#both the shit we cooked and a bundle of fresh to make later

[moriphyte]

mom: do you wanna take this food home?

me:

[mrskurono]

REPOST FROM MY NON WRITING BLOG title: breakdown of break through || Kageyama Tobio x fem!Reader a/n: again, a repost from my real old blog I just got tired of going back onto it to find this when I wanna comfort binge it. So I’m just posting it here for easy access for myself word count: 3k tags: fluff, friends to lovers ish trope, timeskip!Kageyama, adults enjoying two (2) beers with a meal, unedited character(s): Kageyama Tobio (hq) synopsis: Tobio arranged for you to come pick him up when he came back for a visit. His plane was early. You were on time. Suddenly you’re eating a meal with his family like your back in high school all over again. This time though he finds the words he couldn’t before.

Through break down or black out that name lit up on your phone like none other.

Tobio.

Now though you were getting a slough of texts. Phone humming in your hand. Giving you no time to look at the messages and look for the black haired man in the crowded airport. Once more you glanced up at the gate number knowing it was the right one he told you. Where was he then?

Fed up finally you skip past all the texts just to call him. Only a single ring on the other end and you spoke before he had a chance, "Where are you?"

"What?"

"Where are you?" You repeat into the phone a little sharper than intended, "I'm at the gate I thought you were going to get off?"

"I'm already off, I'm at my place I thought-"

"Oh my god when did you land then?!" Huffing you were about to hang up and find the incriminating texts that said when his flight got in. Of course you didn't because Tobio stopped you.

"I told you when I left things were early so I'd be landing about two hours before and we didn't have a layover." Tobio's voice pauses on the other end as you groan loudly into the phone speaker to let him know how displeased you were. "Wait, where are you?"

"I'm at the terminal you idiot!" With little care for anyone looking at you like the mad woman screaming into your phone that you were, "Where are you already?!"

"My place I told you! Are you going to come over or not?!"

"W-What?" You stop a second like you didn't hear him, "What?"

"I said are you coming over? I thought we were going to hang out."

Not what was agreed on. In fact you intended to pick him up and the idea of hang out was maybe you'd grab a bite to eat then that be it. You hadn't seen one another in, oh well, it had to be two almost three years now. Sure you texted each other almost every day. With regular facetime happening weekly. The idea of seeing each other face to face though. It left your stomach tight and a bundle of nerves a little less than understandable. He was a big shot volleyball player now. Being friends with a celebrity felt weirder to you than you cared to admit. You thought if maybe just a lunch and then he could go see the guys things would be alright. Instead now he was asking you to come hang out at his place all of a sudden.

"What?" You echo yourself for a third time like he asked.

"I told you to come over! I thought that's what we were gonna do!"

You swallow the lump in your throat as you grip your phone tighter, "Wait- What about the others and Shoyo I just thought-"

"Just come over already."

Undeniable click on the other end when he hung up. No second to dispute it in the moment. You wanted to hang out. You really did. But something ate you. Nerves. Maybe this was a bad idea. What you had going was perfect and seeing each other for the first time in years seemed like you were going to ruin something. Unsure what there was to ruin. You two were friends. This white knuckled grip on your phone seemed silly. But why wasn't it going away?

Shaking the nerves out like you could simply whisk them away. You pocketed your phone ready to still yell at him for mixing up such a simple schedule and making you go to the airport like an idiot.

Last time you recalled being at Tobio's place was for a going away party. Of course his own because his mother threw it and all of the volleyball team and tagalongs were included. It was fun last time, with everyone that is. Yachi and Kiyoko to be with, you really enjoyed yourself the last time you were here. But now you wondered if you could have just as much fun without all your friends around to buffer you.

One might mock the twenty something year old for keeping his stuff at home. Repeatedly Tobio asked why would he move when most his time was spent in Germany. He came home to see family and friends anyways. Keeping his things there only made more sense.

Finding yourself wrapping your knuckles on the Kageyama's door after you finally made it to where he was and not the airport. It took but one wrap to be greeted by the setter in a heartbeat.

"Tobio!" Your eyes widen, having to actually tip your head back to look at him. Was he this tall last time you saw him, "Your- Where is-"

"My mom's out with my sister. You missed that cry fest already," His blue eyes roll to the back of his head only for a second. Followed by a cheeky smile. An actual smile crossing his lips as he looks down at you for a moment. Perhaps realizing he really was looking down at you, "It's uh..."

"Been a while?" You feel the tips of your ears getting warm.

This was stupid. Utterly insane.

You saw him almost every week on the screen of your phone. Why was this so much different? Why couldn't there be someone else here to buffer this for you.

"Two and a half years since you came and saw me in Germany," Tobio palmed the back of his head with that crooked smile on his face wearing a hole in your heart.

You look him up and down, still in athletic gear like it was all he owned. Actually that was probably true. He was shit at figuring what to wear so Tobio just opted for brand loyalty of anyone who gave him free stuff. Those athletic shorts a testament to that fact considering you at least tried to wear something nice and clean to pick him up at the airport he decided to leave from.

"What the hell is with you not telling me you left early!?" Snapped back to the indignance you felt at the airport and the drive over, you cross your arms with a peeved look.

"That's not true!" He dug into his pocket for his phone. Quick to shove it in your face of your text conversation last night. Tobio pointing out the text he explained poorly as an early flight. You couldn't focus in the seconds following when the fresh scent of his familiar deodorant hit you.

It'd been so long. You'd forgotten how much you loved the way he smelled even when you were in school together. To think it still made your chest as tight as it did back when you were teenagers. Almost enough to make you not notice your name in his phone.

There, tacked onto the end your name was a heart. A double take in order. That was until Tobio realized you weren't looking at his text. And right away he yanked his phone away from your view. Cheeks dusted with red as he fidgeted and tried to push his hair back off his face to no avail. Absorbed too much in his phone you hadn't realized his hair was wet as well. Explaining why you could smell his familiar deodorant so easily. He'd obviously taken a shower.

"You took a shower like I haven't seen drenched in sweat?" You break the forming ice between the two of you in an attempt to not let it get any worse. Even if your ears feel as hot as the sun. Your attempt seems to ease something between the two of you and Tobio let a bit of a smile soften on his features.

"You gonna stand out there like an idiot?" He looked at you point blank.

"You gonna ask me to come in like a decent host?" You shoot back.

Maybe you didn't need the buffer of everyone else to hang out with your friend.

Explaining his mom and sister had gone to go get things for dinner as well as pick his grandma up. The offer to stay for a home cooked meal was extended to you quickly. Apprehensive to accept seeing as things were going well now but maybe not so much later. You didn't want to overstay your welcome. Tobio really wasn't going to take no for an answer. Even repeating that dinner was going to be served and it was one of your favorite concoctions Mrs. Kageyama made. Unsure of the last time you had a home cooked meal like that. You begrudgingly accept because your stomach really did speak up for you.

First met with the fear of how long you and Tobio might be alone together. It thankfully wasn't enough time for you to stick your foot in your mouth. Both his sister and mom showed up with grandma Kageyama in tow. All three women more than excited to see you since it'd been a few months since you stopped by. Tobio's mom showering you in affection as her 'good' child seeing as you came to visit far more than her son. A cranky Tobio argued that he lived all the way in Germany there was just no 'coming over' to visit. He hardly won that argument.

Much like the times in high school when you came over. Mrs. Kageyama asked if you would help with dinner. Extending an extra set of hands to meal prep meant you did find a bit of a buffer from being left alone with Tobio for too long. Ironically though instead of spending his time on his phone or something capturing his attention on the tv. Tobio was in the kitchen with the rest of the family helping with what little prep there was to spare between the four of you.

He really was shit at cooking but it was cute to watch the world renowned setter get scolded by his mom even at this age. Each time you giggled he'd shoot you a glare that only lasted a few seconds. Unable to hold it as his cheeks would gain a dusting of pink and he'd just huff and go back to doing it better like his mom told him to.

This felt good. This felt like home. It had been a while since you felt like this.

"And dinner is done!" Mrs. Kageyama was happy to announce the mini feast. More than you ever thought was needed for a dinner. You suspected maybe her son being home had something to do with it. Though with how much she made you expected some more visitors. That was dashed though when you realized he still ate like a horse. Snickering you won't deny Mrs. Kageyama knew what she was doing in the kitchen. Everything you eat feels like a warm hug. And that wasn't just the beer you had with dinner speaking for you. This really felt amazing.

"Hey," Tobio stood above you once he'd clear the table after his mom and sister said they'd be back after dropping grandma Kageyama off, "You want another?"

A second you realize he's looking down at the empty beer in front of you, "Um-"

"I was gonna have another anyways," Tobio gives you an answer before you can have a chance.

Matching cans he brings you one but mentions he's going to go sit outside for a bit. Wondering if you'd like to come with. Stuffed with dinner you were pretty sure you could move if you forced yourself to. So you find yourself trailing him to the back patio ever so familiar to you.

Outside looks so much different than you remember. No more volleyball net. The sets of poles gone. No random volleyballs left out or scattered everywhere. You'd seen this yard a million times since graduation but for some reason it felt weird sitting out there with the volleyball fanatic himself and not a single volleyball in his grasp.

The crack of his beer reminds you of the one in your grasp. Following suit you open your own and take a sip before setting it on the table next to his. Alone together but you could do this.

"...how long you planning on staying?" Out of everything, he hadn't told you how long his little vacation was going to last this time.

"I don't know." A very unlike him answer. You turned to him just to see Tobio looking out at the yard in front of the both of you with a glazed over look.

"What about the team? Did everyone come back with you too?" Figuring everyone was on break then, Kōrai, Wakatoshi and Fukurō must have come back to visit family too since they weren't a bother in the last video call you had together.

"I don't know." Again with the vacant look. Tobio was earning a scowl from you now. He only had a single beer with dinner too so he had no excuse to be this spacy. Seconds away from getting the grumpy side of you, he turns to meet your gaze, "I took a little bit of time off."

Wow.

There hadn't been anytime off since graduations. Not any on purpose that was. Tobio had been moving forward to make sure he wasn't left behind just like the others did after graduating. Getting to where he was now was no easy feat. For him to take a break was utterly concerning.

"Did something happened? With the guys? The Schweiden team are-"

"No, it was my choice." Tobio looked at you then down to your pair of drinks, "I had something bothering me."

"Alright you know what-" Huffing you square up with him across the patio table, "What the hell? First you don't tell me when you're getting here. Then you get here hours early and don't tell me. Your mom made you re-chop the garlic twice and you didn't say anything. And you haven't mentioned harassing Shoyo over the phone one time. What's up with you?"

Blue eyes staring at you from across the table. Much like the way he stared at you the day he told you he'd be going to Germany. Unlike then the stomach lurking feeling you got from that day didn't measure up to now. Tobio's fixed expression unreadable on his familiar yet so different face. You were looking at your friend but someone entirely new in front of you all at once.

Between the time you waited for an explanation and when he moved forward. Time sped up. His lips against yours before you knew it. In a moment so fleeting that you weren't able to do anything but stare at him when he came back into your full line of sight.

The way you didn't say anything sent him into the first real glimpse of an old fumbling fool, "Oh god no! I- That wasn't- Shit wait y/n no I-"

"You-" the word bubbled in your throat all at once, "-kissed me."

His blue eyes grew huge and the setter looked down at the lips of your hardly touched beer can, "I- Wait listen ok I-"

"Again."

"What?"

"Kiss me again."

Tobio's eyes darted up from the cans. You were looking at him. The same way you did across the gym all those years ago. With such a conviction that his skin tingled with lively vibrance nothing in the world compared to. He could feel his hairs stand on end like they were saluting you. And he bit his lip once nervously expecting you to back down. When you didn't though. He knew he had to.

Slowed down from before. To take a moment to savor everything about it lost in the urgency of the first one. Tobio's lips met yours like they were old friends. Kiss as tender as you imagined. It wasn't until your hands were up cupping his face. And his fingertips grazed the skin of your cheek as he did the same. Did you really make the realization of the knot of nerves in your stomach loosening all at once.

"...I came back to see you." Tobio confessed against your lips. He found his words even though he reluctantly didn't want the kiss to end, "I couldn't focus and- I wasn't doing great at practice- Things were off I just couldn't-"

"We talk every day," You give that out like it's the same. You're a liar if anything. None of it was the same and none of it would be the same now they you had the buzz of his lips against yours, "I don't understand- We just-"

"I think I love you-" Tobio blurted.

No going back now.

Cheeks as red as the day you first kissed his knuckles after nationals. Tobio could only blink a few dozen times as it was hard enough to think of the right words when he was focused. Now his mind was leaving him at a million miles an hour and everything he'd rehearsed was for nothing in this very moment. All Tobio could think of was the hum of your lips against his. Comparing it to how he always imagined it would feel. And realizing now, it was so much better than that.

He swore he could see his reflection in your eyes. Quickly Tobio tried to recoup the plan he had made on the plane ride, "I just- Hold on ok- It's just- Ever since we were kids- I guess a long time- And being in Germany- It feels weird away- I love it but it doesn't feel completely right- I came back to see you and- I didn't mean it exactly like-"

"I love you too." The words swelled in your chest like a school girl. Here you were in your twenties confessing like a fool. Somehow it felt better than keep it all in these years. You find more to go along with just blurting that out like he did, "I mean- I think I've known for a while- A long while. This feeling, I don't know a lot of things I guess since I don't travel the world like you. Even when you were so far away I couldn't shake this-"

All over again and for only the third time in a lifetime. Tobio leaned in and kissed you. Practice making perfect with him like always. This time his hands found yours to squeeze them tight. Fingers wrapping around your palms with the warm of them taking over your hands.

Tobio was slow. He waited an entire plan ride plus almost a decade to do this. Through break downs or break throughs, your lips lit up more in him than anything your name in his contacts could ever do.

[nicolewoo]

The Cabin

Pairing: Joe Anaoi X Reader (Roman Reigns X Reader)

Summary: A couple of days away for our busy duo.

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Category: FLUFF!!!

Joe’s POV

“How can I help you?” The woman on the phone was way too perky. “I need to reserve a cabin for Tuesday and Wednesday. It has to be a cabin with a fireplace. That’s the most important thing.” I stressed the fireplace. “Certainly, sir.” I could hear her typing as we talked. After a second, she stopped. “Good news, sir. We have 3 available. How many bedrooms will you need?”

I’d been so focused on the fireplace and the KP Index, her question caught me off guard. “Whichever has the biggest fireplace.” I answered.

“Yes, sir. Our largest fireplace is in our 3-bedroom cottage.” She warned.

“Do you need the cottage on those days?” I prodded.

“No sir. They are at your disposal.”

“Is it possible to get some extra pillows and blankets so we can lounge in front of the fireplace?” I quickly added “and chilled champagne?”

“Is this a special night, sir?”

I smiled to myself thinking of it. “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

“If you’d like sir, we can have the fire already going and the blankets and pillows laid out in front of it when you arrive.”

“That will be perfect.” I agreed.

“If I can make a suggestion, we have a s’mores making kit we can leave for you too. It’s a surprisingly romantic addition.”

S’mores? I hadn’t had s’mores in years, but my mind flashed with the visual of cooking the marshmallows for her and feeding her the gooey treat. Yes. That would be romantic. Normally we didn’t eat junk, but we could make an exception one night. “Yes.” I said enthusiastically. “That sounds perfect... and some fresh fruit, no melon please.” Y/N hated melons.

______________________________________________________________

I’d told Y/N that I needed to get away for a couple of days, but truthfully, I knew she needed a break as much as me. Our schedules were non-stop, and when we did get days off, they were often spent doing laundry, shopping and catching up with friends and family. The result is that neither of us had a true break in months, so Tuesday morning, we jetted off to Colorado.

As I had hoped, everything was covered in inches of glistening snow. Terrible for driving: perfect for staying in a cabin. Walking into the cabin, I saw that the hotel staff had gone out of their way to make our visit special. An air mattress had been set in front of the roaring fireplace topped with festive red plaid blankets and pillows. Candles scattered the room, and champagne sat chilling in an ice bucket as well as a bowl of fruits and the s’mores making kit the desk clerk had suggested.

As Y/N freshened up, I checked to be sure all the groceries I’d ordered had been delivered. Lots of chicken, fish, turkey as well as a giant steak for tonight’s dinner.

I grabbed a couple of cold waters out of the fridge and went to find Y/N. She was already sitting on the hearth of the fireplace warming up from the outside cold. The cabin was perfect.... wood everywhere, overstuffed leather furniture and warm lamps adding to the comfortable feel.

I watched a minute as she adjusted the logs in the fireplace, turning the small fire into a roaring blaze. “You’re good at that.” I smiled at her as I leaned on the door frame between the kitchen and the living room. “Girl Scout?” I asked.

I caught the quick look of dread that crossed her eyes whenever she thought of her childhood. “No.” She answered abruptly, and I knew to let the subject go.

“Well,” I walked to her, setting the waters down next to the champagne along the way. “I see my beautiful baby girl knows how to tend the fire. We won’t freeze to death.” I teased trying to quickly get her mind off her childhood. “Got room for me over there?” I sat next to her, wrapping an arm around her, and looking around the cabin as she leaned her head against my shoulder.

I would have been content to stay there for hours, but she’d tended the fire so well, it felt like my back was on fire. “Shit! That got hot fast! You really know what you’re doing.” I grabbed her hand, gliding it up to my lips for a kiss before pulling her down to the air mattress with me.

I pulled her into my lap and wrapped my arms around her.” Did I do ok?” I asked as we both stared into the fire.

“This is perfect.” She sighed as I wrapped a blanket around us. We sat quietly like that for a while, staring at the flames. She turned to kiss my cheek, and I smiled.

——————————————————————

Yes, we both needed rest, but I had booked this resort for a reason, and as a text came in from the front desk, I knew it was time to surprise Y/N.

“I have another surprise for you.” I smiled down at her. The firelight cast soft shadows on her face as she looked bright eyed at me.

“You do?” She asked.

I stood, giving her my hand to pull her up. “Let’s get bundled up.” A questioning look crossed her face, but as I grabbed our coats out of the closet, she was quick to put hers on. As planned, I found the 2 pairs of warm ski pants I’d asked the booking agent about as well as hats, scarfs and boots.

Her zipper stuck as she tried to put the pants on, and we busted out laughing at her trying to pull the stubborn metal up. “Here. Let me,” I said as I knelt next to her.

“I guess we’re going outside?” she asked.

I wasn’t going to spoil the surprise, so I just said “Yup,” as I led her to the front door. “Stay here.” I said as I left and quickly returned with a snowmobile that had been hidden on the side of the house. “Come on.” I yelled over the sound of the engine as I took her hand and pulled her on the snowmobile in front of me. “Comfy?” I laughed.

“A little cold.” She teased.

“It will be worth it.” I teased as I started the trek away from the cabin and the resort, away from lights and sounds.... away from everything.

She practically curled into a ball against my chest as I slowly slid our way around the hills and trees for a few minutes. Much faster than I expected, we came to the ridge the hotel booking agent suggested. Below us, everything shone as the moonlight reflected off the snow. Giant pine trees loaded with white pillows of snow towered over the valley below us. It was perfect, well, it would be in a few minutes. Climbing off the vehicle, I checked the storage and found a sleeping bag tucked inside. I couldn’t believe how well this had all come together. I’d have to thank the resort for taking such good care of us.

As Y/N was standing in awe of the view, the very first hint of my surprise caught my eye. I came up behind her, unfolding the sleeping bag and wrapping it around both of us. “Beautiful view, isn’t it?” I almost whispered in her ear.

“Absolutely.” She leaned her head into my shoulder, and I turned us until we were facing away from the view and waited.

The wind was miserably cold, and I was even more appreciative that the resort had gotten us the warm clothes and the sleeping bag.

Just seconds later, the sky began to light up, and a translucent band of green light started to form. She gasped loudly. “OH MY GOD!” In the entire time I’d known Y/N, she’d never taken God’s name in vain, but she did now as she realized my plan. “OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! YOU BROUGHT ME TO SEE THE AURORA BOREALIS????”

She tore her eyes away from the sky long enough to look admiringly up at me. “Happy?” I asked her.

She shook her head in disbelief as the ribbon of green spread across the sky and over the valley in front of us. “I’ve never been happier,” she said as she kissed me.

@mindofasagitarius   @lclb13 @serenityfiretrash @lustyromantic @reigns-5sos @bigpsychicbagelauthor @omg-im-such-a-masochist

[redqueen-hypothesis]

private getaway ➳ victor li (mlqc)

➳ PAIRING: reader x victor li (mlqc)

➳ WORD COUNT: 3665

➳ GENRE: slightly suggestive, fluff

➳ SYNOPSIS: victor abducts you in the name of a holiday and is more nostalgic than you’d expect.

➳ REMARKS: tbh i feel like this was badly written, no smut but we all know victor li wouldn’t just let time alone together go by without doing the dirty. i hope the fluff is enough to make up for it, nonny!! i’m also sorry if you wanted a headcanon and i ended up writing a fic instead. i forgot i can’t write fluff akdjfsdk.

“Are we there yet?”

“No, but we’re almost there.”

That conversation has been repeated for hours now, ever since Victor whisked you away (more like abducted) you from the main entrance of your company building after a long working week and announced that the two of you would be going on a short holiday. Much to your shock, Anna had simply smiled politely at Victor as he bundled you into his car, wishing the two of you an enjoyable vacation and assuring you that your work would be taken care of. It was only later that you discovered that Anna had been roped into Victor’s schemes from the very beginning - the betrayal!

“You’ve said that for a while now.” You mumble, clutching onto Victor’s hand tightly as he leads you down a windy pier. You’re blindfolded with one of your silk scarves, Victor has been careful in ensuring that you haven’t been able to find out the slightest clue about where the two of you are headed. “Are you sure you’re not trying to kidnap me?”

A small snort. “How much money would I earn from doing that? Not enough to make the attempt worth it, I would say.” Victor’s voice is warm and deep, and when you strain your ears just a little, you can hear the sound of waves washing over a beach. Somewhere near the sea, perhaps?

“I’m priceless.” You answer indignantly, pulling at his hand and nearly stumbling when you trip over Victor’s feet. Wood creaks beneath your feet with each step. “I would be worth a lot of money.”

“But I’m the one who’d have to pay if you did get kidnapped.” Victor retorts, and you almost tell Victor he’s actually being romantic... almost. Before the words escape you, however, Victor is suddenly pulling the blindfold off your eyes. “We’re here now.”

When Victor had mentioned that he would be bringing you on a short holiday, you hadn’t expected this.

“Victor, this is... this is amazing!” You gasp, looking over at the view before you. The white sand of the beach runs into crystal clear water that stretches on as far as your eye can see. Connected directly to that strip of untouched beach is he open air villa that the two of you are currently standing in, watching the waves lap gently at the shore. “We’re going to be staying here?”

“No, we’re just passing through - of course we’re staying here, idiot.” Victor answers bluntly from where he’s inspecting the kitchen. It’s luxurious and fully stocked with fresh tropical ingredients, some of which are colorful fruits you’ve never seen before. You hope this means Victor is going to be the one cooking for you. “This place is a holiday beach resort.”

You can’t wait to change into some more comfortable clothes and go splashing in the sea. There’s a small jacuzzi pool carved from shining blue stone attached to the villa that you’re dying to try, but right now the blue of the ocean is much more enticing. It’s been so long since you’ve last seen the ocean for non work related reasons, you think. “This really is the perfect holiday location! And here I thought you didn’t understand the meaning of the word ‘vacation’.”

“My vocabulary is sufficient, thank you very much.” Victor sounds mildly amused as he steps up next to you, one hand shading his eyes from the orange light of the sunset. “I take that you like it?”

“Like it? I love it!” You laugh excitedly, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tight. Victor lets himself smile at your enthusiasm, if only a little. “It’s a beautiful place, really! Why isn’t it more popular? I don’t see anyone around.”

He turns to look at you with an amused expression, as if the answer is the most obvious thing in the world. “This is a private resort, dummy. Of course there’s no one else here.”

“Private resort?” Just how much money had Victor spent on this so called small holiday? The sounds of dollar bills flying away echo repeatedly in the back of your mind and you almost feel dizzy just trying to imagine how much this must have cost. “Victor, call an ambulance.”

“There aren’t any roads here, dummy, we’re on an island that’s untouched except for this building and the staff quarters nearby. I thought you should have been able to see that.” Victor looks at you like you’re the silly one. “The resort uses private helicopters in case of emergencies. Why, are you feeling unwell?”

“I just might faint under the weight of all this extravagance.” You mumble, but wrap your arms around Victor’s torso and stand on tip toes to kiss him on the cheek. He shivers ever so slightly in your hold. “Thanks, Victor. I appreciate it.”

“You should.” Victor mutters, but there’s no real bite behind it. “Let’s go see the sunset down by the water. I heard it’s a good view.”

>>>

You’ve missed the feeling of having sand between your toes and splashing about in the shallow water near the shore. Swimming pools have nothing on mother nature, you decide, picking up a seashell and admiring its silvery shine.

“Don’t you think it looks like a small fish?” You ask, holding it up for Victor to inspect when he stops next to you, bare feet in the water. He peers at the shell in your hand, looking like a debtor trying to discern the validity of some assets.

“It looks like a shell.”

“You have no creativity. Some things don’t need to be expensive to be pretty.” You huff, pressing the seashell into his hand anyway. His fingers wrap around it, holding it tightly in his palm. He’s about to open his mouth to reply when you tug excitedly at his hand. “Victor, look! The sun is huge!”

Your eyes are wide with wonder as the setting sun touch the horizon. Liquid orange ripples across the water’s surface, setting the sea alight with flames and washing it in a warm glow, until you can’t tell where the sea meets the sky. The corners of his mouth pull up at your tangible happiness, he’d let you see a thousand sunsets more beautiful just to see you smile like this again. “The sun is always the same size, dummy.”

“Yeah, but it looks big now.” You retort, fishing out the camera that you’re wearing on a strap around your neck. “I need to take a picture and upload it on Moments. Gosh, Lucien would definitely love to see something like this.”

The expression Victor eyes you with almost makes you laugh. “The shady scientist?” If you didn’t know him better, you’d think he’s angry, but you know he’s just sulking. You giggle, a little amused at his obvious dislike for the other man, and decide to tease him just a little.

“Hey, don’t call my friend shady! He’s a very renowned neuroscientist and an important consultant for Miracle Finder.” You correct, taking a few snapshots of the sky before you. You’re no photographer, but you know enough from your experience in filming to take a good photo. “Ahh, the pictures look great. Victor, it’s your turn!”

“My turn? What for?” Victor looks mildly confused, but you tug him to the end of the walkway by the hand. There, the sunset glow washes over his face, the soft light diffusing the sharpness in his eyes, the usual cold set of his jaw. “There, just right! Now, smile!”

“Wha-”

Click!

“God, Victor, I said to smile, not look like I handed up a late report.” You laugh, peering at the bummed out expression that you’ve captured with your camera. Victor looks just a little flustered when you raise the camera to him again. “Come on, smile for real this time!”

“I don’t just smile for pictures.”

“But you look handsome when you do.” You tease, and see Victor’s face soften in response to your words. It’s not quite a smile, but it looks warm, almost happy. “Don’t say stupid things.”

Just before you can take the picture, however, there’s a loud flapping sound and you flinch back in surprise at the flurry of wings. When your eyes blink open, you’re greeted with a totally unexpected sight.

A seagull is perched on top of Victor’s head, squawking loudly. Meanwhile, Victor looks like he’s frozen himself in time with his own Evol, lips firmly pressed together in a thin line.

The seagull peers down at him. Victor looks up to meet its eyes. It squawks again and Victor winces.

“Wow, Victor, I didn’t know you brought me here just to introduce me to your mistress.” You can barely keep the giggles out of your voice. The glare that Victor shoots you is positively deadly. “Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not.” You say, but your voice shakes. “You know, I can see why it took such a liking to you. The two of you are very much alike.”

Victor looks bewildered. “What? How am I similar,” he gestures at the bird nesting on his head, “to this thing?”

You only pause for dramatic effect. “You’re both known for shitting on people.”

Victor groans in exasperation at your grin. “I do not shit on people.”

Unable to resist, you turn the camera to him, hands almost shaking uncontrollably with suppressed laughter. Victor’s expression goes flat when he realises what you’re intending to do. “Don’t you dare-”

Click!

“That’s it, get back here.” Victor brushes the seagull off his head and bears down on you, while you shriek with laughter and dash back down the beach as fast as you can. Try as you might, however, Victor’s strides are far wider than yours and in no time at all he’s caught up to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and lifting you clean off your feet.

“Delete that.” He demands, trying to reach for your camera, but you hold it over your head with both hands, still giggling breathlessly. “No! Do you know how much the paparazzi would pay for a picture like this? I can imagine it on the front pages of the newspapers already, ‘Victor Li finds true soulmate at last’!”

“If they’re smart, they wouldn’t. The LFG has shares in majority of the news outlets in Loveland.” Victor retorts as you wave the camera about. “And so should you, since your company is funded by the LFG as well.”

“You’re too fair to drop us over something like this.” You laugh breathlessly at Victor, who simply sighs. “Don’t think that praising me now is going to get you a bonus. Hand over the camera now, before I make you.”

You arch an eyebrow, still giddy with adrenaline and excitement. You haven’t laughed this much in a long time. “Oh yeah? How are you going to do that?”

“How am I going to do that?” Victor repeats after you, voice suddenly dropping to a husky whisper. You swallow at the near predatory look that flashes in his eyes, hesitating for a moment. “Uhh, I mean you could just ask nicely, and if I were feeling generous, I might give it to-”

Before you can so much as finish your sentence, he’s pulling your head down to meet his lips in a hungry kiss. Your eyes fly wide open with shock before you melt against his mouth, camera long forgotten. His teeth tug at your bottom lip, urging his tongue into your mouth and fingers stroking at the bare skin along your ribs. Gasping at the searing heat of him, you try to break away for air, but Victor’s fingers only slide up the back of your head to press you more firmly against him, unrelenting.

All consuming.

It’s only when you beat against his chest with your fist that he releases you, your lungs heaving for air and mouth drunk on the taste of him. “Just like that,” Victor murmurs, his voice a raspy baritone as he plucks your camera out of your boneless hands. You can’t even find it in you to argue, all the fight sapped out of you. “I’ve missed doing that.”

“What are you-” You gasp as Victor lowers the two of you to the ground. Your back is pressed against the sand of the beach, waves lapping at your feet, but before you can say another word Victor’s mouth is back on yours again, hot and wet and desperate, like he can’t wait another second to taste you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, drawing him as close as you physically can, the hard planes of his body pressed against yours through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Mmn...” You breathe against his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist, grinding subtly against the hardness in his shorts. Victor lets out a low sound at that, eyes filled with an emotion that you can only describe as hunger as he hovers over you. Just as he tilts his head down to press kisses down your neck, however, you’re interrupted by a strange grumbling sound.

The two of you still at the sudden noise, and your cheeks burst into flames.

“Pft...” You look up to see Victor trying to stifle his own laughter and scowl, slapping both your hands over his mouth. “Hey! Stop laughing!”

“Let’s head in for some food. I have some new recipes I want to try.” Victor is still wearing a smile and damn, because you won’t even get enough of that expression on him. It softens his face, brings out a gentle light to his eyes that is far too rarely seen, and makes your heart stumble in your chest. Still blushing, you grab his hand and pull him towards the villa so he won’t see the colour on your cheeks.

“Hurry up then, I’m hungry.”

He laughs, a clear, boyish sound that doesn’t suit his business persona at all. “I could tell.”

“Oh, shut it!”

>>>

Dinner is a lavish affair of delectable fruits and local spices that you’ve never tasted before. Victor does something along the lines of a hibachi restaurant, cooking right in front of you and serving the food fresh from the pan. It’s clear he’s been practicing in secret, there’s no hesitation to his movements even with all these foreign ingredients. Your heart warms at the knowledge but keep your mouth shut about it, knowing Victor would be embarrassed if you were to call him out on it.

