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be my angel | four - late september 1991

warnings: swearing

word count: 3.5k

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September moves so slowly that Ted almost thinks that time isn’t passing at all. Now that they’ve mailed the pictures to the publishers of the magazine, there’s not a lot left to do. Nick had been overruled very quickly, and the close-up she’d taken had made it into the batch that got sent in.

Two weeks later, things feel rather normal again.

Ted leans against the wall of the elevator as it rumbles up to their floor. She’s about one tantrum away from quitting this babysitting job, even if it pays significantly more than her last job. This child was slowly turning into an absolute nightmare, and Ted really isn’t sure how much more of this she can take.

As she unlocks the grate she is greeted with the by now familiar sight of Nick coming down the stairs from the loft. He waves when he notices her.

“You look like you’ve been through hell.” he chuckles.

Ted toes off her shoes before she drops her bag next to them.

“I think this child is the devil. Only marginally better than the girl from the Exorcist.” she sighs, shaking her head.

She hears Nick laugh as she passes him on her way to the sofa, but she can’t bring herself to turn back to acknowledge it.

She flops down on the sofa with a groan. She’s sure that she has multiple scratches on her arm too. It honestly doesn’t surprise her that these people can’t keep a babysitter.

Nick slumps down on the other end of the sofa, “Maybe it’s time to get out of there again.”

Ted tries to get a glimpse at him, but from this angle she can barely see him.

“Do you know how much they pay me to watch that little demon?”

“Not worth it if it makes you feel this bad.” he offers, “Look for something better and get out of there.”

Their conversation drifts on for a while longer before Nick declares that he wants to keep working on a song. Ted watches as he climbs up the stairs again, but manages to avert her gaze just as Nick turns towards her again.

She remains where she is – flat on her back – for a while longer.

Eventually, Ted removes herself from the sofa to pop a bowl of leftovers into the microwave. It’s almost six and Noah should be home in a bit, but Ted honestly does not want to wait for him today. She retreats into the sanctity of her bedroom to eat in silence.

Through the open window, she hears the noise of the street below. Her head buzzes with the beginnings of a thunderous headache.

With the empty bowl placed on her desk, Ted lies down on top of the bed again. As much as she tries to deny it – she feels lost.

The high of shooting the show and getting everything for the magazine ready has long worn off. She can’t remember if she’s ever felt the way she had during the show. The adrenaline that had come with it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. And now she’s left in this odd limbo.

The conversation she had with Nick a while back still swirls around her head. She had enjoyed the whole process of it, and maybe – in a subconscious way — she had made herself believe that it hadn’t impacted her in the slightest. She’s starting to realise that maybe trying out this new thing has opened a door for her.

Before she gets to indulge the thought much further, she hears the door to the apartment slam shut.

“Nick?” she hears Noah yell, “Nick! Get down here. I got it. It’s here.”

A moment later, she hears Nick bolt down the stairs. Ted drags herself up and out of bed to see what all the excitement is about. She opens her bedroom door just in time to see them meet in the middle of the living room.

“Let me see.” Nick says excitedly, yanking what looks to be a CD from Noah’s hands.

Ted remembers to get her camera from the dining table. She’s been trying to capture more impromptu moments to train her eye for those little scenes. She stays in the background as Nick tears into the plastic film.

She snaps a few pictures while the boys insert the CD into the stereo, already caught up in a heated discussion over the contents of the album.

Nick remains sitting on the floor, but scoots back so that he can lean against the sofa. He ends up sitting right in front of where Ted is already sitting with her legs pulled up against her chest.

Noah finally presses play, and the first scrappy sounds blare out of the speakers.

There’s something raw about it.

And while Ted maybe can’t relate to the emotion behind it, she’s still able to understand it – at least she thinks so.

She looks down to where Nick is sitting in front of her. His head is tipped back as he listens intently. Ted can’t look away from him, not even when his eyes open to meet hers. Nick holds her gaze for a long moment. He gives her a barely there smile before he leans forward to pick up the CD case from the coffee table. Ted watches over his shoulder as he studies the credits at the back of the booklet. She can’t make out any of the names from her position, but she assumes that they mean at least something to Nick.

As the album continues, Ted finds herself surprised again and again. This album is unlike anything she’s ever heard. In a way, she finds herself reminded of how she felt when Noah played her Psychocandy for the first time. It doesn’t sound anything like Nevermind, but the amount of noise she finds herself faced with feels similar to her. Ted thinks that she’ll need a few listens to really get into this, but she can see herself enjoying it. The boys’ excitement certainly helps to convince her.

Ted is somehow still not used to the fact that people at this bar are starting to recognise her. They have their regular spot in the back of the room, a cramped little table that is usually occupied by someone from their group. When Noah and Ted arrive on that evening, they find Folio trying to work through some sort of paperwork. From the way he stuffs the papers into the inside of the jacket, Ted assumes that he doesn’t want to talk about it. A small part of her wants to push, ask him, but at the same time putting him on the stop like that doesn’t feel right either.

Instead, she asks him about the apartment he’d looked at earlier that week. The immediate disappointment on his face tells her that he still hadn’t found a place.

The conversation drifts from one thing to another and eventually, Ted makes her way over to the bar to pick up more drinks.

Ted hops onto one of the barstools, waiting for Nick to find her.

She watches as he talks and laughs with another patron. Her eyes find his hands. She’s always been a little fascinated by the ink that decorates his skin. Ted watches as he finishes drying off the glass in his hands. At first, seeing all of these tattoos had scared her a little, even the few Noah has are new and novel to her. Growing up she’s always been told that only people who account for nothing end up with tattoos, violent delinquents, punks or whatever subgroup they could come up with.

