I want their fuckin freedom they have no chores no responsibility they can go out with their friends when ever they want for however long they want they can sleep in there bed all day they eat drink drive vehicles use the phone have a home with no bills no expenses they can spend their money on stupid things that bring them joy with no worry of the gas they burned in someone else's vehicle or if there's dinner at home they have no worries about laundry no worries about dishes no worries about the messes they make because they know I'll clean it up always I want to be viewed by my family and by my friends as someone who is an actual person with limits and boundaries and who has goals and dreams they'd like to accomplish in the day besides laundry for 16 people and not a tireless cleaning machine. I want to be able to rest and have hobbies I want to be able to do things with my partner and my friends again I want to be able to fuckin daydream and make up stories again for Christ sake I want to feel like a person and not a corpse forced into playing "tradwife" I want the freedom they all have while I'm in the background doin they're dishes.

off limits.

·˚ ༘⌗ someone had caught langa's attention, and reki being the supportive friend that he is, decided to help langa score a date with them, all without knowing they were joe's precious little sibling.

·˚ ༘⌗ hasegawa langa x gn!reader

·˚ ༘⌗ warnings: langa's shitty flirting, fluff, im using ASH as ur name in S lol sorry if u hate it, long-ish ig

gen masterlist.       sk8 masterlist.

"yeah! go ASH!" "damn! they're so cool!"  "ASH! come take a picture with us!"

you simply grinned and waved to the crowd as they repeatedly chanted your name and cheered you on. you had just won a beef against your very own brother kojiro, or better known as JOE, and everyone was going crazy.

"well then, i win so you know what to do, right JOE?" you smirked tauntingly as your brother sighed in exasperation "yeah, yeah" he rolled his eyes "im doing laundry for this month as we previously agreed upon" he said

you snickered and waved him goodbye before rushing off to MIYA. you and him were fairly close friends since you were both candidates for japan's national team and often meet up outside of 'S'

"woah.." langa said with a gasp as his eyes followed your form. reki raised a brow in confusion as he followed langa's line of sight.

"langa? whats wrong?" reki asked. "ASH.." langa responded. his eyes were glimmering with amazement and adoration as a bright and sparkly aura surrounded him.

"oh, them?" reki hummed "they're really cool, huh? their tricks were really amazing" he said

langa simply sent you one last glance before reluctantly averting his attention towards reki. "reki! i think.. i think i like ASH" langa admitted with a blush

"eh?! like, like like them? or-" langa cut him off with a frantic nod, making reki scream out in surprise

"eh?! that's awesome! go talk to them then!" reki exclaimed as he tried to push langa towards your direction. "no! i can't!" langa panicked as he tried to plant himself in his spot

"yeah you can!" reki laughed "just go for it!" langa shook his head in distress and tried to run away, although reki caught him by his collar just in time.

"but i don't know what to say! they might find me weird!" langa exclaimed. reki hummed before nodding in agreement. "yeah, you're right. then you'll never get a chance if that happens"

langa paled as a look of dread and fear had dawned upon his features. reki immediately took notice and frantically patted his back to calm him down. "no, no! it's fine! you just gotta practice what to say first so you don't mess it up when you finally talk to them!" reki said

langa nodded with determination. "you're right, reki" he said. "so you'll help me right?" he sent reki an expectant look, making the latter gulp.

"ofcourse!" reki exclaimed "with my help, you'll score a date with them in no time!"

"um-hey, uh how's it-"

"no!! wrong wrong wrong!!" reki exclaimed as he shook his head in disappointment "we've gone over this! we've practiced for a week straight!" he sighed out in exasperation

they were currently at a convenience store parking lot, practicing langa's lines and flirting skills for when he finally musters up the courage to approach you.

"just be cool! be natural! you're too stiff" reki said as he lightly punched langa in the chest. "it's too hard" langa sighed dejectedly "i can't do it"

reki frowned and slapped langa's back, making him yelp. "you can do this! miya said they're really nice so you don't have anything to worry about" reki said in reassurance

"yeah, i guess" langa said with a pout "but im just-"

he yelped as he suddenly collided with another person, his foot had been caught up in his board, causing him to slip and for the other to stumble.

"ah, im so sorry!" you said as you frantically grasped his wrist just before he could fall to the ground. thankfully, you were able to balance yourself and catch him in the process.

"wait-" reki's eyes widened "you're.. ASH?!" you then grinned and set him a wave "hey! you're reki right? miya mentioned you a few times now" you said

"but you probably shouldn't address me as that when we're outside. it's against the rules you know?" you mused with a kind smile "just call me y/n"

"i-i uhm.. you-" langa stammered out. "hm?" you hummed in confusion as you turned around to face a red-faced langa, who seems to be in the brink of combustion at the moment. you followed his eyes down to your hand, which was still holding his wrist, and immediately let go. "oh, sorry dude! you're the rookie right?" you cooed out with a grin

"nice to meet you. i've seen you skate before, you're really good" you complimented him with a suave smirk

"..." langa didn't respond and simply looked at you with sparkling eyes and a blank expression, making reki face-palm in the background

"uh, you alright, langa?" you asked with a chuckle "you look real red right now" you grinned and jokingly elbowed him "it's not cause you like me or anything right?" you teased

"NO!" langa exclaimed. both you and reki blinked in shock while langa simply shook his head with a shaky smile "i mean-no i do! but not like that! but i don't don't like you-"

he suddenly cleared his throat upon receiving a silent signal from reki, making you smile in amusement. "so uh- what's an eye candy like you doin in a place like this?" he asked in a 'flirtatious' tone, though it only came out awkwardly and forced due to his aloof and blunt nature.

you chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly "not much. just shopping" you replied as you showed them the grocery bags filled with ingredients for kojiro's restaurant. "why? wanna take me elsewhere?" you teased

you laughed and lightly nudged him with your hip. " 'm just messing with you! you're too serious, loosen up will you?" you chuckled. "r-right!" langa laughed nervously as he silently marveled at you and your angelic laughter. "seriously," you grinned "you don't have to be so nervous. i don't bite you know?"

"well, unless you want me to" you grinned cheekily as a his face exploded into a bright shade of red. "oh.. is that so.." he stammered out

langa had once again fallen into silence as he settled for ogling at your side profile with his eyes sparkling with adoration. reki sweat dropped and nervously chimed in as to not make things awkward.

"so, y/n-san" reki said with a nervous smile "you're a really cool skater! and you also remind me of someone i know" he said

"oh well then you're probably talking about my brother. i heard you often hang with him in and outside of S" you said

"your brother?" reki and langa mumbled out in confusion. you nodded "yeah it's-" you were cut off by the ringing of your phone, making you shoot the two boys an apologetic smile and a wave goodbye.

"sorry guys, i gotta go. but maybe next time we can hang!" you said as you start to skate away. but just before you could get too far, you stop in your tracks and shoot langa a wink.

"catch you later, snow~" you cooed before finally disappearing from their sight, leaving behind a flustered langa and a surprised reki.

langa blinked one last time before dramatically falling down onto the floor like a melted puddle, his face bright red and a hazy smile grazing his lips.

"LANGA?!?"

"geez, you really need to keep your shit together." reki sighed "y/n was clearly flirting with you and you didn't even make a move." he said

langa frowned and nodded, "yeah, i guess i was just nervous. and it's a little awkward too.." he said. reki deadpanned and slapped him by his nape "dumbass! it's only awkward cus you make it like that!" he exclaimed

langa winced and shuffled away from reki "ouch! yeah, yeah, i'll do better next time.." he muttered with a pout.

they stopped as they arrived at kojiro's restaurant, they were there to meet up with the others for a friendly hangout. "hey guys!!" reki greeted them with a grin

"oh, the slime is here." miya said as he continued to play on his phone, not even looking up once. "oi! im no slime!" reki whined as he tackled miya in a hug, much to the latter's annoyance.

"hm? what's wrong, langa?" kaoru asked with a hum as he took notice of langa, who seemed more out of it that usual.

"oh, langa's thinking of ways on how to flirt with this person he likes!" reki exclaimed with a cheeky grin as he teased his friend. "a crush?" kaoru mused

"you're too young for that" joe said with a laugh "but if you need help, then im definitely the right person to go to" he followed up with a smirk

kaoru simply bonked him in the head with his fan and sighed. "you are definitely the worst person to come to." he said

joe gritted his teeth and glared at his pink haired friend, before huffing and facing langa once more. "so, who exactly is this crush of yours?" he cooed

langa blushed and sheepishly turned his head away, "its no one.." he muttered.

"it's ASH." miya chimed in with a smug grin "aka y/n. those two slimes have been asking me about them for the past week. it's honestly sad." he snickered.

kaoru and kojiro's face paled while langa simply turned into a blushing mess.

"wait-" kaoru gulped "y/n.. y/n as in kojiro's-"

"nii-san!" your voice emitted from the kitchen "i finished putting the groceries in the back room" you said

you walked into the room, untying the apron around your waist as you make your way towards your brother.

only then did you notice all their eyes trained on you, especially langa, who looked like his eyes were about to pop off with how much he'd widened them.

"umm.." you mumbled out sheepishly "is everything alright?" you asked

kojiro slowly walked up to langa with a dark look in his eyes, much to langa's horror. "oi, rookie." kojiro called out, his tone laced with malice

langa yelped and immediately shielded himself behind reki "i can explain.." langa muttered with a nervous smile

"explain what?" kojiro scowled. his muscular arms pulled you towards him, much to your confusion, and held you protectively against his chest.

"that you're flirting around with my baby sibling!!?!" kojiro exclaimed

"NO!" langa denied "well uh- kind of.. but i only did it once and-reki! help me!" he gave reki a look of helplessness.

reki gulped as kojiro's glare had averted towards him. "ah, joe! it's just that-langa here thought y/n-san was very alluring, right?" he mused, to which langa nodded along.

"so uh-we asked miya some things about her.. but miya never told us they was your sibling!!" he exclaimed

miya simply gave them a cat-like grin, smiling and giggling to himself as he innocently looks around the place.

"that doesn't excuse your actions, you punks!" kojiro bonked them both in the head

"let me get this straight.. y/n is off limits. got that?" he glared at langa "no flirting, no dating, no boyfriends."

you scowled and wiggled yourself free from his hold. "what the hell are you talking about?" you crossed your arms over your chest as you look at your brother expectantly.

"wha- y/n you're too young!" kojiro shrieked "im not a kid, you know?" you sweat drop

"you're younger than me, which means you're a kid. so no boyfriends." kojiro huffed "kaoru help me out here!!" he said

kaoru simply sipped on his drink and sighed. "i personally don't have any problems if y/n chooses to date." he says in a calm tone

but it soon changed into a look of malice as he looms over langa's shoulder. "but if you hurt them, i will surely be teaching you a lesson." he muttered in a low tone "alright?"

langa yelped and nodded. "right!" he exclaimed

you sighed and bonked both kaoru and kojiro in the head, pushing them away despite their protests, and approached langa.

"don't mind them." you said "they're just overprotective. most of it were empty threats anyways!" you laughed

langa gulped as he looked at the two over your shoulder with dread. "im pretty sure those threats weren't empty..." he muttered

you laughed and took his hand, flipping it over to reveal his wrist. you then took a pen from your pocket and wrote your number down onto his skin.

"i gotta go, but when you have time, give me a call okay?" you cooed with a smirk

langa watched with sparkling eyes as you gave him a flirty wink before taking your board and walking out of the restaurant.

"bye~" you cooed with a wave before skating away

"i- what?! did my baby sibling just give some guy their number?!" kojiro shrieked in horror

"you act like you don't do the same thing in a daily basis" reki sweat dropped

reki then turned to langa, who was still staring at the digits on his wrist with a blushing face. "so, are you gonna call them?" reki mused

"like hell you will!!" kojiro scowled

"i will!" langa exclaimed with a determined look

"oi! didn't you hear me?!" kojiro snarled "don't call them! they're off limits! oi, listen to me!!" he groaned in aggravation

"joe, im gonna ask them to be my s/o!" langa said with a straight face as he stared at joe with a hopeful glint in his eyes

"NO!!"

"im doing it anyway!"

the rugby shirt incident

Summary: Jonathan was beginning to think he’d gone crazy as he desperately searched for his missing rugby shirt. Surely, it’d turn up eventually, right? Maybe you’d have an idea as to where it was. (College AU)

Author’s Note: I’m once again glad that y’all are constantly humoring me and my Very Specific ideas. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!!

Jonathan awoke and upon checking the time, 7:30 AM on a Monday, of all days, realized that if he didn’t attempt to crawl out now, he’d be stuck forever. As he blearily glanced around the room, his eyes landed on you, cuddled up to his chest as you slept soundly beside him.

God, his heart broke to leave you here like this.

Knowing he would be late for class if he didn’t escape, he gently began to slip his arm out from under you, eyes focused on your face to catch any signs of disturbance. With his arm removed, now came the hard part. 

As quietly and slowly as possible, Jonathan began maneuvering his giant body over yours, shifting and moving all of his limbs one at a time until his feet finally landed on the floor. With one last look at your sleeping form, he began getting ready for the day.

“JoJo? What’re you doin’?” You mumbled, tucking your head into the pillows to shield your eyes from the morning sunlight streaming through the gaps in the curtains.

No, he thought, but I was so careful.

“Oh love, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you, but I have to get to class.”

“S’okay,” you replied, mind and body still clouded with sleep, “Have a good day.”

He couldn’t stop the grin from lighting up his face, “You too, sweetheart. I love you.”

“Love you.”

With your sleepy affirmation and after a soft kiss to your forehead, Jonathan was ready to start his day.

You, on the other hand, not so much. 

Even with another hour of rest under your belt, climbing out of Jonathan’s bed began to seem damn near impossible. Willing yourself to just get up already, you ripped off the sheets and began collecting your own things. As you slipped a pair of socks on, you felt a shiver run down your spine and goosebumps rise on your skin. A problem, you thought, that could only be solved in one way.

His rugby shirt.

Shoving notebooks into your backpack, you caught sight of the green and white striped collared shirt slung over the back of Jonathan’s desk chair. 

As your relationship with Jonathan got more serious, you had been itching to get your hands on his uniform. The hugs you’d given him after games had clued you in to just how soft it was, only fueling your obsession with the article of clothing. Taking the shirt into your hands, you brought it up to your nose. It smelled just like his cologne mixed with something so uniquely him that it made you swoon. You really couldn’t explain it, but the man just smelled heavenly no matter what and you were about to take full advantage.

Not only did he smell so good, but Jonathan was also huge, so you were positively swimming in the shirt, sleeves way past your hands, hem drifting down your thighs. Deciding to give yourself at least somewhat of a shape, you tucked part of the front into your pants.

“Jonathan really is huge.” You chuckled, turning from side to side as you glanced into his mirror.

Beginning to warm up and surrounded by the comforting scent of your beloved boyfriend, you were finally ready to start your day.

Jonathan’s roommate, Speedwagon, watched as you hustled out the door of their apartment, rushing to slip your shoes on, an all too familiar rugby shirt hanging off your body.

Oh, this was gonna be good, he thought.

After a long day of classes, Jonathan returned to the apartment to get his things together for rugby, thankful that it was nothing more than a simple practice. As he stuffed his socks into his duffle bag, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

He could have sworn his uniform had been right there, draped over the back of his chair. With the offending shirt nowhere in sight, he flung open drawers and rifled through his closet, but to no avail.

“Speedwagon?” He called, sticking his head out into the hallway.

“Yeah?” Robert called back, mirroring his roommate’s actions to see what was the matter, “What is it?”

“Have you seen my rugby shirt? I can’t find it anywhere.”

Biting back a smile, Speedwagon feigned ignorance, “I don’t do your laundry, JoJo. I have no idea where it is.”

“Thanks anyway.”