Gods, you love this man so much.

As the sky falls dark, you sit at the kitchen island in the dim candlelight, washing down your dinner with a tropical fruit juice mix that Victor had blended for you while scrolling through a list of activities available to you here on your phone.

“You decide.” Victor had shrugged simply when you’d asked him about your itinerary. You couldn’t be more excited.

“We could go snorkeling tomorrow, oh, or fishing!” You tell Victor brightly as he washes the dishes at the sink. Hopefully in one of these options, he’ll just have to go shirtless, you hum to yourself contentedly. Best vacation ever. He turns around to raise an eyebrow at you, looking dubious. “I doubt you have enough patience to hold a fishing rod for a few hours.”

“I do too.” You pout, setting down your phone to watch him work. The simple white button down he’s wearing only accentuates the strong lines of his back and the broad shoulders he has. “And besides, it won’t take that long for the fish to bite unless you scare them all away with that glare of yours.”

“Maybe if we throw you in as bait we’d be more successful and catch a big white shark.” Victor flicks you on the nose and you whine, rubbing it ruefully as he keeps the pans on the shelves. “Fine... I’ll think about what to do when tomorrow comes. What do you want to do right now, though?”

Victor ponders this for a moment, leaning against the kitchen island next to you. “Hmm... you brought your bathing suit, am I right?”

“I didn’t know we were going to the beach, wait... this is why you were asking for my measurements awhile back, weren’t you?”

He shrugs, although there’s a playful glint in his eye. “You don’t have any evidence. Either way, there should be a bathing suit in your luggage. Put it on and we can go down to the jacuzzi. Or if you want,” the look in his eyes darken ever so slightly as he looks down at you, tracing your body, “you could always go naked. There’s no one to see... but me.”

“I’m going, I’m going!” You beat a hasty escape for the bathroom before your face can spontaneously combust. “You better not have bought something weird for me!”

As you disappear into the bathroom, Victor lets out a low laugh, running a hand over his face. “Ahh... that silly girl.”

There’s a fond smile on his face.

>>>

You sink into the water with a contented moan. “Ahhh, this feels good.” When you look above, head tilting back to look at the night sky above. The stars twinkle back at you, like handfuls of diamonds scattered across the heavens above. “This has been a great start to my holiday.”

“It takes very little to make you happy.” Victor observes as he steps into the water next to you. He’s dressed in nothing but a pair of black shorts, strong arms and well honed physique exposed for you to appreciate. You grin, lacing your fingers with his and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “I think I’ve already been given plenty. Thank you for this holiday, Victor.”

“It was nothing, really.” Victor replies, his voice a low rumble in his chest next to you. When you glance up at him, he’s looking at the stars overhead, seemingly lost in thought. “I don’t really enjoy holidays much, except when I visit France, but today with you... wasn’t so bad.”

Victor must be in a nostalgic mood, you think, enjoying the warmth of his body next to yours. The holiday brings that out in him, the fact that there are no paparazzi around and there is no LFG to worry about. You like having him all to yourself.

“Just admit that you like my company.” You laugh, resting your head against his shoulder. The water is pleasantly warm and scented with rose petals, something that you’ve come to realise is his signature touch during your time together. As unromantic as Victor’s mouth is when it isn’t on your body, the rest of him is surprisingly adept and careful when it comes to setting a romantic mood, sparing no expense when it comes to bouquets, scented candles, silk sheets. It’s something that you would never have quite expected from him, and yet it’s part of what makes him so lovably humane.

“Well, I think the fact that I married you says quite enough about that.” Victor snorts. You feel him run a thumb over the wedding band on your ring finger and you grin, lifting it out of the water so that he can see it. “I’m so glad I didn’t swallow it together with your proposal souffle. I might have backed out of marrying you if I had more time to think about it.”

“You must have been in shock when you agreed.” He looks at your joined hands, and suddenly lifts it to his mouth to kiss away the water droplets clinging onto the back of yours possessively. The two of you are already married, and yet it still sends heat burning at your cheeks. “You’re stuck with me now, though. You can’t just break a marriage contract.”

“You mean a wedding vow. You were so handsome on that day I must have forgotten my plan about running away from the altar.” You giggle, and Victor’s eyes soften, scooping up a flower from the water’s surface - a peony, and tucks it behind your ear. “I would have chased after you even if you did.” His eyes sweep over you, painfully tender. “There. Beautiful.”

It’s only then that you realise how close the two of you are, his breath dancing along your cheeks and nose, his cheeks flushed from the warmth of the jacuzzi. He looks so open in that moment, his usual stoic walls down for you to enter and so you do, cupping his face and pulling him in for a kiss.

Victor’s a possessive lover, always has been, and the way he takes your lips for his own is no different. He doesn’t just claim them, he ruins them, tasting your mouth like you’re one of his sweetest deserts, tongue probing every corner and crevice of your mouth so that you know that you belong to him. You sink into his embrace, water swishing around you, and Victor groans, lightly nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“I’m the most fortunate man in the world to have met you.” He says, hoisting you into his lap. In the pool, it takes almost no effort at all, and you’re left straddling his rock hard thighs, bracing your palms on his firm chest. His gaze lands on your bruised, swollen lips, running the pad of his thumb over it gently. “Beautiful.”

“Stop saying cheesy stuff and make love to me.” You laugh, grinding down teasingly on the hardness you can feel against your thigh and your grin widens when Victor lets out a hiss. He pinches your ass in retaliation and you squeal. “Here I was trying to set the mood and you went and ruined it. You had better be prepared for what you’re getting into.”

When he kisses you under the heavens once more, so fiercely it steals your breath away, one last thought crosses your mind before he takes even that away from you: that everything to do with him, you regret none of it at all.

[jojo-reader-hell]

Hello Bad Children it is I, Koro, with more 5am angst. Melone x Reader: The Outside

(Writing this was like waking up from a nightmare about my partner cheating and then being mad at him all day for something he did in a dream, and I chose this picture because I’m finna slap the shit out of Melone after this.)

Melone reasoned that his date wouldn’t mind if he was a couple minutes late.

Everything was perfectly set into place. The night was young, balmy, perfect for cuddling close to his special someone. The restaurant was close enough that he could see the flower shop where you worked very clearly from the window. At the table he’d reserved, he knew exactly which way to tilt the chair he sat in so that he could keep an eye on your form at all times, and intended to sneak glances at you throughout the night so he could gloat at the fact that his life was still perfect, and yours was as miserable as he hoped for. It wouldn’t hurt to keep his new flame waiting a little while. She might even be touched, he thought as he strolled boldly into the shop and heard the tinkling of the bell, if he walked in like a prince with a beautiful spray of your favorite flowers to give her. It had to be all of the ones that were your favorites, the same make of bouquet he’d ordered nearly every week to keep you happy. He had to make a statement. Otherwise how else would you know he was doing well?

You had been many things. Faithful. Honest. Receptive. It had only taken you a matter of days, maybe even hours, to accept that Melone was your one true love even though you didn’t know it at first. Months of careful planning and building of your love nest paid off, and it was quite painfully obvious that you enjoyed these passed few years being his kept woman, as he put it lightly. You were a good girl, so obedient, doing whatever he asked without question and even with a smile towards the end when he began losing interest. Unfortunately you were also stubborn, hence why Melone had let the punishment go on for too long.

Truth be told he thought he’d been rather generous that last day. He felt he had to, it was at least fair he treat you kindly in your last day captive in the home he bought for you. It made up for the languid looks up other women’s skirts, the audacity of ogling endless trains of rear ends, ankles and breasts, entering chat rooms to look at bare pictures and post them until one day someone replied back at him just as intensely as he commented. It was only fair he give you one days break from domestic duties. Usually you did the cooking and the cleaning, rising early before the sun came up to make your “husband” something to eat, but he’d decided to surprise you that morning. Let it be known in the records that Melone could cook quite the sumptuous feast for breakfast, and he made sure the omelette came out nice and fluffy, and that the pancakes stayed warm by keeping the syrup on the side, or that the bacon was crisp and the fruit without blemish. Even the orange juice was good, squeezed fresh with a hint of Prosecco, and the coffee was pour over, Melone taking great pains to get the coffee grounds just so that the flavor exploded in your mouth even with the addition of cream and sugar. You were quite surprised when he’d brought it all to you on a tray in bed that you didn’t even register the indifference he had, not bothering to feed you like he usually would and just letting you savor everything until you were full.

“Was it good?” He asked, your name a trill and a light note to begin on.

And then he smiled a saccharine toothy grin as you agreed, praising him and thanking him for spoiling you.

“Good. Because it’s the last meal you’re ever going to have in this house. I want you out before the sun sets.”

“Good evening! I’d like a bouquet please.”

The cashier smiled at him, asked what he liked and set to work filling the order. Melone was almost disappointed that he didn’t call you to the front to work on it yourself, but he didn’t let it show and only met the other man with a smile. This person was one of your coworkers, blissfully unaware that the man before him was the monster that had ripped you from your happy home and completely brainwashed you into making one with him, having only torn you away from it five months ago. It had been hilariously funny to Melone, seeing you trying to reintegrate into society like a helpless idiot. Your coworkers treated you like a simpleton, your paycheck merely a grudging kindness they didn’t have the courage to put an end to. He saw you by chance on the street after the third month of your break up, and you’d been more of a mess than the first night he held you captive. You were fearful of everything around you, comically wide eyed and avoided nearly every attempt at human interaction. Your hair was unkempt, your clothes wrinkled, dark circles under your eyes and you looked as though you hadn’t eaten properly since that last breakfast. Melone had to stifle the laughter in his throat, a sick sense of pleasure filling his tummy as he followed you just out of sight that day. You looked everywhere, wandering in circles around the streets before eventually finding your way into the flower shop where you worked before he met you. Sometimes he checked on you, content to see you miserable as ever working for less than minimum wage, but never once did he bother to see where you were living now.

Probably in a cardboard box in the alley for all I care... he’d thought with a wicked smile.

Those first three months after Melone had quite literally booted you out onto the street were bliss, everything was quiet around the house, he had endless evenings talking to his new flame and hearing her lilting voice comment hotly on all the things she’d do to him once she came abroad. She wasn’t even from Italy, just someone he met online before he broke up with you, telling him she knew how these things worked out and she’d give him time to admire her from afar until he was completely over it. Even though he kept insisting at the begging and whining for her affection, he waited patiently for the fateful phone call that came five months later: she was ready to come to him at last.

He scrambled at the last minute to get the house perfect, rearranging furniture, thankful that your things had long since been thrown out. Even the Junior you’d produced with his Stand had been eliminated a month prior to his date. It used to infuriate him, seeing it look at the frosted glass of the front door as though it was looking for traces of you still clawing desperately, screaming to be let in. God help him, the Junior even pined for you, wondering why Melone wouldn’t just let you come back to live with them and destroying things when he tried to insist that a new mommy would come to take your place. The Junior had thrown a fit before the computerized Baby Face had taken action, and your Junior’s death had been a sick sort of closure for the assassin.

“Don’t open that door.” Melone had told your Junior during the breakup, in more of a giddy coo than the anger he felt hearing you crying for him to please let you back inside.

“... Mommy is out there.” Your Junior had told him, as if he’d missed it. “She’s crying. She’s cold. Why can’t I let her in?”

The sneer he gave your Junior must have set the seeds of rebellion into growth, because he still remembered the look of frustration it gave him.

“She’s not your mommy, she’s what’s called a ‘problem’. And do you know what we do with problems?”

“... no?”

“We work through them. Chase her away, make her afraid to go near that goddamn door. I don’t want her setting foot in this neighborhood ever again.”

Melone was snapped out of his thoughts of the past as the cashier happily handed over the aforementioned bouquet, wishing him a good night and shocking the assassin with the abruptness. He found himself so shocked he left without trying at least to drag the conversation on in the hopes that you’d hear his voice and come running.

This wouldn’t do... he thought, bringing him to his current predicament of waiting out of sight behind the dumpster of the restaurant. This wouldn’t do at all...

Melone knew what he wanted. He wanted to approach you when you left for work. He wanted to make himself known. He wanted pain. He wanted a scene. He wanted your tears and screaming and crying, craved it like a shot of liquid courage to steel his nerves for his proper first date. He didn’t feel these butterflies when he met you, only felt a sense of calm, and he needed some of that to quell the anxieties he felt. You were good for some things after all, he begrudgingly decided. And what better way for a bookended closure than to use you for a last dose of peace before he began what would most certainly be a romantic beginning to living a brand new happy life with the beautiful woman he’d courted for so long.

“Have a good evening sweetie. Do you need any help with those presents?”

He heard the telltale tentative steps of your footfall before he saw you, and he snapped his head up to see your coworker loading you up with a large cardboard box, helping you adjust to the weight of it as you both exited the shop. You were bundled up in an old puffy coat, clearly a donation, your hair pulled back into a bun and combed for once.

You shook your head, avoiding speaking directly and opting to look at the box in your hands instead of his eyes.

“Are you ok to walk home?”

Silence. A nod in the affirmative.

“You’ll let me know if you need anything?”

Affirmative silence.

There wasn’t anything else left to say. The first look Melone got up close was already disappointing and not boding well for his date. If he didn’t do something now, you would already be out of sight and long gone before he had a chance to use you one last time. Already you were backing away, not even bothering to thank your friend nor even wanting to bid him goodnight as that familiar lost look settled over your face. Melone cursed at the stupidity of your coworker, unable to follow you as long as he stood there watching you go. How hard was it to just cut the cord? He wondered, and finally cursing in an exhale of breath when your coworker returned to his place in the shop, allowing Melone to emerge from his hiding place to follow your journey home.

His date wouldn’t mind if he was a few minutes late, he reasoned. Your house couldn’t be that far, and he had flowers. It would be so nice to get your hopes up and then crash them down, it would make his pining for his true love all the more sweeter.

You walked slowly. Seeing without seeing. Hearing without hearing anything as you made the long journey home laden with your large box. There was a slight limp in your step when you walked, and Melone knew with a sickening satisfactory smile that it was courtesy of your own Junior taking the setting foot part literally. He walked a few car lengths behind you. Quiet as a mouse, even with the noise of the flowers wrapped in cellophane. But then again with how out of it you seemed Melone could have been accompanied by a goddamn marching band and you wouldn’t have noticed anything.

After a few minutes he began to get antsy. What the hell... how far away did you live from work? Were you just leading him in your typical circles, looking around for something like a helpless puppy that lost its mother? He didn’t know what you could be looking for, stupid and blind as he’d become by love he couldn’t figure out why you kept stopping, looking everywhere but behind you, then continuing onward painfully slow as though you had no regard for his commitments.

Melone needed no reminder of why he decided to leave.

Finally, when he was sure he should just nut up and turn back without his dose of courage, he saw you arrive at a slum of an apartment complex. Of course you’d be living here, you couldn’t afford house payments on what they paid you at your old job. Couldn’t afford the luxury of the house he bought for you. Not without Passione’s money. It amused him. When left to your own devices you couldn’t even provide a basic pedestrian life. You lived like a dog if left alone.

He formulated a plan. First he’d call out your name sweetly, like he used to, then when you turned around he’d hold the flowers in his hands in such a way that you’d think it was in offering. You would cry, he was sure, and just as you ran to him and reached for the flowers he’d pull them away and duck just out of reach. If he timed it right, and his foot flashed out at just the right time, he’d be able to see you fall and hear you scream out for him as he walked away and back to the restaurant. It was foolproof, and he began to open his mouth.

You turned to one of the ground floor doors, merely turned the door knob, and entered the unlocked apartment that was bathed in darkness.

There was one window in the living space, and when the light turned on it flooded the dark street. You didn’t even have curtains, just had one window facing the street and that was all. On the floor of the apartment was a dingy mattress, shoved in the corner, a thin sheet bunched up on the floor. There weren’t any decorations. No pictures on the walls. No chairs or table. Not even a plant from work. You still had the box in your arms as you stood in the middle of the bare room, looking around, as though you were unsure you’d entered the right place. Melone just watched, unreadable, as you finally set the box down and began to unload its contents.

A package of diapers. Two bottles. A soft blanket. A teddy bear. Some powdered formula. You both stared at them for a long, long time. He only saw the tiny cradle by the mattress when you unzipped your coat, because the bulge under your shirt had grazed it slightly as you bent to lay the teddy bear inside of it. You didn’t react at all. Just sat down at the edge of your mattress and looked at the things your coworker had given you. A hand, from this distance Melone could see how rough and chapped it was, rubbed the bulge of your stomach as you quietly contemplated the things before you.

“Oh...” he whispered.

It was now he realized: you hadn’t even locked the front door.

Oh.

You reached for your jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders. It was too puffy for him to have seen.

Oh no.

You always worked with your back to the door. The plants covered your lower body, you weren’t tall enough for any part other than your head to stick out.

Oh no...

You didn’t move to make anything to eat. You just sat there.

Unblinking.

Lost.

“Oh no...” Melone choked.

The flowers were beautiful, petals scattered all over the street as they dropped from his hands.

What had he done... What had he done?

...

You’d be a liar if you said you didn’t leave the door unlocked at night for the last five months with just the slightest bit of hope.

You lived life purely with hopes riding on being rescued. Taken away from this pain. You wanted to be taken up in thin strong arms, coddled and protected, reassured with that soft voice that everything would be ok.

Days turned into nights, thence into weeks, thence into months, thence into eternity.

He never came.

Did you start losing hope? Yes. The items before you proved that. Everything was real. It wasn’t a dream. Life was going on without you, he was going on without you, everything was constantly spinning and spiraling out of control and you were left helpless in the middle of all of it, your own body betraying you and refusing to wait to let you catch up.

What did you do to deserve this?

Whatever you did... you wouldn’t do it again. Never. Never ever would you act out of line if if meant you’d be cast out like yesterday’s garbage.

The world goes on without you, and leaves you behind. You can’t hear anything. Can’t feel the gurgle of your stomach or the kicks demanding a meal. There isn’t anything tonight. You don’t have enough for meat, all that’s in the fridge is milk that went bad yesterday and the last slice of bread. Besides you can’t find the strength to get up and feed yourself. You’re not used to having no direction in which to turn.

Your stomach growls, but you’re not hungry.

You live life hearing nothing.

Seeing nothing.

Hardly able to process what’s happening around you.

The door opens and slams against the wall but you don’t hear it.

Footsteps hurry toward you, but you can’t feel their slams against the floor.

Someone drags you up by the arms off the mattress, but it doesn’t matter anymore. You stopped feeling when he broke your foot, never got it treated properly, the pain doesn’t register.

The only reaction you have is to the voice that calls out to you, begging, pleading, just like you did all those months before.

“Please...! Please! Forgive me. Amore please!”

You look up. Wide eyed. Heart aching.

“... Melone?”

It all hits you at once, the senses return, and he has to catch you to prevent you from falling headlong into it.

[hockeytrashgoblin]

Just one date? ~Part 7

A/N: YALL. I CANNOT EVEN EXPLAIN THE HASSLE OF GETTING THIS INTERNET SET UP AND ITS NOT EVEN SET UP RIGHT FOR FUCK SAKES. but here’s another part. very smutty. im not sorry even a little. also the Mitch fic is like 30 thousand words so that will be split into parts as well so look out for that.

It had been a couple weeks in the new place with Alex. We were having the time of our lives. I had never been happier before in my life. Emily still hadn’t apologized and I wasn’t going to first so I was kind of on the outs with the wags but I didn’t care too much. I’d never really fit in with them anyway so it wasn’t the end of the world. I’d moved seats though so I could cheer and be in the game without all the gossip. Alex liked it better because I was sitting behind his bench now instead of in a box where he couldn’t see me. He could see and celebrate with me now and I really like being that support for him so it worked out really well for us both.

We had a perfect schedule going so it was a pretty seamless transition. I worked weekdays from 6-3 so for the most part I was home when he was. He had morning practices and meetings so usually it worked out that I could be home and we could cook and eat dinner together which I loved. The house was pretty big and empty when he was away on road trips but it was good for us to get some alone time too. It was really perfect.

Todays was one of the rare weekends when he didn’t have to play so we had just been laying around cuddled up all morning. Right now, we were watching a nature documentary, something I picked to break up the hours of family guy. It was his favourite show but I could only handle so much of it at once. But the same went for Alex. He could only take so much of my documentaries before he was too bored to concentrate anymore. He liked to say it was because I was much smarter than him but that just wasn’t true, although I had stopped arguing him on it.

“Hey Alex?” I asked looking up at him.

“Uh oh.”

“What ‘uh oh’?”

“Oh come on (y/n). Anytime you look at me like that it’s an uh oh. What do you want to do that you think I won’t be on board with?”

“It’s not that I don’t think you’ll be on board, I just think I’ll need to convince you maybe.”

“Just tell me what it is cutie.” He said with a smile bringing his hands to rest on my hips.

“I want to make a garden.”

“Okay?”

“Alright I want to make a couple gardens.”

“How many?” he asked suspiciously.

“Well I mean there’s like two in the front and a big one in the back with no flowers or anything in them.”

“Okay that doesn’t sound too hard to fix.”

“I also want to build a whole new big garden for vegetables in the back corner of the yard.”

“There it is.” He yelled throwing his head back.

“Come on Alex please? I want to grow fresh vegetables.”

“Baby why? We can get all the fresh vegetables you want, organic, whatever.”

“Because I want to do it.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to.”

“But why?”

“Becaaaause I want to.”

“And you want to do all this on my only day off this week?”

“Well we don’t have to do all of it now. I’d really like to do the flowerbeds though. Come with me to the greenhouse? Please?”

“Fine but we’re only getting flowers.”

“Yes!”

“We’re only getting flowers.” He repeated as I dragged him up towards the door.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s go.”

“You sure are excited for a few plants.”

“Yes. I love plants.”

“Well if it’s going to make you so happy I’m glad we’re doing it.” He took my hand in his and gave it a kiss before starting the car. We drove in relative silence, just music playing in the background. When we finally got there, I bolted out of the car making Alex laugh. I got on a big cart and looked at Alex who just raised his eyebrow at me.

“Push me, you ween!”

“I’m pretty sure those are not meant for people.”

“Hey I’m not as heavy as big bags of dirt!”

“Oh my god fine. Let’s go.” He rolled his eyes with a big smile and started pushing me through the aisles in the store to get to the plants outside. I waved at a couple of the workers who knew me by name making Alex laugh.  “Someone has been in here one too many times.”

“I love it here. My friend Briana has brought me here a bunch of times. We love the plant!” I yelled throwing my arms out making him laugh. He leaned forward and kissed my forehead before turning to the seasonal flowers.

“Come on baby let’s find some flowers.”

It was taking longer than expected I kept getting distracted and I couldn’t really decide what I wanted. I felt really bad because I could tell Alex wasn’t having fun anymore. I eventually decided on a bunch of pretty things with a bunch of colours. I also picked out a couple lawn decorations and by the end of it Alex was in a downright bad mood. We drove back in silence without the radio on and I was twitching and fiddling with my fingers nervously. I didn’t know why he was upset so I didn’t know how to fix it. Once we got to the house he just went inside without a word.

I decided to give him some space and started unloading the truck. It took a lot of trips but eventually I had carried everything from the front to the backyard. It had also taken a long time so I was hoping Alex had calmed down. Spoiler alert: he hadn’t. He was stomping around the kitchen when I walked in making all the cupboards rattle.

“Okay Alex what gives? I’m sorry alright?” I said getting his attention.

“Why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know! Obviously something at the greenhouse upset you and I don’t know what it is and so I’m just giving a blanket sorry.”

“God you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m not upset about going to the greenhouse. I’m just frustrated.”

“Why are you frustrated?”

“Babe, I’m frustrated.” He said putting emphasis on frustrated. I still didn’t get it and he could tell by my face. He rolled his eyes and started leaving the room. “Sex (y/n). I’m sexually frustrated. Happy?”

“God what a lil bitch.” I mumbled under my breath following him. “Alex stop walking away from me!” I yelled up the stairs.

“Just leave me alone.” He yelled back still walking away. I rolled my eyes and caught up to him quickly since there was nowhere to go up there.

“Can you stop? Why are you doing this?”

“Just go away.”

“No.” I said shoving him into the nearest wall. It shocked him into silence so that was nice. “Are you fucking done whining so I can fix your problem or what?”

“I’m not whining.”

“You’re literally throwing a fit because you want to fuck instead of just starting something. You could have just grabbed me or kissed me or something.” I was arguing but while I did I was taking his shirt off before moving to his pants. “Nah not you. Instead you just ignore me and stomp around the house like a fucking idiot.”

“I’m not throwing a fit and I’m not a fucking idiot.” He said harshly flipping us around so I was pushed against the wall. He started kissing my neck and unbuttoning my jeans. He shoved a hand inside them making me groan. “You’re the one who was too fucking busy today to notice me.”

“How do you figure that one?”

“When we woke up you just got up even though you felt me against you all hard and wanting. Then later on we were cuddling and I wanted to start something but you were too busy with your doc then you brought me all around, paraded me around your greenhouse friends hard. You never even noticed.” He growled rubbing himself on my thigh.

“You know I always want to fuck you should’ve said something.” I grumbled as he left more bites on my neck and shoulder. “You’re the one who told me I was being too much and too fucking cool it.”

“God damn babe I didn’t mean forever.” He pulled my shirt off me before slowly working my pants down and underwear down my legs. “I haven’t even seen your body in over a week.”

“You told me to-FUCK!” I yelled as his mouth made contact with the little bundle of nerves. “Told me to cool it-shit. I was waiting on you to ma-AH-make a move.”

“Is this enough of a fucking move?” he asked flicking his tongue on me making me yell. He lifted one of my legs on his shoulder. “Jump a little.”

“What?”

“Just do what I fucking say.” He gripped my hip hard and I did what he told me to. He had me completely stuck between him and the wall as he started fucking me with his tongue.

“Fuck Alex, fuck.” I grasped his hair hard as I enjoyed this new experience with my boy.

“Yeah? You fucking like that? Like my tongue fucking into you?”

“Yes.” I whined loudly.

“Now who’s whining like a little bitch.” He retorted biting my thigh hard making me yell.

“Alex, let me down. Lemme do something for you.”

“Not a fucking chance.” He chuckled before diving back in making me scream his name. He kept me pinned to the wall screaming and whining until I finished all over his face. Even then he didn’t stop, just kept going.

“Alex please. Sensitive.”

“I don’t fucking care. You’re going to cum again on my tongue. Like it or not. But I know you’ll like it. Isn’t that right baby?”

“Yes fuck, yeah.” I gasped out as he went back to work. Still being so sensitive it didn’t take much attention to have me falling over that edge again as he slowly worked his tongue in and out of me curling and wiggling it around.

“I’m going to let you down now okay?” I nodded and he let my feet fall. When they hit solid ground though they buckled and I ended up on the floor. “Fucking good one Bambi.”

“Shut the fuck up asshole.” I bit back as I tried to get up.

“No you stay there.”

“What Alex, come one let’s go to our room so I can take care of you.” I said feeling more than a little dazed still.

“No I’m going to take you apart right here on the hallway floor.”

“Ew Alex people walk here.”

“And now my baby is going to get fucked here. In a minute.” I groaned at that last part and he laughed. “You’re gonna take whatever I give you.”

“Then fucking give it to me Alex.”

“I will doll, don’t you worry I will.” He crawled up my body and took one of my nipples in his mouth. At the same time he started rubbing me fast and hard while he fingered me as well. He was sucking on my nipple so hard I was sure there was going to be a hickey covering the whole thing. All these sensations together where so overwhelming and I was still so sensitive from the first two times I came. It only took a minute for him to get me going again. At this point I was so sensitive that I was starting to have little ones almost constantly as he kept his hand movements up just shaking and screaming. I tried to bat his hand away but he pinned me down.

“You haven’t let me touch you in almost two weeks (y/n). Let me just enjoy your fucking body for a second.” Once he was happy with me being a blissed out floating mess he finally pulled his hand away. “Gonna fuck you now okay baby?”

“Mhm.” I nodded frantically. He pushed into me slowly and I whined pushing him away because of how sensitive I was feeling.

“Shh baby be good for me. It’ll feel good in a minute. Just relax okay?”

“Uh huh.” I nodded again and he pushed into me a little slower this time making me cum again. “Fuck Alex!”

“Baby you’re so sensitive, cumming on my cock already. How many is that now?”

“I dunno.” I mumbled.

“You don’t know?”

“Lost count. Too many.”

“Not enough.” He said picking up his pace making me whine again, making him chuckle. “You’re okay baby, I’ve got you.”

Between the sharp thrusts of his hips and the cold wooden floor sticking to my skin and his mouth all over me it didn’t take long before I came again. I saw spots that time and I couldn’t see. Couldn’t calm down at all. I hardly had any conscious thoughts left. They were all Alex. I felt like I wasn’t even in my own body anymore as I felt his hips pick up the pace in an erratic way that I knew somewhere in my mind that it meant he was close. He started touching me again and I finished for the last time just before he did. I heard him grunt and moan and then nothing.

I was in a floating sense of being. I couldn’t see or feel anything. I just felt good and I was floating. There was no other way to describe in. I had never felt better in my life, I could almost get lost in this nothingness. It was all just feeling good and quiet and calm finally after how worked up I had been. Alex had literally fucked me so hard I passed out and although I felt like I could pull through anytime I wanted, I didn’t want to yet. So I just stayed pleased and utterly blissed out in the quiet dark.

“(y/n)? Baby?” curse Alex for interrupting the quiet dark place. “Honey wake up, are you with me?” no. “God I’m so sorry.” I’m not. Do it again. Send me here every time. It was quiet again for a while but then I felt hands on me as well as Alex’s voice and the black quiet started to disappear. I tried to hold onto it but it slipped away and soon I was opening my eyes to Alex’s very worried face.

“Thank God.” He breathed hugging me and kissing my head. “Are you with me baby?”

“Mmm no.” he chuckled and that made me smile.

“I thought I fucking killed you or something.”

“Dick’s not that good.”

“Good enough to knock you the fuck out for an hour.”

“I was out for that long? It didn’t feel like it.” Everything was starting to become more clear around the edges. “Felt like I was only out for a couple minutes.”

“Yeah well you weren’t. Also if William or Ryan say anything to you about this I’m sorry.”

“Why the fuck did you tell them?”

“I didn’t know what to do! You were unconscious. I’ve never fucked someone into unconsciousness before. If you hadn’t woken up I didn’t know how to explain it to paramedics so I needed some advice. I was really worried about you. I didn’t think that was going to happen.”

“I didn’t think it was going to happen either. Oh well. If they say something they say something.”

“Are you passing out again?”

“No love, I’m tired. Come hold me. Also how did I get in bed?”

“I carried you over. I didn’t want you to get hurt laying on the floor.”

“You had no problem with it when you were fucking me into it.”

“Well I had a clear mind after and you were unconscious.”

“Whatever just come hold me.”

“Okay fine. Needy girl.” He said with a smile pulling me close to him. I hadn’t noticed that we were both dressed as well now. Well if you count underwear and t-shirts as dressed, that is.

“Are you good now? Done being so fucking cranky?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. You were right I should’ve just said something.”

“You should’ve. I didn’t want to push or make you feel like I wasn’t respecting what you wanted that’s why I hadn’t been touching you or doing anything.”

“Next time you completely burn me out from sex I’ll be sure to say something when I need it. But I don’t think that’s a problem we need to deal with right now.”

“No we do not.” It was silent for a bit while he held me but then I felt him smirk against my head.

“So you really liked being fucked by my tongue huh?”

“Aleeeex you’re ruining this soft peaceful moment.” I whined looking back at him. “But yes it was fucking hot. I enjoyed it a lot. Something incredible about you being strong enough to hold me up against the wall and watching your tongue disappear into me drove me crazy.”

“Keep talking like that and We’ll have to do it again right now.”

