#updated her skin and tattoos moved her face around a little bit

[sniiboo]

Connections

His vision was hazy, the scent of blood and fear filled his nose, and the pounding of his heart in his ears. He heard his voice weakly giving attempts at soothing as he heard her screams through the air. Everything came into sharp focus at the sound of infant cries…

Astarion bolted upright from his trance the sounds still ringing in his ears. His undead heart would be bursting through his chest walls if it could. He could hear the sound of Karlach’s voice floating over to his tent punctuated by the sound of large amounts of liquid hitting the ground. He stumbled from his tent the smell of blood once again assaulting his senses. 

“Hey Soldier, It’s ok… Just settle down.” Astarion rounded the corner of his tent to the sound of retching. He looked around to find Karlach holding Death’s hair as the elf was on all four heaving up a copious amount of blood. 

He found himself standing by them despite his disgust he leaned down to Arendith and stroked her back. “What is going on here Darling?” the calm and care in his voice surprised him and Karlach. He looked up to the Tiefling as he took over and gently tied his lover's hair back while Karlach moved over to grab a cloth and some water handing them to Astarion. 

“I found her out by the fire digging her nails into her arms, shivering, when I tried to talk to her she bolted… She fell here and started vomiting, Should I get Shadowheart… That’s some pretty da-” Karlach crossed her arms in concern before turning to get the cleric. 

Astarion quickly cut her off “It’s ok! I’ve got this. We had quite a bit of wine tonight so I’ll keep an eye on her. Red wine hangovers can be quite intense, Darling. I’ll shout if anything…” He bent down further taking her shaking form into his arms. He wasn’t sure why he was doing this for someone he had only known for a few weeks. He’d even recently opened up to her about Cazador and some of the torture he’d endured.

“Ok, thanks Fangs. Keep me updated.” Karlach planted a gentle kiss on Arendith’s head watching as Astarion took her to his tent. 

Once inside he placed her gently on his bedroll and wrapped her in a blanket. Astarion sat in front of her and wiped down her face attempting his best to do it as softly as she had just a tenday prior. He stayed silent and poured a cup of water for her resting it beside her for when she was ready. He knew what this was right away. It had happened to him as well but he had managed to keep himself together. Astarion gently reached for her hands unfurling her clenched fists and wiping them of blood before moving to clean up her arms. 

“I’m afraid your manicure will have to wait, darling. You’ve all but destroyed your pretty nails.” he looked into the far-off look in her eyes, wishing he could summon her little beloved companion jackalope. “Where is Beans love? Should I call for her?” he wrinkled his nose taking in her appearance, bloody vomit speckling her outfit and chest. He grabbed a fresh cloth, a basin, and a soap bar. “Alright Little Death” he shuffled closer to her unsure of how to proceed. “Ah, I’m going to…” He paused and watched her lower lip tremble “Maybe I should go get Karlach” Astarion went to stand up and paused when he felt her familiar tingle in his brain, he gasped as he was assaulted with images in quick succession of each other. 

Arendith fell to her knees as a leather leash yanked her forward. A metal muzzle is attached to a metal collar as she is commanded to hunt. Arendith writhes in pain as her head is retrained by someone, a tattoo needle puncturing her lip while a man laughs in the background. Arendith is in a cell bloodied and beaten chained to a wall while a drow male screams above her. Starvation is all he feels aching at his core.

He’s brought back to himself, his skin prickling, the taste of bile in his mouth. Astarion looks up into her face and reaches to place his thumb on the lip and chin tattoo before leaning in. “Death… I…” 

Arendith shakes her head, and he sees her really for the first time as she is with no mask. Her eyes are dull, her skin is more grey than normal, and even her freckles are pale. He knows she’s starved, but even more than that she’s tired. It’s like she hasn’t been trancing or at least not well. He whispers the name unsure as to how he even knows of its existence. “Alistair…” his lips curl in a snarl which he quickly tampers as her eyes blow wide. 

Astarion finds himself floundering just sitting on his knees. He reached forward pausing as his lover flinches. “I… I’m just going to clean you up Darling…” his cool fingers gingerly swept the shoulders of her dress down. “I’m sorry, I know it’s cool, but once you’ve cleaned up we’ll warm you back up.” He wiped the cloth gently over her sweat-glistened chest his fang catching on his lip in concentration. “Alright my sweet” he patted her rump gently before standing “I’m going to fetch something, I’ll be gone but a moment.” He grabbed a spare shirt and placed it beside her watching as her eyes flared in fear again, body squirming unable to contain the panic within. 

Astarion’s pale hand grabbed her chin gently again to center her. “Arendith, you are safe here. He won’t be able to walk into this camp and get you any more than Cazador would be able to grab me. Karlach would throw them straight to the hells. Not to mention our other companions. Trust me…?” He kissed her hand and let her eyes hold his for a moment before he dropped her hand thankful that lying came so easily to him. He knew if he didn’t believe the words out of his mouth she wouldn’t but it may help her feel more secure. He stepped out of the tent careful to block anyone’s view. Everyone was stumbling about the fire wondering what the noise was about. Karlach walked over and he gave her a quick request for Gale as he handed her a jar from his stores. Astarion paused before entering “I’m coming back in Little Death. Just use your words if you aren’t decent.” 

He looked behind him to glare at anyone making fun of his softness or the use of the nickname but found them all looking at him tersely, concerned for their leader trying not to look like they were prying as Gale busied himself warming up Astarions’ meal. After not hearing her response, he pulled back the tent flap to find her standing shyly in his ruffled shirt billowing on her body. He stiffened slightly willing his body not to react. Something possessive in him screamed at seeing her in his clothing. Astarion wasn’t sure why he was so concerned over this elf, or why she was having the effects over him that she was. But he chalked it up to pulling on the threads of his trauma and nobody deserved to experience anything close to what he had. He swallowed hard and decided to file his issues under ‘to deal with later/preferably never’ and stepped into the tent, extinguishing a few candles to dim the lighting for her senses. He reached out for her hand gingerly as he sat down behind her.

As Death sat shakily between his legs, he pulled her closer as he wrapped a blanket around the two of them. Astarion’s nose was nudging up her neck as he settled into the position as Gale opened the tent flap.

“Astarion honestly I don’t know what you’re playing at asking for reheated dinner while Arend…” 

He paused as two sets of red eyes glowed in the tent and Gale took in the sight before him. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER?”

Astarion growled lowly in his throat but before he could do much more Arendith snarled at the wizard and yelled “NOTHING, JUST LEAVE THE BLOOD AND GO BACK TO BED.” she paused. “THAT GOES FOR ALL OF YOU OUT THERE I CAN HEAR YOU ALL.” she heard Karlach snickering before her mothering instincts took over and she herded Gale back to his tent. 

“We’ll handle this all in the morning everyone, Astarion has her in check I’m on watch so don’t bother sneaking out to try to pull anything!” Karlach chided the group. “Night Soldier, Fangs… I’ll be here if need be ok?” she left and closed the tent flap on her best friend and the vampire knowing she’d be safe.

Astarion grabbed the goblet and sipped it cautiously checking the temperature he placed it aside for his snack after what he needed to do. He sat on his knees in front of the female elf “Are you still nauseated?” he looked her over for any signs of further stress noting the slow gallop of her heart as Arendith shook her head. “Ok,” he shuffled her legs into a V as he settled in between them moving his shirt from his neck “If you didn’t eat earlier you’ll need to feed now. Your body needs to recover.” he crooked his neck revealing the twin puncture wounds before he dropped his voice to barely above a whisper, shy in his words. “Please… let me repay the favour. I don’t know that I’ll taste as good as anyone, well, living… But it’ll do what you need.” He paused waiting for the feeling of her nuzzling to his neck to sus out her place, or for a bite… or for well, anything really but nothing came. He turned his head to regard her and found her eyes closed head pointed down to the ground a look of pain and shame on her face. 

Arendith’s voice left her wavering and gravely “Astarion… I… I can’t.” 

He spun around to face her his trademark flirty tone back “What do you mean you can’t? I’m right here Darling, ready, willing, and offering. Just bite…” his hand flourished.

Death curled her upper lip at him aggressively “YOU THINK I WOULDN’T LOVE TO?! I. CAN’T. BITE.” her curled lip swapped to a subtle smirk before she quickly moved her head into his space making a show of sniffing up his neck “At least I can’t bite to feed.” she nipped her fangs against Astarion’s ear. “I can bite in plenty of other ways…” 

Astarion rolled his eyes before putting his hand to grip over her face while pushing her away. “You didn’t let me get away with that. Ergo you aren’t either pet. I thought we used our words and not our body.” 

Arendith huffed against his hand “Don’t call me pet I hate it… Alistair called me that.” she paused searching his face to see if he’d drop the topic. “What do you want me to say… You have your scars… I have mine, only mine are cursed to stop me from biting anything without his permission, which obviously I cannot get.” she pointed to her chin tattoo “Not that he ever gave it if he could. Unlike the others I couldn’t be compelled so he saw fit to find ways he could control me.” she kept her eyes to the ground not wanting to see any pity in his eyes but looked up when she saw him move. 

A pale hand holding a goblet extended into her view offering the goblet. “Please, eat… I already ate, I honestly got this warmed for you…” he set it beside her before lying on his side. He watched as she eagerly drank down the blood feeling saliva pool in his mouth, again finding himself hungry for her. Astarion came back to himself to find her looking down at him with heavy glowing eyes. He reached up to wipe the trail of blood from her upper lip and sucking it off his thumb. Arendith smiled at him before leaning down to kiss his nose gently.

“I’ve already taken up a lot of your rest… I’m sorry.” She stood up and opened the tent flap “You know… I’d throw your words back at you and say you’ve given me a gift. But that isn’t quite right… Unless a person can be a gift… Then that is what you are…” 

Before he could reply she left his tent probably to join in on the cuddle puddle of Karlach, Beans, Scratch, the Owlbear, and that darn cat. How she slept in such chaos was beyond him. He blew out the remaining candles and palmed at himself trying to shift his discomfort as his mind reeled. As he settled into his bedroll to resume his trance he was brought from his daydreaming by the shuffle of his tent flap moving once again. 

“Death?” he mumbled sleepily, as he opened his eyes to scan the room he saw nothing but darkness. He sat up looking for the source of the disturbance before his eyes settled on that damned curious creature sitting at the door tail curled in on its body. He rolled his eyes “And what will you be wanting?” he laid back down hearing the creature chirp. “Well come on then.” he huffed as the Ragdoll sauntered up to nose its way under his blankets. “Oh for the love of- Why aren’t you with the damned druid and her ‘Cuddle puddle’.” he half mocked. The cat nuzzled into the crook of his arm, purring away happily under the protection of his body and the bedding. Astarion scritched the cat under its chin before wrapping his arm around its warm body. “This stays between us Kitten. Sleep well.”

[android-anthology-hub]

A Robot and a Girl - Part 2

So continuing on with the updates, here's part 2 of A Robot and a Girl. And this is our introduction to Himari, one of our support characters for D'Anna. ^_^

You can of course also check out this chapter on Fiction Press, Ao3, and Tapas.

Himari held tight to the frame of the landing doors, her small but sturdy frame holding fast against the rush of air that whipped at her steel gray hair.

She looked out into the solar shaft, the golden yellow diamonds on her shoulders standing out in the morning light against her dark skin.

“Look alive! Get your goggles on, all of you. A stray bolt or driver blade won’t care about cybernetics if you’re not careful!” Himari called out as the aerial craft touched down on the workshop’s landing pad. “Let’s see what they need!”

The workshop crew quickly went to work as they all rushed out onto the landing pad, a wild mishmash of hand-dyed fabric, alloy, and paint. What bound them together was their emblem, golden yellow - the color of the workshop - tattooed, etched, or sprayed onto one arm or another.

She never could help but have a proud smile on her face when she stood beside them.

A young android ran up beside her, their voice ragged as they caught their breath, “Pilot sent our passenger’s papers ahead, once they’re ready and onboard they’ll just be part of the flight crew.”

“Alright, now we just–”

As she stepped out onto the platform they all stopped - the diamond at the center of their emblems pulsing with light as a bell tone sounded in the shop.

Someone was at the door.

“I’ll catch up!” she called out, turning to the young android beside her, “Think you can cover for me?”

“Just fine, ‘mari,” they said with a grin, optical sensors flickering as they stepped out into the whirlwind of the solar shaft.

Himari looked back just as she got inside, “And be careful!”

The workshop was a wide and towering warehouse, big enough to haul in any aerial craft that needed to hang around for more than a pitstop. 

And yet, it was home. In every little space they could, they left their mark, they made it theirs.

They’d worked for months just to expand the old office into the massive loft that now dominated the back half of the workshop. One of them - though none of them could ever remember who - managed to find some great old couch from the upper towers; no one was even sure how they got it up the stairs.

A little work and it just became another piece of home...

With a few taps to the emblem tattooed on her arm, the monitor beside the inner door at the back corner lit up.

"Entry camera," Himari said, stopping at the control for the door. "Let's see who it is."

She raised a brow as the camera view came online - D'Anna, and she wasn't alone. With a small smile, she slid the door open with a simple turn of the switch.

She practically yanked the taller woman through the door, “D’Anna! It’s been months since your last visit, you should drop by more.”

"I've been a bit busy," D'Anna sighed, a slight smile on her face.

She looked past her side to Rosi and the mechs behind her, "Right..."

Himari sighed and waved them all in through the door, "Come on, come on. We're in the middle of a drop."

She closed the door behind them as they made it inside, waving them behind the machinery that held the landing platform outside. 

There were plenty of moving parts in here, and she’d sure as hell keep any of them from stepping in them.

"I'm sure you remember where to go," she said with a smile.

D'Anna smiled back, polite but warm as the others followed her, "you haven't moved that mech table have you? Some of these people could use it."

“Closer to the commons up in the loft, keep folks company while they’re getting patched up,” she said as she ran to meet up with the young android from her crew. 

His optics shifted behind the goggles as he looked down at her, a thick line of sensors running across where his eyes should be. 

“Alright, what do we have to work with?”

"Something's up with their atmo-drivers, I gave them a look, and I think there's a short in a couple of the coils," he explained as the two of them returned to the landing pad.

She pulled the clip off her safety belt, locking it onto the magnetic rail that ran the length of the platform with a single, practiced swing.

"Let's check out those coils then!"

They had seventy minutes to finish their work and get their passengers on board before they had to pack it in.

And still, the clock ticked down…

“You moved the path,” D’Anna’s voice was soft as she leaned against one of the shop's support beams, watching everyone work in the bay below.

"Heh, you almost sound worried about us,” Himari chuckled, looking out to the crew - her family - as they quickly got the craft in the air, and back on its descent down to the landing docks at the bottom of the shaft.

A bell tone sounded outside with ten minutes still left on the clock, a voice crackling out that sector security was inbound. All of them were ready, rushing back in before the platform started to retract, and the doors closed.

Security’s last raid had been far too close.

D'Anna bit her cheek as she looked back at Rosi and the others chatting with some of the crew coming up from below in the commons, “because I am, ma’am.”

“So formal!” Himari wrinkled her nose, her Japanese a harsh but welcome huff as she elbowed the other woman, “Don’t you go calling me ma’am, I’m not that old just yet.”

D’Anna didn’t answer immediately, hands fidgeting in her lap, golden knuckles standing out against the red of the early morning light that came through the bay windows.

She still remembered that scared young lady that came to her door, wrapped in synth-silk, and clutching a scrap of paper with the workshop’s diamond on it. Back then, even as scared as she was, she stood tall and harsh. Himari didn’t know who she had something to prove to, but even then she couldn’t turn her away. It was years ago, and still, it felt like only a short time…

She swore she sounded like a grandmother in her own head sometimes.

"Can you… take them in?" D’Anna asked.

Himari couldn't help but roll her eyes at the young android.

She cared, she knew that all too well.

“Have I ever said I can’t in the past? If I really couldn’t do this, I’d be out there playing boss on one of those aero-craft or a land-ship. I’m up here, and this little crew of ours will do what we can for them. Like always.”

She sighed, shoulders sagging as she watched Rosi get patched up on the mech table, "I know."

Himari turned and looked Rosi over as some of the crew patched them up, eyes lingering on the ionization burns and tow cable damage on their plating, "Shock and Haul, hmm?"

"...yeah, yeah I think so."

She frowned as she clenched her fists, “Rotten little thing, using an arc gun like that. It’s supposed to be a welder, a--a cutter! Not some damn stun gun.”

“I know…”

“Well,” Himari grunted as she rose to her feet, old joints complaining as usual, “let’s see what we can do for them.”

It was good to see D'Anna smile at her again.

With a wry smile, Himari nudged her on their way into the commons together, “So, what’s the job this time?”

“Really?” she raised a brow, golden eyes glancing up with a soft chuckle. “Search and rescue.”

She cracked her knuckles as she came over to the mech table, gently shooing the others to the side.

“Let me have a look at them,” Himari sighed as she closely examined the damage, the young android from before handing her a pair of scanning goggles. “...and the ko nashi that you had to rescue them from?”

Rosi’s eyes flickered on for a moment, glancing between the two of them as they spoke, “I…believe I saw him tied to a table.”

She let out a barking laugh, “Ha ha! Serves him right! Now, I’m going to need you to shut down for a bit so I can check your circuits. Okay?”

Rosi’s eyes let out a nervous click as they adjusted and adjusted again. They looked from Himari to D’Anna with a silent question.

“You’re in good hands, Rosi,” D’Anna soothed, bearing a smile she rarely showed anyone. “Himari here is the lead mechanic.”

“The medic too, don’t pretend you haven’t been ducking me. I need to check your shoulder replacement. And don’t think I didn’t see that burn either,” she said as she looked up through her goggles. “I swear you need to be more careful with those fists of yours.”

“Well ma’am it was either my fists or a core resetter to the face,” she deadpanned.

Himari froze there, clenching her tools tight as she turned back to D’Anna.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Rosi looked back and forth between them before promptly shutting their eyes off again, “Powering down now…”

“Good idea, Rosi,” Himari said with a growing frown. “Good. Idea.”

Himari frowned as she looked D'Anna over while they sat in the commons, D’Anna’s coat hanging off her chair. And all the while, the young android wouldn’t look her in the eye.

They’d argued the whole time she was working. Every moment it was just the same routine that she wished they could change. D’Anna never wanted to talk about it, never wanted to worry her. 

For the moment she tried to focus on bandaging her hand… But there were far more scars than she was comfortable with, more than she saw the last time she was in.

Her blood boiled in a familiar silence that she hated.

“I know it’s dangerous,” D'Anna said, soft-spoken as ever. “But...it’s the job.”

It didn’t have to be, they both knew that.

“You know the crew here misses you.”

“Ma’am, please don’t start…”

“Kiite kuremasu ka!” Himari sighed and rubbed at her brow, “I–I worry about you, okay? This is dangerous work you’re doing.”

D'Anna frowned as her voice grew louder, harsher, “And this job is safe, Himari? What would happen if security found us here?”

She looked Himari right in the eye, freehand curling into a fist as she kept at it, “What if they weren’t in a charitable mood? How would it be any safer than what I do now?”

Himari took a deep breath, biting back so many arguments they’d had before as she stared at the surgical scar on her shoulder.

She wouldn’t shout, not this time.

Slowly D’Anna relaxed, letting her shoulders sag as she looked down at the floor.

She knew she hated the silence too…

“I will always be grateful for my time here, ‘Mari,” D'Anna said, laying a hand over hers as she met her gaze. “But I’ve got work of my own.”

“Orokana… Why you stick your neck out like this, I’ll never know,” she sighed, shaking her head. 

She took a glance over at the mech table, mechanical arms carefully holding Rosi’s exposed frame. 

“Your friend’s plating should be repaired soon.”

D'Anna gave a bow and a polite, but small smile as she spoke, “thank you, for everything you’ve done for me.”

“You’re welcome,” Himari sighed, looking down at her bandaged hand, “I don’t mind helping the people you bring here. I… just wish you could be safer.”

“I know, ‘Mari, I know…”

The quiet was the part of their routine she hated most. But in some ways, they needed it, if only for a few moments.

She kneaded at her brow as she worked through her thoughts, taking it slow as she spoke, “Where to next for you? Where’s home for your friend?"

“Family in the Upper Towers Sector.”

D’Anna gave her hand a few testing flexes, joints barely humming as she stretched her shoulder.

She laced her fingers in thought, looking D’Anna in the eye as she spoke, “How you make getting in and out of the towers look so easy, I’ll never know.”

“I’ve...got friends in a few places.”

“Hmm,” Himari broke into a small chuckle. “So do I, you know. I’d love to know their name someday.”

Before either of them could continue, they heard a soft tone as Rosi came over to them, looking as good as new.

She couldn’t help but admire their workshop’s handiwork.

“Apologies,” Rosi said, their eyes refocusing as they looked between the two women, “I just wanted to know when we would be going. I…don’t wish to keep Cole waiting.”

“Well then-” Himari grunted as she got up, her joints complaining the whole way as she rose to her feet. “-you two have had a long night. And I think the others are settling in just fine.”

Rosi couldn’t smile, but there was something in the way their eyes shined that made Himari smile back at them. She’d had plenty of time to get used to reading those little expressions in these mechanical eyes, the way some of her crew would have a bounce in their step when they were happy, or bear the full weight of their frames when they were down.

She knew D'Anna saw it too from the look on her face as she went to Rosi’s side.

“I’ll meet you at the door,” D'Anna said with a reassuring smile, squeezing their hand.

Rosi tilted their head for a moment, almost studying her bandaged hand before quickly nodding and heading off.

“Of course.”

Himari just kept smiling as she joined her at her side, laying a gentle hand on her arm.

“You’ve been up all night,” she sighed, looking up at D'Anna as she chuckled. “Not exactly a recipe for a good night’s sleep.”

“I know, I know,” she sighed, giving her a small, apologetic smile.

“You should come by again soon, if only for a meal. I meant it when I said the crew misses you.”

D'Anna looked down at her for a moment before giving a firm nod, “I’ll try.”

She lightly punched her arm, giving a nod in Rosi’s direction, “Go on now, you’ve gotta get them home.”

“Yes ma’am.” D'Anna said with a growing smile as she headed off, ignoring the indignant shout that followed after her.

[rags-writes]

Fandom: Call of Duty

Series: Part One of Through The Scope

Tags/Warning: Smut 18+, a little bit of Enemies to Loves, Little torture more like rough interrogation in the part i have to edit

Requested By @crissteetee67, thank you for requesting this. It turned into a small series and an oc that I'm starting to love.

A/N: This is a rough edit and will be updated with a new post and this one will delete. I hope you will enjoy what I have posted. I will be closing my request for the moment. I applied for an apartment and will be finding out Monday if I got it and I will be working on my first novel as well.

Summary: Ghost through his scope sees someone he knows caught in a lie.

Lies Through The Scope

Ghost shifts into his position along the ridge of the cliff, looking though the scope at soap as he makes his way to the gate. The guards spot him and force him to his knee as they figure out what to do with him. ghost finger twitch on trigger ready to act if they decide to shoot Soap. lucky they don’t and he disappears into the compound and ghost starts to look around the building. 

 Over comms Alejandro confirms he was in the building and before ghost could say "Copy" Alejandro next words seem like ice dropped down the back of his shirt. "Ghost your woman is here, on the lower balcony."

"What you on, Alejandro?" Ghost's face tightens but he moves his scope to the lower balcony. He stomachs drop once his eyes land on who Alejandro was talking about, leaning on the railing with a Cigarette between her lips. Her shirt cut showing a mark he left on her unless then 48 hours ago. 

(48 hours earlier)

Ghost lets a sigh out as he glances around the bar, Soap loud laugh causes his ears to ring.  He thinks about smacking him (again) but just swallows the last bit of his bourbon. pulling down his mask back over his chin when a whine came from his left side. 

 "Aw don't cover your sexy jaw." 

 He heads snaps over and witness a woman slam her head onto the table, arm wrapped around but he sees her ear turn red. She mumbles out, "please tell me I didn't say that out loud."

Her head lifts a bit, and she sets her eyes on him, huff of laughter leaves her lips as she asks. "Can you pretend I never said that?"

 "No." He replies, there's a twitch of his lip at her pouting face. She stands up from her seat and walks over to the seat next to him. As she sits down, she tells him. "Fine then buy me a drink."

 It was his turn for a small laugh replying. "O really."

 She looks up at him, head tilts, and hair moves to show the column of her neck. His eyes are drawn to it like magnet, she moves, and like a spell breaking he looks at her face. She smirks at him, leaning against his arm, he tenses at her warmth that soaked his skin. pausing for a heartbeat then she slowly places her hand on his wrist, finger trancing his heart tattoo. the bar falls silent, not even soap shouting could distract him for her as she whispers. "Pretty please."

 He melts at the plea, grabs the bartender’s attention with a wave and calls out. "The lady would like a drink."

 And soon enough the bartender slides an overly colored drink glass to him, with a brow raise as he hands it to her, asking "What the hell is that?"

"It's a type of galaxy cocktail."

 he nods as she takes a drink trough the straw, eyes staring up at him and her hand still brushing his skin. goosebumps run up his arm at her touch, she leans more on his arms, he eyes fell to her pump lips. They curl up as she asks. "what’s your name, handsome?"