These people were none of that — Nick was none of that. He’s kind and softer than he likes to admit. He gives his last dollar to the homeless man who sits on the corner they pass on their way from the Bell Tower to the apartment. He’s been trying to make up for sleeping on their sofa with breakfast and sandwiches. He —

“Teddie?” A hand waves in front of her face, “Ted?”

She shakes herself out of her stupor.

“Everything okay?” there's a smidgen of concern in his voice that makes Ted’s heart clutch a little.

“Sorry, just kinda – zoned out for a moment.” she shakes herself a little, “We need new drinks and can you give me a bag or two of chips?”

“Hungry?”

“Starving actually.”

Nick hums in acknowledgement.

He hands her three bottles and two of the small bags of chips they keep below the counter.

“I’ll put it on the tab. Remind Noah that you’ll have to pay it at some point. Please.”

She hops off the chair again, “I’ll try my best.”

Ted is back at their table for maybe twenty minutes when Nick shows up at their table again. He places a plate with a sandwich in front of her. He sets another plate down before he pulls one of the free chairs away from the table and plants himself in it.

“Wait, why am I not getting anything?”

“Did you want a sandwich?” Nick asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

“No, but why is Ted getting something, and I’m not?”

Nick shakes his head, “Because Ted said that she’s hungry.”

He takes a healthy bite out of his, and that finally kicks Teddie into action again.

Ted lifts the top slice of the sandwich to see what Nick had prepared for her. She finds carefully shingled tomatoes between the slices, a healthy helping of pepper and a good layer of mayo – her favourite. Ted can’t fight the warmth that blossoms in her chest.

She can’t remember when she told Nick about this, but the fact that he remembered at all makes her feel all kinds of warm and fuzzy on the inside.

She’s halfway through her sandwich when the next character enters the stage.

Matt, still clad in the video store polo, slides into the booth next to Noah. From how out of breath he is, Ted thinks that he rushed to her there. And Ted isn’t sure that she’s ever seen Matt rush anyway.

He takes a few laboured breaths before he slams a plastic bag onto the table.

“You will not believe what I found.” he begins, “Davis got a call about some old guy’s archive being up for sale. Lots of weird porn – but some treasures too.”

He reveals a plain VHS case with a simple, formerly white sticker on the front. The handwriting is nearly impossible to make out with how yellowed it is.

“Highest quality tape of Night of the Living Dead I’ve ever seen.” his excitement immediately colours off on Nick.

“Full version too, as far as I could see.” Matt continues.

The rest of their conversation quickly becomes background noise in Ted’s mind as she zeros in on Nick. She shouldn’t stare like this, but seeing him talk so animatedly makes her feel like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Her attention is pulled elsewhere, when Folio wraps her up in a different conversation.

“Nick said you’re photographing more shows?” he asks, leaning into her space a little more.

“I’m thinking about it at least.”

“I saw the pictures. You should absolutely do it.” Folio says with that bright, boyish smile of his, “I thought they were really good.”

“That’s very nice, Nick.” she replies, “He’s introduced me to some people earlier. I think this could be fun.”

He gives her that bright, sparkly-eyed smile, “They should all hire you. If you ever need a helping hand, I’m available. I can borrow my mom’s car or something.”

Ted has to admit that his effort is admirable. And honestly, she can’t deny that he’s cute. His enthusiasm is infectious and when he giggles like he does whenever Ted says something marginally funny she usually finds herself laughing along with him. He reminds her of a boy she went to school with, a year younger than her but practically attached to her from the moment she’d said thank you to him once.

“Ted?” Noah asks, waving his fingers in front of her face, “Move night after Nick’s shift?”

“We have absolutely nothing at home. You didn’t do groceries this week.” she states blankly.

“Okay game plan. I’m getting Jesse and something to drink, you and Folio – snacks. Matt? Do you have one of those cables for VCR? Ours has been acting up.”

Watching Noah delegate people like that always amuses her. Somehow, out of all of them, Noah is the guy with the plan. And at the same time, he can barely bring himself to listen to more than two sentences of most conversations. Sometimes Ted thinks that he’d lose his head if it wasn’t screwed on tight.

With the plan set up, they all go their separate ways. Ted tries to remind Noah that he needs to pay off their tab, but she’s sure that he is so focused on his plan that he’s not listening to anything else.

He joins her and Folio for a little while until he has to make a right to get to where Jesse lives.

Ted knows that there’s a 7-11 on the way from the Bell Tower back to the apartment – they’ve stopped there plenty of times on their drunken walks back home.

They end up with two full baskets of various snacks. She knows that Matt will devour at least a bag of chips at least on his own, and she’d rather have too much than too little in the house.

Folio insists on carrying their bags on his own, and Ted does feel a little awkward walking next to him empty-handed, but she’s willing to let him have this.

“The auto shop isn’t exactly where I see myself for the rest of my life, but it’s good money.” Folio explains, “It’s work, you know?”

Ted thinks back to the conversations she’s had with Nick about the matter.

“What would you do if it wasn’t about the money?” she asks as they wait for the light to turn green again.

Nick thinks for a moment, scrunching up his brows in thought.

“If I wouldn’t have to worry about money — I think I’d be in a band.”

“You play an instrument?”

“I wouldn’t say play. I don’t have a lot of time for it at the moment.”

The little trace of sadness in his voice is glaringly obvious, and it makes her heart clutch a little.

“I’ve never seen you play anything.”

“I don’t have my own kit anymore, but Matt lets me use his sometimes,” he explains.

“Can’t you just play in a band for fun?”

Folio gives a cynical little laugh in response, “I don’t think I’m good enough for that. And regardless of that, I don’t think my dad would let me.”