Moving back into his room, he worked through a million different places it could be. After deciding that it was definitely not left behind in his anthropology class, Jonathan assumed that Dio must have taken it for one reason or another.

With a sigh, he ventured off to practice, grateful that he didn’t necessarily need it today.

“Dio, did you take my rugby shirt?”

The sneer Dio gave him nearly had Jonathan doubling back, “Why would I take your stinky, sweaty clothes, JoJo?”

“I don’t know,” Jonathan replied accusingly, “You stole it that one time to make me look bad.”

“Tch, yeah, one time. It’s not funny if I keep doing it now is it?” Dio bit back, refusing to give his adoptive brother any more attention.

Jonathan rolled his eyes.

After a successful practice, Jonathan dragged his tired body home, quick to shower and collapse into bed, still thinking about where his shirt had gone.

Days passed and the loss of his rugby jersey began to manifest in a worsening mood the longer it was gone, the situation exacerbated by the fact that he hadn’t so much as seen you since Monday morning. You were just as busy as he was, he knew that, but he missed the feeling of your skin in his hands and the sound of your laugh.

After another long, exhausting day, Jonathan decided enough was enough and headed off to your apartment.

He knocked and knocked, but still received no answer. He could’ve sworn your Friday class was out already… Right? Just as he brought a fist up to knock again, the door was being pulled open.

There you were, wearing his rugby shirt that was entirely too large for you, rubbing sleepily at your eyes with the sleeves.

“JoJo? What are you doing here?”

Without answering, he gripped at the extra fabric at your waist to pull you close to his chest, pressing his lips to yours. As he felt your lips move against his, he relished in your warmth and the soft material between his fingers.

When he pulled away, he couldn’t help but stare down at you in wonder, moving his hands up to gently cradle your face. “You look so cute. I’ve been looking for this shirt.”

“Sorry,” you replied sheepishly, “I just had to steal it. It looked way too comfy.”

You watched as a rosy blush spread across his cheeks as he rushed to whisk away your apology. “No, no, it’s fine... I just- why would you want to wear my smelly rugby shirt?”

It was your turn for embarrassment. “Well, I-I don’t think it smells all that bad. It just smells like... like you. I like it.”

Bringing a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck, Jonathan didn’t even think he could force himself to speak. You liked the smell? Of his rugby shirt? Of him? He’d never heard that before. 

“You do?”

“Mhm,” you murmured, pushing your lips against his again, “Now, do you wanna come inside or not?”

“Yes please.”

You couldn’t keep track of the amount of times you’d caught Jonathan’s gaze, giggling as his eyes shot away from yours the moment he’d noticed you staring back.

“You can take a picture, if it’d make it easier,” you teased, butting your head against his shoulder.

“I just like seeing you in my clothes, you should take them more often, but uh-” He replied, chuckling as he slung an arm around your shoulders.

“But what?”

“I do have a match this weekend, so I’ll need it back.”

“Mmm, I don’t know, JoJo,” you joked, pretending to think it over, “this shirt might be too good to give up.”

With a sudden surge of confidence, Jonathan tilted your chin up to lock eyes with you, lips dangerously close to yours, “I could think of one way I could get it back.”

Meet the Parents

Pairing: Cordell x Trevor x Stella 

Rating: 18+

Summary: When Stella brings her boyfriend home from college to stay the weekend, they are planning on doing a bit more than just “spending the night together”... and it certainly turns out to be more than that once Cordell overhears them in Stella’s room.  

Word Count: 4.7k

Created for: @walker-bingo​ Free Space | @anyfandomgoesbingo​ Meet the Parents/Family

Tags/Warnings: Incest, Father/Daughter Incest, Threesome, fingering (f and m rec), oral (f rec), rimming, instruction kink, daddy kink, p in v, p in a, condoms, creampie 

A/N: I’m going to hell, please come keep me company. 

Stella had gotten back from college earlier that afternoon, usual bag of laundry in tow, but she had some extra baggage this time - the boyfriend. Cordell has heard whispers of ‘the boyfriend’ from August, who spoke to his sister a little more regularly than he did, not surprisingly. No eighteen year-old fresh out of their parents’ house wants to be texting their father 24/7, but he would have appreciated some kind of heads up that they were expecting company for the weekend. 

Cordell’s sitting in the den, bourbon in hand, listening to the crickets outside chattering away, but they aren’t quite loud enough to drown out the soft giggles and whispers that are leaking from Stella’s room right now. He feels his hand clench around his glass almost like it’s a phantom limb, everything feels numb except for his ears, burning with the strain of trying to listen to what Stella and Trevor might be saying. He’s confident that whatever it is they are talking about, he doesn’t actually want to overhear the conversation. 

Draining the remainder of his drink, Cordell makes his way to the counter to pour a refill. 

He wasn’t going to bed until he knew for a fact that everyone else had gone to sleep, and from the sounds of it, Trevor and Stella weren’t exactly close to settling in. There’s a short burst of laughter and a ‘shh’, and Cordell looks up at his daughter’s closed bedroom door, moodily. 

His mind flashes back to his baby girl sneaking into the kitchen an hour ago, small pyjama shorts riding up far too high, clearly rooting through the fridge for some beers to sneak back to her room. She’d jumped when Cordell cleared his throat behind her, sitting forwards from his spot on the couch, so the light of the refrigerator caught on his stern face. 

“Whatcha doin’ there, Stella Blue?” 

“Hi, Dad,” she squeaks, tucking her hands behind her in the fridge. “Just, um,” she scrambles for something out of sight, “grabbing this.” Stella pulls a soda from behind her back. 

“Really?” Cordell smirks, not angry, he’d been expecting something like this - that’s why he was up and sitting on the couch, waiting. “Caffeine? At this hour?” Even August, teenage boy obsessed with the internet that he is, had turned out his lights and gone to bed a little while ago. 

“I - uh…” Stella grimaces. 

“Why don’t you put that back, Stels?” He feels his lips tighten and brows furrow in his best attempt at ‘stern dad’ without looking angry. For a moment, Stella looks like she’s going to argue but then she thinks better of it, puts away the soda, and slinks back to her room, shutting the door softly behind her. 

Another giggle breaks him from his reverie and his hand closes into a fist against the cold granite counter, fighting the urge to knock and tell them to go to bed. He downs the new measure of bourbon he’s just poured out, desperately wishing he could erase some of the things he’s heard tonight. But the alcohol and the burning in his throat do nothing to block out the soft groan that slips from beneath his daughter’s door. 

It was so quiet, he isn’t positive he’d heard it. And his Ranger brain kicks in, trying to find any possible explanation for what the noise could have been; the wind outside, an animal in the ranch paddock… the creak of a bed spring. That is definitely what the new sound he’s just heard is – a muffled squeak as bodies shift on a too old mattress and less than well-oiled box spring. It’s quickly followed by another quiet groan, and Cordell grits his teeth and takes a long swig of bourbon, foregoing the formality of pouring it into the glass first. 

The bottle is halfway to his lips again when he hears a small, high-pitched whine – Stella’s – but something seems … off. Cordell has known his baby girl for eighteen years. He knows what she sounds like when she’s happy, when she’s tired, when she’s sad, when she’s hurt. There’s another small whimper and Cordell strains to hear better. He needs to be sure. The third time he hears it he’s certain. That’s not a happy sound coming from his daughter’s bedroom, it’s one of discomfort, one of pain. Cordell bursts through the door in a fury, already rolling up his sleeves in preparation for tearing this Trevor kid in two for hurting his baby girl. 

“Aah, Dad!” Stella screams, pulling her pyjama top back down to cover her exposed breasts and yanking Trevor’s hand out of her shorts. Cordell stops dead, unprepared for the shock that it is seeing Stella splayed out on her bed, chest bare and trembling, and her boyfriend’s fingers between her legs. In his burning rage he also feels a flare of desire distracting enough to delay him wringing Trevor’s neck. 

Trevor is very carefully trying to shift away from Stella in the bed, like Cordell is less likely to beat him up if he increases the distance between himself and his daughter, and the movement draws Cordell’s attention back to the boy – the very naked boy – in his daughter’s bed.  

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Cordell hisses, finding the presence of mind to shut the door behind him so August doesn’t walk by and see what’s happening inside. “You think you can come into my house, force yourself on my daughter? Boy, I learned how to castrate bulls when I was ten. What do you think I’m about to do with you, huh?” Trevor is frozen in terror, boner now completely limp, his cock retreating like a turtle into its shell. 

“Dad, no!” Stella exclaims, pulling a blanket over Trevor to cover his modesty. 

“Stella, don’t worry baby, I’m not gonna let this piece of scum touch you ever again,” Cordell promises, storming towards the pair on the bed. 

“No, Daddy,” she tries again, standing up to put herself between Cordell and Trevor. “Stop. He wasn’t forcing me! I wanted it.” Cordell stops short, looking down at Stella, who has her hands pressing against his chest in an effort to calm him. “I –” Stella swallows nervously, looking him in the eye. “I’m sorry, Daddy, but I wanted this. That’s why I asked him to come stay this weekend, we wanted to, y’know…” she can’t get the words out. “Don’t hurt him, he wasn’t forcing me.” 

“But,” Cordell’s mind is still reeling from the fact that Stella is standing here in front of him telling him she planned to lose her virginity this weekend, “Stels, I heard you. You sounded like he was hurting you.”

“I would never hurt her,” Trevor shoots up in the bed, angrily, but cows under Cordell’s glare, “um, sir,” he finishes lamely. 

“Stella,” Cordell sits her down on the end of her bed and drops to one knee in front of her. He brushes her long red hair off her face, cupping her cheek gently, and focusing on her soft blue eyes, shimmering with nerves. “I need you to be one hundred percent honest with me. Was he hurting you?” 

Stella shakes her head immediately but takes a moment to find her words, Cordell can tell she’s holding something back. “No,” she finally starts, “not, um, not on purpose.” 

“What?” Trevor and Cordell speak simultaneously and equally confused. 

“It.. he, um, he didn’t hurt me Dad,” Stella is stronger in her conviction now, “it just,” she grimaces, stalling. Cordell finally understands. 

“He wasn’t very good, was he?” Cordell grimaces in sympathy, and a little amusement at Trevor’s expense. Stella shakes her head ever so slightly, and Cordell laughs. Trevor is sitting in an embarrassed silence behind them, clutching the blanket in his lap. Cordell stands, brushing a hand down the back of Stella’s head as he rounds on the boy. “You ever touched a girl before, Trevor?”

“Yes,” he answers indignantly. 

“You ever made a girl cum before?” Cordell is a little taken aback by his own bluntness, but he supposes the seven or eight shots of liquor he’s had over the past hour must be fogging his brain a little. 

“Yes,” Trevor answers again, but his doubt is evident. 

“You don’t sound too sure about that, son,” Cordell pokes, standing over him now, arms crossing over his chest. Trevor tries to stutter out an answer but he doesn’t manage any actual words. “From where I was standing, it sounds like you could use a few lessons,” Cordell smirks knowingly. 

“Dad, leave him alone,” Stella objects, climbing back up the bed to Trevor’s side. 

“What?” he feigns innocence, smiling. “I’m just looking out for my baby girl. Can’t have you getting hurt, even by accident.” 

“Dad,” she whines again, burying her head in Trevor’s shoulder. 

“Plus,” Cordell kneels again, putting himself back on their level, “what kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t make sure you were being taken good care of?” Both teens are clearly not sure what they’re supposed to say to that. Cordell takes advantage of their silence and sits on the edge of the bed, and Trevor recoils slightly into Stella’s arms, which are wrapped around his waist. “So,” Cordell brings his hand up to Trevor’s face and brushes a curl behind his ear, keeping eye contact with the boy as he speaks, “he a good kisser, Stels? Or is he useless at that too?”

“Yeah – no – he’s… he’s a good kisser, Daddy,” Stella blushes, her answers given in an almost trance-like state. 

“Well, let’s find out,” and he leans forward to kiss the younger boy, hand still in his curly brown hair. 

Their lips meet hesitantly, like Cordell is waiting for Trevor to pull away, and Trevor is waiting for Cordell to tell him this whole thing is a joke, but now they are kissing softly – like you would at the end of a first date, when you still need to find out what they like. Stella’s cheeks burn as she watches her father kiss her boyfriend gently, surprised by the surge of arousal she feels pulsing through her at the sight. She knows what Trevor’s lips feel like against hers, soft and wet and insistent, and she wonders if they feel the same to her daddy. They break apart with sharp gasps, and Cordell’s eyes flick to hers, glinting in the low light. 

“Well, at least I know he’s been showing you a good time so far, baby girl,” he smirks at her, and Stella nods gingerly. “C’mere, sweetie,” Cordell motions her forwards, and she goes willingly, not knowing what he was planning to do but wanting desperately to find out. “Kiss her,” he breathes at Trevor, and the boy listens, leaning forwards and drawing Stella into him. 

Trevor’s kiss overwhelms her, and Stella melts against his bare chest. His kiss is familiar and warm, but the hand against her back is new. It’s larger, rougher, and it curls into her skin more possessively than Trevor’s fingers ever had. Stella moans into Trevor’s lips, letting his tongue wrap around hers, and her daddy’s fingers twist into the hair on the back of her head. 

“There you go, sweetheart,” he whispers against her ear, and Stella whimpers, this time very clearly from pleasure and not discomfort. The hand against her back pushes down, and Stella follows, straddling Trevor and laying down over him, tangling their hands together on the pillow by his head. As they continue to kiss and grind, she feels Trevor’s erection through the thin cotton of her shorts. Pleased that she can feel his reaction to her, she rubs over him eagerly – and her daddy must have noticed, because his hand drags down her back and lands on her hip, encouraging her grinding. 

Trevor moans and ruts up between her legs, and the pressure there against her core feels amazing. “Shit,” Trevor groans into her lips. 

“She gettin’ wet yet?” Stella whines in embarrassment and arousal at her daddy’s words. 

“Yeah,” Trevor pants from beneath her, “can feel it, even through her shorts.” Stella hides her face in the crook of his shoulder, but can’t stop herself rubbing against the hard member between her thighs. 

“Fuck,” Cordell is smirking, Stella can hear it in his voice. “You must be soaking, baby girl.”

“Mmhmm,” Stella’s voice is muffled in the pillow, but  she doesn’t want to pick up her head and reveal just how much her daddy’s words are turning her on. 

“Bet you taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby,” Cordell’s fingers ghost over her bottom, drawing dangerously close to the wet patch that is clearly visible on her little shorts. “You wanna taste her, son? Get your first good lick of pussy?” Trevor’s groan answers him. “Roll over, Stels, on your back, honey.” Stella lets her father’s hands push her off of Trevor and onto the bed.

“Get those clothes off her,” Cordell commands Trevor, and he eagerly complies, reaching out to pull Stella’s shorts down her slim, pale legs, stretched out beneath him, cradled in the sheets. She pulls her own top over her head, small perky breasts slipping free, and Cordell can’t take his eyes off them. Fuck, his baby girl has grown up so fuckin’ pretty. “Spread your legs for us, baby.” He puts his hand on one of her thighs and encourages them to part, revealing her glistening core. “Now, hands and knees, boy, c’mon,” he spins his finger in the air, indicating Trevor needs to turn himself around and get between Stella’s legs. 

The boy climbs to the space where Cordell wants him and settles on his hands and knees, staring at the spot between Stella’s thighs where he clearly wants to be, but keeping still, because he hasn’t been told to do anything else yet. Cordell hops off the bed and quickly unbuttons his shirt, discarding it on the floor, where it’s joined shortly by his belt and pants. He crawls back onto the bed behind Trevor, and smooths a large, calloused hand up his thigh and over his ass. 

“You strike me as more of a ‘hands on learner’, buddy. That true?” 

“Yes, Sir,” Trevor nods, hoping that’s the answer Cordell was looking for. 

“Good. Then I’m gonna show you everything you’ve gotta do to make my little girl cum for you. You want that?” 