“Don’t you get a single fucking idea.” I said smacking his hand away from my butt.

“Oh I have a single fucking idea.”

“Well get it out of here. I can’t handle anymore right now. Probably not anymore today. I’m fucking fried. My brain, my body, everything. The world is still fucking blurry.”

“That’s what good dick will do to a person.”

“Fuck off you cocky bitch.” I said laughing at him and hitting his chest.

“I love you.”

“I love you too babe.”

“Yeah but like I really love you. So much.”

“So do I Alex. You’re so important to me and I care about you so much.”

“I just wanted to make sure you knew after how moody and angry I’ve been the past little while. I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea and think I was tired of this. I’m not. I want to be with you for so long (y/n). As long as possible.”

“Awe baby you’re so lovely. I want you too, as long as you’ll have me.”

“Let’s take a nap and then we can plant all those flowers you bought, how does that sound baby?”

“That sounds great, love.”

It took no time at all for me to fall asleep and apparently, I stayed like that for a while. Alex woke me up with a worried expression. I had been out for a couple hours and wanted to make sure I was alive still. I got changed into some clothes I didn’t care about so I could go get my hands dirty and garden. Alex made this very difficult by grabbing me and touching me everywhere the whole time. I took my shirt off and he plastered himself to me grabbing my boobs. I took my pajama pants off and this man literally bit my ass. I had a bite mark. On my ass. I kicked him out of the room so I could finish dressing in peace but that didn’t really work either because once I was done he came back in while I was tying my shoes and just grinded against me. I yelled at him and brought him outside to move dirt around.

That let me tell you didn’t help. Watching Alex shirtless, sweaty, dirty and throwing things around was a lot. I didn’t get as much gardening done as I had hoped because we ended up fucking in the yard but there was always tomorrow for that.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #280

“this is the place in our mind with a crooked crown / we came to execute its own perfect shutdown”

Do you have a strong local accent? No. Do you prefer green or red grapes? Red, but either is fine so long as they’re crisp. Can you stand on your hands unassisted? pffff Who was the last person to knock/ring at your door? Pizza guy. How old were you when you last went trick or treating? No idea. Have you ever been bobbing for apples? ”No. That’s a gross game lol you’re dipping your head and mouth into water other people are dipping their head and mouth into.” <<<< This. What’s your most expensive piece of clothing? No clue. What’s the last thing you took a picture of? Guys I actually took a selfie bc for once in my goddamn life, I felt really pretty with the makeup Summer did on me. She's working towards a degree in cosmetology and is so talented with it. What’s the last thing you drew a picture of? A meerkat pup. Have you ever been on a pogo stick? Omg, yes. I got one for I think Christmas one year as a kid and I got SO into it. I learned how to do it really well. Can you down a pint (of anything) in one? Probably not without throwing up. Have you ever been banned from a public place? No. Have you ever been in a newspaper? A couple times, I think. I know once in elementary school for when I was in chorus; we went somewhere for a small Christmas show. Then I believe I was in it for another school thing? Idr. What football team do you support? I don’t care for football or sports in general. What did you want to be when you grew up? My phases included paleontologist, vet, movie director, author, game designer, aaaand I know I’m forgetting one. But my current and long-term goal has been to become a photographer. Being an artist as a free time “job” has always been an aspiration, too. Have you ever tie-dyed your own clothes? In school, yeah. How often do you buy new clothes? Very rarely. Usually just around Christmas or my birthday from gift cards I get. Are you reliable? In some ways yes, in other ways no. Are you proud of yourself? No. If you could ask your future self one question what would it be? If she’s ended up happy. Do you hold grudges? Nah. Do you decorate the outside of your house for Christmas? Mom does pretty much last minute, but only sometimes when looking at the past few years. Can you solve sudoku puzzles? Sure, they’re fun. What’s the most unusual conversation you've ever had? Who knows. Are you much of a gambler? Not at all. I don’t fuck around with money, especially when just $5 makes you feel great. Have you ever been to Disneyland? I’ve been to Disney World. Do you sing in the shower? Very rarely. Almost never now that I don’t play music while I’m in there. As a child did you ever suck your thumb or fingers? I mean probably? I do know I loved my pacifier and was SO upset when Mom’s doctor or someone playfully told me I was gonna have to give it up because my upcoming baby sister would want to steal it, and guess what? Nicole never fucking used a pacifier so I was tilted lmao. What time do you usually go to bed? Lol BRO it can be as early as 7 PM on bad depression days to as late as like, 2-3 AM. I’d say the average time is like… 9:30. What's your favorite animal? MEERKATS hngggggggggggggggg Have you ever been in marching band? No. Do you have any enemies? No? At least I don’t consider anyone to be. Have you ever been a cheerleader? As a kid, Mom wanted me to so I could do something with my sisters, who were actually interested in cheerleading. She certainly didn’t force me to or anything, I just agreed to it despite not being into it. We were with this Christian sports group for a long time doing various sports all the while being taught lessons in Christlikeness. I’ve actually got warm memories of it Did you ever date anyone on the football team? No. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? No, not that I’m against the idea tho. The plushy would just have to be very special to me and also comfortable to hold. How many consecutive days have you ever missed of school? I missed an entire week when I learned about Mom’s cancer. I could barely function. With how much school stressed me, I would NOT have managed. Have you ever been pregnant? No, not in my to-do list. When was the last time you wanted to speak out, but couldn’t? I’m sure it was recently over Facebook; most times, I keep my mouth shut over political things on there that might get me fired up because I’m afraid of confrontation. Are fingerless gloves awesome? I love them. Wore them daily in high school. I still have some of my favorites, though I’m doubtful they still fit my hands… Would you rather be cannibalistic or die in the wilderness? Okay so I’m gonna actually go kinda in-detail, so the squeamish be warned. Realistically, I think I’d choose to die. ESPECIALLY if I was the one expected to kill another person; then, there’s no question. I wouldn’t be able to do it either if I knew the person. If it was some stranger someone else killed and cooked, I don’t know with absolute certainty; starvation really can make animals out of people. I do know for sure I’d vomit. I far more heavily lean into still preferring to die, because I just believe some things aren’t worth living after they’ve been committed. I’d hate myself. I’d rather die feeling clean of conscience. Would you survive on a deserted island? Hell no. Have you dyed your hair eccentric colors in the past? Yeah, I want to do it far more often… What size drink do you usually get at fast food restaurants? Medium, sometimes small. What do you think is the best thing in life? Love, both platonic and romantic. Have you ever sold anything online either on Craigslist, eBay, Amazon, etc.? If not, what is your website of choice like any of the above for buying things? We sold our previous dog over Craigslist, and I sold my iguana there as well. I know Mom has used eBay and Amazon, but idk for what. Have you ever seen an animal give birth? Have you ever had a pet give birth before? I’ve seen old pet cats give birth many times. What is something you want to try to accomplish within the next year? I want a job that I’m content with and can mentally handle. Oh, and I REALLY want to make strong progress on recovering from the muscle atrophy in my legs. What’s the most unusual kind of pizza you’ve ever tried? I have no clue; I’m not that adventurous with pizza or food in general. If you were given the chance to decorate an entire house the way you wanted, with no limit to cost, how would you decorate it? GOTHIC AS A MOTHERFUCKER WELCOME TO THE GOTDAMN ADDAMS FAMILY. What’s one of your favorite things to touch/feel? My cat. :’) How often do you wear tights? Ew, never. Has there ever been anything you’ve become interested in much later than other people? I guess Instagram, but only as a viewer. I don’t have a personal one, just for my photography that I only rarely post. Have you ever had a veggie burger? Yeah, during my vegetarian streak. Burger King’s really aren’t that bad so long as the patty is made well. Do you like candles? Yeah, sure. When was the last time you wore a sports bra? Forever ago when I was doing Wii Fit. Where did you get the shirt you’re currently wearing? I think Hot Topic? It’s an oversized Umbreon shirt. Who last messaged you on Facebook? My friend Summer when we were planning our lil witch photoshoot w/ friends. Who last walked you home? lol you don’t just have someone “walk you home” here. Bundles of homes are way too far and in-between for reasonable walking distance. Did you make any new friends lately? If so, what are their names and how did you meet them? Not really recently, no. Would you rather see your favorite band/artist in concert with 2 other people or have a free $20,000 shopping spree to Walmart? Seeing Ozzy with my mom would be a DREAM, but to be realistic, I’d take the shopping spree pretty damn quickly. $20k? That would do WONDERS for us, especially as we’re about to move into a new place. When was the last time you threw up and why did you? A long time ago when I started a new medication. Do you want revenge on the person who has hurt you the most? … I’m gonna be REAL honest. For the most part, no. But ngl there are times I’m like “I’m gonna work on getting back in shape and become H O T” like a petty bitch lmao this is embarrassing to admit. Has anyone ever claimed that you saved their life? Yes. Did you ever have that near-drowning experience? No. Have you ever performed on stage? For dance, yes, but I never did a solo. Are you a jealous person? Not jealous (usually), but I’ve come to realize I’m a pretty envious piece of shit. Morning person or night person? I’m in my best mood in the morning because I have the “it’s a fresh start” ideology. Then I repeat exactly what I did the day before. :^) Have you ever written a poem for someone? Numerous times. Do you meditate? No, but I wish I could without it only causing more stress. Do you like cranberries that they serve for Thanksgiving? EW I hate cranberries. What don't you understand that frustrates you? Finances. Do you plan on going to college? I’ve tried college three times and dropped out each time. I’m done trying with school. Do you believe the governments hide technology and information from the public? AbsoFUCKINGlutely. Which is your favorite Pokemon? Ninetales! What horror fiction character scares you the most? What’s the name of the villain in the Scream series? Ghostface? I don’t feel like looking it up, but he TERRIFIED me as a kid, and I still think he’s mega creepy. Were you part of the Brownies/Cubs/Scouts/Guides etc? I was in Girl Scouts. Have you ever invented a fairly unique meal or drink? No. Do you have any family secrets? Don’t think so. Do you often read your horoscope? Never. They’re bullshit. Have you ever had a proper Tarot reading? No; also bullshit. Have you ever milked a cow? No. Do you love or hate rollercoasters? They’ve always scared me because I’m afraid of throwing up. Now with how dizzy I get, I absolutely refuse to try one because I WILL faint with all the movement. What’s your favorite sportswear brand? idc Who’s your favorite superhero? Does Deadpool count? Who’s your favorite villain/baddie? If we’re still in the comics/superhero universe, the Joker. Have you ever won a giant-sized cuddly toy from a fair? No. What would you say is your favorite album of all time? Black Rain by Ozzy Osbourne. I fucking adore it; it was my introduction to metal, and still after all this time, every track S L A P S. I deadass played that CD so much that it scratches at a few points. Do you dislike hairy people? lol fuck this question. I’m guessing you’re asking if I find them attractive and not as if people I “dislike” them, but in both cases, it’s no. We’re mammals, who the fuck cares how hairy you are. Do you like your own name? I actually do really like my name. My first one, anyway. Would you ever sign a Prenuptial agreement? NOPE. Want one? You’re gonna have to find someone else willing to, my man. How long has your longest ever phone call been? No less than two hours, but I know more. I have three instances in particular where I talked with either friends or Jason for SO long. Could you ever have an affair with a married person? Hell no. What is your family Christmas like? Nicole comes here so she and I open presents with Mom, then we spend the day at my older sister’s to be with the kids. We also try to squeeze visiting Dad in there the same day, but sometimes it has to be a different one. If you met a genie who offered you three wishes, what would you wish for? (more wishes does not count) Just three is hard… but #1 is indisputably world peace, and then uhhhh the end of poverty and maybe the cure for cancer. I’d have a super hard time picking a third; so many things matter to me. Have you ever had your national flag painted on your face? No, not in my plans. Do you have any strange body things? Well, define “strange,” I guess? Nothing like, really strange. What fairy tale character would you most associate with? Can I be Snow White and attract cute critters like moths to a flame? Also I would 100% take a Good apple. If a loved one was to serenade you, what song would you most like them to sing? It would depend on the person and our bond, really. Is there a cherished song between us? What is our relationship like? There’s no umbrella song I can think of. Is your dad an embarrassing dancer? GUYS!!!!!!!!!!! My sister’s wedding, okay? Father/daughter dance? He actually has MOVES and it was incredible man, never gonna forget that. What if any unusual objects have you swallowed? Nothing, I think. If you were stinking rich, would you only go to places other rich people went? Hell naw, man. There are plenty of great, affordable places in all categories. I could be a millionaire and you’d still see my ass in McDonald’s ordering a burger and fries lmao. Have you ever owned a slinky? My sisters and I had multiple as kids; those were d o p e. Teenage parents, good, bad, or indifferent? An AWFUL idea. A teenager is physically, most likely financially, and mentally unprepared to raise a child properly. It can seriously affect the kid, and of course the parent. What’s the most expensive thing you’ve ever broken? I’m unsure. Pirate downloads, good or bad? It’s bad… yet plenty (myself included) have/do do it. Democracy, good or bad? Good. It’s very important to me that rule should come from the people’s majority versus a small coalition of rich guys. While the majority is not always right, it seems like the best option to me. Communism, good or bad? Okay so to be totally honest I actually don’t entirely understand what communism outlines. Like I just read multiple definitions and small articles and I’m still kinda like “????”, though judging by the countries listed as those governed by communism, I would guess it’s bad? Have you ever been electrocuted? On an electric fence, but it wasn’t too bad. Have you ever been hit on by someone of the same gender? Yeah. The war in Iraq, good or bad? Get the fuck out of it. To start with, I’m a pretty fierce pacifist, and just… killing and killing and killing for YEARS is so goddamn pointless and is just a massacre. The war in Afganistan, good or bad? jfc ^ Have you ever appeared on YouTube? LET’S NEVER TALK ABOUT THIS lmfao Have you ever eaten anything prepared by a celebrity chef? No,, but that’d be dope. Have you ever been on radio? No. Do you prefer male or female singers voices? ”Their gender doesn’t matter, but their talent does.” <<<< Do you have a list of things to do before your ‘x’ years old? Goals should not be judged by age. I’m bad at this and have to remind myself of it a lot. A goal is a goal regardless of a number. Celebrate for *you*. Are you proud, comfortable or ashamed of your body? Very very much ashamed. Do you know html? Super poorly. Have you ever flown first class? lol hunny What are better, violins or pianos? Violins. How old is your oldest blanket? As old as me. My baby blanket is stored somewhere. Do you take enough vacations? lol hell no. I’ve maybe gone on three vacations in my entire life. Have you ever been sick on your birthday? Yup. Then one time I was recovering from a wicked stomach virus but went to Olive Garden anyway lol. I was fine though, and it’s actually a sweet memory because Jason (he worked there at the time) got the staff to do the whole “happy birthday” thing. I got a bombin’ brownie. Who is your favorite person? Sara and my mom. What do you do to stay healthy? lol you assume I’m healthy. What is your favorite form of exercise? Swimming. Do you like going to church? I never did. As a kid, I would cry when/if Mom decided we were going to mass after Sunday school lmao. It’s always been boring and too long to me, even when I was religious. Have you ever fallen asleep during a sermon? Probably as a kid. Do you like to pray for others? No. I don’t believe anyone hears them or will intervene somehow if I ask anyway. Have you ever witnessed a miracle? No. I don’t think I believe in those anyway. Have you ever been the recipient of a miracle? Definitely not. How did you or whoever come up with the name(s) for your pet(s)? I thought “Roman” was a majestic name for a male cat, and Venus has the coloration that the planet does. Who did you last walk a dog with? Sara and I walked Buster the last time I was there. It was windy as SHIT so we didn’t get far because my ass was absolutely freezing, all the while Sara was used to it. Ride bikes with? Wow, good question. I haven’t ridden a bike in many, many years. Hold hands with? My friend Summer did yesterday when she was trying to reassure me of something. For what reason did you last high five someone? Ryder and Aubree each caught Pokemon in Pokemon GO. :’’’’) I was watching them in the car while my sister/their mom was doing something at work, and they wanted to play it; they’ve come to learn that between my phone and DS, I’m the Pokemon provider, lol. I was the proudest fucking aunt ever bc they did SO GOOD after getting the hang of throwing the ball like Y’ALL. When Ash came back to the car, I gave ‘em each high fives before getting back in. What color and type is your vehicle? Don’t have my own car. Looking to upgrade or add any time soon? I doubt I’ll have my own soon. What animal do you have the most possessions *of*, or featuring? Like, décor or stuffed animals, things like that? Not the actual living creature? Easily meerkats, holy shit do I have a collection. What do you use to wash your dishes? Gain soap. Last thing you measured? Uhhh idk. Last thing you weighed? Myself. Last song you danced to? *shrug* What do you remember from your dream last night? I just remember it was a nightmare about Dad being angry. How old were you when you got your first credit card? Lol I don’t have one. Do you talk to your parent(s) [almost] every day? Mom, yes. Dad, no, because we don’t live together. What does your shampoo and conditioner smell like? I just started using a Dove brand shampoo targeting dandruff, so I don’t think it has a specific smell. I don’t use conditioner, just adds grease to your hair, plus mine is short anyway. Last person to tell you that you smell good? Idk. Last person you told that they smell good? I also don’t know. If you smoke marijuana, what is your preferred or typical method? I’ve never touched it. Last person you ran into unexpectedly? Ummm idr. How many plants can you see right now? There’re none in my room. Last compliment you received on your appearance? HA On your character/personality? That I was a loving sister. Do you remain friends with anyone you met at your first job? N/A Who have you hugged in the past month? My mom, Summer, sisters, niece and nephew, Dad… Newest musical discovery? 3TEETH is great. Like, I'm obsessed. Their cover of “Pumped Up Kicks” snagged my attention, despite actually being iffy about it at first. Guess what I’m listening to this minute lmao. Last thing you cleaned? A cup. What exactly do you carry around all your stuff in? A purse. What do you carry around, typically? Phone, keys, wallet, hand sanitizer, and my iPod are items of note. Where is your newest scar? It’s on the palm of my left hand from Roman playing with me. Where is your oldest scar? Idk. Last thing you disposed of? The milk carton. What was the last picture someone sent you? Mom sent me a gif from Hocus Pocus to fit the witch photoshoot Summer, her friend, and I did. Did you hear a siren today? No. What do you typically drink? I would rather not pretend I tend to drink soda lmao Last bad news you heard? My aunt’s brother committed suicide a couple days ago. Last good news you heard? I don’t really know. How far away is the closest cinema from your house? It’s like, 15-ish minutes away. Have you ever been to the emergency room? Many times. Are you one of those people who can’t go without their morning coffee? Y’all know me and coffee. But in place, I have my morning Mountain Dew, rip in fucking pieces. Have you ever worn fake eyelashes? No, though I’m honestly curious what I’d look like. Do you know the story of how your parents met? If so, tell me? They were coworkers; that’s all I know. What is your favorite Chinese food? I love pork fried rice. Do you live far from your parents? I live with my Mom. I live around 20 minutes or so away from Dad. What was the last hot food you ate? I’m assuming you mean spicy as opposed to just hot as in temperature. In that case, probably hot wings. Have you ever seen a meteor shower? No. Describe your current position: I’m lying down in bed, just kinda perked up by my two pillows. Have you used a microwave today? Yes; I had a Jimmy Dean breakfast bowl. Do you prefer going out for coffee or brewing your own? N/A Have you consumed caffeine today? If so, in what form? yikes- Do you know anyone who follows a raw vegan diet and lifestyle? Not that I know of. Have you killed a bug this week? Yes; we’re dealing with a lovely mix of gnats and fleas. What was the first food you learned how to cook? Scrambled eggs. Or maybe pancakes with Mom’s assistance. Idr. Do you have a Bachelor’s degree? If so, what in? No. How many email accounts do you have? Two. Can you go see a doctor alone or do you like to take someone with you? I like my mom to be with me. How long is your average shower? 15 minutes, maybe? It depends on the routine I feel like doing. When’s the last time you had a headache? Yesterday. What woke you up this morning? I think I woke up naturally? A rare occasion nowadays. Who was the last person you cried in front of? Summer, yesterday.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Bedside Stories ch.4 (baon)

Summary: Stretch is on a quest and just because it’s on a bus and not a steed, doesn’t mean it’s not noble.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Domestic, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury,

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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CH1 | CH2 | CH3

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Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

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When Stretch jerked awake his first panicked thought was that he’d missed his stop. But no, the Embassy dropoff was coming up next, looming up through the bus windshield. Guess he had some latent directional sense buried in one of the dusty corners of his psyche.

Not like he’d meant to fall asleep, but Edge’s insomnia seemed to be contagious. He’d started out the ride browsing on twitter, trying to think of something noncommittal to say that also wasn’t too lighthearted, given what was blaring about Monsters lately on Fox news.

He'd been strictly forbidden from discussing anything surrounding the bombings with his followers and normally restrictions like that made him bristle, his nonexistent nerves going full porcupine. In this instance, he’d only meekly agreed, but that didn’t keep his followers from doing their math. No Humans actually knew how few skeleton Monsters there were, but then, most Monster species were a little on the sparse side. Some clever bloggers had linked pictures of Edge’s boots from Stretch’s twitter to the shots the press released of the bombing aftermath. Stretch hadn’t looked at those pictures too closely, but he’d seen the zoomed in shots with the boots circled with Microsoft paint.

Without him saying a word, it was suddenly an ill-kept secret that his husband was hurt and the messages were pouring in, asking for confirmation, offering condolences, donations, even sending prayers which was weird, but sorta kind. Sorta.

Twitter was less a distraction and more an unwanted obligation this week, and he’d finally put his phone away. He wasn’t the only Monster on board, not on a bus route that went past the Embassy. At this time of day, there weren’t many others. They’d offered smiles and murmured greetings, then pretty much left him alone.

That was fine by him. But with no one to chat to, he must’ve drifted off and it was nice to see he’d managed to scrape together enough good luck not to end up all the way downtown. Hopefully, he had enough leftover to take him to the end of this mission.

He was still a little bleary as he got off the bus. The sight of the protesters lining the sidewalk, all bundled up and sitting in their lawn chairs with their signs woke him up pretty damn quick. Eh, shit, he’d promised Edge he’d teleport right into the lobby, but he hadn’t called ahead and popping in when they were under high alert seemed like a poor life choice. Instead, he shortcutted to the front door, hey, he was following the spirit of the promise which was to keep safe and scaring the shit out of the security guard wasn’t it.

The guard on duty didn’t much look like he’d be surprised if Stretch shortcutted in on his lap. Murray was a huge, hulking Monster, with curling horns and a thirst for crosswords. He barely looked up at his current one, mumbling a greeting as Stretch swiped his card to push through the turnstile. He’d done pretty much the same thing every time Stretch stopped in, including when he’d shown up in just a bed sheet. There was one Monster who wasn’t worried about current events, almost had to admire that kind of skill in blatantly ignoring a crisis.

Stretch stepped into the elevator alone and pushed the button, vaguely humming the theme song to ‘Mission Impossible’. Not that it was, but eh, life could use a soundtrack from time to time.

It was too damn bad he didn’t have time to visit Andy while he was here; he hadn’t even seen his office yet and was planning to get him something for his desk. Maybe a Newton’s cradle, that seemed traditional, but a Nerf gun was a good way to build a community. He made a mental promise to come visit Edge for lunch someday and stop in bearing gifts.

The elevator dinged and Stretch got off, heading down the hallway. He’d only been here a couple of times, but he knew right where he was going.

The slim Monster sitting at the desk looked up as he came in, his cheery smile fading into something a little more forced. Asgore’s assistant, Kevin, was probably an okay guy, but none-too-fond of Stretch’s approach where his boss was concerned and Stretch was never exactly excited to spend any time with Asgore’s biggest fan. “Can I help you?”

“yeah. is ass-gore in or is he busy glad-handing his way down the hallways.” Really, Stretch couldn’t fathom why Kevin didn’t like him.

That forced smile iced over. “I beg your pardon.”

Slowly and deliberately, Stretch said, “is. asgore. in.”

“I’m afraid he’s not taking appointments today.” If Kevin got any colder, he’d be spitting ice chips across his desk and mess up all that important paperwork.

Stretch gave him a thin smile. “look we both know i’m in your office as a courtesy, so let’s go ahead and keep it courteous, yeah? i don’t want to play dodge-ums today after i scaring the shit out of him popping in, and he could probably do without any fresh surprises.”

He was pretty sure he was about to be told in very polite and courteous language to get fucked with the intercom crackled, Asgore’s voice booming over the line.

“Let him in.”

It was probably petty to smirk smugly at Kevin as he walked past him. It definitely was to give him a little backhanded finger-waggle of a wave. But eh, it served his purpose to use up a little of his distaste before he stepped into the office where Asgore was waiting behind the desk.

He started to rise and Stretch could almost feel the cheerfully ‘Howdy’ start to vibrate in the air before he choked it back to a more sedate, “Good afternoon, Stretch, won’t you sit down?”

Asgore gestured to a large, overstuffed sofa and Stretch almost said no, less out of ingrained spitefulness and more because he was agitated, already fidgeting with his lighter as he took a seat.

He waited while Asgore did the same, settling across from him in a chair that’d probably had to be specially made. Not many Humans hit Boss Monster sizes and those that did probably wished for a shorter inseam. It was hard enough for Stretch to find pants.

Asgore laced his hands comfortably over his belly and asked, “What can I do for you?”

“i need a favor,” Stretch said bluntly, ignoring Asgore’s visible surprise. He didn’t much have the time or inclination to draw this out, “i need you to let edge come back to work.”

The surprise on Asgore’s expression only deepened, leaving him distinctly taken aback, his furry caterpillar eyebrows drawn downward. Yeah, Stretch got that; him not only asking for a favor but for THAT favor was worth some eyebrow gymnastics.

“You want him back to work,” Asgore repeated slowly.

“i don’t actually, not really, but he needs to come back.”

“Is everything all right?” Asgore asked delicately. Looking into his concerned face was making his anxiety give the mambo a try; Stretch didn’t want to discuss Edge with Asgore, not as his King, his boss, or that fatherly role that he tried so hard to step into. He looked past him instead, at the picture on the wall between two bookcases. A painting, not a very good one, but recognizably of golden flowers. They didn’t transplant well from the Underground, a lot of Monsters mourned easy access to their favorite tea and Stretch wondered if Asgore had painted it. Maybe Frisk, the kid was fond of their adopted dad and--

Asgore was nothing if not polite and didn’t say anything while Stretch woolgathered long enough for enough yarn to make to make a sweater.

Shit or get off the pot was one of Red’s favorite idioms, not one of Stretch’s faves and kinda ironic considering that none of them had asses, but sometimes it was the truth. “i know you think you’re doing him a favor but you’re not. he’s stuck at home on our sofa, he can’t go running, can’t clean, can’t even cook, and he’s being forced to watch all this shit go down from the buzzfeed angle. you can’t take away his reason for living like this.”

The chair creaked ominously as Asgore shifted his weight. “I’d like to hope his job isn’t his reason for living.”

“it’s not the job. it’s helping people. he needs to help people,” Stretch took a deep breath, he was doing a shit job explaining this and Asgore didn’t look very convinced. “look, i know depressed, okay, and he’s verging on it. you have to give him something. i know him, better than you, better than anyone. he’s been glued to the boob tube all week, writing notes, making plans. let him help a little, it’ll calm all those protective instincts down if he thinks he’s helping.”

At least Asgore seemed to consider that. He propped his head up on a hand the size of a meatloaf. Or a chicken. “He hasn’t scheduled his mental health assessment yet.”

“i know. skip it for now, he’ll get it done later.”

Asgore frowned, his face creasing with concern. “The assessment is for his own good. It’s not simply bureaucratic nonsense, it is for his well being.”

Stretch was already nodding, absently noting the click-click-click of his lighter weaving in and out through his fingers. “i get that, i do. can you trust my assessment? look, i’ll get him into the head shrinker if that’s what you want, but don’t make his job conditional on it. i’m a big proponent of mental health care and i’ve got vested reasons for making sure he’s doing okay. but he needs this.”

Asgore was obviously thinking hard, looking at nothing over his steepled fingers, but Stretch wasn’t sure which side of the teeter-totter he was gonna come down on. Being able to read people’s intent and souls was a skill Stretch still had, but he was hella out of practice and didn’t really want to train back up.

“All right,” Asgore said at last. “On three conditions.”

“three!”

He spread his large hands. “This is not a small favor.”

Stretch sighed and slumped back. He wasn’t wrong and Stretch knew from personal experience that when Asgore had you by the balls, he knew how to give ‘em a good, firm twist. It was kinda chuckilicious, really. “start talking.”

“First, I tell him it’s my idea.”

“why?” Stretch said immediately. He had an inkling, but better to not take anything for granted.

Asgore was ready for him. “Because he will appreciate my trust in him and his skills, and because he will not appreciate you interfering like this. Am I wrong?”

He wasn’t. “deal.”

“Second, you promise me that you’ll get him in for that assessment. I’ll give you until the end of the month, but if it hasn’t been done, I‘ll suspend him.”

“promise.” There was a sour taste on the back of his tongue as he waited for the last ticky box.

“And last, you shake my hand.”

“what?” That one got him sitting forward, sputtering out, “why?”

“Because you’re asking a favor,” Asgore said serenely. He laced his hands over his soft middle again. “And those are my terms.”

Stretch glared hotly at him, but Asgore was unperturbed. Probably had lots of people scarier that Stretch giving him the ol’ death glare.

Welp, it was hardly the worst thing he’d ever done.

Stretch held out his hand and Asgore leaned forward to take it.

The loud whirr of the joybuzzer made Asgore jump and jerk his hand back, but he only laughed heartily, slapping his knees as he rose. “All right, I’ll have his access restored by this evening. I trust you’ll keep him from overdoing it?”

“yeah, i got it,” Stretch stood hastily and tucked the joy buzzer back into his pocket. He resisted the urge to scrub his hand on his pants. Asgore would take it wrong and he wasn’t that much of a dick, even if that furry palm made his bones tickle something fierce. He headed for the door, relief already seeping in. “thanks.”

“Stretch?” he paused, his hand on the doorknob. “I’m glad you came to me.”

“don’t make this into some bonding moment, okay?” Stretch gave him a side eye. “it’s not like i had a lot of other people to ask.”

Asgore’s smile twisted wryly. “Of course. Be careful on your ride home.”

Stretch didn’t say, ‘thanks, grandma’, but it was a close thing.

Simply walking past the daggers Kevin was glaring at him was exhausting and the second he was out of the office, Stretch shortcutted down to the elevators.

In no time he was safely back on the bus, slumped down. He was ready for another nap, but there wasn’t time for that. The main story line on his adventure was was done, but he still had a side quest to finish.

He opened an app on his phone and tapped in an order, and by the time the bus trundled to a halt at the bus stop outside the Golden City, it was waiting for him with one of their drivers, bundled into a warm jacket with the goods in hand. The young man who handed in the bag filled with cartons of yumminess only grinned at him, but he took the hefty tip Stretch offered without complaint.

Stretch plopped the heavy bag on the seat next to him and slumped back again, “home, jeeves,” Stretch mumbled to nobody and he hoped if he zonked out again one of the other Monsters on the bus would be kind enough to give him a nudge.

By the time he walked through his front door again, feeling worn and jelly-wobbly , Edge was awake and dressed, with an opened book in his hands.

“hey, babe,” Stretch called, kicking off his shoes and leaving them piled on the mat. “sorry i ditched on you, but my cooking skills have been tested to their limit and it’s a little late to hire gordon ramsey for the night.”

“Yes, I saw your note.” He set the book aside and his warm smile was like an infusion, easing some of Stretch’s weariness. “What treasures did you bring us from the shores of Ebott?”

“arr, matey,” Stretch laughed. “except i didn’t get any fish. hope chinese sounds good.”

“Golden City?” Edge said slowly and something in his voice made Stretch hesitate.

Shit.