"Ghost." he says, head tilts to the side only for a moment before answers.

She snorts out. "What kind of name is that?"

"Why? Are you scared?" He teases leaning down, his upper body towering over her. Her laugh sounds like bells to him, not the loud annoying one, the soft gentle one as she tells.

"Nah, my Abuela use to talk to ghosts all the time."

 He nods then asks. "What about your name?"

"Maria." She says, short and sweet before adding. "What is a foreigner like yourself doing here? Vacation?"

 Ghost chuckles at her question. "No..." he trails off before clearing his throat. "I here to pick something up in couple of days? what about you?"

He changed the focus back off him, he definitely didn’t want to think about work. not with someone so beautiful.

"Ah" she starts, looking unsure exactly what to say. "I'm an actress of sorts, nothing famous but locally stuff."

 They spent the next hour talk, nothing to important, he avoided anything about the cartel and she most told old ghost story from her Abuela. After a while Ghost notices that Soap, r and a were gone, pulling his phone, glances at it to read two messages. The first one was from Soap and read-

[Don't do anything I wouldn't do 🥵🤣]

The next was from Alejandro -

[Have fun my friend, and wear protection 😉😂]

The was r and it was Ghost's favorite, it simply said-

[We got Soap back to the base. Stay Safe friend.]

"Did your friends abandon you?" Maria asks, chin laying on his arm, doe eyes look up to him. His arms move make her back up as it wraps around her and pulls her close to his side sigh out.

"Seem like it."

 she leans up a purr in his ear. "You poor thing, want me to take you home."

 It is an invitation, he knows that, but it doesn’t stop next words from tumbling out of his mouth, he had to be sure. "To yours?"

 "If you like that is?"

 Again, she places the choice in his hand, reaching up and pulling up his mask to his noses, leaning down until he can feel the puff of her breath whispering. "Do you want to take me home?"

 She chuckles, he feels the vibration from it on his lips, she leans up more and against his lips, telling. "Very much."

 Groaning when her lips slot themselves against his, hand gasping the side 9f her head. They stay there for a minute, a mix of tongue and clashing teeth, he tastes her drink yet there's no taste alcohol on her tongue just fruit. He thinks about switching his drink preference for a moment before she starts pulling away, he does the only logical thing. Chase. He chases her, a foot planting itself on the ground from the bar stool he sat on as he leans forward taking her lip with his own again.

 He draws her back him, trailing kiss from her mouth, down her jaw to her neck, drinking the breathless sigh she gives. He started pulling at her shirt, urge to bite and mark was strong, but he didn't want to do where she couldn't easily hide it later if she wanted to. as he tug the shirt just enough out of the way to place his teeth against her skin when a someone clear their throat. 

 Pulling away he hear the bartender tell them in Spanish. "okay, lovebirds, take this anywhere but here."

 Maria laughs as she tells the bartender. "Sorry sir we're leaving now."

 She stands up from her stool, pulling ghost off his, hand in hand they walk out into the street [place cannot remember]. There’s music playing down the street but they walk away from it, as it grows quite he can hear her humming a tune. It is a nice tune, one he doesn't recognize. 

 It was not long before she stopped and turned into a building, it seemed like a long term hotel, they take the  Elevator to the top floor. When the doors open it reveals a small hallway or entrance way, he really doesn't know the difference, and two doors.

Maria steps up to the left door and opens it with a key, she slips out of her pocket. Hand still locked together, she pulls him through the door. She turns letting go of his hand once they are inside, body press against him, the echo of the door shut in his ears.  He goes to lean down to pick up where they left in the bar when she jerks back.

 His muscles freeze as a cold sweat starts, mind races thinking he gone something wrong when she says. 

"Hey sorry, don’t mean to freak you out but I have two guns here. one in a safe, not loaded at all, and the other in my nightstand by the bed, load but safety on."

He relaxes at her words but confusion made his brow crease visible under the mask and she must have misunderstood it at discomfort and her next words warm he in an unfamiliar way. "If you want I can go and place it in the safe or you can grab it and place it on the dining table."

 He near picked her up and taken her against the wall but he stopped, asking. "You sure you don't mind me grabbing it?"

 Her smile sets off another round of butterflies in his stomach as she reassures him. "Yes, it fine I promise, it the first door on the left when you get to the dining room."

 He nods and walks the hall until it opens up into the living room space through a door on the other leads him to the dining room. He find her bedroom quickly, when he head inside he goes straight to the closes nightstand and that was his mistake. Truthful he probably should have asked which one it was but looking at the content in the drawer, he doesn't regret his mistake.

 The drawer contains all sorts of wonder item, for the simple egg vibrater to an odd number of rabbits. He spies a handcuff and few bundle of rope, not touching just leaning to see... he chuckles as his suspicions are confirmed as he get a peak of a black leather collar with a silver chain. he almost light with his blood filling his cock. 

 He closes the drawer and walks to the other nightstand, adjusting himself for comfort. Open it, grabbing the simple hand gun. to himself only, hell admit he was disappointed, the gun didn’t seem to fit her. The gun, itself was well taken care of, clean regular and safety on, that sparks the butterflies again. hold it safely as he walks out of the room to the dining room where maria waiting for him by the table. a smirk spread on his face under the mask as he set the gun on the table, calling out. "I like you collection."

 His smile widened at the flush amply appearing on her cheeks, walking around the table stopping in front of her. cupping her cheek, thump brushing the rose in it, her hand comes up to his mask. she starts to roll it up and once it reaches his nose, his hand grabs hers without thought. She stops her actions and whispers. "It can stay on, I won’t move it any further then this."

 ghost squeezes her hand before bending down and capturing her lips groaning at her taste. swiping his tongue over her lips, her moan lets him have accept to deepen the kiss.  grabbing her hip pulling her to him until they are flush together, no room in-between them. He grind his hip into her stomach, a moan rips from his lips as she reaches between them and cups his cock through his pants. 

 They break apart, panting, slipping their shirt over their head before grabbing each other again. Her hand sliding up his side and then scratching his back, he cups and squeeze her ass. 

Grabbing her thigh and lifting her, her legs wrapping themselves around his hips. Lips trail down her neck to nip at her collarbone as he walks them back into her room. Her moans encouraged him to bite harder, one hand slides up her back and smoothly unhook her bra. as the straps fall off her shoulders as she breathless whispers. "Damn that was hot."

 His hum vibrates against her throat as he walks to her bed, stopping before he hits the edge. darkening one of the marks on her collar then he mercilessly dumps her on the bed causing a gasp to be rip from her lips. A smirk greet her wide eyes as she stare up at him, take a moment before sit up and slips her bra off. She gives him a smirk in turn at his hitch breath at her tits before leaning back on her elbows.

 He takes a moment to admire her but his pulsing cock drives him to take action. Leaning down, unbutton her pants and with a few tugs, they slide off of her, he throws them to the floor. Taking one knee and placing on the bed as she sit up again, her hand going directly to his pant.

 Rubbing his cock through the material has him pause and let out a quite moan before she goes to unbutton the pant. Once they are undone she goes to grab his full hard cock through his boxers but he grab her hand before she can. Moving his knee off the bed and bending down to undo his boot before stepping out them and the pants. 

Both only clad in their underwear his climb into the bed as she scoots up to the headboard. Crawling over her and slow placing half his weight on her, keeping mostly on his forearms, he kiss her. Grind his clothed cock into her core slowly, swallowing her moan but something across his mind. Pulling down and looking down at her flush, panting face, now shifting into one of confusion, she calls out. "What's wrong?"

 "Condoms?" He asks, doing a poor job of hiding his breathless state as understanding flashes in her eye and she replies quickly with.

 "The bottom drawer of left nightstand."

 Nodding, Ghost quickly leans over and opens the drawer, with the dim light from the window see a few boxes of different sizes. Picking the largest of the size and sending a small prayer that it would fit without breaking, cursing himself for not being prepared and not bring his custom make ones. Quickly ripping it open and removing his boxer as gracefully as possible, rolls the condoms on. 

It's tight but it does fit and he turns back the her, just in time to see her toss her underwear across the room. A smirk curls her lip as he climbs back on top 9f her, connecting their lips together that builds up to him grabbing a fist full of her hair. Giving it an experimental tug and at her appreciating moan, his tugs hard get a louder moan as her head is pulled back. 

His lips begin to work their way down her neck, pause to deepen the marks he made earlier. Hand release her hair, comes to cup one of her tits, rubbing it gently until he give the hardening nipple a pinch. 

 "Fuck," she moans out. between him sucking marks around her collarbone, his mask rubbing her delicate skin and the abuse her nipple just endured  her count was pulsing with need. She tries to get fiction against it by thrusts up but he just applies pressure with his waist, she groans at feeling of his cock against her stomach. It was so large against her and she wanted nothing more than to have it inside her but before she could voice that his lips take her abused nipple. 

 His tongue soothing it as his other hand started pinching her other one, her mind blank out for a moment. Soon he switches to her other nipples but only for a moment before he trails down her stomach. reaching her thighs, placing one over his shoulder, spreading her soaked cunt giving her a hum of appreciation at the sight. giving the thigh on his shoulder a few kiss then sucking a mark onto it before trail his lips to her cunt, taking taste with a small lick. he moans out. "Fuck you taste delicious."

 leaning back down he wraps his lips around her clit, suck as she moan, thrusting her hip up. He just laces his hands together over her hips and pins her to the bed as he laps at her folds. She starts to beg after a few minutes of his teasing tongue. "Please give me more... inside, Ghost."

 "Like this." he asks, sticking his tongue as far in as possible and she shouts at him.

 "No, your cock, please."

 "Oh, why didn't you say so." He said teasingly, raising to his knees only for her to try and kick him with her leg. In turn he smack the skin where the ass and thigh meet and she cry out but it wasn’t one of pain. smirking at her panting form, her leg had slid off his shoulder, but he holds it in the crook of his elbow. checking to make sure the condom was still secure before asks. "You ready?"

 She glares up at him and groans out. "I’ve been ready since the bar, just waiting on you asshole." 

 he leans over, pushing her leg near flat against her stomach, his lips brushes her ear as his whisper, nearly growling. "if you don’t stop being a brat you won’t cum at all tonight."

 She goes to say something but as soon as her mouth opens his hand grabs it, squeezing her cheek forcing them to keep her mouth open. the words come out all jumble as she tries to talk, he mocks her. "I’m sorry I can't hear you, pretty."

 She tries to shake her hand to remove his hand but his grip just tights. he takes his cock in his hand, placing the tip at her entrance and waits. bucking her hips, she struggles him to get to push in, she tries to beg but he doesn’t lose his grip. He just watches her writhe in desperation for a moment, a grin on his face then asks. "What's your safe word?"

 he lets go of her cheek and she works her jaw to relief the soreness setting when he complains her. "Answer."

 "Why? Are you going need soon." she ask, her tone made it seem like she was being a brat but Ghost sees the truth in her eyes. his hands slide down her arm, gentle brushes them before he takes her wrist, moving them above her head and holding them there, telling her.

"Only if I do something you don’t like."

 "lavender" she replies with a nod and Ghost rewards her by pushing inside her. she gasped at the stretch, he nearly collapsed on her, at the tight, groaning in her neck. She goes to say something smartass about, but he starts thrusting not giving her a chance. 

"Fuck." Escape her lips instead as he pants in her ear. "God, you’re so big."

"Too much?" He questions, into her neck, pleasing his movement. she thrust her hips up causing him to tighten his grip on her wrist. he goes back to his fast place thrusting, his other hand not holding hers moves between their body down to her clit. rub circles around almost teasingly. humming at her cries of pleasure, her walls tightening around nearly making his knee buckle. a soon he regain his composer her walls start fluttering and her mutter. 

"fuck, im- cummings"

He pauses, to reveling her expression, still circling clit prolonging her orgasm. After she catches her breath, he moves again causing her the begin squirming away, he growls out. "You really think we're done?"

*** 

[more will be added once I finish editing it, thank you for being patient.]

[emotrait-arc]

lucy’s been slowly getting some “ill be in the story officially very soon so i need to have a finished version” tweaks lately

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Something Borrowed, Something Blue

Part 4 of my Accidentally on Purpose series!

Soft Dark! Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: This chapter is mostly sex, with some angsty plot mixed it. There's toxic relationships and manipulation as well. Also car sex, and bedroom sex, and hallway sex, and shower sex, and mentions of consensual somnophilia, also i think creampie is definitely a kink now.

Summary: It's filth. These two are rabbits. Happy Easter.

LAST NIGHT:

You hover at the edge of the bed, tugging at your sleep shirt.

"I'm not sure about this." You mumble, looking at the tiny hole in your shirt near the hem.

Billy's lying in bed, looking over at you, the sheets tucked around his hips, his chest is bare though he assures you that he's wearing some type of boxers on his lower half. His tattoo looks delectable in the low lighting.

"What's not to be sure about?" He asks softly, "We're married in every sense of the word."

You raise your eyes to look at him, watching the corner of his mouth rise in encouragement, eyes falling to the dark inky swirls on his chest next.

He takes the opportunity under your eyes to stretch his arm. You watch, with a dry mouth as he extends his arm out, bicep flexing, the snake wrapped around his arm rippling before he tucks the arm behind his head. His hooded eyes fall on you expectantly.

You swallow.

"Come to bed, pretty wife, I ache without you next to me." He says with a flair of drama in his voice and you smile, returning his words with a roll of your eyes.

It's the first time you're sleeping next to him in his bed for sleeping's sake. No sex beforehand.

You lean forward, pressing your hands to the soft covers. Carefully, you peel them back and make your way into bed until you're under the sheets.

You look over at him in question when you notice that his eyes won't leave you.

"Closer, baby." He murmurs, and you feel the place at the apex of your thighs throb at the sound of his voice and you try your best to resist his allure.

You scooch your body closer, loving the way the cool sheets trace over your skin. His bed is leagues more comfortable that yours ever was.

You only move a little bit closer to him, looking up to gauge his reaction.

He suddenly surges toward you, and you gasp as he grabs either side of your hips and tug you into the spot right beside him. Your torso falls back on the bed from his persistent tugging and he takes the opportunity to hover over you.

You giggle when you catch his mischievous smile, he buries his head into your neck and wraps as much of his arms around you as possible.

"Goodnight." he says into your chest and your eyes widen with shock. Surely he didn't intend to sleep like this? With his body engulfing yours? Clutching onto you like you were just a large stuffed animal?

Cautiously, you raise a hand to the back of his head, pushing your fingers into his hair and circling his scalp with a bit of pressure.

He lets out a long groan of satisfaction, and you smile, bringing you other hand up to rub circles into his back.

You feel his body slowly begin to relax, like putty in your hands as you knead every inch of him you can get a hold of.

You love the way it feels to have him cling to you, and you look forward to the possibility that every night with him is going to be some version of this.

FOUR HOURS AGO:

"Y/N?" Someone calls from behind you.

You swivel in your desk chair to see your boss standing behind you with a curious look on his face.

"Hey!" You say excitedly with a smile, "First day back." Referring to the two week vacation you'd taken since your break up to now.

Your boss tilts her head curiously.

"Didn't you resign a week ago?" She asks.

"What?" You say, "Definitely not. Are you mixing me up with someone else?"

She gives you a tilt of her head, telling you not to move, she'll be right back.

You shrug and move to log in to your computer.

You frown when the computer won't accept your credentials.

You hear her footsteps come up behind you.

"Hey, did you guys update the system while I was gone?"

"Y/N, you don't work here anymore."

You turn back to her in shock. She's got a manilla folder in her hands.

"You resigned a week ago, and then, well- just between the two of us- you've been blacklisted as well."

"I've been what?" You say, getting to your feet and trying to look over at the folder in her hands. You definitely catch a peek at the words 'employment terminated' and 'blacklist' before she's shutting the folder in your face.

"I'm sorry, hon, but you no longer work here."

"But- but I- I didn't send in any resignation letter! This is a mistake!"

"Maybe there was a mix-up in corporate? Let me give them a call." She says, turning away and heading to her office. You move to follow but stop in your tracks as your cell phone vibrates.

When you see him calling. You realise exactly what's happening.

Your stomach burns with anger, clenching your jaw so hard you don't even bother to answer, declining the call and moving to your boss' office.

She's just hanging up the phone when you step in, ignoring any rules of knocking first in your rage.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, your resignation has already been accepted. You don't work here anymore."

"Is there anything I can do? Maybe re-apply for my job?"

She gives you a sad look, her eyebrows drawn together, a tilt of her head in apology.

"Corporate made it very clear that re-hiring wasn't an option."

Your stomach sinks.

"Can I- will you- a recommendation letter?"

She nods.

"Of course, I'll email it to you."

It only takes a step out of the building, with the small box of your belongings in hand to completely disorient you.

Your chin wobbles and your eyes are watery, caught up in your own world, you don't realise that someone is even addressing you.

"Mrs. Russo!" The voice calls louder and you stop in your tracks.

It's someone familiar that you've seen around Anvil, wearing a perfectly pressed suit and moving up to you in a rushed pace.

"I've been instructed to take you home, Mrs. Russo."

You look at the man for a long second, baffled by the audacity. You don't move or blink for a long moment, staring at the man, and he looks back with growing confusion.

Finally, you grit your teeth, shoving the box of belongings into his hands.

"Tell him to leave me alone." You say evenly, turning and walking away, ignoring any further calls.

You don't know where you're heading, but you're just trying to get as far away as possible. Lost and confused, drowning in an ocean of your own thoughts and unable to process any of them.

How could he have done this to you? How easily? Taken everything you had- your apartment? Gone. Your body? Claimed. Your job?

At his mercy.

That's what you were now.

An object for him to toy with for however long he wanted- or however short-

And then he'd probably discard you when he grew weary of you.

Just like Dominic had done.

The air leaves you in a rush with that final thought, and you have to sit with the dizziness overwhelming you.

At least when Nic left, he'd only taken a bit of your pride and self confidence. When Billy leaves? He'd take your life with him.

And then the tears come.

Because what else can you do? What other choices do you have?

Your hands cover your face and you try to be as quiet and as still as possible as you sob. Your shoulders tremble, your mouth aches with the urge to scream.

People pass by occasionally, but if they think something is amiss, they don't act on it. You're grateful for that. Glad that the city barely cares about one weeping girl on a park bench.

You don't cry for too long, your body shuts down after a few minutes and you're left sniffling and lethargic.

You barely pay attention when footsteps stop in front of you.

But you jerk in fright when the bench gives a little wobble, and you realise someone has taken a seat beside you.

You take a look over to find him there. Your husband, in his perfectly pressed suit and coat, sitting beside you.

You look away, scraping at your face to wipe the tears away and completely forgetting about the makeup you'd taken your time to apply earlier that morning.

Billy shifts, and your heart beats faster when a hand enters your vision, a navy handkerchief in his palm as a peace offering.

You almost want to shove his hand away, tell him that you don't want anything from him, but the mucus beginning to slip past your nose motivates you into taking the fabric from him without a word.

"What gives you the right?" You ask him, while mopping up the mess of tears on your face.

"I thought you might have appreciated not having to work anymore- I make enough money for the both of us."

"What is this? The sixties? Maybe I liked working, maybe I liked helping people. You never even asked."

A long pause.

"You're right." He finally admits, though the words sound sour leaving his tongue, "I'm sorry."

You don't say anything, because you're still angry, still considering finding a way to leave him, take what's left and maybe disappear.

"What if I can offer you something better?" He says, slowly, in contemplative thought.

"I don't want your pity." You grumble, ready to get up and walk away from him for good.

"Not pity. And you'd be helping a lot more people than you are now?"

You sigh, shaking your head.

"You can't just-"

"-Take control of my charities."

You blink, finally turning to look at him.

"What?" You ask.

The takes a breath.

"Every year, a percentage of my budget goes into a charitable organisation. Something at random because I usually don't have enough time to do any proper research." He reaches forward slowly to sweep away some of the strands of your hair that have glued themselves to your face. He catches some of the strands, pressing them between his fingers.

"Would you like to take over that side of things for me? Choose charities that you think would benefit most from the help?"

You've lost the ability to speak.

"I- " you start to say, but the words die in your throat.

"Think about it. I need someone I can trust and you're the only person that comes to mind."

He leans forward, and you watch him kiss the strands of your hair wrapped in his fingers, his face unbelievably close to yours.

"You'd do a lot more good here, than you've done before. Let me know by the end of the week what you decide."

You look at him now, feeling some type of calm settling over you, but not quite calm enough yet.

"You've taken all of my options away from me. What am I supposed to do when you get tired of me and leave?"

A twitch of his mouth, the raise of his eyebrows, as if he understands your sentiment better than anyone else.

"Oh, my pretty wife," he says with a sigh, sliding closer to you and pressing his body against your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your hair.

"I'm not leaving you. Not ever. That's why I put that pretty ring on your finger."

He places a kiss to your cheek. The ring in question feels warmer on your hand.

"Come," he says decisively, getting to his feet and extending a hand out to you. "Let's go home, I'll even let you ride me in the car."

You stare at his outstretched hand for a long moment, weighing your options.

"Un-less you don't want to?" He asks, and you watch his fingers curl away from you, moving back to his side slowly.

You reach out to grab his wrist, before it reaches his side.

Your palm slides into his easily, and you watch his thumb caress the skin on the back of your hand.

It feels too right to be wrong. It calms you too much, to be something you don't want.

"I'm still mad at you," You say, with your voice barely above a hush, raising your head to meet his stormy eyes, "but sure, I'll ride you in the car."

A single blink, and you watch the worry in his eyes fade, replaced with delight as he pulls you up with a laugh.

"You can be how mad you want, Mrs. Russo... just don't ever leave me." You feel his warm breath in your ear, followed by a kiss to your cheek.

ONE HOUR AGO:

His lips are on your bare shoulder, kissing and muffling his moans there, while you ride him slowly in the backseat of his car.

"So good baby." He says, voice sounding rough and barely contained. You can only moan in response, only able to focus on his cock, as it slides against every spot you need it to.

His hands push the fabric of your pencil skirt higher so that he can grip your ass firmly.

His short nails scrape along the curve of your behind, pulling you onto his cock until you sheathe him fully.

"Right where I belong." He murmurs, before your hips are undulating once more.

"Billy- ahh," you gasp, head falling back as his mouth resumes its feverish work on your shoulder.

You're both just dishevelled enough, just pent up enough that your orgasm is just a few perfect thrusts away and you're grateful that all Billy deals with- is perfection.

You cup his cheeks, tilting his head up so that you can look at the face that makes gods envious. His eyes are dark, and you can't discern the pupil from the iris, lowering your head to meld your lips to his.

Your stomach flutters as your tongue slides along his, your orgasm imminent.

His hands are still guiding your hips, and when you tighten around him, he knows you're close.

Your mouths are too busy on each other, drinking in each kiss to say anything. The only warning you can give him is a squeeze of his shoulder before your orgasm seizes control of your body.

You tremble when you come, the bliss filling your head and making you float. Your fingers sift into the silky strands of his hair to pull them tight while you muffle your moan in his mouth.

His forearms wrap around you, pulling you taut to his body so that there's no space between you.

You feel so connected to him, in a way you've never felt before, like he's the centerpoint of your universe and spinning around him makes you dizzy.

You pull away from his mouth to gasp air, your lips still connected by a thinning sliver of saliva. He's still hard and pressed inside you, and you can feel him, with each beat your heart makes.

"Not even close to finished with you, little wife." He murmurs, pressing his hot forehead to yours.

You smile, tiling your head up to kiss the tip of his nose.

NOW:

He leans over you to grab the headboard, you keep a firm grip on his shoulders, sinking your nails into his skin to hear him groan loudly above you. His hips meeting yours in frenzied thrusts.

He begins to lose his rhythm, pistoning into you at an uneven pace.

"Where do you want me?" He says with a grunt, muscles flexing as he hovers over his end point.

"Where you- ahhhh- where you belong." You say into his tattoo, struggling to choose between pleasure and air.

He groans.

"Gonna come so deep in you that it takes fucking days to get me out."

"Yes, please." You say desperately, and though you've come so many times already, you think watching him come undone is going to do the same to you.

He squeezes his eyes shut, burying his head in your neck and his loud moan tips you over.

You cry out, coming with him, feeling him so impossibly deep inside you, feeling him throb as he empties himself inside you.

Like every time before, you have this primal urge to wish it would take, even though you're on birth control, a small part of you yearns to give your new husband a baby.

His skin is hot, and you feel his back shudder with the strength of his breathing, he trembles as he slips out of you, and crashes into the spot beside you.

His hand grips yours, pulling it up to his mouth so that he can lay kisses over your fingers, and then it's not enough for him, he can't help kissing his way up your arm, until he's at your shoulder.

He lets out a long sigh, burying his face into your neck and staying still for a long moment.

"I'm sorry," he says between heaving breaths.

You raise your head a little to look at him from a comfortable angle.

"Maybe I should have asked you about your job before I.... did that."

"Yeah," you sigh, "You should have. You barely know me."

He smiles, "I guess we should work on that." He turns to you excitedly.

"Go on a date with me?"

You lean forward to place a kiss on his cheek but he turns his head and you give him a soft kiss on his lips instead.

"Yes." Is your answer.

