#❝ AIN’T NO GRAVE CAN HOLD MY BODY DOWN ( IC. ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

retrogalwrites · 3 years

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ex boyfriend!Touya x reader

Title: “ Fool me once, then again and again “ / view on ao3

Pairing: Touya x f! reader

Summary: You are dating Natsuo Todoroki, and you finally get to meet his family, everything was going well. Until you realize you have already met his older brother Touya before.

Warnings: dubcon, slight yandere, manipulation, gaslighting, blackmail, cheating, cuckolding, corruption, mindbreak of sorts, toxic ex boyfriend relationship

Other contents: creampie, rough sex, tit slapping, sub/dom, masochism

words: 6,826

For the longest time, you had believed that those stories of people finding true love were nothing but total bullshit.

After all, in a sea of hookups, uncommitted relationships and one night stands, it was almost laughable to think that anyone out there was going to somehow be the one and only. You went through college with nothing but bad relationships and heartbreak under your belt, things you would've rather left forgotten. By the time you had graduated, you managed to land a job, and were happy living on your own, there were no expectations from you towards love, not at all.

Until you met Natsuo Todoroki.

It was an unexpected meeting, much like out of those same cheesy romantic movies that you had always mocked. You two bumped into each other at a coffee shop, a guy that you had never seen before who spilled his coffee all over you, awkwardly apologized a hundred times, invited you to watch a movie, and the rest was history. You always teased him over it too, how his clumsiness somehow helped him to get a girlfriend. Watching him go all red in the face never failed to make you laugh.

Natsuo was the most wonderful boyfriend you could've asked for, easily topping any other relationship you had in the past. Despite being the son of a hero, and not just any hero but the number one hero of the country, Natsuo was humble and friendly, just living like an average guy and working hard as a nurse at the nearby hospital. Someone that you wouldn't even think had a family with the sort of money and influence the Todorokis were known for.

He also was always so sweet and gentle, funny too, a lovable big guy that treated you with so much care. Even during sex, he only ever made the most tender love to you, like you were a precious thing, a treasure that could break if he was too rough.

And you loved it, truly, you loved him, knew he felt very much the same too. Because he gathered the courage to introduce you to his family officially.

You two arrived at the Todoroki state on a cold Friday evening, just in time for dinner. There you were going to meet everyone and stay for the weekend.

His father, the number one hero Endeavor, was much like what he looked like on television. Big, rough and intimidating, but treated you with good manners. Then his mother, Rei, a soft-spoken woman that welcomed you kindly, she was friendly much like her son. Things seemed tense between them underneath the surface, expectedly so, since you knew from Natsuo that they were going through a divorce. It made their attempts at cohabitation just to make you feel comfortable at least appreciated.

His big sister, Fuyumi, was much like him too, sweet and gentle, a nice girl that made you feel right away at home, so excited to finally meet you. Then last but not least was his little brother, Shouto, a quiet but nice boy who tried his best to do small talk when he had to. You could tell that he at least was welcoming of you, which was good enough.

It was awkward at first, you were nervous to be dealing with them at first but you had managed entire thing just fine so far, much to your relief, as well as Natsuo's.

However, the last relative in the household had yet to arrive, the eldest sibling, and Natsuo's older, Touya. Apparently it was nothing out of the ordinary for him to be so unfashionably late, and dinner would not be put on hold just because he couldn't bother to show up on time, as Endeavor had put it. Even Natsuo seemed to reluctantly agree with his father on that regard.

Natsuo had told you before, about his brother's unruly behavior and a bit on an intense attitude, calling him a hellraiser. He had been only a bit worried that if you met him, you'd be slightly put off. Naturally you assured him it would be fine.

But it was only when you saw the guy that you understood just what a grave mistake you had made.

Only then that you realized that all the cheesy romance, all that stuff from the movies, really came with a price.

Right there, waltzing into the dinning room without a single care in the world, long strides and hands inside his pockets. The raven dyed hair, the piercings, the tattoos, even the smell of smoke and cinders filling your nostrils, it was all familiar, too familiar.

It was your ex boyfriend, Dabi.

Blue eyes fixated on your face almost instantly, stared and burned a hole right through your soul. A knowing look on his features, lips curling into a crooked grin, sardonic and throughly amused, a glint of joy in a face you had hoped to never see again.

"Well, well, well! So this is the girlfriend? Now I see why our little Natsu is so smitten."

Touya drawled, slowly like savoring every syllable, a type of teasing that tasted deliciously on his tongue. Just the sound of his voice,so low and raspy from the cigarettes you knew he always smoked, was making your heart race with anxiety and anger.

Touya took his seat at the dinning table. He deliberately took the chair in front of you just to watch you, of course he would, you had almost expected him to. Eyes still fixated on you, he plopped his elbows on the table and leaned on the surface, and you were so grateful for the table keeping him from getting any closer.

"Where did you even find this hottie, bro? I may just go there and get one of my own."

Heat rose to your cheeks, burning and painting your skin red with something like indignation, but to the others probably seemed just like shy demure. Yet in contrast to your body's temperature, on the inside it was like the blood in your veins had turned into ice, a violent shiver running down your spine that felt like high voltage, you gripped your thighs with both hands just to keep yourself from shaking.

"Touya don't be rude..." Fuyumi grimaced, sighing. This behavior clearly was nothing new to them, it seemed, but it was nothing new to you either.

"This is [Name], be nice." Rei joined the attempt to get the male to behave, probably for your sake.

In reality, you wished they wouldn't be trying to intervene, but you couldn't blame them either for not knowing something you desperately didn't want any of them to know.

Specially not Natsuo.

But you couldn't just get up and run, Touya knew you were trapped.

"Oh? Well, ain't that a pretty name? You probably already know who I am though, right?"

It was so cruelly calculated, every word spoken, a man already set out to make sure you squirmed in your seat.

"I'm Natsuo's big brother, I bet he talks about me all the time! This lil guy sure loves me."

"Oh please, I only told her how annoying you can be." Natsuo scoffed, rolling his eyes with the unconcerned, even if embarrassed, nature of someone who had no idea what was happening beneath the surface.

"But really, I'm proud of our little bro for scoring this high, y'know what I mean, Natsu?"

You looked down, unable to meet his gaze any longer.

"K-Knock it off, Touya." Natsuo grabbed your hand from underneath the table, and you almost jumped from the sudden contact, almost expecting to be burned. But it was cold, your beloved Natsuo's cool touch, and when you turned to look at him, he smiled at you with a gentle, apologetical smile. Probably thinking his brother's banter had caused you to feel uncomfortable. And while it was the right thought, he really had no idea.

Still, his touch grounded you back from the anxious dread that had been growing in your mind so quickly, and you felt like smiling back at him.

You loved Natsuo, you really did.

Suddenly a hand was extended towards you, and it took all of your will power not to flinch. Your attention cruelly ripped away from your boyfriend to stare at Touya's hand, waiting for a handshake.

The dread had returned, you didn't even realize you were staring.

"Sorry, sorry, let's keep the brother talk for later, m'kay?" He smirked at Natsuo, then turned at you to add, hand still out waiting for you to take it, he knew you had to take it.

"It's nice to meet you, [Name]."

You felt everyone's eyes on you, watching you, and resignation was your only answer. Cautiously, you were reaching out to him, held his hand in a hesitant hold.

The moment his rough skin brushed against yours, you felt it, again. A wave of heat spreading through your body like wildfire, just like you remembered from years past, that warm sensation tingling at your nerves, filling your lungs, the pit of your stomach.

It was nothing like Natsuo's cold touch, it was hot, burning, scorching.

"Um, yes. N-Nice to meet you too." You let go of him immediately, stumbling over your words and trying not to glare.

"Yep, really nice to meet my new sister in law."

"That's enough, Touya." The stern, booming voice of Endeavor silenced everyone at the table, specially the eldest son. "We are having dinner right now, have the decency to behave."

Endeavor could be quite scary, but you were much grateful for the intervention. Unlike Touya, of course, who immediately had tensed up, gritted his teeth with brows furrowed into a sour expression for a second, before that carefree look was back on his face, it was so quickly that you wondered if you had imagined it.

"Wait, are they getting married already?" Shouto quipped all of the sudden with genuine confusion, endearingly so.

Almost everyone seemed to be amused by the comment, even Touya, and some teasing looks were thrown at Natsuo, who had turned beet red from the embarrassment.

You found yourself a little embarrassed too, in a much lighter hearted way and that was a welcome change, it almost made you forget that feeling of someone's piercing blue eyes staring at you.

——————

Natsuo would touch your hand or your knee all through the night, smiling at you and gazing at your face with those loving eyes that could melt your heart. And yet, Touya made sure that your attention wasn't taken off him for long. Trying to rope you in conversation that held cruel double meaning, kept only pushing your buttons with sadistic glee.

You had to take a break, urgently, so you excused yourself with the pretenses of going to the bathroom.

You got up from your seat and rushed out the dinning room and into the hallways, not even really noticing that Natsuo had asked if you needed someone to show you were the bathroom was located.

You needed a moment alone to gather your thoughts, get your shit together. So you walked further into the huge Todoroki residence, looking for the nearest bathroom, though finding it was really not all that important in the end. As long as you were away from Touya for a bit, you would be fine.

Touya. A name foreign on your tongue, unlike Dabi. It upset you, and that on itself upset you even more, not only to know what an idiot you had been so many years ago, but that you still cared. But, could you be blamed? Could you be judged? When this jerk had to show up now, of all times, and——

"Hey baby, bathroom is the other way."

You stopped on your tracks, freezing on the spot. Your mouth felt dry and your hands balled into fists. That dreaded voice's hot breath feeling like it was tickling the shell of your ear, but you reacted only when you felt the brush of his warm hand placing itself on your shoulder.

Practically jumping away, you removed yourself from his touch, turning around to face that same amused grin you wished to smack off his face. That same grin that used to give your butterflies.

"Why did you follow me?" You spoke with a voice full of annoyance, bolder and direct, now that the rest of the family was out of earshot, you could at least give yourself the indulgence of expressing your feelings.

"Leave me alone, just...leave me alone, would you?"

Touya laughed. Of course he laughed. You didn't know what else you had expected. He had always done the same thing, laugh at your distress and mock you for it.

"Woah, now! Calm down, this is my house, are you trying to kick me out my own house?"

He jokingly raised his hands, didn't bother to hide his amusement, a broad smile that stretched from ear to ear. You only sighed with exasperation.

"You know that's not what I mean. God, you're still such an asshole."

You shook your head, but he simply shrugged dispassionately, dismissively. You hadn't even taken notice of your clenched fists, knuckles had begun to turn white, anger bubbling inside you just like it used to back in the day.

"Dunno what you got against me, I mean you're the one that came here willingly, remember? No one told you to go date my brother." You could've sworn he almost sounded resentful, but he had no right to be.

"I didn't know. I mean, how could I have? You clearly never told me your actual name Dabi, oh I'm sorry, I mean Touya." He never really told you anything substancial about himself in hindsight, and you felt like an even bigger fool, for having overlooked that along every other glaring red flag he carried around. Your own conflicted feelings made you miss the way something in his blue eyes flickered, tongue running over his lower lip.

"Well, it wasn't a big deal. It's not like it mattered, did it? We had a lot of fun anyway." He chuckled lowly, openly leering at you and making you blush from anger.

"Fun? Seriously, you call that fun?!" You laughed in disbelief, a bitter sound. "After all the crap you put me through, you just ended up dumping me. No, fuck your fun."

His expression turned dark then, a shadow over his eyes that had narrowed just slightly. His amusement had become annoyance.

"The crap I put you through? I don't recall you ever complaining when you begged for my cock like a damn college whore."

"That's not—!!"

"What, not true? Oh but I remember it very well. You'd always be so needy for my cock, letting me fuck you just whenever I wanted, heh, wherever I wanted too. Like a dumb bitch in heat. Come on, we both were on it for the sex more than anything. Now you're acting all high and mighty? Shit ain't cute babe."

It was like a punch in the gut that sucked all the air out of you, it rendered you speechless for a moment, shame and anger inside of you making your body shake. Had it really been like that? No, you did all those things because you were a stupid girl in love back then.

It was exhausting suddenly having to explain yourself to yourself, you didn't have the mental strength for it. You brought your fingers to pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing wearily. It was foolish of you to shut your eyes for even second however, just trying to gather your jumbled thoughts like that, because Touya took it as an invitation to close the distance between the two.

A sudden, familiar feeling of warmth enveloped your body, his arms circling around your waist and pulling you against his broad chest. But it was not a gentle touch, he was squeezing you in his hold to make sure he had you caged. You gasped, every muscle in your body tensing up like a frightened prey in a wolf's grasp. Your body felt hot.

"You're so cold, sugartits. Are you seriously not happy to see me? Not one bit?"

He spoke so softly all of sudden, you knew he was trying to appease you. He rested his chin on the crown of your head as he held you, one of his hands taking purchase of your hair, pulling at it just enough that you felt a slight sting in your scalp. Your lips parted slightly, a moan almost attempting to escape.

"Let me go, and don't call me that." You tried wiggling out of his hold, to push him off you, but he only tightened his grip.

"Call you what? Sugartits? Aww, but you used to love it."

Purring like a cat, you felt the smell of cigarettes and cinders invading your nostrils, bringing back vivid memories of the many times he used you hold you down to smooth-talk his way out of trouble, hold you down and fuck you senseless until you forgot whatever it was that you were mad about.

The thought alone frightened you to the bone, the realization of the sort of memories Touya was pulling out of you so effortlessly. The heat enveloping your body felt like it was burning you, threatening to cremate you with his quirk. It was nothing like Natsuo's cold touch and you hated it.

You couldn't let him keep holding you like that, it was wrong, it was dangerous, and gathering all your strength, you placed your hands on his chest to get him off. It didn't work, he only laughed at your attempt.

"Come on, do you really hate me that much? I just want to talk, honest. Don't you want to talk this out?" Looking up at him, the expression you saw was serious, soft, something you had only seen back when you were with him a few times. Touya was dangling the hope for closure above your head like a dog's treat, and you took the bait.

"What is there to talk about? You dumped me after fucking me for months, just to chase more tail." You a soft murmur from your lips, resignation. You felt his chest heave with a satisfied huff.

"Well yeah, but I tried to call you, you changed your number."

"Because I knew you just wanted to hook up."

"Well, you got me there." He chuckled, completely unashamed and it didn't even begin to surprise you.

"I did really like you back then, you know? And you broke my fucking heart." It was useless to tell him that, and yet you did.

"I liked you too, but you know that I'm a bastard baby, it's just my nature."

You frowned, there was no comfort in his words or even a sense of guilt from him, just the factual reality of things. You had been an idiot for getting involved with him, but it wasn't like you hadn't known that from the start. It still upset you, but the more you thought about it, the more you felt it was necessary to just let it be if you ever hoped to survive the night.

"I don't care what you do, in fact I'd rather we both forget anything ever happened. Just...don't ruin this for me." The plea in your voice was genuine, a heartfelt request, lowered lashes as you looked down before biting your lip. "Don't tell Natsuo about this, please. That's all I ask."

Touya went stiff against you, a hum purring at the back of his throat almost as if he had found your words no short of fascinating. You looked upwards to meet his gaze, he seemed pensive, while your expression was surprised.

"You really love him, huh? Lucky him, to think that used to be me." He chuckled, rolling his shoulders with a sense of light-hearted acceptance, the amusement had returned to that lazy grin. "I wasn't planning on ruining anything for my lil' bro, give me some credit. I just couldn't help teasing you a bit."

Admittedly you hadn't thought of it that way, that maybe even if Touya had no loyalty towards you, for his family he held enough of it to avoid crossing a line like that. It almost made you feel ashamed of yourself, how conceited it probably looked that you had assumed Touya really would care about fucking with you over his sibling's happiness.

For the first time that night, you felt hopeful, a sigh of relief that left your lips carried away all the weight you had on your shoulders.

"Well, then...thank you." A truthful feeling of gratitude. You even forced yourself to subtly smile at Touya, and you though for a second that his eyes softened at the sight. But then he just waved his hand at you dismissively.

"By the way, I wasn't joking earlier. The bathroom is that door over there. If you still want to use it."

You had almost forgotten about that, and while you had no need to go, part of you still needed some time alone to take in all that had happened in just one night so far.

There was slight hesitation, a feeling in your gut that told you not to. And you ignored it, like you ignored all the red flags in the past.

Nodding at Touya, you turned around and headed for the bathroom, but he called out to you again immediately.

"Wait, let me help you open it, that one door always gets stuck." Not even waiting for an answer he fumbled with the knob for a bit before it opened, Touya stepped to the side to let you in.

And then, just as you were crossing the doorframe, muttering a soft 'thanks', you were pushed inside the room by two large hands.

You yelped, stumbling over your feet and tripping onto a soft surface. The moonlight filtered through a narrow window enough to letting you see that you were not in a bathroom at all, but instead in what seemed to be a bedroom, may a guest room? You had no idea. The soft surface under your knees was definitely a futon at least. Confused and panicking you turned around to try getting up and rush out that room, just in time to see Touya walking in, closing the door and locking it behind him.

You felt the room's temperature go up.

"T-Touya? Touya!" You spoke once in confusion, then in anger. He tricked you, and you fell for it like and idiot, all over again. "Fuck you, I knew you were trying to pull something like this."

"You are really funny, sugartits. Seriously." Slowly, in long strides, he approached you. Completely ignoring your protests. "Saying that you love Natsuo with that innocent look on your face, really? What a comedian."

"What are you—?!"

Getting on his knees in from if you, Touya grabbed you by the jaw, squeezing your cheeks and roughly forcing you to look at him in the eye. That bruising touch you knew so well, it made your chest start tightening and face to burn red.

Looking at Touya in that dim light made you shiver, he had an horrifyingly wide smile, baring his teeth. You could feel the steam coming out of his nostrils, and for a moment you were afraid he'd actually set the place on fire.

"Do you think you can just go saying shit like that when I know just what a slut you are for my cock?"

He laughed mockingly, and yet the condescending tone dropping off his words made you realize it was an statement full of endearment.

"No, I'm not!" You struggled to pull away from him, clawing at his hand around your jaw, but he was just much stronger than you, always had been. "That was a long time ago, I was stupid. That wasn't real, what I have with Natsuo is real."

"So you say." Rolling his eyes, he scoffed. Touya brought his lips to your forehead, giving you a chaste kiss, the softness of his lips and the cold metal of his lip piercings was something you wished to have forgotten, a whine almost left your lips. "But I know you missed me."

"I did not. Let me go!"

"You're so cruel, sugartits. 'Cause, I did miss you lots, y'know?"

It shouldn't have, it really shouldn't, but that statement made you pause, freeze on the spot and look at him confused and surprised. A meek 'what?' came from your lips. Touya took advantage of your momentary lack of resistance to roughly push you backwards with enough force that you were falling onto your back over the futon.

"I'll tell you the truth, even after I kept fucking bitches for a while after our 'break up', I realized that none of them really compared to you." He explained slowly, drawling each word with a raspy voice, your heart beating loudly in your ways almost drowned the sound.

"Turns out no other pussy felt like yours, so good and tight, god...best one I've ever had. Oh, and no one else was quite as much of a whore either to be honest, I mean shit, we used to get all down and dirty, remember?"

He pulled out his phone out of his pocket, and started to browse through it. You should've taken that chance to try escape, or at least kick his stupid face, but your body wasn't moving. The shock of what he was saying, petrified you, as did what you imagined he was doing.

"But you disappeared. So I've only had these to jerk off now and then, trying to imagine your nice pussy around my cock." He showed you the screen of his phone, and it was what you had been fearing the most.

Pictures of you, old pictures that Touya had taken years ago during sex. There were many, too many, you felt the world collapsing around you, as if you hadn't been already laying down, you would've collapsed with it for sure.

"Never thought I would see you again, imagine my surprise when Natsuo just came home with my favorite cumdumpster as girlfriend."

"I'm not yours!!"

You refuted passionately, he could insult you all he wanted, call you all sort of names, but you were not going to let him claim you as his belonging.

You were Natsuo's, no one else's, you told Touya, you told yourself.

You were trying to get back up, but Touya was already crawling above you and shoving the screen of his phone in your face, showing off those lewd pictures of yourself.

Pictures of you doing all sort of nasty sexual things with Touya.

"I wonder if my lil' bro would be thinking the same as you if he saw these though. I mean, you two love eachother right? I guess he probably won't mind..."

"Alright I get it, what do you want from me?"

That quick temper of yours made him huff a laugh, something like fondness in it. Well, you weren't so stupid as to not realize what was happening, what was Touya getting at. Swallowing the lump in your throat you tried to keep yourself from shaking, but having Touya above you like that was leaving you short of breath, heart hammering in your chest.

"Let me fuck you." He said so casually, putting the phone back into his pocket without even breaking eye contact. "Here and now, let me fuck you real good one last time."

You breathed through your nostrils, slowly, taking in the situation you were in. Taking in his outrageous words that gave you chills.

"You can't be serious..."

"I am very serious, sugartits. I just wanna bury myself inside your pussy, for old times' sake. C'mon, you don't even care about my cock anymore, right? It shouldn't change anything to give me one last pity-fuck."

It was surreal, ridiculous, atrocious, the entire thing. Yet, what other option did you have? Even if you screamed for help, it would mean Natsuo would find out about this, find you like this. You parted your lips to ask hesitantly.

"Only once...no more than that, right? And then you delete those pictures, promise me. Dammit, promise me Touya!!"

"Yeah, yeah, geez. I promise, just once, and these pictures will be gone forever." He spoke seriously, a longing look in his eyes behind the cockiness. "So, whaddaya say?"

"Alright."

Those were the words that would seal the deal, and Touya didn't really need any more than that to get started. You felt his lips coming down to attack you with urgency, planting an open mouthed kiss on your shoulder while he nuzzled his nose into the juncture of your neck, inhaling your scent in a big indulgent sniff.

"Fuck, you still using that shampoo with the vanilla? Mmm, it was my favorite." He purred loudly, a satisfied grin and hot breath against your skin.

You gasped, unable to keep yourself from reacting to the stimulation, your body remembering it all over again, squirming underneath his frame as he pinned you down. That sound you made had his cock twitching inside his pants, member already growing hard and throbbing with rushing blood. He made sure to let you know by rutting himself against your clothed pussy, his hardness big enough to poke at your entrance through the layers of clothing. You bit your lips, so hard you could've drawn blood, just too keep yourself from moaning at the friction, your pussy already becoming slick and dampening your panties.

Then he was pulling back, earning a confused sound out of you, which then turned to a cry when a large hand crept up to the top of your dress, pulling it down to free your breasts and let them bounce bare for him. You tried to cover yourself on instinct, but Touya caught both of your wrists and held them down.

"God, I had missed these two. Now I remember why I started calling you sugartits." He chuckled lowly, one hand letting go of your wrist just to grope one of your breasts.

Fingers roughly sinking into the soft flesh before he drew his hand back, and slapped your breast, hard. It made a dry sound only matched by the cry you tried to muffle with your free hand. It stung, it hurt, you could swear that it burned. Then he slapped the other breasts as well, flesh jiggling as the skin turned red and raw, nipples become hard and stiff.

"Fuck, Touya...!!" You hissed through gritted teeth, and he only laughed. "D-Don't do that so suddenly."

"What? You used to love that, don't tell me you and Natsu don't do shit like this?" Of course you didn't. It was so different that being with Natsuo, the heat, the roughness, it was nothing like when he gently made love to you. This was not what you wanted, not anymore, and yet...you felt that familiar arousal in your gut, the tingly sensation in your core as more slickness dripped from your folds.

Touya was soon leaning over one of your tender breasts, mouth latching to the nipple and teeth scrapping the pebbled skin around the puffy areolae, his tongue lapping around the nipple, you could feel his tongue-piercing against the skin. He hollowed his cheeks as he sucked with fervor into his greedy mouth, drool and spit coating your chest.

"Hey wait!! Don't leave marks, don't leave m—oooh!!" He growled against your breast and you felt his teeth bitting at the flesh, your toes curled and you threw your head back with a pitiful whine. That definitely was going to leave a mark, he did it on purpose.

Just like he purposely lifted the hem of your dress and ripped your panties off you like a savage. You hated the memories it brought, of the countless pairs of panties you had lost this way when you were with him, Natsuo never did things like this.

Natsuo was not like this, he was gentle and sweet and—

The abrupt feeling of two fingers breaching through your outer pussy lips and into the heat of your core had your back arching, eyes wide open and tears pricking your eyes because the sudden intrusion. Dabi's long digits slid inside of your pulsating walls, the slippery flesh wrapping around them as you involuntarily clamped down. You moaned, barely muffling the sound using now both of your hands to cover your mouth in a desperate attempt to stop making noises.

"Fuck, baby you are still tight as shit." He spoke with his mouth still muffled against your breast, you could feel the shit-eating grin on his face. "I thought I'd have to prepare you a little more, but you are nice and wet, ready for my cock."

No, you weren't ready. You didn't want to be ready, you were doing this for you and Natsuo, and that was it. Shaking your head, Touya only snickered mockingly, as if he knew better, but he didn't. He absolutely didn't, whatever you two had was in the past, and you didn't want to be fucked by any other man than your boyfriend!!

"Just make it quick, please..."

"That depends on how good you squeeze me, baby."

Touya pulled back, hands unbuckling his belts and pulling down his pants. Your eyes almost bulging out of your head at the sight of his hard cock as it sprung free, bobbing against his abdomen with a pearly dollop of precum dribbling from the supple head, his shaft was as long and thick as you remembered, a pulsating vein on the underside that went from the head to the bushy white hair at his base.

You hated yourself for moaning at the sight, for being so weak. Touya somehow didn't make fun on you for that, he was too busy grabbing your ankles and pulling you down towards him, his own eyes fixated on the sight of your soaked pussy. The look of his eyes was ravenous and absolutely enthralled, his breath had quickened as he stared at the pretty slick flesh, bringing his cock to your puffy pussy lips, sandwiching his it in between them and sliding himself up and down, coating himself in your wetness.

It was driving you crazy with need, a maddening need that was awakening after years. And something you hated yourself for, feeling that fire in your loins in a way you never felt with Natsuo. You hated yourself for wanting to be fucked the way Touya used to fuck you.

"Oh, baby. I'm not even inside and you're already squirming." He grinned down at you, watching you through half-lidded eyes burning with lust.

"Shut up! Please just...just...ohh."

You didn't know what were you were begging for, but it didn't matter when you felt the tip of his cock positioned at your entrance, before the feeling of him entering you slowly, he wanted your every muscle to feel every part of him. A violent wave of pleasure rocked your body, Touya's cock stretched your walls like no one else could, even after years it was like your pussy had never forgotten the feeling and shape of him, welcoming him into your heat and betraying your need to cling to your convictions.

"Holy shit, oh fuck...this is what I was talking about. Best pussy I've ever had." You heard him pant and moan above you, his mouth gasping for air with eyes shut, like he was savoring the best feeling in the entire world. Your fleshy walls were sucking him in like crazy, he shuddered grabbing you by the hips with his large hands. "Hnng, so tight, fuck...it's like you're trying to rip my dick off. You sure Natsuo's been fucking you enough? Can't believe you're still so tight."

"S-Shut up!! Don't...bring him up now...please."

You couldn't stop wishing that Touya would just start moving already, fuck you already, in your heart you apologized to Natsuo over and over, you were doing it for your sakes, you were doing it for him.