They hadn’t been back there together since the whole thing with Andy. Stretch hadn’t even thought about that in a while, he’d gone over it with his therapist and that’d been crap, but honestly, he liked to put that one into the win category. Andy was okay and had a new job, the shitbags were in jail, and public opinion ended up on their side. Plus, he wasn’t about to let any assholes ruin Chinese food for him, thanks, but Edge didn’t look like he’d gotten that memo.

Stretch’d gone back on his own a couple times for the lunch special, had he ever mentioned that to Edge? He couldn’t remember, he hadn’t been hiding it or anything, it just never came up. Until now, and the last thing he wanted to do was get Edge to relive any other shitty event highlights.

“yeah, um,” Stretch forced cheer into his voice. “i had them bring the takeout bags to the bus stop, saved myself a walk.”

Whatever Edge was thinking in that head of his, he didn’t let it out to play. He only nodded, looking back at his book as he said, “Clever. It does sound good.”

“great!” Stretch said brightly, maybe not a firework, but he could try for a sparkler. “i’ll go get some plates.” With dismal humor, he thought that if he injected in any more manic cheer, he’d start to sound like his bro. He set the bags down on the coffee table next to the pile of pillows and headed for the kitchen, since Edge had very strong opinions on eating out of cartons that he wasn’t shy about sharing.

By the time they were settled in with their plates, whatever concerns Edge had about Stretch revisiting the scene of a crime, as it were, seemed to have been banished. He ate hungrily and that alone was a relief. He’d been picking at his meals for the past day or so and Stretch didn’t think his cooking was entirely to blame. Just added data to his hypothesis that with proper application, sex was a cure for many ills. Worked for him, anyway.

Halfway through the last carton of chop suey, Edge’s phone pinged. Stretch kept his attention on his plate, slurping up noodles with an impressive amount of noise for someone who lacked lips. Out of the corner of his socket he saw Edge frowning at the message.

“Asgore is restoring my Embassy access,” Edge said slowly. “He said that with everything that’s happening, they need my assistance, and he’s asking that I work half days for the rest of the week.”

Okay, here was where he put his acting skills to the test and if he couldn’t go for an Oscar, he at least needed a Golden Globe.

Stretch worked up what he hoped was the proper amount of indignant anger and said, “seriously? you got one week off to recover from almost getting blown up and ass-gore can’t even give you that?” And before Edge could say anything, he threw his hand up, dumping his empty plate on the coffee table hard enough for his fork to clatter. “you know what? never mind. go ahead, help out, at least it’ll be for a good cause and not him using you as an extra security guard.”

“No,” Edge set his phone aside, “I’m not doing it.”

Um, what? “what?” Stretch said blankly, fuck, he was going to get a razzy with this performance, must’ve chewed the scenery too hard.

“No. I was thinking while you were gone and I’ve been acting appallingly since we got home. I’ve been sulking like a child while you’ve been trying so hard to care for me.” He touched Stretch’s cheek bone gently, his glove velvety soft as he ran his thumb across it. “Considering how things were between us when I left for California, I think I need to focus more on you than paperwork.”

Well, this was some modern-day gift of the magi shit, now wasn’t it? Last week he would have been thrilled to hear this and now that he’d made a special trip and begged for favors he was getting hoisted by his own fibbing petard.

Okay, nope, his hard work was not going to be in vain, damn it, this chapter of his life was going to end with happiness and accolades all around. Edge might be the strategy guy, but Stretch wasn’t half-bad on the fly, and his plans might be a little loose, or chaotic as Edge put it, but he could plan.

First, he gave Edge a kiss, made sure to linger, made it sweet, soft, trying to pour his love into it, until he was almost distracted himself.

Next step, bullshit.

He leaned back, cupping Edge’s face in his hands and gave him the best smile he had left on the shelf. “that’s really sweet, babe, but how about a compromise? you can spend a couple hours in the afternoon working while i take a nap. that’ll let you get all your ‘save the world’ energy out in time for dinner, yeah?”

Ooh, might have a winner here. Edge was visibly wavering, probably thinking of all the luscious paperwork he could get through in a couple of hours. Time to go for the throat, “beside, janice is probably going nuts without you. if you help out, maybe she’ll be able to get home in time to see her kiddos before bedtime.”

Direct hit, winner winner, no chicken for dinner, “That...would be helpful, yes.” Edge gave him another toe-curling, shivery kiss before he murmured, “Promise me that you don’t mind?”

Stretch twitched back, grimacing. He’d been making an awful lot of promises lately. “i promise.”

He stood up to clear away the plates and leftovers, and by the time he got back, Edge already had his laptop out and was typing away. Stretch was about to put a movie on and let him work, but before he could even steal the remote, Edge said, “My access is also conditional on my getting that assessment.”

Um, wow, okay, they were actually talking about this? Cautiously, Stretch offered, “i take it you’re not a big fan of the idea.”

He tried to say it as neutrally as he could, but Edge set his laptop on the side table and took his hand, tugging him down into his lap. Stretch settled gingerly, watching his husband’s face carefully for any hint of discomfort. There was none, and he let Edge tuck his head against his shoulder, his hand smoothing down Stretch’s back.

“Stretch, i don’t mean to imply that there is anything wrong with therapy or that it’s somehow beneath me. I’m not that much of a hypocrite and I can see that it’s been helping you,” Edge hesitated and Stretch held his breath, remembering when Edge told him it was easier to talk sometimes if Stretch wasn’t looking at him. He kept his head down, snuggling into Edge in what he hoped was an encouraging way. “My issue is that it’s difficult for me to open up to anyone and this is a colleague. I see them in the hallways, in the cafeteria. I’m struggling with the idea of answering the kind of questions they might ask me.”

“okay,” Stretch said slowly. “so see someone else?”

Edge jerked and when Stretch lifted his head, he looked so surprised that Stretch couldn’t help smiling. Trust his baby to be looking for the answer to a complex puzzle when the easiest route was staring him in the face.

“i could talk to my therapist?” Stretch offered. “see if she could recommend someone.”

“A Human.”

“yeah, probably. would that be a problem?”

“I..no,” Edge said slowly. “No, I think that would be better. Perhaps I should simply talk with your therapist, I already know her and she’s done well for you and Sans.”

That made him feel a little squirmy inside; he told things to Doctor Lee that he’d never told anyone, not his own brother, not Edge. It was only an assessment, not like a weekly commitment, but--

“can i think about it?”

“Of course.” No concern, no anger, only another gentle kiss. He slipped off Edge’s lap before they got carried away, no double-dipping on afternoon delights while anyone had a cast. Stretch settled down on the sofa, the top of his skull leaning on Edge’s femur, and flicked a movie on, the volume low and subtitles running. Edge was typing away on his laptop, but occasionally a hand would stroke over his skull, helping to lull him to sleep.

Stretch couldn’t say how long he lay there drowsing, and he murmured a faint protest when Edge eventually pulled away and stood.

“I’m only getting a drink, love and I need to work out the kinks.”

“i can help you with any kink, make a list,” Stretch mumbled.

An amused sound close to his skull and a rough kiss pressed on top of it. “We’ll try that when I’m back on two feet.”

Vaguely, he heard Edge crutch his way to the kitchen, the door swinging open then shut, listening to the faint murmur of the television. The sudden crash was almost deafening, even through the kitchen door, jolting Stretch awake. Before he could do more than look around wildly, Edge called his name, and fuck, fuck, he’d never heard Edge like that, called his name, no, no, he yelled it, screamed it. Not hurt, no, he sounded scared when had Edge ever sounded scared?

Before he shortcutted into the kitchen, his magic running hot, ready to deal with what the fuck ever dared come to their house, his last darkly amused thought was that he shouldn’t have used all his good luck that afternoon.

-tbc-

Check me out on AO3  | I’m also on twitter

[plagued-yakuza]

To Have You Back

So apparently I can’t read, or if I did I forgot, because I totally missed the deadline for posting the OP x BNHA hub event! ;A; Honestly, I almost cried when the mods of @onepiecerphub​ contacted me. I’m terribly, TERRIBLY sorry!! @askblackleg-sanji​ please have my apologies alongside your gift! I loved your content and I think you’re a great artist and such a chill person. I’m willing to write you another one to make up for the delay if you want ;w;

This piece has been half-finished in my drafts since the beginning of September, and since my class today was canceled, I took the time for some tweeking and updating to make it more manga-compliant. Once again, I’m really sorry for the delay! No content warning for this that except for innuendo and manga spoilers - but it’s kinda big, so it goes under a read more.

Summary: They finally meet again in Wano. While things may have changed, others are exactly as they should be. (ZoSan | One Piece)

Moonlight paints the ruined castle in shades of silver and black, glossing over the remains of destruction, less of a tragedy and more like a dream. The existent warmth comes from the embers of their bonfire, already dulled by Wano’s insistent winds, only strong enough to create a smaller circle of golden light and heat. They’re scattered around it, wrapped around themselves to keep precious body heat, the only sounds those of a peaceful night after the stress of the afternoon and the emotional tales of the evening.  

Still, one of the pirates has not fallen asleep. Despite the tiredness weighing down his bones, Sanji is wide awake, the light smoke of the cigarette and the pleasant twirl of his thoughts to his company. He has never been to Wano before, and yet it feels like home, like belonging. During the dreadful time in Whole Cake island, he has longed for this - for the sight of his asleep nakama nearby, for the safety and comfort of their presence. Luffy’s light snoring to disturb the occasional song of the cicadas, Chopper bundling up with Nami and Carrot to share a cover, Momonosuke laying against Kin’emon, even Torao asleep with that silly hat over his face. After almost giving up on it all, even if for reasons he thought for the best at the time, he treasures it even further, and the quiet joy keeps him awake for longer than he thought that night.

There is the light shuffling of cloth nearby, along with the tinkling of metal as it shifts in its leather band with the owner’s movements. Sanji makes no comment as the green-haired man takes a place beside him next to the dying fire, seemingly too caught up in his own thoughts to care. Zoro lets a long sigh escape his throat as he stretches his tired muscles, knowingly calling to himself an attention that he already had.

“So…. The girl?” The swordsman asks casually, fingers drumming against his hurting neck. His good eye is closed, his silhouette drawn in yellow and black against the fire, a sight that Sanji is pleased to be the only one awake to see.

“Didn’t really work out.” The chef shrugs lightly, taking in a deep puff from his cigarette rather than expanding more on what happened in Tottoland. He needs the calming numbness of nicotine to push it away from his mind, a sign he knows the other will understand.

Zoro snorts, a tiny smile playing on the edge of his lips - the mere sight makes Sanji frown, the edge between his brows deepening with the following comment. “I bet it didn’t.”

“What are you implying, eh?”

“That not even Big Mom’s ugly kid wanted you.”

“Fuck off! She was really pretty!” The blonde huffs, smoke puffing out from his nostrils as he glances beside him in annoyance.

“Oh, was she then? Then why all that trouble of sending Bege and shit to get you there? Like you wouldn’t do a thing for a skirt.”

“You’re wearing one.” The reply is smooth and self-assured both, a playful jab with a not at all subtle hint. He can see Zoro grim with the edge of his eyes, and he knows this means a small victory in their rather particular way of flirting.

“Last time you met a nice lady you got all beaten up. Or did you?”

“I’ll beat you up myself if you keep up with this bullshit, Marimo.”

"Would you?” Zoro’s reply is as sharp as his swordsmanship, an eyebrow lifted slightly in provocation, and in between his words is a promise that paints the tips of Sanji’s ears red.

“I will.” The chef is quick to assure, breathing in smoke to hide his embarrassment as his gaze shifts away, back to the fire, to recollect himself and change the subject. “What were you up to, during that?”

“Was accused of killing some dudes. Had to leave the capitol for that - Torao was pretty pissed.”

“And did you cut them?”

“Of course not. He only wanted Shusui.” He makes a mention to the swords held close to his hip, his index finger laying on the flowery handguard of the dark-bladed treasure. The touch is soft, as caring as he is when they’re alone like this. “They thought I stole this from an old samurai, but it was that creepy shadow dude that got his body and brought him back. He gave it to me after we fought.”

“That was back in Thriller Bark, right?” At the time, it had been terrifying; two years later, Sanji is surprised on how nostalgic it feels to remember the decaying boat and its inhabitants. “Such a long time ago.”

“You’d figure they’d have found out earlier I wasn’t here all that time back. But the attacker himself was the judge, and tried to accuse me of using it against some others, so I cut him down.”

“You cut down the judge?”

“And the building.” Zoro adds solemnly, with a light nod of his head.

Sanji cannot hold it anymore - he laughs aloud, almost wheezing in between breaths. The fingers that hold his cigarette are trembling slightly as they bring it back to his mouth, an effort to keep himself quiet and not awake their companions. It is their moment, and he does not wish to interrupt it. “That’s such a Marimo thing to do. Bet you didn’t even think of the consequences, did ya?”

“What for? I’ll just cut whoever comes my way.”

It takes more willpower this time to hold back the laughs, and he fails to control the smile that insists to come out when he hears such things from dumb Marimo. It feels so easy, so liberating - he envies it, and the feeling comes out the smoke as the cook sighs. “I wish I could be as straight-minded as you and the captain. Sometimes I think about things too much.”

“That’s your fault.” The swordsman replies in the same beat, an accusatory finger poking against Sanji’s temples as he glares at his companion with a narrowed eye. “You and this swirly eyebrow, it catches your thoughts and prevents them from leaving your brain.”

“It what?”

“You’re a dumbass.”

“Says who?? Nothing you just said makes sense!”

“Makes more sense than your face.”

“I’ll put sense in you so hard you’ll remember my shoe size forever!”

“That’s if I don’t cut you up and serve you for dinner first!”

They’re up to each other now, hands on collars, faces close enough for their noses to touch, and it is a miracle the altercation has not awaken any of their companions. Sanji’s long-forgotten cigarette is turning to ash on the floor, a different kind of drug in his veins as he leans closer, the grip on his clothes softening as his lover does the same. The hidden touch of their lips is what he missed the most - the way their tongues seem to meld against each other, to be close enough to feel his body heat and his scent, to dig his fingers into that stupidly soft green hair. He missed those stolen moments in the Sunny, away from the well-intentioned but nosy eyes of their crewmates, and the dance of competition, playful insults and teasing provocations they share in their own pace.

He missed Zoro, most of all, and he has no heart to put in words how he dreaded never seeing him again.

They back off slowly from each other, in between heavy breaths and burning cheeks, fingers intertwined and foreheads touching in the feeling of longing and the thrill of danger. They could very well have been caught, kissing right there where any of their nakama could see, and it makes Sanji’s heart drum faster in his ears with the need of doing it again.  

Yet the swordsman backs off, green hair brushing against the cook’s cheek as he moves to lay his head on his shoulder. Almost instinctively, the prince’s hand rises to caress his lover’s hair, long, skilled fingers combing through in a calming gesture. It is only due to the quiet environment that he can hear Zoro whispering against his shoulder, the grip in his other hand tightening. “I missed you. Dumbass. I thought you’d stay with that girl forever.”

“I would never leave the crew. Or Luffy. Or you.”

“Nice to see your level of priorities.” The green haired grumbles, shifting his position to glare annoyedly at Sanji in between long eyelashes. “I come last, eh?”

“Suits you well for how annoying you are.” The blonde teases back, a smirk playing in his reddened lips. His gaze softens despite that, the proximity and softness under his fingertips mellowing his teasing lightly. “You know I’d never truly leave, right?”

“Fucking no.” Zoro buries his head on the chef’s shoulder again, half-hiding from his own embarrassment, half-eager for the closeness. “You’d leave us and marry the girl just so we could all be safe or some bullshit. Stop putting yourself on the line, Swirly Eyebrow. How am I supposed to deal with that?”

“I’m sorry.” Sanji mumbles back in quiet remorse, the echo of Luffy’s words fresh in his mind. I just wanted to keep you all safe, is all he wants to say, but Zoro knows it; he can feel it in the way the swordmaster pulls him closer, in the light huff of anger he lets out. He knows and he hates it, and they will butt heads for this and for so many other things in the days and years to come. For once, Sanji does not want to think of sacrifice. He just wants to stay there for a while longer, to kiss the top of Zoro’s head and whisper: “But I’m here. I’m right here, and here to stay.”

It won’t last forever, they’re both aware of that. As morning comes, their nakama will awake to find Sanji making breakfast and Zoro napping, and think no else of it. But for now, they have this moment - a place to belong, even in the dreadful Wano country, and a memory written in moonlight amidst those ruins.

“......At least I’m glad to have you back.”

[annablack1102]

Shades of Autumn

Summary: Miranda convinces a very reluctant Negan to have some fall family fun to cheer up her cousin Sophia. 

Characters: Negan X OC , Sophia  Warnings: language, fluffy goodness Beta: my very wonderful @sarcasticrose18  A/N: This started as a request by my dear friend @scarletthart96 and turned into something more. This will be a preview to the next chapter fic that I’m working on where Sophia ends up living with her cousin, Miranda, after losing her mother, Carol. This is just a cute little one shot that is already spiraling so I hope you like it. 

Masterlist

Shades of Autumn 

“What? Fuck no.” Negan made a face at Miranda’s suggestion, not looking up from the vegetables he was chopping for whatever the fuck he was planning on making for dinner. Miranda had gotten used to not asking because he wouldn’t tell her anyways. His answer was always ‘just trust me’. And if she were being honest, she did. He was an amazing cook. Which was probably the only thing Sophia liked about him, considering she was used to Miranda’s cooking that left a lot to be desired.

“Seriously? It won’t be that bad. I’m not asking you to go square dancing or something ridiculous. Just...pumpkin patches and hayrides. You know, fall stuff.” Miranda said, watching as he met her gaze with a scowl.

“Okay, first of all I would rock square dancing. Second of all… why? Can’t we just watch a couple scary movies and call it a day?” He asked, going back to what he was cooking. Miranda scrunched her nose, trying again to figure out what it was before shaking her head.

She’d just casually mentioned wanting to do some fall activities with her fifteen year old cousin Sophia, whom she had gained guardianship of a year ago. They’d recently moved in with Negan, Miranda’s new boyfriend who just so happened to be Sophia’s softball coach and high school gym teacher. To say Sophia wasn’t handling it well would be an understatement. Sure she’d given her blessing and agreed to move in but she wasn’t all that thrilled about it. Her and Negan butted heads constantly and Miranda was just trying to get them to bond however she could.

“It would mean a lot to her. She used to do this kind of shit with her mom and me all the time and if you made an effort--”

“God damn it, I hate when you use the dead mom card.” Negan groaned and turned to look at her. “Fine. Fucking fine. We’ll do your little bullshit fall family shit. But don’t go overboard.” He said and Miranda grinned, stepping on her toes to kiss him. He wrapped his free arm around her, rolling his eyes, and continued cooking. “If you weren’t so fucking cute…” He grumbled to himself, his hand sliding down to squeeze her ass and she laughed.

She’d never admit it but when Miranda told her what she had planned, Sophia’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. Their favorite holiday had always been Halloween so they may have planned a bit more together than they probably should have. Considering Miranda did promise Negan she wouldn’t go overboard. She decided she just wouldn’t drop it all on him at once. He still complained as he drove them to the pumpkin patch a whole town over, adjusting the red scarf he wore around his neck.

“You know there’s a fucking pumpkin patch like five minutes from the house, right? Why do we have to go to this specific one?” Negan griped, fiddling with the radio again.

“Because this one’s nicer.” Miranda said as if it were obvious. He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, finding them a parking spot.

“C’mon Scraps,” Negan said, using the nickname he’d given Sophia ages ago after she got in a fight with another girl at school and came out on top. “Let’s pick us out a good one. I assume we’re gonna be carving these fuckers.” He said, huffing an ‘oof’ as Miranda elbowed him. He of course never noticed the dirty looks from the parents when he opened his big mouth but she did. And there were plenty of kids here.

Sophia sighed and walked ahead of them, taking her sweet time finding the perfect pumpkin. In his defense, he only complained a couple times when she was overly picky about the pumpkin she wanted. “It’s just gonna rot in like a week anyways. What does it matter?” He’d said and she made a face at him and kept looking. They picked out a couple that met her standards and he paid for them. He started walking back to the car when he realized they hadn’t followed. “What?” He asked, turning around to see them looking at a sign.

“I mean… I did say something about hayrides.” Miranda said, smirking over at her man. He stared at her for a minute, trying to decide if she was being serious. When he realized she absolutely was, he sighed.

“Fine. One ride.” He agreed and went to pay for that as well.

“Why’s he gotta be such a grouch?” Sophia asked and Miranda snickered.

“Don’t mind him. He’s just gotta get into the holiday spirit. He’ll come around.” She assured her and wrapped an arm around Sophia’s shoulders, leading her over to the hayride. Negan took his spot, his pumpkin sitting at his feet, with Miranda beside him and Sophia across from them. He ignored the other family that joined them and laced his fingers with Miranda’s without even thinking about it. He didn’t miss the way Sophia rolled her eyes though and he smirked at her.

“What’s a matter, Scrappy?” He teased, throwing a handful of hay at her.

“Asshole!” Sophia gasped, brushing it out of her hair before throwing some at him as he laughed. She cheered as it got in his mouth and he sputtered it out.

“Come on guys…” Miranda sighed, giving the mom of the two boys a sympathetic look for her cousin’s language. They didn’t listen to her though and spent the rest of the ride tossing hay at each other. At least Sophia was finally having a good time.

It was almost worth the annoyed looks from the mom as her boys joined in.

Later that night they set to carving the pumpkins, something Negan apparently took very seriously. “Hey, no! Don’t throw those out.” He complained as Sophia scooped a bunch of the goop out.

“What? Why? What are you supposed to do with it?” She asked Negan, looking at him like he was crazy.

“No, the seeds. Keep the seeds. We’ll roast them later.” He said and started helping her pick them out of her pumpkin mess. Miranda sneakily took pictures of them as Negan helped her draw a scary face on her pumpkin, laughing at the way his tongue poked out in concentration.

“No, he needs more teeth!” Sophia demanded and Negan scoffed.

“He? I didn’t know pumpkins had genitals. Should I give him a dick too?” He asked, getting an elbow to the ribs from Sophia. He merely grinned and added more teeth. He watched protectively as she carved the little blade through the pumpkin for a minute before moving onto his own, turning his gaze to his favorite girl with a warm smile as he decided this wasn’t so bad after all.

A few days later, it was Miranda’s turn to say no.

“Hey, we did you’re fall shit, now it’s my turn.” Negan said over dinner that night.

“Yeah but...a haunted house?” Miranda made a face but Sophia chimed in.

“Yeah, we should go. It’d be cool.” She said, picking up her phone to look up times. She only managed to unlock it before Negan was snatching it out of her hands wordlessly. She sighed, remembering he didn’t like her on the phone at dinner. It was one of the few rules he had in his house that she’d agreed to so long as she could call him Negan instead of Coach.

“Wait, you two actually agree on something?” Miranda asked, her eyes darting between the two of them. She sighed in defeat, not wanting to ruin the moment. It was so rare that they ever were on the same side of things, mostly due to Sophia’s insane need to disagree with everything he said like the good little angsty teen she was. “Fine. We’ll go. But I’m gonna hate both of you for this.”

She watched in amazement as they actually high fived their victory.

They went after dinner that Friday night, all bundled against the cold. Negan didn’t even complain about the half an hour drive out to what he claimed was the best haunted house in the area. Miranda tried to pretend like she was okay but she was nervous about the whole thing. She despised jump scares and that’s ninety percent of the whole haunted house experience. But it was for them and she would endure it.

It wasn’t long before she was clinging to Negan’s arm though, hiding her face against the leather he wore. He of course found that hilarious and goaded Sophia into teasing her too.

“Are you really scared? This is awesome!” Sophia grinned, her eyes lighting up with excitement over all the strategically placed props and monsters. She jumped occasionally but it was usually followed by bubbling laughter as she held Negan’s other arm. She would argue because it was dark and hard to maneuver. Not because she was scared or anything.

“Yeah, seriously Miranda. This ain’t that fuckin’ scary.” Negan laughed. His laughter was cut short, however, as a chainsaw was started up beside them suddenly and he nearly pissed himself as he tugged the girls away. Then they were laughing again.

“God, I hate you guys.” Miranda groaned, her death grip on Negan’s arm only getting worse. They made it through eventually and Miranda breathed a sigh of relief as the fresh, cold air hit them again. She turned to see Negan and Sophia laughing together, gushing over all the shit they’d seen inside.

“Did you see the zombies though? I think that one chick literally didn’t have an arm.” Negan grinned down at the girl.

“Yeah! I saw that. I mean, what a way to make use of an amputation.” Sophia chuckled, practically skipping to the car. “I wanna do my makeup like the girl in the nurse’s outfit. Do you think I could get away with that at school?” She asked, holding a hand up to her neck as she recalled the blood dripping down the nurse girl.

Negan snorted. “Probably not but it’d be pretty badass. Too bad you’re too old for trick or treating.” He grinned and she frowned. “Maybe we could have a Halloween party or something. Something small.” He suggested with a shrug and she lit up.

“Seriously?” She grinned, bouncing in excitement. They spent the entire drive home talking about the gruesome decorations they could put up inside and outside the house. Sophia didn’t even care that she’d be inviting all her friends over to their teacher’s place or think about how weird it might be.

Miranda was so happy they were getting along that she felt the whole terrifying experience was worth it. Even if she hated every second of it herself.

The next night, Negan came home from the store with a lot more groceries than he’d gone in for.

“Did you shop on an empty stomach again?” Miranda sighed, starting to put things away and he chuckled. Last time he came back with way too many snacks.

“You say that like you didn’t indulge yourself and eat half my snack cakes.” Negan teased with a smirk and she shrugged, unashamed. “I walked by the bakery and they had pumpkin pies, which by the way are my favorite. I was gonna get one but homemade is always better.” He said, looking up at her. “I thought maybe I could teach Soph how to bake one.” He added with a shrug, a shred of vulnerability in his eyes that he tried to hide as he put things away.

Miranda blinked, trying not to tear up at how sweet that was. “Yeah, I’m sure she’ll love that.” She said and kissed his cheek.

“You, however, are staying the fuck out of my kitchen.” He said with a smirk and she stuck her tongue out at him.

She didn’t stay out, however, when he had all the ingredients spread out before them. Instead she took pictures with her phone while they were too busy to notice, capturing the serious look of concentration on Sophia’s face as Negan told her what to do.

They did the whole thing from scratch, the crust and all. And of course it was only a matter of time before Negan dotted Sophia’s cheeks with flour. What was surprising, however, was how Sophia just laughed it off and flicked specks of it over his black shirt. Thankfully they didn’t get in a full fledged flour fight that she would have inevitably had to clean up later because frankly they were both slobs. Instead they got back to it and Sophia was the perfect little helper, eating up everything Negan said. It was so unlike any interaction they ever had with each other that Miranda just watched in awe, sending a couple pictures of them to her parents.

The pie, of course, came out amazing. She was surprised they didn’t eat the whole thing right away.

They ended up curled up on the couch with Negan’s next brilliant idea while they ate. “Hey I did say scary movie night, did I not?” He argued when Miranda pouted.

“You know, my ideas for fall fun were way more tame than yours.” She said but allowed it anyways, snuggling into Negan’s side. Sophia was so excited that she didn’t even roll her eyes or comment on the public display of affection like she normally would.

“My mom never let me watch these. I used to have to sneak them over at Enid’s house.” She said, popping the first movie into the blu-ray player.

“Well we’re gonna have to change that. There’s a long list of classic horror flicks we’ve gotta work through.” Negan said, ignoring Miranda’s groan.

“Make sure you do that on nights I have to work, please.” She said and he smirked at her before beginning to scarf down his second slice of pie.

Miranda ended up falling asleep with her head in his lap while they stayed up until three in the morning watching scary movies, laughing at the gore together and making fun of the people and their poor decision making. She woke up to Negan carrying her to bed and tugging off her jeans.

“What time is it?” She muttered, burying her face in the pillow.

“Uhh… almost four?” Negan said sheepishly. “Guess it’s a good thing we don’t have school tomorrow.” He chuckled, climbing in beside her. She blindly scooted over until she was wrapped up in his arms. He kissed the top of her head. “Good night, baby. Hope you don’t have any nightmares.” He teased with a grin.

“Fuck you, Negan.”

A few days later, Sophia came home with a grocery bag herself after spending the day at Enid’s. Negan raised an eyebrow at it, looking up at her.

“What’s in the bag?” He asked skeptically. He took some satisfaction in the way her pale, freckled cheeks turned red as he waited for an explanation.

“Well I umm… I was thinking we could make some good use out of the fire pit out back…?” She suggested, pulling out a bag of marshmallows. Negan couldn’t stop the grin on his face if he tried.

“Fuck yeah, that may be the best idea you’ve ever had.” He teased and got up to get a fire going outside.

“After dinner.” Miranda declared, not even looking up from the book she was reading. Negan pouted.

“Buzzkill.” He grumbled, going to the kitchen instead to cook dinner for them. When it was nice and dark, not to mention chilly, outside, he went out and set it all up. They had a few folding chairs that they set up around the fire and huddled in close to the warmth. It was just cold enough at night but not too much that they were freezing their asses off. “No way Scraps. You want it to be cooked. Nice and brown.” Negan instructed.

“That’s not brown, that’s black. You burnt yours.”

“God damn it.” Negan snapped, realizing she was right. He ate it anyways, nearly burning the inside of his mouth.

“You’re such a mess.” Miranda laughed, seeing the sticky marshmallow caught in his whiskers. She leaned forward, wiping it with her thumb. Of course, he couldn’t help himself even with present company.

“Why don’t you just lick it off, baby?” He said with a smirk.

“Ugh! You’re so gross!” Sophia pretended to gag and threw a marshmallow at him.

“Hey!” Negan complained as it hit the ground. “Don’t be wasteful, Scrappy! If you’re gonna throw them, I better be able to catch it.” He said, tossing one into his mouth. She rolled her eyes and threw another one, this time waiting until he was ready for it. That turned into a competition between the two of them and him teaching her how to properly aim with a marshmallow, stating that “It’s not a fuckin’ softball, Scraps.”

Miranda had to stash a bag of marshmallows on the side so she could eat some for herself.

They did indeed have a Halloween party like Negan promised. Miranda didn’t think he’d be able to get it all set up in time with so little time to plan ahead but he managed. She found that when he was determined he could actually get a lot done. And he was pretty handy.

Plus she had a sneaking suspicion that he really wanted to make Sophia happy and that just made her heart swell.

The house looked great and he let Sophia pick the music, despite his annoyance in her taste. But then she called him old and he threw a pillow at her and Miranda had to separate them again. She helped Sophia with her costume, looking up videos on how to make the creepy throat-slit makeup she wanted so badly. They settled on a dead rock star instead though because Miranda didn’t like the length of the nurse costumes she found.

She and Negan stayed for the party. They’d originally promised to stay out of the way while still keeping an eye on things but the kids kept trying to get Negan to join in on the festivities. He ended up out back with them playing cornhole and teasing the kids for not being as good as him. Sophia didn’t even seem to mind, kind of proud that he blended so well with her friends rather than trying to embarrass her.

“This is going well.” Miranda said as he came back in to make more of the creepy slime colored punch, taste testing it for the thousandth time to make sure no little asshole tried to spike it.

“Yeah. It ain’t that bad.” He said, his eyes sweeping the room again from the kitchen. Miranda thought he was making sure the kids were behaving themselves but then his hand was on her ass, up under the skirts of her dress. “And you look sexy as fuck tonight, did I mention that?” He smirked at her, giving it a squeeze.

“A few times.” She said with a chuckle and pushed his hand away.

“Maybe you could leave the costume on later.” He grinned at her, leaning against the counter.

“You want the fangs too?” She smirked, as if she hadn’t already taken them off earlier. They were more uncomfortable than she thought they’d be.

“Fuck yeah I do.” Negan gave her a quick kiss, swatting her ass as he left the kitchen. He went out back to throw more firewood in the pit but stopped in his tracks, his blood boiling.