Ted wants to say more, but Nick quickly changes the topic, and she gets the feeling that she’s hit a topic he doesn’t want to elaborate on right now. She doubts that Matt would let anyone that he didn’t deem good enough near his drums. She’s seen first hand how protective he is of them.

Noah and Jesse haven’t made it back to the apartment when they get there. Ted assumes that they got held up somewhere. With how many people they both know, it wouldn’t surprise her if they got wrapped up in a conversation somewhere.

Folio helps her distribute the snacks around the living room.

They’re just getting the popcorn Noah will undoubtedly demand ready when the elevator rattles up to their floor.

The grate is pushed open, revealing Noah and Jesse.

Noah presses an awfully wet kiss to her cheek when he figures out that she remembered the popcorn without him having to mention it.

“You’re an angel, Ted. A real blessing.” he sing-songs with his arms still wrapped around her.

Ted isn’t sure that he hasn’t already tasted whatever liquor they bought.

The next ones to show up are Matt, and who Ted learns is Davis. She’s seen him around the Bell Tower a few times, but she’s never been able to put a name to his face.

“And you’re sure that Nick is coming?” Matt asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Ted knows that he’ll come, his things are still stashed away in the loft. But she doesn’t know if they know that he’s been sleeping on their sofa for the past few weeks. And so Ted remains quiet.

“He said he’ll come.” Noah argues, probably thinking the same thing she is.

“Wouldn’t be the first time he just doesn’t show up.” Matt grumbles in response.

Ted makes a mental note to ask Noah about this at a later date.

She still feels as if she has to catch up on so much history. No matter how much Noah fills her in on, there are still so many open questions, and sure, some of it just isn’t her business. At the same time, Ted sure would like to know why Nick isn’t even looking for a place of his own. It’s not like he’s not contributing, he picks up groceries and dinner, just like they do, but there’s never been an explanation.

Ted swaps the CD from the Metallica album Nick made her put on to one of the albums Jesse had recently shoved into her hands. She’s sure that it’s a game to them by now. It’s not as if she minds it – she’s happy to get to know more things.

With the boys being busy with a heated discussion about something she’s missed entirely, they don’t hear the sound of the doorbell. Ted leans against the door when she picks the receiver.

“Hello?” she asks, clamping the receiver between her ear and shoulder.

“Can you buzz us in?” Nick’s voice sounds from the crackling speaker.

Like everything in this place, it’s on its last leg, too. One of these days, the building will just crumble around them – Ted is sure of it.

“Buzzer’s not working again.” Ted replies quickly, “I’ll come down and let you in.”

She quickly pulls on her trainers before she plucks her keys from the shelf next to the door.

The ride down to the ground-floor feels endless.

Her mind jumps back to what Nick had said a moment ago.

Buzz us in.

For a brief second, a pang of entirely misplaced jealousy shoots through her. Noah would have mentioned if Nick was seeing someone. And even if he is with someone, Ted has no reason to feel jealous.

They’re barely friends.

She doesn’t get to be jealous.

That is so far off the table that she suddenly feels a little ridiculous. Ted tries to shove the feeling to the very back of her mind. She isn’t even sure if she likes Nick like that and much less if he’d like her like that. Or if he’s even interested in being with someone at all. She knows so little about him now that she thinks about it.

The elevator comes to a rattling halt. And by the time Ted opens the grate, she’s excited to see Nick.

When she pulls open the door, she finds herself faced with Nick and Jolly, making her feel even sillier about her earlier bout of jealousy.

Nick stamps out his cigarette, dropping the butt into a nearby sewer grate.

She steps out of the way, allowing Jolly into the hallway. There’s a faint smell of a warm, spice heavy fragrance on him that lingers in her nose as he passes her. She’s never smelled it on him, not that she knows exactly what Jolly smells like. But it stands out enough for her to notice it.

Nick steps into the hallways after him.

“He’s in a real mood today.” Nick grumbles, “Should have left him to stew at the bar.”

Ted can’t help but feel amused. All they do is complain about how grumpy the others are, but Ted knows that deep down they’re all rather fond of each other.

She catches a glimpse of Jolly marching up the stairs when she enters the hallway. Considering what Nick said, she leaves him be and instead follows Nick into the elevator.

“Are we the last ones?” he asks as he pulls the grade shut behind her.

Ted nods, “Matt was sure that you wouldn’t come.”

Nick lets out a sharp laugh, “Of course. You miss one studio day and suddenly, you’re the devil.”

Somehow, Ted had known that it wouldn’t be that deep.

“Also, I wasn’t going to miss you seeing this for the first time. Noah didn’t sleep for two nights straight after Matt made him watch it.” Nick continues with a chuckle, “That’ll be just as much entertainment as the movie itself.”

It takes people a moment to arrange themselves around the living room, and Ted ends up squished in between both Nicks. Maybe she does it subconsciously, but she keeps scooting closer to the older Nick. Every time something scary happens on screen – which happens to be often – Ted shifts just a little bit closer towards him. Nick seems to think that the whole thing is terribly amusing. At some point, he’d looped his arm over her shoulder. She’s grateful for the comfort, but at the same time it makes her cheeks heat up a little. Ted is suddenly awfully glad that everyone seems to be focused on the movie, and no one has the mind to comment on how she’s practically curled against Nick’s side.

His fingers play with the edge of her sleeve. Once in a while, she feels the tips of his fingers brush against her skin, and the minimal touch sends a shiver down her spine. Ted sinks a little further against his side. This kind of touch is a little new to her, but she likes being this close to him.

Denying that she has some kind of interest in Nick feels silly by now. She won’t deny that her heart thumps a little harder when he’s close to her like this. At the same time, she doesn’t want to get too invested in this because reading Nick is about as easy as trying to understand what a brick wall is trying to communicate. For now, she’ll indulge in this.

