy text

Cafe

C a f e

But like

A cafe specifically for nerds

This is just my like 2nd dream job okay but like hear me out

They have coffee & tea & a bookshelf full of old books and a chalkboard

You can write all over the chalkboard

You write super tiny and just let a little mini vent out in the corner because you’re stressed out and need to get everything off your chest

BUT you come back the next day and there’s a little note in the same little corner

Your message is gone

But instead is a little note from someone

“If you ever need to talk to someone, let me know”

And an Instagram username

So you give it a shot and you’re like why not talk to this random person Y’know maybe make a new friend if anything just thank them for the offer

You message him and start talking (and low key stalk his page just to see what he’s like, or maybe that’s just me being a snoop) and he’s actually really cool! So you guys meet up and get coffee and actually start talking all the time it’s really sweet

✧𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠✧

general headcanons

When i think of akaashi, I think of stars

When i think of you, i think of picnics and for some reason, water

Like the ocean

SO EVEN IF ITS NOT THE OCEAN

Your ‘spot’ is by this lake where he took you on a date one time

Maybe for an anniversary or something

But you guys did a little picnic dinner thing and were out when the sun went down so sat and stared at the stars

You buried a rock there and both of you like to stand on that spot where the rock is when youre there with the other

Or send the other a picture like “hiii baby look what i found” w your shoe in the picture

Bokuto is your #1 shipper high key

Like he thinks you two are so cute

He loves you so much too like

He and akaashi are kinda a package deal so like if ur dating akaashi ur dating bokuto just with less kissing (bokuto likes to kiss your cheek or forehead) (after making sure this was ok with akaashi of course) (ur his girlfriend of course)

But anyway just bokuto

He’s so sweet

And so clueless

You two will be walking together and then he’ll just walk up behind you and sling his arms over your shoulders

If youre holding hands w akaashi? He’ll put his hand over both of yours

God now i wanna write a fic but anyway

Bo is just the sweetest and is akaashi’s #1 hype man when he’s worried about a date

He’s ur #2 bc im ur #1 sorry to tell u

Bo totally tried to coin the platonic soulmates thing i love you kou but gtfo my em

Im arguing with fictional characters

ANYWAY

When akaashi is stressed he likes to wrap his arms around you and lay his head against your neck

He’ll never admit it out loud because he thinks its weird but he thinks you smell nice

When he’s starting to overthink too much + spiral he just will grab you and hug you until all the bad thoughts go away

When he thinks to of course

When he doesn’t, there are times you gotta find him and calm him down

Which he loves so much

Sit him down on the floor so he feels more grounded and hold his hand (or hook pinkies that's so cute i jhbflebf) (not the time spencer gtfo)

That way ur not crowding him but you’re still there y'know

And sometimes he’ll talk, sometimes you need to talk him down, sometimes you just sit in silence

Eventually he will lean forward into you and hug you because he doesn't want to talk, but he wants you to know he’s okay

Rub his back, kiss his head, you’ll both be okay

He’s really good with you too

When you’re stressed out he might push a couple buttons but he means well

He just wants to know who made his star upset (he calls you his star or darling convince me otherwise)

So he pushes buttons until you finally talk about it because obviously it’s bothering you why wouldn't you talk about it?? He just wants to fix it??

Sometimes this gets more irritating, sometimes it helps, it depends on the day

But even if you do get into an argument, expect to hear from him before the end of the night apologizing because he feels so bad for arguing with you that he doesn’t even care what the argument was about he just wants to make sure you still love him

I think im getting off topic but tbh this part is always just me rambling lol

Another thing I think of when I think of akaashi is rain. I don't know why but i do

You have to at least know OF the notebook & the rain scene to get this

I don't know the book lol i just know this much and i'm a dork so we’re using it & some quotes just a heads up

But just imagine its pouring and you’re bored and text him like “i wish i could see you but its raining & we didn't really make plans & i don't want you to get caught in the rain anywhere”

This mfer

RUNS ALL THE WAY TO UR HOUSE

JUST SHOWS UP

OUT OF NO WHERE

And being the freakin

book nerd he is

He texts you and goes “I wrote you 365 letters.”

And then just “(come to the door and I’ll finish the quote)”

So you bolt to the front door

And there he is

Soaking wet & smiling like an idiot

“I wrote to you everyday for a year.”

To which you start laughing and barley are able to make out a “it wasn’t over’ (which is the beginning of the next quote) before kissing him

And this jerk pulls you out in the rain with him because WHAT is more romantic than kissing in the rain

Nothing

Anyway he ends up with a cold but you give him some of the clothes you probably stole from him to get into dry clothes and you cuddle under the covers with tea

After you smack him (playfully of course) because “you IDIOT keiji it's pouring out here!!” “I wanted to see you too so i ran over” “you're impossible”

Anyway yeah #emkaashiotp

✧𝐴 𝐷𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝐼𝑑𝑒𝑎✧

a date idea

Bookstore

I'm really good at naming places aren't i

Anyway

Bookstore date

But do something fun where the two of you have to go through an aisle and find a random page and read it in the like

How do i explain this

Make it sound suuuuper sexual without it actually being that way and not laugh

Whoever loses buys lunch

Lets just say you lose a lot dear im sorry (he insists on buying anyway, sometimes he wins that argument)

You’re smiley :) (guys her smile is so cute ebflbejfb em ILY)

Oh also doesn’t matter if he bought lunch or not he always gets you something

Whether it be that book you decided you couldn't get this time or a little trinket that reminded him of you, or sometimes it’s just ice cream

It’s all very sweet (hahaha pun)

He always walks you home and gives you a little kiss when he drops you off

Doesn’t leave till you’re inside & he knows you’re good

You make him promise to text you when he gets home

Which he does, without fail

✧𝑍𝑜𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑐 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦✧

zodiac compatibility

Sagittariuses are very intelligent, fair-minded & honest, similar to a Libra’s cleverness & rationale. Because of this similarity, trust is a huge thing in these relationships. It can be all or nothing, but finding balance is important to keep both people happy. Luckily, Libras are very good at this. From everything I’ve seen, these signs together have a very high compatibility and can have a very long-withstanding and healthy relationship.

✧𝐴𝑒𝑠𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑐✧

aesthetic

✧𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡✧

playlist

House of Gold - Twenty-One Pilots

Lvr Boy - awfultune

A Shitty Love Song - Jye

Darling Get Up - awfultune

Something Just Like This - Alex Goot

✧𝑅𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑈𝑝✧

runners up

Nishinoya Yuu, Sugawara Koushi

#//ᴍᴀᴛᴄʜᴜᴘꜱ

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slashhinginghasher · 4 years ago

Text

Midnight Star - Chromeskull x OFC - Part 8: The Greater of Three Evils

wow another chapter six months later. much shock. so surprise

Big TW for NONCON at the end of this chapter. Please read with caution.

This work is on Ao3!

Summary: Worst first date ever.

***

Her reward was a bedroom and a fat, juicy orange the size of both her fists. The orange came first; Cromeans produced it from some hidden jacket pocket and placed it in her lap with exaggerated delicacy. For a half-second, she was afraid he’d leave her there to stare uselessly at the piece of fruit until she caved and asked him to free her hands - or worse, to fucking feed her - but he unlocked her left wrist and… left.

Every instinct told her to rip into the orange before it could be taken away, but she forced herself to go slow. Having gone down the starvation route more times than a person should, she knew that stuffing her face would just lead to everything coming back up a few minutes later. She removed the peel in small, methodical pieces while her stomach growled at her like a rabid dog. Then she neatly sectioned one wedge from its neighbors and, self-control over, shoved the whole thing in her mouth. It was a good thing she was alone because she really didn’t want to cry in front of any of these bastards, but fuck, it was a good orange.

And then the brunette woman named Spann had to ruin it by walking in with another entourage of black-clad assholes. The tension that had marginally left Marena’s shoulders came back full force. Spann smiled at her again. Marena was really starting to hate that smile. It was indulgent and slightly condescending, the sort of subtle smugness that came from a person who knew they had damn well earned the right to be smug.

“You aren’t going to do anything stupid, are you?” Spann asked in a pleasant voice that suggested that she knew the correct answer, and that it would be better for Marena’s structural integrity if she also knew the correct answer. Marena was sorely tempted to spit a mouthful of half-chewed pulp in the other woman’s face, but that would have definitely fallen under the category of “stupid”, and besides, it was a really good orange. Instead, she silently held the brunette’s gaze, blank-faced, unmoving, unblinking, which she had been told by multiple people was “really fucking creepy.”

“Good,” Spann said, like she was praising a child. She nodded to one of the assholes who, to Marena’s credit, looking mildly terrified as he unlocked the other cuff. Marena jerked the newly freed hand into her lap just to watch him flinch at the sharp movement, because she was also kind of an asshole.

“Can you walk?” There was a solid chance that the answer to that question was “no”, but like fuck was Marena going to tell any of them that. She pushed back the sheets, noting with distaste that the sluttish excuse for a nightgown she’d been dressed in didn’t even hit mid-thigh, and carefully swung her legs over the side of the bed. The tile floor was cold against her bare, blistered feet, which was about the only thing that felt good at the moment. The motion had sent her head into a throbbing, nauseated whirl. Her weakened muscles burned and cramped. But she’d done a lot more with a lot worse, so she told her body to shut the hell up and pushed herself fully upright. Her right leg buckled slightly, and she leaned her hip against the railing of the bed like she’d meant to do that all along. Spann wasn’t fooled, but she played along.

“Follow me, then.”

Marena wanted to put up a fight. She wanted to be difficult, and violent, and savage. But she was tired. She didn’t know where she was. She didn’t know what was going to happen to her, although it was probably going to be very unpleasant. And she had talked. A lot. There was a deep, dull ache in each of her shoulders and she could feel the memories hovering around her, waiting for her to fall asleep so they could dive in and eat what was left of her from the inside out. She shouldn’t have caved. She should have let him rape and torture her until she died, and taken all her shitty secrets with her to the grave.

There was also the pride-rankling fact that Mr. Cromeans had gotten more out of her in a matter of days than a trained therapist had in more than two years. Maybe if they taught psychiatrists how to throw a punch, they’d be more effective.

They reached the bedroom by elevator because apparently her captor was the kind of jackass to have an elevator in his fucking house. Spann didn’t say another word, a small blessing since Marena didn’t think she could handle any conversational attempts without making something bleed. Her legs gave out moments after Spann and the Faceless Muscle Squad shut the door behind her. She pressed her face into the carpet (very plush, very soft) and allowed herself to give in to the absolute, soul-obliterating panic for a count of ten. Then she forced herself upright and took stock.

The room was small (by rich people standards) and sparsely furnished (by rich people standards). The carpet was black, the walls painted deep red like a cheesy vampire movie. The bed, dresser, and wardrobe were all carved out of dark wood and were too heavy for Marena to move, especially in her current physical condition of suck. The single window was made of thick, possibly bulletproof, glass, and seemed unopenable. A peek through the slats of the blinds offered a view of a large interior courtyard and a sunset-painted sky. Even if she could get the window open, there would be no escape that way.

She didn’t bother looking for cameras. She knew they’d be there.

The attached bathroom was almost as big as the main room, with white marble floors shot through with gold. The bathtub and shower were huge, big enough for three people. Or one normal-sized person and one freakishly large person, but if she thought about that for too long she’d start spiralling. At least a dozen different hair products sat in the metal shower caddy, most of which Marena had no idea what to do with, and she’d bet Cromeans didn’t either, since he was fucking bald. Maybe he’d had someone (Spann?) buy them, or maybe they were leftover from the mysterious Veronica that Preston had so obviously wanted to taunt her with. It didn’t take a genius to guess that the woman was most likely dead.

Lucky bitch.

A huge mirror was set into the wall above the bathroom sink, but she didn’t walk far enough forward for it to catch her reflection. Marena avoided mirrors as a general rule; she’d covered the one in her shithole apartment with an old bedsheet. Seeing her face tended to fuck her up on a good day, and in her current state… it might break her, and she couldn’t afford to break right now. She returned to the main room and faced the wardrobe with the trepidation of someone about to open a box that might or might not contain a dead body. The wooden doors mocked her as she stood there, clenching and flexing her fingers. She took a deep breath that wasn’t remotely fortifying and threw them open.

Lace. Lace and tulle and silk because men, rich men, were so fucking predictable it was disgusting. Her gaze caught on a baby blue dress and she slammed the doors shut, staggering backwards until she hit the bed, and then the ground. She couldn’t even look in the direction of the dresser, although she had a fairly good idea of what it contained and it made her want to rip all those pretty dresses to ribbons and hang herself with them. The pain in her shoulders was radiating down her arms and across her back, but she couldn’t rub the ache away without feeling the ghost of the House Master’s touch as he did up the buttons of her dress after Hana changed out the bandages, his perfect pretty little kukolka, and he did always love her in blue... She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted Hana back, and the grief was so heavy it was crushing her, like so much dirt over a grave.

Marena curled in on herself and tried not to fall apart.

***

Her well-deserved panic attack was interrupted sometime later when the door unlocked with an electronic whir and a heavy click. She pressed her back against the wall, waiting for someone - something - to come through, but the door remained shut. Second after excruciating second crept by with no sign of movement. Marena remained huddled on the floor, fists clenched, jaw clenched, hackles up like a dog ready to lunge.

Seconds turned to minutes, and she got bored.

So much of Marena’s life had been spent in a state of torturous waiting. Waiting for Guests to arrive or leave. Waiting for the villagers to let her out of the river. Waiting for the beatings to stop. Waiting for the various devils in her life to fall asleep so she could slip away for a single moment of solitude. She was tired of waiting, and as much as she didn’t want to face whatever hell was about to be inflicted on her, she could not stand to spend one more moment suspended in this agony of uncertainty.

Pushing herself to her feet, she inched her way to the door, preparing to kick in the fucking kneecaps of whoever was on the other side. But there was only an empty corridor and a piece of paper on the floor.