It was a strange feeling, something he never encountered before. The closest emotion that he could think of was jealousy but he knew that wasn’t it. No this was something deeper. A kind of anger that he knew he had no right to feel but as he watched Benjamin awkwardly put his arm around Sophia’s shoulders, he saw red.

“You okay?” Miranda asked him, stepping up beside him. He tore his gaze away to scowl at Miranda.

“How long’s that been going on?” He demanded.

“What are you--oh! Well isn’t that cute?” Miranda chuckled as she realized what he’d been looking at.

“Cute? The fuck? That’s not cute. I have half a mind to go beat that kid’s ass.” Negan growled.

“What? No, this is a good thing. Sophia’s been crushing on him for weeks. We’re happy for her.” Miranda tried to reason with him but he wasn’t having it. “What’s wrong? Why are you so upset?”

“Because that boy has his hands on my girl, that’s why.” Negan snapped, mindful enough to keep his voice down.

“Your girl?” Miranda looked at him in surprise, her heart exploding. “Okay, dad, calm down.” She chuckled and took his hand, resisting the urge to smother him. She was dying to know how long he’d seen Sophia like a daughter.

“Whatever. I’m gonna have a talk with that boy.” He decided, fully intending on scaring him off.

“Later.” Miranda squeezed his hand, stopping him from stomping over there and embarrassing Sophia. “Another day. You don’t wanna ruin her party.”

Negan sighed, knowing she was right. Sophia would be so pissed at him if he called out Ben in front of everyone. “Alright, fine. But I’m keeping an eye on them.”

Miranda beamed and hugged him tight, kissing his cheek. She was so in love with this man.

(updated my taglist. If you want on/off let me know)

@alyisdead @ask-kakashihatake @badluckgirl @band--psycho @beautyqueenforbes @blackleatherjacketz @bubbajeffrey @collette04 @daisysouthmoore  @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @genevievedarcygranger @hanaissupergirl   @i-am-negan-trash  @imstonecoldnegan @its-moonblr  @jessiellong1987 @judymosali @kalifornia-born @kayodex19 @letsby @lilantisocialextrovert @lolalexturnerlol  @londoncapsule @lostdarksoul6  @mely010  @mypopurribitch @ne-gans  @negansdirtygirl22   @negans-wife  @negan-the-cat  @negans-network  @prettyepiic @rose8801 @sarcasticrose18 @scarletthart96 @star017 @suddenlycrushed @teamnegansaviors @toxic-ink  @warriorqueen1991 @witchofravenclaw

[storytaeme]

dear santa – taegi

Yoongi knew it was a bad idea to come to this X-Rated Christmas party, especially when he finally encountered Taehyung, your local sexy Santa.

(or the one in which Yoongi has a hard time telling Santa what he wants)

taegi week 2017 – taehyung x yoongi

❅ Prompt: (Spiked) Eggnog

❅ Elements: Fluff, Humor, Smut  |  College AU, Christmas Frat Party AU     ↪ smut includes blowjob scene

❅ Word Count: 8,785 words

❅ A/N: This may be my favorite thing that I’ve written like e v e r. I love taegi, I love Christmas, and I love sexy santa!!!! I hope you enjoy :’>

Honestly, Yoongi should’ve known better than to listen to Namjoon when he invited him out, should’ve known better than to trust his best friend when he said “you’re going to have a great time, I promise” because we all knew how that always ended. It was a Christmas party, he said. It’s going to be fun, he said. No harm, no foul, he fucking said.

Yoongi really should’ve known better than to trust a liar.

“Namjoon,” the elder froze at the door, bundled up in his thick coat, face buried up to his frozen nose in an even thicker scarf. His eyes scanned the building—a frat house, no surprise there. He expected Namjoon, an active in his Beta Tau, to invite him to their Christmas party which was supposed to raise funds for charity. It was a requirement for frats on campus to give back during this festive season, but they never really specified how. So Beta Tau loved testing waters on how far they could go in their activities to get the dough, even if most of them bordered on illegal. This time—Yoongi wasn’t so sure the frat would escape unscathed.

The bass from inside the house pulsed and carried to the chilly air outside. There were a few drunken partygoers already stumbling out on the lawn, one of them pissing, the other doing circles and poking the air. Typical party behavior. Beta Tau was lucky enough to get a house on the outskirts of campus, far away from neighbors who would surely file a noise complaint and have the cops on their asses about the mass substance abuse.

But that wasn’t what Yoongi was concerned about, drugs and alcohol were common, the huge, neon x sign glowing and hanging from the roof was not. “What’s this supposed to be again?” Yoongi turned his gaze to his best friend.

“Uh, a party,” Namjoon said sheepishly.

“What’s the cross doing up there? Doing a human sacrifice later?” Yoongi muttered, “thought that was Easter.”

“Blasphemy,” the taller man laughed, ruffling Yoongi’s hair. See, if Yoongi wasn’t so frozen and decked out in ten layers of warmth, he would’ve smacked his best friend. “But it’s an X-rated Christmas party slash festival. There’s an entry fee and price to all the drinks and activities inside.”

Yeah, Yoongi definitely wasn’t sure anymore if this was legal. Time to bolt.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon whined, hand reaching out to catch his arm.

“Joon,” he snapped right back, “I am not going to your pornhub-themed party. I’ll stick to staying clean without STD’s thanks.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, “It’s not a sex party, hyung. Though—”

“Don’t,” Yoongi interrupted, “I don’t wanna know.”

The younger flashed a dazzling, proud grin, the dimpled one that always had people weak in the knees. However, in that moment, Yoongi could only feel irritation clouding his judgment. “It’ll be fun, I promise. Have a few drinks, first round’s on me. But they’ve got a lot of things going on and it’ll be fun.”

Again, it’ll be fun, he said.

“I don’t think so,” Yoongi muttered, eyeing the door suspiciously. It was closed and he could not even catch a glimpse of what was transpiring inside. Who knew what drunk college kids could be doing? Yoongi was a grad student already, he shouldn’t even be here getting lit with a bunch of undergrads who were still fresh-faced, bright-eyed. Really, he should be at home working on his miserable thesis actually.

“One night, just one night,” Namjoon pleaded, clasping Yoongi’s hands in his. The elder could feel the tremble of his fingers from the bite of the cold and he felt guilty for keeping Namjoon out here for this long when he could be inside downing shots and getting inebriated with the rest of his brothers and friends.

For his sake. Do it for his sake. Yoongi took a deep breath then sighed, “Fine. One night.”

“Yes!” he pumped a victorious fist into the air, “Okay, let’s get fucking hyped.”

The two strolled over to the door and Namjoon opened it up. Almost instantly, Yoongi was drowning in the thick sound of music and chatters that filled his eardrums. He squeezed his eyes shut, wondering how in the world a door opening could change the environment completely. Namjoon was still tugging him down to the man in the hallway who was apparently in charge of selling tickets.

“Friend discount,” Namjoon grinned, eyes twinkling.

“No such thing, hyung,” the kid, puffy cheeks and all, pouted, “I’m already stuck on ticket duty until nine. You know Seokjin-hyung is going to kill me if I give out discounted tickets.”

“Come on, Jimin-ah, for me, for your big,” Namjoon begged again. Yoongi thought the act was disgusting, that Namjoon could never pull off the puppy dog look and make the kid who had a strong resolve in his eyes and even stronger eyebrows cave.

However, Yoongi was once again proven wrong. “F-fine,” Jimin huffed, bottom lip sticking out as he held out an open palm to Yoongi. “Cheaper for you, I guess.” Kid must’ve had a massive crush on Namjoon if he was giving away cheaper tickets even with Seokjin’s threat (Seokjin was terrifying and Yoongi’s learned that the hard way).

Yoongi’s glance bounced over to his friend, “You really going to make me pay for a party that you’re forcing me to come to?”

“For charity,” Namjoon beamed again.

And what heartless soul wouldn’t donate to charity this Christmas month? Yoongi grunted, pulling out a few crumpled bills from his pocket and stuffing them into Jimin’s palm. The boy smiled brilliantly, clasping some sort of paper band (wow, fancy) around his wrist. Beta Tau’s Get Lit for Kids, said the printed words. He could hardly begin to imagine what the children they were donating to would think of their money-making methods. “First shot is free if you flash them that bracelet. Have fun!”

Namjoon tossed a “see you later” over his shoulder before dragging Yoongi into the kitchen area. The frat had been lucky enough to receive one of the biggest houses on campus, allowing them a crazy capacity. They were a pretty popular one, the dean biased them enough, so it shouldn’t be surprising how packed the place was. Yoongi had to squeeze his small body through to get to the makeshift bar they had set up in the cooking area.

“Hoseok!” Namjoon grinned, doing some strange bro-hug thing with a familiar face. Yoongi’s met the guy a few times, liked him enough to tolerate his presence whenever he popped by his and Namjoon’s shared apartment.

“Joon! Yoongi!” the guy laughed, always so jolly. He had put on a santa hat and was decked out in red from head to toe. Very festive. “What’s your guys’ poison for tonight? I’m playing bartender for now, so I can sneak you guys some of the good shit.”

The three of them ended up hanging by the bar a little longer, Hoseok sneaking them extra drinks until Seokjin came around to halt the unspeakable activity. “I can’t believe you both,” the eldest amongst them yanked on Namjoon’s and Hoseok’s ears, “think of the children!”

It wasn’t until Jeongguk stumbled over, tripping over his feet and words, that the night truly began. Yoongi was already a little buzzed, body warm and tingling with the alcohol flowing through his system, eating away at his liver. He could feel himself laughing more, smiling more, and even talking more. He was slowly opening himself up to these people and letting go of all thoughts of his pending assignments. Jeongguk landed on his side, arms wrapping around his waist as he snuggled into his shoulder. Sober Yoongi would’ve shoved the boy off, sort of tipsy Yoongi only laughed and tousled up his hair.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk whined, “you’re so nice and warm.”

“Okay, Jeongguk-ah, you’ve had too much to drink,” Yoongi chuckled. He was somewhat of a mentor to the younger with the kid always chasing him around and asking him questions about composing and producing.

“I just want to fuuuuuck,” Jeongguk moaned, slumping against Namjoon this time, the back of his head hitting hard against the elder’s arm.

Namjoon crinkled his nose, “Life’s not all about fucking, Jeon Jeongguk.”

“That’s what you say because you stick your dick in something every week,” Jeongguk let out another pitiful sound, flailing around. “Think of the poor freshmen who had to go through dry week and miss out on all the parties they could’ve gotten laid in.”

“Okay, well, you’re off dry week. Go and get some,” Namjoon grunted, pushing a glass of water into the boy’s hands. The frat may be reckless, but the brothers looked out for each other. It was something Yoongi always appreciated especially when they were all out of their minds.

Jeongguk held up a finger, swaying as he did so, “One guy. Only one guy I want tonight and he’s not available.”

“Who?” Namjoon asked then paused, “Oh no, don’t tell me.”

“Yes,” Jeongguk cried out in agony, draping himself all over Namjoon, “yes, I’ve finally gotten bitten by the Taehyung bug.”

There was suddenly a blanket of quietness, a collective disappearance of words, over the air as all of them bowed their heads. “A moment of silence for our fallen comrade,” Namjoon whispered, hand over his chest. What the ever loving fuck? Yoongi’s gaze darted between all of them to find them all doing the same thing.

“Uh, is this some cult ritual thing?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk gasped, offended, “you don’t understand. The Taehyung bug is deadly.”

Yoongi nodded slowly as if he understood a thing he was saying. “Who—or what is this Taehyung?”

“Kim Taehyung, junior, nursing major, the cutest piece of ass around here, but also major respect for the guy who still has a 4.0 GPA. He��s fucking fantastic, hyung, like just imagine your dream man but ten times better.”

The elder had never given much thought to a dream man but this Taehyung already seemed impressive judging by how everyone seemed to nodding in agreement.

“And everyone, I mean everyone, gets the Taehyung bug at some point after joining the frat or meeting him. You just have to get it. It’s impossible not to,” Jeongguk explained again, dead seriousness in his voice, “and I thought I could resist, thought that a freshman like me who’s gotten enough dick wouldn’t get it. Immunity and all.”

“Immunity,” Hoseok snorted, “that’s what all you freshies think would work.”

Jeongguk huffed, “I know that now. But anyway, once you cross his path, there’s no going back. Everyone has had a crush on him. You just can’t not.” When Yoongi turned to confirm this statement with the rest of them, everyone—and he did mean everyone—nodded with a deflated sigh.

“So he’s a great guy and he’s cute, but what’s so special?” Yoongi asked, curiosity dripping all too obviously in his voice. So sue him. They were all talking so highly of this one individual that Yoongi wondered how he could have such a widespread effect. Maybe it really was a bug. “Why are you like this now? Thought you could resist his charms.”

“He's—” Jeongguk choked in pain “—he’s Santa.”

Namjoon sprayed out his drink all over the counter, the alcohol burning his throat and causing his eyes to water. “F-fuck, he’s Santa? Are you fucking kidding me?” he gasped, breathing heavily as if he had just ran a marathon, “what idiot—what demon—got possessed to do that?”

“Who else but Seokjin-hyung?” Jeongguk narrowed his eyes at the eldest who smiled proudly, that smugness oozing from his expression.

“Hyung!” Namjoon chided.

Seokjin quirked an eyebrow, “As treasurer, I seek only to bring the biggest amount of profit tonight. With my expectation that you all will be drinking for free and your fulfilling them, I figured the next best thing would be to take advantage of the weakest position. The Santa Seat.”

“Well,” Hoseok cursed, taking a sip of his drink, “I guess I know where I’m spending all my money tonight.”

“You got it right,” Namjoon nodded, pressing his lips together and instantly reaching for his jacket pockets, “I think I have enough for like three rounds on the seat.”

Yoongi, still as perplexed as ever, whipped his hands around to stop all of them from talking too fast, too loud. “Hold up,” he held one palm up in their directions, Jeongguk gave him a high five, he scowled. “Why? What’s this Santa Seat?”

“Thing we have every year but never sells,” Hoseok explained, “it’s really just like a college version of sitting on Santa’s lap.” Before Yoongi could ask what a college version of meeting Santa entailed, he continued, “A very underdressed Santa who will listen to all your drunken and dirty wishes.”

“Why would anyone pay for that?”

“Exactly!” Namjoon smacked his hand on the table, wiggling his index finger in Yoongi’s face. “Nobody, it never sells. We were thinking of getting rid of the segment this year because the booth is always empty, but Seokjin insisted that we could make it work. And now we know why. You demon,” Namjoon growled in the elder’s direction.

The man only smirked, proud. “Told you I would. You should see the line.”

“Still, why would anyone pay for that?” Yoongi pressed again.

“Because it’s Taehyung,” Jeongguk said sternly this time as if that explained everything. “Come see for yourself, I already spent too much there.” He faked a sob before taking Yoongi’s hand. Hoseok waved them away as Seokjin disappeared back into the crowd to manage money flow or so he claimed. Namjoon followed close behind as they disappeared into the living room where there was, as Seokjin had said, a line.

At the very front, there was a single person seated on a velvety red chair. The kid was handsome, sure, wow—in fact, he was beautiful. His face was like a doll’s, skin sun-kissed and smile blinding. His lashes were so long that Yoongi could even see them from this distance. A Santa hat was pulled over his head, leaving a tuft of hair from his bangs in view. However, what was notable was probably the fact that he was wearing nothing more than suspenders and what looked like a pair of red boxers. Yoongi’s eyes traveled further down to find a pair of boots—heeled boots that looked like they would hurt if he ever stepped on Yoongi (not that Yoongi was thinking about that god-like man stepping on him, definitely not).

Jeongguk let out a small sigh, “Isn’t he beautiful?”

“Santa’s taking a five-minute break, everyone!” A guy yelled from up front and there was a combined groan of protest from the audience. Obviously, they’ve all been waiting for a while. The guy—Taehyung—slumped against his seat as his eyes scanned the crowd. He looked tired, but the smile on his face never left. When his gaze finally landed on the trio far off, he perked up, quickly waving at him in excitement.

Namjoon nudged Yoongi forward with his shoulder, “Let’s go. We can talk to him real quick, just no service involved.” Yoongi wasn’t sure he wanted to know what service Namjoon was talking about. They slipped past the people who tossed envious glares in their direction for knowing Taehyung so personally. There were girls and guys and a few costumed creatures Yoongi couldn’t tell. The guy really did have some reputation.

“Hyung! Jeonggukie!” Taehyung brightened, making his way down the carpeted stairs. They had set up a mini stage for the occasion and the guy looked like a fucking model walking down those steps. “And who might this lovely person be?” Taehyung winked at him. Yoongi’s heart skipped a beat.

“Taehyung, I didn’t know you were working the seat,” Namjoon cleared his throat.

The boy hummed happily and playfully punched Namjoon’s chest, “You would if you paid attention during meetings.” Namjoon looked like he had been struck by Cupid.

Taehyung already looked tall from afar, but seeing him up close, standing in those blasted boots, he was even taller. He towered over Yoongi by a good few inches that had him looking up slightly to meet his eyes.

“Anyway,” Namjoon coughed, patting Yoongi on the shoulder, “this is my flatmate, Yoongi, the one I tell you guys all about.”

“You talk about me?” Yoongi sounded baffled.

“It makes for some funny stories,” he chuckled.

Taehyung’s eyes lit up in recognition, “Oh! That Yoongi. I’ve always wanted to meet you. It’s such a pleasure.” Without any warning, the man pulled Yoongi in for a hug. His bare chest felt warm against Yoongi and his bare arms circled his neck. He returned the embrace, albeit stiffly, and gave the guy pats on the back. When Taehyung pulled away, his eyes glimmering, Yoongi wanted to catapult out a window. He was fucking gorgeous. “Namjoon always talks about you, I’m surprised I haven’t seen you around.”

“Uh, grad life and all. I don’t usually go to frat events,” Yoongi said, licking his lips as he suddenly felt his mouth dry up.

“Oh, look at you, all productive. Namjoon said you work at a studio, that’s so cool. You should show me around sometime, I love seeing people at work. It’s so sexy to see someone so professional,” Taehyung wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. Heat crept up Yoongi’s cheeks at his words and he wasn’t even sure why.

“Right, yeah,” he nodded slowly.

Then Taehyung looked sheepish, almost guilty, and it made him feel guilty. “Sorry, I talk too much. People say that a lot, sorry.”

Oh God. Yoongi wasn’t sure what to say, could only open his mouth and close it nervously. He felt awkward enough as it was, but making Taehyung—this seemingly angelic, sweet human being—feel the same way was the last of his intentions. “N-no, sorry, I’m just… bad with strangers at first. I don’t talk that much usually either, you can ask the rest of them. I, uh, think you’re cool, cute too.”

Did he just say Taehyung was cute? Was he already trying to hit on him on the first meeting? Lord take him now. But Taehyung only looked relieved, sighing as the tension left his shoulders. “Thank God, just let me know if I’m rambling, I tend to talk too much when I get nervous,” he laughed lightly, “especially with someone Namjoon-hyung talks so highly of.” Taehyung gave a little giggle that had Yoongi’s heart flipping.

“Are you guys going to join?” Taehyung looked animated then, eyes lighting up, “I’m sure Seokjinnie-hyung wouldn’t mind my giving you a discount if you want to take a seat on my lap.”

“You’re an angel,” Jeongguk said, flinging himself against Taehyung, arms wrapping around the taller boy, “I love you, Taehyungie.”

Taehyung seemed completely unfazed as if this was a regular occurrence, “I love you too, Jeongguk. Now, off you go. I have to get back on duty. I’m so glad that Jiminie is trading with me later—” then his eyes widened “—don’t tell him that yet, he might be pissed when he finds out.”

“Oh, Jimin is doing it too?” Namjoon said with piqued interest. Yoongi noted the surprise and the strange tinge of something else in his voice. Maybe there was something else going on there.

The younger flashed him a smirk, “Mhmm, you should save your money for him instead, hyung.”

Seemed like Yoongi wasn’t the only one who noticed. Namjoon pinked a little and muttered something about “fucking Seokjin” before Taehyung turned to Yoongi. “So, up for a seat in my lap?”

Maybe on your dick too, Yoongi wanted to blurt out but kicked himself mentally for it.  

“I-I’ll get in line then,” Yoongi cleared his throat. Taehyung nodded, giving a little wave from his fingers before bounding back on stage. Yoongi caught a glimpse of that ass Jeongguk was talking about and gulped the lump in his throat.

Jeongguk sighed, shaking his head, “Like I said. Taehyung bug.”

The Taehyung bug. It was real.

Yoongi must be going insane. The line was ridiculous and, at this rate, it wouldn’t be a surprise if Taehyung switched shifts when he was lining up, rendering his queueing thus far pointless. He mentally chided himself for falling for this, for falling for the so-called disease that went around the frat and anyone remotely within five feet of Taehyung.

Up ahead, people were getting antsy waiting for their turn. Girls were squealing and gushing about how cute he was, how he could make all their dreams come true. After seeing what he had, Yoongi didn’t doubt it. Even guys who Yoongi never would’ve pegged to be at a frat party had fallen into the line. It seemed as if this Taehyung was friends with anybody and everybody, a good character to have.

“You look like you’re about to piss yourself,” Namjoon noted in amusement.

“Shut up,” Yoongi muttered, “it’s just weird. It doesn’t feel right being here. Isn’t this like prostitution or something?”

The younger rolled his eyes, punching his arm, “We’re not selling his body, maybe—just his services. And Tae doesn’t mind, he likes talking to people.”

“Kid looks exhausted,” Yoongi said, jerking his chin to where Taehyung sat on his throne, eyes seemingly weary.

Namjoon murmured his agreement, “Well, thankfully, Jimin can take his place soon.” He didn’t sound too thankful about it.

“So what’s going on between you and Jimin?”

The young sputtered, his cheeks turning a deep shade of pink that seemed prominent even in the dim lighting of the room. “N-nothing, he’s my little in the frat, picked him up when he rushed with Tae.”

“Mhmm, bet you love making him feel little,” Yoongi said, a lilt in his voice that indicated the suggestiveness of his words.

Namjoon’s fist dug into his arm again, earning a scowl from the elder. “Stop it, there’s really nothing going on.” Yet. Yoongi could hear him add mentally. He left it at that for now, choosing to let the two progress on their own. “How about you then?” he quickly redirected, “Taehyung bug bite you already?”

It was Yoongi’s turn to get flustered. “What the fuck? No, I just met the guy.”

“Trust me, I’ve seen people fall head over heels before even meeting him. You’re good,” he smirked knowingly.

“He seems cool,” Yoongi coughed, hoping it would put him on safe, neutral ground.

Namjoon nodded, “He’s a great guy, hard to not like him.”

“Uh, so, what’s this seat thing about again? What’re you supposed to say to him?” Yoongi questioned, fingers fidgeting nervously as they moved further forward down the line.

The smile Namjoon gave him left a bitter taste on his tongue. He didn’t like the looks of it. “Whatever you want, but if you do want to get your money’s worth—” he paused, Yoongi’s heart stopped “—you can get Santa to dirty talk you.”

“D-dirty?” the elder choked, eyes blown wide because what in the world? “What kind of—holy shit, is that what everyone is here for?”

“Taehyung’s got a very skilled tongue, just keep him away from your kids because this Santa doesn’t tell cute bedtime stories.”

He didn’t doubt that. Yoongi just wasn’t sure how to feel about a bunch of college kids paying to listen to a guy sexing them up in public. Now that Namjoon has told him what it meant to sit on Taehyung’s lap, he couldn’t miss how every person that picked themselves up afterwards was shaking by the legs and face red to the tips of their ears. Oh lord, he was fucked.

There were two more people ahead of him. He wondered if it was too late to escape—

Namjoon’s hands clamped down on his shoulders, shocking him as all thoughts of a retreat flew out of his mind. “Don’t even think about it, I came all this way for you.”

“You came all this way for yourself, you pervert,” Yoongi scoffed, “if I had known—”

“What? You wouldn’t have gone? You’d miss out on your chance to get to know him more? Aren’t you curious?” Namjoon smirked, knowing full well that his questions did the trick. Meeting Taehyung was already a hook, line, and sinker all in one, and all Yoongi wanted to do was to fall to the bottom of the ocean with him.

A smack to his side brought Yoongi out of his daze, jerking when he looked at the smart ass kid who thought that was a good idea. “You’re up next, buddy, pay up,” the kid, who really had a death wish, stuck his hand out.

“How much?” The number that slipped past the boy’s lips had Yoongi freezing, doing a double take. “That much? What the fuck? How much time do I get?”

“Same as everyone else, now pay up or go,” the guy said way too aggressively.

“Whoa, calm down, Bambam, give the guy some breathing room,” Namjoon frowned, holding a hand up in defense.

“Hyuuuung,” the kid—Bambam—whined, “it’s not fair. I’ve been collecting Taehyung’s money all night. He’s been getting all the girls!”

Namjoon bit back his laughter, mirth still swirling in his eyes, “Alright, I’ll cover for you next.”

“Are you sure? Jimin’s up next.”

At that, the elder’s brows knitted again, “Uh, so?”

Bambam’s eyes darted over to Yoongi for a quick second before returning to Namjoon nervously. “I mean, I don’t want you getting into a fight.”

“I’m not going to—what, why would I even—”

“Guys, who’s up next? I’m getting a bit lonely up here,” Taehyung called out, sticking out his bottom lip. Oh lord. Yoongi reached for more crumpled bills in his pocket and pushed it Bambam’s way before making his way up the steps. Taehyung brightened, his lips curling seductively, “Well, hello, gorgeous. Why don’t you come sit on my lap?”

Yoongi was going to nut.

The elder awkwardly made his way over, gently lowering his butt down and stopping himself from putting all of his weight on Taehyung. However, the other boy had other plans in mind and tugged him down completely so his legs draped over Taehyung’s, dangling on the other side. Yoongi, in that split second of panic, had clutched Taehyung’s—note: exposed—shoulders.

His skin was soft, so soft. Smooth like a baby’s bottom. Yoongi unconsciously rubbed it as if he was attempting to find any signs of a blemish, some sort of imperfection to indicate that Taehyung was real—human.

“Like my shoulder that much?”

Taehyung’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts and the realization of his actions finally dawned on him. Before he could jerk his hand off the boy’s shoulder, Taehyung giggled and pressed his hand down, keeping it in place. “S-sorry,” he cleared his throat.

Min Yoongi didn’t stutter. Min Yoongi was smooth and suave, calm and collected. But why did all the words and letters jumble up in his head when he was around this man?

“Don’t worry,” he grinned, that loud smile on his face again, “I don’t mind. So, tell me, what do you want today? Tell Santa what you want, pretty.”

All these nicknames were going to be the death of him. Yoongi was already expecting a shorter lifespan with the amount of stress he consumed, but Taehyung might just be speeding up the process.

“I, uh, don’t really w-want anything specific,” he said, statement coming out more like a question. Taehyung blinked at him in surprise, lips flattening into a confused pucker. “I mean, you know, I didn’t know what I was signing up for, I was just—was here to support Namjoon, yeah.” That was a good excuse, right?

For a little while, Taehyung only stared at him, bemused. After a few more blinks, he choked on a snort before breaking into a full-blown laugh. That sweet, sweet sound drifted in the air and reached everyone’s ears, prompting all of them to shut up and turn to where Yoongi was settled on his lap. Taehyung rubbed his back thoughtfully, still with tears of joy in his eyes. Yoongi wanted to crawl into a hole.

“Oh my God, you’re so cute,” Taehyung grinned, “didn’t think anyone could be this cute, but I was wrong. Wow, look at you. You’re a real angel, aren’t you?”

“Uh, I hope not.”

Taehyung chuckled again, wiping a stray drop from his eyes. “Wow, so okay, we can just talk, yeah. Tell me about yourself, Yoongi.” He wanted to yelp, surprised that Taehyung remembered his name from a brief encounter—and he had had many encounters today. He wondered if Taehyung remembered everyone’s name like his.

Yoongi needed to pull his head out of his ass.

“Well, I’m a music production major, grad student,” he searched his brain for any other things that would sound cool to say, “I’m—yeah, that’s about it. Uh, I d-don’t really know what else to say.”

Taehyung was still smiling at him, eyes crinkling cutely. “And do you always stutter this much, Min Yoongi?”

Any other person, Yoongi would snap at them and tell them to call him with honorifics. But this was Taehyung so he let it slide. “N-no, not really, I’m usually more eloquent,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

The younger didn’t seem to mind, huffing a laugh as he placed his palm on Yoongi’s thigh. The presence of his hand was a weight, both literally and figuratively, a reminder that Taehyung was real. And also that his hand was really, really close to Yoongi’s growing boner. Fuck.

Taehyung was all smooth skin and gentle smiles. He didn’t notice it before but Taehyung wasn’t even ripped with chocolate abs, he had a soft tummy that protruded ever so slightly. Yoongi liked his men soft. Taehyung was the softest. If you looked up soft and squishy and cute in the dictionary, his picture would be plastered next to each of them.

“So,” Taehyung whispered, voice a little husky, Yoongi’s heart lodged in his throat, “just me then?” He was pretty sure he let out a small squeak. “I make you nervous, Yoongi?” Taehyung’s hand inched higher up his thigh towards more dangerous waters. His free hand cupped the back of Yoongi’s neck to pull him closer.

His heart was thundering in his chest, beating its fists against his ribs like a caveman wanting to break free. “Y-yeah, sort of.”

“Why?” he asked, tilting his head adorably.

“Not sure,” Yoongi admitted, “you’re very pretty, very nice.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Taehyung beamed, knowing that all along but seemed nonetheless pleased. The elder nodded in confirmation. “Mm, that’s so sweet of you. I think you’re pretty too.”

This time, Yoongi was a hundred percent sure he made some sort of incoherent, gargling noise. “Me?”

“Yes, you, baby,” Taehyung said softly, thumb stroking his denim-clad thigh. “And can I tell you a little secret?” He paused for added effect and Yoongi held in his breath. “Out of everyone here tonight, you’re the first to make me nervous.”

He couldn’t even imagine Taehyung ever being anxious over anything. The kid was confident and sweet, generally friendly and easygoing.

“Yo, time’s up, lover boy!” Bambam called then proceeded to get a reprimanding from Namjoon.

Then nervous Taehyung was gone, replaced by the sexy Santa once again. “Well, that’s all for now.”

Yoongi ignored the growing pit of disappointment in his gut. It was stupid. Taehyung was paid to make people feel special—make him feel special. That was what Santa did. With a heavy heart, he nodded and slowly slid himself off Taehyung. His legs felt as if they were going to give out any second. Maybe this was a sign for him to get back on the dating game, his resolve was pretty damn weak if he was this affected by a guy whom he just met. Yoongi bowed his thanks then walked towards the other end of the platform.

But when he was yanked lightly back, he looked back and down at his hand where Taehyung had caught it. He blinked in confusion at the younger who bit on his bottom lip almost shyly. “Don’t leave, yeah? As in, I’m going to be on break soon, I want to talk to you more. I’ll come find you.”

Fuck. Oh no. There went his heart soaring up into a world unknown, hoping for something even more out of his league. “You want to come find me?” Yoongi swallowed thickly.

Taehyung’s lips tipped on the corners. “Yeah, I’ll see you later?” His voice was stained with hope, a little hint of desperation.

Yoongi only managed a nod before he made his way down and the next person took his place. Taehyung was kidding right? This was just him playing the part? There was no way he wanted to talk to Yoongi again. All he did throughout that entire session was stammer and stutter, far from the articulate man that he was. Yoongi could spit fire tracks and drop curses on his rap like there was no tomorrow, but all that bravado disappeared when he faced Taehyung.

“Namjoon,” Yoongi choked when his best friend returned to his side, “I think—I think I’m in love.”

Namjoon laughed, passing over a drink to Yoongi who looked as if he was about to effloresce on the spot from how much he was sweating and shaking. “Taehyung, dude, I told you.”