"You are right, let's forget about him. Right now, this pussy belongs to me."

Touya pulled out his length until only the head was nudging at your heat, before he slammed his entire cock back in until he was balls deep inside, filling you up entirely. The head of his cock could almost hit the entrance of your cervix, god he was so big, it was different than Natsuo, he reached deeper than anyone you had ever had, you felt absolutely stuffed.

Gasping for air, you clung to his shoulders, trying to remember how to breath. But Touya didn't give you any chance to adjust before he began thrusting himself in and out your pussy, scrapping your walls with his cock following a brutal, bruising pace that had you pinned down against the futon as Touya jackhammered himself into you.

"T-Touya, fuck, fuck." It hurt, it really fucking hurt, and yet your body was craving that pain and heat you had been deprived from for so long, and you hated yourself so much for it, tears started to run down your cheeks.

Touya watched you with furrowed brows, licking his lips at the erotic sight of your bruised tits bouncing like crazy, but it wasn't until he noticed your tears that he felt himself swelling up inside you, cock harder than ever before. He leaned over you, face inches away from yours with his tongue out. He lapped at your salty tears, groaning in pleasure.

"Dabi, call me Dabi...for old times sake...oh fuck" He whispered against your skin, his hand leaving your hip to delve down towards your clit. He started playing with that little bundle of nerves, flickering it until you were just about to lose your mind, dizziness making you feel near to fainting.

"Dabi...!!"

You orgasm ripped through you violently, abruptly, toes curling and mind going black before you knew it, before you could even hope to do anything about it. Your walls were clamping around Touya and coating his cock in your release.

"Fuuuuuuck..." He groaned, you were so impossibly tight around him he almost came in that very moment.

You went limp, exhausted, but he kep fucking you until he reached his own release soon after. His cock throbbed, and you feel the warmth of his cum inside you as he filled you up in a sloppy creampie, and god he came a lot, jets of semen coated your insides until your womb was filled to the brim. You felt his cock softening inside, before he pulled out.

"That was great, babe. I knew you were the best." He sighed lightly and content, smiling shamelessly at the mess he made of your pussy, cum flooding out of your hole. "You didn't even tell me to pull out."

You tried to get up, but your body ached already, so you remained on your back with him still on top.

"The pictures...delete them."

"Nah, I don't think so."

The fact those words only shocked you halfway was perhaps sadder than him playing you for a fool again.

"You promised..." You said softly, weakly smacking Touya in the chest, barely phased anymore.

"I'm a bastard, sugartits. Can't lose my number one slut that easily, not when I finally found you again."

What an absolute douchebag.

—————

Natsuo knocked on the bathroom door, worriedly calling your name.

"Hey, [Name]? Are you okay? You've been gone for a bit."

After a moment, you replied, opening the door and exiting the bathroom. Seeing Natsuo's relieved smile made you so happy, and you smiled back.

"Don't tell your parents but I got lost, so it took me a bit to find the bathroom." You said with an embarrassed expression, voice to match, distress that was in a way still real.

"Oh no, I knew I should've accompanied you." Natsuo sighed, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry love, but didn't you see my brother? I told him to tell you where to go if he saw you."

You quickly shook your head. Hoping that the toilet paper you held between your legs would keep Touya's cum from spilling out.

—————

That night, when everyone had fallen asleep. You sneaked out of your room, careful not to wake up Natsuo. You planted a sweet, chaste kiss on his lips, gazed at him lovingly. You were doing it for you and Natsuo. You keep telling yourself.

Hearing a soft knocking sound, Touya smiled to himself. He walked to open the door of his bedroom to find you there, fingers lifting the hem of your dress to show your naked pussy underneath. Folds already glistening with the fluids of your arousal.

You heart was doing it for Natsuo.

But your body would always do it for Touya.

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #dabi thirst #tw manipulation #tw dubcon #tw gaslighting #tw cheating #this is the longest fic i've written so far and it wasn't intentional

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cutegirlmayra · 3 years

Note

*Slurps on ice coffee* ey yo Mayra what's cracking? I need some good ole fashioned protective Sonic of Amy I̶'̶m̶ ̶b̶a̶s̶i̶c̶ ̶b̶u̶t̶ ̶I̶ ̶l̶o̶v̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶ . Maybe something like the press or newspaper attack Amy's character which upset her and Sonic defends or tries to comfort her? That'd be great thanks *Puts on shades and skateboards away*

What up, homie? How’s the skate? Don’t get home to late, my man, you know how these streets be at night. OUR TOWN. That’s what’s up! -slaps hand into yours and does a bro-hold-

You can see my response and thinking for this on the Pajama Blogs! (x) Timecode: 28:12

Referencing my fanfiction: Trying to ‘Tap’ into Love

PROMPT REQUESTS ARE ON SHUTDOWN, DO NOT SEND ANY TO ME, please and thank you ;3c

Prompt:

It was a pretty late night. I hadn’t seen Amy so upset before.

Usually, in the past, it wasn’t uncommon for Amy to come rushing to me--arms flung out and moving like a speed train with tears that sprawled into sparkling stars against the sky.

I always, usually, kinda-sorta, caught her and just let her cry it out with an awkward smile to my face.

But this time... Amy wanted to be alone.

That was weird. I first heard about it from Tails, who said that she had been reading some articles about the team and how they’ve said some pretty critiquing things about her... I’ve never really dealt with anything like that.

Joking, completely, I’ve totally had my fair share. But what about Amy? I always figured... well, she came off as pretty independently confident all on her own. I didn’t think she cared that much about what everyone thought of her.

So I was a bit concerned by Tails’s words, but I thought nothing of it. Waved it off as a momentary sadness for her, after all, this was Amy! She could bounce back from anything.

If it was really serious, I figured she would have come charging after me like before.

The stars weren’t here tonight... odd.

Sorry, where was I? Oh, yeah. The second time I heard anything a little more alarming was from Knuckles. Apparently, Amy had come to seek some solace from the unconditionally loving Chao--now this had been a solid day and half since I’ve heard about the incident of her wanting to be alone after reading some bad commentary on her--and she would shake the chao away from clinging to her.

He said he didn’t get it, cause she used to love to cuddle them and they all were really hurt by her wanting to keep her distance and just pat their heads.

Now, if anything were to set me and Knuckles off, it was that.

His face was so strained as he talked to me about it, I’ve never seen Knuckles trying to hold back so much worry and anger before. He said he tried to go over and give her a piece of his mind, but when she turned around, her eyes were vacant of anything but tears.

“It looked like she thought she had done something wrong before she even did it.” He stated, “I didn’t have the heart to continue yelling at her, so I just shooed her away, telling her to pick on someone else if she was feeling that crummy.”

“Harsh, Knuckles. Harsh.” I joked, but there was a low-key truth to what I said. “Tails said something about harsh comments on some articles she likes to read about us.” The old alter of the Master Emerald’s shrine was as stony and gravely as ever. The little pieces of chipped pebbles always grinded and dug themselves under my fur and into my skin every time I sat there, but Knuckles acted like nothing ever phased his tough skin.

I was acting kinda tough, too... to be real honest with you.

Knuckles huffed, grumbling as he picked up some berry juice he had squashed into a half-coconut bowl and passed one over to me. “Doesn’t excuse telling a kid they can’t hold ya.” He was right... but then again...

“Maybe she just didn’t want the sympathy.” It was hard to look at it from a girl’s point of view, I didn’t quite understand what would tip her over the edge like that. Maybe they said she wasn’t pretty enough..? Ehh..?

“Girls really care about how others view them, you know?” I took a sip. It did in fact taste good, and I leaned back to let the slight acidy feel tingle against my throat as its favorable burst went down the ol’pipe. “Ahh~ That’s the spot!”

“...I don’t think you should be acting so carefree about this, Sonic.”

His sudden tone made me stop enjoying the berry sensation and look back to him, a little surprised but not by much. Knuckles always chose the direct route in any conversation, it’s what made him so easy and frustrating to talk to.

I smiled and closed my eyes, putting a foot down a step to stretch it out and sighed.

“...Yeah. I know.”

“If you know, then why don’t you do something about it!?” Knuckles, always ready to pull his voice out and speak up when he sees something he doesn’t like. “The very fact that she’s a girl means you should do somethin’ about it! Girls aren’t meant to mope about, they gotta be treated decently! Ain’t that half your job?!” ...Still, it made me like him like that. He was a good guy, and had the real makings of a hero--at least, to my standards--and a good friend at that!

“Half, huh?” I took another sip. Did everyone think me and Amy were something more..? After all these years, I hadn’t the slightest clue. Seems everyone else held a standard in their mind about it though...

“I’m serious! Aren’t you planning to do something about it?”

“Am I?” I smirked, not liking to be asked direct questions about myself. I took the coconut drink down and set it to the side, getting up and stretching my arm out in a few simple gestures. Spreading it across my chest and pulling it with my other hand, then twisting my torso right and down as I put the other arm back and used the one I’d momentarily stretched to reach sky high with it. “Boy, that feels good!”

“Grr... Sonic... if you’re making fun of this, I’ll-!” Before getting Knuckles too wound up, seeing him lift his fists again, I flicked myself in my usual--Sonic Charm~

I winked and wiggled my pointer finger, turning one leg to be slightly bent as I was about to speed off anyway.

I had heard what I wanted too, now time to do some more digging before investigating it right at it’s source.

“Don’t worry so much, Knuckles! Like I’d ever leave Amy to her own assumptions.” I still wasn’t sure what she was struggling with... but wanting to be alone and not have anyone clinging to her in affection?

Didn’t sound like Amy Rose to me.

While heading to dart off the island, I stopped by the chao and asked them what their story was.

Squatting down, I think I mustered up enough of my expertise in games to figure out their charaded play. It seems the chao could tell something was off from Amy’s usual, cheery nature. To try and help, they tried to swarm her as she usually did with endless hugs, but she delicately plucked each one off at a time and set them back down.

All she wanted was to sit, looking sadly between her arms and legs--I’m guessing the chao were trying to do the fetal upright position but their budgy bodies just can’t do it.--and pat their heads.

It made them uncomfortable to not be able to love on her, I assumed, and they continued to show me great concern as they held my arms in different places and showed me their adorable eyes.

“I get it, don’t worry, Amy’s gonna be just fine.” I smiled the best I could, but hearing... well, seeing their side of the story really... heh, opened my eyes?

Puns. Always a defense mechanism when you don’t intend to use them that way.

Something had me wanting to wait before I saw Amy again, though. Usually, that wasn’t like me, but I wanted a bigger picture.

I sped over to Cream’s and Vanilla’s, where I thought more insight might be had.

Tails had already called them, doing his own work to try and collect the pieces before directly asking Amy. We all knew Amy could be a bit... Nah, I won’t say it. But we wanted a better idea before we approached her about it.

Just safer that way...

I rubbed my head, remembering how easily one could fall into that hammer’s swing if they didn’t word things a bit more carefully, as Cream and Vanilla recounted Amy’s strange melancholy behavior, and how she wanted to seem less-

“Feminine?” That threw me for a loop, and trust me, I’ve had my fair share of running through loops.

“Well, not quite.” Vanilla was sitting on her lovely coach with Cream and Cheese sitting adjacent but slightly on her lap. She looked down at Cream who held her chin up a moment, wanting to be polite as she addressed me.

I did my best to hold a steady and kind eye-contact, but I could tell she was struggling to admit what she heard and saw.

“Miss Amy kept asking me strange questions. Like... Was she too much on something. I didn’t understand and she kept insisting I shouldn’t coddle her or lie to her. I didn’t know how to take that... I would never lie to Miss Amy! I just... didn’t understand what she wanted from me.”

It pained me to see that Amy had hurt someone from her own insecurities.

That was everything Amy stood against, and that’s when I knew this was getting out of hand.

I had let her be for a day just to see if she would either work it out on her own or come crying to me... but she hadn’t done either.

She was now hurting those close to her... and so it was time to intervene.

“Thank you for telling me that, Cream.” I purposefully spoke as tenderly as I could, “I’m sure that was hard for you. I’m very grateful you told me what happened.”

She buried herself into her mother’s chest, still hurt, and that drove a powerful fire through me.

That does it, Amy.

You don’t hurt people when you’re injured.

You come to someone stronger to help heal you if you can’t do it yourself.

At the time, I was really upset. Amy must have been polarized by the media.

They call her too traditional? Is that why she wanted to be more ‘tough’ like? Too protected? Too appeased?

Feminine... did she feel like a damsel in distress instead of our trusted friend?

I was trying to keep my head leveled, but I ended up closing my eyes during my run and letting the night’s air beat against me to try and cool myself off before finding her.

She wasn’t home, I checked the windows. No lights.

Unless she was sitting the dark, Amy always had a reading light on. She only turned every light off in her house when she was going to bed, so she could see the stars and feel like we were watching them together, no matter if we were far apart or not.

I looked to see she hadn’t any dirty dishes in the sink, and while peeking through the window, I noticed her drapes were down as well. That means she hadn’t been cooking or baking, and that she hadn’t opened the windows and pulled the drapes to let the smells carry, hoping I’d catch wind of it and invite myself in for a dinner with her.

I sped over to the city, thinking maybe she went on one of those ‘journey walks’ where she just window shops but ends up buying too many bags and waiting for me to bolt by and help her with them. She liked to think and experience things outside the home too... but I didn’t see her struggling with shopping bags anywhere.

She wasn’t watching Twinkle Park’s lights from her favorite outdoor restaurant, or purposefully losing her hat in hope’s I’d somehow see it and return it to her. She wasn’t sitting on her favorite spot with her favorite outdoor umbrella with her typical strawberry and vanilla shake and pretending she was too cold to finish it, bundling up and hoping I’d make a move and pull her closer or something.

She wasn’t in the fields where she’d pick flowers with Cream, or stare up at the clouds and reminisce about old times and stories we used to tell each other, or have her head on a bed of flowers so butterflies would come and sit on her still face as she dreamed of a future with me in it. Waiting for me to zip by and have the butterflies spread out and fly through my backdraft as the air around where I just blazed through would slowly return to a even, equilibrium.

She wasn’t anywhere I usually found her at.

I came up to my last spot I could think of. Why was this so hard? Amy could find me in a heartbeat... which... I couldn’t quite feel right now because it was fluttering dangerously like my shaky breaths.

I kept a strong look on my face, simply because I was worried my fear at not finding her would leak through and make her feel bad about being too well hidden.

I didn’t want her to feel bad... I didn’t want her to be alone for this long.

It had been the dark of the second day... I just wanted to see her. Make sure she was okay...

That anger that once fueled me was now popping in sparks of concern that made me walk around the rolling hills of Green Hill zone.

If she wasn’t here... looking for me... then I truly didn’t know where she was.

Eggman... would have been my next guess.

That, or Amy was replaced by a robot of his and was terrorizing the living daylights out of her friends!

... It was concerning. I wouldn’t worry. I couldn’t worry... Amy wasn’t a little girl anymore and hateful, spiting comments were to be expected when you live in the spotlight.

But I was just wanting to know where she was... how she was... It was starting to drive me crazy.

“Where are you... Amy?” I looked up to the sky, blank and black, and I didn’t like the omen it sent me. Like chills down my fur, the wind finally got to me. I felt the cold... empty world for the first time... realizing Amy was out in it without me.

Was she without her coat? Was she silently re-reading those awful articles?

‘Amy... Amy... Hear me... You’re not alone.’ My thoughts channeled through to my feet and I kept searching, darting here to there, scouting out east and west, north to south was like zig-zagging till every blade swayed left and right to make sure she wasn’t hiding somewhere in it’s darkened shade...

A crescent moon... not a full one. She liked the full moon.

‘Amy...’

As I ran through a rather flattened terrain of another zone, I watched to the side of me how the treelined slimmed down and the edge of the world rose up on a hill... that soon became a mountain.

Blocking my view... of any light the night could have brought to her.

She only liked the dark when she was about to sleep... it’d be too dark to really see her way home, soon.

I had confidence she knew her way home, that the world wasn’t that dangerous... but I wondered if her mind could be.

‘Amy...’ I bit down my teeth, charging forward in a streak of blue.

“AMMMMYYY!!!!”

----

As though hearing something in the distance, I raised my head and looked back over my shoulder.

Something kept telling me Sonic was looking for me... but I wondered if that was true this time.

I turned my solemn head with a sigh back to the last shred of light from the fading sun... I felt like... if I got any closer, I would feel it’s warmth envelop me completely... and I’d disappear from this world.

All these awful words in my head would cease, all this terrible feeling of not being enough, or too much, or just dull and unwanted... I wanted it all to go away.

I had cried and thought so much, self-reflected to the point of not even knowing where I was or how far I had traveled off too.

Tails said I was acting too sensitive to words that random people that didn’t even know me had said. Knuckles yelled at me when I tried to change my behavior so I wasn’t what those people had written about. Cream even got tongue-tied trying to voice her own thoughts about me... and ended up just saying something to ‘feed my ego’ as they put it.

No... Cream wouldn’t do that. Tails wouldn’t try and be so dismissive of me like they said they all are. Knuckles... Okay, Knuckles is loud and yells a lot, but he meant well..!

She groaned and let herself flop back to lay against the cold grass, still holding her arms around herself as she was getting terribly cold in her heartache.

Knuckles just didn’t like how the chao were reacting to my new behavior... it’s understandable they would have been apprehensive to me trying to love them a little less directly... But practicing my new, refined self on them didn’t seem to have any good effects...

Maybe I’m overthinking... but I just want someone to tell me... I’m alright.

She put her arms over her eyes, refusing to look up at such a dark and ugly sky tonight.

“I just-” she sniffed, feeling the hot tears break through her already stained, sticky cheeks full of her earlier dried tears again. “I just want someone to tell me I’m perfect the way I am..!”

A sound arrowed itself into a bow along the plain of where Amy was, a sound that soared through her like a sonicboom that cracked through to her heart and made her sit up, looking as though with outrageous hope towards the last lowering light of the sun’s touch...

The grassy hill behind her seemed to have made a sound like something was moving quickly across it’s tundra... like something was refusing to let her sit in the quietness to let her thoughts overwhelm and consume her.

Her thoughts could hear someone calling her name...

“Sonic..?”

She lightly whispered his name out.

Then, as though pushing her lips back to not bother him, but wanting more than anything to jump into his arms-!

“SOOONIICCC!!!”

-----

He zoomed back to the sound, his eyes raising as though elated to finally get a trace of her.

And those tears that sparkled and lit up the entire night sky with stars...

And those arms that reached out for him, as though stretching on for eternity... a never-ending yearning he always accepted, granted a little half-heartedly, but never refused.

That scene was forever imprinted on him... and he wasn’t letting Amy leave his sights till she was her usual, teasingly flirty and emotionally unbreakable, spirited and youthful self again!

#The pining..!!!! The yearning..!!! Ahhh!!!#sonamy #sonicxamy #cutegirlmayra #sonic prompt #sonamy prompt #sonamy hurt/comfort #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose

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bloodstone-and-bones · 3 years

Text

The King of Two Courts

This is a playlist for my dude Gwyn ap Nudd. Help me find a better name bc “The Kings of Light and Sorrow” is already taken by my Gwyn/Ash playlist. Please send any song recommendations for these playlists my way!(Mostly about his perseverance and strength aka not a lot of gentle songs. A lot of Johnny Cash songs so be warned. American Southern Gothic vibes bc I said so.) Link at the bottom.

Achilles Come Down // Gang of Youths

Gwyn being talked into believing himself worthy of things despite what Albion and Crielle say.

Glitter and Gold // Barns Courtney

Total “walk like a badass” song.

“Do you walk in the valley of kings, Do you walk in the shadow of men, Who sold their lives for a dream?” Becoming a king of both courts (respectively, not at the same time) because of the Oak King and the Raven Prince.

Black Eyes // Radical Face

“While I slept you crept in and pulled the rug right out from under me” Augus finding out the truth of his alignment.

Broken Crown // Mumford & Sons

“And I will not speak of your sins, There was a way out for him, The mirror shows not, Your values are all shot” Gwyn mourning Mafydd (god I hope I spelt that right) and swearing to keep his alignment a secret.

Ain’t No Grave // Johnny Cash

“Ain’t No Grave, Can hold my body down” No matter what level of fae he is, nothing can keep him down.

God’s Gonna Cut You Down // Johnny Cash

“Go tell that long tongue liar, Go and tell that midnight rider, Tell the rambler the gambler the back biter” Gwyn saying hey I’m the new king tell everyone and I mean EVERYONE I’m not tolerating any shit.

Black Sun // Death Cab for Cutie

“And there is death upon the vine, There is fear in the eyes of your father” Not that Lludd was ‘afraid’ of Gwyn but he was a little worried about his powers. “Death upon the vine” refers to the end of the family line bc Gwyn ruined any chance of them having more kids.

Sinners // Barns Courtney

“Let’s go have some fun before, They go and put us in the ground” A rousing war song for the unseelie armies.

Blood On My Name // The Brothers Bright

“When the fires are consuming you, And your sacred stars won’t be guiding you, I’ve got blood, I’ve got blood on my name” when Gwyn looses his light in the Ice Plague.

Grave Digger // Blues Saraceno

“Let me be the one that got away” Gwyn escapes as underfae from Albion’s grasp.

I Hung My Head // Johnny Cash

Idk this song reminds me of Gwyn going to Augus the first time after he made that one guy eat his father’s heart (or was it the other way around I don’t remember).

I Won’t Back Down // Johnny Cash

“You can stand me up at the gates of Hell, but I won’t back down” (I warned you there’s a lot of Johnny Cash lmao.) Gwyn standing his ground as king.

Redemption // Johnny Cash

“My old friend Lucifer came, Fought to keep me in chains” Crielle trying to keep him under her control even after her death.

Bottom Of The River // Delta Rae

“Don’t you lift him, let him drown alive, The good Lord speaks like a rolling thunder” this song has two meanings: that one scene where Augus drowns Gwyn and the other is Gwyn training with Lludd and him not letting up on him bc that’s what Crielle (the good Lord) has said.

Old Devils // William Elliot Whitmore

“And they tell me there’s a war without no end, The old devils are at it again” Gwyn and the gang going after David and Olphix who created the Ice Plagus and the fire that burnt Mosk’s family.

Hurt // Johnny Cash

“Everyone I know, Goes away in the end, And you can have it all, My empire of dirt, I will let you down, I will make you hurt” Gwyn feels unlovable and he just wants the kingship to be handled by someone else.

#not poignant #gwyn ap nudd #augus each uisge #game theory #coft #crielle #Lludd #playlist #I feel like it needs a better name but I don’t know man #working on even more fae tales playlists #so be warned #fae tales #fae tales playlist

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yeehawetc · 3 years

Text

Title: Bachelor’s Grove

Pairing: none

Summary: It’s Christmas 1885. Dutch is talking to anarchists, Hosea’s trying to scam an old man out of his house, and Arthur’s trying to figure out the very weird kid they just picked up. Nobody knows if they’re going to keep him, and John doesn’t want to go back.

Warnings: some gory imagery; almost-kind-of-you-decide-whether-it’s-magical-realism?

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28368408

@wolfmeat, I was your secret santa! (I bet you never guessed. Love you)

The sun glancing off the frosted windows of the station house blinds Arthur temporarily as he slips off Boadicea. He tugs off his heavy mittens to tie her to the hitching post, then stuffs his chapped hands quickly back into his coat pockets. There was an inch of ice on the water bucket this morning in camp. Arthur wishes Dutch had chosen a warmer morning to get caught with a known anarchist distributing anti-government literature.

He steps inside, and again can’t fucking see for a minute. The station’s dark even in daylight, old wood lit by dusty kerosene lamps that stink louder than the general musk of a constant cycle of drunks’ piss and tobacco spit. Arthur stops for a minute inside the door to let his eyes adjust, and the officer at the desk barks at him.

“What you want, son?”

“Payin’ a social call,” Arthur says, and takes the wad of bills Hosea counted out for him and tosses it onto the desk. The fella’s eyebrows hop nearly off his face, and Arthur scans the cells while he counts the money. It doesn’t take him long to pick him out. There’s not many people in the 18th district jailhouse wearing black silk and sitting on the cot like it’s a goddamn throne.

Dutch stands to meet him when Arthur approaches the cell, straightening his vest and checking the time on his pocket watch. As if Arthur were here picking him up from a social function, as if he didn’t have a huge purple bruise over one cheekbone.

“Good morning, Arthur,” he says, spreading his arms wide.

“Hosea’s gonna have your hide,” Arthur tells him. Dutch waves that away blithely, picking up his coat. He limps elegantly to the door of the cell and extends a broad hand to the jailkeeper, who doesn’t take it.

“A merry Christmas to you and your family,” Dutch says, beaming. Arthur can tell he’d like to knock the man’s teeth out. “Very sorry to insult your hospitality this way, but I’m afraid I ain’t inclined to spend another night in the company of the state.”

The guard isn’t impressed. “Go on,” he says, “before I change my mind.”

Dutch, Arthur notes with some dismay, is clearly in a good mood. For the first fifteen minutes of the ride back to camp, Dutch expounds on the uselessness of the state and the pathetic bankruptcy of soul that must lead a man like that wretch back at the jailhouse to feed his family off the profits of a government that’s nothing more than a tradition, and a cruel and foolish one at that, and Arthur picks at the loose wool on his mittens and watches his breath steam in the air.

“The true place for a just man, Arthur, is a prison,” Dutch shouts to him through the blistering chill as they wind south towards Bachelor’s Grove.

“True place for a man who can’t run on a sprained ankle, more like,” Arthur says, and Dutch throws his head back and laughs so loud a crow gets startled off the fence they’re passing by, and Arthur can’t help himself, he’s grinning.

“We’re onto something good here, Arthur,” Dutch says as they pass into the woods. “Silas tells me that Leslie Ashville—that haggard old maggot who owns the steel works where Silas’s poor cousin lost his hand last month—is losing his mind.”

“This the same Silas who got you arrested last night?” Arthur asks.

Dutch ignores him. “Old Ashville’s cracking, Arthur. Talking to folks as ain’t there and forgetting his own name. They say he ain’t gonna see the year of our Lord 1886, and it don’t seem right to me to let that fine gentleman die alone, with no one but his vampire of a nephew to carry on his legacy.”

“So,” Arthur says, starting to see where this is going, “you’re goin’ to apologize to Hosea for getting yourself arrested by inviting him to con a dyin’ man out of his money?”

“A dyin’ industrialist,” Dutch confirms brightly.

The camp’s a cluster of tents and wagons in a stand of oaks just south of the quarry pond, a respectful distance from the scattered headstones of Bachelor’s Grove cemetery. As they ride in, Arthur can see Hosea and Miss Grimshaw hurrying between the tents, ducking to look under the wagons and talking hotly. He catches Miss Grimshaw’s last sentence on the wind as he and Dutch ride closer: “...can’t have gone far in this cold.”

“What’s happening?” Dutch inquires as he slips down from the Count, favoring his hurt ankle just a little.

“The boy’s disappeared,” Hosea says, and Arthur doesn’t miss the relief that settles over Dutch’s features when he realizes this latest catastrophe is going to postpone a conversation with Hosea about his own sins.

“Go on, Arthur,” he says, “you look up thataways, and pray he ain’t fallen down that quarry. I’ll look off to the west, and Hosea, you and Miss Grimshaw stay here in case he comes back on his own.”