Fourth door on the right.

The obvious choice was to go to the left, then, where a break in the wall indicated a stairway or another hallway. Or was it obvious? Maybe Cromeans was trying to lure her in that direction by giving her orders to do the opposite, expecting her to disobey. So then the thing to do would be to go to the right, to avoid whatever was on the left. Although that didn’t mean that the right was safe. Perhaps Cromeans was so supremely confident in her inability to escape that he just expected she’d end up where she was told. She didn’t know the layout of the house, and if the car had been any indication, her captor was a technophile. That meant cameras, alarm systems, remote locks, maybe even booby traps. Was that something people did outside of movies? Okay. So assuming both directions were bad news, why leave any options open? Why not send an escort? Perhaps it came down to obedience. Disobey and you get punished; obey and you deserve whatever happens to you because you went willingly?

Fuck. She hated mind games. She barely had a grasp on what happened in her own head, let alone somebody else’s.

She could always remove herself from the situation completely. Lie down in that nice, big bathtub and take a few deep breaths until everything went watery and dark. Marena’s will to live was driven by spite more than anything else, but it was - save for one or two notable exceptions - iron-clad and unshakeable. She wasn’t afraid to die, but was she ready to make that final surrender?

It was the cameras that decided it for her, in the end. They were well-hidden in the room, but she could see a few small, red lights blinking in the gloom of the hallway. Cromeans was probably watching her right now, and if he really was just a few doors down, then he’d have plenty of time to foil a suicide attempt. And plenty of motivation to rain unholy hell down upon her when she woke. Men like him didn’t like it when their toys were taken away prematurely. Trying to rob him of the pleasure of orchestrating her death would end up very, very ugly. For her.

You don’t get to kill what is mine.

Marena shuddered and instinctively wrapped an arm around her midriff as she pushed the memory away. She was already going to have nightmares about bullets and pearl-handled guns the next time she slept; she didn’t need to add her nasty little suicide attempt to the queue. Of course, it was perfectly plausible that she would die before she got a chance to sleep again, or that Cromeans had something planned that would eclipse either of those in its awfulness. She ripped the note to shreds, trying to find some sense of control in the tiny act of destruction, and headed for the fourth door on the right.

It was some sort of lounge, all dark earth tones and metal accents. The center of the room was dominated by a dark, heavy slab of a wooden table that could easily seat twenty people. There was a lit fireplace to her right (which had to be fake, because who in the fuck could ever feel cold here?), heavy drapes blocking the far wall, something that looked like a home bar, and honestly, all of the details of this god-awful hell house were starting to blur together and she just couldn’t bring herself to give a shit about interior decorating.

A hand shot out from her periphery, slapping another pair of metal handcuffs on her wrists before she could even twitch, and the only coherent thought her overworked brain could produce was “Was he hiding behind the fucking door?”

Cromeans looked terribly pleased with himself as he ushered her towards a seat at the table. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt that made it very apparent that yes, his biceps were bigger than her goddamn thighs, which was just fucking excessive, honestly. Heavy metal was playing in the background, a looping, ever-shifting soundscape of electric guitar, drums, and male aggression. Marena was normally quite partial to the genre, but a headache was building behind her eyes, and all this “friendly” buildup made her sure that whatever was going to happen to her tonight would be that much worse.

In a testament to how absolutely out of it she was, she didn’t notice the food on the table until she was seated right in front of it. Meat, greens, bread, wine. More of those heavenly oranges. She ate mechanically, ignoring the wine, refusing to look up at Cromeans where he sat on the other side of the table. It all tasted like glue and stuck in her throat the same way. If they were two normal people on a regular date, it would have been the most awkward first date in history. They barely qualified as people, though, let alone normal, and Marena could only wish Cromeans was feeling even a little uncomfortable. Smug fucker was probably having the time of his life.

Her steak knife sat heavy and tempting in her hand, but there wasn’t much she could do with it. The chain between her wrists was about 18 inches long, enough for her to eat without much trouble, but too short to throw a knife or a punch without an obvious and awkward windup. If Cromeans wasn’t such a stupidly big man, she’d try to choke him out with the chain. But she would need a damn ladder to reach around his neck while he was standing, and she doubted she’d be able to get behind him while he was sitting.

Cromeans stood and smirked as Marena clumsily pushed to her feet after him, desperate to close the height gap between them even slightly. He sauntered over to the bar, holding up two empty glasses and quirking a brow in question. Marena nodded. He turned his back to her and started fiddling with bottles and shakers and… cocktail things. She snatched up the steak knife and crept towards him, drawing on every bit of stealth she’d honed while hunting and hiding as a child. He knew she was weak right now, unlikely to try or succeed at any sort of physical attack. His hands would be full with both glasses, slowing his reaction time by a crucial fraction of a second. His right side was a blind spot. She would sneak up behind him and stab him in the throat when he turned around, and hopefully he wouldn’t be able to snap her neck before he bled out.

She drew as close as she dared. Stilled her breath. Stilled the knife, both hands wrapped white-knuckle tight around the handle. He turned. She lunged. Glass shattered. Her arms weren’t moving.

He caught it.

He caught the fucking knife.

Oh. BLYAT’.

If she thought the look on his face after kicking him in the balls was scary, it had nothing on the way he was looking at her now. Blood trickled between his fingers as he tightened his grip on the blade before wrenching it out of Marena’s grasp and tossing it aside.

There was a flash of silver. Moving purely on instinct, Marena threw her hands up, stopping the other, bigger knife he’d pulled from somewhere with the chain of her cuffs. Her arms shook with strain, the cuffs biting into the tender skin of her wrists. With a deft motion, Cromeans twisted the knife, wrapping the chain around its serrated blade until Marena’s hands were pressed together, all slack gone. Using the knife as a handle, he forced her backwards, step by step, until she was pressed against the table. Dishes were sent crashing to the floor with a mighty sweep of his arm, and then she was laid out on the table’s surface. Cromeans stabbed the knife into the dark wood, then yanked her back towards him until her arms were stretched above her head and her hips were at the edge of the table.

Panic opened like a yawning abyss in her chest, the sheer scope of her terror threatening to swallow her whole when Cromeans produced another knife and brought down near the scar on one of her shoulders. But he didn’t stab it into the old bullet wound the way she’d expected. Instead, he sliced through the straps of her silk shift and pulled the fabric down with a vicious tug that left her completely bare to his gaze, which was fast shifting from rage to pure, undiluted lust. He devoured her, drinking in the sight of her naked body like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. She wanted to say as much, but fear - and habit - had her voice in a vice grip.

He forced her legs open and stepped between her thighs as he dragged his hands over her hips, his injured hand leaving smears of blood in its wake. The table was tall enough that Marena’s toes barely brushed the ground; she had no leverage with which to kick him or push herself away. She flinched at the first touch of his hand between her legs, hating herself for reacting but unable to stop it. The first brush of his thumb over her clit was feather-light. The second was firmer and dragged a bone-deep shudder from her. With the exception of an asshole cop who got a little too handsy while frisking her, Marena hadn’t had any prolonged human contact in four years, and her touch-starved body didn’t know whether to pull away or lean into the pleasure. The result was an ineffectual jerk that did nothing but bring an infuriating smirk to Cromeans’ face.

And the knife moved, just a little.

Marena took a deep, shuddering breath, followed by an equally shaky exhale, shifting her hips slightly as though in surrender. Cromeans was tracing tingling patterns around her slit, drawing enough moisture that he could almost slip a finger inside. When she was certain his attention was fixed entirely on her cunt, she wrapped her fingers around the knife and began to work it free. The serrated edges of the blade cut into her fingertips immediately, hot sparkles of pain shooting down her fingers. She ignored it, just as she ignored the inexorable dance of the fingers between her legs and the building heat in her core. She just had to get the knife free, and then this nightmare would be over, one way or another.

So close, so close, so close…

Cromeans’ fist slammed down on the hilt of the knife, forcing it several inches deeper into the wood, and buried his cock in her at the same moment. Marena nearly bit through her tongue at the sudden painful stretch. She couldn’t breathe; he was in her and around her and god why did every fucking part of him have to be so big? He didn’t give her time to adjust before starting a brutal pace, long, hard strokes that stole her breath and dragged against every nerve ending in her pussy. One huge hand was splayed across her abdomen; Marena thought he must be able to feel himself moving inside her through her stomach. The other wrapped around her throat, tight enough to choke but not enough to let her black out.

She tried in vain to disconnect, to retreat behind the walls she’d spent so many years building in her mind. But Cromeans had added a twist to his hips that brushed against a spot inside her and made her see stars. The jolts of pleasure pulled her back to herself, made it impossible to divorce her mind from her body. Something hot and wonderful and terrible was building inside her. She wanted it to stop. She was being smothered and she wanted everything to stop.

Cromeans reached down to circle her clit once more, and the tension snapped. The orgasm rushed over her like a wildfire. A tsunami. A supernova. Marena was dimly aware of the way her back arched as her inner muscles clenched around Cromeans’ hard length. A strangled, keening gasp that escaped her throat just before he tightened his grip enough to completely cut off her air, pelvis grinding against hers as he chased his own release. Each stuttering thrust sent aftershocks of pleasure-pain skittering through her body. Her vision was starting to tunnel when he bottomed out for the final time and came with a growl that she felt more than heard.

He remained seated inside her for a long minute, breathing hard and supporting himself on one forearm. The hand around her throat eased from a choking grip to soothing strokes, like he could wipe away the lurid bruises already forming with a gentle enough touch. At last, he pulled out and tucked himself away. He wrenched the knife out of the table and pulled Marena into a sitting position. Her body was quivering, boneless; she doubted she’d have been able to sit up on her own. Cromeans pressed a chaste, lingering kiss to her mouth as he unlocked the cuffs. Then he ran two fingers through the mess of cum and blood coating her inner thighs and licked the digits clean with a wink.

He turned his back and poured himself another drink.

***

Marena didn’t remember leaving the lounge. Didn’t remember staggering down the hall. She had no idea how long she’d been standing in the doorway of her bathroom, swaying slightly and staring blankly at the wall. The stickiness between her thighs had mostly dried, smears of pale pink that matched the tender places where the denim of Cromeans’ pants had rubbed her skin raw. Her hands and wrists were covered in drying blood, fresh rivulets still seeping from the angry marks left by the cuffs.

She raised a shaking hand to her mouth, feeling the ghost of his scarred lips on hers, and her guts knotted violently. She lurched forward, dropping to her knees in front of the toilet just in time to vomit up everything she’d ever eaten in her life. Then she turned on the shower as cold as it would go and stood under the freezing spray until her lips turned blue.

#this is gross and i am very sorry #also it's really hard to write smut when you're a virgin #my writing #jesse cromeans #chromeskull #laid to rest #marena polunochnaya #slasher oc #not sure if im going to continue this tbh #not to be fishing for comments or anything but the lack of response is... disappointing #the brain effort that goes into making the words pretty just doesn't feel worth it if no one else cares

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tessarichardss · 4 years ago

Text

new york’s very own tessa richards was spotted on broadway street , with a striking semblance to zoey deutch ! you may know them as @tessarichards or hitting the front page of tmz as ex-reality star rumored to have moved to new york for an internship with hassenfeld children’s hospital . according to tmz , you just had your twenty-fourth birthday bash . while living in nyc , you’ve been labeled as being guarded , but also tenderhearted . things that would paint a better picture of you would be endless nights you’ll never forget, sunflowers, running barefoot through an open field . ( cisfemale + she/her ) + ( saxon , twenty-six , she/her , cst )

Out Of Character

Hello bbies! 🥰 My name is Saxon and I’d like you to meet the absolute labor of my love Tessa and love her even though she doesn’t deserve it! We are always open for connections, ideas or plots so please, please, please do not hesitate to hit me up if you want to conjure something up with this lovable and ridiculous energetic puppy. I look forward to roleplaying with you and your children!

Basic Information

Full Name: Tessa Grace Richards.

Nickname(s): Tess.

Birthday: Febuary 10th, 1996.

Orientation: Heterosexual.

Language(s) Spoken: English, Spanish.

Background

So Tessa was born to an unwed couple who were in their mid 30′s at the time, her mom thought the two of them were hopelessly in love until Tessa was four and dude just dipped? Her mom came home one day and all his stuff was gone, no note or anything, he drained their account and they haven’t ever heard from him since.

This obviously fucked Tessa up young because she has mad issues with love meaning anything and also abandonment, like she definitely doesn’t sleep well at night because she spent years waking up and running to the window every time she saw car lights, thinking it was him coming home.

Her mom is an absolute saint of a woman however (think Lorelai from Gilmore Girls meets Donna Sheridan from Mamma Mia), just an absolute quirky angel of a woman who definitely took in and helped abandoned animals but was also the place all the kids in town knew they could go if they had shitty parents/living situations or just a bad day and they needed a safe place to go? So obviously she stepped up and took down all dudes pictures and just raised Tessa like the single boss she is.

Tessa grew up into like an angel of a kid but oh buddy was she a chaotic one. Total tomboy, full of insane energy and personality, always on the move and exploring and doing things she shouldn’t be. Definitely the type to show up back at home as the suns going down just covered in dirt and bumps and bruises. 100% knocked her own baby teeth out from falling and slamming her face and had two front silver teeth as a little kid.

She was never very girly and because she grew up in this southern town that was just full of very critical asshole kids from more well-off families than her own was, particularly the girls who were very prissy, she definitely ended up clicking more with boys and quickly became ‘one of the guys’. Like undoubtedly had an all male friend group and was definitely the girl that girlfriends would be paranoid about while all the dudes were like confused as to how their girls were jealous because Tessa was just like another guy/little sibling, there was no interest on either end.

She had two shitty relationships as a teenager, the first cheated on her because she wasn’t ready to have sex and then the second whom she actually gave it up to, turned out to just be with her on a bet to see how long it would take him to get in her pants? She ended up punching dude in the face when she found out and broke his nose and asshole’s family actually wanted to press charges until Mama Richards shut the shit down.