“Yes,” the boy answers eagerly. 

“You’ve just gotta follow my lead, do everything I do, okay?” 

“Mm-hmm.” Another nod, and then a shocked gasp, as Cordell leans down and runs his tongue up the seam of Trevor’s ass, right over his hole. He does it again, the same simple motion, one lick bottom to top, and Trevor groans, shuddering beneath him. 

“I thought I told you to do everything I do?” Cordell huffs when he draws back and sees Trevor’s head hanging limply between his shoulders. “Don’t leave my baby waiting.” He doesn’t move back to his task until he sees Trevor dip his head and drag his tongue over Stella’s entrance, and up to the small bundle of nerves at its peak. Stella almost squeals, hands rushing to clutch in the boy’s curls and make him stay there between her legs. He licks against her again and she whines, high and desperate. 

“Daddy…” she whimpers, tossing her head back. 

“You’re doing so good, baby girl.” Cordell brushes the hair out of her eyes, which are currently squeezed closed in pleasure. “Look so pretty… all spread out for us – doesn’t she?” 

“Mmm,” Trevor hums against Stella, his tongue still drawing its lines up and down her core. Cordell grins behind him, happy he’s not taking his mind off the task at hand. Stella’s breathing is sharp and quick, still not familiar with the sensation of having a tongue playing with her pussy, and he’s about to teach Trevor some more tricks to make her squirm. 

Cordell draws his tongue flat along Trevor’s hole, laving at the expanse of skin beneath it as well. The chain reaction of moans from Trevor and then Stella tells him that Trevor has copied his movement over Stella’s entrance. He quickly changes tact and traces the tip of his tongue in small circles right over Trevor’s hole, making it flutter and twitch, then soothing it with longer licks. “You feel what I’m doing to you?” Cordell hums into Trevor’s skin, and the boy moans in affirmation. “Do that right over her clit, nice and light— there ya go,” Stella keens across her daddy’s instructions, making him smile. “Now go ahead and give it a nice hard suck, and keep your tongue moving, just like that, yeah,” Cordell strokes his hand over Trevor’s back as he continues to build Stella closer and closer to her orgasm. 

Stella’s hands are gripping the quilt beneath her like she’s about to fall off a cliff and that’s the only thing that’s keeping her grounded. Her daddy moves up to her side, grabbing her hand and winding their fingers together, so she can hang on to him instead. She turns and buries her face in Cordell’s side, while still pushing her hips harder into her boyfriend’s mouth, whimpering in pleasure. Cordell draws soothing circles over the back of her hand as she clutches him even tighter. 

“You need to cum, baby girl?” He keeps his voice soothing, and steady. Stella nods into his side. “Alright, sweetheart.” He brushes the hair back from her face, so he can watch her expression. “Okay son, want you to take your finger and push the tip inside her, just a little bit.” Trevor doesn’t make an audible response, but Cordell can tell when he does it because Stella’s breath hitches, pushing her chest into his leg. “Alright, now work it deeper, go real slow for me.” He sees Trevor’s arm start to push in and out of his little girl. “There’s a spot you want to find, if you move your finger along the top…” and after a moment Stella moans, deep and full. “Yeah, feels good doesn’t it, baby girl?” Stella whines and answers by bucking her hips down into Trevor’s finger. “Okay keep rubbing against it like that, and get your mouth back on her —” another moan from Stella “— now a little faster —”

“Oh my god,” Stella is close to sobbing with the pleasure, now. “Daddy, Daddy, please.” Cordell can’t help the smirk that splits his face when he hears Stella begging him, not Trevor, to make her cum. 

“Go ahead and cum Stels,” he squeezes her hand. “Be my good girl, cum for Daddy now, c’mon.” 

“Daddy!” She squeals as her body convulses, then stiffens, back arching off the bed in a graceful curve that pushes the pale flesh of her breasts right towards Cordell’s face, and he can’t help but lean down and kiss one nipple, gently. 

“Good girl, Stels,” he strokes his big hand down her belly, which is still twitching with the aftershocks of her orgasm. “Did so, so good for me, baby girl.” When Stella can finally peel her eyes open, and they find her daddy’s face above her, her smile is blinding, if a little dazed. 

“Fuck, that was hot, baby,” Trevor groans, reaching down to stroke himself. 

“Now, please, tell me you two have protection around here somewhere.” Cordell goes to the bedside drawer where Stella’s pointing, telling himself that it’s a good thing his baby girl was keeping condoms on hand. He finds the packet in the drawer, grabbing two, and luckily finds a small bottle of lube, too, which he brings back to the bed with him. He stalwartly does not think about the hint of bright pink he uncovered in his searching that was most definitely a dildo, lodged beside an open packet of birth control pills. 

“You ready to start the real work, son?” 

“Yes, Sir,” the boy groans, shuffling his knees closer to Stella, still between her legs. 

“Woah there partner, not so fast,” Cordell grabs his shoulder and pushes him back down to his hands and knees, ass in the air. “Gotta get you both ready first. You’re gonna follow my lead again, yeah?” Trevor hums an affirmative response. 

Cordell grabs the lube and gets some on his fingers, before tossing the bottle back to the covers. He brings one wet finger to the entrance winking up at him, and traces his fingertip up and down the seam, spreading the lube around before he pushes lightly against the opening, testing its give. It takes a moment for Trevor to relax, but Cordell gets the tip of his finger in eventually. “You gotta relax, boy, let me in. Focus on your girl there, you’re here to make her feel good, yeah?” He sees his curls bounce up and down as Trevor nods and brings his hand back to Stella’s pussy, drawing his finger through her slick before he pushes his middle finger in. 

Cordell continues to pump his first finger in and out of Trevor’s ass, feeling the boy loosening around him, until he’s ready for another finger. He pulls out and adds more lube, before bringing the digits back and pushing two slowly but firmly back in. “Start to stretch her out now, add another finger in.” Stella whimpers when Trevor draws out and re-enters her with two fingers this time. 

“Feel good darlin’?” Stella nods, locking eyes with her daddy. “I bet she’s nice and tight, ain’t she, son?”

“Yes, Sir,” Trevor pants, forehead resting against his left forearm. He seems to really be enjoying Cordell’s fingers in his ass. “She’s so fuckin’ tight. F-feels good.” 

“Try to fit another finger in there, stretch that pussy out real good f’me.” Cordell punctuates his statement by adding more lube and a third finger into Trevor’s opening, and the boy can’t contain his groan of pleasure at the thicker intrusion. 

“Fuck,” he moans, pushing a three fingers into Stella, who is dripping enough to make a spot on the sheets beneath her. She lets out an answering moan and bucks her hips up into Trevor’s hand. 

“Oh, looks like someone’s getting a little greedy, huh baby?” Cordell smirks down at his daughter, writhing on the bed, hair splayed out around her like a wreath of flames. She whines at him in response, pushing down into the fingers inside her again. “You think you’re ready for a cock, baby girl? Want your boyfriend to fill up that slutty little hole you got there?”

“Yes, Daddy, please,” she mewls, thrusting her hips again. 

“What about you, huh? Think you’re ready f’my cock?” Cordell chooses his moment well, and intentionally strokes over Trevor’s prostate when he asks the question, prompting an answering ‘fuck yes’ out of the boy. “Good answer.” 

Cordell opens one condom packet and rolls the thin barrier over Trevor’s dick for him, running the extra lube from his hand over the covered member once he’s down, then quickly rips into the second packet and rolls it on himself, before grabbing for more lube and drizzling it over himself and the tight little hole he’s about to fuck himself into. 

Trevor shifts up the bed so he’s pressed against Stella and he can run the tip of his cock through her slick folds. She pushes back against him lightly, but waits for her dad’s say so, still. Cordell ruts himself along the crack of Trevor’s ass, teasing. When the tip of his cock catches against the boy’s rim, he lets out a hiss. 

“Okay, you ready Stels?” She nods up at him. “Alright, if you need to stop you can just say, baby.” She nods again. Cordell gives Trevor a swat on the ass to indicate he should move. The muscles in his back clench as he pushes the head of his cock inside of the wet heat he’s surely been dying to get to all night. Stella’s face scrunches up as he drives himself steadily deeper inside of her, until he’s pushed in as far as he can go. Both teens let out choked moans at the feeling of finally being this wrapped up in one another. 

“Give ‘er a minute to get used to the feel of you, stay real still,” Cordell presses the head of his cock against Trevor and thrusts in shallowly, easing himself along with soft grunts, listening for any sounds of discomfort, but all he hears from the boy beneath him are small groans of pleasure. Once he’s inside, he smooths his hand up and down Trevor’s back giving him a moment to adjust as well. 

His first thrust in is shallow, but it drags the head of his cock right over Trevor’s prostate and the jolt of pleasure it sends up his body grinds him forward into Stella, drawing a moan from her. She bucks up into Trevor, forcing him deeper inside of her and simultaneously pushing him back onto her daddy’s cock. 

“That’s it, baby girl,” Cordell groans, thrusting harder into the tight heat wrapped around him, “show us how much you want it. Show us how greedy that little pussy is, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck!” Stella pants, arching into Trevor’s hips and grinding her clit against him. 

“Shit, you look so good like that darlin’. Looks so good with a cock inside her, doesn’t she?” 

“Fuck yeah. Feel so good, baby, fuck,” Trevor isn’t able to move much, being pinned between Cordell and Stella, both fucking themselves harder and harder into him, but he thrusts back against Stella with push of her daddy’s dick inside of him. Cordell’s impressed the kid’s lasted this long without busting his nut yet, considering the amount of stimulation he’s currently being subjected to, and Stella looks like she’s about to tip over the edge again along with him. He fucks into them even harder, pace quickening with each piston of his hips, and he hears Stella’s whimpers climb higher and higher as Trevor is pushed into her faster with each thrust. 

“You wanna cum again, sweetheart? Gonna cum all over that cock inside you like a good little slut? Yeah? You gonna be Daddy’s good little girl?” Cordell’s taunts push Trevor over his edge and he stutters in his pace, his ass clenching around the cock still fucking him as he cums inside Stella with a broken groan. Irritated, and on the cusp of his own orgasm, he pulls out of Trevor and throws him off of his daughter. Stella whines at the loss, and he can see her pussy clenching around the emptiness. “S’okay, baby girl, Daddy’s gotcha.” He pulls his condom off quickly and ruts his cock through Stella’s folds to ease his way when he pushes inside her. She’s so tight and warm and wet, Cordell knows he won’t last long himself, but he can wait until he’s taken care of his little girl, first. 

“Oh god, Daddy, please,” Stella moans, pressing her hips back into the cock inside her, clearly relieved to be filled up again. 

“Yeah, that’s it, honey, you fuck yourself real good on my cock. Want you to cum so hard, okay baby? Be Daddy’s perfect little slut, yeah?” Cordell lifts Stella’s ankles over his shoulders and begins a punishing pace, raking over the sweet spot inside her faster and faster on every thrust. Stella’s breath is coming in gasps so short he’s not sure she can even breathe. “C’mon baby girl, cum for your Daddy. Want you to cum for me before I fill you up. Gotta take care of you first darlin’, so c’mon, cum for me.” 

Stella turns her head into her pillow and screams her release, her whole body shaking as she cums, her walls clenching hard around the cock inside her, giving Cordell exactly what he needed to fall over the edge. He seizes up bent over Stella, her legs dropping to his sides and her arms curling around him, like he was an anchor keeping her from drifting away into nothing. A small kiss placed on her forehead, and a whisper of ‘good girl, baby’, and Cordell pulls himself out slowly, groaning at the sight of his cock laced with the white of their climaxes. He flops to the side of the bed and happily makes room for Stella when she curls into his side, drawing her fingers through the hair on his chest, seemingly lost in thought. 

“What’s on your mind, Butterbean?” Cordell asks, worriedly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.  

“Just thinkin’,” she smiles serenely. 

“About…?” 

“About how I’m never bringing a boyfriend home to meet you again.”

Tags: @vulgar-library​ @tintentrinkerin​ @negans-lucille-tblr​ @fandomfic-galore​ @petitgateau911​ @whoreforackles​ @schaefchenherde​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @little-diable​ @laxe-chester67​ @kassyscarlett​ @sonofslaanesh69​ @walkersbabygirl​ @austin-winchester67​ 

Housemates x Zoot Suit Riot Crossover: Lucky and Strike part 2

Last part of the crossover. I will be trying to do one from what happened to Blue and Orange on the otherside but please enjoy Lucky and Strikes shennanigans! Also there is a bit of a teaser for a couple of skeletons not yet introduced in Zoot Suit Riot. Merica and Spirit. Dusttale Mafia Sans and Papyrus. Cigarrette brand American Spirit.

Under the Cut!

This was going to be a lot harder than they thought.

One thing for sure as they look at eachother… Nook possibly knows the truth but is deciding to stay out of it. He’s a Papyrus after all… far more clever than they let on.

They go the direction Nook had pointed out earlier and sure enough Lucky opens a door that looks to be Oranges and Strike opens the door that screams Blue. Well at least they knew where “their” rooms were. Now came time to plan… but as it seems… Maybe these guys were pushovers in this timeline. Other than the horror brothers… Can they confess to outright murdering? And for fun at times?

This wasn’t the dog eat dog atmosphere they were used to… It seemed like they all got along under one roof here. Not to mention… there was another you.

One so willing to give physical affection that Lucky had been striving for since he had arrived in the other “Original” Sans world… only this one wasn’t ripe with gangsters and rife with Mafia undertones.

Strike was in his own little world as well. Apparently debating their options as well as he hummed. They could play along for a bit and see how it goes. So what if Red “knew” they could pass it off as a dare gone bad.

Both smirked at one another as they came to the same conclusion.

Great minds think alike.

They were going to test this world out and see how open this world’s Y/N would be to being with them. Not that they didn’t like the other you… they were pretty fond of you as well but there hasn’t been a chance to really get to know you and you had your guard up a lot.

This you was different. Far more open it seemed… It made them feel bad that in the times they had been with the other you… the other you had never smiled that big… as if something was constantly on your mind and it was a heavy burden.

The more they thought about the other you… they found they actually missed you.

“You think she misses us?” Lucky looks down and Strike is floored with his older brother's question.

“Dunno we were quite the handful.” Strike chuckles but even doubt was in his soul as well. Lucky had never questioned the consequences before. They always happened whether they were good or bad. They were an inevitable outcome.

Strike could only stare in awe as he sees his brother briefly look so vulnerable.

“What if… what if she does and we can’t get back?”

Both didn’t want to answer Lucky’s question… they already knew they’d be stuck… The machinery here was far more advanced than Strike had ever worked with… seeing as he had to use scrap from the dump to make his. Yet he recognizes how modern tech works… just not the inner workings just yet.

“Then I guess our soulmate here will do… yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

The silence was awkward… even for them.

They both went to what was their rooms to search a few things and get situated. Probably wouldn’t take this world's Sans long after Red found him. Strike was hard up on information but Lucky at least found a journal that Blue kept that would provide a lot of useful tidbits. They then both reconvened into Blue’s room for a quick briefing as sure enough…

*knock knock*

“Hey, M’lord says dinner is ready. We’re just waitin’ on everyone ta get home.” Clueing in on the voice and the m’lord… That must be Russ.

“He also asks why ya didn’t come down ta help him but he then said ya were traumatized by Orange’s laundry.” They heard him snicker as the door pops open a little and there is a skeleton that looks like Mild. Yet wearing almost similar attire to the one they knew as Red. They watch as he stretches his lanky body with a yawn. Gold fang glittering in the light.

“Heh, one things fer sure Orange is at least ya don’t have ta put up wit wearin’ a security uniform… thems the pits.” Then his lazy gaze sharpens when he notices Lucky and Orange look at him in shocked almost fear… or anger… Russ wasn’t sure but it wasn’t something he was used to seeing from either skeleton unless it was something they thought was wrong.