Arthur sets out grudgingly on foot. This ain’t the first time the kid’s given them trouble. In fact, Arthur reflects, he’s been more trouble than anything else since the moment Dutch caught sight of that rabble of homesteaders tying a noose to a walnut tree and decided to investigate. When they got closer and it turned out the fearful criminal due for a lynching that day was a twelve-year-old kid with an armful of onions and a crazy look in his eye, Arthur was the one who picked the kid up and carried him to safety while Dutch and Hosea argued with the would-be executioners. And then, Arthur was the one who got onion juice spit in his eye for his troubles and a nice set of bite marks on his neck.

The kid’s calmed down in the weeks since, or at least been effectively convinced Arthur isn’t trying to kidnap him, but he still bites. And apparently that ain’t all. Once they got him back to camp and a bowl of stew in front of him, he told Dutch his name’s John, his folks are dead, and he knows how to kill a man. Those facts, in that order, and if they didn’t light Dutch’s face up. Dutch likes the odd ones. Arthur tries not to think too deeply about how that reflects on him.

John’s odd, all right. He talks to himself all day; talks to animals too, and rocks and trees. And, strange enough, he’s a hell of a shot—hit every one of the cans Dutch lined up for him a week after he joined the camp, “just to see what he can do.” But he’s young, younger even than Arthur was when Dutch found him, and that’s a problem. Dutch said he’s safer here than on his own, Miss Grimshaw said a child his age got no business running with outlaws, Hosea said he ought to go to an orphanage, and John started hollering so loud nobody could finish the argument, and in the month since the question of what’s to be done with John has stood open. For now, it seems, he’s with them, but one of these days somebody’s gonna have to make a decision.

But maybe John’s made a decision of his own, now. This isn’t the first time he’s run off—he seems to have a special talent for that—but the longer Arthur trudges through the snow, the more it seems John might have made a real shot at it this time.

Arthur skirts the mouth of the quarry pond, looking reluctantly for any sign of a little body floating in the glassy dark water ringed all around with ice, and ascertains to his satisfaction and relief that John hasn’t drowned. He’d be sure to, if he had fallen, based on the almighty fuss he put up the first time Miss Grimshaw tried to get him to wash himself, shrieking that she was trying to drown him. Dutch finally intervened, grabbing John by his collar and belt and tossing him bodily into the creek, where it immediately became clear John’s never been in water deeper than his big toe. Arthur grins to himself as he picks around the clumps of buckthorn skirting the edge of the pond, remembering the look of dumb outrage on the kid’s spluttering face when he resurfaced and realized he was only knee-deep.

Arthur turns away from the quarry and up the snowy path towards the cemetery gates, squinting at the beaten stones that line the ground on either side. He can’t make out the names, but Hosea told him it’s mainly railway workers and homesteaders buried here, Russians and Germans and Irish. Folks who came from worlds away to get run over by wagons, or catch the grippe, or just to blow their own brains out when the crops failed and the government turned a blind eye. Ma’s buried in a place that looks like this. Pa too, maybe, only Arthur didn’t stay to see.

He watches a red-bellied woodpecker hammer busily at someone’s gravestone, and wonders if he should start to worry.

Then he turns onto the path leading up to the cemetery gate, a rickety wrought-iron arch planted between two spreading white cedars, and sees the kid. He’s sitting in the snow next to a tall granite monument, arms clasped around his legs and his head ducked down onto his knees, drowning in Hosea’s spare coat and Miss Grimshaw’s old scarf. His hair, as usual, hangs down over his pinched face like he’s trying to hide it.

“Hey,” Arthur calls out, and watches as John’s head snaps up like a spooked deer. But he stays where he is, body held tense and unmoving, as Arthur jogs forward through the icy cover of snow.

Up close, Arthur can see the kid’s been crying: his eyes are red, his cheeks are wet and chapped, and there’s a goddamn river of snot traveling down his chin. Still, when Arthur asks if he’s all right, he snaps, “A-course” and glares as if Arthur accused him of some grave offense.

“You scared folks, runnin’ off like that,” Arthur tells him, nudging John’s leg with the toe of his boot.

John shakes his head. “I ain’t scary.”

“Never said you was.” Arthur holds out a hand to pull the kid up. John doesn’t take it. “Come on now.”

John shakes his head, straggly hair flying side to side with the vehemence of his refusal. Stubborn as a horse’s ass is one thing they’ve already learned about John, and it ain’t Arthur’s favorite quality.

“What happened this time?” he sighs, settling himself against a gravestone opposite John. “Hosea said you just up and disappeared.”

John shrugs. “I ain’t talkin’ to you.” He’s picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of the coat, frowning furiously at it.

“What, did Grimshaw try to make you wash again? Because you know you stink.”

“Don’t neither.”

“You do,” Arthur assures him.

John sniffs, pulling his sleeve over his face and smearing snot even further across his cheek. “I ain’t goin’ back,” he says.

“Suit yourself,” Arthur says, shrugging broadly. “You wanna run off on your own, get yourself strung up by another pack of tetchy farmers, I guess that ain’t no business of mine.”

“No it ain’t,” John snaps, nodding in satisfaction.

“Awfully cold, though,” Arthur remarks, pulling his coat a little closer and squinting up at the sky. “I do believe that’s a storm comin’ in off to the east there.” John pokes his head up from the depths of Hosea’s coat to swivel his skinny neck around. “Still,” Arthur goes on, “you’ve obviously made up your mind, so I ain’t gonna try to talk you out of it.” He stands up, brushing snow off his coat. “Shame about them pies, though.”

John squints at him. “What pies?”

“Pies?” Arthur says. “Oh, the pies—oh, that ain’t nothin’. Only, I know Miss Grimshaw was plannin’ a heap of pie for Christmas. Mince pie, she said. Maybe apple. And Hosea, he’s made friends with a fella down at the slaughterhouse, figures he’ll get us a pig to roast.”

John stares. “I never seen a pig roast.”

“Well,” Arthur says, “I guess you ain’t gonna see one this year. Seein’ as you’re goin’ it alone now.” John squirms irritably in his snowy seat, frowning at Arthur. Arthur waits, listening to crows scream in the cedars.

“They was fixin’ to take me back to the nuns,” John says finally, in an unusually soft little voice. Not looking at Arthur.

“What,” Arthur says, startled, “Hosea and Grimshaw?”

John nods. “I heard ‘em. I was diggin’ in the dirt by that big ol’ stump an’ I was eatin’ some cheese an’ then I heard the lady say ‘this ain’t no place for a child, I heard him cough’ only I wasn’t coughin’, I just had some crumbs in my throat, an’ then Hosea said ‘he ain’t settlin’ in so good an’ I think we oughta see if them nuns’ll take him,’ an’ Dutch weren’t there and now he’s gone they’re gonna take me back there an’ so I got my coat an’ I snuck off ‘fore they could catch me an’ I ain’t goin’ back, if you take me back they’re just gonna make me go back to the nuns an’ they’ll cook me an’ eat me an’ then I ran an’ I ran an’ I heard someone comin’ so I hid behind the graves only then I thought maybe it was dead folks so I waited an’ then I heard someone else comin’ but it was you an’ I ain’t goin’ back, I ain’t gonna let ‘em do it.” He breaks off, breathing hard. His cheeks are red.

Arthur, a little dizzy trying to parse out that garbled spew of words, thinks he can see tears gathering in the corners of the kid’s eyes. Passing over, for the moment, the idea of cannibal nuns, he sighs and says, “Look, kid, ain’t nobody gonna send you anywhere without Dutch’s say-so, and Dutch ain’t decided yet.”

John frowns. “But he went to jail.”

“Yeah, dumbass, and I went and got him out,” Arthur says. “He’s out lookin’ for you right now.”

The kid’s eyes get wide at that. Arthur sees him take a shaky little breath and whisper something to himself that Arthur can’t catch.

“Come on,” he says, “I’m freezin’ my nuts off, and you ain’t gettin’ cooked alive by nobody this Christmas. Come on back, and I’ll tell Grimshaw an’ Hosea to lay off talkin’ about nuns.” He holds out his hand again.

This time, after a little consideration, John takes it, tugging hard as he struggles up to his feet. Arthur’s astonished at how light he is; the kid weighs nearly nothing. He sets himself on his feet, pulls Grimshaw’s scarf over his grimy face, and looks up to Arthur.

“An’ we’ll have pie?” he asks, hopefully.

“Sure,” Arthur nods. “Pie and pig.”

“I ain’t never had a Christmas dinner,” John tells him as they head back towards camp.

“What, never?”

John shrugs. He’s playing with the loose ends of his scarf, tossing them back and forth on his palms. “I heard about it, but I never had one. Me an’ pa, one time we stole a whole duck an’ he said that’s Christmas dinner, but it gave me the trots an’ I shit till I yelled.”

“Thank you for that,” Arthur says.

John nods, clambers over a wooden fence, and drops down the other side in a little flurry of snow. “What’s it like?” he asks, and the question’s so dumb and so oddly sweet that Arthur feels a little twinge in his chest.

“I dunno,” he says. “Like a party, I guess. Folks make good food and talk and sing, and go to church I suppose, only I ain’t been since I was a little, little kid, littler than you.”

“I ain’t little,” John interjects, scrambling over a rock.

“Well, I was,” Arthur says. “But my ma used to make supper, and we’d have turkey and fish and ham and potatoes and beans, and after she’d play on her organ.”

“What’s a organ,” John asks.

“A kinda musical instrument,” Arthur tells him. He hasn’t thought about this in years, can only vaguely picture the boxy little organ in the corner, Mama’s pale hands on the keys. The melody’s long gone. “Sorta like a piano, I figure, only it’s got pipes and pedals. My ma had one from a catalogue, and she said it kept her company out there in the country.” He remembers that: the way she’d sit at the organ in the evenings, not even playing some nights, just sitting. The way she cried when they came back from town and the organ was gone, sold to a man Pa found looking to pay good money for a secondhand Beckwith for his wife. Arthur remembers that, all right.

“So,” John says, “ya play music and ya eat?”

“More or less,” Arthur says. “S’posed to be some kinda holy day, but mostly folks just like to eat.”

They’re nearing camp, now, and Arthur can see the defensive curl in John’s shoulders. When he sees Dutch sitting at the camp table, though, he breaks away from Arthur’s side and dashes over, planting himself next to Dutch, arms crossed stubbornly over his chest.

“So you found him, Arthur,” Dutch greets him as Arthur approaches the table.

“Out hidin’ in the graveyard,” Arthur says. “I guess he prefers the company of dead folks to ours.” Dutch laughs, and John scowls.

“I weren’t hidin’,” he says. “And I didn’t see no dead folks.”

Arthur leaves him with Dutch, leaning intently over Evelyn Miller’s America and shooting Dutch shy reverential looks, and goes to find Hosea. He’s by the fire, poking at the dull coals, and he raises a hand as Arthur approaches.

“Found him all right?”

Arthur hums his yes, settling himself on the log Dutch dragged out of the woods as a seat. “Told ‘im we’d have pie for Christmas,” he tells Hosea. “He liked that.”

Hosea laughs. “Our little associate seems mightily driven by food,” he remarks drily.

“Like a damn pig,” Arthur agrees. Hosea chuckles, stretching his legs out and lighting a cigarette.

“I take it Dutch filled you in on his latest scheme,” he remarks, and Arthur can tell from the crinkle at the corner of his eye that excitement’s overtaken his annoyance at Dutch.

“The Ashville thing? He mentioned it,” Arthur says. “Somethin’ about stealin’ the fella’s legacy, or something.”

“Legacy, Arthur, is another word for a fat bank account,” Hosea says. “Besides, if we can play this thing right, there’s a roof over our heads in January. That boy’s already got a cough, and I for one would prefer not to spend the winter thawing out my backside every time I need to shit. I’ll need your help with the paperwork for this one, though.”

Arthur nods, rubbing his hands together in the growing warmth from the fire, and feels odd. Doesn’t know why he feels, suddenly, choked. He feels the way he did when Hosea and Dutch first picked him up, as though any wrong word would have him out on his ear or worse. Like all his words were caught in his throat, because he couldn’t pick the ones that were right.

Hosea, naturally, doesn’t miss a thing. “What’s on your mind?”

Arthur hesitates, chewing his lip, thinking about John’s blank, tearful face; about Mama crying the night the Beckwith disappeared; about old Leslie Ashville alone in his house on Cherry Street, talking to people who aren’t there. About the look on John’s face, hope and wonderment, when Arthur said Dutch was looking. For him.

“He’s scared of us,” he says finally. “Scared of you. And Grimshaw, but that’s—I mean, she scares everyone.”

Hosea snorts gently, but all he says is, “Give him time.”

“How much time?” Arthur says. “Dutch ain’t said if he’s staying with us.”

“Dutch’ll decide when the time’s right,” Hosea says, as if that settles it. As if Arthur hasn’t heard John whimpering in his sleep every damn night since they picked him up. Arthur turns to look at him and Dutch—two dark heads matched at the table—and hopes the right time’s soon.

ii.

The house on Cherry Street is three dusty stories of Italianate brick, lit from within by a dozen candles. From the street, it looks warm, even festive—someone’s hung a grand ring of pine and holly on the heavy oak door—but as soon as Hosea steps inside, he feels the chill. It’s different from the brisk winter evening outside: a dry, sickly cold that seeps through Hosea’s coat and settles along the joints of his bones.

Someone’s dying in this house. Hosea’s felt that cold before.

He follows the maid down the hallway to the parlor, past the cavernous recesses of unlit rooms. Behind the false front of lamps, this house is dark and silent, save the single corridor of light that traces a line down its center. Hosea watches a chandelier of thick, ugly crystals sway mutely above his head as he passes beneath, and fixes his mind on his story.

It’s his second visit to the Ashville mansion. On the first, he introduced himself as William Ashville, the long-lost offspring of the affair a group of Ashville Steel workers told Hosea about over bad whiskey at the Red Hen. It seems the story’s well known among Ashville’s discontented employees: the lady’s name was Eleanor, and Ashville promised her marriage, then left her at the altar and came west instead to make his fortune off the work of honest men. Nobody’s been able to give Hosea an exact date, but one fellow, with a rough white beard and teeth so sparse and loose Hosea suspects he lost one in his beer over the course of the conversation, remembered the year Ashville turned up in Chicago as 1856, so Hosea’s dated the affair to about thirty years ago. He considered, briefly, having Dutch step in as the prodigal bastard, but this part requires a delicacy that Dutch, for all his charms, lacks. Besides, Hosea flatters himself that he can still play thirty. He borrowed a bit of Dutch’s pomade for the occasion, and a little of Susan’s face powder—and besides, old Ashville’s eyesight isn’t that good.

All in all, Ashville took the news of his unwitting fatherhood surprisingly well. Hosea, who after thirty-odd years of disregard for the fairer sex unexpectedly became surrogate parent to an unwashed teenage criminal, can attest to the shock that comes with that sort of arrival. True, there was a moment of initial skepticism from Ashville, but the family bible Hosea produced (purchased from a bookseller in the Levee, embellished by Arthur with the names of a whole fictitious lineage for poor forgotten William Ashville) seemed to turn the tide of his disbelief, and the love letter Hosea wrote after making a study of Ashville’s handwriting clinched the story. Today, Hosea’s back, in character as young William, with two missions: to lend cheer to his aging father’s lonely indisposition, and to lift a copy of the old man’s will.

He hears Ashville’s voice before they reach the parlor: halting, guttural, like water through a clogged pipe. He’s murmuring about the newspaper, about catching a train. The maid leads Hosea into the room, where an unfed fire lights a frail circle around Ashville’s chair and casts long shadows across the rich Turkish carpet, and Hosea can see that it’s empty; that Ashville’s talking to no one.

“Sir?” the maid says, leaning down to the high upholstered chair by the hearth. “Young Mr. William here to see you.”

Mr. Leslie Ashville, sole owner and proprietor of the Ashville Steel Works, looks molded of lean clay. He’s wrapped in a brocade robe that looks like it hasn’t been washed since the early ‘70s, his head bare save the airy thatch of white hair shrouding the glare of his scalp. Hosea finds him fascinatingly grotesque.

“Good evening, father,” he says, settling in the chair across from Ashville, who acknowledges his presence with a faint hum that turns into a cough.

“Is that you, William?” he croaks, finally, and Hosea leans closer to take his hand.

“I’m here.”

“Thought I saw your mother last night,” Ashville rasps. “Thought I heard her, in the walls.”

“Perhaps it was her spirit,” Hosea offers. “I do believe she’s glad to see us reunited.” There’s a bulk of shadow off behind Ashville’s right shoulder in the general shape of a writing desk. Hosea makes a note, and refocuses his attention on Ashville.

“She was beautiful, your mother,” the old man says, and then he’s off chasing the thread of that long-forgotten memory, a thread that seems to unravel every time he reaches another knot. Hosea plays the dream-weaver, dropping a hint or a suggestion every time he hears the man’s voice falter. It’s fragments he offers the old man, things that could have belonged in any lifetime, things easily forgotten and more easily misremembered: the color of a dress, the fate of an old school friend, the name of a parson or a shopkeeper; always just enough to get Ashville’s feet back under him and send him off along another strand of reminiscence. Together, between Ashville’s dying memory and Hosea’s healthy imagination, the two of them write Leslie and Eleanor’s love story by the light of the fading fire as the evening deepens into night.

The bells of St. Clement’s are chiming ten when it finally happens: Ashville stammers, trails off, and doesn’t look to Hosea for the next line of his memory-fantasy. Instead, his ancient head droops and lolls magnificently, and after a moment’s pause Hosea hears a loud, guttering snore. Ashville’s asleep.

Finally.

Easing himself off the slick horsehair of his seat, Hosea crosses to the shadowy desk he noticed earlier in the evening. It’s a heavy thing, made of rich cherrywood and full of drawers and cracks and pigeonholes. Hosea returns to the center of the parlor for a candle, and sets to work searching the desk, an ear out for the maid’s footstep or a shift in Ashville’s steady, ugly breath.

An hour later, he’s slipping out the front door into the midnight chill, bidding the maid a happy Christmas, with the thin pages of Leslie Ashville’s will flat against his side under his heavy coat. He found the lockbox easily enough, stowed in a deep drawer under a sheaf of old bills and past due correspondence, and five minutes was all it took to break the lock while Ashville snored in his seat ten paces away. The will itself is simple: all Ashville’s wealth and property deeded to his nephew Fred Ashville, the current junior proprietor of Ashville Steel and the devil himself as far as most of the working population of the west side’s concerned. Hosea thinks, as he makes his way down Cherry Street under a soft flurry of snow, that they’ll be doing mankind two services this December: keeping Leslie Ashville company on his trip towards the undiscovered country, and seeing to it that Fred Ashville never prospers again.

The campfire’s burning unusually bright when Hosea makes his way through the last bent hickories of Bachelor’s Grove. At first, Hosea thinks it must be Dutch who’s up, caught in one of those odd brain fevers where he can’t sleep till he’s filled fifty pages with words about God and death and man’s perverse indifference to nature—but when he gets closer he sees that it isn’t Dutch at all. It’s John, hunched gracelessly on one of the logs like a disgruntled little bullfrog, tossing little twigs and dead leaves into the flames to watch them sizzle and smoke. His lips are moving, but from his distance Hosea can’t tell what he’s saying. It occurs to Hosea that he’s spent quite a lot of his time lately in the company of people who talk to the air around them.

That’s the thing that worries Hosea. It’s not the taking him in—they’ve done as much before, and not only with Arthur. Hosea knows what it’s like to be ten and cold and empty as a tomb on Judgment Day, and he’s not about to turn away hungry mouths when there’s room at the fire and enough in the pot to go round. Besides, he’s never regretted letting Arthur stay. But Arthur was fourteen, not twelve, and Arthur didn’t talk to people who aren’t there. Arthur was just a kid whose father hit him too much, and a damn good thief. John’s something else, and after weeks Hosea still isn’t sure exactly what.

Hosea approaches the fire, and John starts, shoving his hands under his armpits as though Hosea just caught him doing something bad.

“It’s late,” Hosea observes.

John shrugs. “I’m not tired.” His eyes are huge in the firelight, and Hosea has the feeling he often gets when John looks at him—that the kid is sizing him up, calculating where to strike if trouble starts.

“I can see that,” Hosea says.

“Is he dead?” John asks. Arthur’s been telling him about the scheme, then. Hosea makes no pretense of sensitivity when it comes to death, but having spent a full evening playing the loving son to Ashville, Sr., he feels a mite put off by the ghoulishness of the question.

“Old Ashville? Not yet,” he says. “Go to bed.”

John doesn’t go to bed. He leans back, firelight catching the ragged ends of his hair, and says, “I seen a fella die once.”

“So have I,” Hosea tells him.

“He was coughin’,” John goes on, undeterred. “Blood was comin’ out of his mouth, an’ out of his nose, an’ all down his shirt an’ then—” he pauses dramatically, gathering a handful of rotting leaves into his grubby hand, “—then he shit in his pants, an’ a whole lot of blood came out his mouth, an’ the lady said he’s really dead now.” He tosses the bundle of leaves into the fire, which sends up a small gasp of muddy smoke. Hosea wonders who the lady was. Wonders where this child’s been, to tell that kind of story.

He doesn’t ask. “You’ve been dreaming,” he says, and it’s less a guess than most of what he spun for Ashville earlier tonight. He’s seen that spooked look before—seen it in Arthur’s eyes when he was barely older than John and still fighting his father off in his sleep; seen it in his cousin’s eyes when he came back from Sharpsburg a leg light and ten times heavier for it; seen it in Dutch, sometimes, too. Hosea knows too well what nightmares look like.

John scrubs at the snot trailing from his nose and shrugs. “I seen it,” is all he says. But he shudders, and his skinny shoulders hunch smaller against the night.

He’s clearly not going to go back to bed, and in a way, Hosea can’t see why he should have to. It’s well past midnight now, but Hosea isn’t tired either. The moon’s high, the air’s quiet, and he’s got a job to do. He might as well have some company while he does it.

“Come on,” he says, waving towards the table. John follows him over, and Hosea draws Leslie Ashville’s will from under his coat and spreads the pages across the pocked wood. John, who can’t read and tried to bite Dutch when he offered a lesson, peers at the frail sheets with the curiosity of a spider inspecting a particularly fearsome fly.

“Now,” Hosea begins, “what we’ve got to do is this.”

iii.

On Christmas Eve, something happens.

John isn’t sure at first what’s happened, only that folks are talking real loud and nobody’s telling him anything, but that’s not new. He goes into the trees and finds a big old stick and hits a stump till it falls into soft, stinking rubble, and stamps in the snow till there’s a flat circle all around. There’s a fat squirrel running around the base of a tree a ways off, and it stops for a minute and sniffs in John’s direction.

“I ain’t smelly,” he tells the squirrel. “An’ I ain’t stupid.”

The squirrel twitches and scoots away, tiny claws on the snow.

“John!” Arthur calls, and John kicks bits of rotten wood across the ground until Arthur comes through the trees. “Get your coat on,” he says, nodding back towards camp; “we’re goin’ into town.”

“Why,” John asks. He thinks about a wagon full of kids, rolling through the iron gates of the orphanage. He thinks he could kill Arthur, if he tried to put him in there. Kick his nuts, put his thumbs in his eyes and squeeze the jelly out, like that fella did to Pa in the bar, get his gun off him and point it to his heart.

If he had to do it, he thinks he could. He’d be sad about it after, though. He likes Arthur.

“Ashville’s dead,” Arthur’s saying. His face is split with a grin; John’s never seen him smile much. “We’re gonna be rich. We’re gettin’ the house.”

“Oh,” John says. He can see the old man in his head, wrinkled and tiny in a house like a tomb, the way Hosea told him the night he came back with that secret pack of papers. Worms in his nose. Gobs of blood pouring, pouring out of his slack, black mouth. “Really?”

“Really.”

It’s a cold ride into town, perched on the back of Arthur’s horse with his arms tight around Arthur’s middle. John can hear Dutch talking up ahead, but the wind’s too quick to hear the words. John probably wouldn’t understand it anyway. He can’t understand half what Dutch says. He’s never met anyone as smart as that. He wonders when Dutch is going to find out that John’s dumb as a rock. Dumb as a rock and the devil in him, that’s what people say. Dutch don’t seem to mind the devil so much, though. John doesn’t know what to think about that.

How exactly they got this house, John still doesn’t understand. Hosea took that dead man’s sheaf of papers, and said we’ll write these out again, and he and Arthur sat at the table for hours inking and scratching till Hosea said it was all perfect, and then there was some meetings with lawyers and magistrates and aldermen, and then it was all done, only the old man weren’t dead. John asked if Dutch was going to kill him, but Dutch just laughed and said I ain’t a murderer, I’m a philanthropist, and Hosea said that’s my old dad you’re talking about, and now John isn’t sure. But Arthur said it’s like a game, don’t you worry, and when the old man dies we’ll take his house, and now he’s dead. John squeezes a little tighter around Arthur’s middle, and tugs himself closer in the saddle.

They’re riding through the grand part of town now, the part where every house has three floors and curly carvings on the windowsills and a pretty little tree out front all its own. John remembers sleeping here one night last summer, after Pa died, in a little stand of apple trees behind one of the mansions. He ate the hard little apples off the ground till his stomach hurt, and fell asleep in a shed, and in the morning an old African man came along and told him to run or he’d be in a pile of trouble, so John ran. He’s scanning the houses as they pass, trying to remember which one it was with the apples and the old man who said to run.

The house where Ashville died is cold, and it smells like dust. John watches Arthur and Dutch and Hosea and Miss Grimshaw striding through the halls, crowing and laughing and saying Shakespeare, and looks to see if he can spot the place where the old man died. But there’s no blood on the floors or the furniture, just warm leather and shiny velvet and wood that gleams like gold when Dutch pulls back the heavy curtains and lets the winter sun spill over the room.

“Merry Christmas,” Dutch booms, and Hosea says “hear, hear,” and John wonders if the ghosts can hear them too.

Arthur takes him upstairs. Upstairs is a row of rooms, each the size of a house, each full of cobwebs and dead beetles and beds with heavy ceilings. Arthur tugs the curtains aside in each room while John sneezes in the bright dust and pokes at the silky wallpaper.

Then Miss Grimshaw comes up the winding staircase and sets them to work, hauling carpetbags up the stairs and beating dust out of the duvets with an old broom from the kitchen. She snaps orders like a policeman and drags John by her iron knuckles to a room at the end of the musty hall and tells him it’s his. John suspects a trap, but Arthur laughs and says I ain’t bunkin’ with you no more, and John understands. After supper that night, when Dutch and Hosea pop open a bottle of wine they found in the cellar and Arthur starts singing and Hosea says John can’t have any wine and Dutch says it’s all right and Grimshaw says it ain’t, John sneaks upstairs to the Room That’s His, and wonders when they’ll drop him at the orphanage.

He’s lying in the dust, watching moonlight crawl over the tall windows, when he hears the voice. It doesn’t sound like Dutch or Hosea or Arthur, but it’s a man, and it’s saying his name.

John.

John stands up. The door to the hallway opens, opens without him touching it, and on the other side’s a man who looks familiar. He’s not tall and he’s not short, with a little mustache and a fancy suit, and his hat reaches towards the ceiling and his eyes are fixed on John’s heart and not his face.

“John,” he says, “I’ve missed you.”