TW: SUICIDE ATTEMPT MENTION Has slight anger management issues? Like she’s chill but when she blows up man does she blow up. Pushed a girl down a flight of stairs at school after she made a remark about a friend who had tried to commit suicide, the family did press charges this time and Tessa had to go to anger management classes and serve community service hours. She also got kicked out of school and just decided not to go back, went online and just got her GED at seventeen instead.

She was (and still is) very close and attached to her mom, absolute most important person in her life, but she worried about her so much her mom realized she probably wasn’t ever planning on leaving? So her mom got the help of her friends and they actually filled out an application for her to go onto a reality tv show? Seems crazy but each season took place in a different part of the world and her mom knew she wanted to travel but would never make the decision herself so when she got cast her mom was just like “lol here you go bye now”.

She hated it at first because she had grown so used to Texas and the country and her friends and making sure her mom was okay that it gave her a lot of anxiety and stress but she actually fell in love with it? Made a lot of close friends, became a fan favorite of sorts and would you believe it, the dumbass fell in love.

This boy wormed his way into her heart and it was a kind of a slightly unstable relationship because she would try and push away from him and her feelings but he always drew her back? He even proposed after like months of them being together and she panicked and ran but still he drew her back and they agreed that they should chill with the idea of engagement/marriage? He ended up leaving the show after like their fourth messy break up? And she, would you believe it, followed. The two ended up sleeping together but she was overly aware of the fact that he wasn’t actually in love with her anymore so she saved herself any awkward conversation and further heartbreak by just dipping before he woke up.

After this, Tessa returned to Texas and spent a solid week just out partying and drinking with friends and suddenly - BAM, she was having a one night stand with a complete stranger which was rather out of pocket for her and then even more suddenly - BAM, a pregnancy with no clue as to who the child’s father was. Thankfully it ended up being the one night stand’s and he turned out to be an incredible guy and father.

Obviously she never returned to the show and focused instead on becoming a mother and setting up a future for herself and her child.

She’s always been a big fan of kids (worked for a daycare after school, actually helped start up a charity that works with orphans/orphanages while on the show) and so she decided that she wanted to be a child life specialist and started attending school during her pregnancy and the two years that followed.

She ended up having a little girl named Addison, this child is her whole world and she’s 1000% the mom that posts about their kid too much on social media but she’s 100% turned Tessa’s life around and helped her mature in ways she wouldn’t have without her and she just loves her kid more than anything/anyone else.

She assumed her life would remain in Texas until a trip to New York a few months back to visit Alex Morgan (who remarked on the fact that she should move in) ended with her packing up her daughter and her bags within less than a month and landing her in the state for the foreseeable future.

She’s currently continuing her last year of school through online classes in order to get her bachelors while interning at the Hassenfeld Children’s Hospital.

Personality

A dork? Literally the biggest dork, the dorkiest of dorks, just a whole friggen dork. This child rambles like you wouldn’t believe and her mouth 100% works faster than her brain so like you never know what to expect but she’s just a happy, friendly, sarcastic little bean with social anxiety and a heart of gold tbh.

Also an aggressive lil’ lady though, like 12/10 chance she’ll throw hands if you want to fuck with or say something about the people she loves.

A chaotic soul as well like down to party and have a good time and will definitely drink a dude under the table, definitely broke her ribs two summers in a row from a drinking game because this child doesn’t know when to slow down or chill out, she’s just trying to live.

Emotional as hell, like definitely cries during commercials and Disney movies, but like if you’re trying to tap into her serious emotions she’s gonna shut that shit down. She keeps people locked out tbh and just jokes about the serious shit in her life if she does talk about it.

Desired Connections

Friends? This is tricky because she was basically in Texas for most of her life and then traveling? But someone who lived in/visited Texas and they met? Someone she met while filming the show in some random country - they were living there or traveling and met while she was out and about one day? Maybe someone she met through her charity work? Someone who has a kid or a younger sibling/niece/nephew/godchild who she took care of at the hospital or even on a home visit and they met her/know her that way?

Exes? So her most recent ex is off limits because it’s based off a real connection but like either of her exes from high school? The first one would have had to have lived in Texas for some time but the latter could have been visiting friends/family for a summer? If anyone has a character that works for these I’m down for the drama, especially the second because Tessa is fully ready to break dude’s nose again.

Half siblings? So Tessa’s dad basically bailed when she was little - maybe he had another family? Could have had a kid before her who he also bailed on, could have started a family during the same time or after, he could have stayed there for them or bailed on them as well? They could know about Tessa, or neither could know about the other? Tessa pry wouldn’t know about them because she made it a point to never bother searching for this man let alone any family but literally I’m down for whatever other ideas you’ve got on this one!

Honestly Tessa needs some guy friends! Like I said she’s always been very much more one of the guys - would rather be drinking a beer watching a sports game and yelling than going on a shopping spree okay she has 0 interest, and since she moved from home she needs a new guy group to cause trouble with but also, who makes a better wing woman than a girl okay? Chaos friend but also mom friend rolled into one because she will get involved in shenanigans but will also call you out for acting dumb too.

Also here’s some open, wanted musing connection ideas; https://tessarichardsmusings.tumblr.com/tagged/tessa-%2B-open

#wealthyhq:intro #i feel like this got long and i only speak in nonsense rambles so hopefully it makes even a sliver of sense

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idyllicstarker · 5 years ago

Note

Idea: Starker Tattoos

Heya.. so umm, this ask was made, a long time ago. But I actually did finally do it! I know it isn’t exactly what you had in mind, but it is what came from it, so I hope you enjoy it!!

Warnings: Slightly fem!peter, daddy kink, one mention of the word homophobia, light smut, foul language

| Part two

“It’s just a tattoo, I don’t see what your problem is!”

The frustration in Peter’s tone was evidently getting stronger, his pitch increasing the longer this conversation went on, because for the life of him he couldn’t understand why Tony wouldn’t just let him get it. The longer he argued the more worked up he was getting. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument after all, and Peter was at his last straw by now.

“Well, answer me then, what’s your problem?”, he repeated, his tone firm, but increasingly strained, choked up from the emotion. Peter could never fight with Tony without getting emotional. No matter how angry he was, he could not physically argue with him without tears appearing. He hated it, because he hated seeming weak when he was trying to be strong. The nature of their relationship already meant that Tony barely took him seriously when he was trying to be authoritative; to Tony he was being nothing more than a bratty baby. But Peter wasn’t, he was genuinely

“I don’t have a problem with you getting a tattoo Peter. I just..”

Tony trailed off, letting out a sigh. He was tired, today had been a long day. He’d got through seven clients, which may not seem like a lot, but each tattoo had intricate detail, colour, and perfection. It had been a long day of concentrating, and he just wanted to rest his eyes. His migraine wasn’t helping at all, and as he learnt against the counter in his tattoo shop he found his eyes closing without his control.

As Peter watched with narrowed eyes, he scoffed, and shook his head. “You’re infuriating”, he muttered quietly to himself, turning around to grab his jacket from the communal hooks in the store. It was a small pink leather jacket, the lapel in which was dazzled with sparkling diamonds. It matched the pink thigh highs he was sporting, his white body-con dress revealing his milky thighs. When Peter had bounced into the store as the day was ending, Tony couldn’t help but lick his lips, ready to bend Peter over this very counter and fuck him right then and there. But he had to wait until Bucky (his employee and friend) to leave, and by the time he did, Tony managed to muster the self control to wait until they were back home at least. But he knew he was getting nothing tonight after this disagreement.

“Baby, come on now, where are you going? Let me just lock up and we can leave”, Tony begged, just wanting this conversation to be over. Even if he ended up not getting laid tonight, he at least wanted to curl up in their bed (or at this point maybe he’d be sleeping on the couch) knowing that Peter was safe inside their shared walls. And if he was lucky, with a little bit of coaxing and pampering, a warm bath with bubbles, and some of that cheap red wine he’d bought the other day, he’d be buried inside Peter’s walls.

Slowly approaching the smaller male, he pressed up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. He was gentle enough to not hurt him, but firm enough so that Peter couldn’t squirm away like he tried to do.

“Get off me, you’ve pissed me off enough today, I’m going to Ned’s”, he hissed, which Tony only groaned at. His warm breath tickled the side of Peter’s neck, a shiver rolling over his body as his hairs stood up, the boy letting out a submissive whimper.

The sound made Tony smirk - already the boy was melting and it had barely taken any work.

“I’m sure Ned can’t take care of you like daddy can”, he growled huskily against his ear. He knew the boy top to bottom, knowing exactly what to do to make him weak. And like suspected, Peter was already leaning back against him for support. All it took was one rough push of Tony’s crotch against his ass, to have the boy letting out a moan.

“Fine, but I want a bath”, he grumbled, his cheeks pink with embarrassment knowing he’d given up way too easily. But he couldn’t exactly show up to Ned’s with the front of his dress straining against his prominent bulge.

Tony chuckled softly against his neck, his tongue slipping from his lips to lick over the warm skin slowly. He licked all the way up to his ear, letting out a soft moan once he reached it, as if Peter was the most delicious snack he’d ever had the opportunity to excite his tongue. In which, he pretty much was. “I knew I’d get through to you eventually”, he hummed, not in a particularly malicious or teasing tone. Just a simple matter of fact tone. He was quite proud of himself in a way, how easy it had been. And it confirmed that Peter wasn’t all that mad, a good thing considering Tony was sick of this conversation.

“Come on now baby, why don’t you go wait in daddy’s car”, he said, but it wasn’t a request, more like a demand, pushing his body away from Peter’s, emitting a whine from the boy. “Now Peter”, Tony said, quite sternly, delivering a rough slap down on the boys ass, licking his lips at the way it jiggled under the soft cotton, not hiding anything from Tony’s gaze, just the way he liked it. It stretched over his ass, and once again, Tong remembered just how lucky he was to have Peter. He was so perfect, and of course, not just in his body, but in every other way. He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to Peter’s head. “Come on Pete, I’ve gotta lock up, the sooner I do, the sooner we can leave”, he said in a softer tone this time. “And if you’re good, daddy might just help you out in the car”, he growled lowly, patting his backside gently before moving to begin to turn off all the lights.

Peter’s smile grew, nodding his head eagerly. He didn’t even say anything, way too excited to get home, tattoo forgotten. He grabbed Tony’s car key, before he practically ran out the door into the car park, scurrying to Tony’s old beaten up car, and slipping into the passenger seat. His dress was up his thighs within a second, rubbing himself through his lace panties with a moan.

Tony took a last look around the shop, letting out a sigh. His gaze flicked to the window, making sure Peter got into the car safely, but frowned a bit. His precious boy getting into the rusty old steel can, was a heavy sight - he rubbed at his head with a groan. Peter deserved so much more: limousines and sports cars, his own personal driver. Tony didn’t even know how at this point he was keeping a roof over their heads. He struggled to buy Peter clothes for god’s sake. Everything he deserved, Tony couldn’t provide. And his angel of a boyfriend never once complained. But Tony knew, or at least he thought he did, Peter was probably sick of it. He came from wealth and splendour, he was used to mansions and gold, not a shitty, dirty apartment in the rough part of the neighbourhood. Tony closed his eyes, trying to diminish these thoughts. It wasn’t long until Peter turned around and told him he’d had enough, he just had to try and build a better life for them before that.

With an aching hand he grabbed the store keys, and walked out the door, beginning to lock up.

The ride home was… pleasant, to say the least. Peter’s high pitched whines and moans filling the interior of the car whilst Tony’s large fingers filled him up perfectly, the other hand lay unshaking on the wheel as if nothing was even happening.

The rest of the night passed like usual. Before they’d even made it through the door, humping each other desperately in the elevator, and Peter giving a not so subtle moan of a “heya Alfred’, to their elderly (extremely homophobic ) neighbour as Tony carried him in. Before they’d even shut the door, Tony whispered “cum for me baby”, and Peter was crying out. His ring of flesh and muscle clenching around Tony’s fingers as he came, his body trembling in his arms. Tony shut the door in just enough time to hear Alfred shouting at them about reporting them, but neither of the two were listening.

As Peter calmed himself down, with shaky legs he climbed down and was on his knees within seconds. In just two more, Tony’s briefs and jeans were around his ankles and Peter’s lips were wrapped around his cock.

It was a while before they’d lowered their sex drives just enough to actually eat some proper food and get on with their night (the main event was always saved for later). Tony looked across at Peter from their small kitchen table as he shovelled Kraft Mac and Cheese down his throat. It was far from the five star meal Tony had wanted to give to him, but he knew he wouldn’t be getting one of those at least any time soon. But Peter didn’t seem to mind, he was content with his slightly congealed dinner (because Tony didn’t add enough milk).

“I’m still not through with this Tony”, Peter said suddenly.

Tony let out a long sigh, his fork clattering to his plate as he leant back against the creaking chair and closed his eyes.

“I don’t want you to get all moody with me Tony, but you need to realise this is important to me…”

“Why do you want a tattoo so bad Peter?”, he questioned. There was a long, pregnant silence and thus, Peter’s answer never came.

“See, you’re being silly. You just want one because you see me, and you see what I do, and you’re fascinated by it”, it was from the truth, but Peter didn’t want to give up the real answer just yet. Sure one of the reasons was because it was a big part of Tony’s life, but it wasn’t the only reason. The fact that he didn’t want to reveal it was what kept him silent. “You don’t need a tattoo my love. Trust me. Your porcelain skin is perfect without having any ink to taint it.”

“But what if it’s important to me…”

“Shush Peter now please. I don’t want to have this conversation anymore”, he continued, ignoring the fact that he’d completely cut Peter off.”It’s like what Kim whatever her last name is said: You wouldn’t put a bumper stick on Harley.”