“He’s getting paid to do this, I shouldn’t—” Yoongi wanted to cry. He tipped back the drink Namjoon had given him, gulping it down to quench the thirst (not the other one, unfortunately). The sweet drink slid down his throat easily, relieving him of some of the tension in his shoulders. He had drank up every last drop.

“Whoa, slow down there, hyung,” Namjoon said, catching Yoongi before he could hit the back of his head to the wall. The two of them were standing in a corner somewhere in the Santa’s Seat room. Taehyung had told Yoongi to stay, he wasn’t sure if the younger had been teasing him, but he did anyway. Shame be damned.

It was then Yoongi realized the sudden burn in his stomach. “Shit, what the fuck did you give me, Joon?”

“Uh, eggnog.” There was a single pause. “Spiked. Hoseok doused it with like tequila.”

“Fuck, Joon,” Yoongi groaned, glaring at the plastic cup, “you know I don’t handle tequila well.”

“Think of it as liquid courage!” Namjoon chirped as if that solved all his problems.

Yoongi directed his scathing look to the other instead, “More like liquid vomit when I toss all of this back up—”

“Hey, guys.” Another voice interjected, that familiar voice, and Yoongi instantly clamped his mouth shut. His back was turned to Taehyung and panic flared in his eyes as he looked at Namjoon for help. His best friend, being the bestest friend, instead grinned with full out dimples and turned Yoongi to face him. Fuck. Taehyung was too close. “Hey,” Taehyung smiled, eyes softening.

Soft, everything was soft. Yoongi really liked soft.

“You waited,” Taehyung said, seeming in a daze.

Yoongi stiffened, “I thought you told me to.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “thanks.” Was that a blush? Taehyung ducked his head a little but then smiled brightly again at the elder, “Do you want to go somewhere quieter? It’s kind of crowded.” Behind him, Yoongi heard complained groans from the people in the line who had been waiting to see Taehyung. Something akin to pride bloomed in his chest because now he had Taehyung all to himself. And he had a little bit (a lot) of spiked eggnog too, which as Namjoon had said given him a pinch of valor.

The elder licked his lips and nodded, “Yeah, sounds great.”

“My room’s just upstairs,” Taehyung suggested then paused, eyes blown wide, “n-not that we have to go there! My room’s just quieter so I thought—”

“Good,” Yoongi stopped him, “your room’s good.”

“Aw,” Namjoon cooed, “look at you—”

Yoongi feigned shock as he turned to the stage, “Joon, is that Jimin stripping for Santa Seat right now?”

“Bitch, what,” the guy was too easily maneuvered and Yoongi took that chance to catch Taehyung’s hand and pull him out of there.

Taehyung stepped ahead when Yoongi gestured for him to lead the way. With a huge grin, the younger pulled him up the stairs and down a hallway past pairs making out and to one of the doors labeled with Taehyung and Jimin’s names. He clicked the door shut behind him then watched as Yoongi looked around the room, observing every inch of the boy’s tidy space.

“You can, um, sit on my bed,” Taehyung said, patting the spot next to him where he had settled. Yoongi wanted to knock his head against a wall, but chose to accept the boy’s offer instead. They sat in the deafening silence for a few moments, Yoongi internally screaming at himself to say something and ease the awkwardness. “So, how’s school?”

He choked a little, surprised by how general the question was.

“Sorry,” Taehyung bit his bottom lip again, “I’m really bad at small talk. I don’t—I’m not very good with strangers.”

Yoongi let out a small scoff, “You’re very good. I don’t even know how you manage to talk to everyone so easily like that. On the seat or meeting me earlier, I’m just—I’m impressed. That’s really good.”

“Let me correct that,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “I’m usually okay with strangers but you make me really nervous.”

“Me?”

This felt like déjà vu. “Yeah,” the younger affirmed softly, blushing a little, “you just seem really cool and nice. I don’t want to scare you off. I tend to be a little overwhelming at first glance.”

His nervous chuckle had Yoongi’s heart pinching. How in the world anyone could tell Taehyung that was beyond him. Yes, the boy was surely enthusiastic, but it was something Yoongi admired.

“No, God, no, I’m not cool at all,” Yoongi stumbled, “I’m pretty lame actually.” Cue his nervous laugh.

“Can I kiss you?” Taehyung suddenly asked quietly. That question came out of the blue, pulling all the words out of his head and into a scrambled mess. Yoongi was silent, unsure of what to say because this was so surprising and he never expected Taehyung to even consider kissing him. “Sorry,” Taehyung said, breathing out, “sorry, that was weird. We just met. S—”

Yoongi clamped a hand over his mouth, “Stop apologizing. It’s fine. It’s kind of weird but I don’t mind. I—I kind of want to kiss you too.”

Even with half his face covered by Yoongi’s palm, Taehyung’s expressive eyes glowed hopefully. Slowly, he pulled his hand away and placed it over Taehyung’s on the bed. The younger looked mildly taken aback by the gesture, but offered a small smile in return. He leaned forward and Yoongi followed his lead, shifting closer until their shoulders bumped and arms touched. The younger felt warm against him, radiating the heat of a comfortable summer day.

When their lips touched, Yoongi sucked in a breath. They were so soft, just like Taehyung himself. Their lips molded together, moving and shifting in sync. The elder could hear his heart thrumming in his veins, a rhythmic thumping that dulled the sound of the party outside, dulled the rustling of sheets underneath them as Taehyung pressed himself closer. They turned their bodies, Taehyung shifting to crawl atop the elder and straddle his lap.

He breathed heavily, searching Yoongi’s eyes, “I-is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi ignored the racing of his heart of Taehyung looking so soft and pliant in his hands. The younger, despite being inches taller, shrunk into himself as he leaned forward again to join their lips. It was as if they were attached at the seams, Taehyung’s hands running over Yoongi’s broad shoulders, Yoongi’s sliding up and down his back before moving to cup the boy’s ass. Taehyung tensed a little at the touch and he immediately reacted to pull his hand away.

However, the other boy quickly stopped him, putting his hands back where they belonged. “Keep them there, I like it.”

Yoongi opened his mouth to respond but before he could, Taehyung kissed him again, harder this time as a moan slipped past his lips and into Yoongi’s. His breath hitched in his throat at the action and his fingers tightened around Taehyung’s pert behind. “You’ve got such a nice ass,” he grunted against his lips.

Taehyung giggled cutely, noses brushing against each other. “Why, thank you, glad you appreciate it.”

“Wanna appreciate it up close,” Yoongi muttered absentmindedly and Taehyung let out an audible choke. “That was supposed to go in my head, not out loud.”

“I’d love it if you appreciate it up close,” he grinned again, a devilish gleam in his eyes this time, “but—” he licked his lips “—how do you feel about my sucking you off?”

Yoongi stiffened, pulling away to quirk an eyebrow at him. “What? Like right now?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “I’m guessing you’re clean.”

“Yeah but—”

“Great!” Taehyung chirped, clapping his hands together and bounding off the elder’s lap. “So, yes?”

Yes, yes, a million times yes? A blowjob from the cutest guy on campus who everyone fell in love with? Sign him the fuck up. “Yeah, yeah, that would be nice.”

Taehyung chortled, sinking down to his knees and rubbing his hands up along Yoongi’s skinny thighs, fingers deftly unbuttoning his jeans. He popped it open and pulled his zipper down, exposing the tiny sliver of his boxers where his bulge was poking out. Fuck, he was already hard. How?

“Wait, Taehyung, are you sure? I don’t want to like pressure you,” Yoongi coughed, feeling his cheeks flame.

The boy on the floor gave him a look, “Dude, I legit asked you if I could suck you off. I’m definitely sure.”

“O-okay,” Yoongi stuttered. He wanted to say more, but all of his neurons fizzled out the second Taehyung pressed his hot tongue against the fabric-covered swelling between his legs. A curse escaped his lips as he twisted his fingers in the blanket.

Taehyung started mouthing at it as he pulled Yoongi’s jeans down with the elder instinctively assisting him by lifting his hips up. The younger’s hands were warm on his thighs, the tanned skin a beautiful contrast against Yoongi’s pale one. His lips closed in around the thickness, tongue pushing down wet and heavy. He was so sensitive already, whining at how good the heat of Taehyung’s mouth felt around him.

Then, as if Taehyung was on a mission to surprise him further, with his teeth catching the hem of his boxers, pulled the fabric down until his cock sprung free. God, he was embarrassingly hard. So damn hard. Taehyung hadn’t even properly put his mouth on him yet—oh fuck.

He did. Taehyung’s fingers wrapped around the length, fitting it snugly in his palm, as he dragged his tongue up from the base to the tip before taking the pulsating head into his mouth. The heat and moisture that enclosed around his stimulated cock was more than enough to catapult Yoongi further into the blinding pleasure. Fire streaked through his body at the sensation, like a burning heat that licked up his skin.

Taehyung took him in deep quickly, pushing the entire length past his tight lips. He bobbed his head up and down on the shaft, fingers twisting around the remaining skin that he couldn’t fit down his throat. Then he popped it free, shifting somewhat downwards to nibble his way up Yoongi’s inner thighs. His teeth grazed on the pale skin, blooming prints of purples and blues that would surely last a while to mark his presence. Taehyung seemed to be having the time of his life, taking his time to nose his way back up to Yoongi’s cock.

Then he paused, staring for a second and making the elder fidget a little. Taehyung’s eyes flicked up to meet Yoongi’s before he dived back down, tongue darting out to swirl right around his balls. Yoongi jerked his hips up, surprised, and let an unattractive gasp escape his throat. Taehyung chuckled in amusement, but the rumble of his chest only worsened what already had Yoongi holding onto the edge of his pleasure.

“So sensitive, hyung,” Taehyung giggled, stroking his cock as he sucked one of his balls into his mouth. His lips closed in tight and tongue pushed up against the skin. All Yoongi could feel was heat, heat, heat. There were flames before his eyes kissing his skin with every one of Taehyung’s touch searing, imprinting, onto him.

Taehyung’s name left his lips in a breathless pant. “Fuck, just like that, that feels so—hng, so good, baby.” The pet name had Taehyung whimpering, mouth full of Yoongi. He swept his tongue in long, wet strokes around his balls, then—fucking shit— “holy fuck, r-right there. Oh fuck, that feels so damn good.” Taehyung flicked his tongue fast and hard down that one line of his balls that had him squeezing his eyes shut, mouth parted and lips quivering.

He was quickly pulling Yoongi to the edge, luring him in with that serpent-like tongue of his. It was as if Taehyung had filled him with this addicting drug that had his body’s temperature rising, sweat beading his face, as he tried to hold himself back. It’s been a while since he’s gotten a good blow, yeah, but this was too fast. Too embarrassing to show Taehyung.

But it felt too damn good.

His breaths came out in short puffs as his fingers made their way to Taehyung’s hair and the strands were as silky as he imagined them to be. Taehyung was still fervently working on his balls, which in turn had his cock hardening even more with the stimulation. He had the enthusiasm, that’s for sure.

However, Yoongi couldn’t have been more relieved when he finally brought his mouth back onto his dick. His pretty, pink lips stretched around the bulbous head and sucked it in. He hollowed out his cheeks and dipped his head over and over to take him in. Every time he pushed Yoongi’s cock down his throat, he went deeper and deeper. Yoongi wasn’t even sure if the kid had a gag reflex when he was sucking cock like a champ. Then he swallowed—he fucking swallowed—around his dick and the sudden pulsation had Yoongi groaning in sheer satisfaction.

“Holy shit, holy shit,” Yoongi choked, tightening his hold on Taehyung’s hair. The boy loved that so he did it again, and Yoongi tugged harder on his locks, which prompted a whimper bubbling up from the younger’s throat that Yoongi absolutely loved.  

“Fuck, you taste so good,” Taehyung moaned and stroked the length again, darting out his tongue collect the drop of precome that had leaked.

“Such a good boy, Taehyung,” the elder murmured as he tilted his head back again, relishing in the pure, unadulterated lust that coursed through his system. The feeling was addicting, electrifying, had his entire body buzzing with thrill. “You take cock so well, baby.”

Taehyung whined quietly, “Y-you should see my ass take cock next time.”

Fuck, fuck yes. “God, yeah, I want that. Next time, baby.”

“For now,” Taehyung grinned, winking up at him, “you’ll have to settle for my mouth.” Then Taehyung suckled on the tip, slurping on it as if it were his last meal. He sucked on the slit to savor the stray drops that oozed out.

Yoongi could feel himself getting closer and closer, his breath catching in his throat every time he did so. However, he was sent tipping over the edge when he opened his eyes and looked down to find Taehyung staring right back up at him. His pupils were dilated, watching Yoongi’s reaction and flushed face carefully, and his gaze clouded over with devious contentment. But the prettiest sight was his lips surrounding his cock, mouth so full of Yoongi’s dick he looked as if he was about to combust.

“Shit, Tae, I-I’m gonna come,” Yoongi stammered, pulling Taehyung off of him. The younger nodded obediently and instead circled his fingers around the shaft again, stroking it hard and fast. He tugged on it just enough to have Yoongi bowing in the absolute force of his pleasure bending him to its will. It wasn’t long before he was spilling all over the boy’s hands, thick white spurts covering his thighs and Taehyung’s digits. Yoongi was practically heaving, he wanted to cry from how good that release was even when Taehyung was still milking him dry, the younger boy’s eyes staring in mesmerization at the head still pouring out his come.

When Yoongi was finally (took him long enough, holy fuck he came a lot) finished, he quickly let the humiliation settle in his gut as he reached for a tissue to wipe himself up. “Sorry,” Taehyung said with no remorse whatsoever in his voice and instead eyes glimmering with delight, “I don’t swallow on the first date.”

“Y-you’re good,” Yoongi choked, pulling his boxers up again. Then his gaze darted over to Taehyung and the prominent bump in his own boxers. “Uh, do you want me to help? I can.”

“Not tonight,” Taehyung grinned, “come cuddle with me.”

“Cuddle?”

Yoongi regretted his words almost immediately when the light in the boy’s irises dimmed. It was as if the elder could see the disappointment bearing down on his shoulders like a visible burden. “O-oh, I mean—”

“Cuddling is good,” Yoongi blurted out, licking his lips anxiously, “I’d like to cuddle.”

“Yeah?” Holy shit. If Yoongi could do one thing for the rest of his life and only one thing, it would be to keep Taehyung’s eyes illuminating that way.

The two of them huddled up together on the single bed, Taehyung’s arm draped over Yoongi’s waist and Yoongi’s arm awkwardly placed under Taehyung’s head with the younger’s insistence. Despite the stiff positioning and the certainty of his waking up with a dead arm, Yoongi didn’t find himself minding it all that much.

Taehyung whispered as if he was telling a secret, “What’re you thinking about? You’re awfully quiet.”

“I’m usually this quiet,” Yoongi muttered, slightly flustered by how intensely the other was staring at him.

“You seem like you have a lot of thoughts you keep to yourself.”

Yoongi looked visibly startled by Taehyung’s statement, by how daring and how true it was. He pressed his lips together, unsure of what to say. “I mean—I don’t really like to spill it out. It’s just… thoughts after all.”

“Is it selfish that I kind of want you to share those thoughts with me?”

Gulp. “Uh, no offense, but we literally just met.”

Taehyung giggled, scooting closer, “I know. But I just have this feeling, you know. That like gut instinct that’s telling me that I’m going to like you a lot, Yoongi. And I think, maybe, you’re going to like me a lot too.”

In that moment, Yoongi thought that Taehyung was a little bit strange, a little bit sweet, and a little bit too bold. But he hadn’t known then that Taehyung would be 100% right.

BONUS:

“You know,” Taehyung started, muffling his voice in Yoongi’s thick sweater. His boyfriend was warm and cuddly in the woolen piece Taehyung had gifted him for Christmas. “When I met you a year ago, I already knew about you—already knew I wanted to meet you.”

Yoongi cocked an eyebrow, arm still snug around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Really? How so?”

“Namjoon kept talking about you,” Taehyung let out a small giggle, “I thought you were really cool but he didn’t want to introduce me to you, thought I’d scare you off. I kept begging him to let us meet, but he didn’t agree until I bribed him with Jimin.”

Whipped fucker. That guy was head over heels then for someone who was basically Taehyung’s twin. Yoongi couldn’t judge though, not when he was so far up Taehyung’s ass, both figuratively and sexually, he couldn’t see straight most of the time. “Can’t believe him,” he muttered under his breath.

“So, Santa Seat was perfect for us, don’t you think?”

“Cute,” Yoongi chuckled, “glad I met you, Santa.”

“Me too, baby, me too.”

[sad-af1121]

Magnets (One-shot)

Summary: What could possibly be the best way to let someone know some exciting news? You went with an easy plan in such a short amount of time but you wanted to cherish the moment with Bucky, even if it was cheesy. At least you’d have a story to tell your firstborn and how exactly it went down.     Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader  Word Count: 1825 Warnings: FLUFF A/N: Credit to @ruby-white-rabbit for the cute hc. Thank you, dear! Feedback is welcomed 💜

The sweet and strong taste of green tea flooded your mouth as you take a sip to wake yourself up. The earthy fluid rested on your tongue, awakening some of your senses.  Caffeine was a dire need now, especially if you had to wake up this early for what you planned about 24 hours ago. You couldn’t have your usual expresso due to well… you being pregnant. It was only yesterday when you found out about the exciting yet frightful news. You told yourself this was good. More than that.

This was a new beginning.

And honestly, it sucked ass that you couldn’t indulge in caffeine because you couldn’t go a day without it. Yes, you were more productive and lively when you drank a couple of cups throughout the day. But you didn’t want to risk intaking too much for the sake of the little bundle of joy you were soon going to have.

You were sitting on the couch watching Friends when you had the sudden impulse to puke. It ran itself up your throat before you emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl. Relief washed over you once you made it to the bathroom, sweat resting on the top of your brows. Just in time too or else you would had used Bucky’s combat boot as a waste bin again.

He wouldn’t have been too pleased about that. It could explain the other times you got drunk and used his favorite pair to do exactly that. He obviously forgave you, but he kept his shoes hidden whenever you got to that stage. That taught him a lesson too: not to leave his things lying around or else bad things might happen to them.

Aka they’re shit out of luck.

You thought back to the food you ate the night before. Maybe the buffalo wings you ordered from that sketchy restaurant were bad? It’s not like you haven’t had them before; they were your lazy food whenever you didn’t feel like cooking for the night. And on those nights Bucky wasn’t home. Missions and paperwork kept him busy for most days out of the week, so you didn’t have to worry about his strict diet guidelines he set for you. So what you like eating fries dipped in chocolate sauce. It tasted so fucken good to you.

However, Bucky refuted that. Telling you ‘you should eat foods to fuel your body. Not to fill it up with nonsense things.’ You just agreed and ate food that were good for you. But hell, it didn’t stop you from having cheat days.  

You stared at yourself in the mirror. The color of your skin lost its beautiful warmth, the awful taste in your mouth made you queasy and the slight pain in your tummy troubled you. It wasn’t too bad, it was bearable. The soft chill of the Fall season didn’t raise any questions to catch the common flu or cold, so it was hard narrowing down the source.

Your face scrunched in thought before the light bulb in your head went off. Mother Nature didn’t visit you last month and it was starting to look like she wasn’t going to come this month either, making you smack your forehead with frustration. Quickly, you laid out about three pregnancy tests (thank god Wanda gave them as a gag birthday gift), and peed on them, waiting for the results. Those 5 excruciating minutes had your nerves wrecked and your heart almost gave out with the tension you built inside your head. Whether or not Bucky would be happy was a constant thought. It wasn’t like you two hadn’t talked about having kids.

Because he wanted them. Badly.

Your body was under utter stress, screaming with anxiousness as you shut both eyes, exhaling deeply before opening one eye to peak at the tests. Your vision wasn’t that great, especially since you were about 3 feet away from lines that are smaller than the size of a rice grain. Stepping closer, and opening both eyes, you looked down on the counter as they widened at the double lines on each test, informing you that you’re pregnant. Every emotion possible danced inside of you and you didn’t know what to do next.

Squealing with joy, you ran out the bathroom to call Bucky home, but you stopped in front of your phone, wanting this moment to be special- something to remember when thought back to. Thus, you called Wanda. And boy was she jumping up and down like a five-year-old. You could have sworn you lost your hearing with her shriek of enthusiasm and cheerfulness. You two gossiped about how excited you were, discussing a plan to tell Buck that you were carrying his child.

And here you are, setting the little box filled with children’s alphabet magnets on the comforter of the bed as you carefully sit on your knees beside Bucky’s metal arm. You could have gone with a better way of telling him, but you wanted your husband to know as soon as he woke up. His hair was disheveled, covering most of his face. You brush his chestnut locks out from his eyes, smiling down at his peaceful state. Leaning in, you place a chaste kiss on his forehead. Bucky sucks in a breath, making you still in that position, your lips just inches away from him. You were afraid to move because he might wake up and ruin the little plot. But he simply turns onto his side, giving you a better access to his arm.

“This better fucking stick.” You assertively murmur under your breath before placing the letters onto his arm, releasing a breath of hope as they adhere to the metal. These were cheap magnets and you were content that they worked. After about 15 minutes of perfecting each character on his arm, your eyes roam over to his alarm clock that was about to ring in 30.

“Shit!” Hissing, you hurry off the bed, pushing the little box under as you rush out the bedroom to leave for work. Thank goodness you got ready beforehand or else Bucky wouldn’t have let you go after finding out. Grabbing your bag and keys, you run out your apartment, the foolish grin on your face never leaving as you made your way to your car then work.

Humming in his sleep, Bucky’s eyes flutter open, lids heavy with slumber as he groans. “Baby?”

He calls out to you, only meeting silence in return. He gets the idea that you left for work like usual, nothing in his head to facetime you later to see your beautiful face. Bringing his flesh hand to his eyes, he rubs away the remaining of his sleep, narrowing his sight at the clock before shutting off the alarm the second it began to ring. Smirking, he turns over again, pulling the covers up to his neck as he snuggles with the fresh cotton before tensing when his phone rings throughout the quiet home.

“Jesus Christ.” He growls, throwing the blanket over to reach for his phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, buddy. We need you down at the tower, like now.” Clint informs, nodding over to Steve as he walks beside him. “We got new recruits and you and Cap need to do some early training with them. Orders from Fury.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky stares at the ceiling, irritation laced in his tone. “I need to shower -”

“You can shower here. Now get your ass up. See you soon.”

“I- Hello? Did he just hang up on me?” Bucky scoffs, eyeing the phone with disappointment before tossing it to the side. He gets out of bed, his feet weighing a ton as he drags them across the wooden floors. Exhaustion resided inside him, but duty calls.

After using the toilet and splashing cold water on his face, Bucky walks out, quickly grabbing his jeans and a new t-shirt before slipping those on. Within a short time, Bucky’s out the door, throwing his jacket over his shoulders before getting in his car and driving to the tower.

The usual elevator ride to the gym wasn’t anything exciting. He wondered what he would have to do today when he’d get free time to himself, or if his mind would mess with his day. He could only hope and pray.

The elevator grabs his attention as the steel doors open, the sounds of grunts and groans coming from the distance as Bucky makes his way to the locker room. There, he’s greeted by Clint who happens to be changing out of his training clothes.

“I thought we were training the newbies?” Bucky asks, pressing his flesh thumb onto the padlock of his locker as it turns from red to green.

“Nope. I said you and Steve were. I just got done working out. Got a mission later with Nat.” Clint informs, stuffing his boxing tape inside his locker before shutting it. “Besides. You guys are great history teachers too.”

Just then, Steve enters, chuckling at Clint’s words. “Really, Barton?”

Bucky huffs, shaking his head as he pulls off his coat and hangs it on the hook. “That joke’s old.”

“Yeah, like you.” Clint snorts, making Bucky turn slowly in a creepy yet terrifying manner. His fists clench by his sides as his nostrils flare with anger. But both Clint’s and Steve’s widened eyes and surprised expression cause confusion.

“What.”

“Your arm man.” Clint chuckles with excitement. Bucky looks down before interrupted by Steve.

“Congratulations!” Steve beams, wrapping Bucky in a bone-crushing embrace.

“What?” Bucky asks again, harsher than before. Steve pulls away, grabbing Bucky’s metal arm and showing him the magnets that spell out “u r a dad.”

“Wh-what.” Bucky stares at the magnets, his features turning light. His heart is racing and thudding incredibly fast to the point where it feels like it might give out. He re-reads the words, processing the information before seizing his phone from his back pocket, face-timing you.

Ring, ring, ri-

“Heeeeeey.” You grin, taking in Bucky’s flabbergasted expression as a hint. He knows.

“H-hi… Magnets? Really?” He laughs out, taking a seat before his feet decide to give out from under him. He had millions of emotions coursing through him right now.

“Yes!! I only had 24 hours.” You playfully pout, giggling as the butterflies return in your stomach.

“I love it... I love you.” Bucky blurts, laughing louder as he looks around the room. He can feel the tears forming in his eyes but he’s holding them back, knowing he needed a private moment with you. “Get your things. I’m coming down there. Can’t believe I’m going to be a dad!”

“No Buck. Stay- Jesus Christ, he hung up on me.” You chuckle breathlessly, leaning back in your seat.

You should have waited for the weekend because there was no way he’s going to let you out of his sight from now on.

Goodbye cheat days. 

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(permanent tag list is open/ also tumblr won't let me tag a few of you. I apologize.) 

[thelostandforgottenangel]

Christmas Kisses

@devilsnevercry1388

He didn’t know how he was going to get through today; they had left hours ago for patrol with no action what’s so ever the entire night coming home to find the lair decorated brightly.

Mikey had mischievously hung mistletoe up a few days before teasing them lightly every time somebody would step under them but he wasn’t in the mood to deal with this time of year; Christmas was cool and everything but he wasn’t into the cheerful decorations, the expectations, and sappy music. You add in Michelangelo’s energy and his need to over-do the holidays, and well there was going to be more than one chance to kill someone

“What’s all this?”

Leonardo was the first to step further into the den looking around laughing when he saw the sparkly decorations that seemed of cover the room were thoughtfully placed; there were lights hung around the doors and ceiling bringing a glow across the area, a giant tree standing in the middle of the room half decorated with several strands of colorful lights with a small box on the floor next to it that had a few of their throwing stars with wire wrapped around them into a small hook

“MIKEY! Did you do this?”

He shook his head moments before the door in the dojo opened and April was climbing down the ladder with a backpack over her shoulder before they heard a loud giggling

“Hey kid slow down or your gonna-”

“Can’t catch me Case- Shit!”

They looked up in time to see their little sister skidding to a halt waving her arms trying to stay balanced on the edge of the drop before she tumbled over, Raph moved quickly catching her before she could land on the ground seeing her eyes fly up to meet him with a small smile as he landed back on the ground feeling his face heat up when he saw her shirt had been pulled down “Raven what did we tell you about being careful? Did you recently grow a shell that can save you from breaking your back?” she grinned at Leo who moved closer to scold her nuzzling closer to Raph 

“I was in a hurry to get back before you guys. Besides I think I landed that perfectly” the sarcasm in that one statement instantly had Raphael rolling his eyes laughing before she winked up at him; he looked at the others making sure nobody was staring at them setting her down quickly seeing the bag she had dropped on the ground that her was hurrying to gather up the colorful fabric from the floor stuffing them into the paper bag before bolting into the living room.

They watched as she set her stuff on the couch before her and April started finishing with the tree, the guys all retired to their rooms after a few minutes of looking around, Raphael and Casey passed out on the couch watching some show that was playing

~ ~ ~ 

Raphael shifted waking up to the sweetest sounding alarm of Raven’s giggling, looking up to see her and April laughing hysterically snapping a picture of Casey who was passed out next to him on the couch and was now sporting an array of bows on his head with two placed perfectly on his buff chest.

He couldn’t help but smile when the girls realized they had been caught grinning at him before they ran off towards the kitchen hiding as Casey stirred looking around for a moment before getting up to head for the bathroom.

He started to get up when he saw the blanket he had made Raven wrapped around him to keep him warm deciding to sit there for a bit longer until he glanced around seeing they had finished decorating while he was knocked out and an assortment of colorfully wrapped packages under the tree

“Why did ya destroy the lair? We already told Mikey he couldn’t do this kid”

Raven’s face appeared next to him looking a little sad as she glanced around; he didn’t like seeing her upset and instantly softened the look on his face so she might think he was just teasing her “You don’t like it? This is the first year I get to do it for our family Christmas Eve party and I wanted it to be a surprise. Besides I asked dad and he said it was fine as long as I didn’t touch the dojo or the ha’shi... and left your rooms alone”

Leo walked down the stairs looking around smiling when he saw the colorings that were randomly placed around the den “Looks great Raven, you and April really outdone yourselves” the teen beamed as Mikey and Donnie made it down stairs more or less awake and just in time for Casey to walk through the den again causing her brothers to burst into laughter seeing the lair wasn’t the only thing the girls had decorated, April jumped in next to him as he flexed for a final picture before he was removing most of the bows leaving the ones on his chest before she was handing them each a hot chocolate made the way they liked

He had to admit it did look good even if it was slightly over done in his opinion but he couldn’t tell her that, they were all admiring the tree that was now fully decorated other than the angel which Raven needed a lift to reach, he was more than happy to help when she glanced over at him pointing for some assistance, giggling when he tickled her side.

He couldn’t help but notice how happy she seemed to be the rest of the day

She was heading for the kitchen a few hours later before Mikey burst into laughter shoving Raven closer to Leonardo making her trip falling against their older brother as he caught her wrapping his arms around the teen’s waist to steady her “Kiss it up brah. Mistletoe rule says whoever is caught under it has to kiss the girl” the blue masked turtle looked above them with a sour face not to amused with his baby brother’s mischievous antics

“Really! I thought I took all of those down. Where do you keep getting this crap-?”

Raven glanced up at Leonardo who rolled his eyes about to say something more before she tapped him on the shoulder leaning up on the tips of her toes pulling his face down to her giving him a quick kiss on the cheek beaming when Mikey groaned calling them party poopers knowing that would hold him off for a bit while Raven got dinner ready and Raphael got some piece and quiet to get caught up on the football game; but for some reason he was feeling a small bit of anger that Leo got a kiss from the teen before shaking the thought away flipping to the channel the game was on

He was enjoying the quiet and the new aroma of food that filled their home before Raven was leaning over the couch waving a beer in front of his face and setting down a bowl of snacks next to him

“Thanks kid, wanna watch the game with me? It’s getting good” his heart jumped as she gave him one of those grins telling him in a minute when she got done before returning to the kitchen.

He was still hanging onto that smile when it was interrupted as Mikey cornered April and Casey under another patch of mistletoe, it ended in her walking off after Mikey offered to take Casey’s place.

It wasn’t long after that he heard a commotion behind him “Get away!” he turned to see Casey stealing a fast kiss from both Raven and April getting a high pitched squeal from the shocked teen before he was running jumping over the couch ducking as one of the throwing star decorations whizzed past his head sticking into the wooden entertainment center a few inched from Casey’s head as Raven growled crushing the bunch of paper towels in her clenched fist “Jones you ever kiss me again and I’ll beat you black and blue – and next time I won’t miss”

He saw the human man duck down shaking his head “Danm she’s scary” the turtle had started to say something when he caught a glimpse of the small amount of pink that crossed over her cheeks when her eyes met his seeing the nervous look as she walked off before he leaned forward keeping his voice low  growling under his breathwith his warni

“Ya touch 'er again Jones she won’t be the one ta beat ya to death“

Raphael was about to turn back around seeing his words had the human man when he saw Mikey sneaking up behind their little sister who was busy mixing several bowls of what he could only guess was cookie dough and brownie mix hearing her shriek as he snatched her up placing the bowl on the table “Mikey stop... let me down I’ve got food in the oven I have to check”

“I’ll put you down in a minute baby girl”

His younger brother grinned pointing up to yet another bundle of the annoying plant he had strategically placed throughout the place, he had to look away as she smiled shaking her head slowly leaned forward giggling giving him a small kiss on the cheek like she had done to Leonardo hearing Mikey groan “Aww come on babe that’s all your gonna give the turtle of your dreams!”