“Come on, won’t be long until the weather turns shit. We have to use the good weather.” Noah sounds a little like a child trying to barter with their parent, “And you said it yourself, you’ve never been to Coney Island. You can live here for this long and not go.”

Ted knows him well enough to know that Noah has already bullied everyone else into coming. If she says no now they’ll still go, and she’ll miss out on a nice day with her friends.

“Fine.”

Noah gives her a bright smile, “I’ll get you the biggest pretzel. It’ll be great.”

A few hours later, Ted finds herself squished into a metro car between Noah and Jesse. They’re meeting up with the rest of the group at the entry to the grounds. The Nicks have been out on a band related errand, something about picking up equipment that Ted hadn’t entirely understood.

They’re already waiting by the time the three of them make their approach. The only one Ted can’t immediately spot is Matt. Davis quickly waves them over, directing their attention to a phone booth a little ways down the street.

“He’s talking to that person again. The options we’ve ruled out so far are dealer and prostitute.” Davis explains.

Ted shoots a questioning look towards him. Davis drapes an arm across her shoulder, “Matt always talks to some person on the phone. We have no idea who it is. So far, we’ve decided that it’s the same person every time. I don’t know how many people he’d need to call on a regular basis like this. Oh, he usually calls after six. Varying days. I’m saying girlfriend. Noah has suspected multiple, which I think is ludicrous — don’t get me wrong, whatever floats your boat, but look at him — that guy doesn’t have enough game for more than one girl.”

Ted only follows his explanation to a degree, but being let in on their little routines and jokes makes her chest feel a little lighter.

When Matt notices the group practically staring in his direction, he lets out a sigh so exasperated that they can see it from where they’re standing. Instinctively, Ted pulls out her camera, snapping a picture just as Matt holds his middle finger up towards them.

The group bursts into laughter at his discontent with their antics.

When Matt finishes his phone call, their group finally makes its way onto the grounds. Ted moves through the group until she finds her way to Nick.

“Noah said you have shows planned in October?” She asks, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

Ted doesn’t want to assume that they’ll ask her to come with, although she really would not mind it.

Nick hums in agreement, “I was going to ask you if you want to come along for some of them at least? I know you’ll be busy with school, but —” he trails off into his usual gesticulating.

“No, I'd love to. I didn’t want to assume, so I thought I’d ask.”

“Always assume that I want —” He starts, “I — I mean assume that we want you to come with us.”

For a very brief second, Ted feels herself grow a little warm, before she quickly shakes the feeling off again.

They’re barely friends.

Before she gets to debate that feeling in her chest more a hand curls around her arm, “We gotta go on that.”

Folio points towards the large rollercoaster

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on.” he whines, tugging on her arm, “It’ll be fun.”

Noah quickly involves himself, draping his arm across her shoulder, “Yeah come on Ted, maybe you can get someone to hold your hand again.”

She shoves her elbow into his side as best as she can, and Noah lets out a pained yelp in response.

“Fine, I won’t hold your hand.” Noah says with mock disappointment lacing his words, “We should still go.”

She eventually relents and lets Noah and Folio drag her towards the queue. Davis and Matt join them. Nick and Jesse wait for them, and Nick offers to hold on to Ted’s camera for her.

When she turns to check on them, just before their group is let on the ride, she finds Nick already looking out for her, and suddenly she wishes that she had convinced him to come too.

“Don’t chicken out now.” Folio says, turning back to her, “It’s not nearly as bad as it looks.”

Maybe now would be a good time to tell him that she’s not exactly the biggest fan of heights. Ted decides that she’ll bite her way through this if she has to, in the name of doing new things and all that.

Her pulse is racing when they’re entering the carriages. Ted ends up in a row with Folio in the back of the carriage. Noah finds himself seated next to a kid from a different group, who looks as if he is about one bump away from emptying the contents of his stomach.

Ted tries her best to focus on the sounds around her, the noise of the crowd, the faint rushing of water in the distance. She can see that Folio is talking to her, but she honestly cannot bring herself to listen right now.

Their carriage begins to rattle up the steep incline and Ted curses her inability to say no to Noah. As the wagon tips them over the crest of the ride, her hand grips into Folios forearm. After the first big dip and incline it doesn’t feel so bad anymore. The wind that whips through her hair, takes her mind off the discomfort in her tummy. And when the sea finally comes into view, Ted feels shockingly light.

Nick and Jesse meet them at the exit of the ride and Ted — subconsciously — beelines towards Nick. He listens to her account of the ride with rapt attention and continues to do so as they make their way through the crowds to the next destination. They pass by one the carnival game booths and naturally, the boys break into a healthy bit of competition. Folio has seemingly made it his mission to win the big teddy bear for Ted, proclaiming that she’s meant to have it. Deep down, Ted knows what he’s doing, and she does feel a little bad about the fact that he’s doing it all in vain. But discouraging him when he seems to be having such a grand time with this little game doesn’t feel right either.

She’ll have to let him down gently before long.

For now she continues to snap pictures of him as he takes aim. Noah walks a thin line between making fun of his effort and cheering him on with his little jabs. Teddie tries her best to keep her laughter contained, even when Nick cracks up himself.

With all her attention focused on Folio, she hasn’t noticed that Nick has slipped away.

She only realises when he returns, “Corndog or funnel cake?”

“I’m sorry what?”

“Which one do you want? We can share.”

“You can have the corndog but I’m willing to part ways with a bit of the funnel cake.”

They end up sitting on the steps of the booth, trading bites of their snacks with each other and Ted has to remind herself that they are barely friends. Maybe after today they’re a little more friends than they were before.