“Ya two ok?” He asks and both skeletons seem to loosen themselves a bit and even though they had the laid back and cheerful disposition… they were still a bit tense.

“ARMED SECURITY?” Lucky asks with a grin.

“What the? No Blue. They don’t let me walk around the school campus wit a gun. I’m not a police officer.” Russ looks helpless as to why now Blue would even ask that.

“Yeah he’s not feelin’ all there after finding a sweet stash I had in my pockets that I… may have forgotten about… for longer than I care to mention.” Strike snickers and pats Lucky’s skull. It eases the more taller skeleton but the feeling that something was off was still there.

“Right… well I’m goin’ down ta get a good spot next to Darlin’.” With a wave he exits, shutting the door behind him.

Lucky instantly is growling.

“Damn rivals… no matter where we fucking go.” Lucky flings the journal back onto the desk and then back flops on the bed. Strike shakes his head.

“Guess we gotta go to dinner.” Strike heads his way to the door.

“Think it wise?” Lucky glares at him then wistfully gets up as his brother lifts a brow.

“I think it would be unwise not to.” Strike counters and they both put on their best game faces and make their way out.

As they turn to go down the other flight of stairs that was nearby… there was another skeleton they hadn’t seen… well in this world… before.

Kentucky as they knew him… his brother was Twist… well in this world this must be Axe. Nook's older brother.

He was just standing there leaning his back up against the hallway wall… his gaze not leaving them as they exited.

“HI AXE! HOW ARE YOU?” Luck does his bright and bubbly routine and Strike lazily waves with a grin.

Axe’s hollow smile dims slightly then stretches widely. His eye light narrowed in his skull. He chuckles and then kicks himself off the wall and ambles down the stairs. Once they were sure he was out of earshot.

“I don’t understand… I’ve read the journal and I’m definitely nailing the peppy persona… yet it’s like he knew instantly.” Lucky whispers over to Strike.

“Maybe Nook talked to him about us.” They both eyed each other then raised their guard before slapping on their persona attitudes.

As soon as they entered the kitchen…

“THERE YOU ARE! I HAD TO HELP IN THE KITCHEN BECAUSE YOU ARE TO BUSY SLACKING! JUST WHAT I WANTED TO DO AFTER A LONG DAY OF WORK.” Was a tall and fearsome skeleton, yet definitely not their Swisher… this must be Edge. Swisher was tall, dark, and more importantly silent.

They looked at the table and everyone was there… including Red that was sitting by the one they took as the original Sans at the head of the table. His brother Papyrus was sitting on the other side reading a book.

“OH COME ON EDGE! IT WAS REVOLTING… I NEEDED SOME SPACE.” Lucky puts on his best puppy dog eyes and Edge scoffs.

“EXCUSES!!!” Edge fires back and brings a loaded serving dish to the table along with Berry.

“So… ya gonna do Red’s laundry I take it?” Strike smirks as Edge blanches and almost gags. It took everything for Lucky not to laugh, having been in said person's room, but instead give Strike a cross look. Strike pulls off a shrug as Lucky pretends to give that scolding gaze.

“FAIR ENOUGH.” Edge groans and motions for them to take a seat. You were already seated with Russ beside you and there was a vacant seat beside you. Lucky was eyeing it until Red growled and moved to sit next to you. Leaving everyone a little puzzled but Red was Red.

So Strike took the seat next Sans and Lucky took a seat next to Papyrus. Sans nods at Strike and Papyrus instantly latches onto Lucky’s attention. Showing off what was surely a courtship guide.

The meal was going great save for Red not really eating and his gaze constantly going back and forth between Lucky and Strike.

After dinner and dessert… which Lucky merrily ate seconds…

Sans clears his throat to gain everyone's attention.

“Now that everyone is settled and fed… elephant in the room… Who are you two and where’s Blue and Orange?” Sans scowls… Lucky and Strike freeze and just look at him in disbelief.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” Lucky plays up his innocent act and anyone who didn’t know him personally could instantly be fooled with it.

“Yeah… not buying it.” Axe snickers.

“What were ya two fucks doin’ in my room?” Red growls.

“Language!” Berry fires at him but then… he turns to look at Lucky strangely as if waiting for Lucky to say something. When Lucky looked around they were all looking at him like he had grown two heads for being silent. Strike was trying to hide the fact he was starting to sweat… normally he’s good under pressure but usually because he’s got the upper hand… not so here.

Even you were looking at him oddly.

Sans set on a table a black with a little blue bowler hat on the table.

“MY BOWL…. I MEAN A BOWLER HAT!!! THATS NEAT.” Strike groans… Lucky loves that hat and has gone through death, gore, and destruction if it ever falls off. As everyone eyes him curiously.

“SERIOUSLY! I LIKE A TYPE OF HAT AND I'M A BAD GUY!? A SKELETON LIKE ME CAN ADMIRE THINGS… BESIDES I THINK IT SUITS ME.” He pouts.

“I’m gonna ask ya again. What tha fuck were ya doin’ in my room.” Red growls and glares at Berry as he looks to yell at him again for his language. Berry actually backs off with how serious Red is taking this.

“Blue said they had found one of your shirts in the dryer and he was returning it. Right Blue?” You ask even though you seemed very wary of this situation.

“Oh yeah? Where'd ya put it because I didn’t find shit.” He smacks his hands down on the table and raises himself to look at Lucky.

“LIKE I’D WANT TO ACTUALLY TOUCH ANYTHING IN YOUR ROOM. IT’S YOUR FAULT YOU CAN’T FIND IT.” Lucky glares back.

“SPEAKING OF COULDN’T FIND… YOU WEREN’T ABLE TO FIND YOUR OWN ROOMS AND THEN BLAMED IT ON A ROGUE SOCK.” Nook pipes up and Axe snickers.

“Also didn’t think ya guys liked my jokes.” Axe leers.

Lucky and Strike seem taken aback by how much these skeletons communicated.

“As fer not touching my stuff… Where is it?” Red scowls eyeing both Lucky and Strike. Strike seems to realize something very important, Lucky had pocketed something, he shoots his brother a ‘you didn’t!” look but Lucky was busy playing the part of the innocent.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN.” Lucky looks absolutely puzzled… Strike could only wonder what it was… The only thing Lucky had picked up was the magazine but tossed it when he thought he was caught.

Then Red does something that shocks everyone.

He pulls out said magazine and slaps on the table in front of Lucky. The cover sporting a fully nude woman giving a come hither look. There were gasps all around the table and you were blushing like mad.

“JESUS H FUCKING CHRIST!!!! THERE IS A LADY PRESENT YOU FUCKING DAFT CUNT!!!!” Lucky screams as he grabs the magazine and throws it away from your view. As he turns back everyone is slack jawed looking at him save for Red. Strike face palms as this world’s Sans turns to look at him.

“Give me back my centerfold ya damn creepy imposter!!! I know one of ya has it!” He turns his glare at Strike but he’s shaking his head.

“For fucks sake Lucky! You took the man's centerfold!?” Strike glares at his brother. Red puffs out his chest in pride knowing they had been caught.

“DAMMIT STRIKE!!! I TOLD YOU THAT I FELT JIPPED BECAUSE WE HAD NOTHING THAT SHOWED EVEN A SLIVER OF SKIN. THIS SHOWS EVERYTHING!!!!” Lucky reaches in the battle body and flips out the centerfold, that landed open for all to see. Lucky pauses and then turns to you sheepishly.

“I am so sorry… a lady like yourself shouldn’t have heard or seen any of that. My lady, I apologize.” Lucky is actually blushing and apologizing. That was a new one for Strike.

“MY WORD SANS… IT DOES SHOW EVERYTHING.” Papyrus blushes and Sans looks ballistic.

Berry is catatonic from the foul language as well as the lewd imagery. Russ seems bewildered at what to do. Looking around at his brother, the centerfold, then at you.

Edge is glaring at his proud brother.

“THIS IS WHY I TRY NOT TO GO IN YOUR ROOM. THIS IS NOTHING TO BE PROUD OF.” Edge growls at Red who then looks sheepish himself.

Nook and Axe are still eating their dessert merrily. Pretty much enjoying the show.

“Get. it. Off. the. Table. N o w.” Sans bellows his sockets become voids and Red grabs it and instantly stuffs it inside his jacket.

Once it is off the table Berry seems to reboot leaving Russ to sigh in relief.

“Strike and Lucky is it?” Sans growls.

They look over at him nervously.

“WHERE IS BLUE AND ORANGE?” Papyrus glares and they instantly freeze. Papyrus is the very serious boss attitude where they came from and he didn’t pull punches either.

“W-Well you see Papyrus all of a sudden we got thrown here in these clothes!” Strike immediately says, as Lucky glares.

“Stool pigeon.” Lucky gripes.

“Lucky!!! This is not the time! Look, we didn’t know what to think! We come from a very harsh environment alright? We are from the world of gangsters, hit men, Mafia. Hell our nicknames are after a cigarette brand called Lucky Strike. Same with all of you sitting here… save for the original Sans and Papyrus.” Strike holds his hand up. He knows when things get real and when to bow out. Lucky never knows when to quit.

“We just want to go back home but we didn’t want to say anything because we didn’t know who we were dealing with.” Strike sighs and then glares at Lucky who sighs as well.

“Your guys must’ve been pulled through to our side… SHIT… STRIKE IF THEY WERE PULLED TO THAT TIMELINE THEY’D BE EATEN ALIVE!!!” Lucky comes to the realization that leaving more kinder souls with the rough mafia types would be trouble.

Sans stands up.

“Let’s go.” Sans rallies the other skeletons and as you get up he halts you.

“Kiddo, that machine is dangerous. We know what it can do with skeletons. Just not humans.” He warns and you sigh, having to stay behind.

“It was nice to meet another you, honeybun.” Strike pats your head.

“Though it was a little too brief… we miss our Y/N.” Lucky says shyly and you hug both of them.

“I know Blue and Orange… and if you’re their counterparts… You can’t be all bad.” You say with a smile making them blush as you let them go.

The pull making them want to stay longer until Berry places the bowler hat on Lucky’s head.

“I WANT BLUE BACK. I MISS MY PARTNER IN KEEPING THINGS SANE AROUND HERE.” Berry huffs.

All the skeletons quickly made their way to the basement and to the machine. Sans goes over the records and quickly types in buttons as the other skeletons ask the pair questions.

Answering what they could about their homelife, the type of guns they prefered with their magic… The whirring of the machine caught everyone’s attention.

Bright light enveloped them and Blue and Orange came stumbling out in suits. As soon as they see everyone they run for hugs… even Orange.

“I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD SEE ANY OF YOU AGAIN!!!” Blue wails and Orange whispers thank yous.

Then they turned and looked at their doubles. 

“YOU TWO ARE TROUBLE.” Blue glares.

“AND YOU TWO ARE TOO NICE.” Lucky glares back with a smirk.

“They knew instantly we were not you two and they almost tried to kill us when we asked honey questions.”

“Yeah… about that… she still doesn’t know about the machine… still thinks we’re cousins and all that bs.” Strike snickers.

“Yet it seems this Sans has told the truth which is commendable.” Lucky nods.

“ACTUALLY THAT WAS OUR BAD.” Nook pipes up.

“Yep.” Axe concurs.

“Right… seems to be Kentucky and Twist's goal as well, if they can get to her that is. Oh and they are mafia versions of you two.” Lucky points at Nook and Axe.

Then they look worried…

“Has there been an Merica or a Spirit here?” Strike asks nervously.

They all look at him questioningly.

“A FUCKED UP PSYCHO OF A SANS AND A GHOSTLY FLOATING PAPYRUS HEAD!?” Lucky informs.

They all looked puzzled but shook their heads no.

“Thank yer lucky stars. Keep the machine off.” Strike warns.

Soon they swap their attires with each other. Lucky revelling being back in his suit while Strike seems to miss what he was wearing.

The machine is ready as Sans motions them to get ready to head back.

Lucky then approaches Blue and places a hand on his shoulder. Leaning his skull in with a wry smile.

“Take good care of our soulmate here and we will take good care of ours back… home.” Lucky says with a shy smile still clasping Blue’s shoulder.

With a pat on Blue’s shoulder Lucky then walks to join his brother as the light of the machine begins to get brighter, about to send them both back where they belonged.

“Soulmate?” Blue questions making both Lucky and Strike falter.

As the whirring got louder Lucky let out a string of curses before.

“ALL OF YOU HAVE BEEN LIVING WITH YOUR SOULMATE THIS ENTIRE FUCKING TIME AND YOU NEVER KNEW!!!? WHAT THE FUCKING HELL…” His rant is cut off as the machine sucks them back to their world.

All the skeletons look at one another and begin blushing.

Except Axe.

He laughs and they all look at him.

“What? Explains a lot don’t it?” He smirks then leaves the others to ponder on it. Then blush even more as they had noticed that they did indeed seem to gravitate towards you.

Wish Granted Pt. 2

[Yahya Abdul Mateen II x Black OC]

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N:  I decided to make this a series and instead of reader, it is an original character. Strap in!

( Read Part 1 here)

That morning, Yahya and Corrine bask in the glow of the new morning sun, sharing a table by the front window enjoying eggs benedict, toast, with a stack of pancakes to share.  Corrine dipped some of her bacon into the leftover egg and sauce along her plate, chasing it with the remaining orange juice in her glass.  She goes to grab for more from the pitcher when Yahya’s hand surrounds hers.

“I have a flight tonight at 6,”  he says.

Corrine nods slowly.  “Ok.”

He looks sorry as he continues, “It got changed last minute.”

“Sure...can I ...pour my juice now?” Corrine asks, making Yahya awkwardly rest his hands on the table to allow you access to the pitcher.

“And with traffic, I should probably start getting ready to go now.”

Corrine sips her drink, wiping her mouth gingerly with the cloth napkin and sets it down.  “I gave you back that ring, right?”

Yahya nods.  “And your scarf is in your room at the hotel.”

“It’s not mine but...thanks.”  Corrine says quietly.  She pushes her fork around in the remnants of her plate, squeaking every so often against the porcelain.

Yahya leans forward.  “I still want to stay in contact.  Just because I live out of town doesn’t mean we can’t not see each other, you know?”

Corrine smiles with wide eyes like he just said something offensive.  “If that’s what you think, that is fine.  But honestly how would that work?  I couldn’t keep a guy to get a proposal and I spent at least half of my 20s hanging with him.  Don’t you think this is a bit much?”

Yahya sits back, looking out the window for distraction.

“I mean I am fine with a one night stand.  Thank you for being what I needed at the time, it was definitely a night I will never forget but let’s not make this weird.”

Yahya sighs, looking around for presumably the waitress and pulls out his wallet.  “I can’t believe you’re flipping like this.”

“It’s not a flip, just...this happens.  Like, come on Yahya, we don’t know each other.  Can you seriously say you want to try and make this a long term thing base don our track records?”

Yahya puts some bills on the table.  “I thought you hadn’t done this before?”

Corrine shrugs.  “Ok, truthfully, not since college had I done this before.  Before...him,” she says with a cringe.

Yahya folds his arms across his chest looking at her with amazement.  “So you really used me?  I am your rebound and now you’re backing out?  Or is it because I am not conveniently at your beck and call now that you’re scared to try something new?”

Corrine scoffs.  “I don’t need to explain it, I made it clear.  Long distance will not work.  That’s it!”

“I disagree.  And I want you to see that I am right and you’re wrong.”

“Yahya…”

“Corrine….”  Yahya says, biting his lip playfully.

Corrine rolls her eyes, pulling out her purse to rifle through it.  Not able to find a piece of paper, she takes an unused napkin and scribbles on the front with her dying pen.

“Look, I will give you my number.  Do with it what you want, I’m not holding you to it though,”

She hands it to a confused look Yahya.  “I could just give you my phone to put it in?”