Then his face swells and melts. His eyes are hot black hollows, crawling with white worms, blood pouring out his mouth. John watches the river of black gore, swimming down his front, running over the rich, dusty carpet, the smell of shit rising thick and hot around him, and the man twitches and moans and heaves. Blood pouring out his mouth. John tries to scream and he can’t scream, he can’t breathe, and the smell of blood and shit makes him gag and retch, and the blood keeps coming, a black waterfall streaming from the strange man’s face as he sways and leers and shimmers in the dark.

“John!”

Someone’s holding his shoulders, shaking him. There’s carpet under his feet, warm and soft, and he gags, and hears Arthur say shit.

He opens his eyes. He’s in the dark, in the hallway, and Arthur’s here in a big white shirt with his hair mussed up from sleep. He’s got John by the shoulders, and he’s got an odd look on his face, like something bad is happening, and John wonders if it’s happening to him.

He looks worried, John realizes with a muffled shock.

“You okay?” he’s asking, and John shakes his head before he can think about it. His heart’s beating like an army drum. He thinks he can feel it shaking his whole body. He steps from foot to foot on the swampy carpet, and realizes his pants are wet. “What happened,” Arthur asks.

John’s stomach jerks and twists inside of him. If he tells Arthur the truth, he’ll be gone by morning.

Arthur’s hand’s at the back of his head, in his hair, steady and warm.

“Come on, kid.”

John sucks in air.

“It was him,” he whispers. “It was the devil.”

Blood pouring out his mouth.

Arthur sighs, a little sound that’s almost a laugh, and says, “There ain’t no devil here. You had a dream.” He leans in, smelling like wine and horse, and pats John on the back, one arm around him pressing close, his scratchy chin brushing against John’s forehead. John thinks it’s a hug. He doesn’t know what that means.

“I ain’t good,” John starts to tell him—heart in his stomach, stomach in his throat. “I’m crazy an’ I’m bad an’ I got the devil in me an’ he follows me an’ last year he made me shoot a man till his brains came out through his nose an’ the nuns’ll give me back to him,” but Arthur stops him, hand on his cheek, shaking his head and saying no, no, forget all that, you’re dreamin’, there ain’t no devil and there ain’t no nuns here. You’re home now, John. Forget that.

In the end, Arthur picks John up like he’s a kid, and John’s too tired to complain. He wraps his arms around Arthur’s neck and lets him carry him down the hall, away from the room with the devil’s blood soaking into the floor and into Arthur’s room, where there’s a heap of orange coals in the hearth and a wooly blanket that Arthur wraps him in once his sodden pants are gone. They sit by the fire, John a mute cocoon and Arthur more than half asleep, and Arthur pulls out his notebook and shows John a funny drawing of a man with an apple for a head.

John thinks about home.

“You’re a good kid,” Arthur says, his voice soft and silly. He’s drunk. “Dutch ain’t gonna send you back, y’know.”

John’s throat aches like there’s someone punching it. His cheeks are hot, lit up by the fire and the tears spilling up and over his eyelids. He can’t answer back. He thinks about a flat plain, gray grass wrinkled by the wind, and a heap of rocks at the edge of a hill. He can’t get the picture out of his head. Can’t get the devil’s voice out of his throat.

“You’re home,” Arthur says, and the warmth of the fire swallows him up, and he sobs into Arthur’s side for a long time.

Down the hallway, in the darkness, the door swings silently open and shut.

#rdr secret santa 2020 #rdr2 #john marston #arthur morgan #rdr2 fic #we got some christmas here and we got some wild handwaving towards the background plot i had in mind but didnt have the energy to write #this really might not make sense but it is gifted with love to my perfect wife

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the-darklings · 4 years

Text

—𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒆 [01];

—PART I. | GASOLINE GIRL

pairing: santino d’antonio x f!reader

word count: 6.2k+

summary: “Carry that ice in your heart, always.”

warnings: mentions of: child abuse, drug abuse, death/torture; swearing, typical mafia-related situations/discussions so take heed because this is a mature read for sure. But we gotta be realistic, this life ain’t pretty.

notes: so this can be read as a standalone though I do consider it a sort of mini sister series to COA. This will be short (no more than 5 parts) and only updated when I have free time. That being said, I do hope you enjoy. I even flexed my none existent photoshop skills to make the header pic lol. Get ready this one is going to be a ride.

You don’t become a part of Camorra by choice.

No one sane enough would.

Your parents simply got involved with people who would have had you killed if they stepped out of the line. You know because that was a threat made with you in the room and a cold, merciless barrel of a gun pressed to your head.

Giovanni D’Antonio’s men came at night, dragging you and your parents out of bed in nothing but your nightclothes. They made you kneel on the dusty floor, your knees aching against the hardness of the wood.

The man himself is as awful as you heard people on the streets whisper. Everyone fears him. Fears him and Camorra and the terrors they unleash onto anyone who doesn’t fall in line.

“Such pity you didn’t have a son,” the head of Camorra notes dispassionately as he scrutinises you, his fingers digging painfully into the flesh of your cheeks. “What am I suppose to do with a girl?”

The man tsks as if some grave crime has been committed against him and takes a long drag of his cigar, turning your head from side to side. Your squirm, knees knocking, your lips trembling, but don’t let him see fear. You can’t afford to let this vile, cruel man who asked his men to beat your father to a bloody heap on the floor to see you weak. You can’t show predator fear if you want to live. Not when your mother is already a sobbing mess on the floor, clutching onto your father in despair.

You wonder if he’s alive. A part of you—

A part of you doesn’t care to know because the man before you stares at you with such finely veiled disgust, you can’t help but know that he will kill you all regardless. He might even enjoy giving the order. And your father is to blame for that.

“Are you at least smart, girl?” he demands and slaps you lightly on the cheek when you don’t respond. “Answer me. Or I will cut your tongue out, and then you will know what it’s like not having the gift of speech. Or maybe I will start with your parents instead.”

Your mother cries harder, practically hysterical and you feel a sting of bitterness, of anger, deep in your chest. She should be strong.

She should be defending you.

But she isn’t. She’s just crying. As if that’s going to save you, protect you, keep these men away.

“You will kill us all anyway,” you whisper knowingly, your words hollow as you stare into those dark, cold eyes that have no end. “They stole from you and you hate thieves.”

The man exhales smoke directly into your face but you don’t flinch—not even as your eyes water from the sting of tobacco, not even when he leans his malign, handsome face closer.

“But I reward loyalty,” he tells you, now almost pleasant, and his thick fingers tilt your chin up as he regards you critically. “Do you understand what I’m saying, hm?”

You nod once.

Giovanni is quiet and thoughtful but then a slight smile creeps across his face.

It’s the most awful sight you have ever seen.

“Then we are done here,” he announces and his hand drops away from your face, his dark gaze lifting over your slight frame and towards the men hovering in the shadows, awaiting orders.

Two shots follow.

You don’t flinch.

The sobs cease.

Giovanni’s grim smile widens, pleased.

“Come along, girl. You no longer have family here.”

. . .

Camorra is a pit.

A pit of betrayal and blood and drugs and more blood.

The first four months are near unbearable.

You’re younger than what they usually recruit and it shows. You don’t know how to navigate this world. You’ve been dropped off at a “care home” that operates more like a drug house but has to keep up a front for the public. Which, in itself, is hilarious because you doubt there is anyone in the nearby province who doesn’t know what this place is.

But it’s survival of the fittest here.

And it’s not a game you know how to play well.

Each person is given a task, a job, and you must do it or you will be punished. Severely.

Giovanni left you here, in this hellhole, with a dismissive hum and a harsh pat on the head, “Let’s see what you make of yourself, gasoline girl.”

Gasoline girl.

Because he didn’t bother asking for your real name. Because he gave you a canister of gasoline and told you to pour it through your house, onto your dead parents, and gave you the remains of his cigar, his order clear.

You watched your home go up in smoke, your parents’ bodies still inside, with gnawing detachment eating away at your heart, your soul.

The flame was hot and bright and Giovanni made you watch till there was nothing left but ash and ruin.

“Little gasoline girl,” he had said then, even more pleased. “Carry that ice in your heart, always. It will take you far in my family.”

The care home, however, is a desolate place that lacks warmth your home had—that lacks anything resembling anything humane, in fact. The only reason why you’re not drugged that very first night is because Giovanni told his men that you are too young for such a thing. Because he wants to see if you can be useful, your mind as sharp as he hopes it is.

But if you disobey…

It doesn’t frighten you, not at first, not until you see them. Those with sunken eyes and pale skin. Lips cracked and limbs trembling. They no longer have wills or dreams or aspirations. They are tools, shells, empty of everything that once made them human. Riddled with pain and despair that plagues them till their next fix or death.

They frighten you so much you hide away in the attic. You’re not sure how you find your way up there but you curl on the floor—in the darkest, deepest hole you can find—and sob and sob and sob into the dust and the dirt. Sob till your eyes are swollen and your throat is raw.

You rip and tear the girl you once were to shreds that night. Because even then, you know, that you will not survive long like this. That this dark pit will consume you unless you find a way to survive, to fight back.

Carry that ice in your heart, always.

You intend to.

You will.

. . .

Next four months are consistent of a few things: death, blood, drugs and violence.

It’s everywhere you look, all you hear at all times of day and night, and you can’t escape it.

There is nowhere to go, nowhere to hide—not when Camorra owns this city. Not when Giovanni knows you by face, if not by name—something that’s a rare honour, you learn later, seeing the Boss in person. Being handpicked by him.

Money laundering, sex, drug distribution, torture; the care home cycles through it all on a daily basis.

Hunger becomes part of the routine, the attic your new home.

You exist in the shadows out of fear, at first. Then, you realize how much power comes from being unseen. If you are unseen, then you can never be hurt, never be abused.

Not like so many—young, so young—always are.

There is nothing glorious about this life. It’s just survival.

Ugly and filthy and dangerous.

So you listen and hide and learn.

The staff—mostly men who are loud and rowdy but follow the rules because they fear the Boss too much, and few older women—start calling you a ghost.

You don’t mind. Not even at all.

It’s better than being actually dead.

. . .

The first time you meet him, you’ve been at the care home for little over a year.

The sounds of pain, pleasure, and death no longer scare you at night.

They have become your reality. Your own twisted, lewd lullaby in a way.

Violence and hate. Pleasure and pain. Greed and death.

They have become levers and cornerstones upon which you have built stability and routine.

Giovanni is coming tonight, the people in the hallways whisper in hushed breaths that morning though, and if anything is out of place blood will be shed.

You haven’t seen him in a year.

You’ve grown and hardened, killed as many soft parts of yourself as you could since the last time you saw him.

You have also become useful.

So normal, so sweet-looking, so unassuming.

Like a ghost the staff compares you to, you haunt the streets and collect information for Camorra; the perfect little spy.

You nurture that ice in your heart and project it outward, and when Giovanni comes and calls forth everyone at the care home, you hold your chin up; unmoving, stiff-backed, and defiant.

Much to your surprise, his dark gaze snags on you and he pauses in his step, recognition reflecting back at you.

The leader of the care home pauses too, hesitating, clearly unsure if he should comment until Giovanni speaks.

“So you lived.”

He sounds surprised, pleasantly so.

You don’t so much as blink.

“Santino.”

It is then, from the folds of Giovanni’s guard, that a boy steps through. He’s barely taller than you and clearly you are close in age, if not the same, you conclude as he steps beside his father.

His hair is dark and finely combed, his clothes neat and expensive, and he reeks of privilege even more so than his father.

He’s also terrible at hiding his thoughts. He’s repulsed to be here, he thinks it beneath him and being faced with this—grim, hungry faces and grime—he’s balking under the stark contrast to his no doubt princely life at home.

He is the prince of Camorra—every bit as spoiled and arrogant as you expected him to be.

You hate him on sight.

“What do you see?” Giovanni asks his son as the two stand before you.

Santino’s dark brows furrow and he blinks slowly, looking you up and down. There isn’t much to you. Your clothes are dirty and worn, your features no doubt hostile and your gaze even worse. It’s how you keep yourself safe. Snarl and bite first. Some men like to mutter “rabid dog” under their breaths as you pass in the hallways, but you’re fine with that, too. Even when they make offhand comments that only one thing happens to rabid dogs eventually.

“A nobody, father.”

Oh?

Giovanni sighs, disappointed, and Santino sees this, scrambling for something else to add, “She’s—she’s a girl.”

“Obviously,” the man says, his voice bored, dismissive, and Santino’s expression falls, his eyes lowering. But the older man is still staring at you. “Keep that ice in your heart, gasoline girl,” he reminds you, mild but stern.

He walks away without another word, going back to business in a blink.

His son lingers for a breath, his eyes jumping up and finally meeting yours.

He looks resentful. He’s blaming you for his father’s disappointment in him. He thinks that you are to blame for the failed test.

He looks at you like you are beneath him, like you are less, a nobody he accused you of being.

His eyes are vivid green.

Green as your mother’s garden. Green as the oak that used to sway outside your window.

Green as the grass you used to roll around in when spring flowers bloomed behind your house.

You hate him even more, then.

For the reminder.

Santino D’Antonio stares at you for another long, hateful moment until his father calls him.

He surprises you by hesitating, still staring, but you only glare at him. Openly, without fear and with clear contempt.

I hate you. I hate you and everything you stand for—everything that you are. You will never know what it’s like to be hungry or cold or scared. What it is to kill and survive.

You dismiss him. A simple sweep of your eyes over his shoulder.

He exhales sharply at your defiance.

You wonder if anyone has ever defied him before and not been severely punished for it.

It makes you feel alive, for a moment, that spark of disobedience.

It’s perhaps the most real you have felt since that night with your knees in the dirt.

The weight of his stare is suffocating and you feel seen, beheld in a way that strips you down to your core.

“Santino.”

Giovanni’s voice is a subtle, cutting blade and his son jerks after him like dog on a leash.

You hope you will never see him again.

. . .

Days turn into weeks, into months, and then years.

With each new day at Camorra, your heart ices over and over.

You meet people, and you lose even more of them.

It teaches you a lesson of not getting attached, of not caring, of things outside of yourself being fragile and breakable.

First there’s Nari. Too sweet, too kind, and with circumstances that are a bit too similar to your own. Is it any wonder he seeks you out? Any wonder that you let him close? Becoming his friend seems inevitable when you’ve been lonely for so long.

He gets shot on a drug run gone wrong six months after meeting you. There is nothing left of him for you to remember him by. There’s only memories of dark, midnight hair and his wheezy, shrill laugh that you always told him was annoying.

Then, a few years later comes Lucie. You’re a part of the home by then. There is a place for you here; a strength and a steadily rising reputation attached to your person. The pain-soaked hallways are familiar and your own now because you claimed them as such. Attic is no longer a hole to hide in but your home, your sanctuary, your dark throne.

She’s too beautiful and too gentle to survive this place. You know it from the moment you see her. It takes one look to know that this place will gobble her up and spit her back out, crushed and broken.

But there is something about her. Something about the ring of her laughter and the spark in her eyes. The shade of her long hair that reminds you of your mother. Something about the way she trusts you, relies on you, and believes in you. Looks at you as a friend, as a companion, salvation. How during the cold, bleak nights she seeks your warmth and dreams out loud of the life you will have once you both break free of Camorra. Once you find a way to make an honest living. She dreams of a world far bigger and grander than you’ve ever had.

Your dreams are simple: survive, become a nightmare that sweeps through the ranks of Camorra.

Lucie dreams of a home by the sea with three chickens, a cow, and a loving family.

“I want a big one,” she reveals one night, turning to face you with a serious frown. “At least four kids.”

You suppress a shiver. Seeing what you have seen, living through what you have, you can’t imagine having a family. Not one that big, at least. But perhaps it’s because you haven’t felt safe in so very long that any extension of yourself will always feel like a weakness opposed to strength.

“Sounds painful.”

She laughs; a soft, soothing sound as she rests her cheek against your shoulder with a faint smile. “They will have an amazing, scary aunt to look after them. I’m not worried.”

It’s quiet for a moment before she speaks again. “What about you?”

Noting your blank stare, she adds, “Don’t you want a family? Or at least someone to call your own?”

“No,” you shoot back stiffly, and take another deliberate bite of your soggy bread. “People you love can be used against you. Hurt because of you, or by you. If I love them,” you pause, the word foreign on your tongue. “I won’t want them to suffer because of me. If I’m hurting them, then it’s not love at all.”

It’s silent for a long time.

“Sometimes,” Lucie whispers eventually with a sad, quiet sigh. “I can’t help but think that they’re one and the same.”

You think about that for a while.

Think about how her father used to beat her mother but they still stayed. Think about how that takes a special kind of bravery and strength. How despite that, he was a loving father to Lucie. How sometimes humans can be ugly and awful but have some semblance of good in them, too. How good can be done by bad and bad can be done by good.

“I suppose.”

She blinks up at you. “Well if I have a family, then you have to have one as well.”

Your lips curve and it feels strange on your face. “Is that so?”

She nods but her eyes are full of mirth. “We’re both going to be fat and pregnant with swollen ankles and awful cravings. Promise?”

Her eyes are full of dreams, full of light you have never seen before.

You try to protect that light, try to hide her away from the men who would hurt her, from the women who would drug her and bargain her away.

It’s foolish and reckless of you but you are almost frenzied with the need to keep something good alive. For once, you just need—

She gets taken.

It’s planned in advance, you learn later.

They had to get you out of the house first. They lied—a job straight from the high tier of Camorra, from the elite itself, no refusals—and used that time you were away to take her.

What they did—

They pay for it.

Everyone in the care home that had anything to do with it, anyone who knew.

You tear ten people apart. Slowly; piece by piece, muscle by muscle, sinew by sinew. Over the years you have found new talents, new hobbies. Ghost is an old name they called you around the house.

But you have others you prefer now.

When it’s done, you stalk through the too silent house, covered in cooling blood and—

You’re not sure how much of it is from the people you just killed and how much is from—

Lucie is where you found her.

Your eyes sting as you gaze at the sight in front of you. You gather her in your arms gently and even if it’s a slog, slow and painful, you take her to the tiny bathroom down the hall.

You wash her hair of dirt and blood and—

Tears fall heavy and hot the entire time you work and you have to pause in-between, choking down your sobs.

Her body is next. Wetting a cloth in your hand, you clean her skin, fold her hands over her chest, ignoring the broken bones and broken skin.

You’re glad it’s late spring.

The ground is softer, more pliable.

Despite that, it still takes you four hours to dig a grave deep enough. Your hands are numb, bloodied and blistered by the time you’re done. The stench of sweat and death mixes with the blood but you ignore it.

Lowering her takes time—time and care and self-control. Because she’s so cold, so stiff, and it’s awful knowing that you will never see her again after this.

You bury dreams and hopes and aspirations with her—both hers and yours. A handful of dirt at the time. Your hands are raw but you force yourself to keep going.

And when it’s done, you collapse beside the grave and stay there for hours, days, maybe weeks.

It starts raining and you let the freezing spring rain wash over you. The smell of wet earth and grass drags you into hazy dreams. They transform into feverish nightmares eventually, haunting you and killing you over and over again. You failed. Failed to protect something good. Maybe saving Lucie was only partially about saving her—an innocent—from this awful fate, and more about…

More about some vague, distant belief—hope—that you could be saved, too.

Grief splits you apart and suffocates you with every breath as you lay beside the fresh grave.

Grief. You’re not sure if you even grieved your parents. Not really. Because they were dead and you still had an uncertain future ahead of you. You grieved a life you could have had. But it’s been so long. So very long now.

Time is not a concept you can understand any longer.

By the time they find you, a part of you wishes they would just let you die and bury you beside your friends. Let you rest at long last.

But there are voices.

A foot nudges you as you roll over onto your back with a heavy thud. Dark sky stretches out above you.

Then, through a haze, a face appears, peering down at your with mild disinterest.

Recognition; it comes fierce and sharp and you know it’s the same for him.

Urgent, angry voices blur together as everything fades away into nothing.

You fucking hate those green eyes.

. . .

When you wake up, the Devil is standing over you.

Giovanni D’Antonio lifts a single eyebrow, not bothering to mask his cool distaste at your wheezing, delirious state.

You scramble upwards anyway, wincing at the ringing in your head and the popping in your ears.

You feel heavy and fuzzy in the worst way possible—the way that makes one slow and vulnerable. Nausea rolls your stomach, mixing with the instinctual fear of seeing who is standing above you.

“What a mess,” Giovanni drawls and hitches his trousers up as he sits down on a creaky chair beside your cot. “What a mess, gasoline girl.”

You’re sweating but feel so cold your body trembles and you can’t hide it. This man should never see you vulnerable but he is right now and you hate your own weakness.

“Who knew you had such a gift for death,” he continues and you swallow, your throat raw—from crying, from screaming and howling at the sky, you recall through your delirium—and you tremble again. “Ten dead. So easy, too. And such…brutality.”

If you didn’t know any better you would say he’s paying you a compliment—that he’s impressed.

The man reaches into his pocket and your bandaged hands—why are they bandaged, what—constrict around the fresh, cotton sheets covering you.

Cotton. You haven’t touched something as soft, as luxurious, as cotton since that last night you slept in your own bed years ago.

But Giovanni pulls out a cigar holder from his pocket instead of a gun, offering it to you. You don’t move, hardly breathe, as you stare at him through your watery eyes. Your ears are still ringing.

“I asked others about what happened,” he begins after lighting his cigar. He rolls it between his thick fingers, his golden rings gleaming and you shudder. “What justified ten of my own slaughtered like barn animals. So rethink lying to me, if that was your intention, girl. Let me start with something easy, though: was the girl your lover?”

Your eyes find his and perhaps it’s the fever, or the hole in your soul, but you don’t look away even when his eyes narrow on you.

He doesn’t understand. Of course, he doesn’t. As if a man like him could ever understand what it’s like to be so lost and raw with loneliness your heart is ready to crumble away at the gentlest of touches. As if everything in this world has to be about physicality and desire. As if care and loyalty can’t come from a place of love that has nothing to do with gratification of the body.

“No.”

“Then why did you kill them?”

“Because they deserved it,” you croak out, and your voice cracks as you pant for breath. Your head spins and you drop back against the wall even as your chest rattles with a loud, wet cough. Giovanni waits, expectant, and your eyes narrow. Let him kill you after. But he will hear this, if he wants truth so badly. “They deserved it for what they d-did to her. It—those m-monsters. She was sixteen. And they did it on purpose. Because they enjoyed it. I would—I would do it again gladly. Over and over again till there is nothing left of them to bury. Till—till only pieces remain and even then it would be too kind.”

The bloodlust is surging through you like a river after the fresh spring rain, untamed and wild, and you struggle for breath. The regret that you didn’t take longer, hurt them more—

And perhaps that makes you a monster. No—you know it does. But you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Better to be a monster than a coward. Better to be alive and hated than loved but dead.

Giovanni exhales, his lips pressing into a displeased line. “So naive,” he mutters and takes another drag. “I figured the home would have eroded that away by now. Shame.”

You gape at him, shivering but silent. It’s like he’s reached down your throat and robbed you of speech.

“What do you think happens to people like that girl, hm?” he wonders out loud, slanting his head just so. Even with his hair starting to grey, he’s still handsome, still electric to look at. It’s the coldness of that dark, bottomless stare that sets him apart from others you have met. “She was no better than your parents. Weak. And weak do not survive in this world, they are used and that’s how we live. You could have been like her, but you fought back. That’s why I told you to keep that ice in your heart, yes? There are thousands like that girl and there will be a thousand more, and a thousand more after that. It is the way of the world. I am simply…reaping.”

His cigar flares at the tip again as Giovanni takes a steady drag, savouring the burn of it against the back of his throat.

You want to cry and scream and tear at him. This world—his world—is wrong and twisted and—

But you have chosen it, haven’t you?

Better than being dead.

And you’ve killed and stolen and lied and cheated for years now. You’ve gotten good at it. Better than most. Better than anyone in the home had been.

“Did it break you?”

Your eyes drag back to him, and you realise that you’ve been silent for so long, you’ve started to doze off. Laying in the rain for god knows how long didn’t do you much good. You feel worse and worse with every second that stretches by.

His emotionless question clatters through you though, settling in the pit of your stomach.

Lucie.

Her happy smile flashes through your weary mind and you try to draw breath into your wrecked lungs.

“No.”

It has only made you colder and emptier, you realise. You had laid next to Lucie’s grave because you had hoped for a quick end. But—

But no.

For the second time in your life, you lift your head and look the Devil in the eyes as you choose life.

Whatever form it comes in.

Regardless of what else it will demand of you.

Perhaps, you should be thankful for this lesson.

The head of Camorra nods once, considering you, and then asks a serious, “Do you remember what I told you about loyalty, gasoline girl?”

I reward loyalty.

“Yes.”

It’s an effort to keep your eyes on him. His features are blurring, and you can’t even smell the thick cloud of smoke in the air anymore.

“Who were you loyal to when you killed my people? Your people?”

You don’t hesitate, spitting out a vicious, “To myself. Just as you wanted me to be.”

For a moment, you think that Giovanni D’Antonio will smile at you again. But he doesn’t. Instead, he turns towards the shadows of the room.

“What do you see, Santino?”

You still. You’ve been so preoccupied with keeping yourself awake and lucid, with keeping your whole attention on this man without scruples normal people have that—

It comes rushing back.

The grave, the smell of dirt beneath your cheek, rain, the coldness sinking deep into your bones, green eyes—

He was the one who found you. You have no idea how; a part of you doesn’t want to know, either.

He’s changed as well. His frame stretches taller, leaner, than the last time you saw him. His hair is slightly longer but still curly and neatly combed. That boyish roundness still holds his features, giving him an appearance of a youth instead of a young man and you stare at him with open, dazed animosity.

But there is something about the way he watches you from the shadows.

His pupils are blown wide open when he steps closer into the light, his shoulders coiled with tension that you have no name for.

He gazes at you like he is looking at something beautiful, something terrible, something—

Something he admires and hates and doesn’t understand.

No one has ever looked at you like that. Like they’re seeing right into you, through you, pulling apart every weakness and every strength.

That anger in your chest ignites at the sight of him, washing away the emptiness and the loss.

“A monster.”

It seizes a part of you. Cracks it to pieces.

You hate him, you hate him, you hate the fact that he—

That he sees you. Just like last time, just like now.

Giovanni’s eyebrows rise slowly at his son’s blunt assessment. He peers at Santino for a pensive moment before the boy finally drags his eyes towards his father, almost reluctantly so.

“Loyalty to yourself, was it, girl?” the man wonders calmly and takes another drag of his cigar. It’s almost gone now and black spots dance in your vision as you watch him tilt his chin upwards and exhale another lazy puff of smoke. “Give me your hand.”

You stare at him blankly, uncomprehending, almost nauseous now.

Giovanni turns his stern face back towards you and holds out his own large hand. “Your hand.”

His voice is eerily serene but it locks your muscles with fear. Like an animal being hunted down, even with your hazy, sluggish mind you still recognise the danger crowding in.

But what’s the alternative?

Your hand shakes but you hold it out, setting your jaw taut.

“I reward loyalty,” Giovanni reminds evenly, grasping your hand in his. His hold feels so cold you shiver. “But you still killed ten able bodies. Bodies I will now have to replace.”

“Father—”

Giovanni jerks your hand, palm up, and sinks his cigar right into the skin of your palm, burning right through the thin bandage.

Agony.

Splitting, sickening agony—

A sound that tears out of your throat is hardly human but the man has your arm in an iron-like grip; unmoving, bruising. You collapse face-first onto the cot, your scream growing silent and choked as you jerk weakly, unable to swallow your own spit.

Your hand is numb from a piercing, acute sort of pain.