The little bubble of a moment is shattered when Folio announces his triumphant victory and presents her with his spoils of war. Despite the fact that she does not share his infatuation, she can still appreciate the effort he put in. Ted awards him with a kiss to his cheek, even though she knows that she probably promotes a wrong idea with that. The sight of his bright pink cheeks quickly fades into the background when Nick lets out a huff next to her.

She tries to read the expression on his face, but comes to the conclusion that jealous cannot be the right answer.

Before she can think about it more, their group decides to move on.

The day slowly comes to an end and they all decide to stay for the fireworks at the end of the night. Ted finds herself sitting next to Nick once again. With the sun disappearing from sight, a slight chill has settled over her body. The thin sweater that Ted had picked out this morning, does very little to keep her warm. She shuffles a little bit closer towards Nick, hoping that the bit of warmth that drifts from him will warm her up again. They sit like this for the while, the conversations of their friends sounding all around them. And just when Ted has resigned herself to the chill she feels something being draped over her shoulders. She pulls Nick’s jacket a little closer around her shoulders.

“Thank you.” Ted says quietly, not quite daring to look at him.

“You were shivering.” Nick responds just as quietly, “Is that better?”

Teddie gives a nod in response, “A lot. Still wish I had worn something else.”

“I like what you’re wearing — it — you — I like it.” He stammers, much to Ted's entertainment.

His flustered face brings a smile to her face. Ted drops her head to his shoulder, allowing the exhaustion of the day to take over her body. A few beats later she feels a warm hand at the small of her back.

There’s something comfortable about this, being close to Nick like this. He feels warm and solid next to her and Ted wonders if he feels the same way about her. For now she’s content with this, the comfort of feeling like she’s a part of this group and not just the lost puppy Noah brought along one day.

taglist: @th4t-em0-k1d @malice-ov-mercy @fadingangelwisp @baddestomens @chey-h @theanarchymuse95 @sitkowski @deathblacksmoke @concretejunglefm @xmads-omensx @saythatuwill @lacy1986 @somebodyels3 @ladyveronikawrites @ferduttini @circle-with-me @collapsedglasshouses @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @renegadebirch @ami--gami

#i love this so so so bad!!!!#bad omens fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo x ofc #bad omens au #bad omens fic #i tried to add a gif but my internet hates me

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circle-with-me · 2 months ago

Text

soft skin and soft lips

pairing: jolly karlsson x davis rider

summary: davis gifts jolly a free use arrangement for his birthday.

word count: 3.9K

content warnings: free use arrangement, somnophilia (brief + consensual), oral sex (m receiving), anal sex, rough sex, daddy kink (sorry), biting and slapping, mentions of safe words (not used), boys in love because it wouldn't be a moi fic without it

author's note: ringing a dinner bell shouting everyone come get your rare pair here!!! extra special thank yous to @darksigns-exe for the beautiful header (as always) and @concretejunglefm for the guidance and input as i navigated writing this thing that was so incredibly far out of my comfort zone. i hope everyone enjoys 🤍

dividers by saradika-graphics | tag list sign-up

Sometimes he can’t believe how lucky he is.

When he opens his eyes every morning and turns over in bed to see Davis, sleepy and warm, he almost has to pinch himself to be sure he isn’t dreaming.

When he rolls over this morning, his heart sinks a little to see he’s in bed alone. Davis’ side of the bed is empty, but still warm to the touch, reminiscent of his soft, sleeping form.

There is a slip of paper, neatly folded, perched on Davis’ pillow. Just as he’s unfolding it to see what’s inside, he hears a loud crash echo from the kitchen.

Happy birthday, babe. I’m waiting for you in the kitchen :) Love, Davis

He tries not to feel too overexcited, but sometimes, at least when it comes to Davis, he can’t help it.

He slides on his slippers and pads out of their bedroom. He tries to walk quietly — the further he gets down the stairs, the easier he can smell the breakfast being cooked, the clearer he can hear Davis singing along to the song playing from his speaker.

He stands in the entryway of the kitchen, an impressive breakfast spread already laid out on the island, and still growing judging by Davis’ position in front of the stove.

His eyes pan over to the dining room table, where he sees the biggest bouquet of flowers he’s ever received, a big happy birthday balloon tied to the chair at the head of the table, and a prettily wrapped rectangular gift box sitting next to the place setting.

Having still not been noticed, he decides to make his presence known. He makes sure Davis isn’t wielding any sharp objects before sidling up behind him and wrapping his arms tightly around his waist.

There is no startle, just Davis melting so easily into his hold.

“Good morning, sweet,” Jolly says into the skin of his neck as he peppers little kisses there.

Turning off the stove and twirling around in Jolly’s arms, his eyes are crinkled at the edges as he smiles. Jolly wonders distantly when he’ll ever stop swooning and quickly decides that he never will, and that’s fine by him. He leans in for a kiss and when Davis giggles into his open mouth, he melts.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Davis responds against Jolly’s lips, before squirming away and returning his attention back to the stove, and the breakfast spread. He moves the sizzling bacon from the pan onto the paper towel-lined plate, before he starts speaking again. “I made banana pancakes, strawberry pancakes, bacon, and sausage. I got fresh fruit and cinnamon rolls—”

Jolly wonders how long it took him to do all this, how early he crawled out of bed. He briefly recalls a kiss being placed to his forehead what feels like ages ago. He thought it was a dream.

“I could also make eggs, if you want—”

“This is perfect, Davey,” Jolly interrupts, before Davis has the opportunity to offer anything else. He can’t imagine wanting anything more. “I couldn’t imagine wanting anything more, sweet, thank you.”

He’s sure his expression mirrors Davis’. When Davis’ mouth shifts into a pleased, relaxed smile, his own does much of the same. The hearts in his pupils must be clear as day.