Peter’s face scrunched up before he huffed. “It was Kim Kardashian. And a Bentley Tony, It was a Bentley. Not everyone thinks a motorbike is the most precious thing in the world like you. If you’re going to try and persuade me with pop culture references at least get them right so you don’t look like a fool at the end of it”, he snapped.

“I’m sorry baby boy. But that’s it now, come on. No more talk about tattoos.”

Of course Peter was much too stubborn to actually agree. So he stayed quiet, not promising anything but giving up for tonight. He stabbed his fork into a piece of macaroni, putting it into his mouth with a small sigh. A heavy tension warmed both of them, the only sound being their forks scraping against their bowls. It was only once Tony was finished, looking over to Peter with an almost guilty but subtle expression.

Feeling the gaze on him, Peter’s soft eyes looked up at Tony and finally he smiled.He didn’t want to argue anymore tonight “So am I still getting my bath daddy?”, he asked innocently, and with a chuckle, Tony too, began to smile.

“However could I deny my baby of his desires”, yet his smile was tight, unconvinced, because it was pretty easy when he didn’t have the money to get them in the first place.

Tony’s wish for that conversation to be the last of its kind was clearly not granted. Sure, Peter had actually waited a full month this time before inquiring again, but Tony just hadn’t wanted it to be bought up at all, but of course, the boy’s persistence was much too strong for that.

Yet his persistence was fueled by the simple reason that Peter was annoyed. Tony didn’t even want to look at the design he’d chosen, and maybe if he did he’d realise why it was so important and special for Peter to get it. So this time, he didn’t give him the choice.

They were cuddling on the couch. Peter tucked snugly under his arm, a thin, scratchy blanket draped over them as both men kept their eyes to the TV. Peter didn’t even know what they were watching, but he was bored.And it wasn’t long before his interests moved someplace else. His fingertips softly crawled down Tony’s arm, his gentle touch scarcely brushing over his skin until he reached where he wanted. Tony of course had two sleeves of tattoos, one on each arm. Starting from the bottom, Peter began to trace around the tattoos gently with his fingertips. Underneath him, Tony tensed, already knowing what was coming from that one small movement.

“Your tattoos are so pretty Tony”, Peter muttered quietly, looking up at his lover with a sincere grin.

“Thank you love, you know that means a lot to me… but you’re still not getting one.”

There was a beat of silence before Peter let out a frustrated grin. “Why are you being such an ass about this”, he eventually shouted, pulling himself away from Tony and up off the couch. He grabbed his phone from the coffee table before sitting back down with a pout making sure to leave a good couple of inches away just to emphasise how annoyed he was with the man. “You didn’t even let me finish, I didn’t even get to ask this time but you’re already saying no. Just look and you’ll understand”

Peter thrust the phone under Tony’s nose, forcing him to look at the photo on the screen “MJ drew it for me after I told her what sort of thing I wanted!”

Even Tony had to admit, the idea was cute, and he did understand why Peter wanted it. It was an infinity sign, with Tony’s initials causing a break at the top right and the bottom left. Above it was a heart, and around it birds. It stemmed from Peter’s guilty obsession with the notebook. When they first met, Tony had never watched it, and on when on their midnight picnic date, Peter said he wished he too would like to be reincarnated into a bird upon his death, and Tony looked over and somehow managed to quote the lines perfectly: ‘If you’re a bird, then I’m a bird’, before leaning in to give him a soft kiss. Of course the quote was written just under the infinity sign and honestly Tony thought it was perfect. It was drawn in such a way that it didn’t seem too much for one tattoo. It was beautiful and yet it hurt his heart.

“I wanted it to be a surprise, but I had to ask you first, I was going to get Bucky to do it, but he knows how protective you are and said he wouldn’t unless he got your permission. But if I don’t then I guess I’ll just go get it done from someone he will, whether you want me too or not. My body, my choice or whatever”, it was a clear sign Peter was seething. He was actually considering going against Tony’s word. There wasn’t exactly a power imbalance in their relationship, but usually Peter did listen to Tony, and thus far, they’d managed to always settle an agreement.

Finally, Tony lifted his gaze from the screen of the phone. He turned to look at Peter shaking his head. “Peter if you do that, I will never forgive you. You’re not getting it”, he said firmly. “That shits permanent, I would know, I do it for a living.”

Tony half expected Peter to continue to argue, maybe beg, or storm off angrily. He didn’t seem upset, at least not until Tony’s last words. As soon as they left his mouth, it was like something inside of Peter had snapped. He recoiled, bringing the phone to his chest and clutching his heart like he was in great pain.His angry expression dropped, and his eyebrows furrowed. He was hurt. No, he looked more than hurt, he looked broken. And Tony wanted it to go away.

He didn’t understand what he’d done wrong. But he needed to fix it. He couldn’t have his baby that upset. Especially over him.

“Baby, whatever you think I said I didn’t mean it..”, he tried to soothe, yet Peter’s bottom lip was quivering and tears were forming in his eyes.

“Oh so you didn’t mean just to tell me our love means nothing to you”, he spoke. His voice cracked, wavering with the sudden burst of intense emotion.

“What?” Tony asked, panicking as he shook his head and reached out to touch him. But Peter was much too fast, standing before Tony could come anywhere near him. “Baby..”, Tony sighed, “Baby I didn’t say that at all”, he whispered.

“No, Tony, you did. That shits permanent huh? Yeah, you’re right, that’s exactly why I want it. Because I thought we would be too. Isn’t that what you always promise me? Me and you, forever. Then why won’t you let me get something to symbolise that. Are you gonna break up with me? Is that it?”, he was shouting now, tears streaming down his red face, all worked up from his rant.

“Peter you know that isn’t what I meant. I’m not going to break up with you. I want to be with you forever, I promise. I just don’t want you to regret it…”, he winced as soon as the words left his mouth, realising he was only making things a lot worse.

Peter let out a cry before turning on his heel and walking to the bedroom. Tony was up and after him of course but as he reached the door, a pillow was thrown to his chest and the door slammed in his face. He looked down at the Pillow and let out a small groan. Guess it was the couch tonight.

It had been a week, and Peter still wasn’t talking to Tony. The good thing - he hadn’t packed his bags and left. Tony was only hoping this was over soon because he didn’t think his back was going to survive the couch any longer. Well there was that and the fact that his baby was mad at him and he of course didn’t like that.

He’s just gotten done with a client,in the store, it had been a quiet day. With no appointments for now he’d sent Bucky on his lunch break. He sat at his chair behind the counter, letting out a deep breath to try and feel a bit more alive.

As the door opened, a small gust filled the room causing Tony to look up. He raised an eyebrow as he watched a forlorn looking Peter come trudging in. He was on his feet within an instant “Baby are you okay?”

Peter sniffled quietly, moving his hand to wipe at his eyes, and as Tony walked around the counter he noticed the tracks of tears on his pink cheeks. He opened up his arms and within seconds Peter had sunk into them, the first time in a week they’d had any sort of contact apart from minor conversations within the apartment. “Peter what’s wrong? Did someone hurt you”, he repeated, more urgently this time already plotting all the ways he could get away with murder.

“I just tried to get some groceries Tony…”, Peter said softly, causing Tony to look down at him confused, nodding his head as if coaxing him to continue. “Your card got declined…”

With those four words, Tony tensed up. His arms grew loose around Peter, despite how hard the boy struggled to hold on in an attempt to ground Tony and not have him lose his mind. But it was too late. He gently pushed Peter away, moving to sit back in his chair, his head in his hands. It was quite for a long while, too long of a while. Quiet until Peter slowly approached, taking Tony’s hands and moving them so that he could crawl into his lap, facing him.

“It’s okay Tony, we’ll figure it out. I’ll get my dad..”

“Your dad hates me. I don’t think he’ll be willing to send me money because I can’t do enough to fucking support us”, Tony spat bitterly.

Peter sighed pressing a kiss to Tony’s lips to try and calm him down. “We’ll work through it. We always have done. I’m starting at that florist around the corner next week, remember?”

Of course Tony remembered. Peter had never worked a job in his twenty one years of living. Tony knew that from the start. But Peter wasn’t a spoiled brat. He was just used to living a soft, cushy life. If he fell, there would also be pillows underneath him to break his fall. All until he met Tony.

They’d kept it a secret for a while - Peter sneaking out to see him and whatnot. But his parents were bound to find out eventually. And when they did, the ambitious and wealthy Parker’s were not happy that their only son was dating a ‘punk street rat’ as they so lovingly put it. It was either Peter broke up with him, or cut off his ties to his family. So of course Tony retaliated by gifting Peter a promise ring and the rich pretty boy’s life changed forever. His credit card was shut off, his phone bill shut off, everything Peter was used to, was gone. The only things he had left were the clothes on his back, and his actual phone. The newest at the time, but now, it was the oldest phone Peter had ever had. And it would only get older. He moved into Tony’s cramped apartment, but even now, some of the clothes he owned were still folded in his suitcase because they wouldn’t fit in Tony’s small wardrobe. He promised he’d get Peter his own, he never managed to get enough funds. In an attempt to give Peter what he was used to, he had to change a lot about the way he lived. He told Peter not to get a job - he didn’t have to help, that was Tony’s job; he paid his phone bill for him (at the expense of Tony’s own phone, which he ended up selling); he would never let the food get low like he used to, even though it meant he was spending more on it, and he’d make sure his bills were always paid on time. Before Peter, he didn’t care if he had to shower in cold water, but he never wanted his baby to take anything but a hot steamy shower; he didn’t care if he was threatened at being thrown on the streets for not paying his rent, but he would never drag Peter into something like that.

The point is, Tony never wanted anything but the best for Peter, and so he worked with what he had. But now, he’d failed. And he didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

“Baby with all due respect, I don’t think your little florist job is going to do much. I have to pay bills in two weeks, rent in three, and.. Fuck.. I was meant to give Bucky his pay tomorrow!”

Peter bit down on his lip. Tony never usually let him in on the financial side of things, he didn’t like to let Peter see how hard it was to make ends meet. So, Peter was a bit at a loss with all of these things.

“I can sell some of my clothes-”, he began, but was cut off by the glare from Tony making him go quiet instantly.

“I’m not making you do that”, Tony said, he was firm, his voice wavering with slight aggression. But Peter didn’t blame him, Tony was scared, it was so clear to see in his eyes. “Peter I need you to go back to your parents and tell them that we broke up. Just say that they were right, and..”, he began to raise his voice to speak over Peter’s sounds of indignation “I know it will hurt your dignity, but for the sake of you not having to struggle through me being incredibly broke, I need you to go back.”

“It’s not my dignity Tony-”

“Peter I’m still in debt from fucking opening this place!”

“Shut up and let me finish! It’s not my dignity I’m worried about, It’s you. You’re supposed to be the one I marry. Your struggles are my struggles whether you like it or not. I’ll live on the streets if i have to, as long as it’s with you. I can go days without eating, so if it’s food you’re worried about, we’ll buy what we can and you can eat it all. If we have to leave the apartment then MJ and Ned will help us get back on our feets. And I know Bucky and his boyfriend Steve would too. If not your friends, I know you have them Tony.”

He was off his lap at this point, pacing, the desperation rich in his tone trying to get Tony to see that he wasn’t leaving him.

“Why do you want to stay with a poor fucker like me?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU TONY”, Peter finally burst, turning around to shout at him, his chest heaving with each heavy breath. “Because I love you”, he repeated, quieter this time and softer.

“Don’t you love me?” he asked quietly. He seemed almost scared to hear the answer.

Yet he didn’t have to. Because Tony’s eyes flashed with guilt and Peter gasped, a sharp pain shooting through his chest as he fell forward against the counter no longer able to hold his body up himself.

“I knew it..”, he muttered quietly, refusing to look Tony in the eyes as his own filled with tears. “This is why you wouldn’t let me get the tattoo.”

Tony felt like the worst man in the world. Of course he loved Peter, but he couldn’t let him know that otherwise he’d stay and Tony would feel so much worse knowing he was putting Peter through hell. But at the mention of the tattoo he scoffed.

“Are you really going to bring that up at a time like this”, he snapped, standing from his chair and shaking his head.

“Well I guess it just confirms what I said all along. You don’t love me half as much as I love you, and forever was always just a lie..”, although Peter’s bitterness was evident, so was his pain. And as he turned around to leave through the door Tony knew deep down he couldn’t leave it like this.

“No Peter, that’s where you’re wrong”, Tony said his hands clenched into fists as he turned around to face the smaller male. He was met with Peter’s back, but he’d froze. His hope was always there, hope that Tony did actually love him.

“Look down at your hand and the ring on your finger. It was a cheap ring, it was all I could afford at the time, it’s pretty funny how I can afford even less now. It’s discoloured, It’s not the right size for your finger, but I tried my best”, he waited as Peter did so, “I gave you that as a promise that I would spend the rest of my life with you as long as you were happy, healthy and safe. If you continue to try and make ends meet with me, you will be none of those things.”

“You don’t know that..”

“I do Peter. Because even if I somehow manage to get out of this debt, and we go back to the way we were before, You still deserve better. I haven’t taken you on a date since those first few months, I haven’t got you gifts either. That ring was the last thing I ever got you. Do you know how disgusting that makes me as a man?”

Peter spun around at that, his expression hardened, clearly wanting to disagree, but Tony didn’t let him.

“I never wanted you to get the tattoo because I was set on changing our lives. I thought I was getting somewhere, but obviously I miscalculated. I wanted to give you the life you were used to, A tattoo would only be a reminder of where you started out with me. Poor, struggling, overall just living a pretty shitty life. I figured when i’d turned our lives around you wouldn’t want that reminder of how it used to be”, he said quietly, running his tongue over his bottom lip slowly.

“That’s the reason I also want you to go. Not because I don’t love you, but because I love you too much to see you suffer anymore.”

Peter let out a soft whimper, looking down to his feet.

“I’m not suffering Tony, no matter what you might think. I’m not. Sure, it was hard for me to adjust into a lifestyle I’m not used to. But never once in our two years of being together have I ever complained.”