FOUR DAYS LATER:

You're trying to keep your composure, but you're seconds away from falling apart. You knew he could tell that something was off, you were trying to act as normal as you could under the circumstances. You just had to make it home, make it to your office, and the nice enclosed space that you could lock him out of.

He'd taken you to a work dinner to introduce you to his colleagues. It was all too much, starting with the outrageously expensive dress that he'd gotten you the day before. You'd smiled and accepted it, beautiful and shimmering, but not exactly your preferred style. As if he'd asked for the most expensive dress and hadn't considered what you might have liked.

The dress, you could manage.

The way everyone's smiles had frozen on their faces when he'd introduced you as his wife, making quick judgement of you was harder to navigate.

And the judgement was less than favourable.

No one would say anything to your face, but you could see it. In the glances between each other, in the way you knew that no one was genuinely interested in what you had to say.

And when you'd been forced to explain that you weren't currently employed, some of the wives had nodded like it had made perfect sense.

In everyone's eyes, there was just one word being thrown around.

It made you want to scream.

The bathroom was the worst part. When one of the wives had told you that she thought you just started showing.

Confused, you'd asked kindly for clarification.

"You start showing at three months right?"

You'd simply blinked in shock.

Explaining that you weren't pregnant, and that bumps show around five months took every ounce of self control you possessed.

When she'd simply smiled and shrugged when walking out, you were left staring at your tummy in betrayal, feeling absolutely disliked by these people.

Getting home was a blessing, you beelined for your office, unwilling to meet his eye, or let him touch you. Even when he brushed his hand against yours in the elevator, you'd found a way to adjust your hair casually to avoid him.

The door closes shut behind you, and you lock it. Closing your eyes, remaining pressed against the cool wooden door.

You hoped he would ignore you, hoped he would carry on with his nighttime routine and not think about you at all.

It was too much to hope for, and you stiffen when the door shakes just a few minutes later.

He calls your name in confusion.

"Is everything okay?" He asks.

You didn't know what to say, and suddenly you were pacing, moving back and forth, deciding to shed your shoes along the way. On one hand, you could lie to him, tell him everything is fine and go to sleep beside him and feel like you were some weak version of yourself.

Or, you could say something. Tell him that when he said he wanted to get to know you, you didn't think so many pregnancy accusations would be involved.

You pause your nervous moment, and close your eyes, summoning the courage to be honest.

"I hated every minute of that, Billy." You say, from behind your locked office door.

"What?" You hear him say, watching the handle of the door jiggle as he dries to open the door, "What happened? Let me in and we can talk about it."

You sigh angrily, continuing to pace in front of the door.

"Everyone was judging me! When you first introduced me, all their eyes moved down to my stomach, assuming I was pregnant!"

"Let me in, baby, please?"

"One of their wives even asked me how I managed to trap you!" You say with an angry huff as if he hadn't spoken, and you remember her quasi-inquisitive face as she implied that you'd slept your way to the top. Her face, pinched with a hint of disgust when she said she didn't think Billy was 'the kind of guy to fall for that'.

You grunt in anger again.

"Is that what people think of me? That I'm some kind of golddigger that seduced you or trapped you in this marriage with a pregnancy? That I'm the bad guy?"

You lean against the door with your face in your hands.

"I thought you'd like it." You hear him murmur through the thick wooden door.

You shake your head, deep in thought.

"It was too much, too fast. Rich people throwing around their money and judging others for no good reason and it was exhausting." You take a breath, tilting your head back so that it makes a small thump against the door.

"I barely had a chance to figure out who I am with you, and you throw me to the sharks. And these people weren't even your close friends, just business associates." You sigh in exasperation, feeling the angry energy leave you after being able to get it out.

The silence sits between you for a long moment, and you think he's probably walked away and decided to get a wife that actually flourishes in opulent and uncomfortable situations.

But when he speaks, you realise he's even closer to the door than he was before.

"I know it's stupid, but I thought you'd like it. I thought you'd appreciate seeing all that money being passed around and understand all the things I can give you. That you'd see some use in me."

Your eyebrows crunch together, you open your mouth to argue, but he continues speaking.

"No one's ever really.... picked me before. I think.... the first time I was ever really picked was when I became Lieutenant, and even then, it was for my skill with a gun. So I guess I thought I had to prove I was worth it to you... or else you... wouldn't want me."

Want him?

What's not to want?

Sure, you barely knew him, but you had an idea of who he was from the first couple of times that you'd met him. Funny, and down to earth and kind, and stands up for people.

Who wouldn't want you, Billy?

"My mom, for starters." He says with a humorous tone through the door and you didn't realised you'd spoken aloud.

The pieces fall into place, and you finally, finally, have some understanding of him.

You stand, unlocking the door and tugging it open in a flourish. He looks up at you in surprise from his spot below you. It looks as though he was sitting cross legged on the floor with his forehead was pressed to the heavy oak door.

His eyes are pleading, and gentle, and you think they're begging for acceptance.

"You." You fall to your knees in front of him, reaching for the buttons of his shirt, "Drive me." You slip his shirt from his shoulders, leaning forward to kiss the beautiful snake inked into his chest, "Absolutely insane." You finish, looking into his eyes.

You pause, taking a second to trace your fingers over his stubbled cheek.

"Which is crazy because I barely know you." Your fingers play with the short hairs at the back of his head.

"I should be running." You whisper.

With glassy eyes, he nods his head.

"You should be."

I won't.

You lean forward to kiss him, sighing into his mouth as your hands wander his skin and down to his belt. He breaks from the kiss, tilting his head up and your mouth descends on his neck instead.

"Are- are you sure?" He asks, and you hum in approval. The sound of his belt opening gets your blood boiling with arousal.

You tug his belt free, smiling as you unbutton his pants and pull it open not so gently. Billy lets out a little grunt of surprise when you tug at his pants, trying to work it down his hips.

"Wouldn't a bed be better for this, baby?" He asks.

You giggle, tugging his pants down to mid-thigh, until you can see the outline of his hard cock beneath his navy boxers.

"Need you way too much." You explain, sealing your mouth over his.

His kisses are slow at first, but the longer your tongue dances with his, the longer your hands explore his body, the more feverish his movements get, until you're sure he wants to be inside you just as much as you need him there.

If you needed him a little less, you'd take the time to suck him off. The thought of his weight on your tongue makes you feel so warm, and you have to have him right now.

"Please, Billy." You plea into his mouth, and watch as his eyes darken.

"Tell me what you want, little wife."

You moan at the words, reaching down to cup his erection over his boxers in answer.

"You. Please."

He reaches behind you, unzipping your dress and pushing the shimmery garment up and over your head.

"You already have me, what else?" He says softly.

You whine, reaching for the line of his boxers to free him yourself. But his hand reaches out to stop you.

"Come on, sweet girl, use your words." He encourages.

You feel frustration peak inside you.

"You! I want you, Billy Russo. Your cock, your hands, your lips, your hair-" you take a breath, "-I want everything you have to give to me."

He lets out a long breath and you know you've got him. Your frustration transparent in your eyes.

"Okay, baby, it's okay, I've got you."

He pushes his boxers down, spits into his hand and runs it over his cock, tugs your underwear to the side and then he's inside you.

Your body resists his size at first, but not for long. You let out a hitched breath, leaning against him fully.

"Oh, Billy, God yes." You murmur and he lets out a huff of amusement. You rock your hips on him slowly, making sure to get his stiff erection properly wet before you really begin bouncing. But oh god you want to so bad. How can one person make you feel so complete?

Billy groans, head falling back and you kiss at his neck and shoulders and the lines of his tattoo.

"Need you so bad." You whine, each word emphasised by the motion of your hips and you begin to increase the depth of your movements.

His hot breath dances across your skin, his fingers burying themselves in your hair to pull your face to his.

"You have me, sweet wife, you have me." He reassures against your mouth.

You whine again when the position can no longer support the force you need.

You lean back, away from him, bracing your hands on his thighs to move your body more vigorously.

He lets out a gasping moan as you begin riding him properly.

"Oh fuck, that's a good wife." He says, and you think he might be talking more to himself than you.

"Pretty fucking baby, always knows exactly how to ride me." He gasps and the words make you feel so good about yourself.

You moan his name and his eyes focus on your face.

"Mine." He grits out suddenly, and you yelp when your back hits the cold floors. He slips out of you to tug your underwear down your legs and to kick off his shoes and pants properly.

He's inside you again not a minute later.

His thrusts are firm and punishing, and each crash of your hips to his is followed by him growling "Mine." into your neck.

You're on the edge when you watch him lick the tip of his thumb to swipe it delicately over your clit and you see stars.

"All over my cock baby, all over it." He encourages and you oblige eagerly.

Your back arches and a loud cry slips from your lips when your orgasm slams into you at full force, leaving uncontrollable tremors dancing through your body.

Then his thrusts grow harsher, bordering on almost painful with how deep he goes inside you but you're too blissed out to say anything, willing to take the pinch of pain when you know he's about to come.

"Inside me." You gasp, begging him as though you think he has the strength to come anywhere else.

A single growl into your neck and his hips shudder as you feel the force of his orgasm wash over him. He trembles too as his cock pulses deep inside you, giving you everything you want. His breathing is erratic for a second, and you clench around him to make sure that every drop of his come finds its deserved place inside you.

You lock your ankles around him as he tries to pull out of you.

"Stay." You plead, head moving in and out of conscious bliss.

He doesn't argue, holding himself there stuffed inside you for a few moments keeping you full, until the softening of his cock makes him slip out.

"Bath?" Billy asks, in between breaths, and you're really not sure if you can focus on anything he says.

He smiles at your blissed state, gathering you up in his arms and grunting as he stands, holding onto your limp form.

"'M heavy, I know." You sigh, a little insecure, but too blissed to really care.

"You're perfect." He responds, taking you to the bathroom. Leaving the clothes in the hallway forgotten, to be picked up by a maid in the morning who has been desensitised to the antics of Billy Russo and his new wife.

"I've been thinking." He says slowly, pulling you from your thoughts. You look down at him, where his face is pressed into your clothed chest.

When he looks up, you see a sweet, innocent boy, with eyes the colour of chocolate who looks like he'd taste just as sweet.

You raise a hand to card it through his hair and his eyes flutter closed at the calming sensation. He tugs you closer sighing in bliss.

"Nevermind," he murmurs, "Please don't stop doing that."

"What is it?" You ask in a hushed tone to match his.

He lets out a sigh and you think he might be working himself up to say something.

"I want to fuck you."

You blink.

"Right now?" You ask, thinking back to just thirty minutes ago when you'd jumped him in the hallway outside of your office.

"No. At night... when you're asleep. I want to fuck my pretty wife while she sleeps and watch her wake up with my come deep inside her."

Wow. That shouldn't have made you as aroused as it just did.

You stay silent for a moment, letting the scenario play out in your head. Billy, with his large, domineering persona, leaning over you in your cute little nightgown and having his way with you. Sucking on your nipples, licking on your clit, using your mouth however he want, fucking you until he comes and you wake up with come on your thighs and no memory of how-

"-It's okay, forget I asked." He says, interrupting your thoughts. Your hand tightens in his hair for a moment.

"Yes." You blurt.

"Yes?" He asks, voice a little hopeful.

"You'll make sure I'm wet enough?"

He lets out a little groan.

"Yes I will." Is his response.

"And I can tell you which nights I'm not into it?"

"Of course, I'd never- of course." He says.

"Then yes, I think I'd like to give it a try."

He groans again, and when he settles against you, you think you can feel the outline of his erection against your hip.

Was that fucked up? Were you now a ruined and debauched version of yourself, that you'd let Billy Russo have his way with you- even if you weren't awake to experience it?

"M-maybe you can make a video." You suggest lightly and he lets out another groan.

"Stop, please, I'm so hard right now and I'm trying not to be." He begs.

You laugh softly, massaging his scalp and holding him close while you both drift to sleep.

A WEEK LATER

You wake up slowly, and you don't realise something is different until you move.

A little sound of confusion leaves your throat from under the pile of comfortable sheets when you feel a strange soreness between your legs. You move around a bit more to examine the feeling. Yes. Definitely sore, nothing alarming, but different, considering you have no idea how you got to be this sore.

You sit up, and gasp as you feel something warm slip out of you and you lift the hem of your sleep shirt up your thighs and gasp as you catch hints of come on your skin, in varying states of drying.

You push the sheets from your body and climb out of bed and try not to groan as you feel more come slipping out of you and down your thighs.

When you tug the bathroom door open, he's there, patting aftershave on his face with a towel wrapped around his hips.

He turns to you and there's a beautiful mischievous glint in his eye.

"G'morning, Mrs. Russo." He says with a dark, decadent voice that has your insides tying themselves into knots.

"Hi Billy." You say, getting closer to him so that you could slip into the shower at the far end of the room. His eyes follow you with that same glittering look, and you try to ignore him as you turn the shower on.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You look back at him shyly, letting the pieces fall into place in your sleepy mind. You blink in realisation.

He'd fucked you.

In your sleep.

Just like he said he would.

Your stomach flips, and you turned quickly to head into the shower, completely forgetting his question.

He continues to look at you, through the transparent glass of the shower, and you keep your back to him, feeling a bit insecure at having him look at you like this. You focus on grabbing your favourite scented soaps and begin to lather your skin when suddenly you feel him behind you.

"I asked you a question baby." He murmurs in your ear, his large hands warm on your skin, pulling your back into his chest.

"Um-" you begin to say but he cuts you off.

"I had an amazing night's sleep, since you didn't ask. A really good dream. Wanna hear it?"

"Mmhmmm" you affirm, as his hands begin to work the lather into your skin.

"I dreamt about this perfect little cunt. The absolute best pussy ever." Your skin tingles as his fingers dance over your puckered breasts, "Hot, and tight, and so fucking wet for me."

You mewl quietly.

"And what happened next?" You ask, tilting your head back with closed eyes.

A chuckle.

"Well I fucked it of course. As long and as hard as I wanted and I came so deep inside that I wondered if she'd taste it."

You moan when his lips meet your neck, with gentle kisses, sweet, contrasting his filthy words.

"Would you like me to show you?"  He asks.

You sigh, bracing your hands on the wall of the shower in front of you, arching your back and becoming the desperate version of yourself that only he can bring out of you.

"Yes, please sir." You breathe. And though you're not even looking at him, you can feel his smile.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N:

Billy: Did you pick my wife up from that job i just got her fired from?

Bodyguard: Boss, she uh, told me to tell you to leave her alone.

Billy: that doesn't sound right, where is she?

Bodyguard: She's uh, crying in the park now.

Billy: Omfg what did u do???!

Bodyguard: Sir, I'm pretty sure this was you.

*cuts to Billy rushing at full speed to his wife*

😄

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Juice, Mad Queens and Families (Love Lies, Part 2.)

“Biggie, Biggie, Biggie, can't you see? Sometimes your words just hypnotize me.” - The Notorious B.I.G., Hypnotize 

Description: Carcrash, coma, drug usage, partying, heartbreak… You’ve been there. After 18 months of “corrective” stay at your grandmother’s in Minnesota, it’s time for you to move back to East Highlands. Yet, it was to be expected that while some things change, some stayed the same.

A/N: This is looking just... I have a really good feeling about this series and so far, I am falling in love with all of the characters once more; just like I did before. I never fall in love with my own creations, so, this means so much to me; especially seeing everoyne enjoy it so much (the OG series had 5000+ notes in total).  And yes, I am so sorry, but you will have to wait a bit before Fezco even making his first appearence. The reason being: I feel like I established a universe in the first series and I want to re-establish it once more, update you guys on everyone, give it more feelings and emotional depth (for example, Fran played one of the main roles in the events that happened).  But, good news, Rue might be appearing in the next part!

Word counter: 4.1 K

Tagging: @comedinewithmeyeh​ @jeyramarie​ (tagging for the series is opened)

Masterlist: H E R E

Walking into that small space felt like torture, even when you held Archie’s palm as if your life depended on it - and if he would let go, you’d most likely die. At that moment, he was the anchor keeping your head somewhat present in reality. The boy could undeniably see that you’re distressed; your breathing became infrequent (almost as if you were about to pass out and you gasped for air just to avoid it), your palms got sweaty and let alone the trembling of your body. As you looked around the small shop, you could feel a warm touch on your jaw - it was Archibald pulling you back into reality.

“I’m asking if you’re alright, Y/N.” - The boy mumbled with a furrow, pecking your cheek as you took one last deep breath. - “Since we drove past the city sign, you’re looking like you’re gonna pass out any second.” Not even bothering to answer, your eyes automatically scanned the counter; and to your relief, Kat was sitting right on top of it and both her and Ash stared you down, trying to determine whether they’re looking at a ghost.

“God fucking dammit.” - Ash exclaimed so loud that it just had to be heard even outside the gas station. But you stood there and a grin was slowly appearing on your face. - "Kat, look at that girl." - The boy chuckled as he left the safe space behind the counter. Now, it was Archie who got uncomfortable as you got more and more relaxed, watching the boy approaching you. Archibald's eyes were piercing through the boy; what kind of parent could allow him to have face tattoos at that age? Who would agree with what he was wearing, let alone the chains on his trousers? Just when your boyfriend wanted to search for approval in you, he saw how proud you looked as you watched the stranger. God fucking dammit indeed, you thought yourself, our little Ash is almost grown up now. To be honest, he was taller than you remembered. He also had a whole more lot of tattoos. More so, Ash gained a bit of weight, his skin tone was nice and fresh... He looked great. Whether he and Fezco still ran the business or not, you were sure that the boy is being cared for. To be honest, Kat looked great too; you just nodded at her, getting a smile back from her. With people such as these two, it was so easy imaging you’ll fit right back in. While you and Ash had a closer relationship than you and Kat, it was mainly Kat that stuck by your and Jules’ side when shit went sideways. She talked to you when you got upset and the evenings you spent with one another in the gas station improved your friendship as well. Kat couldn’t be taken as your best friend by any means, but she was cool.

"She do be looking great, huh? Look at that drip and hair and everythin'." - Ash asked rhetorically when he finally approached both of you. At that moment, Archie pushed you out of Ashtray's reach, but you stopped him. In fact, you smiled at that boy; your smile got so big that your eyes closed a bit. "Aren't you outstepping your boundaries, boy? This is my," - Archibald asked the boy, stepping in front of you to protect you, yet again, you pushed him back. That shut him up as you giggled a bit. "Calm down, it's okay. You are not looking the worst yourself, little one." - Letting Archie's hand go, you performed the old handshake you and Ash established way back in the day. When the handshake was over, Ash surprised you with a big hug. He was just as glad to see you as you were glad to see him. With a small smile and eyes closed, you embraced Ash back. When Ash let you go, he turned his attention to Archibald, just like the well-mannered chap he was.

"Name's Ashtray." - As you walked to Kat to hug her, you still listened to these two. Ashtray, who was undeniably amused by Archie's confusion, stood there and giggled. - "Don't worry, that gal is my family. Haven’t seen her in a bit but trust me, bro, this one is the ride or die kind of gal.” "Name's Archie, nice to meet you... Is this your cousin?" - Archibald asked you with confusion, watching all three of you giggle at that statement. Without further ado, you walked straight to the freezer to take one of those cherry sodas no one else in the town drank. Only you and you alone. "Figuratively speaking, but yes, he is. It's more of a brother from another mother situation we got here, to be clear." - Setting the drink on the counter, you waited for Archie to pick what he wanted to drink. Looking under the countertop, it still worked the same; you could see Fezco’s debt notebook, some phone numbers were written down on various pieces of paper and you’d bet your car on Ash having some pot under the counter for those that were interested. As usual, you could also hear various rap rhythms playing from the small speaker laying on the ground behind Ash.

“And look at this lady.” - With a smile, you leaned into the countertop next to Kat as Ash put the numbers into the cash register, bopping his head in the rhythm. Just a few minutes ago, you felt terrified and tortured - but with these two, the gas station still felt like home. In all fairness, it felt amazing to be back. But on the back of your hand you realized that Kat and Ash aren’t the only people you can meet at the gas station; starting with Fezco, Rue, or even Nathaniel fucking Jacobs himself. Yet at moment, it was one of the safest places in the whole universe. - “Is she for sale? She’s looking like a real snack.”

“Bitch look at yourself and then talk. You look fucking… Amazing. It’s been a while.” - Kat’s laughter made you laugh too. Her palm gently pushed your shoulder, but it was more of a gentle smooth rather than a full-on push. - “We’ve missed you being around. Mainly Rue… And him. Where have you been?” “Healing. Putting my shit back together. Thinking and relaxing. At was at my nana’s in Minnesota… I thought Jules told you? From what I've gathered, you two are tight in the last few months.” “No, she made sure that whatever happened back there on that night... That all of that will remain a secret. I mean, even Maddy didn’t tell anyone that much and nobody fucking asked Nate ‘cause we all know what kind of dipshit that guy is.” - With an unhappy giggle, Kat shook her head, looking away from you for a bit. - "Girl, we better hang out - I mean you, me, and Jules. I have so much gossip to spill." "We can hang out soon. I'll just make sure my sister is safe with my parents and that she won't throw a fucking tantrum, I also need to make sure that my flat is all set up and that everything's in check and... Does next week suit you?" "Anytime, bitch. Bring Jules 'cause the shit I'm about to spill is bat shit crazy. Just hit me up, Jules has my number." - With that, you paid for both your and Archie's drinks and caught his palm in yours, leading him out of the gas station's shop, waving at both Ashtray and Kat. But as soon as you stepped outside, you saw Maddy Perez, the devil itself, leaning into Fran's rolled window with Cassie standing next to them.

"Speaking of the devil..." - With a mumble, you walked to your car. Just a second later, Maddy turned at you with her hands behind her back and an angelic smile on her lips. She was looking better than ever, but that was just the way Maddy looked all the time - perfect make-up, babydoll outfit, and carefully styled hair, that was Maddy's classic. Cassie... Well, she looked good. They both were. "Do you know these two as well?" - Archie mumbled to your ear. "It's a small town, baby. We'll be on the road soon, I promise." - Knowing Maddy Perez is Maddy Perez, you knew you had to put on your best mask. This bitch saved your ass from police and Fezco's going straight to maximum security prison. Thanks to her, it looked like self-defense. You had to act all nice and excited. When she opened up her arms and started squealing excitedly, you did the same and went to hug her. Sure, she wasn't the kind of person you liked or someone who you'd like to be friends with, but Nate and her put their necks on the line for both of you. This was the least you could do.

After two minutes of chatter, you were already full of Maddy's superficial bullshit - as her voice entered your head with one ear, it simultaneously left through the other one while you nodded, zoned out, on autopilot. Archibald was standing next to you the whole time with his hand inside the back pocket of your jeans, trying to keep up with Maddy's chatter. Cassie, as per usual, was standing next to Maddy and smiled the whole time. "In conclusion, you better get your ass there, bitch." - Maddy said all of a sudden, giving you a figurative slap on your cheek. The confused blinking told Perez more than she needed to know. - "To the party? On Saturday? At Barbara's? The one I just told you about? I'll tell her I invited you, don't worry about that. Jules and Kat are coming too, so it would be so cool if you guys would be there, oh my God."

"Oooooh, yea, yea, the party at Barbie's." - You nodded, pretending you know what she's on about. With a sweet smile, you turned your head to Archie, hoping he'd decline Maddy's invitation. - "Would you like to go there, meet the locals, drink and dance a bit?" "That would be cool." - Archibald nodded. Just after he accepted the invitation, he noticed how your nostrils widened a bit along with your entire expression hardening a bit. Dang. Archie was soon to learn that local parties were an occasion to which you never wanted to be invited. But he had to learn that the hard way; plus Maddy's invitations were something that simply couldn't be refused. Even if you'd say no, she'd turn on her heels and yell 'See you there!', which she did anyway. - "I'm sorry, I thought you'd like to spend time with your friends." "Sure, baby, it's okay, don't worry about it. I just hope that nobody will drink and take too many pills to go bat shit insane. But that's how East Highland gets sometimes." - With a sigh, you opened your Cherry paradise and took a slurp. It gets all under your skin, inside your head, and fucks you up, leaving you discarded on the sidestep like a fucking used condom, you thought, but as you watched Archie slurping on his Blueberry Meadow, you couldn't tell him that.  

In the next forty minutes, you finally managed to turn off the engine in front of your parents' house, having these two waiting for you in front of the house. The memory from moving in was vividly clear inside your head - you, walking on your lawn with a paper box pushed to your chest, with your old Converse shoes untied as your mother called you all for dinner. Fran locked the door and assured you that you will do amazing. That you will find friends. That was two years ago, but you could name the spot where the truck was parked. Your ma stood at the doorstep with her palm covering her mouth as she cried. She watched both of her daughters getting out of the car, looking healthy and happy. Jules also jumped out, waving at her mom. Often, she'd come by to offer your parents some help with the house; she became a good friend with your parents. She'd do the lawn, help your mom clean up or she'd shop for them and they'd pay her something.  Soon after, your father joined your mom at the doorstep, gently hugging her shoulders. - "They're finally home." - He whispered, being on the verge of crying himself.