“I’m old school.  Plus, watch you accidentally use it and mess up the ink or ball it up thinking it’s trash.  I wanna know you can be responsible with an important document such as that napkin with my number on it.”

Yahya looks at it, puts it down and grabs a five off of the stack of bills he had set on the table.

“Let me borrow that pen,”  he asks, scribbling his number across the front of Lincoln’s face.

“Whoa!  What are you doing?”  Corrine asks, leaning to get a glimpse for herself before Yahya gives her the defaced bill.

“And here is my number.  If your theory checks out, it shouldn’t be hard to keep up with or lose, unless you accidentally spend it on some shoes or a new purse, right?”

Corrine glares at him.  “Ha Ha.  Here, let me at least put some money back on this since you probably just took the girl’s tip money for this.”

Yahya waves her off.  “Please, it’s still 20% without it, we good.”

Corrine folds the five up in a side pocket in her bag.  “Then that’s it right?”

Yahya stares through the table, nodding blankly.  When he looks at Corrine he fights a smirk.

“I really had a good time.”

“I did too.”

Yahya and Corrine step out of the restaurant, parting with one last hug as his car arrives to pick him.  Corrine holds him close, smelling the fresh soap from the morning shower he took just a couple hours ago.  His shoulders and back solid under her hands, she imagines if she lifts her feet, he wouldn’t bend or fold even slightly.

His hands spread along her back before sliding slowly around her waist, kissing a spot behind her ear that makes her curl back and chuckle.

“I’ll call you,”  Yahya says inches from Corrine’s face as she nods.  “You gonna call me?”

“When you call me, I will,”  she says, putting her hand to the side of his face, trying to memorize every feature and feeling it gave her.  One last kiss would make her fly in the cab with him, so she backs off, waving goodbye.

A month goes by and Corrine has finally packed up all of James’s things in two boxes.  She sits on the couch staring at them sat next to her front door.  His life with her fit in just two boxes?  They weren’t officially living together yet but he spent so much time with her that it seemed like there would be more things.  Most of it is laundry that needs washing and DVDs he brought over because he refused to buy them on digital again.

Corrine scrolls through her phone absentmindedly as she waits.  A message pops up that makes her jump out of the blue.

Hey, how’s your morning beautiful?

It’s fine for now.  Still waiting on him.

Don’t let him bother you.  Just tell him to the left and leave!

Of course girl.  Why mess with a beyonce blueprint?

Works every time!  Also, don’t forget to meet us for our lunch date after.

Sounds good.

Corrine gets up to check out of her patio door and sees his car park outside.  James strolls across the grass, which instinctively makes her cringe.  She always told him to watch doing that so he doesn’t end up walking in dog shit.  

She waits for his knock patiently, not wanting him to know she saw him already.  Her phone chimes again.

Outside, it reads.

Corrine groans at the rude tone of his one word text.  As she opens the door he’s leaning on the frame in a way that reminds you of one of Danny Zuko’s boys from Grease.  Leather jacket on even though it's 85 degrees out, distressed blue jeans that fit snug around his lean legs with some schmegular all white Adidas.  

“I already packed your stuff,”  she says, walking backwards to point to the left as practiced.  James takes one step in with his hands in his pockets and looks to his right at the boxes.

“I could’ve done that,”  he says in a bored tone, looking back at her as if she is visiting him without notice,

“I asked you every week for the past month to come get it.  You think I’m going to wait for you to poke around here and find every little thing of yours on your own?  I don’t think so.”

His fingers find their way around a curl of hair in his high top fade.  “What’s all this energy about though?  I thought we could be cool about it?”

“Why would I be cool about anything with you  after you left me by myself in the city when we were supposed to be celebrating your promotion, right?  But you recall what happened instead?  After 5 and a half years together?”

“I wanted to talk to you in person-”

“You hadn’t done that either for a month, have you?”

James’ jaw flies open.  “Because the only thing you got to say is about picking up my stuff!  You never asked to talk and you didn’t answer my calls!”

“I shouldn’t have to ask to talk!  I’m not the one that said I can’t do this no more!”

“Are you sure Corrine?  Cuz you never acted interested in shit with what I got to do.  You don’t listen to nothing I got to say.”

Corrine scoffs loudly as James kneels to look through the boxes. 

“I never helped YOU?  I got you into a respectable corporate job that paid BILLS for the first time in you life when your cooking career wasn’t pulling weight like you hoped it would!  Now you can earn some capital so you can open your business steadily and not fall flat on your ass!  I gave you so much more mercy than you ever did for me!”

James sucks his teeth and comes to a standing, towering over Corrine.  “I stood by you while you worked to do this lawyer shit you got goin on.  Long nights studying in the living room, out to the library, hell week after hell week to pass your bar.  I barely got a kiss from you at your celebration party.  You always doin the most!”

Corrine grips her temples, completely taken back.  “I can’t believe you’re saying my ambition is a reason to leave me.  I can’t succeed while you’re down and out or you feel less of a man?  Is that it?”

James picks up his boxes in both arms.  “Shut up.”  He walks out the door heading for the steps.

“No, now I got it!  You want me to just stay quiet and patient while you figure things out but I couldn’t carry our relationship for you!  I needed your support too, whether I am studying for hours on end or you’re taking a month long business trip, only to come back unemployed!”

James was out the door about halfway down when he looks back at her.

“You think I wouldn’t know?  I got you that gig, how would I not check into it?  They said you never showed up.  Why?”

James looked off, sighing deeply like a load was taken off even though he was carrying two very heavy boxes.

“You had to get away for a month?  What were you doing for that long that you didn’t tell me?”

James continued to not look at Corrine.  His mind battling with what to say and what not to say was killing her as she looked for him to speak. 

“I won’t take you back James, I just want a good excuse so I can hate you less.  I thought you were going to marry me when you booked that room for us at that fancy spot.  But you broke my heart so bad.”

James continued to walk down the steps without a word.  Corrine watched him pack his car and turn on the engine to peel out.  

--

“Girl, and that’s what he did?”  Simone exclaimed over her half eaten salad.  Her pressed hair pulled back in a bun already gave her a naturally alert look, but Corrine’s turmoil made it that much more apparent.

Corrine pushed around a meatball in her spaghetti.  “That is all he did.  I have no closure to it.”

Bria pats you back gingerly.  “You’ll be fine and he’ll be fine.  It’s just because the break up is still fresh that y’all couldn’t come to an understanding.”

Corrine sits back and shrugs.  “Maybe?  But that’s a big ass lie he dropped on me.  He was gone for a month.  He could have a whole family in another state for all I know.”

Simone points at Corrine, big brown eyes bucking.  “That’s why I told you he look like Cousin Skeeter if he were a real man.  He is just as goofy too.  Nobody should leave for a MONTH without saying anything.”

Bria nods, adjusting her tortoise shell frames.  “He is not worth a thought but you take all the time you need to get past it.  Just move on.  You gave him chance after chance up until the last moment.  It’s time you got to breathe on your own.”

“And speaking of,”  Simone lowers her voice.  “You hear from our hotel daddy yet?”

“Oh God, don’t bring that up now,”  Corrine whines.

“Simone!”  Bria hisses.  “She hasn’t heard from him yet, and honestly by now, there would be some explaining to do instead of dating.”

Corrine lays her head on the table.  “Why is life so hard?  I can’t have a good time with nobody!”

Simone and Bria offer pats as her tears are absorbed by the tablecloth.

“Hey, you know what?  You do still have his number…”

“Simone, no.  I can’t.”

“But!  Instead of cutesy whats up and stuff, you can tell him off maybe?  Give him the lashing every wrong you’ve received deserves.  It might not be constructive but a quick shot of feel good sounds pretty good, right?”

Corrine sits up, dabbing her eyes and feeling the avalanche of snot coming to her nose.  Her cries put all ugly cries to shame.

“I just...it was...he said...he’d call!”  Corrine squeaks out between sobs.

One month turned into two, and so on until Corrine forgot about that night at the hotel.  Busying herself with work was the best thing she could do in order to keep herself feeling good from day to day.  That and happy hours with her girls who vigorously scoped men out for her as her wingwomen.  

Sometimes when she is turning in for the evening, she picks up the base of her little desk mirror to find the $5 bill under it that Yahya scrawled his number on.  The more she looked at it, she wasn’t sure if it ended in a four or a nine, so it’s probably best she kept from calling in order to not look foolish on someone’s phone.

James and her never got back with each other either.  But Corrine is more ok with that.  She figures whatever skeletons he has are bigger than she can manage and she deserves a break.  But Yahya seemed so good and promising, she couldn’t believe she got bamboozled that hard.  He could’ve left that morning, allowing her to sleep away the future but he gave her hope instead and that got snatched away.

So Corrine filled her days digging into practicing law and running errands and not much in between.  But she was ok.  Without the extra baggage of men in her life she felt as if she might’ve unlocked a new level in life.

---

“As you all know, the construction on the new building is being negotiated with several architects in order to get a broad scope of what design would fit the future of our practice the best for years to come.  Let me remind you all that if it weren’t for your dedication to your work around here that we would not be one of the most sought after and winningest law office in the state.”

Applause fills the conference room for Hogel of Garrett, Hogel & Truman as Corrine takes notes on the meetings main points.  Most of the meetings are supplied with a bullet list of the main topics, but she does not enjoy just sitting and staring or she is liable to daydream.

When the meeting comes to a close, it is close enough to the evening and the weekend that she hopes will allow her to get off early and head straight for bed.  Her feet kill her in the stiff three inch pumps she wears for ten hours straight, and her local Chinese spot was calling her name for some springfield chicken.

When she makes it back to her desk, her heart flips with joy as she sees no new files to review and archive, and since she got ahead of her projects for the week, it seems the weekend has finally begun.

She kicks off her heels to slide into her worn in athletic shoes, feeling her feet melt into the dips that the insole has created to mold to her feet.  Her heart beats in the bottoms of her foot from being released from their patent leather binding which is both uncomfortable and satisfying.  But even if they were chopped off at the shin, these feet would lead her to her car and get her to her home paradise.  

Corrine walks down the hall to the elevators, hearing noises from people as she gets close.  She feels a little anxious, preferring an empty elevator at her departure time but is willing to deal so that the exit is quicker.

As the group of voices rounds a corner leading away from her, she sees a man standing head above the whites that surround him.  A navy blue suit fitting tailored to wide set shoulder funneling down to a slim but sturdy waist, made her knees buckle a moment, causing her to slow her pace forward.  He walks away, laughing one of those polite laughs one gives to company they want to impress.  He hits the elevator button, listening to one of the partners speak until his gaze travels over them and spots her.

She feels her brain black out and her heart fall out of her ass and flight took over in her fight or flight response.  

“Corinne!”  he calls after her, but she pays him no attention rounding the corner.  Stairs would have to work, no matter how much her feet her from the day, anything would do over having to see him make up whatever excuse he had to not call her.  And what the hell is he doing at her job?  Is he a lawyer?  Is he looking for counsel?  What if he is a fraud that manipulates women and sues them for some old timey bullshit laws like alienation of affection.

She thanked God that coincidence didn’t find him in the parking garage as Corrine finally made it home but settled on some leftovers she had in the fridge instead of her beloved Chinese food.  At this point she still hadn’t calmed down from earlier.  What if he is at the Chinese place?  Where the hell does he live anyway?  To be in the same area as her work, he couldn’t be far.  She couldn’t remember where he said he was from, if they even covered that much information but she was not going to entertain his presence, he is a ghost to her.  

In her bedroom she takes the five and slips it in her purse to make sure she spends the bill, like it's the reason he is back.  She will have to treat him like a ghost.  He won’t know she ever waited for him or thought about him after that night. 

when night falls i am your escape

a sequel / prequel to sanctuary! ( as requested by @athenakyle )

The dull sound of rhythmic knocking against a wall has Jisook stopping in her tracks, a tray of dirty dishes in her grasp.

“I’d keep walking if I were you,” Sanghoon says, fixing his glasses, a leather portfolio tucked in the crook of his arm. “Miss _____ has Master Jeongguk over again.”

Jisook sighs.

“I just did the laundry,” she mutters, walking off.

Sanghoon lets out a terse chuckle in reply, checking his watch.

“Ah, the Chairman and his wife also informed me earlier that they won’t be home for dinner tonight,” he calls out to Jisook. “They’ll be dining with the rest of the board of directors. Miss _____ will be dining out with Master Jeongguk also, so do let the rest of the staff know that only a light supper will be needed when they return, Jisook-sshi.”

“Thank you, Sanghoon.”

Sanghoon bows his head as Jisook disappears into the kitchen, the sound of her shuffling slipper-clad feet growing distant.

The rhythmic knocking eventually stops, and Sanghoon arches a brow at the sudden quiet, looking up from his diary, page half-turned. A few beats later, the door to your room opens, and you emerge in the middle of tying the silk belt of your robe around your waist, hair in a messy bun atop your head.

“Afternoon, Sanghoon,” you greet, lazy smile stretching across your lips. “How you doin’ today?”

“Good afternoon, Miss _____,” he replies, bowing his head. “I’m well. Thank you for asking.”

“Want anything from the kitchen while I’m there?”

“No thank you.”

“Okie dokie. Enjoy the rest of your day, okay?”

“I will do my best, thank you.”

                                                         〰️

Jeongguk yelps when something cold hits the small of his back, clicking his tongue as he pushes himself up off his stomach to sit against the headboard, taking the beer you’re holding out to him.

“It honestly surprises me that I’m allowed inside here every time I come over,” he says, taking a sip.

“Why?” you laugh, reaching into your bowl for a strawberry.

“Uh, ‘cause you’re one of the richest people in the country, and me and the hyungs literally have diets consisting of ramen and discounted kimbap. We are not the same, dude.”

“No one’s complained yet.”

“I don’t think your staff would complain. Maybe talk about you behind your back though.”

“Jeongguk, you’ve seen Jisook. She nags me more than my actual grandma. She would not hesitate to call me out.”

“True. She has such a cold stare sometimes. I can come over here horny out of my mind, but then I see her and I feel like my balls shrivel up and die in an instant.”

“Gross.”

“Well. I could be rich soon though. I hit five hundred thousand followers on Soundcloud within twenty four hours of those photos coming out from that dinner. And then seven hundred and fifty thousand followers on Instagram not long after. Kinda scary how quickly people can find my shit. You didn’t even promote me straight away.”

“Your nudes will be next,” you joke.

“Pfft. Please. You say that like it’s a bad thing. My nudes are spectacular.”

“You know who I bet would love to see your nudes? What’s-her-face. Hara? No, Hana.”

“Oh, Jesus. Don’t,” Jeongguk groans. “I thought her seeing you with me would force her to give up, but now I feel like she’s gotten worse. She keeps blowing up my phone.”

“You gave her your number?”

“Nah, nah. She’s been messaging me on Instagram. I bet it’s because of your ‘statement’.”

“What about my statement?”

“You said I was a ‘close friend’.”

“Well, what am I supposed to say? ‘Jeongguk’s my fuckbuddy. He’s got my favourite flavour of dick!’”

“Aww,” Jeongguk coos, hand pressed to his chest. “I’m touched.”

“Yeah, well, you can touch yourself on your own for the rest of eternity if you keep that up.”

                                                         〰️

“Hi, excuse me, um… c-can I get your autograph?”

You look up from your menu to see someone standing a few feet away from Jeongguk, holding a notebook close to her chest as she waits nervously for an answer.

“Yeah, for sure,” Jeongguk says, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows at you briefly before taking the notebook from the girl, scribbling his signature on a blank page before bowing and watching her walk off. “Look at that. I’m famous.”

“Congratulations,” you say, nonchalant as you turn your eyes back to the menu.

“Damn, you really live like this? I could get used to it.”

“You say that now. Wait ‘til you’re getting followed into the bathroom when you go to take a dump.”

“How much do you think I could sell my shit for now that I’m famous?”