“I just want to give you the best.”

“You already do Tony. We could be living in a homeless shelter and I still wouldn’t complain as long as I’m with you..”

Both of them fell silent. It seemed a long time before the room saw any movement. But eventually Tony opened his arms and Peter scurried into them. They stayed there for a while. Just with each other, trying not to think of what was going on around them, and just focusing on their love. Because they needed each other. And maybe Tony was finally starting to see that.

“Being woken up like this never gets old..”

Tony’s husky morning voice filled the room as Peter giggled and cuddled against his side. He’d just gotten done with his mandatory morning hickey attack on Tony’s neck, and of course his lover wasn’t complaining.

“I have to remind all your employees that you’re taken”, Peter whispered softly against his ear, his hand rubbing Tony’s chest appreciatively of the man’s body. “Especially that new secretary you have, Poppy was her name or something.. I don’t like her, I see the way she’s eyeballing you”, Peter pouted, causing Tony to chuckle and press a kiss to Peter’s pouty lips.

“It’s Pepper love, and I wouldn’t worry. I’m pretty sure she, and all of my employees remember the sinful sounds you were making as you decided to ride me on my desk with the door wide open to display the fact that I am actually owned”, Tony reminded, a fond smile on his face at the memory. It definitely set the tone for what kind of boss Tony was.

“Well I got my point across didn’t I? You’re loved nationally and internationally, I don’t wnat no one touching on my man” Peter huffed, causing Tony to chuckle and nod his head.

“Yes, yes baby, you definitely did.. So much so that I think we should repeat it right now”, he hummed softly, pulling Peter on top of his body causing the younger male to roll his eyes.

“You’re going to be late for work Tony. You can’t keep Stark industries waiting!!”

“I own it you silly”, was the reply, but Tony was far too concentrated on pressing kisses over Peter’s skin to really give it much thought, His tongue slipping under the waistband of Peter’s lace panties, emitting a soft moan from the boy. Sex back in their old apartment was mind blowing, but sex in their large mansion, on their silk sheets, just added a bit more to it if you asked him. Tony swore he’d tore this pair of underwear off the boy last night, but then again, Peter had so many sets of lingerie, Tony swore he was seeing new ones every day.

As Peter shuffled down between Tony’s legs to take the older male’s morning wood into his mouth he smiled up at him. Ever since Tony managed to set up Stark industries, and gave the tattoo shop to Bucky (of course giving him some starting funds too, not wanting him and Steve to have to go through what he and Peter did), Tony had been so much happier. Of course that was to be expected, he was stressed, but this was a better type of stress. No one was worrying about where the money was going, if they could pay bills next month. It had been a long road, with a hell of a lot of speed bumps and potholes, but they’d finally made it.

“Do you think we can go out to dinner later, just me and you? That nice restaurant you took me to when you proposed. I know it’s expensive, but it’s about time we had a date!”

Tony laughed softly, nodding his head. His fingertips running down Peter’s back and over his sides affectionately. They brushed over Peter’s tattoo, the one Tony ended up getting too, in the same place as Peter, on his side, as he hummed softly. “Of course baby”, he said softly, deliberately missing out the fact that they literally went on a restaurant date a couple of days ago.

“Now stop stalling, your little ass is tight and my cock isn’t going to lube itself”, he demanded, watching as Peter rolled his eyes and spat on his erect shaft, Tony running his fingers through his hair.

Because after all, who was he to deny his baby of his desires; especially now that he could, and he would, give him the world.

#starker #starker fanfiction #tony stark #peter parker #tony stark x peter parker #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #skylars asks #skylar writes

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kathyprior4200 · 4 years ago

Text

Fallen (post episode 4)

Cletus, Keenie and Collin broke down in heavy tears as they surveyed the area around them. The audience lay slumped and dead in their seats after being shot with arrows and bullets. Metal scaffolding lay bent and wrecked on the wooden stage where Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie were moments before. The former opera singer now lay dead and crushed underneath a stage light that had fallen on top of her. And underneath a broken piano lay the dead crushed body of Lyle Lipton, the elderly inventor they had tried to save.

The scene was eerie and empty. The nervous well-dressed piano guy had promptly fled the scene, traumatized after the events. And those accursed imps had jumped through a portal back to Hell in triumph.

As Cletus cried some more, fountains of tears sprung from his eyes. Keenie and Collin rushed in to comfort him. The trio had never felt so vulnerable before.

“I…I can’t believe this!” Cletus wailed. “We were so close to helping out that man…even though he was shitty and old…”

“Language,” chided Keenie.

Cletus continued. “We did everything right, but now we can’t get back through.”

“It’s not…completely your fault,” Collin said, putting a hoof on his leader’s back in comfort. “It was all an accident.”

Cletus raised an eyebrow at his comrade. “What do you mean ‘not completely?’”

“Well…” Collin began.

“You’re right, it was those imps’ doing!” Keenie interrupted, her white lacy wings flapping in frustration. “If only Deerie had seen what they were doing to us.”

The three took some deep breaths and sobs as they slowly calmed down. With a wave of his hand, their fancy dresses and tuxedos clothes were replaced by their regular outfits: reddish overalls for Cletus, a light blue shirt and white bow tie for Collin and a yellow dress for Keenie.

“What do we do now?” Collin asked, almost in a whisper.

“First thing’s first,” said Cletus. “We find a safe place to stay for a while. Who knows how long we’ll have to stay on Earth?” The others nodded in agreement.

“Urgh,” Keenie scowled. “First those filthy demonic trash decide to mock us and now we have to live among these…messy mortals?”

“Oh come on,” Collin gave a small smile as the three left the theater. They looked again sadly at the deceased humans and made crosses with their hands before flying away through an open window. “Things will work out. We’ve helped humans all the time. Surely they can’t be that bad!”

The three of them later gasped in sheer horror on the streets in a nearby town. A homeless man sat on a corner smoking a cigarette, while his comrade vomited alcohol down a sewer drain. A large man with a mustache ripped off a woman’s shirt as she leaned into him with a messy kiss in an alleyway. A skinny thief snatched a woman’s purse before he was brutally shot in the head by a man with a baseball cap. Two men were fighting each other and swearing, one of them landing a punch that toppled the other to the ground. As a policeman dragged a body away, a nearby band blared on bloodstained instruments. The logo on the drum read “Hail Satan!” in red messy paint.

A group of men sitting on a bench glanced at the cherubs hungrily.

“Anyone want mutton chops tonight?” The others laughed and displayed sinister grins.

C.H.E.R.U.B. stood with open mouths for several seconds. Cletus laughed nervously and made a motion with his arm and fist. “Let’s go check out someplace else!”

The three took to the sky, trying not to look at the watchful eyes of passerby.

Collin’s fluffy light indigo ears perked up. “Hey, I know what we can do! We can keep doing our job like before, helping people in need! Now that those imps are back in Hell, we are free to do what we like.”

Keenie shook her head. “As much as I want to, I don’t think we should just yet. I’m worried that we’ll just cause more deaths.”

“I might have to agree as well,” said Cletus. “I mean, how can we tell anyone about our accomplishments if we aren’t in Heaven anymore?”

“I miss my mom and dad,” Collin whined. “How will they react when they find out about what we’ve done?” He gasped. “What if they already know? What if all of Heaven knows and now sees us as…one of them?”

The others gasped.

“You don’t mean…” Keenie began.

Cletus rapidly shook his head. “No, no, no, no! I refuse to believe that our one mistake would lead us into becoming demons!”

“What if…it’s already too late?” Keenie wondered in fear.

Collin imagined all three of them trapped in long black demonic hands, their wings and halos gone. Flames turning their eyes red and their skin a charred black. The pale face of Lucifer towering behind them and letting out a maniacal laugh.

“Oh my gosh, oh my god!” Collin cried, his eyes wide as he shook his head free of the fear.

Keenie slapped him hard on the head. “Hey, I told you to not use the Lord’s name in vain!” Collin sobbed again and rubbed his large white wool of hair as he flew beside them.

The setting sun turned the sky a brilliant orange as the three cherubs searched for a safe place to stay the night. Their white feathery wings and halos glowed and flickered in the fading light. Their silhouettes followed the setting sun before they landed in a quieter part of town. Neon signs were already humming in the twilight. From inside nearby windows, several woman were wearing dark lace and high heeled boots, pole-dancing to upbeat music. The cherubs huddled close together, staying under streetlights to avoid the dark unknown. Their wings flapped silently as they moved forward inches off the ground.

“I miss Heaven’s comforting light,” Keenie sighed. “And God’s light most of all. It seems like this place is devoid of it.”

“There’s always good somewhere in the world,” said Collin with a hopeful expression. “You just have to know where to look.”

“The only thing I see are shabby buildings and humans indulging in their disgusting desires,” Cletus remarked. He mentioned to a nearby man who burped loudly after stuffing an entire pizza into his mouth. “The sooner we get home, the better.”

Collin took a piece of cheese he bought and popped it into his mouth. He grumbled. “The food here is prison food in comparison to what we have back home. It just tastes so…bland and heavy.”

Keenie munched half-heartedly on a carrot. “It’s still edible at least.”

“Demons eat nothing but raw meat,” Cletus added. “Back up above, we could enjoy all the vegetables, holy fruits, and drinks we wanted. Every day was an endless buffet…”

“Stop making me hungry,” Collin remarked. They fell into silence as a nightly breeze ruffled their clothing and wooly fur.

“I think we should get human disguises soon,” Collin later mentioned as they hovered over the sidewalk.

“Yeah, like those hideous costumes worked out well for those imps,” Cletus rolled his eyes. “Relax, Collin. I’m sure some of the humans will notice and treat us with the respect I…um, we deserve.”

Collin huffed. “I sure hope so.” He clapped his large front hooves together nervously as if trying to say something. As they continued hovering past some alleyways, a low growl was heard. Keenie paused, her hair stood on end.

“Guys…what was that?” Keenie asked, looking around.

“Probably just Collin’s stomach,” Cletus mentioned.

“No, I swear it wasn’t me,” he said. “Through I am very hungry.”

The growling grew louder…it seemed to be coming from behind them. The three slowly turned around and spotted a figure in the shadows. It was a large gray canine with beady black eyes…and very sharp teeth. Drool dribbled onto the ground by its paws.

The cherubs screamed and scattered away in flight. The dog barked loudly and raced after them. The cherubs zoomed up ahead, avoiding passing cars and maneuvering around figures of people. They zoomed over black trash bags as the dog barreled through them at high speed. The dog raced on all fours, snapping its jaws as it moved closer to them.

“Get back!” Keenie called, moving her yellow hooves in a frantic kick, just missing its face. The beast just grabbed at her dress with its teeth and yanked.

“Aaaahhhh! Get off, you beast!” she cried.

Cletus yelled in fury and raised his hand in the air as he flew. He then glanced upward in sheer shock.

“I can’t summon my golden crossbow!”

Collin flew nearby, muttering a prayer while shaking. He took a deep breath and speed toward the dog. He landed a punch to the dog’s eyes…and with a yelp, the dog let go of Keenie’s dress with a rip. Keenie gasped and shook herself. “My dress!” she cried as she stared at the torn slobbery hole. “Look at my dress!”

“Be thankful it’s not your backside,” Cletus mentioned. Keenie seethed at him as Collin came flying back toward them, the dog at his heels. Keenie shoved Collin backwards toward the dog, sending the both of them tumbling to the ground.

Cletus and Keenie flew as fast as they could until Keenie spotted a beacon in the distance. A tall brick building had a large white Christian Cross on top of it, appearing golden as the sun continued to set. Several stained glass windows showed images of Jesus and the Virgin Mary surrounded by golden backgrounds. Even more spectacular was a nearby towering Christmas tree decorated with gold and silver ornaments and a six pointed star at the top.

“A church!” she called. “Hurry!”

They landed in front of the large wooden double doors, catching their breath.

“My wings are sore,” Cletus groaned.

“No more flying for a while,” Keenie agreed.

Cletus knocked politely on the door. “Hello? Anybody in there?”

So far, no answer.

Just then, they heard panting from behind them. They whirled around…only to find Collin hunched over, his clothes torn up. There were several scratches all over him.

“Oh Collin, thank goodness,” Cletus sighed in relief.

“Keenie…” Collin began. “What was that back there?! I’m lucky I escaped at all!”

“I had to distract the dog so we could get away,” she said.

Collin glared and stomped one of his cloven feet. “That’s the second time you pushed me in harm’s way! And the first time was with a whole pack of wild animals!”

“You’re still fine, right?” she asked.

Collin let out a “ha!” followed by a “no.”

“Don’t ever do that again,” he said, folding his arms. The cherubs waved their hands and their clothes and skin were repaired.

Just then, the door solely opened. A woman dressed in a black robe stared into the distance. “Hello?”

“Down here,” said Cletus. She looked down with surprise in her eyes.

“May I help you?”

“Hi,” said Cletus. “We got lost from our home and now we have nowhere to go. May we stay for a bit?”

The woman peered closer at them, narrowing her eyes. “You three look familiar…”

The cherubs gulped. Seconds dragged on.

“Do I know you?”

“Um…” Cletus began, sweat trickling down his forehead.

“Of course!” she called, standing up. “You’re those guardian angels who go out and save people, yes?”

Cletus stood proudly. “Yep, that’s us!” The other two let out soft gasps and looked at Cletus in worry.

The woman looked around. “Hurry, inside now,” she said. “The world is full of people willing to take advantage of you savior children.”

The cherubs bowed in thanks before heading through the door.

“Technically, I’m twenty-four,” Cletus muttered.

“I thought we were hundreds of years old,” wondered Keenie.

Collin grinned, redness briefly spreading to his cheeks. “You’re so beautiful, you don’t look a year over two-hundred.”