For Fran, this was a very excruciating walk of shame. She held the strap of her bag steel tight, staring into the ground the entire time. It was hard to say what was the worst for your Christian parents - whether it was the fact that she was gay, that she overdosed more than four times, or that she tried to kill herself. The most important thing was clearly the fact that they were still willing to take Fran back home with their arms open; you'd seen so many other Christian families being broken over their childer doing stuff they didn't approve of. In this regard, both your parents had balls of fucking steel. Next to Fran, with your almost lethal car crash, kind of an overdose, and almost a month-long coma, you were still considered a saint. Especially after you graduated early and made yourself sure that you will be able to complete all your exams remotely while you set your living in East Highlands. Sure, your parents were still mad at you, but it was really looking like you tried to turn your life around; just like Fran.

When she hugged them, you leaned your ass into the trunk of your car and teared up, watching Fran groping into their arms as she started to cry hard, basically breaking down on your mom's shoulder. You could hear as she tried to say 'I'm so sorry mum, so so so sorry, mom, I'm so sorry', but she couldn't even do that. That made you cry too. The happy Fran showed up in your mind again; she was dancing around the house with new clothes she bought recently with sunglasses hanging really low on her nose. She jumped on the couch and cried out the chorus of the song, laughing at you sitting in the armchair. Fran, barely walking, was leaning into the wall with her clothes, the same clothes she bought a few days earlier, drenched in puke with her nose bleeding, yelling at something on the opposite wall - that happened six years ago. Then she was dancing in front of the stove, preparing breakfast for Calum and you. Fran was unable to walk that night, laying on the road while you screamed for anyone to call the fucking 911 as you unsuccessfully tried to feel her breath or to find her pulse - this happened three years ago, just before you moved. Fran laying with you in bed, telling you about that girl in her class she was madly in love with this week as you both laughed. Fran sitting on the bed in the psychiatric ward of the hospital, pale as all fuck, dressed up in a restraining jacket with her hair in a messy bun, crying as she stared at the wall opposite of her, begging someone, anyone, to kill her because she couldn’t live with herself anymore - that was a few days after you woke up from the coma. Fuck, you just hoped that you won't see her hitting the rock bottom ever again... Since she spent there a good portion of her teenage years and early twenties.

When Jules hugged your shoulder, just because she knew exactly what you thought of, you almost jumped out of her reach. The girl kissed your shoulder with her eyes closed, whispering to you about how everything's gonna be just fine now. Fran was cured, right? And this time, it seemed that she won't start with that bullshit again. Your mom, instead of waiting for you at the doorstep, walked right to the both of you, kissing your shoulder. You had no idea about what she was whispering about as you jumped in her arms, almost bringing her down with you. God fucking dammit, this was one of the moments when you felt so happy and safe that you wanted to scream out loud. Jules started talking about the road trip with her as you dried your cheeks. Your dad didn't say much, just because he knew he doesn't need to - he just kissed your temple and smiled, helping Archie with carrying all of Fran's belongings inside their house.

Walking in seemed to reminiscing (and not the enjoyable one) at first, but the longer you walked around the house, the more relaxed you became. Your mother made sure that she has all the photos framed and displayed in the best places - there was a picture of you getting your high school diploma (in which there was both of your parents, your grandma and bother present), she had a picture of Fran getting her sobriety token at the therapeutic facility; and then, there was... "Is that Cal going on his first dance?" - You asked your mom, looking at your not-so-small-anymore brother in the picture. He was there with Gia, Rue's sister, with whom he was great friends since the day you moved in. "It is. And neither of you was here to roast the living hell out of me." - A low, male voice said right next to your ear, making you freak out. It was your younger brother... Who was now at least ten inches taller than you. Fuck, you last saw him half a year ago and it was showing. - "Oh my God, you look good, sis. Both of you do."

"Well, us not being here doesn't mean we can't roast you now, huh, sis?" - Fran, who finally stopped crying, bumped her elbow into your waist, and examined the picture. Pretending she has glasses, she slid them down her nose before opening her mouth wide. - "Yo, what's that? A pedo-stache?" "I think you're right, lemme have a look." - You, as usual, chimed in and smiled at Calum before bringing him for a hug. As you closed your eyes, Fran hugged you both, kissing your foreheads. - "I am so proud of you, both of you, shitheads. But Cal does look like a fucking chicken nugget at that picture." "I told him so." - A female voice spoke from behind Cal's back, making you and Fran raise your heads in curiosity. It was none other than Gia Bennet herself. Were you old or was everyone growing way faster than you'd like to? She was a breathtaking young woman now, even tho you remember a young, cute girl.

It got uncomfortable rather quickly; all three of you standing there in a sibling entanglement as all three of you stared at Gia - to top it all off, you and Fran had your mouths wide open. "Gi!" - Fran exclaimed like the diva she was, letting both you and Cal go as she threw her hands around in a grandiose gesture. - "Did my younger brother finally find a single ounce of his common sense inside of his brain and ask you out?" "Francis! What the fuck?" - Calum mouthed out with pure horror inside his face. Gia stood there for a second before she started laughing, hugging Francis in the process. - "No, we are... Not a thing. " "Shame. Shithead number two should do something about that, huh?" - Fran snorted dramatically, leaving Cal rolling his eyes with his cheeks on fire. Both of the siblings left you alone with Gia while bickering about nonsense as you hugged her. Your breath got shallow as you let the girl go, staring at your shoes.

"Is Rue... Is she... Did she... She didn't... Gia..." "She's alive... For now." - Gia sighed, looking at the ground while gulping. To assure herself, she nodded and took in a deep breath. - "But she's in a bad, bad spot now. I mean, mom didn't notice yet, but it won't be too long until they start arguing again. We've been there before." "Listen, look at me." - With that, you smoothed her cheek and made the girl look at you. It was obvious that the first thing you'll ask Gia about would be Rue; you were one of her biggest Gs, a member of her pack, her family. And Gia was sure that she'll be ready when you ask about Rue. But it always hurt to talk about her sister when she was hitting the rock bottom... Again. - "If it would get bad, like, the worst of the worst, call me. Come here anytime you'd need and I'll try to help Rue with the demons, okay? I'm back and hopefully, she'll start talking to me again. I've been there many, many fucking times with Fran. Just like Leslie and you are on the rock bottom with Rue."

Without you expecting Gia to do so, she hugged her tight; for her, it was a relief seeing you back. This might've been the thing to turn her life around since it was your departure that broke Rue down in the first place. As you hugged her back, there was a sad smile on your face. It was almost hilarious how similar your families were - perfect at one time and dysfunctional beyond repair at the other time. You both had an older sister that was basically a walking wreck most of the time; on the other hand, you knew Rue would never harm Gia - but you thought the same of Fran. Life wasn't fair. It fucking wasn't.

The dinner was a fucking blast, to be honest. You played some good old songs, chatting with everyone. Fran told you the funniest stories from the rehab community while Jules talked about school. Your ma had loads of questions regarding your new flat; were you sure that you had everything? Were you sure that you'll be able to make ends meet with the scholarships and part-time jobs? How did it feel to be back in the town? When the three of you, you, Jules, and Archie, were leaving the place two hours later, you felt happy and safe. Most of your family, whether the ones you chose to be a part of it or those who you knew your whole life, were happy to see you. And for the most part, you've seen welcomed back. Sure, neither of these people were those who were closest to you back in the day... But you weren't that sure if you wanna see the two in particular. It was certain that you'll meet them at one point or another, but so far, you didn't feel the need to contact them. What the fuck would you even tell them?

Singing one of Hoodie Allen's songs with windows rolled down, you drove to the downtown. It was a super small flat above one of the stores, but you knew it will do. Without hesitation, Archie (God bless him for being the one who did all the paperwork and official stuff) walked into the shop to get the keys from your new landlord. It was an old Asian lady with the most genuine smile you've seen until that day. She was talking while leading you upstairs on a separate outside staircase, talking about the various things that might happen. You had to say that you fell in love from the moment you entered the flat. It was nothing more than two small rooms, a kitchen corner, and a separate bathroom, but it was sort of perfect. Once you'll have all the furniture in place and decorations to put around the flat, you knew it will be your home. You couldn't wait for that. Once the lady, her name was Dung, left you to go back to her small shop, all three of you started moving all the boxes up into the small soon-to-be living room. It took you four hours and by midnight, you were finally done. That night, you all fell asleep on an inflatable mattress, since there were precisely zero beds inside your apartment at that time.

[tommyhardyx]

Mr Solomons - Chapter Five

** Updated Version **

Pairing: Modern!Alfie Solomons Word Count: 4.4K Summary: It's finally time for your date with Alfie. Warnings: smut, swearing Note: And here we go it's time for the first date! I hope you enjoy and please let me know if you do!

Ever since you agreed to the date with Alfie you’ve struggled to keep the man out of your mind.

The days leading up to Saturday begin to drag, work becomes boring and repetitive as you spend your days researching an upcoming article, and you find yourself constantly checking the clock hoping it’s getting closer and closer to the weekend so you can finally put all your focus into Alfie.

At coffee, with friends, you tune out unintentionally, your mind always going back to him. You had spoken to him a couple of more times since he asked you out, trying to coax the meaning behind why you need a leather jacket to go out to dinner with him but he never breaks, never gives you anything more to go on than ‘just trust me, you’ll need it’.

When Saturday finally rolls around, the mixture of excitement and anxiety for the night ahead wakes you earlier than intended and after a morning spent pacing around the house with nothing better to do than think about what might come from tonight Nancy finally has enough, dragging you out to your favourite coffee shop to take your mind off Alfie, refusing to address any mention of him and for the first time since you said yes you find yourself distracted, Alfie banished from your mind finally.

By the time you get home it’s late enough to start getting ready, Nancy blasts loud music to get you in a good mood while she helps you decide on your outfit for the night, helping with your makeup and hair, keeping you smiling and laughing until it’s only a few minutes to 7. She gives you one last tight hug before sending you out the door, a smile of luck and an encouragement not to come home tonight.

Waiting on the pavement outside your building, butterflies flying up a storm in your stomach, a smile pushes its way onto your face as the reason for Alfie’s confusing text asking you to wear a leather jacket finally makes sense.

He pulls up to the curb right in front of you, the motorbike he sits on loud enough to drown out your thoughts of worry as he turns off the engine and pulls off his helmet grinning at you, his eyebrows lifting as he looks over you.

“You look incredible,” he says, taking a moment to look over your body. “You ever ridden one of these?”

You shake your head as he offers a second helmet to you, his smile a comfort as you reach out a hesitant hand to take the helmet.

“All you gotta do, yeah, is hold on tight.”

Slipping the helmet over your hair, praying it won’t mess it up too much after all the time you and Nancy spent on it, you ease yourself onto the bike behind Alfie, your arms immediately slipping around his waist as you push your body against his back.

“Good to go?” he asks, and you nod. He must notice your anxiety, his hand moving to squeeze one of your own gently “Don’t worry love, I won’t let you get hurt yeah?”

Nodding slightly you rest your head against his back and say quietly. “I trust you.”

Your hands grip each other as Alfie revs the engine, your stomach doing a little flip as he pulls out onto the road and you swear you hear him chuckle when your arms tighten around his body.

It’s surprisingly easy to distract yourself from your fear as you focus on the feel of Alfie’s body beneath your arms, feeling his muscled torso this close to you has you thinking less about the possibility of crashing and more about what he might look like without his shirt off.

You’re so distracted by your thoughts that you don’t realise at first that you’ve slowed to a stop, and that Alfie has cut the engine until he speaks.

“So, how was that?”

It takes a minute for the question to sink in, and you’re sure he knows what has got you so distracted by the smirk on his face. He swings himself off the bike, waiting for you to take your helmet off to hold a hand out to you.

“Not as bad as I thought,” you admit, taking his offered hand as he helps you off the bike. “Still terrifying though.”

“Told ya I wouldn’t let you get hurt,” he says with a wink.

You smile up at him, enjoying the feeling of his large hand holding yours so much that you squeeze it tight when he tries to pull away, his smile mirroring yours at the motion.

“Right, well we’re in here,” he explains, pointing to a Jewish restaurant in front of you. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all! You’ll have to tell me what’s good though, I haven’t eaten much Jewish food before,” you admit.

He nods, holding the door open for you. “I can do that.”

The inside of the restaurant is small, cozy even, setting you at ease as a waiter guides you to your table and Alfie holds your chair out for you.

Both of you hang your leather jackets over the back of your chairs, Alfie’s outfit underneath finally showing itself properly. The crisp white shirt, combined with the black slacks and vest is a good look for him. He has the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, giving you a glimpse at some of the tattoos that litter his skin.

Alfie helps as you read through the menu, pointing out some of his favourite dishes always with little anecdotes of his mother making them for him when he was young, his love for her clear every time he speaks about her.

As your food is placed in front of you, you give him a look.

“I’m putting my trust in you, if I don’t like this it’s your fault,” you tease and he gives you one of his wide grins.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to make it up to ya if you don’t,” he promises with a wink.

“I’m holding you to that,” you tell him, pointing your fork at him before taking your first bite.

The food is delicious, the slight moan you let out on purpose causing a smirk to spread onto Alfie’s face and you’re sure you notice his tongue flick across his lips.

“Alright then?”

“It’s incredible,” you mutter, digging into the dish once again and enjoying the way Alfie smiles at you as you eat.

The conversation flows as the meal goes on, your nerves disappear the more he asks about your life and your family,

As dinner comes to an end and the two of you make your way back outside to his bike you realise you don’t want the night to end quite yet, though to come out and just say you’d like to go back to his place might sound a little desperate. He hands your helmet to you, the question on his lips as he intently looks you over, looking for any sign you might want to get out of this now.

“Do you want to come back to my place for a bit? I’m sure Cyril would like to see you again,” he says, the offer of his dog making the offer sound a little less like all he wants is to get you into bed.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you almost whisper, slipping the helmet back on.

When you reach Alfie’s building, you have to make an effort not to allow your jaw to hang open. The massive brick building looks to be an old factory that has been converted into flats, and approaching the large brown metal door, you wait a step behind Alfie as he types in the code for the door.

“This is where you live?” you ask, and Alife smirks as he opens the door for you.

“It is,” he says, following you inside and guiding you through the foyer to wait by the elevator with a hand resting on your lower back.

Built into the exposed brick wall beside the elevator is a bench lined with red velvet and you sink into it while looking around the room, glad to get off your feet for a moment.

“This place is incredible,” you tell him, looking around in an attempt to take everything in.

Alfie watches you, one hand in his pocket while he twists one of his rings around his finger.

“Used to be a piano factory in the 1800s, then a photography space, and now apartments. I was one of the first to buy ‘ere. It’s close to the distillery and big enough for Cyril not to feel cramped,” he explains.

The elevator door opens, and he holds out a hand that you happily take as he helps you off the bench and into the elevator, your feet still burning from your shoes.

“Oh well Cyril is of course the most important,” you say, grinning at the man.

Inside the apartment you can’t help but look around in wonder, the place is huge with a gorgeous open kitchen and massive curved sofa facing a wall of bookshelves with a large TV in the middle. Just like the foyer the apartment is filled with exposed brick walls, and metal, all to great effect.

You’re so preoccupied with the apartment you almost miss the thumping sound of heavy paws on the wooden floors.

“Hello Cyril,” you say as the dog comes running over, his tail wagging madly behind him and Alfie holds onto the dog’s collar to keep him from tackling you to the ground. You reach to scratch behind the dog’s ears, smiling at the way he leans into your touch.

“Think he missed ya,” Alfie says, squatting down to the dog’s level.

Watching Alfie with Cyril never fails to make you smile, the man’s face lighting up at the mere sight of his dog, his chuckle making your stomach flip in the best possible way as he scratches under the dog’s chin.

“How’re you doin’ mate?”

You make your way to a wall of framed photos, there’s one of a woman you assume is Alfie’s mother holding a young boy which could be no one but Alfie himself in her arms, another more recent photo of Alfie and Ollie outside the distillery, and another of Alfie with his arm around a girl that must be his sister.

“Is this Hannah?” you ask as Alfie comes to stand by your side.

“Hm? Yeah, that’s her, made me take that photo with her,” he admits, running a hand over his beard.

“What’s she like?”

“She’s brilliant. Fucking smart, don’t know where she got that from, she’s an engineer. She’s also a pain in my arse, but I love her,” he explains, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I’d love to meet her someday,” you say as you turn to the photo of him and Ollie. “When was this taken?”

“Day we opened the distillery. Fuck, I was terrified that day, had no fucking clue if we would fail or succeed. Ollie kept me from panicking. Yeah, he kept me calm. He’s good at that,” he explains.

He rubs a hand over the back of his head, a move that almost seems like nerves as he keeps his gaze on the photo in front of him.

“He encouraged me to ask you out, so if this goes well expect him to never fucking shut up about it,” he mutters, making you laugh.

The two of you make your way to the couch, the conversation flowing long enough that Cyril gets bored with the lack of attention and goes off to occupy himself some other way and you find yourself moving closer to Alfie, his arm resting along the top of the couch just beside your head.

As the two of you continue to talk, your eyes move from his face down his toned body and you begin to wonder just what he looks like underneath those clothes.

Alfie’s hand settles on your hip, his face mere inches from your own so close you can feel his warm breath on your skin. His eyes search your face, moving from your eyes down to your lips and your heart pounds with anticipation as you wait for him to make his move.

“Are you going to kiss me or stare at me all night?” you whisper.

He grins, his free hand reaching to cup your cheek as he finally presses his plump lips against your own. Your hands move slowly up his chest, fingers grasping the material of his shirt.

“Finally,” you whisper, mouth breaking into a grin as he rests his forehead against yours.

Alfie matches your grin, his hands settling firmly on your hips as he lifts you with ease, settling you onto his lap as his lips find yours again his tongue slipping into your mouth tangling with your own.

Your hands move up his muscular arms, the feeling of them beneath your fingers making you groan into his mouth.

“Let’s move to the bedroom yeah?” he asks, voice gruff as his lips press along your jaw.

“Yes,” is your breathless response, your fingers tangling in his hair as he stands, your legs wrapping around his waist.

His hands find your backside, squeezing the skin as he carries you to his bedroom, kicking the door closed before Cyril can find you and follow you in.

Alfie sets you down on your feet and you immediately reach for the buttons on his vest, desperate to see the body you’d felt beneath his clothes on his bike. You manage to get the vest off, pushing it down his arms and immediately do the same to his shirt, grinning at the sight of his muscular, tattoo-covered chest.

“See something you like?”

“I do indeed,” you tell him, reaching up to kiss his lips as your hands find the buckle on his belt, easily getting it open before unbuttoning his trousers and shoving them down his hips.

“Right, your turn then,” he says.

His hands are rough as he pulls off your clothes, the outfit you’d painstakingly picked out for tonight mixing with his own discarded on the floor.

Alfie groans at the sight of you in just your black lace underwear, and when you reach to hook your fingers in the waistband his hand is quick to cover your own.

“Leave ‘em on,” he mutters, his lips finding yours once again as he pulls your body against his.

His hands roam over your back, moving down to your lace covered backside, fingers digging into the skin as he lifts you up and carries you over to the bed, dropping you onto your knees.

Alfie watches, hungry expression on his face as you lie back against the mattress, your legs opening to give him a view that makes his cock twitch, but he ignores it as he climbs onto the bed, hands reaching for your legs as he pulls you closer to him.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he breathes, hooking your legs onto his shoulders.

His lips press a trail of kisses down the inside of your thighs, his beard brushing softly against your skin as his fingers brush along the lace of your panties, hooking a finger along the strip of material hiding your slit from view.

A gasp leaves your lips as his tongue first runs along your slit, flicking against your clit. He clearly knows what he’s doing, he’s well practised and you both know it so you let your head fall back and enjoy it, his tongue feeling incredible against the most sensitive part of you.

Your grip in his hair tightens as you feel your orgasm impending, his tongue working you faster as you move your hips rubbing yourself against his face.

The moan that escapes your lips as your orgasm crashes over you is louder than any you’ve let out during sex, and your fingers grasp his hair tighter as you come down from your high.

“Fuck,” you mumble, head tipped back as Alfie pulls away, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand watching you with a grin your grasp on his hair finally relaxing.

“Alright, there love?”

You groan, looking down at him and rolling your eyes at the smug grin on his face as he takes hold of the black lace between his teeth and slowly pulls them down your legs.

Discarding them, Alfie kisses his way up your body and once he’s close enough, you take his face in your hands, pulling him closer so you can kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips as his hands find your waist.

“You have condoms?” you whisper against his lips.

“In the drawer,” he mutters, pulling away to reach over to fish a condom out of the drawer. He stiffens as you reach down to grasp his already hard cock in your hand swearing as you begin to slowly stroke him.

Alfie settles onto his knees, fumbling with the condom while trying to get it open as you continue you stroke him grinning at how distracted he is with just one hand on his cock.

“Need some help?” you ask, earning a glare from him as he finally tears open the packet.

“Got it,” he mutters, swatting your hand away so he can roll the condom on himself, stroking his cock a few times as you lie back against the pillows, smiling up at him as he watches you, mesmerised by your body.

He lines himself up with you, rubbing himself along your slit as you reach for him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pull him down closer to you.

“Fuck,” Alfie groans at the same time you let out a gasp as he finally slides into you, his thickness filling you up. He pauses for a minute, his lips finding your own once again and your nails dig into his back as he starts to thrust.

He feels perfect inside of you, much better than previous lovers. The way he holds you as he thrusts into you, his lips kissing every inch of your skin he can reach, your nails scratch paths down his back as you wrap your legs around his waist.

You try to match his pace, moving your hips back into him as he trusts, but soon enough he takes over, and you do nothing but lie there and let him, the feeling of him making your fingers grip him as tight as you can, your toes curl, and your lips unable to say anything other than his name.

His thumb finds your clit, rubbing the sensitive ball of nerves as you find yourself getting closer to the edge again.

Your lips collide with his as you both find your climax, your tongues tangling together as you moan into his mouth. He continues to thrust until you’re both spent, finally pulling out as he pulls his lips away from yours.

Alfie rests his forehead on your chest as he catches his breath, his hands holding your waist as you run your fingers through his hair, feeling guilty for how hard you pulled on it earlier.

Soon enough he sits up, pressing his lips to yours.

“I’ll be back in just a minute,” he says, his lips brushing yours.

He gets up and you watch his bare arse as he makes his way into the en suite.

Left alone with your thoughts, you sigh as you sink back into the pillows, slipping beneath the blankets as the cool air makes a shiver run through your naked body. This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go, you never do this on the first date, never go this far so quickly. But somehow, with Alfie, it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels right.

Alfie makes his way back into the room and climbs into bed beside you, those big arms reaching towards you to hold you tight against his body and tucking your head in under his chin.

“So you’re a cuddler are you?” you tease, settling into his chest.

“You can’t tell me this ain’t fucking nice,” he says, lips pressing against the top of your head.

It is nice, so nice that you don’t want to leave. But this is only the first date, you never intended to have sex on the first date and now you’re on the verge of already spending the night with him when all you intended for tonight was to have dinner.

You can already imagine the look on Nancy’s face if you come home tomorrow morning, still wearing the outfit you’d worn tonight. The idea of that smug look alone is enough for you to shift so you can kiss him softly.

“I should go,” you whisper against his lips.

“Stay the night,” he mutters, his arms tightening around you as you attempt to pull away. “I’ll cook ya breakfast in the morning.”

“Oh well that changes things,” you tease.

“Just stay.” Alfie’s eyes are drifting shut, his face softening as he holds you a little tighter and while you’re telling yourself to take this slow, that you really should leave and give yourself time to process the night’s events, everything about him is telling you to stay.

Gently you press a kiss to his chest, your hand gently rubbing his side as you settle in against him. His fingers brush softly along your arm and a tired smile stretches across your face.

“Alright, I’ll stay.”

The first thing you notice the following morning is Alfie’s arms still wrapped around you.

It takes you a minute to work out what’s going on, where you are and why arms are holding you against a solid chest, but soon enough the night before comes back to you. Alfie’s promise of breakfast and his tired voice asking you to stay the night brings a smile to your face as you glance up at him.

“Good morning.”

He’s awake but just, his eyes half open, a deep frown on his face as he reaches to rub his eyes with one hand.

“Mornin’,” he mutters, voice deep from sleep.

You press a kiss to his chest, earning a grumble from him as he throws his arm over his eyes to block out the light breaking through the gaps around the edges of the blinds.

“Not a morning person?” you ask, fingers curling in his beard.

“Didn’t I fucking warn you ‘bout that?”

“Nope. It’s cute though,” you tell him, laughing when he grunts in response.

You sit up, pulling out of his grip and glance around the room looking for wherever your clothes ended up last night.

“Third drawer, grab a shirt if you want,” he mutters, pointing to the chest of drawers on the other side of the room.

“Thanks,” you say, leaning in to kiss his cheek before sliding out of the bed.

As you approach the drawers, you hear the sound of scratching on the bedroom door followed by a loud whine. Cyril.

“Fucking hell,” Alfie mutters.

“Where do you keep the dog food? I’ll feed him,” you offer, slipping a grey t-shirt over your head and your underwear back up your legs.

“It’s in the kitchen. Can make yourself a cup of coffee while you’re out there if you want.”

“You want one?”

“I’ll get it when I’m awake,” he mutters, turning over to bury his face in the pillow. When he speaks again, his voice is muffled. “Don’t go making any fucking breakfast, told ya I’d do it.”