Giovanni hums under his breath, and you feel him turn the cigar into your skin, making you yelp and twitch. “I hope you live,” he states coldly and pushes the cigar deeper into your palm, just once, before he drops your hand back onto the sheets. “There are a great many things I can do with that ice in your heart, gasoline girl.”

You don’t hear him rise over the sound of your pain. Your hand is spasming but you can’t look at it, can’t focus—

The door slams shut with a deafening bang and then—

Someone is speaking; hushed and soft, their hands on you, almost—

You barely manage to pull yourself over the edge of the cot and throw up before everything goes dark.

. . .

You’re burning.

There is a raging fire in your lungs and veins.

Your head is being held under a liquid flame, and you inhale it as it slithers down your throat, suffocating you.

You want to drag your nails down your body to get rid of the burn but you can’t. Someone—

Someone is holding you down and your lips part, a wounded sound slipping free. Why can’t you just be free?

A heavy weight pushes down on you and you try to fight it off, try to—

“Stop moving,” a voice urges, breathless but annoyed. “Stop—”

You think that you might be crying or screaming or both.

You’re burning.

There is no relief.

Not for a long time.

. . .

“Will she live?”

“It’s hard to say right now. The infection—”

An inpatient exhale. “I know what her condition is,” an irritated voice snaps. “I want to know if she will live.”

“I will try my hardest to save her.”

A lengthy pause follows. “No,” the voice speaks again, but this time with such soft malice that you shiver again. “My father wants her alive and so she will live. Or you will find yourself without a head, dear doctor. As will your family.”

. . .

Cool fingers brush against your hair.

“Lucie?” you rasp weakly and try to open your eyes.

Everything blurs around you so you let them close again.

Sickness cramps your stomach and you shiver for what seems like the hundredth time.

Still, the sensation of a glass pressing against your lips registers. Urgent, insistent. “Drink.”

It’s an order. Spoken by someone who is used to being listened to, obeyed, heeded.

You don’t want to but you’re so thirsty. There’s a painful itch in your lungs and you inhale again, deafened by the crackling in your lungs. Whatever it is that you’re wearing clings to your body in a sweaty, uncomfortable mess and you almost sigh when those cool fingers return. They press against your cheek, turning your head and the glass returns.

This time, you force your cracked lips to part and refreshing wetness slides down your throat seconds later. Flinching, you force yourself to swallow. The sensation is like a knife being forced down your chest but you bear it.

The fingers tilt your chin. “Slowly.”

You manage another few, shaky mouthfuls before your strength escapes you.

“Are you—”

The fragility of your own cracking voice might have disgusted you once. There had been plenty of times in the past when you had seen and heard Fredricko peeling back peoples’ fingernails to get the information he needed. That often resulted in such weakness—such fragility. Now though—

“Are you…”

Something freezing cold and wet comes to rest against your forehead and you sigh, gasping slightly. A wet cloth. A miracle, perhaps. It soothes the burning and the itch. It trails down your forehead and jaw and neck. Brushes over your dry lips, too. You almost sob in relief, making a miserable little whine at the back of your throat.

“Are…”

A quiet hum. “Am I what?”

“An angel?”

The cloth disappears for a few moments and you curl into a ball, silently willing it to come back.

A few moments later, mercifully, it does. As does the voice. “No.”

You lean into the refreshing cold again. Try to hide your disappointment, too.

The cloth presses against your forehead and stays there. A beat. Then, fingers ghost over your tightly clenched hand. Your other hand—

There is only numbness there.

An odd sense of fear follows that foggy observation. Like you’re forgetting something you shouldn’t—something important.

The fingers are delicate and careful but they help. They pacify that nameless, gnawing dread.

“Would you like me to be?”

There is a long moment in which you have no idea what the voice is asking. But your muddy mind finally manages to claw back a recollection of your earlier question.

An angel.

You think that the owner of this voice is an idiot.

He no doubt thinks that you mean a guardian angel. Something holy, fierce, and divine.

But you had meant the Angel of Death. Finally here to take you. Finally here to reunite you with those you have lost.

But is there any difference anymore?

You’ve been half-dead and half-alive for years now.

A foot on the doorway to death ever since that fateful night. You have embraced it though. Bargained and stolen and killed. What you did for Lucie was just a fraction, you think through the delirium, just a fraction of what you can do.

You will turn that ice in your heart into a blade, and that blade you will use to cut down anyone in your path.

No half-measures, no mercy. You will be as terrible as they want you to be.

You will be the most terrible thing they have ever seen.

And when it’s done.

Oh, when it’s done.

You will set it all on fire and watch it burn.

“Yes.”

The fingers pause, hovering. Then they wrap around your still clenched hand. Slow but purposeful.

And the tightness of that grip makes you think that your hand will never be your own again.

. . .

an: wellllllllllllll, here’s that! Warning you all now that, yes, this story will get even more twisty and Santino/V will be hate-to...uh...love? We’ll see, I guess lol. Some familiar faces will appear in the future, too. And, uh, maybe some smuttiness is on the cards as well but you know how I roll - nothing too wild or explicit because this clown sucks at nsfw.

Also because I have no idea when or how often this mini-series will be updated, I will be opening up a tag list for this series ONLY (I rarely do them because they’re often more work than they’re worth). So please feel free to comment or send me a message and I’ll add you. Thank you so much for reading!! Any feedback would be swell. <33

#santino d'antonio x reader #santino d'antonio #john wick fic #john wick #john wick imagine #riccardo scamarcio #fic: flowing in me #s: i can wait

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p3ach3snplums · 3 years

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DANCING IN THE DARK WITH YOU BETWEEN MY ARMS

A Logan Hamilton and Neeja Anand Mix

Listen ( x )

@thcdarkling envio ♪ para un pequeño mix de nuestras muses

Perfect Symphony by Ed Sheeran and Andrea Bocelli

'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love Not knowing what it was I will not give you up this time But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own And in your eyes, you're holding mine Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favourite song When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight

Take Me Dancing by The Maine

Give me thunder, give me lightning, and I will give you every part of me Take me dancing, get me fucked up. Play that old guitar an we will sing.

As Long As You´re Mine by Wicked Original Broadway Cast

Kiss me too fiercely Hold me too tight I need help believing You're with me tonight My wildest dreamings Could not foresee Lying beside you With you wanting me And just for this moment As long as you're mine I've lost all resistance And crossed some border line And if it turns out It's over too fast I'll make every last moment last As long as you're mine Maybe I'm brainless Maybe I'm wise But you've got me seeing Through different eyes Somehow I've fallen Under your spell And somehow I'm feeling It's up that I fell Every moment As long as you're mine I'll wake up my body And make up for lost time

Six Feet Under The Stars (Acoustic) by All Time Low

Meet me on Thames Street, I'll take you out Though I'm hardly worth your time In the cold you look so fierce But I'm warming up because the tension's like a fire We'll hit South Broadway in a matter of minutes And like a bad movie I'll drop a line Fall in the grave I've been digging myself But there's room for two, six feet under the stars

Porfa No Te Vayas by Beret & Morat

Recuerdo aquel verano que pasé contigo Y cada beso que nunca pasó Se viste de fantasma cuando estoy dormido Pasamos de repente del calor al frío Y tu recuerdo no se congeló Hoy no puedo creer que estés al lado mío Porque solo tú sabes Que se quedaron tantos besos al aire Solo tú sabes No sé vivir, que yo sin ti no soy nadie Porfa, no te vayas cuando salga el sol Cuando algún error me haga pasar por imprudente Los nervio' de bailar contigo juegan conmigo Porfa, no te vayas cuando intente hablar Y al tartamudear, na-na-na-nada te cuente Los nervios de bailar contigo juegan conmigo Porfa, no te vayas Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Porfa, no te vayas Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh

Primer Avión by Matisse & Camilo

Solo sé bailar si tu bailas conmigo Todo está tan mal si yo no estoy contigo, contigo ¿Por qué no vuelves hoy? Toma el primer avión No sabes como estoy Muriéndome de amor ¿Por qué no vuelves hoy? (¿Por qué no vuelves hoy?) Toma el primer avión (Toma el primer avión) No sabes como estoy Muriéndome de amor

No Hay Nadie Más by Sebastián Yatra

Recuerdo aquel día Como si fuera hoy No hay nada como ella Ni siquiera Me encontró Recuerdo, todavía La vez que la besé Fue mi primer amor Y ahora escribo su canción Hay algo más Inexplicable como su mirada Inigualable como la manera en que me cela Y trata de disimular que no está mal Voy a cuidarte por las noches Voy a amarte sin reproches Te voy a extrañar en la tempestad Y aunque existan mil razones para renunciar No hay nadie más No hay nadie más

Forever and Ever by He is We

You're my air, when I feel I can't breathe. Catching me, when I'm tripping over my feet. We'll get through this together. You're my smile, when I just want to cry. Make it all better as you kiss my sad eyes. I'm giving you my forever and ever.

On My Love by We The Kings

And I'll never break your heart on my love Follow you through the dark on my love Even if I do, I don't Even if I could, I won't Let you lose who you are Won't let you fall apart on my love And even if the years turn old and grey Even if your legs don't work the same And even if your mind forgets my name And even if the worst takes us through hell Even if you lose what you once held Even if you wait but there's no help And I'll be here, all for you And I'll be here, all for you

Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer

Kiss me, out of the bearded barley Nightly, beside the green, green grass Swing, swing, (swing, swing) swing the spinning step You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress Oh, kiss me, beneath the milky twilight Lead me out on the moonlit floor Lift your open hand Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance Silver moon's sparkling So kiss me

Adore You by Harry Styles

Honey (ah) I'd walk through fire for you Just let me adore you Oh, honey (ah) I'd walk through fire for you Just let me adore you Like it's the only thing I'll ever do Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

Why by Sabrina Carpenter

Tell me how we're not alike But we work so well and we don't even know why Funny how the stars crossed right 'Cause we work so well and we don't even know why You can call it fire and ice But we work so well and we don't even know why We don't even know why, no no We don't even know why, no no no

When You Look Me In The Eyes by The Jonas Brothers

When you look me in the eyes, And tell me that you love me Everything's alright, When you're right here by my side When you look me in the eyes, I catch a glimpse of heaven I find my paradise When you look me in the eyes

Something I Need by One Republic

And if you only die once, I wanna die withYou got something I need In this world full of people, there's one killing me And if we only die once (hey), I wanna die with you (You, you, you) You got something I need In this world full of people, there's one killing me And if we only die once (hey), I wanna die with you (You, you)

Everybody Talks by Neon Trees

It started with a whisper And that was when I kissed her And then she made my lips hurt I could hear the chit chat Take me to your love shack Mama's always gotta back track When everybody talks back

Shut Up and Dance by Walk The Moon

Oh don't you dare look back Just keep your eyes on me I said you're holding back She said shut up and dance with me This woman is my destiny She said oh oh oh Shut up and dance with me We were victims of the night The chemical, physical, kryptonite Helpless to the bass and the fading light Oh we were bound to get together Bound to get together She took my arm I don't know how it happened We took the floor and she said

I Will Follow You Into The Dark by Death Cab For Cutie

Love of mine Someday you will die But I'll be close behind I'll follow you into the dark No blinding light Or tunnels, to gates of white Just our hands clasped so tight Waiting for the hint of a sparkIf Heaven and Hell decide that they both are satisfied Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks Then I'll follow you into the dark

Say It First by Sam Smith

Come on baby, say it first I need to hear you say those words If I'm all that you desire, I promise there'll be fire I need to hear you say it first Come on baby, do your worst I know you'll take me higher So come on darling If you love me, say it first Say it, say it, say it Won't you say it to me? Say it, say it, say it Won't you say it to me?

Kiss The Girl by Ashley Tisdale

There you see her Sitting there across the way She don't got a lot to say But there's something about her And you don't know why But you're dying to try You wanna kiss girl Yes, you want her Look at her, you know you do It's possible she wants you too There's one way to ask her It don't take a word, not a single word Go on and kiss the girl (kiss the girl) Sha-la-la-la-la-la My, oh my Looks like the boy's too shy Ain't gonna kiss the girl Sha-la-la-la-la-la Ain't that sad It's such a shame, too bad You're gonna miss the girl Go on and kiss the girl (kiss the girl)

Two Is Better Than One by Boys Like Girls & Taylor Swift

I remember what you wore on the first day You came into my life and I thought, hey You know this could be something 'Cause everything you do and words you say You know that it all takes my breath away And now I'm left with nothing So maybe it's true That I can't live without you And maybe two is better than one But there's so much time To figure out the rest of my life And you've already got me coming undone And I'm thinking two is better than one

Be Your Everything by Boys Like Girls

Four letter word But I don't have the guts to say it Smile til it hurts Lets not make it complicated We've got a story But I'm about to change the ending You're perfect for me You're more than just a friend so we can just stop pretending now I gotta let you know somehowI'll be your shelter I'll be your storm I'll make you shiver I'll keep you warm Whatever weather Baby I'm yours I'll be your forever, be your fling Baby I will be your everything

Más by Diego Boneta

Todo cambio cuando te vi Jamas imagine que habria Un corazón fuera de mi Sintiendo lo que yo sentia Fue tu voz tus labios tal vez Tu forma de ser de niña y mujer Tan solo se que hoy te quiero. Más te quiero mas de lo que quiero a la vida, Más si no te tengo a ti de que serviria, Más de que podria ya servir la respiración Muerto el corazón.

She Is by The Fray

She is everything I need That I never knew I wanted She is everything I want That I never knew I needed She is everything I need That I never knew I wanted She is everything I want That I never knew I needed

I Know Places by Taylor Swift

Baby, I know places we won't be found and They'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down 'Cause I, I, I, I know places we can hide I know places I know places

Little Things by One Direction

Your hand fits in mine like it's made just for me But bear this mind, it was meant to be And I'm joining up the dots with the freckles on your cheeks And it all makes sense to me I know you've never loved The crinkles by your eyes when you smile You've never loved your stomach or your thighs The dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine But I'll love them endlessly I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth But if I do, it's you Oh, it's you, they add up to I'm in love with you And all these little things

You And Me by Lifehouse

'Cause it's you and me And all of the people with nothing to do Nothing to lose And it's you and me And all of the people And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you What are the things that I want to say Just aren't coming out right? I'm tripping on words You got my head spinning I don't know where to go from here

La Correcta by Nabález & Morat

No pienso dar ni un paso atrás En el camino que me lleve hacia tus besos No pienso en eso, se los confieso Hoy me arriesgo a todo sin mirar atrás Si tú te vas, ya volverás Porque el destino sabe bien qué es lo correcto Y no habrá pretextos de espacio ni tiempo Solo formas nuevas de poder amar Te cuento que me encuentro ilusionado Y no puedo olvidarme ya de ella Te cuento que pasé mi vida entera Buscando lo que por fin he encontrado Sé que con otras yo me he equivocado Sé que he dado contra el mundo y he perdido la esperanza Porque aunque llevo cargas del pasado Cuando ella está a mi lado se equilibra la balanza Y nada me cansa

I Don´t Care by Ed Sheeran & Justin Bieber

'Cause I don't care when I'm with my baby, yeah All the bad things disappear And you're making me feel like maybe I am somebody I can deal with the bad nights When I'm with my baby, yeah Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh 'Cause I don't care as long as you just hold me near You can take me anywhere And you're making me feel like I'm loved by somebody I can deal with the bad nights When I'm with my baby, yeah Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

If I Can´t Have You by Shawn Mendes

I can't write one song that's not about you Can't drink without thinkin' about you Is it too late to tell you that Everything means nothing if I can't have you? I'm in Toronto and I got this view But I might as well be in a hotel room, yeah It doesn't matter 'cause I'm so consumed Spending all my nights reading texts from you Oh, I'm good at keepin' my distance I know that you're the feelin' I'm missing You know that I hate to admit it But everything means nothin' if I can't have you

Hearts Don´t Break Around Here by Ed Sheeran

She is the sweetest thing that I know Should see the way she holds me when the lights go low Shakes my soul like a pothole every time Took my heart upon a one way trip Guess she went wandering off with it And unlike most women I know This one will bring it back whole Daisies, daisies perched upon your forehead Oh my baby, lately I know That every night I'll kiss you, you'll say in my ear "Oh, we're in love, aren't we?" Hands in your hair Fingers and thumbs, baby I feel safe when you're holding me near Love the way that you conquer your fear You know hearts don't break around here Oh yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah

Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran

So honey now Take me into your loving arms Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars Place your head on my beating heart I'm thinking out loud Maybe we found love right where we are

Tu Refugio by Pablo Alborán

Soy desordenado cuando quiero No recogeré los besos que dejé anoche en tu cuello Somos un desastre pero es cierto, nos queremos Si pasas por mi lado, aún se congela el tiempo ¿Quién me iba a decir a mí que todo esto existiría? Déjame ser tu refugio, déjame que yo te ayudo Aguantémonos la vida, te recuerdo si lo olvidas Que hemos crecido peleando y sin quererlo nos gustamos ¡Cuántas cosas han pasado! Y ya no hay miedo de decir Te amo Te amo

Conexión by Lola Club

Hay una fuerza en ti que no me deja ir y me quiero quedar Sin destino, otro momento, me quedo mil vidas más Y es que no, no logro entender Que siento conocerte cada día más Es como si algo de adentro me quisiera abandonar Conexión tan rara y mística, quédate ya

Love is Easy by McFly

If this is love, then love is easy It's the easiest thing to do If this is love, then love completes me Cause it feels like I've been missing you A simple equation With no complications to leave you confused If this is love, love, love Oh it's the easiest thing to do

Quiero Decirte by Sebastián Yatra

Quiero decirte que te amo y que este amor es verdadero Quiero decirte tantas cosas y al final no diré nada Lo que yo quiero estará escrito en mi mirada Y te amo más que a nada Y te amo más que a nada Perdido solo, tanto frió en el amanecer Mi vida estaba en un vacío pero tú llegaste Porque tú llegaste Convertiremos en mañanas cada anochecer Y ya no siento ese vacío porque tú llegaste Porque tú llegaste Y es que hoy quiero aceptar No tuve nada y me lograste completar Desde hoy voy a jurar Lo que no puedo con palabras explicar

Cursi by División Minúscula

Acaso es mucho pedirte una razón Cuando sabes que eres tú La que tiene mi corazón Explícame por que no puedo ni hablar Y me pones a temblar Cada vez que estás cerca de mi No lo puedo resistir Mira lo que me haces escribir Y no se que decir Y no se que hacer Para que te puedas dar cuenta de que yo Estoy frente a ti Acaso es mucho escribirte esta canción Pues para mi no es tan común Estar en esta situación Si tan solo no fueras tan especial Y yo no tan informal Tal vez me acercara a ti Yo me siento tan cursi Mira lo que me haces escribir

Say It Now by We The Kings

And tired eyes just lay your head on me, And I'll be here until you fall asleep. The storm is getting closer, I won't leave. All the words I sing are whispers in your dreams. When I said I wanted it all, I wanted it all. It hurts more than ever, I won't give up now. And all that you are, is all that I need, I promised forever. So tell me it hurts, tell it burns, Tell me it's love and that you're ready to fall Into my arms or into the ground, It's lost or it's found, Whatever you need to say, say it now.

Presiento by Morat & Aitana

Yo te miro y todo me da vueltas, vueltas Y aunque admito que quiero volverte a ver Presiento que tú siempre vas y vienes Que nunca tienes nada que perder Rompiendo corazones te entretienes Y cuando das el tuyo es de papel Presiento que serás de esos errores De esos que estoy dispuesto a cometer Presiento que te vas y ya no vienes Yo olvido mis presentimientos Solo por volverte a ver Solo por volverte a ver Solo por volverte a ver Y aunque no entienda la razón No puedo ocultar que te quiero No puedo ocultar que te quiero Y sé que para mí es un obsesión Pero para ti es solo un juego Pero para ti es solo un juego

Fireproof by One Direction

I think I'm gonna lose my mind Something deep inside me, I can't give up I think I'm gonna lose my mind I roll, and I roll 'til I'm out of luck Yeah, I roll, and I roll 'til I'm out of luck I'm feeling something deep inside Hotter than a jet stream burning up I got a feeling deep inside It's taking, it's taking all I've got Yeah, it's taking, it's taking all I've got

A Daydream Away by All Time Low

We would go out on the weekend To escape our busy lives And we'd laugh at all the douche bag guys Chasing down their desperate wives I would drink a little too much You'd offer me a ride And I would offer you a t-shirt And you would stay another night

Fiesta para Dos by Lola Club

Y si esto se descontrola Se descontrola contigo Y si tú quieres tocarme Mi vida, te doy permiso Puedes hacer lo que quieras Aquí estamos solos Tú y yo Recuerda que pa' una fiesta chiquitita Nomás se necesitan dos

You and Only You by We The Kings

You and only you You make my heart feel like you're pulling every string You and only you You make me drop down to my knees and give this ring My everything Baby, once upon a time There was a million stars up high Now you're the only light I see And I don't care which way we go Teach me everything you know Everything a love should be So baby, just believe

How Long Will I Love You by Ellie Goulding

How long will I be with you? As long as the sea is bound to Wash upon the sand How long will I want you? As long as you want me to And longer by far

She (A Capella Mix) by We The Kings

She, when she cries Can the whole world fill the rain When we could lie Hell and heaven come to play She is the first and the last for me She is the everything between She is the darkness She is the daylight She is the calm She is the storm She is the moment The endless and only She is my all She is the one She is She, when she falls I will kiss her until she's clean She, when she breaks It's a gift she gives to me

Superstar by Taylor Swift

This is wrong, but I can't help but feel likeThere ain't nothing more right, babe Misty morning comes again and I can't Help but wish I could see your face I knew from the first note played I'd be breaking all my rules to see you You smile that beautiful smile And all the girls in the front row scream your name So dim that spotlight, tell me things like "I can't take my eyes off of you" I'm no one special, just another wide-eyed girl Who's desperately in love with you Give me a photograph to hang on my wall Superstar

Gold Rush by Taylor Swift

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you Walk past, quick brush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush Everybody wants you But I don't like a gold rush What must it be like To grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominos I see me padding 'cross your wooden floors With my Eagles t-shirt hanging from the door At dinner parties I call you out on your contrarian shit And the coastal town We wandered 'round had never Seen a love as pure as it And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea 'Cause you know it could never be

Cowboy Like Me by Taylor Swift

And you asked me to dance But I said, "Dancing is a dangerous game" Oh, I thought This is gonna be one of those things Now I know I'm never gonna love again

April 7th by The Maine

And I said When I'm with you, well, it's just like it's the first time Never thought that you would turn into my best life Before the blur, well, there you were Under the lights And I said When I'm with you, well, it's just like it's the first time I see you when I close my eyes I see you like I did that night Now underneath the hi-lo lights I see you there, I see you there I see you when I close my eyes I see you like I did that night Now underneath the hi-lo lights I see you there, I see you there And I said When I'm with you, well, it's just like it's the first time April 7th never meant as much as that night Before the blur, well, there you were Under the lights... Even when my heart stops beating Even when my eyes go blind All I need is your heartbeat beating Next to mine, next to mine, next to mine

Everything I Ask For by The Maine

It's always something But I can't get over it She thinks it's nothing Because she's Everything I ask for Everything I ask for And just a little bit more Everything I ask for

I Only Wanna Talk To You by The Maine

The only thing I'm really sure of I'm unsure of almost everything But I'm looking up and looking forward There's nothing back there for you or me So you say you are Broken, beaten Used and mistreated Tired, shattered Bruised and battered The only thing I'm really sure of I'm unsure of almost everything But I know, I know, I I only wanna talk to you

#LO BUENO ES QUE DIJE PEQUEÑO NO?#YA AQUI DEJO MIS FEELS EN 50 CANCIONES Y ME VOY A DESAPARECER #ESPERO TE GUSTE SOULMATE #SI ESTA SOY YO CONTESTANDO PARTE DEL MEME 5000 AÑOS DESPUÉS #*LE DEJA AMORS*#♪baby i'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms barefoot on the grass listening to our favourite song |logan & neeja

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terrifictomholland · 4 years

Text

you melt my heart - Tom Holland x reader

So, this is a request from @thehappygrungelife and this has very much taken on a life of it’s own. This is a monster of a fic.

Word count: 10.7K

Warnings: Curse words, some smut at the end and fluff, there is a little angst and self-doubt. If there’s anything else, lmk! this stuff also doesn’t happen without a tiny village so here’s to those who’s helped me and cheered me on while writing this @fairytelling @angelic-holland @xoluvx @howdyhoe-holland thank you soso much!

This has taken a lot of time and effort on my part and in a way, it’s quite personal to me, so be gentle with this. It means a lot to me, so without further ado - enjoy.

"You're brighter than all the stars combined," you heard a voice tell you from behind. You rolled your eyes as your lips tugged up in a smile, before turning around coming face to face with the one and only Tom Holland.

"Is that a dig since I don't really ever come to these parties?" you asked, cocking your hip, leaning against the counter as you set your drink aside, seeing him fish-mouth for a brief moment before recovering.

"No! No, it's just...i'm glad you're here," he back-pedaled, "and being bright isn't a bad thing, it's sexy," he recovered and you raised your eyebrow. "Nice save there, you were about a feet deep in digging your own grave there," you said gently patting his shoulder and he chuckled. "Wanna know what else is really sexy?" "No, but I know I'm about to find out regardless," "You naked on my bed," "You're getting predictable Tom, is that the best you've got?" you grinned, looking into his eyes seeing the way they twinkled in the light, the colour changing every so often from a deep brown to a molten caramel colour, depending on where the light struck. "Hell no I haven't even gotten started honey, but I've got to keep you interested don't I?" he challenged. "What if I'm not?" you retorted seeing the challenge spark something in his eyes and you bit your lip, concealing a grin as you hopped up on the counter, feeling him coming closer to you.

The close proximity and the way his cologne mixed with cigarettes invaded your senses and personal space made you a little lightheaded. Your gaze traveling up to his face as his hand came to rest on your waist. "Here we are again huh?" he breathed, his mouth inches away from yours. You felt his body heat radiating off of him,seeing his intense gaze on you as you licked your lips, hands moving up to his shoulders letting them rest there.

Your eyes wandering down to his muscled arms, seeing all of the intricate tattoos decorating them. You could have spent a lifetime studying them and still find new things about them. "Here we are," you agreed letting your eyes flutter shut as he leaned in, stopping briefly before his lips connected with yours. That made you open your eyes seeing the silent question in his eyes - did you want to stop?

You didn't.

His lips brushed over yours softly at first, teasing you before adding more pressure, his lips rolling over yours, catching your bottom lip between his. You let out a sigh, letting your fingers lace together behind his neck.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip, easily parting your lips, letting your tongues battle it out in their own private dance. His hands roaming along the sides of your body, his hold on you tight enough to bruise. At first it didn't even register for you, until something cool and metal brushed against your tongue.

You broke the kiss only to see him looking at you questioningly. "Did you get a tongue piercing?" He gave you a cheeky grin as an answer, sticking his tongue out and your throat went dry seeing the silver piercing there. "Impressed?" he asked cockily, watching you with a fire in his eyes that made your stomach burn with desire. "Unexpected," you said at long last to keep him on his toes.

It turned you on that's for sure, both the piercing itself, letting your mind wander to all of the places that could come in handy and also the way he was looking at you, like you were a meal. "Is that good or bad?" he hummed and you grinned having the upper hand. Instead of replying, you reached up kissing him again, picking up where the two of you left off.