Keenie “bahed” at him in annoyance before they made it into the main chamber. The high vaulted ceiling made even the cherub angels feel small. The sky was a dark indigo through the opening above. Rows of arched gaps circled the area near the ceiling, and stone pillars held the ceiling on either side. The floor was in a black and white checkered pattern while a few Greek inspired designs caught Cletus’ attention. The rows of seats were polished and clean, and several white candles were lit in holders, emitting a peaceful glow.

The woman made way for them and came back with a bowl of fruit and grass. Collin munched on blueberries, Keenie on pineapple slices and Cletus started on red apples. Cletus stared into the apple’s red surface. “Just like the Garden of Eden,” he said to himself. “When Eve ate from the Tree of Knowledge, she had disobeyed God’s order. She gave the fruit to Adam who then ate one. God banished them from the Garden, cursed them to grow old and die…thus began the fall of man…”

Cletus stared closely at the apple’s surface, the red morphing into the face of a red goat. A grin of sharp white teeth, red eyes surrounded by black, a glowing black Ring with a Roman numeral five on it…

“Are you okay?” Collin asked.

Cletus whipped his head to Collin. “Oh yes, I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, forcing a grin.

Cletus turned and set the apple aside.

“I sure hope we don’t age too,” Keenie added in concern. “I don’t want to lose my pretty face and looks.”

“That inventor managed to survive for a while,” Collin said.

“Barely,” Cletus mentioned.

“We’re still angels,” mentioned Collin. “It is very rare for us to be erased from existence without good reason…”

“Please don’t say such things!” mumbled Keenie.

The woman went up to the ornate alter and poured in some herbs into an incense burner. The smell of frankincense and myrrh calmed the cherubs down after a while.

“I’ll leave you to it,” said the woman. “Stay for as long as you need but stay out of sight more often than naught. If you need anything, just let me know. Be careful dear sheep babies.”

“Bless you miss,” said Cletus.

The cherubs bowed in thanks as she left.

“Sheep babies?” Cletus scowled. “I’m not a freaking baby!”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Collin.

Keenie walked up to a stone basin nearby as Collin and Cletus bickered for a bit. Gazing in a small pool of holy water, Keenie thought she saw a ghostly face of a pale woman with long blonde hair, a black crown and large curved horns. The face briefly shifted to another white face with orange eyes and flaming wild auburn colored hair. She blinked a few times and it was gone. She only saw her wide-eyed reflection faintly on the surface. She turned away and arrived beside her comrades.

The altar before them was made of gold, as was the ornate cross situated on top.

Keenie, Collin and Cletus knelt down in prayer, tears falling from their faces.

“Oh mighty Lord, please have mercy on us,” Cletus said. “Please forgive us for the mistakes we made here on Earth.”

“Father…we only tried to help a broken man get onto the right path,” Keenie said. “We didn’t mean to kill him.”

“We just want to go home,” Collin added. “We’ll take whatever punishment you give us but please…tell us if there is anything we can do…”

More moments passed as night fell. Stars and a moon were visible through the glass windows.

“God help the outcasts,” Collin chanted softly. “God help our cherub people. We look to you still. If you can’t help us, nobody will.”

“I ask for glory. I ask for fame. I ask for redemption to shine on our name,” added Cletus.

Keenie continued the chant. “We ask for your guidance, a way to get by. Help us right our fate, listen to our cry.”

Cletus finished, “Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost, please watch over us.”

All three said “Amen!” before a colorful portal of clouds opened above them. The cherubs each looked up.

“Lord Gabriel?” asked Cletus. “Is that you?”

A sound of clapping hooves greeted them, followed by a haughty laugh.

“My my, what a marvelous…pitiful performance!”

The brown furry face of a winged deer cherub came into view. A sense of smugness and superiority was clearly reflected in her eyes.

“Deerie?!” the cherubs cried, their faces morphing into angry scowls.

“Wow, I’d expect a more proper welcome from deferential devotees such as yourselves. The human world getting to you so soon?”

“What are you doing here?” Keenie asked. “We called for Gabriel.”

“Gabriel sends you his best regards, and says that you guys can rise again and be fully redeemed after a while…”

The cherubs smiled until she added, “heheh, yeah, no.”

Their faces fell.

“I’m afraid you guys can’t re-enter Heaven, like I said before. Nothing you can do about it. Rules and all.”

Cletus turned red in the face. “But it was an accident! The imps fought us off. They were the ones trying to kill Lyle Lipton!”

“But they didn’t, correct? Based on what Heaven has seen, you three not only killed Lyle unintentionally…but you caused much more death and suffering.”

“What?!” all three cried out.

Collin thought back to all the dead audience members. They had been so involved in fighting off their rivals that they didn’t even notice them.

“It was I.M.P.’s fault!” Keenie argued.

“Yes, but you also played a role in it,” Deerie explained. “You blindly shot your arrow, which later caused the piano to crush the old man. We see everything, you know.”

Cletus then turned to Collin. “About that time earlier when you said it ‘wasn’t completely my fault…’”

Collin stood his ground. “It was though. It was all our faults.” He jabbed a hoof into Cletus. “But you were so adamant to kill off those imps that you didn’t consider who else would be at risk. We should’ve taken the fight outside! I tried to tell you guys earlier!”

“You’re a literal sheep,” Cletus replied, getting into Collin’s face. “You never said a word; you just followed my orders like you were supposed to.”

“Those imps are nothing more than dirt that the dead tread on,” Keenie added. “We may be angels, but we never go down without a fight. Surely you’d do well with being less of a wimp, Collin.”

Collin scoffed. “I’m sorry. I thought we were supposed to be the good guys. The loving guardians who actually help those we meet. I just realized that we didn’t let Lyle Lipton learn his little lesson.”

“Five times fast,” Cletus snickered, but Collin ignored him.

“We didn’t tell Lyle how sinful it is to be so immersed in his own greed. He really could’ve used his riches for good if we had stayed to help him like we were supposed to! We should’ve explained to our victims why any of their bad behaviors were wrong. But instead we just left them all behind!”

“What did you think we were trying to do?!” Keenie yelled. “We showed him nature, childhood wonderment, young love and the arts. And it would’ve worked if it weren’t for those meddlesome…”

“You done?” Deerie casually asked in the air. She finished filing her hooves and had a bag of popcorn with her. The cherubs turned back to her.

“Far from it, bitch!” Keenie yelled.

“Language!” Collin warned.

“You three have learned nothing, huh? You see scraps, I was briefly summoned here by you guys and I gotta get back soon, so I may as well elaborate on your consequences. Let’s see…”

Deerie summoned her clipboard and her reading glasses. On her notepad, she had drawn cats and Invader Zim characters. A side note read “more musical episodes?”

“Not only did you kill one human, but you also killed multiple mortals in the theater. This has made Azrael, the Angel of Death very upset. There are many people that are chosen to die at certain times and let me tell you, having to cross and uncross multiple names can get pretty irksome.”

The cherubs stood silent.

“In other words, you’re also in trouble for simply…oh I don’t know…doing a business and going to Earth without the permission from your superiors! A big no-no.”

“But we were saving people’s lives, and teaching them God’s true path…” Cletus began.

“…or more than likely, saving humans just to boost about your company accomplishments.”

“I knew it!” Collin called, glaring at Cletus. “Our main purpose is to help humans because it’s the right thing to do. I knew I should have stayed at my record-keeping job.”

“You and Keenie thought joining C.H.E.R.U.B. with me was a good idea and it was!” Cletus protested.

“Cherubs are supposed to do various record keeping for soul count, religions, sins and choices made by humans etc.,”Deerie said. “Just proves that I do my job better than you three after all!”

Keenie smirked. “You sure you’re still not jealous because we got to go on exciting adventures? That we became more famous than you?”

Deerie chuckled. “More like infamous now. Cletus especially, you gave into your pride and wrath during the fight. You cherubs are supposed to help spread the holy word of God, and not go into the human world unless necessary.”

The cherubs lowered their heads a bit.

“Not to mention several people you saved ended up as criminals. You know, the kind of people who abuse their children, scam others into giving them money, enslaving citizens in other countries…”

“How were we supposed to know all of that?!” Keenie cried. “We saved their lives at the request of their loved ones in Heaven!”

“Which, in turn can cause more global suffering and even an altering of history itself,” Deerie explained. “Lyle was destined to die and go to Hell anyway. Your actions are not befitting to your titles as cherubs in the first place. I’m surprised no one has managed to sell you on the black market yet. I guess you can be referred to as…black sheep now!”

Deerie burst into laughter, slapping her furry knees.

“Get out,” Cletus muttered.

Deerie laughed some more, wiping tears from her large eyes. “Oh dearie me, I’m so clever!”

Cletus thought he saw a grinning man’s face with red eyes and licking his lips behind Deerie.

Cletus shook the vision away before yelling, “No I’m serious, get the fuck out!”

“Language!” the other three shouted, their voices echoing in the vast space. The silence was deafening. Or the noises were hearing.

“Well then, I wish you three a fun time on Earth,” Deerie said. “Feel free to not call me again. I have no use dealing with fallen sheep anyway.”

“Can you at least tell us what will happen to us next?” Collin asked.

“Oh that’s actually pretty simple,” Deerie explained. “I.M.P. will be dealt with in due time. But as for you three…”

She pointed her hooves at Collin, Cletus and Keenie, who each gasped in turn. “In Gabriel’s words: ‘You will still redeem and protect human souls but this time under closer supervision. You will learn to live among them for a while in the hopes that your arrogance toward those different from yourselves will subside over time. Only after your true redemption may you return to Heaven. I have the utmost faith in you.’ End quote.”

The three cherubs sighed in relief.

“Oh one last thing,” Deerie grinned. “I forgot to tell you the best part.” Collin and the others did not like the look on her face.

Deerie continued. “Now that you’re here on Earth, you will all be vulnerable to human emotions and sins. Pride, greed, lust, anger, you know it.”

“Not gonna happen lady,” Keenie spat with her hands on her hips.

“Everyone save for God has flaws. You didn’t think that redeeming yourselves would be a stroll in the clouds did you?”

The cherubs looked at each other.

“Yeah, so basically you all have a limited time to prove yourselves on Earth. A couple days at the very least?”

Collin whimpered with droopy ears as his white halo above him briefly flickered.

“Yeah, so if you don’t complete your mission in time…it’s a one-way trip down for you!”

The cherubs yelled while grabbing onto each other.

“Yes indeed!” Deerie said. “I can see you three reluctantly joining up with I.M.P.’s rivals to enact your revenge, turning into the winged devils you were destined to become!”

“Nooooooo!” they cried in horror.

Deerie then let out a childish laugh, waving her hoof. “But hey, that’s just a theory! I look forward to hearing about your…pandemonium adventures in the next few episodes!”

Deerie waved and called, “That’s a wrap! Bye!”

Cletus charged at her again, but she vanished through the portal and it closed.

“No, no, no!” Cletus sobbed again, his co-workers comforting him.

After several minutes, the cherubs stared at the stars and moon through one long window.

“You know guys,” Collin admitted, “Though you might be a pain in my behind at times, you’re still like my family. Whether we’re in Heaven, Earth or Hell…we can get through anything as long as we stick together.”

Keenie gave Collin a comforting side hug. Cletus soon joined in and he sighed. “That’s one thing we can all agree on.”

After staring at the heavens, Cletus said, “We’d better rest up…we have lots of work to do.”

The three cherubs huddled together underneath another Christmas tree, sleeping on a comfortable red rug.

Though the mighty had fallen, they could only hope that the meek could rise.

#helluvaboss #cherub

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all-hail-the-witcher · 5 years ago

Text

loving too hard

so at the last minute i put this in the spies verse although it can 110% be read as a standalone. im not sure when it takes place so dont ask.

by popular demand here's the playlist of songs i was inspired by:

la devotee thin white lies lose you too dying in la 8 letters the reason who knew this is gospel

______

genre: sad

ship: platonic ralbert

words: some

editing: nah

warnings: its sad, one brief mention of a shootout and weapons, use of the word love, feelings of regret, emotions, albert is stuck in his head and he made a bad decision, race just wants his hot pockets, he was at walgreens

_____

What the hell are you doing here?

Albert stared down at his hands, the light from the setting sun bathing them in gold, accentuating the purplish bruises scattered across his knuckles. Half moons of dried red framed his nails and dirt streaked his forearms. The gentle breeze stung his cuts. But no part of him was compelled to clean off the remnants of the work day. He’d fought willingly, hell it was his job after all, but suddenly it seemed so strange and weird and...wrong. Normally the last day of a case was thrilling and crisp with satisfaction, but all he could bring himself to feel was hollow regret.

It couldn’t be his job. Albert had known exactly what he was signing up for: long nights of research, stakeouts, codenames, fake identities, tailing criminals, not being seen, broken bones, scars, fights, shootouts, outrunning the inescapability of death time after time again...the endless prospects gave him goosebumps. He was a danger seeker. If he were told to take down a criminal with his eyes closed and hands tied behind his back he’d say well bring it the fuck on already!

And yet here he was, contemplating going back inside and opening his laptop to type a very half assed resignation letter. Why?

The view from the cheap hotel room was nothing special (the parking lot of a run-down strip mall mostly populated by a flock of crows) but he found himself leaning forward against the rickety hotel balcony railing to get a better look. Part of him knew that there was a very real chance it could snap and he would plummet 3 stories, but he found himself not caring. He’d fallen from higher places before. If anything, Race would yell at him for being stupid and reckless.

Race. Where was that bastard anyway? He’d left 45 minutes ago to go get first aid supplies or something, Albert hadn’t really been listening. Still, he was pretty sure that it didn’t take 45 minutes to run into Walgreens and grab some rubbing alcohol and gauze. He should have been back by now and Albert couldn’t bring himself to care.