Opening the bedroom door, you manage to slip out without letting Cyril in to disturb Alfie and lead the large dog out into the kitchen. You fill up both his food and water dishes before making a cup of coffee, sinking into the couch with it and smiling when Cyril comes to join you, his head resting on your lap.

The morning is quiet, peaceful, as you sip your coffee and gently brush your fingers through the dog’s fur.

Soon enough Alfie emerges from the bedroom, dressed in a matching shirt, his hair a mess atop his head.

“You awake now?” you ask, watching as he makes his way over to you, his frown hidden partially behind a pair of glasses you’ve never seen him wearing before.

“Partially,” he says, stopping to pat Cyril’s head.

“I didn’t know you wear glasses,” you point out, smiling as he leans in to press a kiss to your head.

“I wear contacts when I go out. Too fucking tired this early in the morning to put ‘em in,” he explains, swiping your cup of coffee from your hand and taking a sip.

He twists his face up in disgust, handing the mug back to you as you laugh.

“Fucking sugar. How do you drink it so sweet?”

“It’s because I’m so sweet,” you joke, earning another kiss to the top of your head.

“That’s true. Now, breakfast,” he says, clapping his hands together startling Cyril who quickly lifts his head to see what the noise was. “Relax mate, only me. Pancakes sound good?”

“Sounds perfect. Do you want help?”

“Nope. You keep that pretty arse of yours right there, yeah?”

You grin up at him, angling your chin just right before speaking. “Okay, now come give me a kiss.”

He happily obliges you, leaning down to press his soft lips to yours before heading off towards the kitchen. You watch over the back of the couch as he cooks, looking content as he cooks and you decide to join him.

“Thought I told you to stay over there,” he says as you pull yourself up onto the benchtop.

“I wanted to be a little closer to you,” you tell him.

Alfie grins as he comes to stand between your legs, your hands finding his hips as you bring his face down to yours.

“If they burn them cause you’re fucking distracting me you’re eating the burnt ones,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Worth it.”

He chuckles against you, his chest rumbling with laughter as he presses a kiss to your forehead. With ease he pulls himself from your grip, so he can flip the pancake in the pan.

“Too bad you put your shirt back on, should have left it off,” you comment, grinning at the glare he shoots at you.

“You think so aye?”

You nod, grin widening as he sighs and strips off his shirt, playfully throwing it at you.

“Much better.”

Watching Alfie, his hair a mess, bleary eyes hidden behind his glasses, mouth stretched open in a yawn as he cooks you breakfast, you find yourself yearning for more of this in the future.

Tags: @tommymcartney @misselsbells06 @lauren-raines-x @innerpaperexpertcloud @lizyshores

Next Chapter

[boldlyanxious]

Designs on you

Jasonette July prompt 18: design

July

Masterlist

Marinette hadn’t made an appointment but the shop appeared to not be busy. Maybe she could get in pretty quickly. Shocking for how many positive reviews it had. There were a few negative ones but they just seemed like haters. They didn’t even seem like they had been to the shop. Maybe someone just didn’t like a tattoo parlor in the neighborhood.

The door made a quiet tone as she entered. She looked around. It was very clean. Not at all what she had expected from a tattoo parlor. She had only been in one once when she went with Alya. Marinette had chickened out. Alya was getting a tiny fox but Marinette didn’t want to do something little that she didn’t feel connected to. But she hadn’t been ready then to go for a larger piece covering her side like she was now.

She guessed the man who came from the back was the tattoo artist on duty. He was very tall with dark hair. He looked exactly like she would expect. His arms were muscled and covered in tattoos. She briefly wondered if he had any art under the shirt that stretched tightly over his muscled chest. She pulled her thoughts away and looked up at him. He seemed surprised to see her. Probably not surprised at business, but surprised at the tiny woman in dainty business apparel walking into the shop.

“You here to get a tattoo?” he asked.

“Yeah.” she said, a bit hesitantly.

He glanced down at the desk. “Did you make an appointment? I don’t have anything in the schedule. ”

“I didn’t make an appointment. I figured I would see what times you had available instead.”

“You’re in luck. I was supposed to be closed today so I don’t have anything scheduled.”

“That’s great. I won’t be able to back out.”

She laughed nervously at her half joke. He eyed her for a moment.

“Are you sure this is what you want? It won’t come off easily.”

“Yes. I made the design years ago. I just get nervous sometimes.”

He nodded and held out his hand to see her design. He looked it over for a moment. Then pulled out some paperwork.

“Standard paperwork for liability and care after.” he added. “It's a nice design. You must have been barely old enough when you designed it.”

“The first version I made when I was 9. I’ve updated it a lot since then. But I’m happy with how it looks now.”

They discussed the process and the design for a few minutes and he made a copy of the design for his records. He made a quick sketch as well for her to approve how he made her design for the transfer. He took her back to the studio room and prepped a space to get started. He made sure she had eaten and stayed hydrated that day and let her know that it would take several hours or they could split it into 2 sessions. She said she would rather do it all at once so he just let her know to discuss when she needed breaks.

Marinette flinched when he put his hand on her bare skin. Even knowing it was going to happen didn’t stop it from tickling. He paused while she worked on stopping her squirming so he could get the transfer applied to get ribs. She focused on holding still and expecting his touch. He seemed very focused on his work. She tried not to think about how nice his fingers felt brushing against her skin. Before he began he checked to make sure she was ready and had an idea of what to expect with how she would be laying and the best way to hold herself and breathe.

He was quiet at first and Marinette focused on trying to maintain her position through the stinging. She did her best to remain still as he moved from one side to the other. She was starting to feel stiff and she really wanted to shift but didn’t want to mess it up. She really wanted a break but he said it would be best if he could get a certain amount done before they took a break. She was pretty sure he could tell she was getting restless because his hand moved and put slightly more pressure on her than he had before. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back trying to think of how great it would look when he finished. It was only a few more minutes before he pulled away and told her it was a good time for a break.

She stood and stretched and he offered her some water and a granola bar to help her make it through the rest. She moved around and went into the bathroom to splash her face before she felt ready again. He recommended a few stretches she could do from a poster on his wall that would help her manage to make it through to the next break. He seemed distracted on his phone but when she finished he was ready again. She laid back in the chair with her side exposed as he started up again. It seemed to feel a lot worse when he started again. She stopped most of the noise she wanted to make and instead sucked in a fast breath. Then focused on blowing the air out slowly rather than shifting away.

“Good girl,” he said, before continuing on.

Marinette felt herself flush and she didn’t think it had anything to do with the continuing pain. She tried not to think about the pain but somehow she only noticed his hand as it moved to a different spot on her side. The gentle movement felt like a caress in comparison to the burning feeling left in the wake of the needle. Once they got back into the rhythm he started talking to her.

“So what made you decide that the art needed to go on now rather than later?”

“Well, I’ve wanted it for a long time, but I am making a dress that will show most of the side off. I thought it would look nice showing through.”

“That should do. Do you make a lot of dresses?”

“Yes, actually. I’m a fashion designer.”

“A dress showing off the side doesn’t sound like your everyday dress. Is it for something special?”

“I’ve been designing for a client having a formal event. He invited me to that as a way to expand my business because he was impressed with my work.”

“That should be nice. I like to display the work I’ve done, so if you get a good picture of the tattoo in the dress it could be a good thing for both of us.”

“I’ll make sure to do that.”

He suggested a final break not long later. He said like with the first break it would feel a bit worse right after but it would be easiest for both of them if they had a chance to stretch out a bit. She treated it much the same as the first one, just moving slightly more carefully with more of her side feeling raw. He seemed to be on his phone again, but also watching her a bit more than the first time. She still tried to do a bit of stretching and moving around until he headed back to the tattoo space.

She was prepared for it to be more tender when he started this time so she managed to keep her breathing in check. He moved quickly and carefully filling in the lines with color but also moved to conversation to distract her more quickly this time.

“You drew this when you were a kid still?” he asked.

“Well, the first time I did. This is just the version I settled on. I use it in my designs a lot like a signature.”

“That's some dedication. What made you decide on it?”

“A picture of my parents the day my dad proposed to my mom. It was in Paris, where I’m from, and the chestnut trees were in full bloom. I’ve just always loved the way they looked.”

“I don’t think I even realized chestnut trees bloomed. I guess I just never thought of it.”

“They have a lot of them in Paris. There is basically a blossom season in Paris but chestnut was always my favorite. I tried to confess to my crush when they were blooming back in lycee because I thought it would be romantic.”

“That doesn’t sound like it worked the way you wanted.”

“It was a disaster. I stumbled all over my words and he told me all about how he should bring his crush there. I ended up talking about fabric for 10 minutes before he finally redirected the conversation. When we left he told me I was a great friend.”

With the conversation suddenly going to a place Marinette didn’t like to remember she forgot to focus on her breathing and holding still. She made a pained noise and jumped, grabbing his hand without even thinking. He patted her a bit and rubbed her arm to calm her down. She caught her breath and refocused on her breathing. He waited until she was back into position and held the tattoo needle steady above her before he restarted.

“We only have a few more minutes. It will be a bit rough for you and you will want to move, try to refrain.”

She did well for another few minutes but then she started squirming again. He added pressure to help her relax but she struggled each time the needle moved. He pressed his free arm down on her and said.

“If you can't hold still, I will have to pin you down. I can't have you messing up all my hard work.”

Marinette froze and looked at him wide eyed. He winked but still held steady until she nodded at him to continue. She gripped the side of the chair and closed her eyes. She focused everything on breathing steady and within a few minutes he had stopped again. He spent a few minutes wiping away a bit of blood and ink before showing her the final look before he wrapped it carefully and explained the instructions for care. They went to the counter and paid. He suggested that she return when she wanted to add to the design; she had mentioned wanting it to travel down her thigh too.

“It turned out very nice. You might be my best side piece.” he said.

Marinette stumbled over her goodbye at that. She looked at him but his smirk seemed to suggest he knew exactly what he had said. She reentered the front of the shop and walked back to the counter. She held out a card for him. He took it with a grin. Their fingertips brushed with the exchange but he reached up and gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing her hand and taking the card. Marinette met his eyes and held them for a moment before she turned and headed for the door, smiling.

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@jasonette-july-event | @theymakeupfairies | @emjrabbitwolf | @vixen-uchiha | @trythisagainlove | @trippingovermyfeet | @tbehartoo | @adrestar | @zynna

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 51

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 3,279

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Author’s Note: Holy crap, can y’all believe I dove back into writing this fic after almost two years with no updates?! I’m still shook over it haha. I will say that this fic has gone way off canon at this point (I haven’t watched the last few seasons of the show and also didn’t finish the last few issues of the comics). However, I’ve had a vision for certain characters and events for the last how many years, so I don’t plan to change them just to try and fit canon. I also now realize that while I tried to make “you” as nondescript as possible, there are physical traits and actions of her character that haven’t been as inclusive of all potential readers as I had thought when first starting the fic 5 years ago. I apologize for that, and plan to be more aware of those things with any reader characters I write in future fics. My plan is to post a chapter update every Friday from here on out, until it’s over, so fingers crossed I can accomplish that. Enjoy! :D

Cloud Nine

You surfaced from the depths of sleep slowly, rather than the more abrupt jolt to consciousness that usually started off your days. Feeling cozy and relaxed, a slight smile tipped your lips in contentment. It didn’t take long to realize that the reason for your positive mood was the large, warm body with which you were currently sharing the tiny, twin-sized bed.

Eyes blinking open, you took in the delightful sight of masculine bare skin. You were curled up against Negan’s side, cheek cushioned on his chest and both legs were wrapped around his nearest thigh. The bedsheet was pulled up over your back and ended teasingly right above his hips. One of your hands lay palm-down on his stomach, fingers twitching slightly in delight at the feel of the hard muscles beneath the soft skin. You could tell from the curve of his body that he was sitting with his back reclined against the rickety headboard. You might’ve found his positioning odd, but you were still a little hazy from sleep and so could only feel happiness at not waking up to an empty bed, like last time. 

You were on cloud nine after talking things out with him last night. Being able to work through a conflict together had been major progress, and you had been proud of yourself for laying down your boundaries regarding your here-to-stay friendship with Ben, as well as standing your ground regarding the situation with Trixie and the pregnancy test. It was important that Negan learn to trust you when it came to situations such as those, and it seemed as though that message had finally gotten through to him last night. 

The fact that he had even come to your room and taken the huge step of apologizing for his hasty reaction still had you a bit in shock. The evening had panned out much differently than your original plan of going to bed angry. Instead, you had gone to bed very satisfied, and then woken up next to the man who was very quickly becoming essential to your daily happiness.

He must’ve felt you shift against him, one hand coming down to rub your bare shoulder as he gave a soft, “Mornin’, doll.” 

His raspy morning voice sent tingles down your spine, even as your brain fought to stay awake. It still felt way too early to be sitting up and conversing, so instead of returning the greeting, you buried closer into his side and grumbled, “What time is it?” The words were muffled against his skin, nose pressed into his chest hair as you inhaled the glorious male scent of him. 

You felt him lean over towards the side table. He must’ve been checking your watch, because he replied, “‘Bout 6:50.”

“Jesus Christ.” 

“Language.” 

“Hmph. Do you always get up so early?”

“It’s more productive than sleeping half the day away and being late to everything.” 

That got more of a response, as you finally lifted your head to glare up at him for the jab. However, he didn’t notice, as he was too focused on the book held in front of him. It was then that you realized why he was sitting up in bed, a smirk crossing your face at the novel he had open and was intensely reading. You felt a spark of desire low in your belly, the sight of a sleep-tousled and naked Negan lounging in your bed while reading Harry Potter an unexpected, but welcomed, aphrodisiac.

“Thought you didn’t read ‘fucking kid books’?” you sarcastically asked, quoting back his initial description of the series. 

You received only a low grunt in response, his eyes not leaving the page. You weren’t offended, since you’d probably react the same way to someone trying to interrupt a reading of Harry Potter. In fact, you were a bit jealous that he got to experience the magical world for the first time. His curiosity must’ve gotten the better of him when he saw it lying on your bedside table, and it appeared as if he had already read a small chunk of it. 

He didn’t seem to notice you staring, his attention still focused on the book. In fact, he held the page a scant few inches from his face, eyes squinted into slits. The sight was a tad humorous, though you wondered how long he had been struggling to see the words. 

“I thought you needed glasses to read?” you asked. 

“Fuck, you always so full of questions this early in the morning, doll?”

You pinched his side hard enough to make him jump and growl out another expletive, before giving him a saccharine smile and lifting a brow expectantly when he glared down at you.

Attention finally taken off the book, he reached over and plopped it down on the side table before rubbing his eyes with both palms. “I do. Felt like it took me a fucking hour to get through that last page.”

The fact that he had continued trying to read and hadn’t easily given up, despite his struggle to see the words, told you more than anything how much he must’ve been enjoying the novel. A warm thrill settled in your chest at the thought of him taking an interest in something he usually wouldn't bother with simply because you enjoyed it. 

The warm thrill morphed into more of a low heat and traveled down your body as your gaze refocused on his bare skin. Moving the hand on his stomach upward over his chest, your fingertips traced the outline of the tattoo on his left pec.

“What prompted you to get this?” you asked, curious if there was a meaning behind the skull and criss-crossed rifles.

Giving a low chuckle, he replied, “Youth and stupidity.” 

Giving a huffed laugh in return, you trailed curious fingers over to the other tattoos on his arms, inquiring about each one as you went. Some had a story behind them, others not so much (you had tried not to roll your eyes when he explained that the revolver on his right forearm was the same one he had handled once and thought was ‘fucking cool as shit’). He also had a few scars on his upper body, some from before the apocalypse but most from after. You listened intently as he opened up about each one, drinking in as much personal information about the man beside you as possible.

Not wanting to stop the exploration just yet, you pushed up on your other elbow and journeyed over his throat, tracing his Adam’s apple before running your fingers delicately through the surprisingly soft beard framing his gorgeous mouth. 

Capturing the questing hand in his own, he brought your fingers to his lips. The breath caught in your chest when he kissed the mostly-healed scar from the knife injury you had acquired a few weeks prior. Heart beating frantically at the gentle gesture, you smiled up at him when he released your hand and allowed it to resume exploring.

“So,” you tried for calm and casual, fingers moving up to lightly trace his ear before diving into his thick hair and mapping the streaks of salt within the pepper. “What are your plans for today?”

It took him a few seconds to answer, his eyes having fluttered closed as your nails gently massaged his scalp. You smiled at his obvious enjoyment of your touch, at how he had lowered his walls in this moment and was allowing himself to be both physically and emotionally vulnerable. 

“I wish they were to stay here and enjoy this fucking delightful body of yours all day, but I have a meeting with my Saviors at eight.” 

The thought of spending an entire day frolicking in bed with Negan caused a dreamy sigh to leave your lips. His eyes opened and zeroed in on your mouth at the sound, that magical tongue of his coming out to lick his bottom lip as he added, “Though, that’s still about an hour away…”

At that, he quickly rolled over so his lean body was pinning you into the mattress, his lips cutting off your squeal of surprise before it even left your throat. The hand still in his hair tightened, causing him to give a low groan and grind his hips down into yours. You tried to make a mental note of his reaction to the touch, but seeing as how there were no barriers keeping his quickly-hardening erection from pressing into your thigh, all higher levels of brain function quickly flew out of the room. 

Bracing above you, he leaned down and started kissing your neck, a move guaranteed to make you melt. When his mouth descended over the curve of your breasts, you tried to lift your head to watch his downward progress but a sharp pang of discomfort at your scalp made you wince and try to jerk away, which only succeeded in making the pain even worse. 

“Ow, wait!” you blurted, causing Negan to instantly freeze and look up at you in alarm. 

“Doll, what-”

“You’re on my hair! Move your hand!”

Quickly realizing his mistake, Negan moved the hand that had accidentally been pinning a large chunk of your hair, and by proxy your head, to the mattress. 

“Fucking hell, I’m sorry, doll,” he cursed, making as if to lift his body off you entirely. 

Now wanting his faux pas to ruin the moment, you pushed his shoulders sideways and hooked a leg up over his hip before commanding, “Roll over.”

He hesitated for a moment before relenting, the two of you somehow able to switch places on the narrow, twin-sized bed without falling off. Once the semi-awkward resituating was done, he was on his back and you were straddling his hips. The move caused the sheet to fall off, exposing your entire body to his gaze. Based on the way his eyes grew hazy with lust as they took in your bared curves, not to mention his obvious erection, it was safe to say that he didn’t mind this change in position one bit. 

Warm, calloused palms drifted up over your thighs, hips, and the sides of your waist, before cupping breasts that were begging for his touch. Leaning down, your already-hardened nipples pressed into his palms as you kissed him hungrily. Shifting your hips, you started rubbing forwards and backwards over the erection pressed between both your lower stomachs. You moaned into each other’s mouths at the sensation, pussy lips parting around his girth so that your wetness coated his cock, the fat head bumping against your clit with each slide. 

“I think I like being in charge,” you purred. 

Giving a dark chuckle that sent shivers down your spine, he replied, “Enjoy it while it fucking lasts.”

Planning to do just that, you reached over to pluck a condom off the side table, incredibly grateful to whatever deity helped you successfully open the foil packet and smoothly roll the latex down over him on the first try. Tossing the empty packet over the side of the bed, you wrapped slightly trembling fingers around his swollen cock and lifted your hips, lining him up with your entrance. Maintaining eye contact, you slowly slid down his length, mouth falling open on a whimper at the feel of him parting overly-sensitive flesh that was still a bit sore from the activities of the previous night. Despite Negan’s initial threat over you stealing both coconut oil from the kitchen and condoms from his room, his only “punishment” last night had been fucking you relentlessly into the mattress until you had multiple orgasms and could barely even remember your own name.

In spite of the slight burn as sore muscles again stretched around his thickness, you didn’t stop until he was fully seated inside. His cock felt so big in this position that it was almost overwhelming, but you sat up so that your hands were braced on his chest and used your thigh muscles to start a slow up and down rhythm. 

His fingers reached up and pinched your nipples, causing you to clench around him. He groaned at the sensation, gaze becoming more intense when you slightly picked up the pace. It felt magnificent, but at the same time you craved more of the hard, rough friction that he had given you the night before. Body trying to find that friction on its own, your hips swiveled in a circle as you sank back down, which must’ve felt just as amazing for him as it did you, since he gave a strangled moan at the same moment his hands immobilized your hips in a bruising grip. 

“Alright, doll. My turn.”

That was the only warning you got before he braced his feet against the mattress and moved up in you, hard. Falling forward onto your palms with a gasp, fingers curled into the bedsheet and hips writhed in pleasure when he repeated the move. He continued the sharp, deep thrusts, watching your face closely before wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and pulling your mouth down to his own. His tongue thrust into your mouth possessively, as if trying to claim as much of you at once as he could. The pace was brutal yet unhurried, each thrust feeling like a deliberate attack on your sanity as his movements drew fire over your skin and consumed you, body and soul. 

Pressing down into him while leaning forward caused your clit to grind against his lower abdomen in the perfect way with each thrust, building up the orgasm that had previously hovered just out of reach. Breaking the kiss with a cry, you saw the expression of intense concentration on his face as he continued to move your bodies together in perfect rhythm. Breasts pressed into his chest and mouth panting at his ear, your body gave into his, letting him drive you up and over the edge, into the abyss of pleasure. 

“Negan,” you moaned, muscles tightening then releasing as the orgasm washed through you. His answering grunt and curse signaled his own release, though he continued his driving rhythm through it all, wringing each drop of pleasure from your body until it collapsed limply on top of his.

Resting your head on his shoulder, you again traced over the tattoo on his chest, waiting for your heartbeat and breathing to slow back down to normal. Glancing up his body, you found him already looking back down at you, a relaxed and satisfied grin on his lips that was only witnessed behind closed doors, when the two of you were alone. His hand idly stroked over a piece of hair laying on your shoulder, the gesture making you think back to earlier when he had accidentally pinned you to the mattress, and the resulting ungraceful maneuvering to switch positions in a bed that was entirely too small for two adult bodies. A light laugh escaped you that caused Negan to raise an eyebrow in question. 

“Just remembering your super smooth move from earlier,” you teased. You wouldn’t admit this out loud, but it was actually a bit of a relief to know that even Mr. Harem-of-Wives, Sex-God Negan wasn’t always flawless in the sack. 

“Making fun of me, doll?” he growled. 

“Maybe.”

Whack. The loud crack, accompanied by the slight sting of sensation against your left asscheek, caused you to jump and look at him in wide-eyed shock. 

“Did you just spank me?!” you exclaimed.

“Maybe.”

Before you could form an appropriate reply, he silenced any retort with his lips. Shallow creature that you apparently were, the move worked, and when he pulled away a long minute later, your brain conveniently forgot why you were supposed to be coming up with a retort in the first place. 

Negan glanced over at the side table, where your watch sat. Also looking over, you saw that it was now almost 7:30am, which meant he had half an hour to go back to his room and become presentable for his 8am Savior meeting. You were curious what the meeting was about, but didn’t want to ruin the perfection of the morning by bringing up a potentially serious topic. 

“Much as I hate to say it, doll, duty fucking calls.”

Your expression must’ve showcased more than you thought, since he gave a chuckle and said, “How about I make it up to you by finishing our fucking chess bet?”

Interest instantly piqued, you sat up on his chest and replied, “The third outing?! Can we go today?”

He looked at you consideringly, before giving a slight nod and agreeing. “We fucking could, but I won’t be free until the dinner hour.” 

Much as you didn’t want to skip out on your duties, even if it was with the leader of the establishment, you also weren’t about to turn down more alone time with Negan, especially outside of the Sanctuary. 

“I could meet you at the front gate at 5?” you suggested. That would give you just enough time to make sure dinner was fully prepped and almost ready to serve, since the community ate their meal from 5 to 7pm. It lessened the guilt, since you wouldn’t be completely leaving Ben and the staff short-handed. 

“Works for me, doll,” he said, gently rolling you off his body and to the narrow strip of mattress free beside him.

Biting your lower lip to keep from gasping at the empty sensation when he pulled out his now-flaccid dick, you watched him rise slowly from the bed. You took possessive pleasure in viewing his naked body, thighs clenching at the sight of him stretching muscular arms up towards the ceiling with his head tipped back. The pop of his back and resulting grunt made you comment, “I think from now on we might be better off in your bed. I have no clue how we even managed to fit in mine all night.” 

“Thank fucking god. If I have to spend any more nights in that fucking thing, I’ll be stiffer than a cock in a brothel.” 

Rolling your eyes at his that’s-so-Negan one-liner, you pulled the sheet up over your chest and settled in to watch him get dressed. You felt a bit like a voyeur when he removed the condom, tied off the end, and tossed it into the little garbage can. You felt a lot like a voyeur when he leaned down to pick up his boxer briefs and the sight of his bent-over ass almost made you whimper out loud. 

“You sure you can’t skip the meeting and stay here?” The words left your lips before your brain could even stop them. 

Turning to look at you, the desire must have been written all over your face because that muscle in his jaw ticked and he ran a hand down over his beard in obvious frustration. You swore he started to take a step back towards the bed, but he caught himself and instead returned to the task of getting dressed. 

When he was done putting on the navy tee and dark grey pants, complete with his signature black boots, he did finally come back over to the bed. Leaning down, he cupped a warm hand possessively around the side of your neck and placed a heated kiss on your lips before slightly pulling back and saying in that sinful, husky voice, “5 o’clock, doll. You better be ready for me.” 