“Mike – if you wanna eat tonight I have to cook” he sat the teen on the floor sulking away and again he felt that pang of jealousy that another person had gotten a kiss from the beautiful teen before he ever realized the thought was there again, he checked above him making sure there was nothing over his seat before becoming focused on the game once more.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“You’re next Donnie”

he should have known the silence wouldn’t have lasted as another 

“Mikey this is ridiculous. Do you have any idea how many germs are spread in one kiss? A ten-second French kiss can spread 80 million bacteria between mouths”

“Dude it’s not that bad brah. Besides you’re not French kissing anyone since none of you are any fun” they all rolled their eyes trying to ignore Mikey as he walked off heading to his room “All of you are ruining all my fun”

Raven brought a plate of fresh cookies over to the couch where April and Casey had joined Raphael to watch the game looking nervous as Mikey strode into the room looking to see where everyone was waiting until the teen was focused on the play for just a second running up planting a kiss on Raven’s cheek making her fall over the couch landing on the floor when she had become startled.

She laid there for a while looking up at the ceiling seeming absolutely exhausted; her colorful apron covered in flour and chocolate “Raven if you want I can start helping again. You look like you could use a break” she was smiling again trying not to say a word

April leaned forward but the massive turtle was already up kneeling beside her, helping the kid up seeing she was worn out and looked to have not gone to bed yet as she rolled over glaring up at Mikey who bolted for the kitchen

“Mikey, stay out of there! Don’t touch the cookies on the counter - No Mikey!” she was already on her feet jumping over the couch her fingers brushing his shoulder lightly chasing after the youngest turtle before he bolted into the kitchen laughing as he stole a tray of cookies jumping over the table stopping to make sure she was on his heels, she lost her footing tripping over something on the ground before she was tumbling across the concrete suddenly falling down on the floor crying out making them all jump

“Hey you okay” she looked up fast nodding desperately trying to hide her anger

Donnie kneeled down looking at her leg where blood was staining the edge of her pants “It’s just a scratch, I’ll be fine” Mikey grinned when she looked up at him mumbling something under her breath that didn’t reach Raphael’s ears before looking above her and Donatello tapping him on the arm catching his attention

Raphael couldn’t help but see the blush that spread over his genius brothers cheeks as he looked up seeing they were stuck under a patch of the annoying plant looking back at her rambling through his words suddenly

“D-Did you know that mistletoe is relevant to several cultures. It is associated with our Western Christmas as a decoration, under which lovers are expected to kiss. Mistletoe also played an important role in Druidic mythology in the Ritual of Oak and Mistletoe.

In Norse Mythology, Loki tricked the blind god Hodur into murdering Balder with an arrow made of Mistletoe, being the only plant to which Balder was vulnerable too. Some versions of the story have mistletoe becoming a symbol of peace and friendship to compensate for its part in the murder.

Mistletoe was associated with fertility and vitality through the Middle Ages, and by the 18th century it had also become incorporated into Christmas celebrations around the world. The custom of kissing under the mistletoe is from the late 18th century in England where: the serving class of Victorian England is credited with perpetuating the tradition. The tradition dictated that a man was allowed to kiss any woman standing underneath mistletoe, and that bad luck would befall any woman who refused the kiss. One variation on the tradition stated that with each kiss a berry was to be plucked from the mistletoe, and the kissing must stop after all the berries had been removed...”

Raven groaned loudly throwing herself back on the floor "NOW LOOK WHAT YOU DID MIKEY - YOU BROKE DONNIE!!! NOW HIS BRAIN’S GOING TO FRY OUT” 

Donnie had lost most of them close to the beginning of what he had been saying since he was talking so fast, sitting up after a while she leaned forward kissing his cheek silencing him in the middle of his rant before picking herself off the floor with a small grin that looked forced snatching the tray of cookies from her brother punching him in the arm hard enough he actually flinched before she was storming into the kitchen

It had been fun but now he had irritated her even though she was trying so hard to keep a smile on her face; not to mention if Raphael had to watch her kiss one more person he was going to knock the green off Mikey for her

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Raphael can you come help me with something”

Hearing his name made him perk up before he jumped over the couch when the game went to half time hearing the once again cheerful voice beckoning him to her like a bug to a light, he gladly lumbered into the kitchen seeing her brushing the loose strands of hair out of her face turning with a smile blowing on a brownie in her hand lifting herself up on the counter holding it out, he smiled stepping closer taking it from her hand chewing slowly.

He loved the brownies she made for every holiday, birthday, or any special occasion that gave her a reason to cook them “How are they? Made them just for you”

“Awesome as always”

She grinned at him as it crossed his mind that not only did she look dressed up more than usual she smelled really good, he watched her grab another from the plate they were cooling on waving it playfully at him before leaned in giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek and taking it quickly seeming amused by the way her cheeks turned a light rosy color when his tongue brushed her fingers licking off the melted chocolate

He had started to step back before she glanced up smiling grabbing the straps across his chest plate carefully holding him in place with ease “Hey Raph?” his eyes followed hers freezing when he saw what had caught her attention right above them was a huge bundle of mistletoe tied together with a big red bow

“MIKEY YA LIL’-!!!”

His words froze in his mouth as she giggled loudly shaking her head fast “That wasn’t Mikey this time Raph. Why would Mikey have lured you in here with a plate full of your favorite brownies and a pretty girl under that crap just so she could kiss you?”

He looked at her before she leaned over grabbing his hand pulling him closer until they were literally inches apart, his heart thundered away in his chest racing faster than ever “Raphael-” she closed the space between them pressing her lips to his gently holding them against his.

Raphael froze telling himself that couldn’t be happening that it was some torturous dream fucking with his mind but when she pulled back it was all too real; Raven had just kissed him on the lips instead of one of the cheek kisses she was giving everyone else.

She had planted some of that god awful plant in the kitchen then called him to her. It was all too perfect. He had to be dreaming

“Sorry I thought I’d actually give it a try since Mikey has been abusing it today”

There was the look he had wanted to see all night, her deep emerald green eyes were sparkling brightly at him and this time he was pulled towards her, wanting nothing more than to have her soft pink lips pressed firmly against his own once more, his finger went under her chin as one of her tiny hands traced its way up his chest plate “Sorry I had to trick you-” she didn’t see it coming; before she knew what happened his lips were over hers firmly taking her by surprise pulling away for a second not feeling the eyes that were staring at them from the doorway

“I don’t mind one damn bit kid“

She was quick to return to the kiss cupping his cheek in a tiny hand as she lured him back grinning before her lips were pressed on his but this time her tongue brushed over his bottom lip inviting him in; he took the invitation gladly opening his mouth over hers entwining his tongue with hers groaning as it softly brushed over his filling his mouth with the intoxicating sweet taste that was coming from hers, his fingers tangled in her soft hair holding her face gently in his huge hands as the bite of her nails into his shoulders propelled him further, he slid his hands down her body until they were resting on her hips feeling her arms slid around his neck holding him against her loving the way her breast were pushed against his chest.

Slowly he felt her arms tighten around his neck as her fingers brushed over the sensitive skin that connected just under his shell feeling a small nip to his bottom lip that made him pull back before grinning down on her devouring her smooth mouth with his returning the love bite feeling her grip tightening on him as the kiss started to slow becoming even sweeter then he could have ever imagined

There was nothing in the world that could ruin this moment as her body pressed deliciously against his again never wanting that moment to end

“OH MY GOD!!!! Dude that is epic”

“WHAT! Woah way to go Raphie boy”

“Aww”

Aw was right. Aww Fuck!

He opened his eyes to see their entire family standing in the doorway watching them looking between surprised and shocked even though they were all grinning, he was expecting her to push him away or pull back but instead she held tighter even tilting her head to the side making the kiss deeper, one of her hands slid up his neck until it was resting on his skull making goosebumps prickle over his skin as his eyes slid shut again grinning against her lips as she continued to kiss him letting it ended sweetly still holding tight to him long after their lips had parted.

She slowly pulled away grinning brightly up at him looking back over her shoulder when he returned her smile “Brah baby girl finally decided to loosen up and have some fun!”

Raphael glared over at him growling under his breath “Mikey…”

He stopped feeling a soft hand on his chest looking down to a pair of emerald green orbs seeing a playfulness enter her eyes before she shifted looking over her shoulder “That - is how you kiss under the mistletoe Mikey”

Raven bragged proudly as she wrapped an arm around Raphael’s built shoulders and pulled him flush against her body for one last quick peck on the lips giggling as he nuzzled his face against hers.

Raphael still couldn’t believe it.

She kissed him and wasn’t embarrassed to continue even after they had got caught by everyone thanks to his outburst towards Michelangelo.

Splinter had broken it up telling them to disperse but there was a small gleam in his eyes when he looked down at Raven who went back to finishing up dinner seeming even more cheerful then he had ever seen her in his lifetime if that was even possible for the teen.

He stole small looks at her making sure he wasn’t seen by Casey or his brothers smiling like a fool as she went about the lair setting the table up humming happily 

Maybe these holidays wouldn’t be all that bad

[kazosa]

Second Chances - Norman & Reader: Bonus Chapter!

Summary: This is an extra because @backseat-negan brought up a good point, How’s Norman doing? This takes place after pilot season and before the house hunting. The reader finds out how Norman is and as a bonus to the bonus, there’s a receipe in there for my pasta salad.

Characters: Reader and Norman

Word count: 1700(thought this would be a short one, oops!)

Warnings: just the usual potty mouth and some fluff

A/N: I love Norman to bits.

@jml509  @jasoncrouse  @yellatthetopofyourlungs  @bookchic20  @prettyepiic  @rizflo-blog  @backseat-negan  @warriorqueen1991  @fairytale07  @sup–ernova

     You and Jeff had already finished filming the pilot for Supernatural, but he was away doing a guest spot for “Grey’s Anatomy.” If he got on as a regular, he was going to be a busy bee because you’d just gotten word that “Supernatural” had been picked up. He decided to stay in a little motel while filming. It was far enough away that getting home each night was just not an option and still be able to get rest.      You were sitting at home with Bisou and were going to watch “Blade II.” It was one of those days where you could watch whatever movie you wanted to watch and there wouldn’t be anyone to give you a hard time about what you picked. When Jeff or Norman were there, they usually out-voted you and picked something that would scare the hell out of you. You were sure that Jeff did it so you would hide your face on him. When it was just you and one of the boys, it was different. Norman usually let you pick. He would never admit it, but you were sure he liked the rom-coms you picked. You weren’t completely inconsiderate though, you liked action films a lot, too.

     The movie had just started when you heard the familiar banging and doorbell ringing that Norman liked to do. He thought it was funny as hell to scare the shit out of you. He’d called Jeff to let him know he was back in the states a week ago, so him banging on the door wasn’t a terrible shock, but surprising none the less.      Bisou took off for the door like a shot. She knew the knock, too. She was practically vibrating by the time you caught up to her. You turned the locks and opened the door. Neither you nor Bisou was disappointed by the sight that greeted you. Norman Reedus.      “Norman!! Get your ass in here!” you practically yanked Norman inside. Not only was it hot outside and you were trying to keep Bisou in, you also missed your friend, you hadn’t seen him since you visited him in Germany. Once he was inside, he dropped his bag and scooped you up into a bear hug. Norman always had this way of making you feel like the most important person in the world.      When he put you back on your feet you looked up at him and held his face in your hands, “Let me look at you!”      His hair had grown shaggy and the skin around his left eye was still pink and puffy. He had a titanium eye socket now and the bruising was finally starting to go away. The last time you’d talked to him, he couldn’t feel his face except for a small spot on his lip and his right cheek.      “How is it? Frankenstein?” he asked.      You shook your head. “Nah, you’re still a sexy sumbitch.” He looked like he was disappointed, the weirdo. You grinned at him and pulled his right cheek to you to give him a kiss. “C’mon, throw your bag in your room and then come watch a movie with me.”      About ten minutes later, a showered and fresh Norman came back out to the living room (wearing the Truffle Shuffle shirt you got him from the side trip you and Jeff took to Astoria, Oregon) and flopped down on the couch next to you. He smelled really good, as usual.      When you watched movies, you always had the curtains drawn and turned down the AC so it was nice and cold. Sometimes you popped popcorn, but not this time, you hadn’t had dinner yet.      “‘Bout time, I was freezing waiting for you,” you told him.      “Excuse me for washing the airplane off me,” he sassed back.      You sat on his left and gave him an “accidental” elbow to the ribs as you pulled a fluffy blanket over the two of you. This was nothing unusual for either of you. When Norman would stay with you and Jeff, the three of you would end up on the couch under the giant blanket you’d bought. Sometimes you spent all day on that couch watching movies, any one of you falling asleep at any given time. Having Norman around had become a comfort to you. He was always a good distraction from missing Jeff.      It didn’t take long for the movie to get going before Norman started talking. “Is this ‘Blade II’?”     “Yeah, how’d you know?” you asked back.      He shook his head at you, “You are the worst friend ever.”      “What? Why?!” you had no idea why he was saying that this time. He often said you were the worst for whatever reason struck him at the time, and you usually deserved it.      “You’ll see,” he was perturbed.      Soon enough, you saw why. Norman slowly turned his head to look at you. When his face came up on the screen, he was full on staring you down. He moved so close to you, you couldn’t even turn to look at him.      “Say it,” he breathed on you.      You put your hand over his face and pushed him away. “Norm, I haven’t seen this since it came out. I just forgot! I swear!”      “Have you seen ANYTHING I’ve done?” he asked.      “Well… ‘Boondocks’ and this,” you said sheepishly.      “See? Worst friend ever,” he said.      You looked at him. He was smirking at you.      “I hate you so bad,” you said, trying to look serious.      “No, you don’t, you love me,” he said putting his arm around you.      You leaned into his side, giving up arguing. “Yeah, I do.”      After Norman got blown up (in the movie), you decided you’d had enough of the movie and went to go make dinner for you both. You’d bought chicken breasts and the vegetables you needed to make your pasta that morning. It didn’t take long for you to season the chicken and throw it in the oven. While that was cooking, you got started on cutting up the tomatoes and green onions you’d need to make the pasta. It surprised you when Norman came into the kitchen to see if you needed help.      “Yeah, get some big bowls out of the cupboard there,” you pointed at a low cupboard with your foot. “Then you can get out the olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt, pepper, garlic, parsley and almond shards. Do you like almonds?”      “Uh, yeah, I guess,” he said looking around for all of the things you listed.      “Good, grab the parmesan block too and the grater,” you told him. “Then you can help me dice these tomatoes and onions.”      Once the 6 large tomatoes were seeded and diced, they went into one of the small bowls. Norman got out a pot and started to boil some water for you while you started on cutting up a bundle and a half of green onions. You knew you got fresh ones when you had to stop a few times to wipe your eyes.      “Ahh, my eyes!” Norman whined.      “Suck it up, Sally,” you told him, sniffing. “Put the bowtie noodles in when that starts to boil.”      “Slave-driver,” he muttered wiping his eyes.      “Do you wanna eat or not?” sometimes you felt like you had another little brother, other than Jared, even though Norman was ten years older than you. Finishing the onions, you dumped them into the same bowl with the tomatoes and started adding the oil, vinegar, salt, pepper, garlic and parsley. You mixed it all together and checked it for taste. You added a bit more of the vinegar and salt and then it tasted right to you. The almond shards and parmesan went on last. Whenever you made this dish, Jeff couldn’t stop eating it until it was gone.      Norman pulled the noodles off heat and dumped them into the colander in the sink then rinsed them with cold water. It took a bit longer for the chicken to get done, but that gave the vegetables and noodles time to cool in the fridge. While the chicken finished cooking, you and Norman took Bisou outside to play.      “You guys have a nice life here,” Norman said, throwing Bisou’s ball.      You stood in the shade watching him. You had a special kind of love for Norman. You argued about almost everything. He did things just to annoy the shit out of you, and yet, he was always there if you needed him. From that first time you met him, when he came to Burbank to help you with the Norton, you knew he would always be in your life. You loved him with all your heart, not in the same way that you loved Jeff, this was different. Norman was one of those people that you picked to be family, no matter what, he’d always be your Norman.      “Yeah, it’s pretty awesome,” you were feeling grateful.      “You know, I’ve known Jeff a long time,” Norman began tentatively, “and Jeff and Anya were married a long time, too.”      You looked at him wondering where in the hell he was going with this.      “Yeah?”      “He was never this happy with her. You two are meant to be together,” he said. He threw the ball for Bisou, his gaze slowly meeting yours, “You know that, right? I wouldn’t be surprised if he asks you to marry him.”      You were flabbergasted. No way in hell were you expecting those words to come out of Norman’s mouth. You loved Jeff and missed him terribly when he was gone, and you knew he loved you, but enough to get married? That was a tough one to wrap your head around.      He stopped mid-throw to look at you. A smile spread across his face and Bisou barked at him to throw her ball. Norman tossed the ball and said, “Just invite me to the wedding.”      “Hell yeah, you’re gonna be my maid of honor,” you recovered enough to tease him.      “Fuckin-a, just don’t pick something hideous that makes me look fat. I wanna look pretty on your big day,” he played back. “Wanna go for a ride after we eat?” he asked.      “Stop flirting with me, you dirty dog,” you said. “Oh, you mean bikes,” you snickered. “Hell yes.”      “I’m telling Jeff,” he said.

[charyzard]

I wrote another Jaal x Ryder, 2800 words. Should be spoiler free. Prompt-fill for ‘First kiss.’  read it on ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10720971

Fresh Water

The firefight was almost over- Hell, Fiona was reluctant to even call it that. She’d pulled a few gas canisters together (and one sniper) and thrown them around the corner into the mass of idiots hiding behind a rock, blowing them to bits if their necks weren’t already broken. It was almost pitiful. Only the smart ones were left, keeping to cover and bolstering their shields to avoid Fiona’s biotics. It was one of those pains in her side that threw a grenade behind Jaal’s cover, snapping her focus sharply to the explosive sailing through the air towards her friend. An image flashed through her brain, losing him, losing what they’d begun to have. No- not happening.

“Jaal! Get down!” Fiona shouted, her voice piercing over the comms. She was already dashing over to tackle him, biotics boosting her speed, and the impact was enough to knock them a few feet away- still, Jaal waited for the impact of the grenade. Even at a distance, it was going to rip through his shields. He squeezed his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around Fiona’s waist as they hit the ground- he’d at least try to take some of the blast for her.

The explosion never came. In fact, there was nothing registering in his senses; no noise, no pain, not even a ringing in his ears. Was he dead? Jaal cracked his eyes open, half expecting nothingness. Instead, he was greeted with Fiona leaning over him, one hand by his head, the other splayed out towards the sky. The purple, shimmering sky. That wasn’t normal. The shimmer extended in a bubble around them, Fiona herself laced with the shifting light. It was her biotics, he realized, isolating them from the surrounding carnage. She looked down as he shifted, the barrier dissipating, and fixated her blue eyes on him with concern.

“Are you okay? Let me check you for injuries-“ Fiona began, her omni-tool flaring to life, ready to apply medigel. Jaal stared at her quietly as she tended to a slash on his leg, an earlier injury he’d been ignoring.

“Fiona.” He attempted to get her attention, listening passively to Drack destroying people in the distance. She wasn’t responding, and Jaal sat up, reaching out to put a hand on her arm. “Fi.”

“Huh? What, am I missing something? Are you hurt?” She put a hand on top of his, concern heavy in her voice. She couldn’t lose him, not to something like this.

Jaal wasn’t sure how to convey his gratefulness, nor the warmth that was welling in his heart at the sight of her. She was more beautiful in that moment than he’d ever thought possible, the last of her biotics shimmering across her skin and sweat on her brow, brown hair disheveled, a smudge of dirt across her red cheeks. “Not in the slightest. You saved my life. Come here.”

Jaal pulled on Fiona’s arm, shifting her into his lap as he pulled her into an embrace. Fiona squeaked, surprised, but not entirely protesting. It was awkward in their armor, but nothing mattered to Ryder as Jaal cradled her head, his pupils wide and holding steady with hers.

“Um?” Was all Fiona managed, her eyes flitting between his lips and his eyes. God, his eyes, they were looking at her like she was a star, and it made her heart fill with an almost terrifying mix of wanting and pure, unadulterated joy.

“May I kiss you?” Jaal asked, unsure. Fiona was visibly scared, but she hadn’t left, and she was starting to put her arms around his neck-

“Please,” she breathed, and that was all Jaal needed.

Their first kiss was gentle, gentler than Fiona was expecting. Jaal took time to brush his lips against hers, the tingling current of his bioelectric field flickering across the sensitive skin. It left Fiona breathless, and she gasped when he kissed her harder. This was what she was expecting, want and tension and curiosity bundled tightly behind their lips, his large hands holding her close, her deft fingers running across the ridges on the back of his head. The current was stronger now, nerves in her body firing off in ways she didn’t know they could. He was sweet to taste, something indescribably him, and when his tongue pressed against the seam of her lips, Fiona almost whimpered.

”Fiona,” Jaal murmured into their kiss, his rumbling voice sending a shudder down her spine. God, he sounded almost predatory, and it made heat pool in her stomach.

“Hey, you kids done with your nonsense yet?” Drack’s voice cut through the comms, gravelly and wholly cranky, “Because I’m bored.”

Fiona and Jaal pulled apart, embarrassed. The dark blue flush of Jaal’s cowl mirrored the redness of Fiona’s face, her cheeks burning under the bright sun.

“Uh, yeah, we’re good,” Fiona sputtered, rolling off of Jaal and standing. She noticed her knees shaking- shit, she had it bad. The angara stood, eyeing Fiona carefully, unsure of her reaction. She seemed concerned more than anything, which bothered him. “Let’s- um, let’s go back to the Tempest, since these raiders aren’t a threat to Prodromos anymore, okay?” Fiona ordered, her voice wavering. She needed some time to think about what just happened.

“Fiona, was that… not alright?” Jaal asked as they walked back to the Nomad, and Fiona snorted in surprise.

“That was fantastic. I just need to think about this for a little bit, okay? I promise, I’m more than pleased with what that-“ she waved her hands towards the battlefield in emphasis- “was.”

“I- alright. I believe time to think is a wise idea. I will find you later?” Jaal asked, and Fiona nodded. Their hands brushed together, and Jaal was reassured by the contact. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to think of anything else for the next few days.

Drack watched their exchange from a distance, amused. Love was a good, pure thing, and if it was making Fiona happy, it was good enough for him. Jaal was a good kid, the Krogan mused, and they were more than crazy about each other. Fuckin’ kids.

The roast in the oven smelled fantastic- enough so that Fiona had taken up shop in the galley. She was gently picking her guitar strings to pass the time, cradling the instrument gently in her lap. Music had been the one thing that kept their family together, Alec actually taking the time to teach both of his children how to play guitar for the first few months after their mother died. Then he became engrossed in himself, in his obsession with the Initiative, with SAM… They lost a parent all over again, no matter how many times Alec had insisted he was there if they needed.

‘Hollow words mean nothing,’ Fiona thought bitterly, but she shook herself out of the rut, strumming a heavy C chord and returning to thoughts of the food in the oven. Even if Drack had said no peeking, Fiona still couldn’t stay away from the mouthwatering scent of it; she’d even kept Peebee from stealing a bite, reluctantly.

“Pathfinder, Jaal is looking for you,” SAM pinged into her head, “And Mr. Vidal has located the sheet music you requested, on the condition that you come back to Kadara soon and play it over a bottle of scotch. He says he found a new rooftop you would like, as well. Shall I download the music onto your omni-tool?”

“Please do. And let Jaal know where I am, would you?” Fiona replied, left grinning by Reyes’ demands. She didn’t think she’d find so good a friend in Kadara of all places. And then there was Jaal- a small sprout of joy started in her heart. She always liked her conversations with Jaal, and since they started flirting… With the dearest one and the emails… and that kiss! They still hadn’t talked about it, and she’d been wanting more since they’d left Eos. His presence in her life was filling a need she didn’t know she had. It wasn’t long before the man in question meandered into the galley, his nose twitching as he focused on the oven.

“What is cooking?” The angara asked, leaning down to peer through the glass. Fiona took a generous stare at his behind as he bent over, idly plucking strings.

“You mean, like, the act of cooking itself or what’s in the oven?” Fiona teased, reaching one foot out to poke his rear end. Jaal jerked in surprise, turning around to shoot her a flat, unamused look.

“You know the answer to that,” he replied, humor tinging voice. Fiona giggled, drawing a smile onto Jaal’s face. “But I still do not know what’s in the oven.”

“Drack is cooking us a roast for dinner, and it’s got to be one of the best things I’ve smelled in weeks,” Fiona explained, and Jaal nodded, satisfied with her explanation. His attention then turned to the musical instrument in her arms, his interest piqued. The angara placed high value on music, and he had no idea Ryder was musically inclined.

“That is an interesting instrument. It looks similar to some of ours. Why are there so many strings?” Jaal asked as he pulled a chair opposite to Fiona, settling in comfortable. He gently rested his foot against hers and quirked a small smile, earning a grin from her.

“Well,” Fiona began, “Each string has a different tension, which is managed by tightening or loosening the tuners. Then when you strum the strings, the different harmonics produce different pitches. The body of the guitar is hollow, which amplifies the sound. This is an acoustic, but I have an electric guitar from my dad, and Scott has our bass guitars. But they’re in storage right now. We used to joke that we’d go around as a family and play for any new species we found in Heleus, but obvisouly…” She trailed off, lost in thought for a moment as she ran her hands along the polished maple-wood surface. “I suppose I could still do the same. Mind being my first audience?”

Jaal didn’t know how to respond; in angaran culture, live performances of music were very important affairs, and private demonstrations were considered almost intimate. Still, he could tell it meant a great deal to her, so he nodded. “I would be honored.”

Fiona shifted slightly- what to play? It was significant, the first song she performed in Heleus, at least for someone else. A peppy song wouldn’t do it, not given their situation, but maybe, maybe a classic. “Alright, sit still for a moment. I have to tune this.” She fiddled with her tuners, strumming with frustration for a few minutes as she tried to find the right sound. When she struck the right chord, though, she knew. With a soft sigh, she relaxed into her seat, and began to strum. When it came time for lyrics, Fiona didn’t know if she should sing- but the words were in her throat, welling up and bubbling to escape her lips.

“Come up to meet you, tell you I’m sorry, you don’t know how lovely you are,” she sang softly, the words coming naturally. It was one of her favorite songs, one she associated with her mother- It was the song that comforted her and Scott when Ellen died.

Jaal listened closely, the lyrics giving away more sadness than Fiona ever expressed. He knew she was hiding her feelings, but this… He saw tears in her eyes, but she didn’t waver; if anything, her voice grew stronger as the song went on. And by Zorai, her voice was something magical. It was soft and almost breathy, but clear and refreshing. Like a soft spring, he thought, and water after a parching day. And as she grew more confident, it rang through the small galley like a hymn. He was well and truly fascinated.

“Nobody said it was easy, nobody said it would be so hard,” Fiona breathed, the last of the lyrics trailing after she had finished playing. “I’m going back to the start.” She stilled, silence settling into the void left behind by her words.  She wouldn’t look up from her guitar, a white knuckled grip on the fretboard, not trusting herself to meet Jaal’s gaze. She knew he was staring at her, trying to discern the flood of emotion she’d just poured at his feet.

“Fiona?”

“Yes?”

“Look at me, please.”

She raised her head, blinking away the tears in her eyes, swallowing the knot in her throat. Where she was expecting pity, Fiona only saw admiration. Jaal was watching her with gently reverent eyes and a smile, and as Fiona turned her head to the side in confusion, he bowed his head gently.

“Your voice has the grace of the yevara. I have never heard a vocal range that spreads so, it is wonderful. You are wonderful, darling one. Thank you for sharing that with me.” He reached out for Fiona’s hands, and she placed her guitar on the table to hold his. His fingers were larger than hers, firm but soft, and cool to the touch. She could feel a light current raising the hair on her skin, a soft shiver going up her arms as he ran his thumbs over the tops of her hands.

“Thank you for listening,” she replied softly, watching curiously as he took one of her hands and spread the fingers apart.

“Your fingers are small, but they are so deft. I was watching you play, it was intriguing. They all move so independently, and yet, there is no lack of purpose. And how eagerly they grab onto things,” he chuckled, recalling how her hands danced over his cowl when they kissed, and how even now she wrapped her hand around his. The skin to skin contact enticed Fiona, her emotions a jumbled mess, and she was struck by a desire to kiss him.

“It’s pretty useful,” she mused, her lips pursing into a smirk. She was planning something. “Good for getting a nice grip.” With those words she pulled herself forward, shifting into Jaal’s lap. He snorted in surprise, his chromatophores flushing blue in a blush, and stared at Fiona. She was looking up at him with a sly grin.

“What are you doing, dearest?” He asked, knowing full well that teasing her would elicit a rebuke.

Fiona whacked his arm softly- there’s the rebuke- and leaned in. “I’m gonna kiss you, silly. Unless, you don’t want to?” She was asking for more than just a kiss, he could see it in her eyes.  She was asking for a yes or a no, a go ahead for their relationship, a culmination of their thoughts since Eos. Jaal wanted nothing more.

“Why would I ever say no?” Jaal rumbled, and they kissed again. There was no sweat on her lips, no salt to tinge the taste of her. To Jaal, she tasted almost like water in its purest form. Even better, there were no chest plates, no awkward poking armor to keep them apart. Fiona clung tightly to him, her hands smoothing over the back of his rofjinn- it was softer than she expected it to be, almost plush. Jaal splayed his hands over her lower back, pulling her closer as they kissed. His tongue pushed against hers and drew little sighs from Fiona’s chest, stress falling from her shoulders the more they moved with each other. They were so engrossed in each other that neither of them noticed Drack and Vetra walking into the galley, stopping dead in their tracks.

“What the fuck?” Vetra sputtered, and Drack started cackling. Fiona froze, turning to look at her friends guiltily.

“Hi,” Fiona giggled, the hilarity of the situation masking her embarrassment.

“Hi, yourself. Spirits, get a room, would you?” Vetra countered, but she couldn’t hide the smile on her face, mandible flared. It warmed her heart to see her friend happy.

“Ah, relax. Their just having fun, yeah?” Drack joked, smacking Vetra on the back. The turian elbowed him, and Jaal finally found his words.

“Drack, you’re here. I would like to know what exactly you’re roasting!” He still had Fiona on his lap, but that wasn’t a problem, as far as he was concerned.

“I’ll tell you if you get our boss off of you. Shouldn’t you be pathfinding, kid?” Drack chuckled, and Fiona sighed. He had a point.

“Alright, alright, I’m going to the bridge. You guys have fun in here, cooking and hopefully not slandering my name. You know how important professionalism in the work environment is!” Fiona piped up, standing. Jaal pulled her in for a last peck before she left, earning a disgusted sigh from Vetra. She grabbed her guitar and booked it out of the galley, leaving her crew mates to tease Jaal and prep dinner.

[ilovehighhats]

Sculptor, ch. 2, The Weed

Or shaping the future one day at a time.

In which the sapling turns out to be something different than what was planted.

Bane sighed, releasing a thick cloud of vapour, feeling the tension escape him further along with air leaving his lungs.

Aware that the ritual was as important to him as the drug, he took care now to find half an hour both before and after sleep. Helena welcomed the brackets he imposed on their activities, easily swallowing his explanation. Meditation. Wasn’t a lie, not technically, since he did that, too. Only, after a session he took out a small vaporizer and a vial of green oil he got from Dr Isley and imbibed. THC did work on him, to his quiet astonishment. Not wonders, even though the essence was from some novelty variety crossbred by the botanist; nothing could compare with the instant thunderous impact of Venom. Nevertheless it helped him chill and dulled some of his aches to a point he believed he behaved like a normal guy. Regular Frank, not looking over his shoulder at every louder sound, not jumping at unfamiliar shadows, not lashing out at strangers visiting his property uninvited.