“I dunno. Ask Hana. I bet she’d be the only one crazy enough to buy it,” you say, looking up from your menu again to grin.

“Shut up.”

“Are you ready to order, Miss _____?” a waiter asks, stepping up to the table with a small notepad.

“Mmm, I think I’ll have truffle linguine,” you say, setting the menu down on the table.

“Of course. And for you, sir?”

“Uh… I’ll have the tenderloin steak with the cream potatoes, thank you. Medium rare,” Jeongguk replies, smiling.

“Excellent. We’ll have it over right away.”

“Thank you.”

“Damn. The perks of being rich.” Jeongguk leans back in his seat, hands on the back of his head. “I really could get used to this.”

“Don’t get too cocky, Jeon,” you say, taking a sip of your wine. “It’s not a good look on you.”

“You know what is a good look on me?” You look over your wine glass. “You.”

“God.”

                                                         〰️

“How were your meals tonight?” the waiter asks, collecting you and Jeongguk’s empty plates.

“Amazing. Send my compliments to the chef,” Jeongguk says, smiling. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

“Would you like some dessert? Coffee?”

“Oh man, I’m stuffed.”

“Just the bill, thank you, Minwoo,” you say, reaching for your drink.

“Of course,” the waiter says, bowing his head before walking off with the empty dishes.

Jeongguk reaches into his back pocket for his wallet as you finish off your wine, counting out his money before slipping it into the small leather folder the waiter sets down on the table.

“What’re you doing?” you ask, amused; Jeongguk looks at you, confused.

“Paying?”

“Why?”

The crease between his eyebrows grows deeper as he furrows his eyebrows, saying, “because I asked you to come to this restaurant with me? Wait, hold on, I’m confused. Am I missing something? Should I not be paying?”

“No, it’s just… most people would be making me pay, that’s all,” you say, shrugging your shoulders.

“Please,” Jeongguk scoffs, proceeding to put his money in and shut the leather folder. “In case you haven’t noticed, I am not like most people, sweet cheeks. Also, making you pay makes it seem like you’re my sugar mommy or some shit, and that feels weird as fuck.”

“Oh, eww. You’re right.”

“Come on, let’s go. I need a smoke.”

                                                         〰️

You can feel the floor of the club pulsing beneath the soles of your heels, walking over to your usual table with Hyemi and Sora on either side of you, paying no mind to all the heads that turn your way. The rest of your friends cheer and wave when they see you approach, making space for you three in the booths.

The drinks easily come and go, and eventually a bunch of you end up on the dancefloor, nodding your heads and swaying your bodies to the sound of the music, laughing and fooling around as you always do.

One by one, you friends drift off, returning to the tables or leaving with a handsome stranger, until only you and Hyemi remain on the dancefloor – but even she looks like she’s one song away from disappearing from your side.

As you anticipate, just as one Jay Park song ends and another starts, Hyemi has her fingers entwined with an unfamiliar face, and she turns to look at you with an apologetic smile before wandering off. You let her go with a casual shrug and a smile, unbothered because you’re used to this routine now, knowing the fun is only yet to start now that you’re no longer surrounded by your friends.

It’s now that others will gain the courage to approach you, no longer resorting to fleeting glances your way—as if they weren’t being completely obvious in doing so—but using their alcohol-fuelled bravado to make their way closer to you on the dancefloor, until eventually, someone will sidle right up to you, hand on your waist, department store jeans pressed to the back of your tailored Prada dress.

“Hey.”

Like clockwork, you feel a hand come to rest on the small of your back, and the air around you briefly smells like whiskey, cigarettes, and clean laundry.

“Jeongguk,” the stranger says, guiding your hips to sway in time to his.

“_____,” you reply, smiling to yourself.

“Knew that.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Surely everyone here does,” Jeongguk says, chuckling.

“You’d be surprised.”

“No way. They’d be insane to think you’re just another pretty face. Are you having a good time so far, _____?”

“Sure am, Jeongguk. How ‘bout you?”

“Me? Oh, I’m fuckin’ petrified.”

“What?” you ask, laughing as you turn around, Jeongguk’s hands wrapping around your waist as you rest your hands on his chest.

(You’re excited to find that his chest is beautifully firm—almost rock solid—beneath your palms.)

“Oh, definitely.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, I’m not sure if you’ve got bodyguards watching you from afar. If I move my hands an inch lower, I could be tackled to the ground and banished from the country for laying a hand on probably the richest twenty-something year old in Korea.”

You throw your head back and laugh, the sound barely drowned out by the loud music.

“I don’t leave the house with bodyguards all the time,” you reply, grinning.

“Ah. A wild child, huh? I’ve heard that too actually.”

“Is that right?”

“Yup,” Jeongguk says, emphasising the last syllable with a pop.

“I’m surprised the tabloids are reporting the truth.”

“Oh, so it’s true? Oh, I like that.” Jeongguk grins when you laugh again. “So. What do you usually do on nights out, Miss _____?”

“Well, that depends on what you usually do on a night out, Mr. Jeongguk,” you reply.

“Hmm. Well, I’ll usually down a few drinks, dance next to a pretty girl, get slapped in the face before she tells me she has a boyfriend, and be on my merry way, crashing on my third secondhand mattress to the sound of my roommates fucking their boyfriends.”

“Sounds like a great time.”

“Eh. Could be better,” Jeongguk replies, shrugging. “Maybe havin’ the balls to dance with one of the richest people in the country will change my fate.”

You hum, barely audible.

“Or maybe this is the part where I slap you and find another hot guy to go home with.”

“Well if that’s the case, at least I can say I tried. I think I’ve done a lot better than that table on my left who’ve been staring at you from the moment you stepped foot on the dancefloor.” You turn to look off to the side, snorting when a cluster of guys startle and turn away from you before any of them can meet your eye.

“Story of my life,” you say, turning back to look at Jeongguk.

“It’s not too late to rewrite it, sweet cheeks,” Jeongguk says, winking. Smooth! “Unless, of course, you were planning on leaving with someone else.”

“Considering you’re the first person to come up to me, I think the gold medal is going to you tonight.”

Dramatically, Jeongguk swipes a finger under his eye.

“I’d like to thank my mother, my lucky lighter, and Jack Daniels.”

He takes your hand and leads you off the dancefloor, no complaints when you detour to your table and grab your things and wave goodbye to your friends who watch on with wide eyes as you leave with your arm hooked around Jeongguk’s.

His friends do the same, it seems, if the way he juts his chin out with a smug look on his face is anything to go by, ignoring the frantic waving to try and get his attention as he walks you to the door. He does, however, humour them with another wink just before he follows you out with a hand on your lower back, paying no mind to the ping of his phone when you’ve both exited the club.

“So. My place or yours?” he asks, waving down a taxi.

“Yours, s'il vous plait,” you reply, running your fingers through your hair. “My place is swarming with people and paperwork right now – probably the whole reason why I came out tonight actually.”

“That sounds so fun.” Jeongguk chuckles, opening the door to the taxi and holding it for you. “After you, sweet cheeks.”

“Wow. A gentleman.”

With a shrug, he waves you in, before climbing into the taxi after you, quoting the address of his apartment to the driver and leaning back, shoulder pressed against yours.

“So. What’s it like being filthy rich?”

“Eh,” you reply, shrugging. “It’s got its pros and cons.”

“Cons?” Jeongguk repeats, eyebrow raised. “That’s hard to believe.”

“That’s what everyone says – until they get a taste of the life, that is.”

“Hmm. Can’t relate. I get excited when I get a new follower on Soundcloud and Instagram, or when I can afford three cups of ramen instead of my usual two. I bet you barely notice followers flooding in – or even eat cup ramen.”

“Well, I can’t say cup ramen is a staple in my diet, but even I can’t resist that stuff. Just means I’ll have to do an extra session of hot yoga to get rid of all that excess sodium.”

“Hot yoga, huh?”

You look at Jeongguk, who stares off into space with wide eyes, totally distracted by what you’d just said. You laugh loudly, shaking your head.

“God, you’re such a… guy.”

“You said ‘hot’ and ‘yoga’ in the same sentence, and I am but a mere mortal,” Jeongguk replies, hand on his chest.

The taxi slows to a stop in front of an apartment complex, and you watch, intrigued, as Jeongguk hands his money to the driver, before stepping out and rounding the car to open the door for you.

He leads you up to his apartment, but without warning, he pauses, hand on the keypad of the front door.

“Shit,” he mutters.

“A problem?” you ask, amused.

“Yeah, I just remembered neither me nor my roommates cleaned up before we left.”

You shrug, saying, “doesn’t sound like a problem to me.”

“Oh, it’s a problem. How dare I invite a goddess into a trash can of an apartment?”

“Are you like this with everyone you sleep with?”

“Well… the guys and gals I sleep with don’t usually have a net worth of a trillion Won…”

You laugh again, shaking your head.

“You can open the door, Jeongguk.”

“Alright, alright. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Jeongguk punches in the passcode and pushes open the door, turning on the lights and kicking aside stray shoes in the doorway to make a clear path to walk through.

“Honestly,” he says. “I’d say shut your eyes and let me carry you to the bedroom, but I can’t even guarantee my room is any better.”

“This isn’t bad,” you say, scoffing as you look around at the expanse of the apartment, unbothered by the old takeout boxes, empty soda and beer cans, crumpled loose papers, and the remnants of rolled joints and cigarettes in ashtrays around the living room. “You made it seem like a junk yard.”

“I don’t know if you’re just saying that, but I’m not gonna push it,” Jeongguk says, rubbing the back of his neck and chuckling, before motioning to the door of his room. “If you so desire, your Highness, your throne awaits just over there.”

“Weird. Your lap is right here,” you say, nonchalant as you kick your heels off and put your bag down on the sofa, before walking over to Jeongguk’s room.

“Oh,” Jeongguk groans, fist pressed to his lips as he watches the way your hips sway, nodding to himself before eventually chasing after you.

                                                         〰️

Taehyung whimpers softly as Yoongi bites gently at his neck, punching in the passcode without pulling away.

“Hyung,” Taehyung moans, toeing off his shoes, hands fisted around the lapels of Yoongi’s shirt. “Hyung, wait. What’s that noise?”

“Huh?” Dazed, Yoongi lifts his head, eyes squinted in concentration as Taehyung takes the opportunity to nibble at the shell of the elder’s ear, fingers curling around his belt loops. “Is that… I think that’s Jeongguk.”

“Jeonggukie’s home already?”

“Oh fuck, Jeongguk! Yes! Yeah, right there. God!”

Frozen, Yoongi and Taehyung stare off into space as the apartment fills with the sound of moans and groans, jolting in surprise when Jeongguk’s bedroom door swings open.

Panting, Jeongguk frantically crosses the apartment completely naked, stopping dead in his tracks when he notices Yoongi and Taehyung standing in the doorway, staring at him. He jerks his head in a nod, chest still heaving as he grins.

“Hyung, I’m grabbing some condoms from your room,” he calls out.

They watch silently as Jeongguk disappears into Yoongi’s room – and Hoseok’s room, for good measure – before returning to his own room and kicking his door shut, and it isn’t very long before the sounds return.

“You wanna just… watch a movie?” Yoongi mutters, sighing.

“With the volume turned up very loud please, hyung,” Taehyung replies, nodding solemnly.

“I guess I’ll text Hoseok to warn him in case he plans on doing anything with Joon then.”

                                                         〰️

“Christ, you guys wanna turn that down?” Jeongguk says loudly, wincing as he stands shirtless and in a pair of sweatpants against his bedroom doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, lit cigarette held in the corner of his mouth.

Yoongi and Taehyung look at him, eyes narrowed, even as Yoongi’s thumb mashes the volume button on the remote.

“What the fuck were you doing in there?” Yoongi asks, frowning as he holds his lit cigarette to Taehyung’s lips. “I know you’re loud, but Jesus Christ, Guk.”

Jeongguk shrugs, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“Did you kill her?” Taehyung asks, exhaling. “Have you just fucked someone to death? I’m telling you right now, we will not be your accessories to murder, Jeon Jeongguk. I’m telling the police everything.”

“I’m sure I can settle any lawsuits that might come from tonight.”

Yoongi inhales sharply, dropping his cigarette into the ashtray on the coffee table as he coughs violently when you step out of Jeongguk’s room, tying your hair up. With wide eyes, Taehyung stares at you, mouth opening and shutting repeatedly as he struggles to find words.

“Y-you’re… you… you’re…” he stammers.

“That’s Yoongi hyung, my roommate; and his boyfriend, Taehyung hyung,” Jeongguk says, motioning towards them. “I’m sure I don’t need to introduce you to _____.”

“What the fuck, Jeongguk?” Yoongi says in between coughs. “What the fuck?”

“Your boy’s got game, hyung.”

“Mmm, and a great dick,” you add, picking up your bag.

“Is your driver here? I’ll walk you down.”

“It was nice meeting you two.”

Yoongi and Taehyung stay frozen on the sofa, completely dumbfounded, even when you and Jeongguk leave and meet your driver at the front of the apartment complex.

“Oh,” you say, reaching into your bag and pulling out a pen, grabbing Jeongguk’s hand to scribble your number on his palm.

“Oh, this is officially the best day of my fuckin’ life,” he says, grinning. “Same time next week, sweet cheeks?”

“Wouldn’t say no to that,” you reply, winking and opening the car door. “Let me know if any of your neighbours wanna file any complaints.”

                                                         〰️

[ sms: YOONGI ] _____.

[ sms: _____ ] mr. min. how can I help you?

[ sms: YOONGI ] my phone feels like it’s going to eXPLODE WTF [ sms: YOONGI ] did Jeongguk tell you to do this?

[ sms: _____ ] pfft no [ sms: _____ ] if anything, I did this to piss him off ;

[ sms: YOONGI ] jesus _____ [ sms: YOONGI ] there are so many notifs on here what do I do??? [ sms: YOONGI ] my phone is not strong enough to handle all this [ sms: YOONGI ] I’M not strong enough to handle all this oh god

[ sms: _____ ] you want a new one?

[ sms: YOONGI ] huh?

[ sms: _____ ] a new phone lol

[ sms: YOONGI ] HUH???

[ sms: _____ ] i’ll send you a new one [ sms: _____ ] and hoseokie too :)

[ sms: YOONGI ] hold on [ sms: YOONGI ] HOLD ON [ sms: YOONGI ] YOU’RE SENDING ME AND A SEOK A NEW PHONE??? [ sms: YOONGI ] HELLO?? [ sms: YOONGI ] _____?!

 [ DISPATCH ] Samsung heir, _____, promotes underground Soundcloud rapper, Agust D’s second mixtape, ‘D-2’.

 [ sms: JEONGGUK ] you gave the hyungs new phones??? [ sms: JEONGGUK ] WHAT ABOUT ME

[ sms: _____ ] i’m not your sugar mommy, sweet cheeks ;) [ sms: _____ ] maybe hana will buy you a new one!

[ sms: JEONGGUK ] SHUT UP [ sms: JEONGGUK ] YOU’RE UNBELIEVABLE

1975.

Crowley crosses Abbey Road. 

It’s a quiet residential street, totally normal, other than the fact that one of the world’s most famous recording studios is plonked right in the middle of it. And, aside from all the tourists trying to re-enact the Beatles album cover. 

Crowley invents the photo bomb a few decades early as he wanders across the road behind a nice German family taking picture on the zebra crossing.

He’s here to see Freddie. Crowley hasn’t seen Freddie in a while, and he’s a little apprehensive. Only because a call from Freddie on a Monday morning means he’s got something to say, and doesn’t just want to go for a few drinks or traipse around Vauxhall or Soho in their glad rags. The message on his answering machine (which is brand new, and still a little confusing) makes it sound like it’s good news, at least. Either way, the moment Crowley’s phone chimes with Freddie’s voice saying Listen, lovey, come on over to the studio tomorrow morning, I want to show you something, there’s very little that’ll keep him from going. 