With that, he straightened, crossed the room, and let himself out. As the door clicked softly shut behind him, you replied with a dazed, “Yes, sir.”

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[spencersawkward]

switchblade faith//spencer reid - chapter 9

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her new friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid. (Baby Spence)

pairing: Fem!OC x Spencer

word count: 4.1k

content warnings: tattooing/tattoo aftercare, mostly fluffy!

A/N: hi! it's been a while since i updated this series, but i love it too much to leave it behind and i'm also always going to be obsessed with sub!spence. anyway, all my tattoos are stick and pokes atm so if some of the tattoo stuff if a little off, i'm sorry!

masterlist

it's really a matter of principle that keeps me bound to the promise. if I were a weaker woman, I would back down from the chair, would have shaken my head and told JJ that no, actually, I will not be getting something permanently inked on my body purely for the fulfillment of a bet.

but with most of the team around me and a couple flutes of champagne flowing through my veins, I give in. it's going to be small, even though I'm not going to see it until it's done. Penelope and Morgan being in charge of the design scares me, though. I start to get nervous that I'm going to end up with a unicorn tramp stamp.

"where are you gonna get it?" Garcia nudges my shoulder once we get inside the tattoo parlor. her eyes are traveling over all the intense artwork, which I can already tell is very much not her style. the walls are covered in intricate prints from past customers.

I think to myself for a moment. if I'm being completely honest, there's one place I've been meaning to get a tattoo, but never have. it's easy to hide, which is good. as long as the design they choose isn't horrifically embarrassing, I'll do it.

"I'm thinking..." I pull the waistband of my jeans down a little until it's right below my hip bone. "there."

"sexy." she says suggestively. I laugh.

"depending on what you guys have decided to give me, yeah." I angle for a hint, but Penny isn't caving.

"are you ready?" Morgan asks, having returned from the front desk area, where he's been talking to the artist. I take a deep breath, peer around at the rest of the team. we look like an odd bunch in here, an assortment of ages all gathered in a dark tattoo parlor.

Spencer's watching me with a concerned expression and I realize that I've been staring around for a decent amount of time. he doesn't say anything, although I've noticed that he's got a certain face he makes right before he does-- and he's making it.

"Clea, are you sure you wanna do this? you don't have to." JJ touches my shoulder suddenly. I realize that they think I'm genuinely worried and I let out a laugh.

"yeah, I'm fine," I turn to Morgan. "lead the way, handsome."

the tattoo artist has me lie down while he preps all his tools, snaps on his gloves. everyone sees me on my stomach and Emily gasps.

"are you getting a tramp stamp?"

"what? no," I giggle. "I'm gonna get it here." I show them the spot I just showed Penelope, and Spencer raises his eyebrows. Prentiss whispers something in Morgan's ear and the suave agent smirks.

"you're gonna like this." Penny grins. I glance at the tattoo artist to see how he reacts to that statement, but he's got a good poker face, unfortunately.

"are you being serious or are am I gonna hate all of you?" I ask.

"maybe a bit of both?" Spencer says in a slightly higher pitch, looking pleased to be in on the joke. I stare at him in disbelief.

"he knows what I'm getting, too?" I point disdainfully. Morgan laughs at the attitude.

"I told him on the way here."

I shake my head slowly and turn my attention to the boy genius, who is hiding a proud smile. there's a boyish quality to it that makes me feel a little better. I have to pull the side of my pants down as I turn on my side for the artist, and a peek of my black underwear makes Prentiss let out a whistling noise. my cheeks turn pink.

"shut up."

"are you ready?" the tattoo guy asks me. it's only then that I notice we're close to actually getting this done. I have no idea what's going on my body-- but there's no time like the present, right?

"sure."

it's the buzzing of the machine when he finally touches the needle to my skin that surprises me more than the pain itself. I feel myself resist the urge to move away, but I'm still enough for him to keep working.

"how's it feel?" Emily asks.

"like getting a tattoo." I wince. Penelope softens, looking between her coworkers guiltily.

"oh no," she complains, then comes over to me and grabs my hand in hers. "is this better?"

I squeeze tightly at the stinging sensation across my thigh, but she doesn't pull away at all.

"yeah." I smile. everyone is watching me intently, so much so that it puts me off a bit. "can we talk about something, maybe? it doesn't help when you're all staring."

"sure," JJ grins. "so..."

the pressure to start a conversation kills any potential for one, and then Spencer clears his throat. "anybody wanna see a cool magic trick?"

I snort and the rest of the team lets out a chuckle as the genius pulls a deck of cards out of his pants pocket. Morgan pats his shoulder. "I hope it works this time."

"it worked last time!" Reid protests, but his cheeks have taken on a slightly rosy hue. I watch him shuffle the mysterious deck and do some fancy tricks that I've never seen before, the corner of his mouth quirking with a sudden air of confidence.

Penelope is still holding my hand, and I can feel the metal of her sparkly rings pressing against my fingers. I choose to focus on the theatrical movements that Spencer is definitely using on purpose instead of the strange, sharp pain.

he fans out the cards and shows them to me, smiling. "pick a card, any card."

"hmm..." I tap my chin thoughtfully and stare at the bright red designs covering the back. I wonder if it's a rigged deck, or if he actually knows tricks. he doesn't seem like the type of person to be into magic. but then again, Spencer is full of surprises. I grab a random one in the middle, pluck it out and memorize it. a red six of spades.

"alright, then..." he grins and slams the deck back into one neat pile, then does some weird shuffling move again and shows the fanned-out deck to Morgan this time. "your turn."

Morgan's gaze flickers between the cards and Reid's face, which is trying to suppress a smile. the dimple on the right side of his cheek twitches once. when Derek taps a card near the end, Spencer nods and does the same thing that he did when I picked one.

except this time, as soon as he's got the whole deck together, he taps them a bit too hard and they go flying. fifty-two-pick-up style, Queens and Kings and Jokers tumbling to the linoleum floor in a defeated descent. my eyes widen and second-hand embarrassment rolls in, followed by the team's stunned silence.

I even feel the tattoo artist falter a bit in his work.

"oh." Spencer says. JJ puts her hand on his shoulder.

"Spence, it's fine."

"no, no, it's not-- I practiced this, like, fifty times last night--" his face is bright red as he drops to his knees. Penelope glances once at you and you return her stare with a pitying expression. Emily goes to help him, then Morgan and JJ.

"let me just..." he gathers up the remaining cards that they hand him, putting them back together into the pile again. I watch as he goes through them, somehow counting at lightning speed before frowning. "we're missing one."

everyone looks around, but it's obvious that there aren't any more stray cards lying about. I feel bad for him, not only because it didn't work but because he practiced it so much. I've been wondering what he does on the weekends-- magic tricks never even crossed my mind.

then Spencer's face lights up.

he comes over to me and gestures to my side, right by the spot where the tattoo artist is working. "may I?"

"uh--" I glance down at where he's pointing, the small patch of bare stomach. "sure?"

his fingertips graze beneath my tummy, between my skin and the smooth leather of the tattoo table, and snatch a card out from under me. it's barely a touch, but my breath hitches in my throat. my fingers tighten just slightly around Penelope's.

he holds up a red six of spades. the enormous grin on his face gives him away. "this wouldn't happen to be your card, would it?"

I gasp and nod, amazement on my face before it's wiped away by the sharp pain of the needle. Spencer displays the red six of spades to the whole team, then basks in their surprised applause.

Emily's smiling in disbelief. "you really had us going for a second."

"wait, wait--" I poke his leg and Spencer turns to me. "how did you do that?"

there's no way he could have hidden it there without me knowing; if he had slipped a card beneath my bare skin, surely I would have felt it. but the magic man just shrugs and shakes his head at me.

"a good magician never shares their secrets, Clea."

this time, the blush spreads over my cheeks. he's cocky right now, and I'd be lying if I said I'm not enjoying it. he's in his element, I realize, even if it is an unexpected one. and as he puts the cards into his back pocket, the group erupts with questions.

he's done magic before in front of them, but they seem to be awestruck by his performance this time. admittedly, I think the whole klutz act really added a nice dramatic element to it.

I'm mostly quiet for the rest of the tattooing process, although everyone else is chattering about the trick and how well the ink is going to turn out. I'm still wracking my brain for ideas of what they chose, but I honestly don't know. I've been banned from peeking.

maybe this was a mistake-- I've only recently joined this team, and already allowed them to decide what's going to be on my body forever. at least it's small. and maybe I'll actually like it; who knows?

when the artist lets out a satisfied sigh and turns the needle off, however, I find myself twisting around and staring frantically at the new design.

"oh my god."

it's a tiny airplane, with two dotted loopty-loops behind it. just small enough to be adorable.

"what do you think?" Garcia asks, eyeing it herself. they all gather around to admire the new design that sits on the outside of my upper thigh. I giggle.

"I love it."

"don't sound so relieved." Emily laughs. I can't help the bubbly excitement in my stomach.

"sorry, I just didn't know what to expect."

Spencer is staring at the ink when he turns to the tattoo artist. "how long until you think it'll be healed?"

the guy stands up to get treatment stuff for it. "I'd say about two weeks, but it varies from person to person." he leaves to grab cling film.

"I thought for sure you'd be the one to know that." I smirk at the genius. he shoves his hands in his pockets, makes sure the artist is out of earshot, and then looks back at you.

"I do know." he scoffs.

"uh huh." I laugh.

"actually, for the record," he lowers his voice. "I'd recommend at least three weeks instead of two. the last thing you want is infected flesh."

"yum, Spencer. thanks for that image." I smile with wide eyes and he shrugs.

...

it's quiet when I shut the door of my apartment shut behind me. I've got a bag full of supplies with me to clean the new art, and I'm feeling lethargic after getting lunch with the team. because Rossi wasn't around to foot the bill, I made the mistake of offering to pay.

we've got the day off after the most recent slew of cases, so I've determined to spend the rest of my day well. I could curl up with a nice documentary, or I could scrub my kitchen and do a little tidying up around here. god knows the film of dust on my bookshelves needs to be wiped away.

oh my god.

am I boring? maybe. possibly.

I shake the thought from my head and bring my things into the kitchen to organize. after spending a few hours cleaning up, I go out grocery shopping, then come home to sit down with a book. my errands take up so much time, I don't even notice the DC sunlight sinking beneath the harsh lines of the city, drenching my apartment in a silky darkness poked through with lit lamps.

it's already 9pm and I kind of want to hang out with someone, but I doubt any of the team wants to spend any more time with me than they did before lunch. or they might have plans with their families.

well, I know one person who definitely doesn't have plans.

I pull out my phone and hit Spencer's contact before I can talk myself out of it, knowing full well that it's not a big deal but still becoming a little nervous. it rings three times before he picks up.

"hello?"

"hey, Spencer."

"Clea. what's-- what's up?" he sounds more confused than anything. probably because I just saw him about an hour ago.

"I know it's late, but do you wanna come over? I'm bored and I feel like you know more about tattoo cleaning than I do." it's a weak excuse.

"why would I know more about tattoo cleaning--"

"you know damn well why, Reid," I laugh. "don't fish for compliments."

there's a slight laugh on the other end of the line before he replies. "I'll be over soon."

I wait patiently, preparing two mugs of coffee in the meantime. I'm sure we'll both want the caffeine, because I have no urge to turn in early tonight. my stomach twists a bit when he calls to tell me he's here, and I go to let him in. I'm not nervous.

except I actually am a little bit nervous when I open the door and there's Spencer with a shy smile and a coat that's a bit too big for him. it hangs off his narrow frame, and I realize that it must have just started raining. his hair is wet and there are dark spots on his clothes where the water has seeped through.

"get inside, my god." I move aside so he can come into the apartment and warm up. he walks in, looks around at my walls. I realize that he's never been here before. "welcome to my humble abode, Dr. Reid."

"it's nice." he compliments without much emotion. I lock the door and turn just in time to see his hand shaking at his side.

"thanks. let me take your coat." I glance out the window, where I now notice the rain pelting the glass.

Spencer shrugs off his jacket and hesitantly lets me hang it on the hook by the door before turning to him with my hands on my hips. "so, how are you?"

"I'm good," he smiles a little and runs a hand through his hair. "I actually read an article on the way here about those psychedelic mushrooms we were discussing the other day."

"is that, like, our thing, now?" I joke and gesture to the couch, where two mugs of hot coffee rest on coasters. he sits down gingerly on the cushions, sitting at the very opposite end of the couch from me.

"I can send it to you, if you'd like." he smiles.

"please do. I've been hoping for some titillating reading, recently." I hand him the mug and he stop before taking a sip.

"how many sugars did you put in this?"

"relax, genius, I'm not out to get you--" I catch his eye. "yet."

he giggles and takes a sip, then another. the smile tugging at my lips is too obvious for my liking; I'm just glad that I got the amount of sugar correct. it would have been funny to ambush him with a sweetness attack, although I think making him come here in the rain was punishment enough.

"have you ever had oat milk?" he asks out of the blue. I frown.

"yeah, why?"

"just wondering. I'm lactose intolerant and was considering trying it."

"you're lactose intolerant?"

"mhmm." he nods enthusiastically.

"I watched you eat three yogurt cups in a row yesterday." I chuckle at the memory of it. he eats so much and remains as skinny as a telephone pole.

"I love dairy." he shrugs it off. I pull my legs up beneath me on the couch and give him a serious expression.

"well, personally, I think oat milk tastes horrendous and it makes me want to vomit, but you should try it."

"noted."

we start to talk about various nondairy alternatives for coffee and it ends up being a surprisingly fun conversation. talking to Spencer has its own charm-- it's not just a conversation, it's a fully immersive experience. from his ambitious vocabulary to the unconscious gestures he makes, all of it keeps me hooked.

I rest my cheek on my palm, elbow leaning against the back of the couch while I nod along to him talking about almond farming. he's got a disdainful expression on his face as he brings up its environmental consequences, punctuating every few sentences with another sip of his coffee.

the rain is still pouring outside. thunder occasionally rolls over the sky and shakes the windows in their panes. my eyes flit from his face to the view when a flash of lightning catches my attention.

"--sorry, we should clean your tattoo." he seems to catch himself mid-thought, realizing that he came here to help me and not just rant about the business of almonds. I smile.

"no worries. this stuff is interesting to me, too."

"there's this documentary out now about it, too, that I've been meaning to watch."

"really?"

"yeah!" his face lights up. "if you want, we can--" he clears his throat. "we can watch it together."

he blushes as he says it, and I can tell that he's worried about how his intentions will come off. he can't take it back, so he runs the pad of his index over his middle finger and fidgets in a subtle way.

"that sounds like fun." I don't want him to feel weird. we've only hung out a few times, and I'm sort of looking forward to it.

"great," he straightens and adjusts his shirt, which has gotten slightly rumpled from his curling up on the couch. his tie is crooked, too. "where are the cleaning supplies?"

"in the kitchen."

"perfect, we should be doing it in there anyway." he stands, pushes a bit of his hair behind his ear while he waits for me to follow-- and I do, albeit with a wince from my tender side. it doesn't hurt as much as I expected.

he follows me into the minuscule kitchen and doesn't hesitate to start going through the things the artist gave me to take home. there's some foam wash and special moisturizer for it, not a lot. it's small enough that the care will be minimal, which is reassuring.

it's only when Spencer's washing his hands that I realize I'll need to unbutton my pants again in order to reach the tattoo. which means this is about to get at least slightly awkward for the both of us.

he turns around just in time to see me unzipping my jeans and his eyes widen.

"how else do you expect to clean it?" I laugh, and he gulps, visibly. his Adam's apple bobs in his throat and he nods in understanding.

"y-yeah, of course." his eyes are everywhere but on me. suddenly, my kitchen walls are incredibly interesting.

I shove down the waistband of my pants until they're just below my upper thigh, then I sit up on the counter and clear my throat. "I can cover some of myself if that makes you more comfortable."

"no, no, that's okay--" he speaks too quickly, then recognizes his mistake. "it's okay. this shouldn't take very long, anyway."

without another word, I shrug and watch him delicately peel away the film. his fingertips are back to barely touching my skin, just like when he pulled that card out from beneath me, and I stop breathing for a moment.

there's also a gel-like substance under the covering, which he tells me is just standard petroleum jelly. Spencer moves with a near surgical (and altogether unnecessary) precision. his eyes are glued to my skin as if forcing them not to stray to my now exposed panties. it doesn't feel sexual at all because it's not, thankfully.

when he uses the foam wash and begins to rub it into my skin, he frowns with concern and looks up at me. "is this okay? you can do it yourself if--"

"it's fine, Reid," I answer too quickly this time. heat rushes to my cheeks. "I honestly thought this was going to be a more complicated process than it really is."

"it's pretty simple, especially for something this small." he shrugs. "obviously, you don't want to get it infected, so I'd just think of it as treating a cut."

silence in our respective positions at the moment makes me nervous, so I change the subject.

"magic tricks, huh?" if anything, I need to distract myself from the way his hand is rubbing over my skin in a totally nonsexual and platonic way.

he relaxes a little, lifting his gaze to mine with a somewhat pleased countenance. "yeah, I love magic."

it's like peeling back a corner of wallpaper and seeing a shade of red beneath; not a lot, but enough to pique my curiosity. "a man of science?"

Spencer shakes his head at the air of faux sophistication I pour into it. "the world needs some wonder."

he says it in an offhand way, although I feel the weight of it from the way he runs a damp paper towel over the last of the cleansing foam. his touch presses into me and his eyes are lowered in a slightly distant way.

"how long have you been into it?" I fight the urge to ask a million questions at once.

"since I was a kid," he jerks back to attention. the grin on his face tells you just how special this is to him. "I used to buy all the books and practice for my mom constantly."

"did you ever do the trick with the never-ending string of handkerchiefs?" I recall one of the only classic moves I know. Reid laughs.

"that one's easy."

"what about the coin behind the ear?" I throw out another one.

Spencer straightens, doesn't even bother to set down the paper towel, before reaching up behind my ear and pulling away with a shiny quarter set between his thumb and forefinger. "you mean this one?"

there it is again, that confidence I saw in the tattoo parlor. he's standing just close enough for me to notice, and I grin as I snatch the metal out of his hand and set it on the counter beside me. "thanks."

"no problem." he laughs.

"you should do that more often."

"the coin trick? I'd go broke." he jokes. I laugh at the rare appearance of Spencer's playful side, hoping to get a bit more of it before we have to go back to being serious at work.

"magic in general, I mean. I think it would brighten up the office a bit."

he thinks about it for a moment, washing his hands again. the sound of the faucet reminds me to put my lotion on my leg. I get to it while he thinks of what to say.

"yeah, maybe you're right."

"I still find it funny that you're into that kind of stuff." I say honestly. of all the things for him to nerd out about, this feels almost comically unexpected. but Reid only gives me a shy smile before replying.

"it always made my mom laugh when I was a kid."

"is she also good at it?"

"tricks? no," he chuckles. there's a washcloth between his long, slender fingers that he's been using to dry them for the past two minutes. at this point, I think he's doing it to keep from fidgeting. "she says it's an old fashioned thing, and that only made me wanna do it more."

"well," I cap the bottle and set it down on the counter, pull my jeans up and lean against the counter with a smile. "I like old fashioned."

Spencer gives a friendly smile. "me too."

taglist (add yourself here or message me to be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @donald4spiderman @awritingtree @gingeraleluke @bewitchedbibliophile @multixfandomwriter @xoxomgg

[onlydreamofmysoul]

Totally Worth It

The updated links for this series! (Ye’re probably so sick of me saying they can be read individually but I’m gonna say it once more anyways)

In the dark of the night

The best laid plans

Absolutely, unconditionally

What in the name of Merlin

Stand by me

Improvisation

Who would have guessed

Summary:  Nail varnish, trickery, leather jackets and bell bottom jeans. Just a regular Tuesday in the Gryffindor common room.

Oh my god Lily, you have to see this!” Sirius cried almost toppling out of his chair in his attempt to cross the common room to Lily. James, Remus and Peter all raised their eyebrows and exchanged confused looks, none of them having any idea what could have brought about such an outburst.

It was just a normal Tuesday evening in the Gryffindor Tower; first years were panicking over due assignments, the fire was crackling and the Marauders were plotting. They had decided their next trick would be to transfigure all of Dumbledore’s robes into the latest muggle fashions, so naturally Sirius had been flicking through one of Marlene’s magazines for inspiration. That had been before the outburst. Now the three other boys were left just with a piece of parchment containing several question marks and the words ‘flared jeans’ and ‘tie dye’

“Woah Sirius, slow down, you’ll run someone over.” Lily teased as the Black boy skidded to a stop in front of her.

“No time for that!” He cried as he frantically pointed to a picture in the magazine. “Have you seen this?”

Lily’s brows furrowed. “This? You mean the nail varnish?”

Sirius nodded his head as Lily laughed. “You’ve never seen nail varnish before?”

A couple of muggleborns near them giggled and Sirius raised his hands in a defensive stance.

“Hey it’s not my fault that pureblood families don’t go anywhere near muggle products.”

Lily bit her lip but she was still smiling. “Of course Sirius, you’re right, I’m sorry. I don’t have any here with me but I can owl my mother for some if you’d like?”

Sirius’ eyes widened. “You’d do that?”

Remus’ heart clenched a little. Sirius was still surprised when people did things for him with absolutely no ulterior motive.

Lily was already pulling out some ink and parchment. “Yeah of course. What colour would you like?”

Sirius’ face really was comical at this point. “There are different colours?”

Lily chuckled as she nodded her head. “Yeah, hmm let me see… how about I surprise you?”

Sirius leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “Lily Evans I could marry you.” He proclaimed grandly.

James leaned over to Remus. “Mate, do you think we should be worried that your man just proposed to my girlfriend?”

Remus looked at where Sirius was now enveloping Lily in a hug. “Yeah.” He teased. “We should definitely be worried.”

Remus’ studies were interrupted by his very excited boyfriend.

“Remus! Look at my nails!”

A pair of black painted nails were shoved right in his face and Remus actually had to catch Sirius’ wrist to move the hand in question slightly further away from his face so that he could actually see it.

“They’re really cool Pads.” He said grinning at the contagious excitement radiating off the boy in front of him.

“Lily says black is totally punk. They’ll go with my leather jacket, won’t they?”

Remus glances back down at his half finished essay and picked up his quill. “Yeah totally Pads.” He said, already starting to write again. He could hear Sirius moving around him but he had already zoned out – needing to finish this essay so he could get a head start on the rest of his work. Missing a few days every month wasn’t ideal, but Remus was lucky that teachers would let him know what they would be covering when he was out so that he could complete his assignments in advance. They had given him the option of catching up afterwards, but Remus preferred it this way; he already had enough to worry about without an intense workload on top of it.

He knew Sirius didn’t mind and that his boyfriend was happy enjoying his new accessories himself for a little while anyways. He was probably showing off to the entire common room. Scratch that – Remus knew his boyfriend – he was probably showing off to the entire school.

“Hey Moony.”

Remus glanced up from his essay to see Sirius standing in his leather jacket, clad in jeans so tight it was surely illegal, his hair half up, half down (in the way that Sirius knew drove Remus absolutely wild) and last but not least, the famous nails.

Remus’ mouth dried up.

“Wow Pads… you look… you look wow.”

Sirius smirked and strutted to Remus’ side. “I look hot.”

Remus huffed a laugh. “That’s an understatement.”

Sirius slid onto Remus’ lap and held his hands out so the pair could admire them as Sirius wiggled his fingers. “Nice, huh?”

Remus caught his hands and lifted them to his lips so he could press a gentle kiss there. “Very nice.” He agreed. He kissed his wrist, the crook of his elbow in that goddamn jacket, the soft skin where shoulder meets neck and finally, Remus kissed along Sirius’s jawline; he also knew what drove his boyfriend crazy – two could play at that game.

Sirius sighed and tilted his head so Remus would have better access but Remus pulled away and kissed his boyfriend on the lips just once before pushing him gently off his lap.

“I love you.” He said, highly amused at the indignant look of Sirius Black sitting on the floor. “But I need to finish my essay.”

Sirius rose. “Fine.” He announces as he flounced from the room, but he stuck out his tongue at Remus playfully as he left the room causing Remus to roll his eyes laughing. What a dork.

(His dork though).

“Okay boys, the day has come.” James said slinging his arms around Peter and Remus as the Marauders all walked into the Great Hall together for dinner. “We’ve planned for this, are we all ready?”

“You bet your ass we’re ready.” Sirius chirped, sliding into his seat, the rest of them following suit.

“Let’s just review one more time.” Peter said, always the worrier. “So I’ll transfigure his hat, James and Sirius, you’ve got the robes – James you’re doing the top half and Sirius is taking the bottom, right?”

“Right.” They both confirmed.

“And Remus you’re doing the shoes.”

“Yup.” Remus said popping the ‘p’ as he poured them all a glass of pumpkin juice. “Remember;” He warned them, “We all have to do it at the same time, so what’s the signal?”

“When he stands to speak at the end.” The others said in sync, words slightly muffled by the food they were now shoving into their mouths. Remus grinned. “We’re ready.”