He thought he could live without it, without the scheduled regularity, but then the episode with the knife happened. So he kept on taking two, sometimes three doses every day.

Helena’s suggestion that he should start smoking marijuana delighted him. His prim and proper scribe ready to break the rules for him. Only for him. Always, for him.

With each passing day he was more and more besotted with her.

To his dismay, it didn’t help settle him in his sleep. And she saw him that night when reality shifted, the fabric of time overlapping so that he was at the same time back in the condo in Gotham, with Talia sullenly complaining about Wayne, and yet aware that the body beside him was Helena’s, so his mind made a connection telling him he must have been at the Armenian compound. She surprised him again that night, twice. First with how calm she reacted, letting him gently fall away from the mirage his mind conjured. And then later, when she took him out and away from fruitless and frustrating tossing and turning on the bed. Once again she was attuned to him, fitting in his cracks and crevices, filling out inadequacies, tempering sharp points and overeager tendencies. With a start he realized she led him and he followed gladly, a revelation at once baffling and oddly satisfying. Maybe leading wasn’t the best word, he thought smirking and inhaling deep the vapour, guiding seemed much more suitable. Helena herself insisted on them walking side by side, even if she was the one who set the destination. He still had ample opportunity to discuss the path, chart the course together and pick the tempo; if he wanted. She was his compass and at the same time the azymuth he followed. Ultimately it boiled down to the fact he wanted to be wherever she was, whether on the move or rooted to the ground.

 oOo

 Much like back at the monastery they quickly developed a comfortable routine. Both slept in their respective beds, but the days were spent intermittently together, either on mornings or evenings. Sometimes Helena would sleep over at Bane’s.

She still couldn’t bring herself to call him by his real name.

Schedule cemented after two weeks, the first signs of true comfort began seeping into their interactions. A tender kiss on the neck. Cuddling on the sofa. Soft palm running over shoulders in passing. Warm smiles from over a book, or a plate, or when Bane pummelled Helena’s King on the chessboard, yet again winning the round in three moves.

All of this was very well. But the device she bought for him didn’t do its job. Bane still had nightmares. Sometimes he’d tell her himself, sometimes she saw that in the way he rubbed his jaw or stretched his neck.

She worried.

Getting him to use Lully was more to see if he’d be receptive to her help, but there was hope at the back of her head that it would be enough. Silly thought. He needed therapy.

On top of all that he never mentioned if he had hallucinations again. Asking would be too much on Helena’s nerves, so she settled on letting him deal with that on his own. For now. Until she’d be less scared of who he saw her as.

Now she was facing another gruesome task, namely preparing him for another type of trauma. Easter brunch loomed not even a week away. She knew some other people would attend and Bane agreed to go, much to her amazement. Gathering intel, he said. Didn’t want to specify on what.

Again, she worried.

Exercise seemed to be the best medicine, so she decided it was high time to roll up her sleeves, literally, and get to work on a vegetable patch and herb garden she wanted to plant.

What she forgot to take into consideration was the fact that the soil she tried to turn was hardly moved in last fifty years. It was nearly as hard and dense as the rocks around. She worked up a nice sweat and her lungs burned with the exertion, and what she had to show for it? A tiny tiny square of ground, filled with rocks, sandy underneath and dry overall.

Maybe she should just keep her plants in pots? That would give her cottage a Mediterranean look. Could be nice.

She stood by her terrace, hands propped up on the shovel, looking down miserably, contemplating her options.

That’s how Bane saw her.

“Your turn to make dinner tonight,” he said as a greeting.

Shit, she forgot.

“Shit, I forgot,” she admitted. “I’m battling the elements in hope of cultivating this godforsaken land, but as you can see it's all a rather pitiful attempt at trying to tame nature.”

He chuckled and took the shovel, exchanging it for a teacloth bundle he brought along.

“What’s that?”

“Bread.” He looked around. “How far you want to go with your renovation?”

“Up to that damson tree, and like this.” She stepped through the grass to show him the shape she wanted to achieve and how far it stretched. “Just turn the soil over, I’ll have to work in fertilizer anyway, so it doesn't have to be very deep.”

“Aren't you supposed to do that before April?”

“I had other concerns in early spring.”

“Right. Off you go,” he shooed her away.

She pecked his cheek quickly before she went, humming even before she crossed the threshold.

They went grocery shopping the day before, so she decided what to cook as she trotted down the stairs. The bread Bane made was a luscious, crusty loaf, very rustic. She decided it would be best to offset it with a nice stew, creamy and warm. The perfect hearty meal after some honest work.

Fond smile crept up on her lips as she cut chicken thighs, then carrots, broccoli, potatoes and onions. From time to time she looked up, trying to catch a glimpse of Bane in the skylight. When she sautéed meat with onions in the crockpot in heaping helping of butter, he leaned his head down over the window.

“It smells delicious,” he mouthed through the glass.

Helena giggled and beamed up at him.

Soon she was adding vegetables and some broth from her freezer. At the top she carefully placed some fresh bay leaves, snipped right off the plant that was standing on the counter. Just like Julia Child. The downtime she had before making roux was perfect opportunity to pick parsley leaves off the stalk and set the table.

Bane came down when she was stirring the stew, smell of nutmeg sharp in the air.

“Are your hands clean?” she asked, turning to look at him.

They weren't, and the rest of him was just as filthy. He took off his outer wear and must have worked only in jeans and long sleeve henley, perspiration clearly visible along with streaks of mud and some green stains.

“Still like me sweaty and dirty?” he teased.

Helena turned off the stove without looking.

“Oh I don’t know, you're not covered in blood and gunpowder,” she said, dared him further with a tantalizing sucking on her lower lip. “I guess we’ll have to find out, won’t we?”

Glued to the spot he nevertheless excluded an air of confidence. She couldn't resist him like this, chest puffed out, hands fisted at his sides, shoulders tightly pulled back. He watched her like a hawk when she neared him carefully, one step after another.

She stopped just outside his reach, marvelling at the way quickened breath escaped his nose in short angry puffs.

“Do it. Take the last step,” he tempted, deep voice husky with need.

This was a bad idea.

Her eyes measured him one last time, from feet to the top of his head.

This was a very bad idea.

Her mouth touched his neck first. Barely a second after, he gripped her hips and her hands found his flanks. A hiss escaped Bane’s mouth, pained and short, when he felt her tongue track a slick trail up to his ear. Reflexively his fingers dug into soft flesh beneath, thumbs hooking at hipbones, easy to find under thin skin. He rocked towards her, once then twice, and rubbed cheek scratchy with stubble on her delicate one. Blindly he found her lips, parted in welcome, eager to taste more of him.

Helena watched him keenly, finally able to see his face with a satisfied, blissful smile. He was beautiful. The scars marring his jaw were like a relief, an organic pattern designed to bring out perfect symmetry of subject underneath. Mutely telling stories of cruelty, bravery and survival.

Their lips met again in a gentle stroke, teasing the nerve endings with back and forth touch that was far from enough.

He threaded fingers through her hair, freeing them from the elastic, individual strands catching lightly on callouses of his hand.

“Tell me you want this,” Bane whispered, stormy eyes insistent. He wouldn’t trespass again, he’d wait just as she asked of him.

Helena smiled, stroking warm palms up his stomach, feeling the damage underneath. Her face shifted, happiness giving way to regret.

“I could have lost you.” She pressed closer, slithering her arms around his broad back. “I never want to be parted with you again.“ And then she looked up once more, meeting his eyes with the same intensity he had, equally burning desire simmering under her skin. “I want you.”

The last step she had to take.

“You're never getting rid of me,” Bane warned, crowding her back, pushing with slightly shaky hands in her hips. “You're mine and no one will touch you but me. Understand?“

“Yes,” she moaned it out because he was already kissing her neck, wet and sloppy, at the same time raising her on the table.

“I always wanted to fuck you on a desk. A kitchen table will do, too,” he hissed in her ear, pulling away to yank her jeans open.

Someone knocked on the skylight.

Their hands stilled and Bane growled, a primal, vibrating sound, the epitome of male displeasure.

“Do you expect anyone?”

“No,” Helena said, jumping off the table, righting her clothes with knitted brows. “I’ll see who that is.”

An unfamiliar silhouette loomed beyond the door, slowing Helena’s steps with uncertainty. Whoever the intruder was knew she would be getting out from the underground level, and pass the balcony door. Which was closest to the skylight. Which in turn, told her volumes about the fact that, intentional or not, they wanted her intimidated.

No such luck.

She opened the door and greeted the guest.

“Mr Brown.”

“Ms Wolf,” he said with a pleasant smile. “May I?” He gestured vaguely towards interior of the house.

“No.”

The level answer surprised him.

“I said I will be back to discuss Bane,” he reminded.

“You did. And I remember distinctly never agreeing on that. Instead I asked you to leave your contact info, so I could notice you if anything as unlikely as Bane calling me would happen.”

“We can do it the hard way,” he warned.

“Let’s. I’m quite sure it we be greater difficulty for you. Stop harassing me.”

The agent’s jaw tensed visibly.

“Who are you protecting?”

“Myself. My peace of mind. Didn’t you get all you wanted when I was interrogated back a few years ago? What would it help you now to make me relive all that had happened again?”

“I’m sure you omitted some vital information back then,” he replied angrily.

Something in wording of that statement caught Helena's interest.

“Really? Tell me, what exactly you think I was unclear about?”

“I would like to conduct this conversation indoors.” The evasion was blatant and insulting.

“You haven’t seen it.” She exclaimed gleefully. “You come here and pester me, because your little government agencies are too incompetent to work together. And you’re grasping at straws.” Her smile turned vicious. “Do you realize that what Bane did to me back then was not the end? Oh, he didn’t contact me over the years, no. But last year, someone very close to me was in Gotham. Someone whom I care about very much. And you come here now, as your colleagues from CIA came before you, and accuse me of withholding vital information from the time I was kept imprisoned. And you had your bad guy trapped and did nothing,” her voice shook with the pent up aggression, “nothing at all to stop him then. When you knew exactly where he was. And I almost lost everything dear to me again. So, Mr Brown, don’t come here anymore. I’m quite certain if you’d try to tackle this issue in, as you described, ‘the difficult way’,” she air quoted, giving way to all the frustration she held at bay before, “the amount of paperwork required for you to interrogate me lawfully would make you sit back and realize how pathetic this attempt is. I’m well aware what you are doing now is illegal.” She mocked him openly now, high on adrenaline. “Oh yes, I know you should be accompanied at least by Norwegian authority. And since I’m not a citizen? Boy howdy, how long does it take to get all papers through an embassy, yeah? You’ve fucked up. I never had anything to say to you, but now I will spite every other US agency that comes here as well, simply because you people never stopped to respect me enough to talk with me openly.” She paused for just two seconds before sneering the final ‘goodbye’, closing the door.

Bane was waiting for her on the stairs to the kitchen, out of sight. She squished beside him on narrow steps, and he hauled her to his lap, hugged her close.

“You were fierce,” he noted.

“The nerve of those people,” she hissed, “Treating every other country as their backyard. And right after they had a crisis developing over months, on their own turf, and didn’t do shit about it. Pisses me off.”

“Indeed?” The usual mockery was toned down, a false note hidden beneath the usual amusement.

“I think I finally tapped into those feelings for Dorrance, the residue that was left after all the time I worried about him as much as I dreaded what would happen with Bane the Terrorist. Now I think about them both at the same time, and both sides mix and intertwine. It’s so difficult to have the same person as both the victim and the oppressor.”

She sighed and cuddled more comfortably into Bane’s comfortable frame. She was warm, and content. Would it be wrong to stay like this until the end of days?

“We should leave,” he murmured into her hair, rubbing his lips on soft tresses.

“I don’t want to leave,” she complained. “I have dinner on the stove.”

Slow chuckle rumbled beneath her ear pressed to Bane’s neck.

 oOo

 Over the years living in the coast Helena grew to like silence. It was never the ringing in her ears from the absolute muteness around, but instead the calming white noise of nature. Rustle of leaves as branches moved under strong gusts of wind. Creaking of wood. Murmur of grass blades rubbing together, moving as if stroked with an invisible giant hand. Always there were some man-made noises adding to the experience, grounding her in the present. Blips of email notifications. Rustle of sheets, as her current envoy turned unhurriedly every other minute. Clacking of laptop keys. Whisper of paper, as pages of a book were turned almost silently. Or, as it was now, low murmur of a one-sided conversation, as Bane sat with laptop on his thighs and a headpiece on, engrossed in a discussion with one of his colleagues.

The chuckle was uncharacteristic, goofy and puffing in short bursts. Helena looked up from her novel surprised. She smiled, astonished with Bane’s carefree reaction. It was nothing out of the ordinary really, a man enjoying talk with a friend, but it didn't suit the image of this particular man. The fearsome killer snickering over some nerdy joke?

She sobered, catching the thought like an annoying fat fly, bringing it closer for detailed inspection, an analysis of its roots.

That had to be the heart of her inability to fully accept his return. She still thought of Bane the mercenary whenever she saw him. Tony the scientist was there if she read emails or talked over the phone. When in fact he was neither. Or rather both. Or someone in between the two, in the middle of the spectrum.

Her golden mean. Happy medium. Meden agan.

Tiredly she rubbed her cheeks with both hands, shifting on the sofa. Back at the monastery Bane was just himself to her. Both her ruthless kidnapper and avid listener. She knew some of his terrorist profile and saw only part of his scientific research. And still she was able to maintain a relationship, to want it, at least to some point.

Now she finally had the whole picture.

He wasn’t any different to how she remembered him to be. If anything, now he was more inclined to stay and live with her, a fact she knew but didn’t stop to wonder about until now. Regardless of the failure that was Gotham, he sacrificed a lot to come to her. What was to gain? For her a companion, and a friend that’s for sure. Another chance at seeing if she could build a lasting relationship, without the excuse of the partner being inadequate. Bane was her ideal, both thanks to his nature and merit, and not in small amount thanks to her own idealization of him.

But what made him decide, and prepare for, spending his days out in Norwegian province, away from everything his life up to this point has been? Was it the calm stability? The sleepy quality of every day being free to do everything or nothing at all?

He turned to her, broad smile stretching his lips and shrinking some of the scars.

Did it really matter why he was here?

Helena put away her book and slid her palm on his shoulders as she went past to the kitchen, taking the opportunity to leave a small kiss on his temple. She’d make some tea and then when he would be done they’d eat dinner and discuss what herbs to plant and what to bring to Grace and Graham’s Easter brunch.

After dinner Bane lounged in a chair, pensive, tapping slightly the forefinger of left hand on his lips. Steaming cup of tea sat forgotten on the table and his left foot dangled perilously close to it, balanced on his knee. It amused Helena for the first minute or so, watching him so engrossed in his own musings. He murmured something vaguely scientific at her soft inquiry, quantity of dark matter in young galaxies, which told her nothing but the fact that he was theorizing and wouldn't pay her any attention in the foreseeable future. Unless she were to become a young galaxy herself.

Smiling slightly at the prospect of becoming an example of a Greek myth, like Europa abducted by powerful and jealous being enamoured with her beauty, she settled back to read. It wasn't that far off from what actually happened but she wasn't young anymore. Neither of them were.

Rows of letters filled her vision like bars. They formed words, but she couldn’t focus on the text, aware that her prolonged observation resulted in usual and predictable side effect.

Even older, battered and scarred, Bane still was an alluring and enticing specimen. Forearms were thick with muscles cording under tanned skin even in their current relaxed state. T-shirt hugged his chest softly, hanging loosely over taut, strong stomach. He was formidable, the raw power visible even at a glance. Yet his biggest asset was his brain, the immense vastness of information he stored, calculations and possibilities thought over in a blink of an eye, the inexplicable creative surge that made him this much more unexpected and therefore - dangerous. Helena realized he was most threatening when he was like this, folded comfortably in quiet contemplation. Passive. All his ruinous intentions held at bay, unknown and malignant in the way that built dread if only one realized what might be coming.

Or, she corrected herself, since he wasn't a menace anymore this was the most promising sign. Bane developing ideas, straightening and widening path of science.

Forcing herself to look back again at her magazine she sighed slightly. He could talk to her and even if she wouldn't understand a word, his voice alone would be enough to make her cream. Who was she kidding. He was just sitting there, lost in thought, and it was all she needed to tingle with anticipation. But she closed that door herself. She refused him and then he stopped pursuing… And now she wanted to jump him.

“I'll take a nap,” she said, standing up abruptly.

Bane hummed but didn't otherwise react; it might as well be an acknowledgement of some thought that passed his mind at that moment.

She was silent when she scaled the corridor, but her head was bursting with complaints.  Why didn't she sit by him? Why didn't she just tell him she wanted him, right now? Why didn't she make that final step, the one she insisted he'd let her take?

On a whim she turned just before the guest room.

Did he hear her intrude on the intimacy of his bedroom? She smirked, disrobing carefully and methodically, down to her panties. He always had a soft spot for those. Although today regretfully she had only some regular cotton ones, an outrageously coloured pair with broad strip of lace out front as a sole ornament.

Immersing herself in Bane’s bed she sighed happily. That smell. She remembered it, and the way the sheets were after few of her visits, his fragrance mixed with hers and dirty smell of sex and sweat. She burrowed deeper, stretching comfortably on her stomach, pressing her head to the only pillow. The bed itself was broad, but as a practical man Bane wouldn't see a point in having more than the necessary on top of it. Even in the mattress was supple, the textiles luxurious…

“I hope you understand, there is no escape for you now.”

Helena smiled into soft cotton, angling her head a bit to the side.

“You think?”

“I'm positive,“ he growled sending her a warning glance, pausing for just a second in his stride. She let herself be swept away with curent of anticipation, aware of his movements but not entirely sure what his intentions were.The bed dipped when he reached it, kneeled over Helena and with gentle hand smoothed her hair to the side.

“I won't let you run from me ever again. And my way of securing that,” he mouthed over her delicate ear. She craned her neck, giving him easier access, huffing an unsteady breath out. “my way of securing that would be very simple and very effective. One that I know you'd like.” His fingers danced on top of her skin, tracing a throbbing line down her neck. She felt her abdomen contract in the ageless sensation, a sweet ache brought forward by mere proximity of the man she wanted.

“And what is that?” She smiled when he dipped his hand under her, grunting and cupping her breast, and pressing to her back more fully even through the sheet.

“All I need to do is keep you exhausted. In my bed.“ He taunted. “Wouldn't even need to tie you to it, I'm sure.”

“Oh, but I might like that,” she murmured, savouring his greediness when he impatiently clawed the sheet off and leaned back. She watched him in her peripheral, knowing the exact way his eyes were glistening as he appreciated flowing line of her exposed back, and the way bold shade of her lingerie cut striking lines accentuating her buttocks.

Hot mouth at the base of her neck was a surprise. A welcome one, but break in their pattern, one she still remembered after ten years apart. But he was free to use his mouth now, and Helena scoffed, mad at herself for submerging into the sensation deep enough to forget about that detail. Where was her obsession with his face, that need to touch and see it? Once she would be unrelenting until he’d let her kiss him, especially in the light of day.

It was so long ago...

“Do you remember that first night?” she asked, rising hips to allow him better hold, relishing strong palms circling slightly protruding bones.

“Yes,” he confirmed, voice sharp and strained.

Her back was engulfed in heat when he bore down, put his weight on top of her. One palm slid down in a stealthy movement while he distracted her with licks and nips and kisses around her shoulders and neck.

Helena dug her knees into the mattress, pressing up, rolling her hips to encourage his hand to hit its mark.

“I loved everything you did then,” she panted. Bane's fingers caressed hem of her panties, tickling taut skin on her abdomen. “But I always wanted to have it all finished with an addition of your mouth on my pussy at the end.”

He growled. Helena shivered at the sound and gripped the pillow, pressed her forehead down under weight of his hand tangled in her hair.

“Just like back then?” he asked, humid breath moving fine fuzz at the back of her neck, the one he obsessed over and over again, an eternity ago.

“Please.” The moan was so much more than a plea to continue.

An absolution. A promise. An admission.

Bane didn't waste time to check how ready she was, the evidence was clear to see when he gently slid her underwear off, glimmer of slick moisture sticking to the fabric, like a hair extending until it broke under the tension. The material was down to her mid-thigh, restricting her movement slightly, and his options along with it.

With a start he straightened, realizing only now he was still fully clothed.  

“Do you want me instruct you again?” she asked, turning to him with a laugh.

He was just throwing his t-shirt away, set already on unzipping his pants, his expression fierce and unforgiving.  

Helena gulped.

“On your knees,” he ordered.

Oh, she remembered what was to come now. The gentle and sensual part was apparently over. Helena hissed slightly, nerves zapped with sensation of Bane’s cock hot at her entrance.

He cursed under his breath and moved away, shuffling frantically in cupboard of the bedside table. In record time he fished out a silvery packet, opened it and rolled the condom out, stilling again right before making the last step.

“Bane…” Helena moaned.

He looked at her, from the top of round cheeks hid under his splayed palms, through enticing plane of her back, arched and twisted slightly to let her look at him from under fringe of tousled hair. Thin arms circled his pillow, fingers digging into soft fabric, one over and the other under her head.

She smiled and he pushed.

Home.

The pleasure punched him in the gut, bowing him down with the amount of relief it brought. Even despite near violent tremor that ran up his back he fought to keep his eyes open, filing the moment, committing it to the memory. His brows knitted with concentration and he had to bite his lip to suppress the surge of profanity threatening to spill. Nothing compared.

Underneath him, Helena was immersed in her own little world of sensation, moving in tandem with his thrusts, moaning and sighing in time with his tempo. Or maybe her tempo, Bane wasn't sure anymore. His hands gripped her hips, but did he pull her to him, or did he brace for stability, he didn't know himself. He was dizzy, light headed like after a good few glasses of whisky, spiralling further and further into that mindless feral place where nothing but pleasure mattered.

Vaguely he noticed she was further from the peak than him. And also, that little detail of not having his mask nagged on his mind. Of course. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Wasting such an opportunity, he was an imbecile. With pained whine he reached to his pelvis and pulled out, mindful of the contraption on his cock.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

Helena giggled and sat straight, reaching out to touch Bane's chest. He was having none of it. Two quick moves and she was flat on her back, a quick squeak the only reaction she managed before he was back on her, pushing to the hilt and swallowing her groan with his mouth. She gripped his face, fingers playing with ridges of his scars, stroking ears and scratching back of his neck just under his hair. Her tongue drew a slick insistent path over his lips, and he let her mouth some inconsequential nonsense over his cheeks and under his jaw, enjoying the delicate caress.

Too soon he was degraded to a grunting, grinding mess, desperately trying to reach oblivion,  focused solely on his own pleasure. He latched onto Helena's mouth, greedy, insistent and demanding, pumping with fast rhythm, faltering into a stutter. Helena scratched down his back, disentangling forcefully to draw a much needed breath and moan her hoarse cries off into the quiet of the afternoon. Bane was fast on her track, gripping her hair to bring her lips back to his, mouth hot and tight with growls.

Feeling the impending release he slowed, determined to savour the finish, just as he savoured sweat he licked off her skin, as he relished the breathy way she gulped air and violence of nails rising swollen welts on his skin.

“Look at me,” Helena whispered, cutting through his movement, forcing him to snap his head up. “Now.”

Just like that she undid him, all careful calculations and planning, every shred of control he thought he had, stripped off to leave him gulping air almost panicked, snuggling his face to the racing pulse at her neck. His hips moved strongly one more time and then he could only grind up in tight little circles, unable to stop the contact of overheated skin, addicted to moisture sticking them together everywhere. Sweat, saliva and her very own nectar. He regretted putting the condom on; wouldn't mind adding in his semen to the mixing then tasting it all in her, off her.

He remembered her comment then, the one she made while he still was mostly in the possession of his mind.

Wolfish grin spread slowly on his lips.

“I'm not done with you yet,” he warned.

Helena laughed, panting through last tremors of her high.

“I hope you never will be,” she admitted.

 oOo

 She knew falling asleep was a mistake.  

Boastful part of her wanted to believe her presence would be enough to placate his demons, to soothe the pain tensing his muscles and disrupting his rest. Foolish. Neither of them had a shred of control over the situation. She knew the awakening would be rude.

Just how rude though, she never would have guessed.

Without preamble she opened her eyes, staring at the sloping ceiling over her head. Her dreams stopped immediately when a hand constricted around her neck. It wasn’t threatening in the beginning, the pressure noticeable but more than bearable. But she didn't dare move. Gently she drew in breath a bit deeper, involuntarily shifting on his outstretched arm and that was enough.

His fingers closed, slowly, deliberately, building the tension of impending doom with practiced ease. Helena knew fighting was no use, and she tried calling to him. Softly, enticingly.

It was no use too.

Her pulse quickened when she had first trouble with swallowing, and out of sheer reflex her hand flew to his, and she dug her nails in, a feeble attempt at prying his paw off of her.

No use at all.

Ugly thoughts creeped into her mind. What if he won't let go? What if he uses the other hand too? What if he's not asleep? She felt dread like a physical sensation, washing like a cold and damp tendril slithering down her spine.

High pitched whine escaped her lips and she trashed, panicked now, trying to free herself at any cost, scratching, hitting, kicking, shouting.

In a second it was over and she was sat upright, halfway off the bed with her effort to get away. Strong arms held her close, pinned, restrained, braced to an overheated body.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…” Like a mantra behind her ear, in an uncharacteristic broken whisper, something she didn't suspect Bane capable of.

Her throat was raw, but nonetheless she greedily gulped big gusts of air, trying to remember all and any techniques to calm herself down.

She started inhaling in time with Bane’s slowing words, gradually coming down, tired with the rush of emotions she lived through just now. When she started trembling, he finally let her go.

“Do you want water?” He asked.

She nodded, thankful for the opportunity to sit still alone for a little while.

When he came from the kitchen she was almost back to herself. Bane didn’t apologize anymore, but the guilt was clearly visible in his eyes.

“I'll relocate to my room,” she said plainly. They both winced at how her vocal cords squealed.

Helena knew hiding from the issue would be the worst course to take. They should talk about it. Discuss the reasons, possibilities, paths to follow.

She was so tired with all that meticulous dismantling of every action, each thought, and all reasons behind them. All she wanted was a good night's sleep at Bane’s side, and maybe a repeat performance of their afternoon activity, followed by a carefree morning in the kitchen.

Fat chance.

“Stay for a while,” he said. It wasn't a plea. Neither an order. It sounded like both.

“What for?” she croaked out.

“If you go now you will associate me with what happened. I want to blur that memory,” he explained.

Helena huffed angrily, unsure what she wanted. It did make sense, of course it did. Then again, getting as far away as she could was quite logical too. After all he was the reason her neck was bruised; he could just as easily have her windpipe crushed. Why would she let him try his manipulative tricks now?

“Please,” he whispered. “Don't leave me.”

It was the knife all over again. He knew it was his doing, but had hardly any recollection of the fact. Helena was aware. She suspected there was dissociation, one he was trying to bridge with having her close now. As a reminder to him of what he had done. At the same time he would probably try to caress her to erase painful memory, overlapping it with a pleasurable one.

Reluctantly she shuffled to the bed, sitting on the edge.

He was miserable. Looked actually kind of afraid of her reaction.

“At least you didn't have any weapons close this time,” she smirked tiredly at him.

He gathered her close, easily pulling her to his lap. Rested his chin on the crown of her head. His body was dangerous to her as it was, without augmentation of steel in any shape or form. A terrible realization.

“I don't know what I would do if I'd hurt you more severely,” he whispered. “I'm sorry.”

“Will you agree to get some professional help?”

He didn’t answer and she tensed again, not bothering to hide the trepidation twisting her heart.

“Bane, please. I won't be able to continue like that.”

“I'll inquire into my options.”

“Thank you.”

She settled down for a while. It was good enough for now.

Bane absent-mindedly stroked her arms, fingers playing with downy hair, lips pressing to the crown of her head in gentle kisses. Neither of them could stay long like that, so eventually Helena stirred and slithered out.

“I should be going now,” she said with a smile.

“You should stay.”

Bane wa tense still. Plagued by what happened most likely.

“I promise I won't drink any poison while you won't be looking.” The poor attempt at a joke escaped Helena’s lips before she thought better.

“Stop joking about it.”

It wasn't a shout. Yet the palpable anger behind Bane's words stilled Helena on her way out. With stiff back she slowly turned.

“Why not?”

It was stupid impulse to nudge him closer to the edge and she knew it. But she had her defense mechanisms as well, her inadequacies and misgivings. Her nerves were bristling still from what transpired just minutes ago.

“Because I lost that child too. Before I even knew it existed. You took the decision away without so much as a courtesy acknowledgement in my direction.”

“That I did. I don't think it is a discussion you want to have right now.”

“How can you be so fucking calm?” he shouted, “I love you but you're so… detached. Is there any shred of humanity left in you to at least admit to yourself what you did?”

“You ask me about humanity? You! How many children you killed with hunger, rapes and violence during Gotham siege? Before that, with raids on civilians, or manipulation of local warlords, or whatever it was that you did as a mercenary?”

Her voice shook, tremors wracking her body like some great beast trying to get out.

“I never wanted to take part in any of that, let alone to be pregnant with you. With anyone! You want to know why I panicked like that? I was afraid you'd make me keep it. I loathed the thought of giving birth to it and then staying at the monastery, looking after it until you'd deem it grown enough to immerse into your little fucked up operation.” Tears welled and overflowed in an instant, hot and stinging. “I had nightmares where I was happy with just sitting there, caring for it and waiting for you,” she sobbed.

Bane was horrified, standing before her with fisted hands.

“I didn't want to like that idea. I didn't want to like you. I didn't want to give you any more power over me than what you already had,” she choked out, overwhelmed with strain of keeping the torrent of memories at bay, impossible once the dam she put up cracked. “What you took and what I so foolishly gave you.” Tears glistened in faint glow from the window, her palms impatiently smoothing over cheeks to get rid of them.

“I got it all regardless.”

His argument, although at face value cruel and impassive, calmed her down. She chuckled and settled visibly. Even her shoulders relaxed a bit.

“You did. You always get what you want.”

“The price is always too high.”

His fists remained closed, gripping nothing but his rage. Or maybe sadness. Clearly there was tempestuous brew of emotions raging in his head as well, even though he tried to maintain a steady, calm facade.

“Come to bed. I won't fall asleep. Just want to hold you.”

Helena kept staring at him, hesitant over her own desires and his true intentions. It was still hard to believe this terrorist, this merciless killer, was in some way dependant on her. Required her presence, her compliance, to feel well.

“Your schedule is already disrupted enough,” she argued. “We both should get rested as much as possible before tomorrow.”

That glimpse, the one she was inadvertently drawn to, was back in his gaze.

“To bed,” he commanded mildly. “Now.”

She scoffed, but the retort died in her throat when he reached out and tugged her close. Still he was gentle with her body, stroking her lightly to placate and relax. The mercenary was holding the reins, since the scientist failed at securing their objective.

“Don't fight me anymore. Not tonight.” Not ever, he added in his head.

To his visible relief she followed him between the sheets, settling a tad uneasily but silently beside him.

They both needed time to unwind, muscles still jumping occasionally with adrenaline leftover from the argument. Bane absentmindedly kissed Helena’s hair, taking the opportunity as he usually did to bask in the faint fragrance. This is what home smelled like. He had one now. Briefly his mind jumped to the memory of a night a short week past, when he emerged from his hallucination. He meant it when he said he was home. No other place shared that title, only the spot by Helena’s side. Whether it was at this cottage or anywhere else in the world.

It was his job now to protect it.

Even from himself.