It’s a little chilly today. Crowley zips up his leather jacket and puts out his cigarette on the pavement, stamping it out under black boots. He saunters over to the studio and hops up the stairs two at a time. Nudging the door open with his shoulder, a wave of warmth and cheap vanilla air freshener hits him. Crowley wanders straight past the reception desk towards the room that he knows Freddie usually takes. 

The receptionist doesn’t look up from her computer when she announces the usual, “Hello sir, how can I-” and it’s interrupted when she eventually casts her eyes over the rim of her glasses. “Oh- Mr. Crowley, sir- go right on through.”

He’d been planning to, anyway. He flicks his hand in a dismissive wave of thanks and idly makes his way down the corridor. 

It’s filled with the sound of the band members chatting. The first thing that Crowley notices is Brian’s cloud of hair; it’s the first thing most people notice when Queen enter a room. They’re all bickering about something, or maybe they’re just talking enthusiastically; the success of Bohemian Rhapsody has made them all excited and ambitious and perhaps created a little bit of strain between them all. Crowley slows his pace and watches them pop out the back door, realising that Freddie isn’t with them. 

A stream of piano notes flows down the corridor. Crowley follows the sound and pushes open the door to the studio. 

Freddie is half hidden behind the raised lid of a grand piano, a cigarette in his mouth and a small frown as he watches his hands run up and down the keyboard. “Hello, Crowley.” “Alright, Freddie.” “Ciggie?” “I’m fine.”

His hands remain in his leather jacket pocket where they’re still warming up, and he makes a circuit about the large studio- the wooden floors and abandoned instruments, chairs where choir members might have sat for some other band. Overhead lights unflattering and bright. Crowley winces up at them through sunglasses and listens to the jaunty chords that Freddie plays on the piano. Humming something tuneful as he goes. 

“Said you wanted to show me something,” Crowley starts. 

“That’s right,” Freddie confirms, “I’ve got you a present.” “A present?” he grimaces, turning around and staring at the back of Freddie’s head. He wanders slowly over to the piano, where he can see some sheet music. Hand written, with lyrics on a scrap of paper that’s been paper-clipped to the side. “I don’t like presents.” “Let’s not call it a present then.” He doesn’t elaborate. Freddie’s always had a gently playful sense of humour, and on this occasion, it makes Crowley grumble. Without glancing away from the keyboard, he asks Crowley, “Still dressing up like Robert Smith, then?” “What’s wrong with that? I like The Cure.” “I liked your moustache. It was a shame you shaved it off. I’m thinking of growing one like it myself.” “I’d been informed that it didn’t suit me.” “Ah,” Freddie replies vaguely, again. 

Crowley leans against the piano, watches the hammers and strings inside the belly of the piano jump about. And the tune that Freddie’s humming gains lyrics. He sings quietly, as if only to himself. “I can serenade and gently play…”

“So,” Crowley presses, looking at his watch. He has some sins to sow at midday. And he needs to be in Hackney after this. “How was Japan?” “The tour? Oh, yeah. It was great. Lots of people chasing after us in the streets.” “That doesn’t sound great. Sounds awful.” “We had to be bundled up in laundry baskets in our hotel and wheeled along so people wouldn’t spot us and chase us to our rooms. That's because I'm a good old-fashioned lover boy… Ooh let me feel your heartbeat...”

Crowley releases a loud, pointed sigh, and looks about the room. Drums his fingers against the side of the piano. Freddie continues to sing to himself, albeit a little louder, his dulcet tones filling the auditorium. “You going to?” he shrugs. “Tell me? Why I’m here?”

“A present, or don’t you remember?” “Yes, alright, but what is it?”

And then he finally looks up at Crowley, a little mischievously. He removes one hand from the piano to put out his cigarette in the ashtray at the far end of the keyboard. His right hand continues to trill its sweet tune. “Haven’t you been listening?” For a moment, Crowley doesn’t catch his drift. Freddie looks down at the keyboard and keeps playing. Then:

“Dining at the Ritz, we'll meet at nine precisely

I will pay the bill, you taste the wine

Driving back in style, in my saloon will do quite nicely

Just take me back to yours that will be fine 

Ooh love,

Ooh loverboy

What're you doin' tonight, hey boy

Everything's all right

Just hold on tight

That's because I'm a good old-fashioned fashioned lover boy.”

The song comes to its satisfying, light-hearted end, and Crowley listens. Frowning, despite himself. He doesn’t know who the song could possibly be about, and why it should be of any importance to him. It’s always been clear that Freddie isn’t attracted to Crowley, and vice versa, so it can’t be about him. Suffice to say, he wouldn’t be giving Crowley that look if it were about one of his own boyfriends. Least of all, Crowley and Freddie have never been to The Ritz together, so he really can’t figure out what-

When it eventually clicks, Crowley scowls at him. “Oh fuck right off.”

“I was inspired,” Freddie says innocently. 

“Inspired my arse, you’re sticking your nose in my business and trying to profit off of it!” Crowley gestures angrily at the keyboard and paces. He paces angrily. Paces like a politician might, having found out that someone’s splurged his deepest, darkest secrets to The Mirror or The Sun. Suddenly too warm, he shucks his leather jacket and announces, “You’re a twat, Freddie Mercury.” “So, you don’t like it. I’ll have you know I wrote it, and that makes it one of the good ones.”

“Inspired,” Crowley mimics disdainfully. Turning on the spot with an irritated flourish, boots knocking against the wooden floor. “What makes you think I’d enjoy having a song written about me?” “I know you’re self-conscious-”

“I’m not self-conscious-”

“Stop it with that shit, yes you are. And I know that our conversations about your man-”

“Don’t call him that-”

“Were in confidence. And trust me, I haven’t said a word.” Crowley points an accusatory finger at Freddie, who looks entirely unperturbed. “You better not have fucking done, Mercury.” “But,” his friend continues, “A little part of me thought it might be nice for you to hear about it out loud. In the open. Something cathartic about it.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, definitely, really nice fluffy feeling. To have your unrequited love sung about and flung in your face. Cheers for that.”

“Don’t be daft,” is the all the response he gets, before Freddie starts playing again. 

He starts from the beginning. Slow and romantic and yearning. And then it picks up and takes that jaunty tone again, something fun and mischievous- like a dare, or an inside joke. And Crowley listens- to all of it. The tune, the lyrics, the way that Freddie sings it. It’s happy. It’s loving and it doesn’t sound at all unrequited, the way Freddie sings it. In this song, both the characters are old fashioned lover boys. And something about that soothes the defensive little monster in him that’s gnashing its teeth and screaming at Freddie to shut up. 

“Nobody would know,” Freddie pipes up half way through, no longer singing, rattling off a piano solo. “It’d be totally anonymous. Well, actually, I reckon people would think it was about me. Nobody would guess it was about you.” “He would,” Crowley says. But as soon as he does, he doubts himself. Because when has Aziraphale ever been that observant? This is the angel who’d inadvertently wandered into the midst of the French Revolution for crepes. 

And brioche. 

Freddie continues to play and sing. And Crowley listens. He finally listens without any retort. He sits on the chair behind the drum kit and listens to Freddie play it over and over, until he can almost convince himself that he lives in a world where Aziraphale loves him back. 

***

2019

One of Crowley’s favourite things in life is hearing Aziraphale hum. 

Crowley has lived a fairly isolated, quiet life. It’s largely self-inflicted. Some of it is Hell inflicted- which one could argue is a problem only because he’d been enough of an arse to fall from Grace. Either way, it’s quite solitary and silent. But with Aziraphale, his life is filled with sound. Not with sickening celestial harmonies, but just the sound of Aziraphale existing. 

One of his favourite sounds is Aziraphale making a cup of tea. The sound of him pottering about in the kitchen and clinking the tea spoon against the mug. Humming Mozart to himself. Asking if Crowley wants two sugars or one today (which is Aziraphale’s indirect way of begging Crowley to stop taking so much sugar in his tea). On this particular occasion, Aziraphale isn’t singing Mozart, however. Nor is he singing Liszt. 

Crowley looks up from his phone. Sat on the sofa that he and Aziraphale had argued over for three hours in DFS because neither of them could pick one that they both liked (and neither of them had managed to miracle one that they could agree on, so they thought it best to see what the shops offered as inspiration). He puts down his phone in his lap, mutes the television (which Aziraphale had also argued with him over, but Crowley had put his foot down), and listens.

“Crowley, dear, two sugars or one?” He hesitates, tries to tell himself he wasn’t imagining it. “Uh- one, just the one today- angel?” “Yes, love.”

“Were you just singing Queen?” There’s a quiet, knowing chuckle, and the sound of Aziraphale shuffling in his slippers from the kitchen to the living room. He’s wearing corduroys, and his bowtie has been abandoned in favour for a cable knit jumper and shirt. A relaxed look that Crowley had rarely had the luck to see, until recently. Aside from all that, the angel is also wearing a pleased little smile as he hands Crowley his tea and sits beside him on the sofa. “Oh, yes. It seems I was.”

“That’s bebop, that is,” Crowley jokes dryly.

“I know. You must be so proud of me. It’s all that time in your Bentley, it’s a bad influence on me.”

“Just the right amount of bad, clearly.”

Aziraphale smiles. That smile he has when he knows just how adorable he’s being and is supremely proud of himself. He buries his feet under Aziraphale’s bum to warm them up, and Aziraphale tuts, shuffles to get more comfortable. 

Crowley steels himself. Clears his throat. “You do know what that song’s about, don’t you?” He prompts.

Aziraphale’s rings clink against the mug he’s holding. He looks up at the ceiling as he thinks. “Just a very nice love song, really, isn’t it? You knew Freddie well, you probably know better than me.”

Crowley blinks at him. This might take some time. “Ye- yeeeees,” he encourages slowly. “I did know him well. Well enough that he might even write a song for me.” That little o-shaped gasp. “Really, Crowley?”

“Yes. And. You. You have listened to the lyrics, yeah?’

“Absolutely. It’s my favourite song by Queen, you know. The lyrics are perfect. So lovely. And relatable- you know it’s a song that reminds me a lot of us.”

Crowley looks at him with a wide-eyed, pointed gaze. Aziraphale looks back, eyes darting about the room in confusion. 

“You’re staring at me,” Aziraphale accuses. 

“You’re being really thick,” Crowley replies.

“Excuse me?”

“I knew Freddie. Very well.” “Yes, I’ve understood that much.”

“He wrote a song for me.”

“Right. You had mentioned that.”

“It’s. Uncannily relatable. Talks about old-fashioned lover boys and The Ritz.”

“Yes, I follow so far.” Crowley sighs and rubs his face. “Aziraphale, when are you going to realise that Freddie Mercury wrote a song for me about you?”

He peers at Aziraphale between his fingers. Aziraphale’s eyes widen comically. And he makes the very business-like decision of putting down his tea to give Crowley his full, undivided attention, turning towards him.

“Crowley. Really?”

“Yes, really, you silly bastard, how did you not put two-and-two together?” “Because it’s me, what were you expecting,” Aziraphale complains, a little flustered. 

It makes Crowley take pity on him, putting his tea aside too and leaning forward so he’s kneeling beside Aziraphale. “Well. There you are. Now you know. Whole song, dedicated to you. And, um. A few more out there too. Without lyrics, so it’s less obvious.” Aziraphale’s expression softens and brightens all at once. Something totally indescribable and beautiful. Like the sun behind a fluffy cloud. It’s miraculous. “Oh, Crowley. No.” “Yes, ‘fraid so.” “Will you tell me-?”

“Nah. Make it more fun to see if you can figure out which songs they are.”

Aziraphale smacks him playfully on the arm. 

“I do have a small confession,” Aziraphale says a little coyly. Eyes looking up at him, then away again. Then back at Crowley. Teasing. 

“Go on,” he says through a smirk, anticipation building. So much so he finds himself leaning in for a kiss before Aziraphale can speak. 

“There may be one or two out there dedicated to you, too.” “Oh, really?” he murmurs against Aziraphale’s cheek. Hiding his face, because he’s not quite ready to show how happy that makes him. How much Aziraphale completes him. 

“A few,” Aziraphale replies. Then, “A fair few.”

Crowley places the gentlest kiss he can on his cheek. “Do I get any clues?” 

He feels him smile against his skin. “That would ruin the fun.”

***

happy birthday to my darling @duocreatix!!! Here’s some Freddie Mercury inspired ineffable husbands content for your consumption <3

Distracting

@storyknitter​ you are 100% correct, which means it’s Absolutely Besotted Nate Sewell hours GO

(8. laying a gentle kiss on the back of the other’s hand)

---

Very few things could distract Nate from reading. Newly settled at the top of that short list was a certain quiet, redheaded detective he was fairly certain remained unaware just how distracting her freckles and warm smile and enchantingly deep blue eyes actually were. 

Deep blue eyes that were currently closed as AJ napped on the couch, one arm flung over her head and her sock-clad feet braced against the side of Nate’s leg. She’d mentioned having a long day at work and apparently--once again--that was an understatement. She’d barely made it a handful of pages into her book before starting to drift off. While Nate wouldn’t have minded in the slightest serving as her pillow, the fact she’d curled over the other way as she succumbed to slumber gave him a much better view.

One that kept pulling his eyes away from the page every few words. The sight of Abigail so settled and comfortable, loose curls of hair drifting across her face as she slept, was adorable. And more than a little distracting. Every so often she would hum or mumble nonsense syllables and the clearly pleasant bent of her dreams made him smile.

Nate was on the verge of giving up his attempts to focus on his book when AJ’s brow furrowed. Slightly at first, but quickly deeper.

“No,” she mumbled, shifting with obvious unease, “g’way.” She swung her arm down in a half-hearted defensive arc before she hugged both arms close to her chest protectively. One leg curled in as well, the other kicking out to flop across Nate’s lap.

He dropped his book on the table, not bothering to mark his page, and rested one hand lightly on her shin. “AJ.”

She didn’t seem to hear him, muttering nonsense as she yanked that leg in as well. She kicked out with both feet, just grazing his hip as he moved to kneel next to the couch instead of sitting on it.

“AJ,” Nate, repeated, concern furrowing his brow as he swept the loose curls back from her face. She was pale enough to make her freckles stand out all the more sharply, and he brushed his thumb over her cheek at the sight.

She whimpered, jerking away from the contact, and his heart squeezed at the memory of her confession what happened with Murphy still lingered in her thoughts. Her dreams. “I don’t suppose, in our line of work, I’m likely to get away without some kind of nightmares.”She’d tried to sound brave about it, but he’d seen the look in her eyes.

“I wish I could say you would. I truly do.”  The sentiment was as true now as when he’d first said it. Nate moved his hand down to her arm, held gentle but firm when she started to buck away. “Abigail, it’s me.”

She stilled, but her face remained screwed up in fear. He shifted his hand ever so slightly and she recoiled with enough force to slam her elbow into the back of the couch. Something about the impact broke her nightmare’s hold on her; dark blue eyes snapping open, full of terrified panic as they met his gaze, and she bolted half-upright with a harsh gasp.

“You’re safe,” Nate promised softly, moving to sit next to her and brushing the curls back again when they fell in her eyes.

“Nate?” Her voice sounded so small. She caught his hand as he started to pull back, held it tight.

“I’m here,” he assured her, lacing his fingers between hers and pulling her hand closer so he could kiss the palm. “It was just a dream.” He hesitated. “Another one about Murphy?”

“Good guess,” AJ nodded, her attempt at a wry laugh coming out far more like a sob. “He...got away, with me, took me somewhere he” --she shuddered--”wouldn’t have t’ share, an’ I-I knew you were lookin’ for me, but you couldn’t... couldn’t...”