He helps Davis carry plates to the dining room table, and when he sits down, he can hardly see over the massive bouquet. He moves it to the side to see Davis looking at him expectantly.

“I want you to open your present first, I can’t wait,” he says, awfully eager. “There’s a card.”

As he opens the envelope, he watches Davis chew on his bottom lip, his hands shaking. He’s a little nervous to see what’s inside, if it has him so anxious.

What he reads inside the card stops him in his tracks.

He hadn’t thought he was serious.

3 days prior.

It hadn’t felt like a real offer.

They were lying in bed together, enjoying each other’s quiet company — Jolly reading his book, Davis scrolling on his phone. It was said almost as an afterthought as Davis laid his phone down on the nightstand and curled himself into Jolly’s side, asking him what he was reading.

Jolly read him a few passages. Davis hummed happily from where his head was resting on Jolly’s chest.

They’d fallen into a companionable silence for a few moments before Davis broke it again, clearing his throat and squirming nervously. Jolly put his book down and eyed his boyfriend curiously.

“What if for a day, you could do whatever you wanted with me?”

He had only been with Davis for a few months. They had become so close, so quickly, and everything had fallen into place effortlessly. Jolly attributed it to how long they’d known each other already, before the energy shifted and they felt they had no other choice but become something more.

It felt right. He really sometimes cannot believe that he is the one Davis chose.

“Everyday with you is kind of already like that,” Jolly responded, not a complaint he could imagine having. “We want all of the same things — unless you’re just really agreeable.”

Davis smiled, pressed a kiss to Jolly’s bare chest, and snuggled closer. Jolly was sure that beneath Davis’ head, he could feel his heart threatening to thud out of his chest.

“I mean, like really anything. Anything you want, whenever you want it.”

Jolly didn’t know what to say. It didn’t feel like an offer, rather a hypothetical, but he couldn’t deny that he liked the sound of it.

“I think I’d really like that,” he answered eventually, not thinking anything of it other than humoring his love’s hypothetical question with his honest answer.

At the time, the mischievous expression that painted itself across Davis’ face hadn’t meant anything.

So here’s your gift: Me. Today, I’m yours. No asking. No waiting. Just take what you want, when you want it.

Free use. No limits (unless I say my safeword). No shame. Just you, indulging. Me, obeying.

Jolly stares at the card for a few long moments. He sees Davis fidgeting nervously from the corner of his eye and knows he needs to say something, but for a minute, he feels a little frozen in place.

“You’re serious?” he finally manages to ask, hoping he doesn’t come across as uninterested, ungrateful. He’s just having trouble wrapping his mind around the offer — the suddenly very real offer sitting in front of him.

“I am,” Davis responds, his voice cracking just slightly at the end. Jolly doesn’t love the terrified look in his eyes, the worry, the way his brow furrows. “There’s another present there too, just in case you don’t want that one.”

As he slowly unwraps the gift, the overwhelming feeling of I don’t deserve him overtakes him again. It’s a special edition of his favorite book, that he’s been eyeing for months but hasn’t managed to convince himself to pull the trigger on. He doesn’t think he’s mentioned it, and he hopes Davis didn’t pay the full price that he’s been seeing. It’s perfect.

“Come here, pretty,” Jolly says, watching with his own relief as Davis heaves a pretty sigh and relaxes his painfully furrowed brow. Davis settles comfortably into his lap, the weight more than welcome. Jolly presses a lingering kiss to his cheek and feels the skin heat beneath his lips. “This is perfect, sweet. And about the other thing—” he continues, but doesn’t give Davis enough time to panic again. He holds him closer, nuzzling his nose into his neck, inhaling his scent. “You promise you want that?”

“Whatever you want, Jolls,” Davis says, curling a hand around Jolly’s jaw and bringing their faces together. His lips are soft against Jolly’s and it’s hard not to give in to them wholly, to not take him right here and now. “Whenever you want it. Whenever you want me.”

“I always want you, sweet,” he admits, figuring honesty is the best policy if they’re really going to do this. He sneaks a hand up beneath Davis’ t-shirt, his touch exploring his soft, smooth, warm skin. He can’t imagine not wanting him, all the time.

“Then take me,” Davis responds quickly, so desperate it almost sounds like a plea.

He thinks about it for a long moment. It’s awfully tempting, to just take him right here, this perfect pretty boy who’s handing himself over fully to him. But he has a big breakfast spread out in front of him, one that Davis woke up early to prepare just for him, all by himself. He can’t let it all go to waste.

With a hand on his cheek, he brings Davis’ mouth back to his, leaves a long, lingering kiss on his lips, then another, and another, before finally allowing himself to pull away.

“Maybe after breakfast, my love,” he tells him, Davis’ face not falling as he’d worried it would. His eyes crinkle again at the edges and Jolly loves him so much, adores nothing more than looking at him and being with him. “I’d like to get through your other present first. You made this all for me.”

Jolly’s every attempt to help clean up after breakfast is met with Davis shooing him away, swatting him with a dish rag, and finally ordering him out of the kitchen with a go away, you aren’t cleaning up on your own birthday.

He leaves him to it, decides instead to shower while Davis tackles the mess in the kitchen.

Under the stream of the showerhead, his mind wanders back to the card, to the offer. He grapples with how much faith, how much trust Davis must have in him, for him to offer such a thing. And it feels so nice, and it’s awfully tempting—

He doesn’t know if he can go through with it, is the thing. He can’t decide if he’s deserving of the privilege of having free reign over someone else’s body like this, even if it is his boyfriend who trusts him, and who can trust him. He would never dream of hurting him.