Race was the whole reason he had this job. Why he had left home. Why he had seen so much of the world. Why he knew how to carry on half decent small talk in Russain (thanks Duolingo). Why he was one of the best field agents in the country. Why he could order meat-lovers pizza in 15 languages and counting. Why he had become such a better person than he had been in high school. But then again, Race was also the reason he had nightmares. Why he had nearly died countless times. Why he felt as though he was stuck in a life he wasn’t sure he would pick for himself if he had had the option.

Everything he had done had been for Race. Every bullet he’d taken, every scar he’d gotten, every panic attack he’d had, every time he’d hid his doubts and his fears about the mission...that had all been for Race. To protect him, to make sure he was happy.

Not like that plan had worked anyway. He knew that every time he so much as scraped himself Race panicked. And then they would ignore it until it became too much and Race would end up revealing just how much it hurt him that Albert was doing stupid shit behind his back and why can’t you just think about how this will affect me for once!?

But Race always came back, always tried to mend the rift. He made sure Albert was comfortable and he wasn’t pushing any boundaries. And what did Albert do in return? Kept fuckin hurting him. Race didn’t deserve that. Hell, no one did, but certainly not Race.

Race was too good for him. He had always been too good for him. Albert didn’t deserve a friend as good as Race, he never had and he never would.

The light’s clicked on in the parking lot below. It was no surprise that the lights, much like the strip mall, were shitty and flickering. Still, he was able to make out one lone figure holding two Walgreen’s bags. Only Race would be able to justify spending an hour in a Walgreens. Even from the balcony Albert could tell that Race’s hair was still coated in a thick layer of dirt and that he hadn’t bothered to change out of his mission clothes yet. Seeing him walking calmly back lifted a weight in his chest.

Are you sure you wanna leave this?

Albert turned swiftly, wrestling with the near-broken door for a moment before bursting back into the hotel room. Blindly he grabbed his backpack and threw random clothes and weapons in. Race was safe. He didn’t need to be here anymore now that he knew that Race was safe. Race was smart, he’d be fine, he didn’t need Albert.

He was in the middle of scribbling Race a half assed note when the door opened, bringing Race in with it. Shit.

“Hey Albie, sorry it took so long, I decided to get us food also but then couldn’t decide what to get and also Walgreens doesn’t have the best food options so I got hot pockets and chips and salsa, which, now that I’m saying that I realize that those are essentially the same thing, I hope that’s okay…” He finally looked up, noticing Albert. “Are you going somewhere? Is everything okay?”

“I’m so sorry Antonio.” Albert kept his voice low, knowing it would break if he spoke too loudly. “I can’t do this.”

Race dropped his bags on the bed and stepped closer to Albert, reaching out to grab his arm. “Do what?”

Albert flinched, stomach tightening as he stepped back to avoid Race’s touch. He felt guilty, but he couldn't do this, he couldn’t do this, fuck why couldn't he- “This,” he waved his hands as if in explanation.

“What Albie?” Race asked gently. “Stay in the hotel? The mission-”

“Us!” Albert blurted out. “I can’t do us.”

“What?” Race’s voice was small and broken as he stepped back, eyes suddenly glassy. Instant regret swelled up in Albert’s throat, but he forced it down. He couldn’t keep doing this anymore. It wasn’t right of him.

“I’m sorry. You’re too good for me Tonio. You’re too good for me and all I do is hurt you. I can’t be friends with you knowing that. I loved you too hard. I need time.” He picked up his backpack, unable to look Race in the eyes. Once his back was turned he tried to wipe at his own tears subtly, but winced when he remembered that he had too black eyes.

“Will you be back?” “I don’t know.” Albert picked up the note he had been writing and held it out to Race.

Race took the letter gently, looking at Albert thoughtfully. “I love you Albert,” he whispered finally. “You can always come back.”

Albert reached for the doorknob. “I-” his tongue stuck in his throat like sandpaper. He couldn’t say it. “Thanks,” he mumbled instead before stepping out into the hallway.

What did you just do?

_____

feedback is always appreciated hmu to be on the taglist

tag list

@fairly-awkward-trashcan

@sun-kissed-star

@racetrackcook

@ughwaitwhat

@aw-jus-let-em-try

@voice-foundshoe-lost

@stopthe-presses

@pinecovewoods

@i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing

@getchapapes

@be-more-chill-evan-hansen

@stellar-alpaca

@saxoph-ella

@smolcanadiankid

@disney-princess-sized

@the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog

@spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn

@have-we-got-news-for-you

@thatfancyclam

@legoflambwrites

@albertdasillvaprotectionsquad

@entschuldigung-bitches

@thebroadwayaesthetic

@tea-and-theater

@seasickdolphin

@auspicioustarantula

@newsies-of-ny

@papesdontsellthemselves

@deathcast-s

@the-poodles-of-pulitzer

@hopefully-not-the-ghostbusters

@humanracoon

@irondad-spiderson-duo

@albert-eats-cookie-cake

@nico-nat

@localfakeitalian

@carryyourownbanner

@writing-makes-me-antsy

@racetrackyeetgins

@panpervinca

#saphie scribbles #albert dasilva #newsies #newsies fic #spy boys #sorry for the sad boi fic #yoink

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blancheludis · 5 years ago

Link

A/N: @iron-man-bingo, square: Only One Bed

Fandom: Marvel, Avengers Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers Words: 3.525 Tags: 2012 Avengers, Miscommunication, Only One Bed, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Summary: On a secret mission for Fury, Tony and Steve get stranded in a small town during a snowstorm. There is a motel with a free room - only that it has just one bed. While Tony already has fantasies about cuddling with Captain America, Steve takes offense to the idea of sharing a bed with Tony.

---

The stairs up to the second floor of the motel are steep enough to offer Tony a nice view of Steve’s backside as they trudge slowly upwards. They are both exhausted, but Tony feels his spirits rising at the sight. No one could say he is not a man easily entertained. It helps that Steve’s trousers are wet at strategically good places to set off his assets even better.

The snowstorm has not exactly hit unexpectedly but became much stronger than anticipated very quickly. Even that would not have been a problem had they been travelling with one of Tony’s cars. They would not have given out in the middle of nowhere like the shitty rental car Fury ordered them to take.

With no phone reception and no tools, they had no other choice but to make the slow trek back to the last village they passed while the sun was rapidly going down. There is a motel, at least, run-down and nothing Tony would have ever set foot in under better circumstances. Now, he is glad they do not have to hope for some random person’s sense of charity or sleep outside.

The next time Fury asks Tony to go on a reconnaissance and stealth mission, he is not just going to laugh into their not-quite-boss’ one-eyed-face, but run as fast as he can. This has been an utter disaster from the very beginning.

He is Tony Stark, he does not do stealth, even when he is not flying around in a red-and-gold metal suit. At the very most, he pays other people to be subtle, and he usually does not even bother with that. It is often a good intimidation tactic to let people know he is coming, both in business and his superhero hobby.

Yet, here he is, sent by Fury to scope out some facility in the middle of nowhere with Steve at his side, ordered unmistakeably to no attract attention. SHIELD suspects a HYDRA base out here and the bastards are slippery enough to run at the first sign of trouble.

Quietly, Tony thinks that if they are stupid enough to not recognize Captain America, even in flannel shirts, a winter parka, and a woollen hat, and Tony Stark, seriously, his face is everywhere, they do not deserve the title of the bad guys at all. Not that Tony is particularly interested in being found out. This was supposed to be a quick in-and-out-again mission.

Then the storm hit. And the car broke down. And now they have to sleep in a mouldy motel in a random village instead of the four-star hotel he reserved rooms for at their destination and had thoroughly checked by some of his employees for its suitability.

Now that he thinks about it, the sight of Steve’s ass makes up for a lot but not nearly enough to dissipate his increasingly bad mood.

When they reach the top of the stairs, Steve turns down the dim hallway, leaving a trail of muddied snow behind. That, Tony thinks, is the clearest indicator that Steve is tired too. Normally, he would have insisted on taking off the shoes at the door downstairs to not make more work for the cleaning staff. This night, he might have still smiled and thanked the clerk for letting them in this late, but has then turned around abruptly, key clutched in his hand.

Their room is at the very end of the hall, and Tony is careful not to audibly sigh when they reach it. They have been driving for hours on end and then walked for another one. He is ready to fall into bed and never think about snow again.

Only that, when he wants to follow Steve into the room, he runs into a solid wall of tense muscles and a certain vibranium shield hidden in a backpack.

“What the –” Tony mutters before he realizes that Steve has stopped walking, right inside the door.

More as an experiment, Tony pushes lightly. His shoulder is smarting from where he hit it against the shield – although he guesses he should be glad it was not his nose.

“This is not happening,” Steve says, clipped and one wrong word away from snapping.

The dire tone has Tony expecting the worst, giant cockroaches or fungi-covered walls. When he nudges Steve to the side to enter the small room himself, he finds a dump – dark and narrow and slightly musty smelling – but not nearly as bad a dump as he has been expecting.

Sure, the wallpaper is a garish brown and white mix with something like swirling flowers on it, and the upholstery of the lone armchair looks like they might get some nasty disease just from stepping too close to it. At the first glance, it is clean, though, and they will not spend much time here anyway. They have to get going again early in the morning.

He glimpses up at Steve, registers the way he clenches his jaw and glares as if the intensity of his stare alone can change the room in front of them.

“It’s not that bad,” Tony offers. Distantly, he wonders how he has just now ended up being the voice of common sense. He feels like he should be the one complaining. This room is smaller than his very first dorm, smaller than his walk-in closet at home.

Steve turns to look at him, his glare getting harder. “There’s only one bed.”

That is true, but it is a fairly large bed. Even considering Steve’s size, they will have no problems fitting in it once they get rid of the horrible frilly pillows. It might get a bit cramped, but Tony can live with that. Whoever would say no to cuddling with Captain America?

“So?” Tony asks, drawing out the word as he tries to make sense of Steve’s sudden snobbishness. Surely, Steve has shared his sleeping space before, at the very least during his time in the army.

“You’re a millionaire,” Steve replies shortly, poking a finger at Tony’s chest, “which you never let us forget, so fix this.”

Still not quite catching up with what Steve is trying to tell him, Tony absentmindedly corrects, “Billionaire.”

Steve huffs. “Even better.” Turning back to the room, he makes a complicated gesture. “Do something.”

Tony is not sure what he is supposed to do. They are stuck here for the night and this is the only motel for miles around. Even with his billions in the bank, Tony has not much money on him – and no idea what he is supposed to do with it. Pay some poor family to let them into their house? Two strangers, both of which have an attitude and attract problems? He does not think so.

“It’s just for one night,” Tony says and makes a show of going farther into the room. There is not exactly much place to get away from Steve, but he steps up to the desk and lets his bag slide from his shoulder. Thanks to the Iron Man suitcase he has taken with him for emergencies, it is rather heavy.

Steve’s glare does not lessen a bit. “And I’m not going to spend it with you in one bed.”

With a start, Tony realizes what Steve’s problem is. It is not the room, not the smallness of the bed, but the fact that he has to share the place with Tony. He almost laughs at himself when he feels the sharp stabbing pain in his chest. This is nothing new. In some way or other, Tony is always the problem.

All geniality drains out of Tony’s demeanour. He, too, is tired and wants this stupid mission to be over.

“You’re very welcome to go back out into the fucking snow storm and find somewhere else,” Tony snaps, searching Steve’s face for some regret for what he said. When he does not find any, his voice becomes sharper, poised to cut. “Perhaps you can build yourself an igloo and cuddle with some hobo for warmth. I’m sure that’ll be better than having to suffer my presence for a whole night.”

He whirls around abruptly, not wanting to look at Steve for a moment longer. With shaking fingers, which he blames on the lingering coldness, he rips his bag open, searching for something dry to wear.

“It’s not that –” Steve says in his back, but Tony has heard enough.

“Stop lying, Rogers,” Tony sneers, “it doesn’t become you.”

Silence falls but Tony does not take any satisfaction from it. He has not wanted to argue with Steve. Things have been so good between them lately. Getting some alone time with Steve was actually one of the reasons he agreed to Fury’s mad scheme at all. A couple days on the road without any battle or training plans they need to argue over sounded nice. Right up until now. He did not think their truce would be broken over such a stupid thing.

A quiet sigh of moving air is the only warning Tony has before Steve appears at his side.

“It’s just that we have to be fit tomorrow and that won’t happen if we keep each other awake,” Steve explains in that patient but not quite reasonable tone of his that usually succeeds very quickly in driving Tony up the wall.

“Keep each other awake how?” he barks, full of disbelief that Steve is actually trying to rationalize his reaction away. He turns towards Steve and steps closer until there is barely any space between them left. “Is the mere thought of sharing space with a man too much? Are you afraid I’m going to molest you in the middle of the night?”

“No, but –” Steve swallows and takes a step back, enough to cross his arms in front of him. That, truly, is answer enough.

“Or is it just that it’s me you don’t want to spend any time with?” Tony chuckles, entirely without humour. He barely catches himself from stepping towards Steve again, but his tone is getting harsher anyway. “I’m sorry that Fury thought it wise to send the two of us to scope out that base. I’m sorry that we got snowed in in a place where the only motel has only one room with only one bed. I’m sorry that –”

“I have nightmares.”

Steve looks embarrassed, which registers with Tony long before the actual words do. It stops Tony’s tirade from spiralling further, leaving them to stare at each other. Or Tony stares while Steve looks somewhere at the wallpaper, doing his best to pretend he has not just admitted some very vital information.

“You have what?” Tony asks for clarification, even though they are both aware that he has understood Steve the first time.

The grip of Steve’s arms around himself tightens. Still not looking at Tony, he explains, “I don’t sleep well because of them and I don’t want to keep you up with it. You already drove most of the way. You must be exhausted.”

That, suddenly, has all remaining anger drain right out of Tony. Nightmares, it echoes in his mind. In a twisted sort of way, that makes sense. Steve is not the type to complain about inconveniences but rather suffers everything fate throws at him stoically. If sharing the bed with Tony was the main problem, he would have declared some ground rules and went to sleep with that stiff façade of his, keeping his face turned away from Tony and likely not sleeping a single minute just so he would not accidentally invade Tony’s side of the bed. He would not have drawn attention to his displeasure with such vehemence.