His hand snaking around your waist bringing you flush against him, his touch scorching your skin. "Tom! You'll nev- oh sorry mate!" one of his friends interrupted, the both of you breaking away from the kiss looking over at his friend. You gulped feeling like someone had doused you with a bucket of ice water.

Placing your hands on his shoulders gently pushing him off you and you hopped off the counter. Seeing his slightly flushed cheeks and swollen lips, you wanted to stay, god did you want to stay. But if you did, it would be a mistake. "Wait Y/N-" he began, his hands reaching for you but you side-stepped and gave him a small smile waving at him.

Had his friend not interrupted now, who knows where the two of you ended up doing. Once you got outside, the fog in your head cleared as you breathed in the frosty night air. As you walked you fired off a text to your friends letting them know you went home. The further you walked away from the frat house, the more you sobered up and you blamed yourself for falling so easily to his advances and charming self. It wasn't the first time that he had come onto and you had ended up kissing at a frat party like this one. It was something about him that was so alluring, making you unable to stay away. A lot of it had to do with his reputation as the ultimate bad boy on campus where his dorm was like a revolving door of different girls coming and going as they pleased. While you let yourself be part of the thrill of it, just for a moment because kissing was harmless. You didn't fancy being a notch on his bedpost.

You weren't that kind of a girl who could pull off a one night stand. No you needed a connection with someone if you were gonna sleep with them, and you didn't know Tom well enough for that. Nor did you want to get too close to him because you'd heard from far too many friends of yours who had slept with him.

That he fucked them and dumped them which wasn't something you were interested in. In turn that made you guarded around him to protect yourself. ---- It was a couple of days before you saw Tom again after your little make-out session in the kitchen of his frat house. This time you bumped into him at the pizza place down the street from where your dorm was.

At first you didn't see him until you heard his voice. "Hey," he said, hands stuffed in his pockets, him rocking back and forth on the back of his heel. "Oh hey Tom," you said with a friendly smile "How's it going?" he asked casually while the two of you both waited for your pizzas. "It's going, cramming for finals now before winter break you know. What about you?" you asked, letting your eyes take him in. He looked gorgeous today, clad in ripped jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt with his signature leather jacket over it, along with a pair of boots. "Ah yes, the panic-induced cramming," he joked making you grin, you saw him step closer to you, letting other people pass through that already got their food.

He never stepped back again. "You see," you started, glancing at him for a second seeing the way he held your gaze steadily with mild curiosity, "this is study food and a much needed excuse to get out of my room and to see something other than the four walls back in my dorm," you chuckled self-deprecatingly hearing him laugh.

"Ah, the best kind of study food I can imagine," he played along and you grinned, nodding along. "Absolutely," "Do you uh, want some company?" he asked and suddenly his whole demeanor changed, his body language turning into something much more insecure and shy-like. "Oh, sure, yeah I'd love some company," you stuttered out not bothering to hide your surprise, but you felt pleasantly surprised that he asked you and it showed in the smile you gave him. "Cool," he said with a smile as he relaxed, his shoulders dropping and more of his normal confidence coming back.

Your order was called out so you got it. While Tom waited for his, you scoured the place for a table for the two of you to sit at. "So, what are you studying?" Tom asked sliding into the seat opposite you when he got his pizza, glancing at you, laying down some napkins in the middle of the table. "Psychology," you said taking a bite of pizza, seeing his eyebrows raising, giving you an impressed nod, "That's dope," "What about you?" "You," he said smoothly and you looked down feeling your cheeks heat up. "That's smooth," you offered seeing a shit-eating grin form on his face. "You ain't seen nothing yet," "Boy you're cocky," you laughed shaking your head bemusedly.

"Well, I go after what I want, who can blame me?" he shrugged, you leaned forward on the table eyeing him curiously, "What are you currently wanting?" He shifted in his seat looking at your inquisitive gaze, you didn't ask to be a dick. You were simply curious what he wanted.

"A bit of fun with you," he told you honestly, to which you gave a small nod, letting his words sink in. He gave you honesty and you felt the need to give him the same favour. "I don't do one night stands," you said bluntly putting it out there. He watched you curiously while taking a sip from his coke. "Who said anything about a one night stand?" he asked, brows furrowing, head tilted to the side watching you with an intensity you weren't expecting from him. "I..I just thought...that's why you're here now, and the party," you trailed off, suddenly feeling thrown off guard.

He rubbed his fingers over his lips, contemplating what to say, "I'm not gonna lie, I'd love to have you in my bed." he started and you sucked in a breath feeling a sinking feeling take over in your chest, of course all he wanted was a quick fuck and be on his way, leaving you behind along with the rest of his trophies. "But that's not why I'm here now, I'm here because I genuinely want to be here and get to know you." he finished and the sinking feeling in your chest dissipated slightly, but you were still watching him with guarded eyes, "Why me?" you couldn't help asking, a wave of self-doubt washing over you and as much as you tried to hide it, Tom noticed it so he reached his hand out, placing it on top of yours.

You looked down at his massive hand swallowing yours, feeling slightly soothed by the gentle touch. "Why not you? I think you're remarkable and you don't put up with my bullshit and you're clearly not afraid to give me a piece of your mind," he said flooring you, out of all things, him complimenting you like this was the last thing you were expecting, but it made you feel fuzzy and warm on the inside. "You mean that?" your voice wavering slightly as you looked at him with big, round eyes.

"I really do. How about this? Go on a date with me and if you don't want to do this anymore after that, it's completely fine. But, one date, that's all I'm asking," he said giving your hand a squeeze, letting you know the ball was entirely in your court. You mulled it over, looking over at him to try and see what he was thinking. "Alright, one date," you conceded seeing the smile taking over his whole face and you mirrored his smile, letting out a small giggle in disbelief at what you just agreed to. "Fuck yeah!" he cheered and you shook your head letting out another giggle at his outburst. "So...can I have your number now?" he asked with a cheeky grin and you couldn't help but be slightly endeared as he pulled his phone out handing it over to you and you took it, letting your fingers quickly type your number. "I texted myself," you said as you handed the phone back to him.

Your fingers brushing against each other. You definitely felt something in that single and very brief touch, judging by the way he was looking at you, he'd felt it too. "Was hoping you would, but, I wouldn't have minded texting you either," he winked, you rolled your eyes good naturedly now, dropping your hand down to your side. "You don't stop do you?" you chuckled watching as he looked at your hand, which was still buzzing. "Nope," he said popping the p. "How does Wednesday sound?" he asked instead.

You did some quick thinking, it was Monday today. "Sounds good to me," you said letting yourself get just a teeny bit excited at the prospect of your date. So far, from the time you'd spent with Tom at the pizza parlour tonight, you were starting to see that there was more than meets the eye with Tom.

Despite the tattoos, piercings and his badass looks and his reputation. Only in tiny bits and pieces, the smallest glimpses, but it was something deeper about him, more layers to him that you were itching to get to know more about. "Great, thanks for giving me a fair shot," he said with an adorable smile, the smile alone doing things to you, a warmth spreading through you.

There was definitely more than meets the eye you quickly decided. "Of course, I'm excited," you smiled and it wasn't a lie, you really were excited for this. "Me too," he murmured with a small smile you'd not seen on his face before. ----- Between cramming for exams and going to lectures and work, you'd felt time went far too fast and too slow and today was the day of your date.

You and Tom had begun texting 24/7, your phone constantly attached to your hand like glue, feeling giddy as the two of you spent all of your waking hours texting back and forth. You talked about everything between heaven and earth in those messages. Your friends constantly taking the piss out of you, teasing you at your love struck face and silly smile at your phone.

The incessant questions about who was making you smile so much and who was behind the pep in your step, but you kept it under wraps for now. At least until the date, you were quite sure that you wanted to keep seeing him, no matter how the date would pan out tonight. All Tom had said was that he was picking you up at 7 and to wear casual clothes, no heels. Which was fine by you, you positively hated wearing heels anyways. Right around 7pm, your phone lit up with a text from him, saying he was here, so you quickly got your things and put your shoes on, calling out a quick bye to your friends before heading out.

He stood leaning against his car by the passenger side waiting for you, fiddling with his phone. You bit your lip feeling those giddy and fluttery feelings creeping back as you approached him. He looked up when you got nearer and a grin spread on his face, "Hey," "Hi," you replied shyly, You weren't quite as forward in this situation, feeling your nerves taking over just a little and he seemed almost just as shy himself. He reached out pulling you into him giving you a hug that you positively melted in, sneakily breathing in his cologne that was intoxicating. "You look really gorgeous," he murmured in your ear causing you to smile. "Thank you, so do you," and he did, he really did.

It could've been the lighting, but you were positive you saw him blush before opening the door for you, letting you climb inside as he went around and into the driver seat. "Where are we going?" you asked after you'd driven for a couple of minutes, he let out a small laugh. "Someone's impatient," he teased making you pout slightly, he saw you and smirked, "If I weren't driving I'd sure as hell be kissing that pout off your face right now," you looked away from him as your cheeks heated up hearing him say that.

But you couldn't help but to feel secretly pleased either, a slow burning sensation furling up in your stomach at the prospect of kissing him. You knew the way he kissed and it was addictive.

The way he kissed with confidence and a very talented tongue sending chills down your spine whenever you thought about it. "Shut up," you mumbled hearing his maddening laughter ring out in the car. The rest of the drive was filled with easy and effortless banter between the two of you. "We're going mini-golfing?" you questioned as you got out of the car, seeing how excited he was, "Hell yeah we are!" he grinned about as excited as a puppy. "Out of all things I thought we were doing tonight, this didn't even make it on the list," you admitted and he looked at you wickedly,

"You have a list? What did you think we were gonna do?" he teased and you rolled your eyes, "I do not," you defended, "and like...tattoos or something," you muttered but he heard you, letting out a laugh, "Oh honey, haven't I told you? We're doing that for our second date," he grinned impishly. "Oh so we're going on a second date?" it was your turn to tease him now and he confidently nodded with an easy grin, "Yeah we are, you know it too," he said simply seeing that it had the effect he wished for. "Oh god damn you," you said exasperated seeing the smug look on his face as you walked in side-by-side.

You dared a quick glance at him seeing him already watching you, giving you a private smile before taking your hand firmly in his. His hand engulfing yours. "Your hand is cold," before your filter reached your mouth that was what you said. He looked at you amusedly, "My lips are cold, wanna warm them up too?" at that, your cheeks heated up immensely and he leaned over, kissing your cheek which was enough to send your heart racing. You hadn't been on this date for long enough, but already you could tell you were gonna be enjoying yourself in his company.

"Let's get this game on," you swiftly changed the subject, hearing his throaty chuckle. As much as you tried to insist on paying, he simply wasn't having it, easily swatting your hand away each time you tried to pay for yourself. "I'll let you kiss me," you bribed hearing him snort, "Oh my god you're a lunatic," "I am not!" you tried to dignify and he shook his head, "How far are we getting if I just don't say anything right now?" "Guess you'll never know," you winked hearing him let out a curse, "Damn," ---- "Have you golfed before?" he asked as you got to the first hole, setting up. "A few times here and there," you shrugged, correcting your grip on the club and stance before hitting the ball. You kept your eye on it as it stopped right in front of the hole, "Damn," you heard Tom say, clearly impressed and you felt a surge of pride run through you at that. "Thanks!" you replied cheerfully as you managed to get the ball in the hole with a gentle putt. You looked behind you seeing him shaking his head at you with an amused look, "A few times here and there hmm?" making you shrug with a giggle, "Mmhm," you winked, seeing him lick his bottom lip before taking his ball and lining that up, you watched him seeing the look of pure concentration creep up on his face, lip sticking out ever so slightly as he eyed the hole then the ball.

You got a sinking feeling he'd done his fair share of mini-golfing too, he looked far too comfortable and used to golfing. Your gut instinct was right when you saw him sink the ball on the first try. "Oh come on," you huffed seeing the triumphant grin take over his face. "This is gonna be fun," he laughed knowing the two of you would be pretty much neck-in-neck all game. ---- In the end, Tom beat you by five measly points, making you huff, your arms crossed over your chest. "I had no idea you were such a sore loser," he smirked, rubbing his victory in your face, "I'm revoking all kissing privileges now that you've said that," you said while he eyed you for a moment, biting his lip before shaking his head, "No you're not," he hummed confidently and you just looked at him before a small smile tugged on your lips,

"No..I'm not," you said softly. He smiled back at you, taking your hand lacing your fingers together. "Do you want to grab a bite to eat?" he asked as his thumb ran along your knuckles. You looked down at your hands, again you felt the warmth spread throughout you like a wildfire at his gentle touch. "Yeah I'm starving," you readily agreed, letting him pull you along to a pub, grabbing a simple meal and a beer each. "How's the date so far?" he asked in-between bites of food, looking at you with interest. "I think it's great," you began, "I don't have a lot of experience when it comes to dates and dating," you said softly, avoiding his gaze feeling like you were being peeled back, like the layer of an onion, exposing more and deeper parts of yourself, as silly as it may be. "You don't?" the way he asked, it wasn't accusatory, more like being curious and almost unfathomable for him that you hadn't dated a lot.

You could feel your shoulders tensing up and turning slightly defensive, even though you knew he didn't mean anything by it. "No I haven't," you switched on a dime, looking into his eyes steadily, "Is that something that's gonna bother you? That I've never had a boyfriend before and that I'm so inexperienced?" your voice hardening slightly to mask just how incredibly self-aware you felt over that, like you were backed into a corner without an exit strategy. "What? No of course not," he said confused as to how you'd gone from so chilled out to frosty in a matter of a minute not understanding where he'd gone wrong. You deflated at his reassurance, almost crawling into yourself for getting so defensive like that and hot shame ran through you, you were ashamed of your behaviour.

But you couldn't help it, not when you knew his reputation and the line of girls he had, easily throwing themselves at him and you knew he got with them and he had bags of experience. You couldn't help but to compare yourself to the girls you'd seen him hooking up with.

You were nothing like them whatsoever, so this was all leaving you feeling a certain way. "I'm sorry," you began as your cheeks heated, looking at him, you knew you owed him an explanation. He gave you a slight smile holding your hand and giving it a squeeze, the touch both soothing and grounding you.

"It's just...I don't understand why me? Because I know about you and your ways, you find a new girl at each party to hook up with. I've seen you in action," you said chewing on your lip seeing him listen to you intently before you continued, "I just...I feel really insecure, because I don't have any experience with...anything, and I'm scared you're gonna realize that and I don't have anything to offer you that's gonna keep you coming back to me. You're gonna get bored and leave and go find someone else," you rushed out, feeling the blood coursing in your veins and you could hear the loud pounding of your heartbeat as you laid it out there, your fears for him to dissect.

You felt like you had put yourself under a microscope. You shut your eyes tightly, letting out a shaky breath as your hands began to tremble while you waited for whatever he was going to say next. "Hey, look at me," he said gently, his fingers coming up under your chin and bringing them up so you met his gaze, seeing just how calm and steady he was right now.

For some reason, you could feel yourself relax slightly. You licked your lips nervously, bringing your beer up having a sip of it just to have something to do.

"I'll be honest with you, I really couldn't give a flying fuck whether or not you've slept with 30 different guys or no guy. That's not why I'm attracted to you, and it's not something that's gonna make me bored of you either...if anything, it makes me want to stay even more, because it means we'll have time to teach you all the fun stuff and I'll help you explore the things you like too." you let out a small laugh still, your cheeks flushed at his words,

"I promise I will not get bored of you, you keep me on my toes and I really fucking dig that," he finished and you looked at him wordlessly, feeling like a massive weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You gave him a small but genuine smile, feeling something shifting between the two of you into something more, "I'd like that...down the line," you admitted. You were only human, of course you'd thought about what it would be like to sleep with Tom and having him rock your world, but now, you felt much more at ease around him because he knew where you stood and how you felt now. You trusted him to not abuse that, which you didn't think he would. "Yeah?" he asked, eyes lighting up as if it was Christmas morning, you let out a small giggle seeing how he reacted. "You're fucking stunning," he complimented and you felt your heart grow three sizes as he said it, "Thank you, you're pretty handsome too," you grinned. After you got that off your chest, the rest of your night went smooth sailing, you felt much lighter once you had that discussion.

Heavy and deep as it may have been for a first date, it felt appropriate somehow. He took you home and dropped you off outside of your dorm. Your body turning to him in the car, watching him. "Will I see you soon again?" he asked after a moment, his thumb reaching out to touch your cheek and your eyes fluttered shut, leaning into his touch ever so slightly. "I think it's gonna be a few days now,since my exams are starting," you said regretfully, "That's alright, let me know when you're done with them and we'll pencil in another date," he said easily, reaching over kissing your forehead. You let out a content sigh as his lips lingered before he pulled away. "Oh it's a date for sure," you promised, slipping out of the car and heading up to the front door, turning around and you saw him wave at you before pulling away from the curb and drive off. ---- Since you'd been so preoccupied with your exams, you and Tom hadn't been able to see each other since your date, but that didn't stop either of you from continuously texting and talking on the phone into the early hours of the morning, leaving you more zombie-like than human, but oh how giddy he made you feel.

You were seeing him tonight, over at his dorm which had you feeling all kinds of things. Mostly excitement to see him, but also a little nervous because you didn't know what the two of you were gonna do.

You got there, knocking on the door and while you waited outside, the butterflies and the giddiness came back in full force, stronger now than ever before. You'd missed him, and you were quite sure he had missed you too. "Hey," he grinned opening the door, you'd expected to find him in his signature ripped jeans and black shirt.

But instead, the sight that greeted you was of him in a pair of sweats and a fitted white t-shirt. A smile spreading across your face seeing him looking so soft and cosy. You went over to him easily, giving him a hug. "Hey," you murmured against him, breathing in his comforting and already familiar scent. "Come on in," he ushered, shutting the door behind you. It was the first time you were there, seeing yet another part of himself.

What surprised you was how relatively tidy he had it and the amount of photos he had hung up on the walls of his family and friends. You stopped there, taking them all in while he hung back, letting you familiarize yourself here. "Are these photos all of your family?" you asked turning around, seeing him come over to you, standing right behind you as his arms came around your waist, pulling you close to him.

Even through your clothes you could feel the way his touch burned in the best way. "Yeah, that's my mum and dad. Those other rascals are my brothers. I've got twin brothers, Harry and Sam and then Paddy who is the youngest," he said proudly, something in his eyes turning very soft as he spoke of them. "Are you close to them?" his eyes met yours and you saw so much in his eyes that he didn't let others see. "I am very close to my brothers yeah. I'm really close to my parents too. We talk daily on the phone or facetime," he shrugged giving you another private smile that he only reserved for you. You were about to melt to the floor. Whenever a guy talked about his family you were a goner.

Especially with Tom, who, with his tough-as-nails looking exterior and then to find out he talked to his family every single day and spoke so highly of them? That was really attractive.

"I can tell they mean a lot to you," you smiled, snaking your own arm around his waist snuggling into him. "Absolutely, they've all got a tattoo. It's the first letter of all their names but still," he murmured lifting his shirt up. Your eyes immediately drawn to his chest, feeling a very different sensation form in the pit of your stomach seeing that he had his nipple pierced.

Your eyes moved even further down, seeing different letters tattooed on his rib cage right below his heart. "Did they hurt?" you whispered unable to take your eyes off them, "Yeah those ones hurt probably the most. The skin there is very thin and you're right on the bone," he said letting you touch them.

You glanced up at him seeing the way he was watching you so carefully and intently. "Did that hurt too?" you asked motioning for his nipple piercing. He let out a laugh, "I don't really remember that one, I did that drunkenly," he confessed, his cheeks heating up. "Can I touch?" you asked innocently seeing him bite his lip giving you the go-ahead with a nod of his head. Your hand shook ever so slightly as you placed it on his warm chest, feeling the muscles ripple under your touch. Honestly, he was so ripped it made you question whether he was made out of marble. Your fingers coming in contact with the cold metal and he drew in a ragged breath, letting out a small hiss. "Sensitive," he said in a strangled voice, all you did was give him an innocent smile in return.

Letting your gaze move down the rest of his torso seeing the 6-pack he had, you let your fingers touching his abs, feeling the way they flexed under your touch. Your eyes lowering further down to the happy trail leading down to the promised land.

Making it so that it was your turn to swallow thickly thinking about that happening someday, you wanted him, plain as day now. It wasn't something you could avoid, some nights you'd toss and turn being so turned on just by thinking about him and his tongue piercing and how good he could make you feel.

You let yourself lean forward while you had the courage, placing gentle kisses to his nipple hearing him curse under his breath, sucking on the sensitive bud, letting your tongue swirl around his piercing. "Feels good," he grunted closing his eyes. You glanced up seeing the effect you had on him, making you feel powerful.

With a pop, you pulled away rolling down his shirt and you continued to walk around in there like you hadn't just done that. "Oh you fucking minx," he cursed in frustration, looking at you as you eyed a bookshelf full of movies and other little trinkets that must have held a lot of meaning for him With a sly look over your shoulder you winked, "But you like it," He plonked down on his couch watching you with unabashed desire swirling in his eyes.

The way he looked at you ignited that fire in your belly once again and your core started throbbing. You didn't say anything, instead a tiny smirk forming on your face as you kept walking around, touching different knickknacks he had being aware of his intense gaze on you.

"So, what are we doing?" you hummed taking a seat right next to him feeling him pull you into his lap, his fingers digging into your thighs as you bracketed your knees on either side of him, staring down at him. The more you got to know him, the more comfortable you felt around him, no longer afraid to tease him.

You moved in attaching your lips to his neck placing gentle kisses there hearing him sigh, head cocked to the side. "I thought we could bake together," he started shakily, hands holding onto you tighter, "I grew up with mum always baking something back home, so I thought it could be a fun thing we could do," he shrugged trying to play off just how soft and pure this was.

Your heart was growing about five sizes too big for this boy and this was the last thing you expected him to say while he had you in his lap, but you weren't complaining. "I'd love to," you whispered laying your head on his chest feeling how his heart was beating just a little bit faster than normal, which made you smile, he wasn't superhuman after all. "Really? You would?" he asked carding his fingers through your hair. Your head was a in a bit of a tailspin at the incredibly fast change of pace, but you liked this just as much.

"Yeah of course, I love to bake, what did you have in mind?" "I thought we could do something relatively simple? Maybe brownies?" "I love brownies," you said excitedly, him letting out a breath as if he'd been holding it, "Were you nervous I wouldn't want to bake with you?" "I was afraid you'd think I was lame for rather wanting to spend my time with you letting you know about my family and bake with me, instead of fucking, or well...we can still have a bit of fun" he said cheekily after a moment of silence making you laugh. "I'd much rather do this anytime over a frat party. I prefer seeing you like this," you mused seeing the way his eyes crinkled as he smiled, turning his head to press a kiss to the centre of your palm. "Do you mean that?"

"I really do, the party scene isn't something for me, I much rather prefer doing these kinds of things. Have a quiet night in, baking, or like...pop a movie in, have a glass of wine, whatever. Trivia night at the pub? hell yeah, go bowling or even mini-golfing. Sign me the fuck up," you shrugged feeling his chest rumbling with laughter, "God marry me already," he joked making you laugh and you snuggled further into him, face nuzzled in his neck. "You smell really good," you hummed, "Thanks love, I showered for once before you came," he teased and you slapped his arm pulling back looking at him, seeing the cheeky grin.

"You're such a dick at times you know," you smirked before getting up leaving him on the couch. "Wait where are you going? Come back," he said making grabby hands at you, "Get up lazy arse, we're baking," you clicked your tongue having a look around getting familiar opening different drawers and cabinets.

Tom leaned against the door frame seeing you plucking out different measurements and ingredients. "You look so hot right now all bossy and direct," you heard him say, your cheeks flushed but you glanced at him seeing the grin across his face. "Don't think for a second you're getting out of this. You're making these brownies with me or so help me god," you threatened with a glint in your eye.

He held his arms up in mock surrender walking over to you, arms wrapping around you from behind resting them on your stomach. "Tom come on," you laughed softly feeling him place a soft kiss on your neck, inching away because it tickled. "You can do the measuring and mix everything. Put those muscles to good use," you smirked, easily slipping out of his hold, turning the oven on to preheat it.

You bit your lip looking over at him, seeing him do as he was told while you lined up the tin with baking paper. "You've been checking me out?" he smirked making you flush, glad that your face was hidden, "Just mix it together," you huffed in exasperation hearing his laugh ring out. "Hey Tom?" you asked walking back to him with the tray, "Yeah love?" your belly filled with warmth and pleasure whenever he called you love, "What's your fondest memory of being in the kitchen with your mum?" "Probably when I was around 7 or 8, mum let me help her in the kitchen making my birthday cake. I promptly wanted a fire truck cake and I felt so big and I was so proud of myself, helping her with measuring the ingredients and mixing the batter. I even got to help her put the cake in the oven, with her supervision of course," he chuckled, his eyes shining with fondness as he told you about the very precious memory.

You couldn't help but to grin yourself picturing such a young Tom, sans all the piercings and tattoos, the way his eyes would lit up as he got to help his mum with his cake. "I bet that was the tastiest cake you've ever had," you smiled as he popped the brownie batter in the oven. He put the timer on before walking over to you, lifting you up on the counter gently, holding your body close. "It really was. I got to help decorate it and everything, the bragging rights I had for that cake was ridiculous," he murmured making you laugh softly. "I would too," you smiled letting your fingers rake through his buzz-cut watching the way his eyes closed.

"You look even more like a bad boy with this buzz-cut," you murmured as he opened his eyes looking at you, "Bad boy huh?" he smirked and you smacked his arm, "You know you are," you huffed, feeling the way he placed his hands on your hips, your legs opening to let him stand between them. "I'm glad I let you talk me into that date," you murmured watching as he leaned forward kissing your nose. "I am too," ---- The rest of the evening was spent on a very small couch he had, watching reruns of New Girl, both of you gorging on the brownies that tasted fucking amazing, "Your mum taught you very well," you said softly, head resting on his chest and your legs entwined. You nuzzled your face closer to him, being on the brink of almost falling asleep because you were so comfortable and his fingers running up and down your arms. "I love that you sound so shocked," he mumbled sarcastically making you let out a sleepy giggle. "'m sorry," you grinned lifting your head up, resting your chin on his chest seeing him already watching you. "It's okay love," he hummed.

Something fell over the two of you, a shift settling and all you felt was calmness. Your eyes darting between his eyes and his lips. He was doing the same, slowly leaning forward and your heart started beating faster as you realized what was about to happen.

Without knowing it, you were holding your breath in anticipation and only let it out when his breath fell onto your lips. His hand came up to cup your cheek and you held onto his wrist, feeling his pulse racing. "Can-" he started and you nodded quickly, "-yes, please," you whispered swallowing and his lips brushed over yours. Your eyes automatically closing as his lips caught yours in a lock. You felt like your skin was buzzing, every touch of his sending electricity coursing through your entire body, lighting it up from the inside out.

Your lips finding a rhythm with ease as they glided along each other. He deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping along your lip causing you to let out an involuntary sigh, parting your lips for him to slip his inside of your mouth. You let out a small moan feeling the cold metal of his tongue piercing against your own. Your hand moving up to hold his face as your tongues battled it out.

Ever so slowly he pulled away and you took a much needed breath, your faces still milimetres away from his, you were so close you could count his eyelashes and had a close-up of all of his freckles. "That was quite something," he hummed with a pleased smile and you couldn't help but to smile back, pecking his lips repeatedly.