Once he’s clean and dressed, he comes back downstairs to a clean kitchen, and peers out the back door to see Davis on the back porch swing, snacking on the bowl of strawberries they’d left untouched with breakfast. He slides open the glass door, presses a kiss to Davis’ cheek and sits down beside him, steals a berry from the bowl. Just how it always happens when they’re with each other, Jolly feels a calm wash over him again.

Maybe he could do it. Everything else is right. It isn’t like he would take advantage of it.

His mind empties of all thoughts of that as Davis rests his head on his shoulder, letting out a pretty little sigh and inching himself closer.

“What do you want to do today?” Davis asks, before setting off on the pre-planned spiel Jolly knew he would have. “We can do anything you want, my treat. We could go to the botanical gardens, the book store, The Getty, the pier, anywhere you want for lunch. I did make dinner reservations for us later—”

As much as Jolly appreciates and loves Davis trying to make his birthday special, it’s not something he needs. They’ve been so busy in the studio lately, this day off feels so lucky. Nothing sounds better to him than a relaxing day in with his love, nothing on the agenda, for once.

“Why don’t we just stay in today?” Jolly offers, waits for Davis’ face to fall and is pleased when it doesn’t. Davis has been busy, too, tired — the twinkle in his eye indicates to Jolly that a day in is welcome.

“We can watch a movie, and I’ll order us lunch and snacks,” Davis says — staying in doesn’t mean he’ll let the day go to waste, be any less of a celebration of Jolly. “Any movie you want. Even if I hate it.”

Jolly can’t help but laugh, yank Davis over closer, as close as he can manage to press a big, wet kiss to his forehead. He knows what even if I hate it means, it means if you want me to watch a rom-com, now is your chance.

He sneaks the hand around Davis’ waist up under his shirt, sinks his fingers into his skin, makes sure he’s pulled as closely to Jolly’s side as he can possibly get. He presses another sweet kiss to Davis’ forehead and he feels Davis push his head up closer like a cat, asking for more.

“That sounds perfect, pretty,” Jolly tells him, knowing just the thing to make Davis hum happily, squirm closer. “Let’s just relax out here for a little bit.”

The lunch spread is a little outrageous. It’s more than they’d ever get from chinese on a normal day, but he couldn’t quite argue with Davis’ arguments of but it’s your birthday. When Jolly mentioned they had plenty of snacks in the house already, he was met with the same argument.

It covers almost the entirety of the coffee table, and he’s sure most of it will end up in the fridge for leftovers tomorrow, the next day —

But he can’t complain about being spoiled, especially as Davis without even a complaint tosses on Notting Hill, and even tries his very best to pay attention.

It’s more than halfway through the movie when Jolly notices he’s drifted off to sleep, his head resting a little heavier on Jolly’s shoulder. Jolly smiles. He was up so late last night, so early this morning to make sure everything today was perfect. He tried so hard to stay awake for the movie that he has never shown any interest in watching, but knows is one of Jolly’s favorites.

Jolly takes pity on him, wants him cozy, even if it creates distance. He gently rearranges Davis so he’s lying on his back, his legs spread out over Jolly’s lap. This way Davis can sleep well, and Jolly can enjoy the rest of the movie without any heavy breathing in his ear, not that he’d ever mind.

Some time later when the credits begin to roll and he shuts off the tv, he’s torn between taking the leftovers to the fridge and grabbing his book from the end table and reading, giving Davis a little more undisturbed sleep.

He chances a look over at him and decides he won’t be getting up just yet. He watches Davis sleep, soft and sweet, as the early afternoon light filters in through the blinds and casts the most gorgeous glow over him. It’s then that it finally sets in.

He’s allowed.

Davis’ leg rests across his lap and Jolly allows himself to graze a gentle hand over his skin. He stirs subtly, shifts from lying on his side to stretching out on his back. He stretches his arms above his head but doesn’t wake, and Jolly’s eyes glaze over.

He’s allowed.

His shirt has ridden up to reveal the smallest sliver of skin above his waistband. Jolly’s fingers have long memorized the way his skin feels, the slight give of his tummy, the sounds he makes and —

He’s allowed.

The explicit permission runs big and bold through his head.

Today, I’m yours. No asking. No waiting. Just take what you want when you want it.

As gently as he can, he moves Davis’ legs so he can crawl between them. He doesn’t stir for a moment, subconsciously lets out a happy little hum when Jolly presses featherlight kisses to his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, down over his collarbone, but he doesn’t wake.

He begins a descent back down Davis’ body, lifting his shirt up to pepper kisses over the soft, smooth skin of his tummy. When he slides down the waistband of Davis’ shorts, he’s met with no underwear — and he’s sure this was a part of the plan.

He wraps a loose hand around Davis’ still-soft cock, presses another kiss to his tummy, the faintest nibble. He sucks gently at the tip and hopes it rouses him, just a little. He doesn’t want to disturb him, per se. He’s happy to let him keep sleeping. He needs to hear green, just once.

“Davis,” he whispers, tightening his grasp, needing just a moment of his attention.

“Yeah, baby?” Davis responds, almost subconsciously. His voice is thick with sleep but he stirs anyway, lifting his head only a little to look down at Jolly between his legs. “Oh. Good boy.”

The unexpected praise goes straight through him. Davis threads his fingers through Jolly’s hair, gets a handful and tugs, leads Jolly down to where he wants him, and he decides it’s more of a green than the actual word could be.

He loses himself in it, allowing himself to go brainless as the only thing on his mind is the weight of Davis on his tongue, his grip loosening and tightening in his hair as he loses himself to the pleasure, too.