The boys ate their dinner, relatively quietly as they all loaded their plates and exchanged secret, excited glances. This wasn’t one of their hardest pranks, not by a long shot but it was definitely one of their most daring.

“And now,” The headmaster said as he pushed back his chair and the hall fell into a silence. “For a few words.”

As one, the four boys cast the charm, wands swishing under the table, all aimed at Albus Dumbledore.

His tall wizards hat folded in on itself until it was a simple headband over his long loose hair. An oversized denim jacket now adorned his arms and, by Merlin, even Remus was stunned by the crop top James had given him – eliciting many a gasp and giggle from the students. Where his long robes had been, now there were a pair of embroidered bell bottom jeans and the entire ensemble were topped off with a pair of sandals Remus was quite impressed with.

The entire hall fell into utter silence as Ms McGonagall stood up in outrage but Dumbledore simply looked down at his new outfit demurely.

“It’s always good to keep up with the latest trends.” He said without missing a beat, throwing a wink at the Marauders and sending the great hall into utter chaos. The four boys burst into laughter with them, filled with a mischievous delight as rumours already were sparking.

“Did you see his tattoo?” Remus heard one Ravenclaw ask and he actually nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.

McGonagall however was not quite as amused as her colleague. She appeared at the Gryffindor table in moments, looming over the Marauders.

“Hello Minnie darling.” Sirius said, donning his ‘innocent’ look.

“Detention, all of you.” She said, her face the picture of disapproval, but Remus was certain that he caught the hint of a smile on her face as she turned away.

The four boys exchanged looks before bursting into laughter once more.

“Totally worth it.”

[maddrmatt]

A Beautiful Future: A Premonition or a Punishment?

New to this fanfic? Click here to properly begin!

Greetings, readers and fellow SoKai fans!

Time for a certain Princess of Heart to take the spotlight in this story!  

Fair bit of warning though, I sort of used this chapter to showcase a few headcanons and speculations regarding the future of the series.  

Also, there’s a little challenge within this chapter that you can take on if you wish.

Enjoy!

________________________________________________________________

Chapter 3: Writings of a Princess

Land of Departure

Dear Sora,

I know it’s been a while since I last wrote to you.  I haven’t really had anything really important to tell you since I came here.

Now something incredible has just happened and I had to tell you first before anyone else.  But before that, here’s a few updates on what’s been happening on this side of reality.

I’m still training hard.  No offense to Merlin, but I think I’m getting way better with my Keyblade training under Master Aqua than him.

My days here at the Land of Departure are filled with learning various fighting techniques or improving my magic skills.  And to test them, I often spar with Aqua, Terra or Ven.  One day, I might even get a perfect score against one of them in our matches.

All of three of them and Chirithy have been very good to me. They’ve really made me feel like part of their family.

But as great as it’s been with them, they’re no true replacement for everyone back home.  I miss everyone:  Mom, Dad, Selphie, Wakka, Tidus, Riku, and you.  Especially you.

Sorry, Sora.  It’s just so hard every day knowing that you’re trapped in that fictional world.  I really wish I could’ve gone there with Riku to save you.  But after being out of action for a year and the fact that I couldn’t even land a single blow on that memory of Xehanort, I knew it was the better choice to stay behind and train even if I didn’t like it.

I really hope Riku finds you soon.  We’re all so worried about both of you.  Since nobody really knows anything about this Quadratum place, we’ve all thought Riku was a little hasty in just taking off there alone.

We still haven’t heard anything from Mickey yet either. Hopefully, he’ll come back soon from Scala Ad Caelum, and he’ll have found something we can use to help you and Riku.  Until that happens, all the rest of us can do is wait.

Anyway, time to tell you the real reason for this latest letter, Sora. And you are not going to believe what it is.  I can hardly believe it myself.

Last night, I had a dream.  It was actually the first dream I’ve had since I came to the Land of Departure.

Not that I’ve minded not having dreams just in case they ended up being recreations of my worst memories.  I’ve already watched you vanish twice.  I don’t think I could bear to watch it happen again in my dreams.

But the dream I had was nothing like that at all.  It was of a wedding, Sora.  Our wedding.

It was an amazing sight.  It was in this gigantic chapel that looked like it was in Radiant Garden, and it was filled with all your friends from around the worlds.

Many of our fellow Guardians of Light and closest friends made up our wedding party.  It was hardly a surprise to see Selphie as my maid of honor or Riku as your best man.

You looked so handsome in the suit you were wearing.  And judging from the stunned look on your face when you saw me coming down the aisle, I must’ve looked pretty beautiful to you.

It was truly incredible, Sora.  It felt so real and so wonderful.  I wished it never ended.

But, unfortunately, as it is with dreams, we all have to wake up eventually.  And when I did, the happiness I felt ended up giving way to other emotions as I reflected on the dream.

First of all, I felt a little confused.  As good as that dream was, I couldn’t help but wonder why I had it at all.  I mean, wouldn’t you find a little strange to have a dream about a wedding especially since we haven’t even had our first kiss yet?  It’s kind of rushing things a little.  

But don’t get me wrong, Sora.  I know, deep down in my heart, how we truly feel about each other. I wouldn’t have shared that paopu fruit with you otherwise.  And when the time is right for it, the idea of getting married to you is something I will embrace wholeheartedly.

So, I thought more about the dream and believe it or not, I started to think that it was not merely just a dream.  I wonder if what I saw was our future.  It definitely did feel like that since there were so many unfamiliar parts in it.  

For example, I had no idea there was a tradition in Radiant Garden weddings for the bride and groom to crown each other with symbolic flowers.  Then again, I could have known that if the knowledge came from a memory from when I lived there.  Maybe I attended a wedding there when I was young.

But what really stood out to me and made me believe that this could be our future was the many unfamiliar guests.  I knew that because I’ve been studying the details of your last two journeys from Jiminy’s Journal and the Gummi Phone.  And even though the Journal of your first journey was erased (Naminè’s still really sorry about that), I still remember everything about it from being in your heart through it all.

So, I was able to recognize who you had met and who were strangers. They were far too numerous to mention. But here are some examples that really stood out to me.

A tall woman with long black hair wearing a tan colored dress and a beautiful turquoise necklace with a raccoon, a dog and I think I saw a hummingbird flittering around her.

A pair of robots, one yellow and box-shaped, the other white and cylindrical, who were holding hands.

A couple that consisted of a redhaired woman and blonde-haired man who appeared to have some kind of hairless rodent on his shoulder.

A teenage boy and girl along with a younger boy and a company of animals such as a bear with gray fur, a panther, an elephant with a tuft of brown hair and a quartet of vultures.

A large family that appeared to be a mix of humans and skeletons along with a very colorful winged dog and a giant winged cat.

A boy with red hair (whose head looked triangular) along with another boy with green hair and a bunch of other teenagers as well as some kind of strange teal animal that looked like a cross between a duck and a beaver and a man with brown hair, poor posture and wearing a lab coat (who wears that to a wedding?).

A princess dressed in a beautiful green gown accompanied by a prince in a green suit with a blonde woman dressed in pink, a short old woman dressed in white and wearing sunglasses and a snake around her shoulders as well as an alligator who was carrying a trumpet.

A very unusual group consisting of two men and a woman with blue skin and pointy ears along with a dog-sized dragon, a centaur, and a winged lionlike creature with horns and a scorpion’s tail.

A girl with bushy brown hair among what appeared to be a family of giant frogs.

A woman dressed like she was some kind of islander with a burly man with numerous tattoos (I think I saw one of them move) over his body along with a pig and a chicken that didn’t look very smart.

A family who seemed to be some kind of royalty consisting of a princess in a simple green dress with long curly red hair along with three identical boys with the same kind of hair, their big, strong father with a peg leg and their very elegant mother.

A boy and a girl who looked like they were twin siblings who were accompanied by a pair of old men who looked like twins as well.

A redhaired boy in the company of a group of what looked like various human-sized bugs.

There were so many more, but I think I’ll stop here.  With the large number of guests at this wedding, I could go on listing them for a long time.  But it does seem there’s a lot more friends for you in the future.

Unfortunately, while I was mulling over the dream further, a horrible thought came to me.  I started to wonder if the dream, as beautiful as it was, wasn’t meant to bring me happiness at all because it was actually showing the future that we could have had but now would never have.  And the true reason of it was to punish me for my failures in the fight against Xehanort.

I know you wouldn’t like to hear this, Sora.  But there are still days where I can’t help but feel responsible for your disappearance and think that if I had made some different choices, you’d still be here.

I know it was my choice to fight alongside you because I wanted to keep you safe the same way you’ve always done for me.  But looking back, I now see it was foolish to assume that my training alongside Axel would turn me into a Keyblade wielder on yours or Riku’s level. And it was probably an even worse idea for a wielder with very little actual battle experience to go from basic training to a high stakes battle with nothing in between.

We may have been desperate to stop Xehanort before he went after the New Seven Hearts especially since he had already assembled all his darknesses. But we probably could’ve and should’ve explored some other options instead of going to fight the Organization right away after you woke Ven.

Since Ienzo told us that they had a replica body ready before we even left for the Keyblade Graveyard, we could’ve gotten Roxas or maybe even Xion out of your heart before the fight.  In Axel’s words, they were the old hands when it came to Keyblades.

We also could have made a bigger effort to find and save Terra first even if our chances were pretty low.  That would not only have gotten us a more experienced wielder, but it would’ve also lowered Xehanort’s ranks by one.

Maybe if we had done things that way, we would’ve had more experienced Keyblade wielders to fill out the Seven Guardians of Light.  And even if it would be disappointing to be put in the reserves, it would’ve been worth it if it led to you being safe.

So, those are the reasons I believed that dream was a punishment. But you’ll be glad to know, Sora, that I only entertained those beliefs briefly.

After thinking it over some more, I decided that it didn’t matter what that dream’s purpose was.  Comfort or punishment, I’m going to actually use it to serve my own purposes instead.

I’m going to let it remind me of what my ultimate goal is and drive me to be the best Keyblade wielder I can be.  One that’s going to make the forces of darkness think twice before causing trouble and one that you and Riku will be proud to have fighting alongside you.  And hopefully, that will lead us to a future like the one in the dream or at least one that’s pretty close.

In fact, after seeing that dream, I think I may end up actually proposing a couple of ideas to Aqua and Master Yen Sid.  I’ve been thinking about them a lot and maybe now is the time to try to put them into action.

Since I need to get some real battle experience to become a stronger Keyblade wielder, I’d like to go on a journey throughout the worlds to gain some. Hopefully, Aqua will think it’s a good idea.  And even though there’s been little sign of the Heartless and Nobodies since Xehanort’s defeat, there is one thing I really wish to do.

I’d like to try to find and identify the remaining three of the New Seven Hearts.  After all, who’d better to find them than someone who’s part of the same group?  And if we knew who they were and what their home worlds were, we’d be in a better position to protect them if someone tried what Maleficent and Xehanort did.

Who knows?  Maybe all those unfamiliar faces at the wedding were not only friends you’ll make on future adventures, but ones I’ll make on my own adventures.  Maybe even the remaining New Seven Hearts were among them.

I also have an idea that may be able to help in the quest to bring you home. If Fairy Godmother could bring me back to the Final World, I could talk to that girl from Quadratum again.  She may not be able to remember certain things. But she might be able to tell us something about that world that could help.  

Naminè might even be able to help with this plan.  Even if you only met that girl briefly, that may be enough for her to be considered connected to you and therefore, Naminè’s memory powers can work on her.

Hopefully, the Masters will think that these are good plans.  I really want to do any part I can to not only help bring you and Riku home, but also to protect the worlds as both a Keyblade wielder and a Princess of Heart.  After all, with you two gone, someone’s got to pick up the slack.

Well, I think that’s enough for now.  It’s nearly time for breakfast and then it’s training until lunch.  But before I go, there’s just one final thing I’d like to say.

Whether that beautiful dream shows a wonderful future that is meant to be or not, it doesn’t matter.  Because the only kind of future I’ll ever wish for is one in which we’re safe, we’re happy, and we’re together.  That’s all I really need.

See you soon,

Kairi

________________________________________________________________

Much later, the training hall in the Land of Departure was filled with the sounds of clashing Keyblades and various shouts of magical invocation.  While those sounds were nothing uncommon in that location, there was an unusual intensity that day.

As Aqua, Ven and Chirithy watched, a heated sparring match was taking place between Kairi and Terra.  But much to their surprise, the more experienced Keyblade wielder was actually struggling as the young rookie was keeping him mostly on the defensive.

“Wow!  Kairi’s on fire today!” exclaimed Ven.

“She is, indeed,” concurred Chirithy.

“Well, she has improved a lot in her skills since she came here.  But you two are right.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this driven before,” said Aqua.

“You’ve got that right, Aqua.  If she lands one more hit on Terra, this’ll be the first time she’s won by a perfect score,” said Ven.

As the match went on, Terra blocked blow after blow from Kairi.  Then, strangely, she ceased her attack.

Terra saw his opportunity and charged toward her with a downward slash. The Princess dodged to the right narrowly avoiding the hit.

“Light!” she cried out as she fired a small but powerful Light spell at Terra’s side.  He grunted as the magic struck him and knocked him off his feet.

“Point to Kairi,” declared Aqua.

“That’s three to nothing!  Kairi wins!” exclaimed Ven as Chirithy clapped its paws together.

“Well done, Kairi,” said Aqua.

“Thank you, Master Aqua,” Kairi said as she walked over to Terra and helped him up.  

After exchanging bows with each other, the Princess of Heart said, “I hope that didn’t hurt you too badly, Terra.”

Terra chuckled.  “Not at all.  It helps that you’ve learned how to restrain your magic during training.  But I’ve got to say, Kairi that I am impressed. That’s the first time since you’ve come here that I’ve been unable to land a single hit on you.”

“You’ve certainly come a long way, Kairi.  Today, you showed some truly exceptional skill and strength.  You should be very proud of yourself,” said Aqua as she, Ven and Chirithy approached.

“Well, I’ve had a good teacher and some great sparring partners.  But I think it really helped that when I woke up today, I just felt a little extra drive,” said Kairi.

“Yes.  We noticed,” said Aqua.

“Why is that exactly?” asked Chirithy.

A certain smile came to Kairi’s face which caused her four friends to exchange knowing looks.  They had spent plenty of time with her by now to know what exactly brought out that special smile of hers: thoughts of a certain someone close to her heart.

“I had the most amazing dream.”

________________________________________________________________

Notes from the Mad Doctor:

I thought the best way for Kairi’s spotlight chapter would be to do in the style of one of her letters to Sora.  I’ve used it before as readers of my big fic Kairi’s Epic Journey would know.

So, in case it wasn’t obvious, the challenge I mentioned at the start is that list of unknown guests.  It was quite a challenge to write all those characters by description alone.  I hope you all will take a shot at identifying them. Some are pretty obvious, but some may be a little more difficult.

I hope I did a good job in trying not to make this chapter’s narrative too similar to the previous chapters.  I actually tried having Kairi leap to the punishment notion before the premonition notion.  But unfortunately, the flow didn’t work right.

Fortunately, the views on the punishment notion are a little different. Sora has absolutely no regrets for what he did and believes that he’s being unfairly punished for breaking rules he had no idea existed.  Kairi, however, believes her punishment is deserved since she blames herself for what happened to Sora.  Fortunately, both are able to use that dream to keep on fighting.

I hope you all aren’t put off that this is more like a series of one-shots centered around a certain plot device (the wedding dream) instead of a congruent storyline.  That was what this project ended up being.

I give my thanks to whoever reads this chapter.

I also give my special thanks to @fandomchanger, @flynn-science​, and @ladylucky​ for their likes on the previous chapters as well as @sokaiweek, @phoenix-downer, and @the-secret-place​ for reblogging the previous chapter.

Comments, likes and reblogs are much appreciated!  Stay tuned for what comes next because it’s going to be a real feel-good chapter!

________________________________________________________________

Onto the next chapter!

[yikesharringrove]

Just Play Along

2/2 giveaway fics for my 1k follower celebration! This one is for @sciscoekid​ who requested fake dating!

Read on Ao3

Steve was staring at the paper.

It was nice paper, that thick cardstock reserved for events like this one.

Theodore and Karen Wheeler and proud to announce the marriage of their daughter, Nancy Elizabeth Wheeler, to Jonathan Matthew Byers. 

She’s getting married. And gave Steve a plus one he can’t fill to a destination wedding he can’t afford. 

Awesome. 

Billy pushed past where he was standing in the kitchen, Steve barely budging at all.

“You okay, Pretty Boy?” Steve and Billy had lived together for nearly six years now. 

It had been an accident, how they wound up together. Billy used to live across the hall from him, but as fate would have it, he was being kicked out by his then-boyfriend, while Steve was kicking out his then-girlfriend. 

Steve was red-faced, wine drunk, pissed off at his cheating girlfriend, had pointed right at Billy. 

“You a fucking cheater?”

“Nah. Bit of a drinker, though.”

“Great. You’re moving in with me.”

So the room that had once been Steve’s girlfriend’s craft room, was turned into Billy’s bedroom. 

And it’s stayed like that since. 

Billy whipped the invite outta his hands.

“Who’s this?”

“My ex-girlfriend.” Billy raised one eyebrow at him. “From high school, not the cheater. Although, I mean, she didn’t cheat on me, but we never really broke up and she started dating this guy,” Steve pointed to the invite, Nancy and Jonathan staring lovingly at one another. “And now I’m gonna go to their wedding alone, because I’m a fucking loser and-”

“Okay, deep breath.” Steve stared him down, taking a comically short breath. Billy stared at him. He took a deeper one. “Look, I can go with you, if you want.”

“It’s up in some resort town in Maine, and I’m broke as all hell.” 

“I can spot it.” Steve huffed. “C’mon, Pretty Boy. Let’s go, get wildly drunk, and have a good time. You haven’t taken more than two days off in like, a year and a half.” Steve rolled his eyes. 

“Fine.”

-

Steve had slept almost the entire flight. 

He got nervous on airplanes, had taken a sleeping pill for the cross country flight. He had curled against Billy’s side, drooled on his shoulder for a few hours. 

Billy watched him, the way he would snuffle, his nose twitching like a little rabbit. He smiled fondly at Steve, running one hand through his hair, trying to wake him up gently before touch down. 

“Sugar, we’re here.” Steve blinked up at him, smiling sweetly and all Steve pretty. 

Billy’s stomach fluttered. 

-

The town was beautiful. 

It was early fall, off season for a little resort town, and the main street was nearly dead. 

Billy drove the rental car to the boutique hotel. Nancy had rented out a block of rooms for all the guests. 

They pulled up, stretching as they got out of the car, Billy getting the bags from the back. 

“Steve!” He smiled stiffly as Nancy threw herself down the stairs, wrapping him up in a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you.” She held him at arm's length. “Oh! And this must be your boyfriend. Billy, right?”

“Oh, he’s not-”

“Yep! Steve’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand to her, shaking it firmly, elbowing Steve. 

Nancy led them into the hotel, chattering to Billy, asking them how long they’ve been together. 

“Steve never tells me anything, anymore. Of course, he’s mentioned you, but he never said boyfriend, just, you know, Billy did the sweetest thing today.” Steve spoke with Nancy every few months on the phone.

“Well, it kinda happened accidentally. We had been living together for a while, but we both just wanted something more, you know? Just couldn’t resist each other.” Billy was laying it on thick. 

They had reached their room, and Steve was gonna lose his shit. 

There was only one bed. 

Because Nancy had smugly updated them to a suite. A honeymoon suite. 

She gave them each a hug before leaving them to get settled in.

“Why did you go with it? Tell her we’re together?” Billy shrugged.

“Drive her crazy. Seeing your ex happier with someone kinda sucks, even if you are getting married.”

“What, so you’re trying to make Nancy jealous?” Billy grinned at him. 

“It’ll be fun. Just, play along.”

-

“Just play along.” Steve was mimicking snarkily. “It’ll be fun.”

He was in the huge bathroom in their huge suite. He was changing for dinner with the entire Hawkins crew, introducing them all to his fake boyfriend for the first time. 

He yanked on a sweater, combing through his hair one last time before sighing into the mirror. 

He’s been in love with Billy for years now. 

Pretty much ever since he’s moved in. And it’s hard enough, pining from across the hall for your roommate, but now a roommate that you’re sharing a bed with, and telling everyone you’re together, Steve is fucking over it. 

He let himself out of the bathroom, glowering at Billy. 

He was shirtless, going through his suitcase on the luggage rack at the end of the big bed. 

It’s not like Steve has never seen him topless, hell, Billy tends to walk around the apartment butt naked. 

But now Steve is in this predicament, and the last thing he wants to see is Billy’s golden, gorgeous body. 

Billy stood up, smiling at him. 

“You ready?” Steve nodded as Billy tugged on a button down shirt, leaving the top few undone, showing off his tan chest, a few of his tattoos. 

They were quiet in the elevator, and then, just as the doors were sliding open, Billy settled one arm around Steve’s waist, pulling him into his side. 

He smelled great, like the deep cologne he only brought out for special occasions. He leaned to Steve’s ear, made him shiver as he rasped,

“Play along, Sugar.”

He pulled Steve to the restaurant across the street, smiling at the hostess and saying Byers-Wheeler wedding?

Everyone cheered when they saw Steve, and his heart panged a bit. He really needed to get back to Hawkins more often. 

Hugs were passed around, and they all found their seats. 

“Why didn’t you tell us you and Billy had started dating?” Steve smiled at Joyce sheepishly. 

“It was such a natural transition for us, I guess. We just kinda, fell into one another.” Steve’s pretty sure he heard that in a movie or pulled it right from a shitty young adult novel. 

“Well, you two are sweet.” She smiled at them. 

And Billy swooped forward, kissing Steve right on the cheek. Steve’s face burned. 

“Oh, come on! Give him a real kiss!” Steve glared at Dutin as the whole gang began jeering at them, wolf-whistling and causing a damn commotion. 

Steve shot the rest of his wine, grabbed Billy’s cheeks, and planted a fat one on him. 

-

They were quiet as they made their way back up to their room, Billy trudging a few feet behind Steve. 

He was terrified he had overstepped his bounds by kissing Billy. He had been so quiet after that, so drawn into himself through the rest of dinner. 

He sequestered himself back in the bathroom, changing into his pajamas. 

When he returned, Billy was sitting back in the bed. 

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. I just wanted them all to shut the hell up.” He fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt. Billy watched him for a second, smiling up at him. 

“Nah, Pretty Boy. It’s okay. Just not the way I woulda done it.” Steve swallowed thickly. 

“What does that mean?” Billy stood up slowly. 

He walked forward, made Steve feel small, made him feel like Billy took up all the space in the room. 

He took Steve’s wrist, tugging him close to his body. 

Steve’s breath hitched as Billy slid his arms around his waist. 

When their lips touched it was nothing like in the restaurant. 

They both moved slow, just a gentle press into one another. 

Billy's hands were warm, searing his skin through his shirt. His lips were as soft as Steve had always thought they’d be, dreamed they’d be.

He pulled away, Steve’s eyes still closed. 

“That’s how I woulda done it.” And he was gone, the bathroom door closing softly behind him. 

Steve pretended to be asleep when he came out of the shower. 

The bed dipped behind him. Billy always ran hot, ran like a fucking furnace. 

He scooted closer to Steve in the small bed. The sheets were soft. Billy tugged on the blanket, and Steve was scooched back.

His eyes were wide in the dark, his back pressed against Billy’s side. 

Billy breathed deeply. Steve’s sweatshirt had ridden up in the back, and their skin pressed together. 

It felt like Steve was being burned, Billy’s skin so hot against his. He tried to get away, but the soft mattress gave too much, kept rolling them into one another. 

“Relax, Baby.” Billy’s voice was gruff. He sounded half-asleep. “Can hear you thinkin’ from here.”

“Sorry. Goodnight.” And then Billy rolled a bit more, his front pressed into Steve’s side. One thick arm draped over Steve, and all the air was knocked right from his lungs. 

“‘Night, Sweet Thing.”

-

Steve had avoided Billy at all costs the next day. 

He had gotten up before the sun to go on a run, get breakfast from a little cafe down the street. 

He only saw him back in the room, both their wedding suits hanging neatly on the bathroom door. 

“Hey.” Billy’s smile was relaxed. Steve’s was less so. “You ready for this shindig?” Steve just nodded. 

-

The ceremony was short and sweet. Nancy looked beautiful in her delicate lace dress. Their vows were lovely, and Steve definitely teared up. 

He was able to avoid Billy more at the reception, staying on the dancefloor and not looking towards his seat next to Billy’s. 

Until he turned around, turned around, and saw Billy pressed against a cater waiter, smirking down at him like he was gonna eat him. 

Steve took a shaky breath. 

And Billy looked up, bright blue eyes meeting his across the way. 

And Steve ran. 

The reception was outside, made it real easy for Steve to sprint down the road. 

“Steve!” He kept running, put his head down, and went. “Steve, can you slow down?” Steve stopped abruptly, his chest heaving. He flopped onto a bench, tugging his jacket tighter around him. Billy slammed down next to him, panting hard. “Christ, Pretty Boy, you’re a fuck of a lot faster than I was expectin’.”

“Swam in high school. Got a lotta stamina.” Billy huffed a laugh. 

“Any reason why you needed to do a quick 5K?” Steve bit his bottom lip. 