Now that you've gotten a taste of his kisses you wanted more. "It really was," you agreed in between kisses. You easily moved into his lap, straddling him as you held onto him, both of you going back to kissing passionately and needily.

Hands roaming and exploring each others bodies, just as your tongues were exploring each others mouths. "I don't think you should go out in this weather and it's really late," he said once you broke away from the kiss, both of you out of breath with swollen lips, a crinkle in your eyes. You glanced out the window seeing the storm.

It was nasty looking, and to be fair, you really did want to stay the night. "Okay," "I'm not gonna lie, I thought I was going to have to work harder to make you stay the night," he laughed, you looked at him with a glint in your eyes. "Are you trying to get me into bed?" His own eyes twinkled with mischief, "You offering?" "I'll take the couch," you grinned at his antics, "No c'mon, you're my guest you can take the bed," he refused and you gave him a look, "It's one night, I think I can manage your couch," you said pecking his lips but he was adamant. "Or...we share the bed?" he asked looking at you questioningly. "Alright, but you keep your hands to yourself," you warned and he smirked which made the throb between your legs come back full force at the prospect of sharing a bed with him. "Don't worry about my hands, you should keep yours to yourself because I know I'm hot," he said puffing his chest out. "You're more than welcome to sleep on the floor you know," you smiled sugary-sweet. "Like I'm gonna give up an opportunity to have you in my bed," he scoffed, "Oh my god, let's just go to bed already," you shook your head with a small laugh, climbing off of him.

You got up and walked to his bedroom. It was the first time you were in there, seeing the simple twin-sized bed, more pictures hung up on the walls and a closet. Along with clothes strewn across the floor and some random papers here and there. "I figured you'd want something more comfortable to sleep in," he said holding out a t-shirt and a pair of sweats. "Oh thank you," you said softly, taking the clothes from him. "I'll go get ready in the bathroom," he said easily and you let out a breath the second he was gone, letting yourself feel overwhelmed for a moment while you were alone with your thoughts.

You'd never shared a bed before with anyone, so a little bit of nervousness was just part of the package. You quickly stripped out of your clothes and decided to just put his t-shirt on. It made you look like you were swimming in it, but it smelled exactly like him and that was quickly becoming your favourite scent.

You were definitely gonna take this shirt to sleep in. You glanced at his bed crawling into it, and just as you were about to pull the covers over you, he walked inside again. You swallowed thickly seeing him in his boxers only and the way his eyes took you in, clad in just a t-shirt of his. "This is a sight I could get used to," he said going over to the bed and crawling in beside you. It was a tight fit, but also made for a perfect excuse for you to cuddle up to Tom.

"Me too," you grinned, softly kissing him as your legs tangled together under the covers and he wrapped a strong arm around you. The both of you sharing lazy kisses and gentle touches. "Goodnight," you whispered once you broke away, just as he turned off the lights and you cuddled up against him, pulling the comforter over you. "Goodnight love, sweet dreams," he whispered feeling his lips on your forehead. ---- The next morning, you woke up before Tom, still wrapped up in his arms. You took this time to really admire him, seeing the way his eyelashes rested against his cheeks, the way his lips were formed in a tiny pout, soft snores escaped him.

You were so fucking smitten with this boy. Your gaze moved down to his arm, seeing the intricate details of his tattoos, gently tracing them with your finger. "That one is for my grandpa," his raspy morning voice cracked slightly. A gentle smile formed on your face now seeing as how he was awake. You leaned down giving it a gentle kiss. "Good morning," you said laying down beside him feeling him pull you close. "Morning love, how'd you sleep?" he asked rubbing his eyes. All of this felt so sickeningly cute and domestic. Making you feel like your heart was gonna burst out of your rib cage. "The best sleep I've had in a long, long time," you confessed seeing his face brighten, "Me too, you should sleep over more often," he grinned cheekily pressing a kiss on your cheek. "Don't get ahead of yourself now," you teased feeling him peck your lips. "You hungry?" he asked sitting up while you burrowed into his duvet, unwilling to get up just yet, you being far too comfortable there, "A bit," "Well, we've got brownies," he offered making you giggle. "Sounds like an excellent breakfast," ---- Weeks flew by, Tom and you got even closer. The two of you alternated between hanging out at each others dorms, hanging out with your mutual friends and spending the night there.

Other nights you had date nights where usually you'd find some fun activity to try out. Tonight was the NYE party at Tom's frat house, which of course you were going to with your friends. The more time you'd spent with him you noticed that Tom had cut back on going to the parties ever since you came into his life. It made you feel warm inside, knowing that there had been a change in him. And you were part of the reason why.

You never wanted to change him against his own will and it was something you'd made abundantly clear, but he was adamant that he didn't mind it and that he'd much rather spend his time with you over those silly parties any day nowadays. For the both of you it was a no-brainer that the two of you were dating, but it would be very nice to be able to call him your boyfriend, and for him to call you his girlfriend.

So that was where you were now, boyfriend and girlfriend. While you got ready tom fired off a text to you, asking where you were, which brought you back to this evening. Q

uickly typing out a message that you had arrived at the frat house. Already you could hear the music blaring from outside and you knew it was gonna be absolutely packed. You still weren't crazily fond of these parties, but it was NYE and it was Tom.

You'd walk through fire for him if he asked you. Once inside, you were greeted with even louder music and people everywhere. There wasn't a single space that wasn't occupied somehow. You bit your lip knowing it was going to be damn near impossible to find Tom now in this crowd.

"Hey Y/N!" a voice called out making you look up seeing one of Tom's best and closest friends, Harrison with his signature cheeky smile and slightly bloodshot eyes from already going hard with the booze. At that you smiled feeling a little more comfortable and relieved that you had seen a familiar face.

"Hey Harrison!" you greeted, "Do you happen to know where Tom is?" you shouted so he could hear you over the loud music, the bass vibrating through your body. "Yeah, I'll take you to him!" he shouted back, taking your hand and guiding you through the crowd. "You're good for him you know," he said and you glanced at him seeing the genuine smile grazing his lips. "How so?" you called back,

"Before you he fucked anything and anyone that walked, but now? You've got him wrapped around his finger and he's just," he turned his head slightly, contemplating which word to use, "a better person for knowing you, you've not really tamed him, but you've made him shift priorities. That's not a bad thing, hell, his grades in school are getting better thanks to you," Harrison laughed not realizing the impact his words had on you.

Tom's grades were improving? He never told you that. Nevertheless, the pride coursing through you was overwhelming. A grin spreading over your face once your eyes finally landed on him, seeing him in an intense game of beer pong.

As if he could tell you had walked into the room, he looked up seeing you there. Wordlessly he put the paddle down and he walked over to you, embracing you in a tight hug, giving you a sweet kiss making you giggle against his lips, "Hiya love," he grinned as he held you close to him, "hi baby," you grinned as you tasted the beer on his tongue, "kicking ass are we?" you teased looking over at the pool table. "You know it!" he winked, "You gonna give me a prize if I win?" he asked adorably, "Well, then you'd better win," you smirked with a slight smirk, slapping his ass teasingly as he walked back to the pool table, throwing a wink your way, "This is for you love," he called out.

You grinned watching him and his teammate successfully sinking the ball into the opposing team's cup, making them drink up. It was a given that Tom was winning this game, the way he walked over to you when the game was finished with a confident stride. His hands firmly holding your hips, "Soo...what's my prize?" he asked as his lips attached to your neck, "Well," you started trailing a finger down the front of his shirt seeing his eyes change colour to something more dark and sinful,

"You might be getting that prize later, away from prying eyes...all alone in your bedroom," you whispered, letting your lips graze his earlobe, feeling him shiver and his grip on you tightening. "Fucking right I am," he said, licking his lips when you pulled away to look at him. You gave him an impish smile, kissing him and tugging on his bottom lip teasingly, hearing his low groan. Let the teasing begin. ---- You kept that up all night long, riling him up and teasing him. He never strayed far from you, just like you didn't want to stray too far from him either as you hung out with his and your mutual friends.

He had you firmly in his lap, gently mouthing and nibbling on your neck making it hard for you to keep focus on your friends and what they were saying. "Tom," you warned in a whisper, turning your head to look at him, seeing him looking at you with those eyes of his that could melt a glacier. "What? I want my prize now love," he murmured impatiently. You leaned forward capturing his pouty lip between yours, tugging on it feeling him let out a soft moan, only meant for your ears. "Let's go then," you whispered breaking the kiss.

The two of you finally made it inside of his room, him making sure that the door was locked so no one would interrupt you. While he did that, you toed off your shoes. "Have I mentioned how fucking gorgeous you look tonight?" he murmured attaching his lips to your neck as you let out a tiny moan, exposing your neck for him to keep kissing.

Your nimble fingers quickly working on un-buttoning his shirt, you pushed it off him as you lowered your head, kissing over his nipple and sucking on it, letting your tongue flick the piercing hearing the ragged breath he drew. "Love," he warned as your nails scraped across his abs, feeling them ripple under your touch.

You ran your fingers teasingly along the seam of his boxers making him groan. "I've wanted this all night," you whispered, leaving open mouth kisses all along his chest and abdomen, your teeth nipping on his hipbones hearing his curse and the way he gripped your hair. "You're driving me wild," he cursed. You fell to your knees, working his jeans quickly, pulling them down along with his boxers coming face-to-face with his rock hard cock, seeing how it curled up toward his belly.

The sight alone made your pussy clench and you licked your lips, glancing up at Tom seeing him watch you with hooded eyes. You swallowed, letting your hand wrap around his cock. He hissed as your cool hand came in contact with his cock, your hand pumping him and your thumb collected the pre-come using it to make for an easier glide. "God that's so good," he grunted as you twisted your wrist, squeezing him at the base, growing bolder and bolder with each of his praises.

You leaned forward, licking a stripe along the underside of his cock hearing his low growl, right before you wrapped your lips around the head, sucking away like it was a lolly, pulling a string of moans and curses from Tom's lips. "Wanna make you feel good," you moaned against him, the vibrations making him moan.

He gripped your hair tighter as you mouthed along at the tip, your tongue licking the slit, feeling him grip your hair in a ponytail keeping your hair out of your face. "You do, you're making me feel so good," he panted as you sucked harder, taking more of him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks out.

What you couldn't reach with your mouth, you used your hand, pumping him faster. "Come for me," you moaned looking up at him with your wide eyes. You felt him throbbing and pulsating in your mouth right before he came with a shout, you moaning around him, swallowing everything he gave you. "God damn you're incredible," he panted.

You wiped your lips feeling a surge of pride run through you as you stood up, giving him a passionate kiss. "Fuck me," you begged against his lips before he pulled away and you let out a small whimper, wanting to keep kissing him. "You sure love?" he asked. You'd done a lot of things together, but you hadn't actually had sex yet.

"I'm positive," you assured looking into his eyes. He kept your gaze, searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation but he found none. He backed you over to the bed, lowering you on it and placing kisses all over your body. He hiked your dress up over your stomach exposing your lace panties.

You got wetter and wetter by the second feeling him place kisses all along your inner thighs, alternating between scorching kisses and gently biting down making you moan. "Please Tom," you begged feeling his hot breath on your centre through your panties, feeling like you were gonna explode without a single touch. He finally pulled down your panties and you sucked in a sharp breath feeling his tongue at your centre, licking a fat stripe all along your folds.

You let out a moan, rutting your hips up for more, feeling his tongue fuck into of you. He hooked your legs over his shoulders and you threaded your fingers in his short hair feeling him put that skilled tongue of his to good use. Before Tom, you'd never had an orgasm, but since meeting him, the two of you had a lot of fun exploring what you liked the best. You let out a cry, gripping onto his hair even tighter now hips lifting off the bed when he circled your clit with his mouth. His tongue piercing finding your clit and you let out a broken sob, making stars explode behind your eyelids. "Oh god," you cried out bucking your hips feeling the fire building in the pit of your stomach, desperately chasing your orgasm.

"You make the prettiest noises when you're close, love," he hummed against your clit and you let out a high-pitched moan, the vibrations running all the way through your body.

From the tip of your toes all the way up to your head. Your body felt like it was on fire, your legs starting to shake. "Gonna come," you choked pulling harder on his hair feeling his finger slowly slide inside of you, curving it to find your spot easily. Thrusting his finger against it repeatedly making you cry out in sheer pleasure as your orgasm crashed into you with formidable force.

You chanted his name over and over as you came, feeling him lapping up your juices as you began coming down from your high, your legs still shaking post-orgasm. He kissed his way up your body, his lips finding yours and you couldn't help but to moan tasting yourself on his lips.

"That was incredible," you praised him feeling his smile against your lips, "I'm glad, you look divine when you come," he murmured breaking the kiss and you let out a giggle. You removed your dress, taking your bra with you before laying down on the bed, seeing him reaching into the bed side table, pulling out a condom. "You still wanna do this?" he asked wanting to double-check one last time, "Yes, if you won't fuck me I'll go find someone else who will," you moaned impatiently seeing him roll the condom on.

"You wouldn't fucking dare," he growled getting ontop of you, pinning your arms above your head to keep you in place. Your heart raced the action as you let out a moan, bucking your hips greedily feeling his cock brush against your entrance. "Oh god," you breathed sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, looking up at Tom seeing him watching you, "I'll be gentle," he assured leaning down to kiss you as he slid inside of you. "You're big," you chuckled breathily, trying to stay in the moment and not get completely overwhelmed.

"You okay?" he asked against your lips, "I'm fine, just gotta adjust for a second," you promised, letting him kiss you, your mouth opening as he sucked on your bottom lip making you moan. "Move," you encouraged, raising your hips, hearing a pained groan leave his lips.

You clung to him, nails digging into his back as he pulled out of you, just to thrust back inside, still taking it slow. It wasn't until you were a moaning and sweaty mess under him that he picked his pace up, his hand on your thigh and pulling it over his shoulder.

You gasped at the new angle, feeling like a whole new world of pleasure opened up for you.

"Oh fuck," you whimpered feeling his cock hit your spot, his hips rolling in a circle, knowing exactly how to move his hips to bring you the most pleasure. You didn't want to disappoint so you began rolling your hips too, meeting his thrusts hearing him curse. "Fuck honey," he grunted, grasping onto the sheets holding it so tightly his knuckles turned white. "You fuck me so good," you purred in his ear feeling him pick up his pace, thrusting harder into you.

You let out a moan as your orgasm began building for a second time, your stomach tensing and your pussy clenched down around him, "So fucking tight," he grunted, fingers sliding down to your front and starting to rub your clit. Your eyes rolled back and you clenched down hard around him, head thrown back in pleasure as your orgasm took over, feeling your entire body trembling and shaking.

Tom let out a shout before you felt him pulsating as he came into the condom. He collapsed on top of you and you clung to him, running your fingers up and down his back as the both of you came down from your highs, bodies sticking together with sweat.

You tried catching your breath, feeling nothing but pure bliss and happiness, "That was amazing," he took the words right out of your mouth as he looked up at you with a happy smile on his face. You melted at the sight of his disheveled state.

Cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling and his hair was all mussed up from how you'd pulled it. "I don't think I'm letting you out of this bed now," you grinned saucily,

"Oh no I've created a monster," he grinned and you swatted his arm, "Watch it you," you smiled feeling him roll off you and he got out of the bed. While you cuddled down under the covers, waiting for him to join you. "Come back, it's cold," you called out as a pout formed on your lips. "However shall I warm you up?" He returned moments later, crawling back in bed wrapping himself around you like an octopus.

You let out a content sigh snuggling into his chest. "Gee I wonder," you smirked, hips bucking into him and you definitely felt him stirring again which made desire pool between your legs once more. "You're my favourite person," he mumbled after a moment of silence, again taking you completely by surprise at his gentle and soft demeanor. His words bringing tears to your eyes because it was such an innocent thing to say. "You're my favourite person too in the whole wide world," you whispered emotionally, looking at him and he smiled, wiping your tears away before kissing you adoringly, cupping your cheek. "This is gonna be the best year yet," he murmured against your lips,

"Yeah it is, which, we really should start off with a bang." you readily agreed, kissing him and swiftly rolling on top of him, hearing the grunt he let out.

"Fuck yeah we are,"

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #frat boy!tom holland #tom holland! bad boy #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut

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jcolden · 3 years

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❝𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚❞

– – a Julian Colden playlist.

1. “What It Means To Be Alone” The Dear Hunter

Oh, you were born with the sun And oh, you will die with the moon And everything you thought you had you lost But now you'd never lose what you don't have

Prayers from above Never answered quite enough Looking up Never offered you too much Now the only one you have is you

2. “If G-D Don’t Follow Me (Down This Road)” Trubdr. Adam Road, Danielle Parente

If God don't follow me down this road If God don't follow me down this road

When you try to live You want to die When everything you feel collides God don't follow me Down this road Down this road

3. “Hellfire” Barns Courtney

Run in an alleyway through a dead end street Murdering promises that I just can't keep We could sing pretty melodies On the unmade bed Slow-dancing to a silhouette Cause I ain't dead yet

Ain't no chariots of fire come to take me home I'm lost in the woods and I wander on

Hellfire, hellfire, take my soul I'm waiting, waiting, I'm ready to go Yeah, mothers, children, lock your doors I'm waiting I'm ready to go

4. “Bible Belt” Dry The River

You say "My love, you take the cards that you're dealt ‘Cause there's no guiding light arching a line to Bethlehem If it's dark outside, you light the fire yourself."

Darling, when the ice caps melt When the devil's in the bible belt Don't cower in your bed

I'll be on the 545 You can meet me at the railway line And don't look so scared

‘Cause we've been through worse than this before we could talk The trick of it is don't be afraid anymore Oh, the trick of it is don’t be afraid anymore

5. “Lord Have Mercy” Empires

I think I see things some other way I think I've marched as an angel into the devil's cage I wanna fuck up society and piss in its grave I wanna love somebody in a selfless way

It's time for the end and beginning to meet Time for what I lost to come back to me I wanna challenge my death by coming back to life I'm gonna do it all over, gonna make things right

Lord have mercy Lord have mercy Lord have mercy On me

6. “Grip” Seeb, Bastille

We got drunk on this unholy wine To deliver us from our own minds The promise of a better time 'Til we’re feeling barely human

We don’t know what’s good for us 'Cause if we did, we might not do it Who knows where our limits lie? We won’t discover ‘til we push it

'Cause the devil's got my arms And it pulls me back into the night And I should just walk away, away But it grips me 'Cause the devil's got my arms And it pulls me back into the night 'Cause the devil's got my arms And it pulls me back into the night

I would rather forget and wash my memory clean Oh, I would rather forget and wash my memory clean I would rather forget (would rather forget) Wash my memory clean Oh, I would rather forget And wash my memory clean

7. “That’s What Heaven Feels Like” The Dirty Nil

I'm a million impulse decisions tonight Back in the city, howling, but I won't bite Bored of a certain safety Got me a death wish, baby

No, I don't believe in the long romance No, no, no Crash, leave a flaming vapor trail and Maybe one slow dance 'Cause you wouldn't know how it feels Under the tread of your wheels

Caught up like a canine Howling in your headlights Rolling through the windshield That's what heaven feels like

8. “Arsonist’s Lullabye” Hozier

When I was sixteen, my senses fooled me Thought gasoline was on my clothes I knew that something would always rule me I knew this scent was mine alone

All you have is your fire And the place you need to reach Don't you ever tame your demons Always keep them on a leash

When I was a man, I thought it ended When I knew love's perfect ache But my peace has always depended On all the ashes in my wake

9. “Let Me In” Snowmine

If you could you keep it together For a moment in time Then you'd see that I'd be Your excuse for a lover Your own mountain to climb You would see

I left my shoes under your bed But I left my body outside How did I get back into this mess? I kept telling myself the temptations would do me in And they did

10. “Heaven Help Us” My Chemical Romance

And will you pray for me? Or make a saint of me? And will you lay for me? Or make a saint of…

'Cause I'll give you all the nails you need Cover me in gasoline Wipe away those tears of blood again And the punchline to the joke is asking Someone save us

Heaven help us now Come crashing down And hear the sound As you fall

You don’t know a thing about my sins How the misery begins You don’t know So I’m burning, I’m burning I’m burning I’m burning again

11. “Strength Of The World” Avenged Sevenfold

Avenge the dead Killed all who crossed me in my path Suicidal I never planned on coming back I want it, I need it Revenge is dripping from my teeth Need nothing to feel power And bring the killers to their knees Nothing to lose, vengeance to gain (You know I’ll never be the same) So taste my breath, I'm close behind you (So desperate on your final day) Sorrow swallows my screams

Strength of the world is on my shoulders Strength of the world is on my side Strength of the world The one true beholder Ice in my veins for those who'll die

I've seen my family fade away You've taken my whole life There's nothing left to say

12. “We Are Nowhere And It’s Now” Bright Eyes

If you hate the taste of wine Why do you drink it 'till you're blind? And if you swear that there's no truth and who cares How come you say it like you're right? Why are you scared to dream of God When it's salvation that you want? You see stars that clear have been dead for years But the idea just lives on

I got no plans and too much time I feel too restless to unwind I'm always lost in thought As I walk a block To my favorite neon sign

I've been sleeping so strange at night Side-effects they don't advertise I've been sleeping so strange With a head full of pesticide

13. “Pain” Bilmuri

They abandon me 'Cause I'm not like them They hold me down And tell me what I am

I feel the death inside this place surround me I know that you will live only near to me

I feel the pain inside my lungs When you take away the ones that I love And I feel the pain with so few to trust When they fall away and say I'm not enough

When I have nothing, you're always with me, with me When I have nothing, I need you here, next to me Next to me

14. “The Brothel” Susanne Sundfør

Love I laid in payment Stars were stains in heaven and afterglow Beneath the ashes of echoes buried alive They are howling through hollows Once we share their temples Now our heads are hung up on walls

We are ruins within ruins On every corner a gladiator is begging for another century When no one cut your tongue To know nothing and to know it all To be both the animal and God

You cover your eyes You cover your mouth You cover your ears Still you follow my trail I’ll do all I’ll do whatever you say God has left me anyway

There are echoes in the garden Is anybody listening? There are echoes lost in the garden Is anybody listening? They whisper The ones who are only living Are the ones who are only dying

15. “Last Night I Watched Myself Sleep And I Saw Things That I Wish I Could Forget” Aurora View

A loss of breath, a pinch awake A melancholy kind of pain Hold out your tongue, let in the rain Keeping your eyes closed keeps you sane

What can you say when all of the words and all of the pain It won’t go away And you do, you do When nothing comes through I’m going insane I’m losing my faith

Feels abused and sedated It’s pulling me out of my skin But as I sway my intentions Despite misdirections Lead me back to where I begin

If I cut out my eyes What would I leave behind When monsters are all that I see? Cause I feel so alone And I hate to admit that I wish you away in my dreams

16. “Jesus Christ” Brand New

Well, Jesus Christ, I’m alone again So what did you do those three days you were dead? ‘Cause this problem’s gonna last more than the weekend Well, Jesus Christ, I’m not scared to die I’m a little bit scared of what comes after Do I get the gold chariot? Do I float through the ceiling?

Do I divide and pull apart? ‘Cause my bright is too slight to hold back all my dark And this ship went down in sight of land And at the gates does Thomas ask to see my hands?

I know you come in the night like a thief But I’ve had some time, o Lord, to hone my lying technique I know you think that I’m someone you can trust But I’m scared I’ll get scared and I swear I’ll try to nail you back up So do you think that we could work out a sign So I’ll know it’s you and that it’s over so I won’t even try I know you’re coming for the people like me But we all got wood and nails We turn, turn out hate in factories Yeah, we all got wood and nails We turn, turn out hate in factories Yeah, we all got wood and nails And we sleep inside of this machine

17. “Magnolia” Gang Of Youths

Still honking those horns, yeah, just drive around ‘Cause you’re all being ignored Deadpan and bright As I flip you the bird, I’m a pain in the ass Yeah, I’m a real piece of work Just waving my arms like some terrible mime And shaking my ass ‘till they kiss it goodbye Just show me the right things That I didn’t do Oh, enlighten me now With impossible love from the former you

Just tell everyone I know what I did, I did for us, and in haste ‘Cause I’m terrified of dying in vain

There’s no way tonight As far as I know That heaven will take me So I’m staggering home Wretched and wild All glory and trash Yeah, I’m drunk, but I’m ready To kick some fucking ass

No way tonight As far as I know That heaven will take me So I'm staggering home Fire of my loins, oh, light of my life We’re vastly outnumbered Every motherfucking time

#soundtrack

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ear-monstrosities · 4 years

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should've stayed, were there signs I ignored? (can I help you not to hurt anymore?) 1/1

Summary: Beca visits Chloe one last time

Rating: M

Notes: Title from One More Light- Linkin Park. SPOILER*** TW: Suicide TW: Car crash. first oneshot and its really fuckin sad, hope you enjoy :)

Read below or on AO3

REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

****

Beca’s beaten up car pulled to a whining stop on the gravel road. The fragments crunched under the weight of her tires. She took in a deep, steadying breath and slowly got out of the car. She didn’t move for several minutes. Of course, she knew exactly where to go, but this was the first time she had seen her grave since she died. The old, dead grass crunched under her feet as she slowly walked up to the seemingly untouched headstone. She crouched down and ran her fingers along the smooth grooves in the stone.

”Hey Chlo” Beca started. “I brought some flowers for you. I also have the yellow cup with me. You know this is the first time I’ve been up here since... it happened. Don’t think that I love you any less because I couldn’t come up here. No, I just physically couldn’t. Couldn’t get out of bed. Couldn’t move. I was broken. It’s not your fault though. It’s mine.”

”I should’ve talked to you more. I should’ve paid attention to the little things. I should’ve loved you better than I did. Maybe then you would still be here. Maybe I should’ve done a better job to care for you. I could’ve stopped this. I never should’ve left you that day. I should’ve stayed home. Maybe we could watch a movie. Twilight marathon? I know how much you loved that movie. Maybe Harry Potter. I don’t know, it would’ve been your choice. I would’ve fallen asleep after about an hour anyways. No biggie.”

”Anyways, back on track. I just came to tell you how much I love and miss you. You know I never thought the afterlife was real. I thought we just died and that’s that. But if it gives me something to hold onto, I’m gonna believe today. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, Chloe. I still remember the first day.”

-2012-

”Hi, any interest in joining our a capella group?” The redhead smiled and handed Beca a flyer.

”Oh right, this is like a thing now” Beca stated, warily watching the girl across from her.

-Present Day-

Beca chuckled, a short, dry laugh. “I kinda regret acting like that, but 18 year old me was a bit of a bitch. Of course, you knew that, but you still put up with me. Of course you did. You’re Chloe. Chloe Beale. You’ll always be Beale to me. You put up with my shit when no one else did. I never realized how great you were to me until you left. I still remember every time we went out for ice cream at 2 am. I still remember the innocent touches in Bellas rehearsal. I remember it all. How could I forget?”

-2013-

”Beca, please?” Chloe drew out the ‘e’ and pouted.

”Alright, alright, fine. I’ll take you to go get ice cream.” Beca relented and Chloe wrapped her in a bear hug.

...

“What kind do you want, Chlo?” Chloe stared at the case for a solid 3 minutes before finally shouting “Cookie dough!” Beca laughed and bought it for her.

”Gimme bite” Chloe demanded after they sat down.

”Why’d you make me buy Cookie Dough if you wanted my Cherry Blitz?” Beca mock glared as she gave her a bite.