Coming to a decision, Tony abandons his bag and goes to push Steve towards the bed. Steve is kind enough – or tired enough – to let himself be manhandled, and soon they sit next to each other on the too hard mattress. Tony breathes slowly, in and out, trying to make sense of the chaos inside his head. He is not exactly surprised that he does not know about this, but he feels like he should have, since they are both part of the same team, and friends too.

“Why are you having nightmares?” Tony asks, then shakes his head at himself. “Wait, stupid question. Have you talked to someone about that?”

That should have been SHIELD’s first action after defrosting their newly found supersoldier instead of that farce of pretending it is still the forties. Shellshock had been something to keep quiet about back then, but PTSD is now slowly recognized for its importance. Every soldier coming home from war should get the chance to get help if it is needed. Especially one who might not know to look for help on his own and who has the added trauma of being all alone in the world – a world he does not know because it is not the one he almost died for.

Predictably, Steve gets up again and stalks back to the door. It is still open, showing the dark hallway. He does not step out, but he might as well have, considering how distant his answer is. “It’s no big deal.”

Tony rolls his eyes and makes no effort to hide it. Sometimes, people need to know when they are being stupid. “It apparently is if you think I’m not going to get any sleep if we share a room.”

“A bed,” Steve corrects tartly. Whatever fire has been in him for this short moment disappears just as quickly again. He shrugs, clearly uncomfortable. “I’m not exactly loud, I think. But I lash out if startled.”

Steve is talking to a man who instinctively calls out for a fully weaponized metal suit even when still half-asleep to defend himself from imagined enemies. Supersoldier or not, Steve cannot pack more of a punch than the Iron Man armour.

“That’s no real difference to when you’re awake,” Tony quips, feeling the stress of needing to handle this correctly get the better of him. “Right, no time for jokes,” he mutters, then adds, louder, “I mean, Steve, this is big. It’s no shame to get help these days.”

And Steve, a true child of the olden age and stubborn to boot, shakes his head. “I don’t need to bother anyone with this.”

Just barely, Tony holds in a frustrated groan. He is not the right person to talk to about this. He, after all, has refused to go to a therapist, no matter that both Pepper and Rhodey threatened him with all they got. It is good for other people, though. For people with problems that are not of their own making. Steve, contrary to Tony, is a victim.

“You wouldn’t be a bother. It would clearly be a good idea to go to a professional, but all of us would be willing to listen,” Tony says firmly. A bit quieter, he adds, “All of us know a bit about nightmares.”

Steve looks up at him in surprise, which in turn confuses Tony. Not a single one of them can boast to be a well-adjusted individual, and it shows.

Still, Steve asks, “You – you have them too?”

Unable to remain sitting, Tony gets to his feet. He wants to deflect like he always does when this topic comes up, but that would immediately negate all the effort of getting Steve to listen in the first place.

“Did you miss the fact that I’ve been held in a cave by terrorists for three months?” Tony asks, keeping his voice open but hopes that his tone discourages further questions. “And Loki’s invasion was rather nightmarish too.” He opens and closes his mouth several times, wondering what more he could say without giving too much away. A glance at Steve’s face tells him that he might not have to. “Put your bag down,” he then says softly, “take a shower.”

Where Steve’s expression has just been open, it closes off now quickly. “But I –”

“I heard you concerns,” Tony cuts him off. “Consider me warned. But we’re not getting another room tonight.”

Time drags as they look at each other, neither willing to back down. Tony is feverishly trying to think of other things to say, because the only other thing they could do is for him to take the suit and fly out of the storm, which would defy the very definition of an undercover mission. Even in the storm, someone is bound to notice Iron Man.

Finally, Steve’s shoulders sag. Before Tony can celebrate his victory, though, Steve says, “I’ll sleep on the ground then.”

“Like hell you will.” Tony throws his arms up in frustration. They always take at least one step back for every step they take forward. He is not going to let Steve sleep on the floor after the day they had, after any day. “You’re not going to rob me of my chance to tell my grandchildren that I once slept with Captain America. I hope you’re still considered cool then.”

Tony is convinced this will not work. There is no good reason it should. Steve is afraid of his nightmares, and Tony making tasteless jokes will not make any of that better. Steve stares at the ground between them before looking back up at Tony. Finally, with a last desperate glance at the bed, Steve nods. It is a hesitant thing, as easy to take back as it is given, but Steve is not one to break his word thoughtlessly.

“I’ll even take the side facing the door,” Tony says quickly, desperate to use this door of opportunity before it closes again. “So I can flee more quickly if I get scared.”

“Stop joking,” Steve chides but Tony is sure that his lips twitch the slightest bit, before he turns serious again. “At the first sign of a nightmare, you get out of the bed and wake me with some distance between us.”

The rather inappropriate picture of Tony poking Steve with the curtain pole while shielding himself with the bathroom door pops up in his head. With some effort, Tony keeps his lips from smiling.

“I don’t –” he protests out of habit, but does not come any farther.

“Your word, Tony,” Steve says firmly, brooking no further argument. “Or I will go and build that igloo instead.”

This time, Tony cannot help but laugh. He raises his hands in defeat. “All right, you win.” An idea strikes his mind and he gets his phone out of his picket. “I’ll have JARVIS monitor your sleep patterns, even if I don’t think you will be a danger to me. He’ll wake us up if there is something to worry about.”

He should have thought of that sooner. At home, JARVIS wakes him at the slightest sign of distress, which was the only way he even allowed himself to go to bed during the worst times, after Afghanistan or Obie ripping the arc reactor out of his chest or his little trip through Loki’s portal.

Steve looks hesitant, eyeing the phone in Tony’s hand with trepidation. It must still be strange to trust a piece of technology, not knowing how it works. In the end, he just shrugs, apparently trusting that Tony knows what he is doing.

A strange feeling wells up inside Tony’s stomach at that that he is not sure he wants to analyse. Instead, he does what he can do best and deflects with another joke.

“But, I warn you, don’t strangle me on purpose if I start cuddling you,” Tony says, not mentioning that this is a real possibility. “Pepper says I’m a cuddler.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

When Steve still looks uncertain despite having agreed already, Tony walks over to him, slowly but with intent. He thinks it is a good sign that Steve does not evade him. Reaching up, Tony pulls the strap of Steve’s bag over his shoulder and sets it down next to his own.

“Shower,” Tony orders gently and pushes Steve in the direction of the bathroom. “And then you can warm up the bed for us, I don’t know how you can still be so hot with all the snow outside.”

With a sigh, Steve searches his bag for his bedclothes and his toilet bag. Right before he vanishes into the bathroom, he says, “Don’t you dare take the side facing the window. If you’re asleep when I come back, I’ll push you out.”

Unable to help himself, Tony laughs. Most of that is due to relief at having averted what might have easily turned into a crisis. When he tells that story to his grandchildren, he will certainly edit out the parts where he had to convince Captain America with all his might that sharing the bed would not end in one Tony Stark-shaped corpse. A little subterfuge will make this far more interesting. Until then, though, he will do his best to enjoy their night together after all.

Maybe he will call ahead to their next hotel to make sure they only have rooms with one bed available too.

#iron man bingo 3000 #marvel #stony #only one bed #fanfiction #ao3 #miscommunication #2012 avengers #they actually talk like adults #can you believe it #fluff #hurt/comfort

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ftgage · 5 years ago

Text

*stumbles into the room w shades on & a margarita in one hand* beezus again...fair warning i just got back from chili’s & i’m tipsy cause my roommate spent like $100 on alcohol for me...a fcking king !

「 herman tommerass. cis male. 」have you seen gage rowland around yet? i hear he decided to be in AUDAX for their SOPHOMORE year as a CRIMINAL JUSTICE major. the 21 year old SHEEP is known to be kindhearted, resourceful, dull witted and irresponsible. ➨ the muse is written by beezus. she is 21+, in est.

(this intro might be a mess but gage is an old muse of mine so i know him like the back of my hand i swear....& i haven’t fixed my theme yet so forgive me eep i’ll do that when i’m sober later)

trigger warning mentions of neglect, alcoholism, drugs, violence, homophobia

stats:

full name: gage michael rowland

nicknames: none (someone give him one)

date of birth: march 16th, 1999

age: 21

sexuality: homosexual

religion: agnostic

occupation: student/escort

likes: black eyeliner, socks w slides

dislikes: watching movies

tattoos: none

piercings: ears, nose, cartilage

backstory:

gage was born & raised in new york by a single mother. they didn’t really stay in one place they kinda lived everywhere in the area. hopping from home to home for a majority of his life. his mother has never had a stable career. she can go from being a waitress to a babysitter in like three days because she’s so quick to give up. she’s an irresponsible, lazy, struggling alcoholic and that’s all gage has ever known her as. he never met his dad but the man wasn’t any better. the two of them just weren’t fit to be parent’s and his mom unfortunately never stepped up after his dad walked out

before going to college he never had his own bedroom. they could only ever afford shitty, run down, one bedroom apartments and his mom would shove him onto the couch so she could have men over whenever she wanted. he didn’t mind much because he had a really old xbox that he’d play until he was so exhausted he just passed out. that was his nightly routine throughout middle & high school

his mom wasn’t abusive...she’s a very loving women & cares about gage when she really needs to but for the most part he was on his own growing up. sometimes when they were in between homes he’d have to hunt down friends & sleep on their couches. he was only nine the first time they were homeless. she hardly spent money on him so he had the same wardrobe all through out elementary school despite growing out of it. they also never had food in the house so he’d work for free at local deli’s...like sweeping their floors & stuff & they would throw him some food ! if it weren’t for kind neighbors he wouldn’t have eaten

when he was a kid he got bullied pretty harshly for being poor. like...these kids would steal the shirt off his back & laugh because they knew he didn’t have another one. he grew up in a pretty bad neighborhood :/ when he got a little older...probably around thirteen he started to come to terms with his sexuality & he didn’t feel the need to hide it at all ? he was a happy, bubbly kid that was comfortable in his skin. but there was a lot of homophobia in his neighborhood & they didn’t take too kindly to him. he got beat up pretty severely & it happened often. partly because he had a big mouth but mostly because they didn’t like how flamboyant he was.

flash forward to when he was fifteen & he started experimenting with sex. he met this older guy in his neighborhood that took a liking to him (this guy was like forty-five ew) & they started hanging out a lot. after knowing each other for a few months the guy asked gage if he would meet up with one of his friends & gage being the innocent babe he was just said ok ! so he meets up w this guy & long story short this guy got him into being an escort...at only fifteen :/

he’s been working as an escort ever since & it’s done a lot of good for him ! he was v v popular & was getting paid like 10k for dates back in new york. he saved up money for a few years while he was in high school & eventually made enough to buy his mom a house (not that she deserved it). even though his childhood was shitty he’ll always love her...he’s away at school now but still sends her as much money as he can so that she doesn’t have to work. he’s such a giver & takes care of the people he loves...even when they don’t take care of him *cries*. business is slower while he’s at school but he still makes enough money to pay his tuition & support his mom. he doesn’t spend much money on himself because he already feels like he’s kinda selfish just for going to school

he’s a criminal justice major because he wants to be a probation officer one day ! he wants to be the nicest most lenient probation officer he can be...& he wants to be able to get his homies off the hook that’s his mentality w it. he’s a sheep as well because....he’s not smart enough for that app

personality:

such a sweet fucking boy i swear. not only does he take care of his not so great mother but he’s also big on taking care of his friends. the type of guy to give a drunk girl his shoes, pay for everyone’s hangover meals, pay for all the ubers....he really milks himself dry for other people honestly

he’s really gullible & kinda dumb. will say yes to just about anything, doesn’t know how to use a microwave without burning something, can’t follow instructions for shit either

i’m sure he has to go through A LOT of tutoring to keep his grades up to par but he really does try his best *gives him a gold star*

he has a really bad habit of letting people use & abuse him. like there’s been plenty of times where he’s gone to meetup with someone that was suppose to pay him but instead they just...had their way with him & hauled ass & yea it makes him feel like shit but he tries not to let it get to him :/

when he was six yrs old he told his mom that one day he would own all the legos in the world & she called it stupid so now he has a collection of legos ! i’m proud of him :) he has a lego house that he built when he was twelve & he keeps a couple grand stashed in it for a rainy day...& if someone were to steal it he wouldn’t care about the money he’d just be sad that they broke his lego house :(

appearance wise he always looks pretty disheveled, might smell a little bad because he’ll buy a shirt from the thrift store & not wash it, he never spends a lot of money on stuff for himself. the nicest clothing items he owns are things that sugar daddies have bought him & he only wears them on dates

he does a lot of expensive drugs & drinks a lot of expensive alcohol because it’s given to him & he doesn’t know how to say no

he looks tired & worn out all the time because he 100% is but tries to keep a smile on his face anyway...if you ask him how he’s doing he’ll always say he’s doing well because tbh compared to how his life was as a child he kinda is ? he’s not hungry anymore, not struggling financially, putting himself through school...i love him

he’s gay but doesn’t exclusively sleep w men. he has just as many sugar mamas as he does daddies. older women really love him ! he’s young, pretty & dumb...again he’s a giver so he’ll give head to just about anyone

he does an unhealthy amount of cocaine which explains why he’s so awake & talkative all the time. it’s offered to him so he takes it ? someone stop him. he see’s a lot of men that will pump him w drugs just to take advantage of him & he knows it the back of his mind that it’s happening but the money & the buzz is too good

ending this like an essay because i’m drunk at this point omfg so in conclusion gage is a sweet boy w a big heart that get’s kicked around for no good reason love him

#tw drugs #tw alcoholism #tw violence #tw homophobia #nothing detailed #this got messier as i typed because i cant feel my fingers or my brain #intro

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