“It’s dumb.”

“No, it’s not, Stevie. Never dumb when it means somethin’ to you.” 

“I just, I uh, you were flirting with that waiter.” His heart was pounding in his chest. “Gonna blow our cover.”

“That’s not why you freaked.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Nope.”

“Yes!” Steve was starting to get frustrated, Billy didn’t know him like that. 

“Nuh-uh.” Billy did know him like that. “Just tell me what’s buggin’ you, Baby.”

“It’s that! It’s the Baby and the Sugar and the sleeping all pressed together, and the that’s how I woulda kissed you and just fucking all of it, Billy!”

“I don’t, I don’t know if I understand.”

“Billy, I’m in love with you! Have been for fucking ever, and it was fine, but doing this, pretending like this, it fucking hurts Billy.” He turned away to swipe at his eyes.

“Baby-”

“Don’t.”

“Just hear me out-”

“Billy, it’s okay. I know you don’t feel the same and-”

“Who said?”

“Who said what?”

“That I don’t feel the same.” Steve’s heart stuttered in his chest. 

“I just, you never said anything.”

“Neither did you.” Billy was staring intensely at him in the fading light. 

And Steve didn’t think. Didn’t want to think. 

He swung one leg over Billy’s lap, settled his weight, and fucking kissed him. 

It was nothing like either kiss. It was real, and sweet, and Steve can’t remember the last time he’s been kissed like this, like Billy was simultaneously stealing the breath right out of his lungs, and breathing new life into his body. 

They both pulled away, breathing hard, staring at one another. 

“Fuck,” Steve breathed.

“My thoughts exactly.”

[solari-writes-things]

Return

🛑 WARNINGS: Spoilers to The Phantom Menace. 🛑

✨ requested by: @sazafraz​​

✨ Pairing: Gray Jedi!Maul x OC

✨ Summary: Maul returns to Norella after a journey of self-discovery, having kept in contact with her through their Force Dyad.

✨ Solari Says: You’ll recognize this plot, Saz, because it is one we’ve talked over before on Discord. I hope it brings you as much soft as I hope. <3 For those who do not know, Norella is the Empress of a system called Lucent Prime, a fan-made kingdom that @sazafraz​ has thought of and told me all about. Also, Maul had only been stabbed. Not bisected. Know this, before moving forward.

✨ Prompt(s) -

Kunzite - experiencing unconditional love.

gif credit: to the OP.

MORE MAUL | MORE STAR WARS | > MASTERLIST < |

Norella’s eyes bore into the bustling city outside of her quarters window. Her drapes were pulled apart just so that she could thoroughly observe everything that was occurring--for any sort of signs that she could possibly receive. She remained hopeful, passionately hopeful that he would find himself back on her planet once more.

She missed Maul. Her heart ached every time that they would see each other, as clear as she saw the structures that were sprouted out of the ground below--all without the physical presence that she so craved. Her hands crossed behind her back, letting out a heavy sigh as she turned slowly to finally go perform the duties she was set.

Heron, her assistant and father figure since her parents’ passing, had his arms folded behind his back properly and bowed when Norella had moved her attention to him.

“What is on our agenda today, Heron?” she asked quietly, her posture professional but her eyes just hinting at her small bit of sadness.

“Nothing out of the ordinary today, my lady,” he answered honestly, straightening out.

“Good... I do not think I can handle something out of the ordinary,” she responded, her eyes averting downwards.

It was like a switch flipped, the parental side of Heron beginning to peer through the cracks of formality. “Is there something troubling you, Norella? You seem... off balance.”

The charm of Lucent Prime was that Norella and her direct assistants were all force-sensitive. As much as it made the Empress feel more at home, it also made things much more difficult in terms of stowing emotions.

Heron had been privy to Norella’s growing feelings for Maul. She had been responsible for him when he was found, stowed away on a supply ship headed for her planet after his battle with Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was injured, barely hanging on through the sheer anger and vengeance he had stored inside. She had helped him regain himself, and during this time they had discovered the Force had directly connected them.

He began to calm down. He became less angry, less fueled by vengeance, the longer he stayed in her care on Lucent Prime. When he processed that he had been abandoned by his prior Sith master, he had decided to leave Lucent Prime in order to discover what his life was meant for. He wanted to figure out what he wanted for himself, if he wanted to build something after he had realized that no one from his past life was coming back.

It had been months now. After he had made his presence known for almost three months time, he had promptly disappeared.

She could not fault him for wanting to pave his own way, it was something that she knew he desired. A life of hatred, a life of abandonment, was something that would have drove him mad should he linger on it for longer.

She was happy to get any update she could. Little by little, she could see him change. His posture, the way that he spoke, began to change.

“I miss him,” she says simply, knowing Heron would understand.

“I know you do, my lady,” Heron responded, his eyes much softer than they had been before. “I’m sure that he will reach out to you again, in time. For now, we must focus on the task at hand.”

Norella nods her head a bit solemnly, before beginning to walk beside Heron out of her quarters. The door shut behind her, she lets out a soft exhale as they traverse the massive halls. The clicking of her heels echoed in the empty halls, as her mind began to wander during their short trip to the throne room.

When she was about to begin her ascent up the three steps leading to her throne, she pauses. There was a shift in the air, a breach in the Force that she just felt stir in her stomach. However, as sudden as it was, there was a familiar warmth that accompanied it. She places her hand over her heart in response to it, feeling it begin to pick up it’s drumming in her chest.

Maul.

She turns, her eyes much more lively as they searched in the throne room--as if he were going to barge through the door. She hears his ship fly overhead through the walls, lifting up her skirt slightly so that she may begin to move quickly.

She begins her running, her heels clacking on the floor. Her guards tried to step and stop her to due her sudden movements, but Heron raises a hand for them to stop. And they do, pausing in their tracks and watching as their Empress moved as fast as her garb would allow.

She charges through a blast door that opened up, causing the warmth of the sun to leak through and crash against her skin. She winces a little due to the sudden light change, but her eyes quickly adjust to the ship that had made its home on the landing bay.

The doors hissed open, and she could feel her heartbeat rise the lower it got to touching the bay floor. When it gently clattered, she began to approach it slowly.

She could see the beginnings of his dark boots stepping down, making her heart race just a little more. More of him began to reveal itself as he descended down the ramp. He had his dark robes on, his hood up and over his horns and tattooed skin. He paused when his eyes rested on Norella, and she could feel his content coursing through his veins through their dyad.

She picks up her skirt again, speed-walking towards him. As she drew closer, she could see the difference in his tunics that lay against his form. They were black, with intricate designs that only shown when the light hit against it. They were beautiful, and they suit him much more than the simple black that he had worn when she met him.

“Maul,” she greeted, smiling sweetly when she got close enough. She wanted to hug him, pull him close so that she could receive the physical affection she so craved.

“Empress Norella,” he greeted back, bowing in formality when she addressed him.

“I... I wasn’t sure that you would be returning,” she admitted, attempting to swallow the feelings that she could feel boiling between them.

She could feel that he missed her, just as much as she did him. That he was also starved of affection that he so craved, hungry for her presence. She watched him closely, on his body language that gave away her assumption. And if she payed enough attention, she would begin to notice more differences with him.

He gazed into her eyes, and she felt entrapped by the blue that he had. Something about the way it contrasted against his red and black skin drew Norella closer and closer to him, finding it harder to look away. “To be quite honest, I wasn’t sure if I was to return when I had left here, but... I found myself thinking of you. Often. So I reached out to you.”

“I... appreciated that, you know. I enjoyed seeing your progression, your face,” she folded her arms behind her, averting her eyes downward.

She could hear Maul step closer and closer to her, and soon his body was only about a foot from hers. She looked up at him once more, a little surprised to see his soft expression as he studied her. He felt as if it had been years, even though it was only months, and seeing her beauty in front of him was almost surreal.

Like he had been dreaming.

They didn’t need to say anything to each other, in terms of their feelings. Their dyad made it impossible for them to hide the swelling love that they felt boiling in their chests. It was almost overwhelming, as Maul reached up and placed a hand at her cheek.

She leaned into his ginger touch, the aspect of it almost feeling imaginary. Something that she had craved for so long, and finally able to receive it. Nothing that they experienced through their dyad could surmount to the moment that they were in now.

So he leaned in, his blue eyes much more gentle than she had ever seen them. She knew what he was trying to do, and frankly hurried for their lips to meet in the middle. To describe their kiss would be a cliché, but she was half inclined to agree with them; there were butterflies in her stomach, fireworks setting off between the two of them. Whatever it may be, she felt it amplified by the Force--by their dyad.

And when they reluctantly pulled away, he brought her in close so his arms wrapped around her. His palm held the back of her head, so her temple was placed against his chest. She hummed in content, her arms raveling around him as she relished in the attention she had finally been able to receive.

“I take it this means you’re staying...” she said, her voice a low mutter as she almost drowned in the feelings she had.

“I realized on my journey, that I couldn’t see myself anywhere else,” he admitted, his thumb brushing against her white hair.

And she smiled.

__

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[shining-red-diamond]

Shallow Waters (Part V)

Words: 1.7k

Pairing: Hendery x Brittany (OC) (feat. WayV and Louis)

Rating: PG-15

Genre: fluff, some angst

Warnings: mentions of sex and mating, blood, mentions of abandonment and infidelity

Brittany’s lunch consisted of ham, broccoli, and mac & cheese, while Hendery chowed down on some raw salmon. He hated that he wouldn’t be able to try the foods that she or other humans enjoyed, but he was grateful she was willing to find him a variety of different fish. That way, he didn’t feel as if he was eating the same thing over and over again. The drinks, however, didn’t affect him, yet he preferred to drink just water.

The weather cleared up by the time the couple had finished their meals. While still cloudy, the rain and thunder had come to a halt. Hendery glanced out the window and watched the ocean as Brittany cleaned the dishes.

He then thought about his siren friends. It had been almost two months since he last saw them, and he figured they had to have been finished with helping the other sea creatures. What better opportunity for Brittany to meet the sirens?

Turning to Brittany, he asked her, “Would Brittany like to meet Hendery’s friends?”

She paused midway through loading the dishwasher when he spoke. There was a moment of silence before she answered, “Oh, the sirens?”

“Yes.”

“Of course, I would,” she smiled as she closed the dishwasher and started it. “When?”

“Would Brittany like to go now? The storm has stopped.”

She glanced out the window to see he was right. The clouds still looked heavy as if the bottom might fall out again, but if they were only gone for a few minutes they should be fine.

“Alright,” she nodded. “I’ll go change.”

Knowing they might have to swim again, Brittany went back to her room and slipped on her blue bikini before putting on a loose cover up. Hendery was in awe of her when she returned to the kitchen.

“Let’s go quickly before it rains again,” she said as she grabbed the merman’s hand, almost ignoring his admirations of her.

When they reached the beach, Hendery transformed into his merman form. He led her out in the same direction of where they first hung out about two months earlier; but instead of stopping there, they swam a little further until there was what Brittany could describe as an oasis. Palm trees as tall as a two story building produced coconuts, golden sand surrounded the sapphire-colored lagoon, and various birds inhabited the surrounding trees. A few stray cats and dogs drank from the water, but they never bothered the couple.

“Wait here,” Hendery instructed his lover before swimming off into the ocean.

Brittany sat down on the beach and patiently waited. Looking around, she spotted a shaded area by the lagoon and decided to wait under there. The moment she sat down a soft mew came from her left. When she took a glance, the sound had come from a Siamese cat sniffing at her wrist before licking her right on her dove tattoo. The cat then stared up at her with large blue eyes and sat down.

“Where did you come from, little buddy?” Brittany giggled. “You don’t seem to have a tag on you.”

Holding her hand out with her palm facing up, the cat sniffed her hand again and nuzzled its face in it. She scratched his head and smiled. The cat purred as he (she checked) brushed against her hip before resting his head on her stomach.

“Am I warm?” Brittany asked as she pet his back.

For a few minutes, she bonded with the cat, petting his head as he purred happily. She even named him Louis, despite him not being her pet.

“Brittany!” Hendery’s voice called to her, followed by a few splashes.

His head emerged, followed by his body and tail crawling up on the beach. He looks so gorgeous soaking wet from the ocean, Brittany thought as he adjusted himself in a comfortable sitting position.

The cat didn’t mind being carried in Brittany’s arms as she walked over to where her merman was sitting. When she sat down, the feline leaped out and scurried over to Hendery’s tail.

“Did Brittany make a new friend?” Hender chuckled as the cat tried playing his scales.

“He just came up to me as if he had known me for a long time,” she explained. “He’s a very social kitty.”

Hendery pet the furry friend for a second before he told Brittany to look out towards the ocean. “The sirens are about to appear.”

Sure enough, six heads popped up and moved closer towards the couple. Frightened by the sudden movements, the cat jumped and ran off.

“Funny creatures,” the merman commented before turning his attention back to the six sirens, who were now seemingly wading in the water.

“Hello, Brittany,” a siren with round eyes and a broad nose greeted with a friendly smile. “Hendery has told us great things about you. I’m Kun.”

All of them were well built with toned abs and strong biceps, but in a way that was pleasing to the eye and not so much body builder. It was more of them gaining strength and being fit from doing whatever it is they do. They each had a distinct tattoo somewhere on their arms, neck, or torso. Kun had a fatherly presence as he seemed to be the leader figure of the group and sported a mark shaped in a sort of sun with rays on his shoulder.

“Sirens who are opposite of the myth,” the tallest one with a deep voice jokes.

“I’m aware,” Brittany nods. “What’s your name?”

“Lucas.”

One by one, the sirens introduced themselves to Hendery’s lover. Lucas’s skin was more tan than the others, and he had a sort of flower tattoo on his left side. Xiaojun was well-mannered with sharp eyes and a mark of a starfish shape on his hip. The second tallest, WinWin, had a unique ears shape where one was more pointed than the other and a softer jawline with some sort of mended heart shape etched the center of her sternum. A feline faced siren of the bunch called himself Ten and sported an intricate tattoo on his right forearm; and the smallest siren YangYang was the youngest and had a more boyish aura about him while his tattoo was displayed over where his heart would be.

“Hendery has told me how you took him in,” said Brittany as she sat up a little straighter.

“We were all very young,” Ten explained. “YangYang was almost one and Kun was five. When we were all swimming around the Gulf of Mexico one day, we saw a tiny, two year old merboy so weak and crying.”

“So, you raised him when you guys were basically children?”

“Sirens’ brains age differently from humans and merfolk,” WinWin added. “However, we still lived with another mermaid who cared for us until Kun was fourteen.”

“Once Hendery turned eighteen, he ventured off around the world,” the merman finished. “He settled in Florida, because his friends lived there.”

“And that’s where he found you, Brittany,” Kun finished.

The sirens continued telling their stories about adventures with Hendery and updating their friend on what they were doing in the ocean. Each of them were extremely kind and didn’t hesitate to help others in need, even going to war to protect a race of sea nymphs in the Mediterranean. Yet, whenever Brittany asked what makes Hendery different from the other merfolk, they just gave her the same answer her lover did: sharp teeth with an appetite for only raw fish.

“I mean, who were his parents?” she asks.

“Well, we know for a fact his father is the king of a mermaid city off this coast,” Ten answered. “We found that out about a year after we took him in. The king was infamous for sleeping with other creatures before he crowned a mermaid his queen. So far, Hendery was the only result of his affairs. We’re not quite sure who his mother was.”

Brittany examined Hendery as he chomped on a flounder YangYang had caught for him, fish blood trickling down a little bit.

“He could be only half-merfolk,” she concluded.

“That’s what we have thought as well,” Kun agreed. “But we never brought it up as to not make him feel that he wasn’t worth anything by being different.”

“He is different” -she looked at her lover once more- “but special.”

His cheeks blushed as he wiped his mouth.

Louis returned to the small gathering, and he immediately wanted some of Hendery’s snack. The merman happily tore off a piece and fed it to him.

“So, are you guys mates yet?” YangYang asked as he tried to reach out and pet the cat.

Brittany was confused. “In what sense?”

Kun thumped the youngests forehead. “You can’t just ask couples stuff like that.”

“Sorry,” the youngest yelped. “I just noticed she doesn’t have a mark yet, and I was curious.”

“Brittany and Hendery are lovers,” Lucas added. “There’s a difference.”

His comment is what switched on the lightbulb in Brittany’s brain.

“Wait, mates?” she repeated. “As in, have we...done the deed? And what’s a mark have to do with anything?”

Kun explained everything to Brittany. For merfolk, the mate’s mark was given to females in the space between the neck and the shoulder, and the male would have an imprint of the wound in the exact spot on his skin. In a sense, it was like a marriage ritual between the two beings who truly loved each other.

“But as you have guessed,” the eldest siren finished, “it’s done during intimacy.”

Brittany nodded. Hendery held her hand and kissed it. He knew sooner or later they would have to follow through with the ritual, but he respected his lover enough to go forward with it if she was ready.

“I apologize if I said anything out of turn,” YangYang piped up. “I say things without thinking sometimes.”

“You’re fine,” she reassured him.

WinWin glanced behind him towards another end of the beach. “We have to go,” he informed.

Kun nodded. “We’ll hang out again, soon,” he promised. “YangYang put the cat down.”

WIth a finish trick splash, the six sirens swam off to whatever task they had been called to do, and Louis shook himself dry.

-

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[lochrannn]

AU_gust: Knife Edge of a Petal

Read on AO3

prompt no 21: Soulmates

Relationships: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

Characters: Lila Pitts, Diego Hargreeves

-

The phone in the hall rings and Lila scrambles out of the bath, forgoes wrapping a towel around herself, and jogs to try and make it before whoever's on the other end hangs up.

“Hello?” she says, barely having got the receiver to her ear properly.

“Hey Lila,” Diego's voice comes in slightly tinny, but she's used to that at this point, the phone system back at the mansion seems to have been put in in the nineteen twenties, and despite all of his inventory prowess and wealth, Reginald Hargreeves apparently never bothered to update it, “you around this evening? I need to talk to you.”

There's something in his voice that puts Lila a little on edge and never before has he announced ahead of time that he needs to talk about something. If anything ever bothers him, he stews for a while before it just bursts out of him, whether the moment is opportune or not, they have an argument, and then they settle things. It's not a perfect system, but it's their system and it works.

Lila tries not to let any of her sudden unease reflect in her voice when she says, “yeah sure, d'you want to come over? I've nothing on.”

“Uh... k... uhm, Klaus asked me to give him a lift somewhere, I guess I'll be with you in an hour,” comes Diego's slightly hesitant response.

Why is she getting the feeling that he was hoping she'd say no?

“Alright, see you in a bit.” Again, she tries to sound as upbeat as possible and waits to let go of her sigh only once she's hung the handset back on the wall mount.

Lila goes back to her bathroom, doesn't bother to get into the cooling water again, instead dries off, and then tries hard to find anything to occupy her thoughts with to stop herself from fretting before Diego arrives.

When she buzzes him up and he comes in fifty minutes later, there's an unmistakable tension in the air between them, his expression is more serious than she's seen in a long while, and any success Lila has had calming her nerves flies straight out of the window.

Almost more to reassure herself and to make things feel normal, Lila puts her hand on Diego's shoulder, gets up on tip toes and presses her lips to his.

For a second he hardly responds and Lila worries that he's going to pull away, but then he cups her face with both hands and kisses her back, not deeply, but there's still something intense about it, almost like it's the last time he's got the chance, and that thought more than anything else makes Lila's heart plummet into her stomach and she has to blink hard to suppress tears she doesn't understand the cause of.

In the end it's her that breaks the kiss and Diego's hands fall away from her face and limply to his side.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” she asks, tentatively. On the one hand she's absolutely certain she doesn't want to have this conversation, but then there's also really no point in prolonging whatever ending is coming her way.

“Can we sit?” Diego asks, not quite meeting her eyes, and so Lila leads the way over to her living room.

She sits down on the sofa, expecting Diego to sit with her the way he always does, but instead he moves to the armchair that's positioned perpendicularly to her, not much further away than if he'd sat on the sofa, actually, but it puts upholstery as well as a bit of space between them.

Lila is about to break the silence that's stretching out in that space, but Diego begins talking before she gets the chance and rushes out, “Lila, whatever I've got to tell you, I need you to know that I love you, ok! You know that, right?”

She laughs nervously. “That's really not as reassuring a statement as you seem to think,” she says, but when Diego looks at her, desperation on his face, opens his mouth a couple of times as if he's trying to say something but the words won't come out, her heart breaks a little for him and she says, “but yeah. Yes, I know! I love you too!”

Diego's gaze drops to his clasped hands at that, as if she slapped him, and where she was uncertain before, Lila is now downright nervous and confused.

Again, just before she can ask him what's going on, Diego holds out his wrist to her and explains, “I noticed this this morning. I don't know when it appeared, maybe some time yesterday, but...” he trails off as Lila takes his hand to inspect his wrist more closely.

Under the umbrella tattoo on Diego's left wrist, there is now a mark, darker than the rest of his skin that she can't quite make out the shape of but if she had to guess, it looks like a flower with four petals and what she thinks might be the shape of a knife blade sticking out either side of it.

Really, the tattoo makes it hard to fully recognise and Lila remembers that Diego told her once he suspected that Hargreeves had all the siblings tattooed in that spot deliberately, maybe hoping that they would never discover their soulmarks and therefore not get distracted from their mission by tedious things like love and companionship.

Lila swallows hard and swipes her thumb over the mark and then something clenches in her chest, so she lets go and sits back to lean against the sofa.

Diego instantly leans forward towards her, as if now he can't stand the space between them.

“Hey, Lila, we talked about this. We knew this could happen, this doesn't change anything!”

“It kinda does, though,” Lila says resignedly. She wants to lash out, wants to be angry, with Diego, the fucking universe, whatever, but she just doesn't have the energy.

Yeah, they'd talked about this. Yeah, they'd known this could happen, but it is one thing to be with someone who isn't your soulmate, it is a whole other kettle of fish to be with someone who isn't your soulmate when one of you has apparently recently run into theirs. It almost never works out after that.

“Who do you think it is?” Lila asks almost a bit curiously.

“Fuck, Lila, I don't care!” Diego bursts out and he reaches for her hand and Lila doesn't have the heart to pull it away, even though right now she doesn't find much comfort in his touch, “and you know as well as I do it could be anyone. Christ, you were the one who explained to us that time travel fucks with the soulmarks. For all we know they're back in the sixties, never to bother me for the rest of our lives. What's the point in thinking about this?”

There's frustration in his voice now and Lila hurts with him. God, she loves him so much and things were great between them. Why can't they have one good thing? Why has the universe decided to punish them by disturbing the peace they've managed to carve out for themselves?

She entwines her fingers with his, nods decisively and then pulls their hands up to her lips so she can kiss his knuckles.

“You're right! I'm just... sorry, this just came as a bit of a surprise.” She looks up into his eyes and swallows hard again at the tentative hope she finds there.

-

For the next two weeks things go back to normal.

Almost.

They go out together, hang out together, have sex, go to sleep together, but there's this underlying sadness in Lila now. She tries to hide it from Diego as best she can, but most nights, after they've fallen asleep entangled in each other's limbs, she'll wake up at some point, only able to think of this nameless, faceless person who he rightfully belongs to, who she's preventing Diego from being happy with, and all she can do is extricate herself from the comfort of his arms and move to the other edge of the bed, so he won't notice her heaving breaths when she tries to suppress her sobs and tears.

Diego will leave her alone for the rest of the night and doesn't comment on it in the morning, but she sees the hurt in his eyes when they wake up at the same time and she flees from the bed as fast as she can.

That's why it surprises her when she wakes up one morning, surrounded by warmth, feeling more comfortable and safe than she has in weeks even though she knows she scooted over to her cold edge to be on her own some hours ago.

Her back is pressed up against Diego's chest and he is carding his fingers through her hair, whispering softly in her ear, “Lila, wake up.”

She opens her eyes to fully orientate herself and works out that Diego must be sitting up against the headboard and has pulled her into his lap so he could wrap both his arms around her.

Lila's body betrays her, because instead of squirming away, which she thinks she should be doing, she grabs hold of his arms so he won't let go and turns her head so she can lean her forehead against his jaw.

She closes her eyes against the tears that are threatening to form again, but she's managed so far not to cry about this, at least not with Diego conscious, she can continue holding it together for as long as possible.

She swallows hard again and says past the lump in her throat, “What's going on?”

Diego pulls one of his arms away, despite her grip on it, but he takes her wrist in his hand in turn and says, “Look,” so gently that she barely hears him, but she feels the vibration of his deep voice in her own ribs.

Lila opens her eyes again and looks down at where Diego is caressing her pulse with his thumb and she almost gasps.

On the inside of the wrist of her left arm she sees a mark that wasn't there last night, darker than the skin surrounding it, in the shape of a flower with four petals and what looks like the blade of a knife sticking out either side.

She'd know it's identical to Diego's mark anyway, but for good measure, he puts his own left wrist right next to it and even the slight distortion from the umbrella tattoo does nothing to cast any doubt.

Lila swipes two fingers over Diego's wrist and drags them over to her own, almost as if to make sure that both marks are real.

Then she turns back into him, kisses his jaw while Diego's arms tighten around her.

“Alright then,” she says, before fully relaxing into his embrace.