Davis squirms beneath him, pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside like everything is just too much, makes the prettiest sounds that Jolly doesn’t know if he could ever tire of hearing. He does the thing with his tongue that he knows Davis likes, and the grip in his hair tightens almost painfully, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

He wants to make him cum, get him relaxed before he fucks him. He doesn’t know if he can be gentle like he normally is, doesn’t know when the switch flipped in his brain and this has made him crazy, doesn’t know if he can be careful, diligent.

He’s learned two things since they’ve been together, after enough encounters on this sofa — always keep lube handy, and if Davis stretches just right, he can reach the drawer of the end table without anyone having to get up.

“Honey, get the lube for me, please,” Jolly requests, stretching one hand up Davis’ torso before returning back to his task.

Davis, presumptuous but correct, pours out some lube onto Jolly’s waiting hand. Jolly looks up at him and notices his mischievous expression back, and when his slick fingers travel down to where Davis wants them, he understands why.

Instead of the nothing that he’d expected, he’s met with a pretty glass plug with a rose at the end. He should have expected something like this, with the offer. His mind goes blank.

“Prepared, are you?” Jolly asks, and he’s sure his tone makes Davis go shy, with the way he seems more hesitant than normal as he nods. “You know that’s my favorite part.”

“I wanted to help out,” Davis responds, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d buy it. If he wasn’t very familiar with all of Davis’ games, he would find it sweet. He has once again found himself two steps behind his boyfriend’s mischief.

All plans to make him cum and get him relaxed before he’s inside him have gone. Any attempt he would have made to be extra gentle, extra thorough, have left. And he’s sure that’s what Davis wanted, what he planned for today. He knows him.

He has to get inside of him.

He removes the plug as slowly and as gently as he can. Davis squirms, whines Jolly’s favorite whine.

“I don’t think I can be gentle,” Jolly warns him, and Davis is quick to nod, an overeager look in his eyes. So it was his plan all along. “I need you to tell me that’s okay.”

“I told you whatever you—” Davis starts, cut off by Jolly’s harsh slap to the outside of his thigh.

“What I want is for you to tell me that’s okay,” Jolly demands, and Davis is nodding before he’s even done speaking, desperate.

“It’s more than okay,” he responds. “Of course it’s okay.”

There is an attempt, still, to go slowly with him. He said he wouldn’t hurt him. Davis welcomes him in so perfectly, just like always, and his brain shuts off completely. His hips snap and the final few inches are shoved in all at once, and Davis squeals the cutest little sound Jolly has ever heard. It doesn’t help.

Davis’ legs wrap around Jolly’s waist and it’s not quite right, the access not what he wants. He needs to be deeper, needs to hear those sounds over and over and over again. He maneuvers Davis’ legs over his shoulders, lays his weight on the backs of his thighs and— he didn’t know he could bend like that.

He captures Davis’ lips with his, sure he’ll ache for a few days with the way Jolly is using him, with the force behind each snap of his hips into Davis. He has to remind himself—

He’s allowed.

“You’re doing so well for me, sweet,” he tells him, Davis’ breath coming out hot and fast against his cheek. He whines as Jolly moves faster, thrusts harder, lets out the prettiest little gasp that goes right through Jolly. “You feel so good around me.”

He watches Davis’ face closely, as he tries to form words but can’t quite do it. He gets it — he’s been on the receiving end enough times to know how quickly your brain can shut off, how easy it is to lose yourself completely to the feeling.

“Daddy—”

Jolly barely catches it. It’s said softly, in a breath, like he wasn’t even meant to hear it, said like a prayer. His expression shifts quickly after that, and Jolly can’t decide if it’s pain or pleasure, not until the splash of cum he feels against his belly and sees painting Davis’ chest and collarbones.

Davis goes boneless, sated, and Jolly’s eyes glaze over.

“Good fucking boy,” Jolly tells him, sinking his teeth into the meat of Davis’ shoulder, his grip into Davis’ thigh, folding him as far as he possibly can to get him closer, to get himself there.

It doesn’t take much.

“Fill me up,” Davis whines, tightening around him. It only takes one, two more thrusts before Jolly stills, does what he’s asked. His arms give out beneath him, and Davis is quick to move his legs out of the way, welcome Jolly into his arms.

“You did that on purpose,” Jolly says once he’s come down, peppering little kisses across his cheeks before Davis pulls him in for a proper kiss."

“Everything I do is on purpose,” Davis quips, earning himself another smack, but he still smiles. Everything he does is on purpose.

“I’ll clean up lunch,” Jolly offers when they’ve both gotten dressed again. He watches as Davis tries to argue, but stops him in his tracks. “Don’t argue — just go get pretty for dinner. Let Daddy take care of you.”

Davis’ cheeks turn a pretty pink. Jolly’s sure they’d be warm to the touch. He reaches out, presses a long kiss to his lips, and he’s right. His hands practically burn with it.

He shoos Davis off upstairs for a shower, but Davis returns to Jolly for one more message.

“Don’t forget, the offer is good until midnight,” Davis whispers in his ear, but the next bit is what stills him. “Maybe longer if you earn it."

tags <3

@circle-with-me @darksigns-exe @concretenoah @concretejunglefm @baddestomens @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @malice-ov-mercy @mysticdoodlez @somebodyels3 @sorrowsofsilence @collapsedglasshouses @fadingangelwisp @cookiesupplier @spicywhenspeaking @lacy1986 @agravemisstake @cncohshit @dominuslunae @poisongirl616 @iknownothingpeople @thisbicc @theanarchymuse95 @shilohrosechicken @blackveilomens @geminigirlfromfinland @lilgarbitch @renegadebirch @kenjipepsi1 @tosoundlessdarkistare

#BYEEEEEEE #BYE #SEE YALL LATER #👋🏻#jolly karlsson fic #davis rider fic #bad omens fic #jolly karlsson smut #bad omens smut

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