”Tastes better from yours”

-Present Day-

”God Chlo, you never ate it all but ended up eating half of mine.” Beca laughed, a loud, boisterous sound. “You always took mine, even if you hated the flavor, you took it.”

”I think what I loved most about you is that you had such a big heart. You could absolutely hate someone, but give them a second chance because you thought they deserved it. I guess I’m kinda lucky there, ain’t I. You took so many chances on me, and I never took a chance on you. I did not once ask if you were truly doing okay. Feeling okay. I didn’t. I never checked up on you, and I should have. I should’ve given you the world, and I would’ve, but I never did. I thought you were happy Chlo-“ Her voice cracked and she paused for a few minutes.

”I thought you were happy all the time. You pretended you were. For me, you pretended. I should’ve made it clear you didn’t have to.” She looked up at the setting sun and let a tear run down her cheek.

”Guess it’s getting pretty late, huh. Well now for the real reason I’m here, how about it.” Beca took a deep breath.

”I guess I never told you this because I was afraid it’d change everything, but now it’s too late, and I have to say it now. I was- am- in love with you, Chloe. I always have been. Always will be. I should’ve told you before. I never did though, and I will always carry that with me. Chloe you were it for me. You were my person. My one and only. I will never stop loving you, and I will always be there for you, no matter what. I had the chance to save you from drowning, and I didn’t. I let you sink. I never had the chance to give you my air. So if this is the last you ever hear from me, know I love you so much. With every fiber of my being, I love you. I think I’ll play our song one more time”

Beca began to sing, tapping rhythms with the famous yellow cup effortlessly. She eased through every verse, never missing a beat. On the last word, she sobbed, a loud, crushing noise in the silent area.

Beca once again ran her fingers over the smooth stone divots, tracing the name of her love. She stood up, waved at the stone, brushed the dirt off her jeans, and started the trek back to her car.

When she got there, she noticed her window was cracked open just an inch and a small ladybug flew onto her steering wheel. Beca smiled and sobbed at the same time.

“I see you, Chloe. I see you” She spoke to the ladybug. She carefully put the ladybug on her finger and let her fly away. Eventually, she composed herself enough to drive and got into her car. While starting the car, she noticed a small CD case in her passenger seat that she had gotten from Chloe the day she passed. A suicide note, of sorts.

She began to pull out of the cemetery and onto the busy road as she put the CD in and pressed play. She heard a whirring noise, and a distinct sob before choked words came out of her speaker.

”I love you too, Beca.”

Beca was too distracted by the scratchy voice that came from the radio to notice the other car come flying down the wrong lane, it's tires screeching as the driver tried to stop.

She didn’t notice the glass shards fly from her windshield and into her neck, slicing the delicate skin that rests there.

She didn’t notice the hard plastic pin the lower half of her body, the strong bones crushed effortlessly under the car’s weight.

Never heard the scream of the other driver as they jumped out at the last minute.

She didn’t notice any of it.

The only thing going through her head were the words that had swept through her car merely seconds before.

“I love you too, Beca”

Beca’s eyes fluttered shut seconds before she took her last gasping breath.

I’m coming home Chlo.

I’m coming home.

#pitch perfect #bechloe #beca x chloe #chloe x beca #beca and chloe #chloe and beca #beca mitchell #chloe beale #one shot #fics #fanfic #ficlet #tragedy #tragic #sad

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keybladeciel · 3 years

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KHUX Week Day 6- Tragedy on the Fated Land

Synopsis: If only the Dandelions made it in time... (Set in a hypothetical scenario where both the Player and Strelitzia die) (From Ciel's first person view until the end. Then it shifts to Celeste's viewpoint.)

Themes: Keyblade War, Heartbreak, Sacrifice.

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, and Death.

Synopsis: If only the Dandelions made it in time.

(Ciel) I found myself looking at the scattered hearts flying up in the sky. This is what hell looks like and I never want to head back here after this war. I lasted against all the Foretellers and I was still standing. I was about to celebrate until I got impaled by a Keyblade. I quickly healed myself and whatever organs were damaged were easily healed... which have been none at all. "That ain't fair... CIEL!" I stood my ground against my opponent. It was kill or be killed and this was the bastard who killed Strelitzia. "No... YOU KILLED MY GIRLFRIEND!" I was about to kill the threat when Celeste showed up.

She tried to stop the rogue Keybearer from killing me, but was sent back after the rogue broke her ankle. "You ruthless... heartless... bastard! YOU'RE GONNA PAY FOR HURTING MY SISTER!" I'm pissed and I wanted to take revenge as soon as possible. But then I realized, what if revenge won't ease the pain of losing Strely? I accepted the truth and decided to disable my sister's attacker. But then he spoke. "You'll rue the day you messed with me, little girl. Nobody makes a mockery of a Knight of Bahamut." I instinctively threw myself into whatever Bahamut (what I'm calling him from now on) was about to throw at my sister... and then I heard a squelching sound. I looked down and found a Keyblade jammed into my chest. "Ciel!" Celeste screamed as I was recovering from the stab. I turned to Bahamut as he dove the Keyblade into my chest until my shirt was drenched in my blood. I didn't care. I slashed at Bahamut, pulled his Keyblade out of me and charged at him, slashing and stabbing wildly. I landed a fatal blow by impaling him with my own Keyblade.

Bahamut was dead as I saw his heart fly towards Kingdom Hearts. I won, but at what cost. I hobbled over to Celeste to tell her something. "I did it, Sis... I avenged... Strelitzia." I began to cough up blood. I tried to cast Curaga but to no avail. My magic was out. I then realized that I was dying. "You're dying, Ciel." "Cel, I never wanted a part in this Goddamn war to begin with. What's the damage?" "Hold on, Brother. I'll take you there." Ephemer and Skuld showed up and rushed me to the hospital.

"How bad is it?" "Very bad. He's got a punctured lung, a ruptured gallbladder, and his stomach has an ulcer. Miss Lumiere, I'm afraid Ciel might die." "No... I AM dying. I want to spend whatever time I have left with her." I made my point clear. I wanted to die with Cel in the room. "Celeste, tell Mom and Dad that I went down with a fight." I'm fighting my fatal injuries until I can fight no more. We took a walk to where Strelitzia buried her time capsule. Her will entrusted me to uncover it after the Keyblade War in the event she died. "Cel, this is the spot where... she buried her time capsule. Her will entrusted us to unearth it should she... die." My breathing was labored and I was getting colder. I can't do the deed myself. We headed back to the hospital where my friends where waiting. Everyone but Ètoile, Mog, and Lily were there. "What's wrong?" Soleil asked me. "I'm dying, Sol. I took a fatal blow for Cel during the war and-" Before I could finished I coughed up blood. I had to rest somewhere. Carina offered me her lap. "Ciel, she wants you." She might be Sol's girlfriend, but she still loved me as much as I loved her. "I love you." "I love you too... Carina." We shared our only kiss with each other and I rested my head on her lap. My temperature was at it's coldest and I saw Strelitzia extend her hand towards me. "It's time to come home, Ciel. Place your trust in Celeste to unearth our time capsule." I closed my eyes as my heart left my body.

(Celeste) "Time of Death: 7:30 PM" The doctor said as he witness Ciel close his eyes in happiness. He died on his own terms... but why? I pondered why my little brother would give his life for me without warning. He was covered everywhere in blood and he used the last inkling of strength he had to plan out his last requests. Ciel's final requests were to unearth a time capsule he and Strelitzia had buried, to take care of my family and friends, to watch over Ven, Lily, and Mog, and to let the world know he died a hero who believed in maintaining the balance of light and dark. We all cried as Ciel died before our eyes. I then realized that Ciel would be willing to die to protect the people he loves. Ciel loved me and he knew that I had to survive long enough to alert the Dandelions when I rushed in to save him. "Bury him with Strelitzia," I told my friends. "Ma'am, you're making a grave mistake." "Brain, let it go. Ciel was like a brother to me." "He's right. Celeste is making the right call. If she wants her brother to be with Strelitzia, then we'll bury him with her." When Daybreak Town finally fell and Scala ad Caelum was founded, I told my family the truth. "Ciel is dead. He fought until he bled out. He took a fatal blow for me when I rushed in to save him. When we returned, he showed me his last requests." I remember what Ciel told me. "Unearth the time capsule. Then bury me with Strely one last time." "Strely" being the nickname we used for Strelitzia. "Lastly, take care of my party, Cel. You are now a Dandelion Leader." With those two dead, the remaining Dandelions elected Alouette and I to take those positions. "Ciel died in what he believed in, Mom," Ètoile said tearfully. She then broke down. "He sure did," Mom replied. We all mourned as we had a wake and grand funeral for him and Strelitzia. Ciel had his normally messy hair combed until the wake was over. The coroner then restored his hair to it's curly state. We chose white for the my brother and his beloved, symbolizing their place in the light.

"Ciel was a heroic young man who found a heroic young woman in Strelitzia..." We all gave our speeches at the funeral until it was my turn. I was wearing a black dress that was appropriate for the setting. The weather was sunny, yet cold and wintery. "Ciel was the best brother I could have. He fought for what he believed in and did so with his dying breath. I was there when he took a fatal blow. While my knee has recovered since the War, the wound of losing my brother didn't. He dated a real cute girl too. Strelitzia, who had her shy demeanor replaced by a more social one when she dated my brother. I considered her a sister just as much as she considered me one. We acted and fought like sisters and we loved each other." I began to cry. "And I know that when she died, Ciel was angry. He wanted justice... and in that hellish war he did. He saw a threat to the Dandelions when the Unions were falling and he took out that threat with thr fury of a brother willing to protect his big sister. Even to this day, I remember his smile whenever Mom sent us her dipped madeleines or whenever we bought sea-salt ice cream. I remember Strelitzia's giggle whenever Ciel tickled her or when something funny happened. And I want to see and hear those two things again. Ciel and Strelitzia didn't die in vain, they died as heroes and as boyfriend and girlfriend. Death did them apart until Ciel sacrificed himself for me. And I'd do the same if he was about to die while unable to fight due to a bad knee." I stopped as I was about to be a blubbering mess when Mom hugged me. Then Lauriam hugged me, seeing me as a sister to him. Then his mom and dad hugged me before Dad hugged me. "I miss them, Mom." Somehow, I could sense Ciel and Strelitzia's soul. "Thank you, Sis. Mom, I love you... and I'm sure as hell gonna miss you while I'm gone," Ciel said. "Son, you saved all of us. You made me proud," Mom replied. She knew that it was his heart speaking. "Ciel, come on! We got a dance to tend to!" Strelitzia called out. The two are together in death... Ciel's afterlife could never be happier. I love you brother... and I know we'll be there soon. I placed a marker where Ciel was buried. "Here lies Ciel A. Lumiere. Beloved son, brother, and boyfriend. Renowned hero of the Dandelions" I then updated Strelitzia's grave "Here lies Strelitzia R. Evergreen. Cherished daughter, sister, and girlfriend. Heroine of Fairy Tales." Rest in peace you two.

(This is one of my saddest entries to date. Ciel and Strelitzia die and the story ends with the couple's funeral. The ending is bittersweet compared to the other enteries' endings being happy or light hearted. Sure, Ciel and Strelitzia die, but they are reunited in the Final World until the Replica Program occurs or their Heartless and Nobody die. This was the hardest story to write for this week, as it deals with the aftermath of the Keyblade War. Ciel sacrificing himself to save his sister and living long enough to detail his last request is a fitting end for a hero like him. Luckily, this is an alternate universe where neither he nor Strelitzia survive. So Ciel will be back for day 7.)

#khux #khux week #bittersweet #i fucking cried while writing this

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lepiidopterophobia · 1 year

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this is a bad land for gods. — @legacyfirst

"strange, i would have said something very similar about europa, had i access to it at the time. but you survived even there, more or less. perhaps more less than more, actually."

crossing one leg over the other, savathun leans back, resting her palms flat against the raised ground behind her. the city is unyielding; as unruly now as it was back when she-who-was wore osiris' face. and yet, and yet, and yet—

"i am starting to believe this world has no place for gods. or it won't, should it continue along this trend."

#legacyfirst #❝ AIN’T NO GRAVE CAN HOLD MY BODY DOWN ( IC. )#i swear i'll get a fancy graphic or something eventually but im old #im a grandpa #don't look at me #also this is a terrible starter i'm so sorry

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capriciouswrites · 4 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Otabek Altin & Yuri Plisetsky Characters: Otabek Altin, Yuri Plisetsky, Katsuki Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov Additional Tags: Slice of Life, Sex Talk, No Sex, Pining, Misunderstandings Series: Part 15 of ain't no grave can hold my body down Summary:

They’re sitting inside a cafe, drinking peach tea, before the next competition and Otabek is trying to memorialize the moment in his mind. This is what he misses the most in the off season — the thrill of competition is a very close second, but these quiet moments with Yuri…if he could have them all the time he would be completely happy.

Not that Yuri is every quiet for an extended period of time. Even now, without him speaking he’s near shouting with the bright colors and patterns he’s wearing.

Otabek finds it charming, despite himself sometimes.

#yuri x otabek #otabek x yuri #not totally pairing but there's pining so gonna tag it for tumblr at least #yoi #ain't no grave can hold my body down #welcome to fictober day 15 #oh god i'm going to die please save me

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embarrassingsmartphonegame · 4 years

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Anything (Chapter 5) - Nik Ryder x f!MC

Summary: After surviving an attempt on her life, she discovers there are worse fates than dying. And they’re all ice cold.

Warnings for this chapter: gun violence, swear words, and some fluff

Links to previous chapters: one // two // three // four

True to her word, Leah returned to Nik’s apartment a few hours later with more sleep under her belt than in the past three months. She smiled shyly as she walked into his apartment and noticed that he shaved his beard to his old neat stubble, and her stomach did a funny flip as he led her to his car. The two made disjointed small talk coupled with long bouts of silence; it was as if the events of the previous night hadn’t happened now that it was daylight and the two were more awake, more sober. And neither wanted to admit that they were surprised by the turn of events.

Leah still tried to wrap her head around the fact that not only did Nik not hate her after she suddenly left, but he was also willing to go with her to Lamrian on her wild goose chase to find herself. And Nik was still wary it was all a dream or a trick and that she wasn’t actually there with him, that he truly had lost her like he lost everyone else in his life. Both stole sneaky glances at the other as they drove Nik’s car and walked through the woods and eventually towards the vast, open fields to the cathedral guarding Lamrian quietly, still keeping a careful distance from each other.

“Soooo…” Leah began, keeping her eyes trained forward. “Anything weird happen at the Graveyard Shift while I was gone?”

“I mean...it’s always weird in this city,” Nik replied, his eyes also trained forward. “But Garrus and Krom are still going strong. Never seen either of ‘em that happy; it’s kinda cute but kinda gross.”

“Aww, that’s so great! They deserve each other!” Leah remembered that night she and Ivy convinced Krom to make a move since it was so painfully obvious they liked each other. “Is Ivy still making you hunt ghosts for her services?”

“Strangely enough, she hasn’t been accepting any requests lately,” Nik chuckled, shaking his head as he recalled the time Leah tagged along to hunt a ghost for Ivy. “I think she’s been busy with some research. Something about her New York vampire Internet friend’s friend dying and then turning into a vampire while being a Bloodkeeper, whatever that means. And I think trying out some human video games with that same friend.”

“Okay now that’s wild, complete bonkers. I hope that person’s okay; dying wasn’t exactly a walk in the park…” Leah shivered, all of a sudden feeling cold even in the late spring weather of Louisiana. She tried to block out the memories that plagued her for a good two months after she left New Orleans.

“I know I probably shouldn’t ask, but how did you cope after everything?” Nik asked, glancing at her to make sure she was okay. “I can’t even imagine what that was like for you. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“How did I cope? Well...I didn’t.” Leah laughed mirthlessly, a smile not quite reaching her eyes. “I think I already told you the majority of it: stuck with my boring office job, avoided my mom, tried to pass the time with hobbies but failed so I got drunk a lot and did a bunch of people and other bad stuff. But probably the worst thing I did was cut my own bangs at 4am.”

“...Seriously?”

“Yeah I was having a crisis.”

“Because you saw your best friend get attacked, were hunted down relentlessly by a genocidal monster, found out your dad’s a Fae lord, saw your dad die, and then you died?” Leah blinked as he listed it all out in one breath; had she really been talking about it that much?

“Well...okay yeah pretty much. But also because I turned 25.”

Nik paused, confused. “What does that have to do with anything? Is that seriously a crisis?”

“A mid- okay fine not really, quarter-life crisis.” Leah let out a small laugh as she hazily remembered her conversation with Kristin, shaking her head and putting her hands in her pockets. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“I’m only a year younger than you, rook.”

“Then we’ll have a talk a year from now.”

Nik let a grin spread across his features. “That mean you’ll still be here a year from now?”

Leah shifted her eyes for a moment, and when she spoke again her voice was the perfect mix of playful and sincere. “Maybe.”

The two paused as they reached their destination. The castle guarding Lamrian loomed over them, its broken windows staring down at Leah like judgment. Leah felt very small. She felt as if she was a specimen on a petri dish placed under a microscope, and the Fae just behind those magical doors were scrutinizing her every being.

Leah froze in fear, and she could feel the panic rising in her tight, tight chest. Nik noticed her expression and instinctively took one of her hands in his, giving it a small squeeze. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. And I’m with you every step of the way.”

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t get a hold of her emotions, no matter how hard she tried or what she told herself she needed to do. Tears sprung on the corners of her eyes and ran down her face freely, and big, gasping sobs escaped from her mouth. She wrenched her hand from his, turned her back to the castle, and started walking away. Leah was hunched over and her hands grasped each other as she walked with Nik following her.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Leah could only see red, and that red was directed at herself. “I really dragged you out here for nothing! Why can’t I fucking face them?!”

Nik stopped her by placing his hands on her shoulders and turning her around so they were face-to-face. “Rook...breathe.”

She shook her head, trying to will the tears away but failing and launching into an anxiety-fueled. “Ugh, this is pathetic and embarrassing. I never should’ve stepped foot in Lamrian and I keep dragging you into my problems. I drag everyone into my problems! Kristin’s probably still paying for an entire week of hospital bills, Vera had to face her mom, Cal had to go against his pack, you and Katherine risked your lives by hunting Thomas down...fuck! When this was all happening, I should’ve just ignored you and stood in an open field and let the Bloodwraith—”

She was cut off by him pulling her into his strong arms, squeezing her so tightly she had no choice but to stop talking. “Don’t. I mean it, rook. Goddammit.”

“Why do you keep helping me?” she sobbed into his shoulder. “All I do is drag you down.”

He rubbed her back tenderly. “Because I want to. I care so damn much about you, rook, you have no idea.”

Before Leah could respond, the sound of someone clearing their throat came from behind them. Nik instantly positioned his body in front of hers, his crossbow aimed at the voice before Leah could even blink. He put it down once they realized that it was the same Fae guarding Lamrian. His lips were set in a straight line and his eyes devoid of any emotion, a soldier on duty.

“Daughter of Lamrian,” he kneeled reverently as he spoke. “You have returned. Welcome. Let me lead the way.”

“Thank you. But unfortunately, I can’t come inside. It’s not the right time.” Leah steadied her breath. She appreciated the fact that he ignored her crimson red eyes and shaky voice. “But will you please relay a message for Lady Thalissa for me?”

“Anything you wish is my command.”

“Please tell her that Lord Elric loves her and will be waiting for her. And that I’m sorry for everything that happened and will one day return. Just...not today.”

He nodded and straightened up, preparing to relay the message. Leah stopped him. “And also...this is for the people of Lamrian: I’m sorry. I’m just sorry that they lost a leader and an heir because of me.”

The Fae guard nodded again, his lips in a thinner, harsher line; Leah could have sworn that his eyes displayed hints of anger and grief before they fell into the trained dutiful expression. She let him walk away, and when he was finally out of sight in the castle she let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding.

“You did the right thing, rook.”

“Then why do I still feel so shitty?”

The two began to walk back to Nik’s car and eventually reached the woods. “It’d be weird if you didn’t feel like shit. It’s a lot, and sometimes you feel like you’re never gonna get out of that tunnel. But you will. And I’m here.”

“Nik, I--” But Leah was cut off by Nik suddenly shouting and tackling her to the ground as a knife embedded itself to the tree right behind where their heads were seconds before.

“Son of a bitch…” Nik muttered, quickly dragging them both back to their feet. “Can’t catch a break for one day!”

“What the fuck was that?!” Leah ran with him through the woods, her hand attached to his.

“He’s back. Remember that shapeshifter I pissed off? He must’ve followed us.”

“That I did, Ryder,” a snide, mocking voice replied from behind a tree. A man dressed in all black stepped out of the shadows. “A little birdie over your shoulder as you paid attention to your little girlfriend here.”

“For fuck’s sake, Mark, it was nothing personal. Grave robbing is a sick, sick thing to do!” Nik got into a fighting stance with his crossbow on his shoulder and Leah directly behind him.

“You just can’t appreciate the intricacies of a human bone broth soup!”

Leah grimaced in disgust and poked her head out to the side of Nik’s body. “Ugh, that’s what you were using it for? That’s messed up.”

Mark’s eyes flashed with rage, putting his hands in his pockets. “Just shut up, and you’re dying with him!”

“To hell with you!” Nik shot several arrows at him, and Mark rolled out of the way and back into the shadows. “Leah, stay out of the way!”

“I’m not letting you do this alone!” Leah stubbornly replied, running after him hunting down the shapeshifter. She channeled all of her energy into her palms, but to no avail. “Seriously, let me help!”

“You can help by keeping yourself safe!”

“He’s right; this ain’t a place for ya, missy.” Mark threw another knife from the shadows, and Nik deftly avoided it and more arrows. But Mark turned into a crow and flew above their heads to avoid the attack.

He landed on a tree and turned into a jaguar, and promptly lunged at the both of them from above. Leah managed to get out of the way but Nik punted him in the abdomen with a powerful kick. Mark landed a few feet away, groaning in pain and back in his human form. But within seconds he pulled a pistol out and started shooting at them. Nik and Leah ran in a zig-zag formation with the murderous shapeshifter hot on their heels.

“Arghhh!” With Leah a few feet ahead, Nik suddenly went down, clutching the side of his right thigh. He pulled his hand away for a moment to assess the damage, and Leah could see a linear laceration on his skin from where the bullet grazed his leg.

Leah watched in horror as the shapeshifter suddenly appeared above Nik, a heavy boot on his hand nearest to his crossbow and the gun aimed at his head. Mark grinned maliciously. “Nighty night, Nighthunter.”

“NOOO!” Leah shouted, sprinting towards the barrel of the gun and blindly pushing her hands out in front of her. All of a sudden two identical blasts of light bounded from the palms of her hands, both hitting Mark square in the face. The skin and nerves on her hands were burning, but she didn’t notice or care, adrenaline pumping through her vasculature. She could feel a power, a deep and great power bursting forth from her core. With a shriek, she sent more blasts towards Mark, the power boundless and suddenly at her disposal to do what she wanted. And all she could focus on was destroying Mark.

“Leah! Leah!” A seemingly far away voice called her name, but it didn’t register until she felt two arms wrap around her from behind. “Come back to me! Rook!”

Leah stopped blasting at her target, and a white haze that she didn’t even realize was present suddenly dissipated from her vision. She finally realized where she was, and that she was responsible for the pile of ashes on the ground where the shapeshifter once stood. Leah fell to her knees and Nik went down with her, refusing to let go.

“I...I did that,” Leah whispered, looking down at her trembling hands. “My powers...they’re back!”

“You saved my life, rook.” Nik held her with one arm as he pressed down on the wound on his leg. “That was...that was the most power I’ve ever seen from someone.”

Maybe it was the fact that their faces were suddenly so close to each other, or maybe it was the fact that they avoided certain death again. Maybe it was the silence gathering around them, warm and electric. Maybe it was the tenderness in his expression as he held her. Leah brought one hand up to his cheek and pressed their lips together softly, and they both sighed in relief as they kissed. A warm, gentle rain misted around the pair. Leah pulled away, and both sported giddy, shy smiles.

“Not how I expected today to go...but this is perfect...well, perfect for us.” Leah hauled him up and to his feet and tied her light jacket around his thigh as a makeshift tourniquet. “Best way I could help was staying out of the way, huh?”

Nik shook his head in disbelief as they walked. “You are the most bullheaded and impossible woman I’ve ever met. I would be dead now if it weren’t for you.”

“Nik…” Leah began seriously. She knew what she finally had to do. “What happened today...I want to be with you. As your partner, both personally and professionally.”

His eyes met hers, and he searched for any signs of hesitation only to find none. His face was completely relaxed for the first time since she met him, and it sent her heart fluttering. “Are you sure about this?”

“You’re a mess...and I’m a mess.” She shook her head, chuckling incredulously. “But that just might be why we’re perfect for each other. I’m in love with you, and I think I’ve always known it. Being your partner is what I want, if you’ll have me.”

“Goddammit, Leah…” He laughed with her before he spoke again, his voice vulnerable and sincere. “I love you too. I want you with me every second, from the moment I wake up to when I rest my head. I want you with me in the trenches, and then I want you with nothin’ at all between us.”

Every word lifted a heavy weight off her heart, and Leah beamed as she took Nik’s hand. “That’s all I want, too...partner.”

The now-official couple reached Nik’s car, but instead of getting in, Nik opened his trunk. Leah quirked an eyebrow. “Getting something?”

“You could say that,” Nik replied, stepping out from behind the car with his hands behind his back. “I’ve had this in here since the day you got out of the hospital, and I couldn’t bear to even look at it. Now that you’re back, though…”

“Are you...nervous?” Leah couldn’t help the teasing, amused tone in her question as she noticed his blush. She had to admit it was odd yet slightly satisfying seeing him squirm.

“...You left this.”

Nik held out her cherry red leather jacket, the same one he gave her on her first night in New Orleans. Leah ran her hands down the soft, worn leather, smiling softly. “You really kept this all this time?”

“Well...yeah.” Nik rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Maybe I hoped that you’d come back one day.”

“Well you were right, Mr. Nighthunter.” Leah put the jacket on, relishing in the familiarity of the cool leather and smell of the bayou. “How do I look?”

Nik smiled brightly. “Like it was made for you, Ms. Nighthunter.”

She sidled up to the driver’s side of the car mischievously. “Awesome, now get in.”

“Wait, what? Who said you were driving?”

“You got shot in the leg! I need to take you to the hospital!”

The pair continued to bicker the entire ride to the emergency room, and amidst the chaos Leah grinned; she wouldn’t have it any other way. Everything was different, but maybe it would be okay after all.

==============================================

A/N: Andddd after almost 4 months (!!!)...I’m back on this series with a real chapter. Thank you so much to whoever has stuck with reading every chapter; this is my first time actually writing a multi-chapter fic. There’s one chapter left before I move on to my next Nightbound series, which is pretty much a sequel to this story and the canon story. I hope you enjoyed this, and I welcome any and all comments!

Tagging: @furiouscloddonutpeanut @nighthunterkatherine @saivilo @samara-rani @god-save-the-keen @xxdangerouscapri15xx @inlovewithrebels

#nightbound #playchoices #choices: stories you play #nik ryder #nik x mc #nik ryder x mc #choices fanfiction #choices #pixelberry #playchoices fanfiction #nightbound nik #phoebe writes choices #(and finally updates this fic after 4 months lol)

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