“Come here.” Nate gave her hand a gentle tug, but waited for her to start moving toward him to pull her into his lap, her back to his chest as he held her close.  “That was a dream,” he murmured, panic welling in his own throat at the mere thought of it becoming reality. “Murphy doesn’t have you. You escaped all on your own.” Because you’re just that amazing. He tightened his grip briefly, one arm around her waist and the other her shoulders. AJ rested her hands on his arm as he relaxed his grip and continued,” We did find you. You’re fine” --he wondered if she caught the hitch to his voice at the memory of when she wasn’t--”and everything’s alright.”

“Except Murphy got away,” AJ muttered.

Except that, Nate conceded silently. He hugged her closer, kissed her temple.  “He’s not going to get you.”

“You won’t let him,” she said softly, and tilted her head to kiss the back of his hand as it gripped her shoulder.

“Never,” he promised, and finally sensed her racing heart start to slow. “None of us will.”

AJ nodded and relaxed back against his chest. The silence stretched, her thumbs rubbing small arcs against his arm, but her breath stayed shaky, even as the adrenaline faded.

“AJ,” Nate began, letting his grip go slack so both arms now wrapped loosely around her waist. “Why don’t your socks match?” It was both a way to distract her and genuine curiosity.

She giggled, and though the sound still shook a little, it was definitely lighter.  “Oh. Yesterday was laundry day an’ I haven’t had a chance t’ put things away yet.” She curled her toes and examined the socks, the left one pale pink with white hearts and the right lavender with white flowers. “I match pairs as I put ‘em in the drawer. I left in a hurry this mornin’, so I just grabbed two without lookin’ if they matched.”

He smiled and rested his chin on her shoulder. “I see.”

“I’ve done it on purpose before,” she admitted, leaning her head against his. “But t’day was just bein’ in a rush.”

His smile widened--that did sound like her--and he took her hand in his, palm to back, lacing their fingers together and rubbing his thumb back and forth over hers. “You’ve been in a rush a lot lately.”

Abigail shrugged. “Paperwork at m’day job doesn’t go away just b’cause we” --she squeezed his hand--”aren’t dealin’ with a crisis. I’m just tryin’ t’ keep up.”

Nate laughed. “A fair point. Would coffee help with that?”

“I mean, I’m done for th’ day, but you know I never turn down coffee,” she said with a smile. It actually reached her eyes and internally Nate breathed a sigh of relief. Rather than hop to her feet, however, AJ twisted to be sideways in his lap, freeing her hand so she could rest both on his shoulders. Her fingers curled into his shirt collar as she met his gaze. “Nate?”

“Yes, Abigail?” he said softly.

“Thank you. For distractin’ me.” One hand slid up to rest along his jaw and Nate could barely breathe. “It helped a lot.”

“I’m glad,” he managed, voice little more than a hoarse whisper. I hate seeing you like that.

AJ smiled, wide and warm, but he only got to enjoy the sight for a heartbeat before she leaned in to kiss him, her hands briefly lingering against his jaw on their way further back to dig into his hair, and Nate couldn’t breathe(not that he needed to. But the sentiment held).

His grip on her waist tightened by instinct, one thumb just edging under her shirt to graze the skin. (He wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not, caught up in the moment as he was.) AJ hummed a short, happy sound and pressed briefly deeper into the kiss before breaking it.

“I don’t believe it,” she said drolly as she sat back enough to meet his eyes, breathless and with her arms still loosely around his neck.

“What?” Nate asked, arching a brow and trying not to dwell on the deep warmth in his chest at the mildly disoriented look in her eyes.

“No interruption.” She grinned. “No Felix or Mason or Mum with the worst timin’ known to man, no emergencies...”

Nate laughed softly. “It does appear the curse is broken.”

Abigail chuckled, then her expression softened as she studied his face. She raised one hand to trace her fingers from his brow to cheek to jaw, her thumb rubbing against his skin when she stopped, and murmured, “You make a very good distraction from whatever my nightmares throw at me, Agent Sewell.”

He smiled and reached over to tuck the wayward curls behind her ear. “Happy to help anytime you need me, Detective Jenings,” he returned just as quietly, before leaning in for another kiss.

This time their lips had barely met when his phone buzzed and Nate broke away with a growl. He’d never wanted to throw the thing across the room as badly as he did just then.

“Spoke too soon, it seems,” he groaned instead.

AJ giggled. “Maybe it’s like birthday wishes, yeah? Y’talk about it, it won’t come true.” She kissed him on the cheek and slid (reluctantly, if he was any judge) off his lap. “I’ll take an IOU on the coffee ‘case whatever that is is important.”

While he couldn’t really think of anything more important than her, she did have a point. But he wasn’t ready to let her go just yet.

Nate caught her hand before she could step out of reach, and AJ turned back to him with a smile that said she had a good guess where this was going. She was right, of course, and he couldn’t help matching her smile as he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her hand. She bit her lip, as she usually did, and went just a little red(also usual). But then she curled her hand tighter into his and tugged so he’d stand. She hugged him, head tucked under his chin, then stepped back.

“Remember you owe me coffee,” she said with a smile as she plunked down on the couch and reached for her boots.

“Little fear I’ll forget that,” Nate chuckled. He ran one hand through his hair and turned to leave-

Only for AJ to grab his other hand and bring it to her lips, brushing a quick, soft kiss against his knuckles and then dropping it in one smooth motion.

“I see why you like doin’ that,” she mumbled, face definitely the same color as her hair now.

Nate bit back the threatening laugh for fear she’d take it the wrong way.  “Abigail-”

His phone buzzed again.

She cleared her throat. “You should go see what they want.” A bashful smile.  “Before they come lookin’ And I should head home, anyway.”

The truth of the statement didn’t make him like it any more. “We can at least walk part of the way together, then.”

“That we can,” she agreed.

He wound up walking her all the way to her car without even realizing it. She was, after all,  very distracting.

Asses to asses, dust to dust (branjie) - writworm42

A/N: for @sohytes and @barbiehytes. I’m not even sorry for the title. Thank you thank you thank you Holtz for beta-ing, ily <3

They start having sex about two months into their relationship. To most of Vanessa’s friends, it’s shockingly late, and maybe it is–Brooke hasn’t ever waited that long, a fact she admits to Vanessa with a flushed face and downcast eyes when Vanessa tells her she wants to take things slow. But for Vanessa, the two months is crucial. It lets her know what her partner is like, lets her feel out their energy and compatibility before she gets fully invested.

Needless to say, the wait feels longer than ever with Brooke, and when Brooke finally eases Vanessa back on her bed and strips off every article of clothing at a painstakingly slow pace, she’s so relieved that she can hardly keep herself from squirming. Not that she has much of a choice–Brooke pins Vanessa to the mattress, nips her neck, sucks her nipples until she thinks she’ll come just from that sensation. She eats Vanessa out for what seems like far too short a time, licking her through to a second orgasm and practically grinning against Vanessa’s pussy when she slips two fingers inside it for a third. It’s enough to make Vanessa torn between cursing herself for her rule and thanking God for the buildup it’s caused. But the inner conflict resolves itself when she flips Brooke over onto her back, reducing the blonde’s quick mouth to a mess of incoherent babbling, begging, and whimpering with just a few quick circles of her clit and three fingers pumping in and out of her cunt.

Vanessa could listen to Brooke moan all day, and it’s when Brooke cries out Vanessa’s name during her climax that she decides she won’t need the two month rule anymore, because she never intends to let Brooke go.

When they’re finished, and have finally had enough of holding onto each other, their breaths heavy and bodies warm, Brooke peels herself away, declaring that she’s going to shower quickly, but that Vanessa is welcome to stay.

Of course Vanessa takes her up on the offer; after all, she’s too busy playing with herself while thinking about Brooke lathering herself up to get up and go, anyway. It’s only when Brooke comes out of the shower, though, that Vanessa realizes there’s something she’d been missing the entire time.

Brooke turns away from Vanessa to grab some underwear from her drawer, dropping her towel as she does, and Vanessa’s brain nearly drops out of her pussy.

Brooke’s ass is–well, to put it bluntly, it’s definitely the best ass Vanessa has ever seen, beyond words or description. Just looking at it, Vanessa’s mesmerized, her entire body buzzing as thoughts about holding it, spanking it, and putting her mouth on it take over her mind.

“What?” Brooke smirks as she pulls a thong over her hips then crawls back onto the bed to give Vanessa a kiss, jerking Vanessa from her fantasy.

“Nothing.” Vanessa lies, hoping that Brooke doesn’t notice how hot her face is growing but almost certain that the older woman does.

She thinks about Brooke’s ass for the rest of the day, the feeling of it in soft and smooth in her hand during round two lingering on her palm as she drives home.

–

Vanessa’s ass is without a doubt the most tantalizing thing about her, and that’s saying something. Brooke had always been a bit of an ass woman, but Vanessa’s takes the cake, soft and round and just big enough for Brooke to squeeze and hold and dream about any time she lets her thoughts wander just a little too long.

So it’s the perfect ego boost, really, when Brooke catches Vanessa practically drooling at her ass after she’s come out of the shower.

How could she resist slipping on the skimpiest thong she owned and wiggling her ass just a little extra to tempt Vanessa into grabbing her and spanking her just right?

And, for that matter, how could she resist repaying the favour?

“D’you mind if I slip my hand into your back pocket?” Brooke whispers into Vanessa’s ear one day as they roam through the local mall, her hand already hovering near its desired destination. Vanessa shakes her head, and Brooke giggles a little as she slips her hand home, squeezing a little just to tease her girlfriend, watch as her face flushes scarlet at the sensation.

“Naughty girl.” Brooke tuts under her breath when Vanessa squeaks a little the next time Brooke does it, withdrawing her hand quickly and giving Vanessa’s ass a gentle tap. “You like it a little too much when I play with your ass like that, huh?”

“I swear to God, Brooke, keep doin’ that and you’re gonna get it when we get back to my place.”

It’s an invitation, not a threat, and Brooke takes Vanessa up on it all too many times, squeezing and grabbing and subtly brushing, before they finally rush out of the mall together, Vanessa’s grip firm on Brooke’s wrist.

Vanessa wastes no time in pushing Brooke onto the bed and flipping her over when they get home, worshipping every inch of Brooke’s ass and lapping at her hole so thoroughly that Brooke is convinced that she never wants to do anything else again.

–

They move in together about a year later, and it’s one month past their second anniversary that Vanessa notices that all her underwear has gone missing.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s happened, but Vanessa has nowhere to be that morning, so she decides it’s worth her while to play along.

“Babe, you seen my underwear?” Vanessa calls out to the kitchen, rolling her eyes when she gets nothing but poorly-suppressed giggles back.

“Nope!” Brooke calls back, “Did you check the laundry?”

“Oh, you’re right, no I didn– For literally every pair of underwear I own?” she reels out of the bedroom, turning a hard glare towards the woman waiting for her in the kitchen. Brooke’s grin is smug and wicked, and Vanessa resolves right then and there to take matters into her own hands and wipe the expression off of Brooke’s face.

“You took them, didn’t you?” she accuses pointedly, forcing an angry expression on her face despite the excitement she can feel snaking its way down between her legs.

“Me? Take all your underwear so you can’t wear any all day?” Brooke gasps, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “No, only a pervert would do that!”

“An’ I’m lookin’ right at one.” Vanessa narrows her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Admit to it and tell me where they are, an’ I’ll go easy on you, otherwise, I got ways of makin’ you talk, Mary.”

“Mm, no, I think I’d rather see you exposed all day.” Brooke shrugs, her eyes shining with mischief, and that’s when Vanessa decides she can’t wait anymore.

“Bedroom, now .” she commands, and Brooke follows with a spring in her step, no doubt already trying to guess where things are about to go. But Vanessa has always loved surprising Brooke, so she decides against a traditional route, instead forcing Brooke to bend over the bed and then taking a step back to weigh her options.

“You love it when I play with that ass, huh?” she looks Brooke up and down critically, a plan slowly forming in her mind as she does so. “That’s what you wanted from this whole thing, too, ain’t it?”

“Yes, mommy.” Brooke breathes, wiggling her ass as if to tempt Vanessa into caving already. But Brooke already knows better, Vanessa knows she does, and so she feels no guilt in reaching forward and slipping her hand between the blonde’s already-spread legs, skipping her ass altogether to tease along her slit through her jeans. Just enough to tease, not enough to please; Vanessa used to get impatient with that balance, but she’s learned well enough by now that drawing out Brooke’s pleasure only increases her own later.

“Well, you’re not gonna get it.” Vanessa withdraws her hand suddenly, instead latching on to Brooke’s hair before shoving her face down into the mattress.

“Listen carefully, sweetheart,” she leans down to whisper in Brooke’s ear, “You’re gonna tell me where you put my underwear, or I’m going to spank your ass so hard I can’t touch it for the next month, then I’m gonna put you on edge-only for twice that time. You understand me, princess?”

“It’s in my suitcase, mommy, the one we keep in the front closet.” Brooke whines, gasping with relief when Vanessa lets go of her hair in response.

“Good girl.” Vanessa coos, slapping Brooke’s ass as a little reward, a marker of what’s to come next. “See how much easier it is when you coboporate?”

Brooke snorts, and Vanessa rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean, bitch. Now,” she continues, sliding back into domspace as quickly as she had almost fallen out of it, “There’s still the matter of your punishment. Can’t let you get away with trickin’ me, now, can I?”

“No, mommy.” Brooke shakes her head, earning another spank, a little harder this time, closer to the level of impact Vanessa knows Brooke likes.

“That’s right, we can’t.” Vanessa lands another slap, smiling when Brooke moans at the impact. “So here’s how it’s going to go down.” another hit, another moan, and Vanessa can hardly contain her own excitement as she continues, “You wanted to worship my ass today, you gonna worship it, and if you do it right, then I’ll take our strap–the nice, big, long one, that’s right sweetheart–an’ destroy that tight little hole of yours until you come so many times it hurts.”

Brooke mewls at the next spank, and Vanessa can’t help but snicker to herself, her heart melting just a little despite the persona she’s trying so hard to keep up. She loves this, loves turning Brooke into a mindless puddle beneath her, loves being able to make Brooke so needy for her hands, her tongue, her strap, that everything else melts away.

“Alright, sweetheart, why don’t we get started?”

–

Brooke takes her time to work her way down Vanessa’s body, kissing and nipping and stroking until Vanessa is squirming and gasping, trembling on the edge of impatience. She bites at the flesh of Vanessa’s ass, reminding her to stay still. It’s a shame, really–Brooke loves making Vanessa gasp underneath her, but at the same time, there’s nothing hotter than watching Vanessa try to keep herself together when Brooke can tell that she’s incredibly close to falling apart.

“So pretty, mommy.” Brooke smirks, bringing a hand up to knead at Vanessa’s other cheek as she continues to kiss her way over her ass, towards her hole. “Just the prettiest, most amazing ass.”

She smacks Vanessa’s ass suddenly, feeling a surge of arousal run through her body when Vanessa lets out a sinful moan.

“You like that, mommy?” Brooke asks innocently, slapping Vanessa’s ass again, listening to that absolutely delicious moan again.

“You know I do.” Vanessa grunts.

“Good.” without further ado, Brooke squeezes Vanessa’s cheeks together before spreading them apart, trailing her tongue towards Vanessa’s hole. Within minutes of her flicking her tongue over Vanessa’s hole, swirling it in circles and every so often dipping the tip of her tongue into it, Vanessa’s moans have become short, high-pitched whimpers, and then they choke off, nothing but huffs of air coming out of her mouth before she goes rigid, screaming silently as she comes.

“You good?” Brooke teases after Vanessa’s come down from her orgasm. Vanessa nods, panting hard in an attempt to catch her breath. Brooke giggles, moving up towards where Vanessa lays and wiping her mouth.

“I’ll give you a second, then.” Brooke continues, tracing Vanessa’s stomach with a single finger, “Catch your breath, then why don’t you get that strap and do what you promised?”

Vanessa rockets up almost instantly, rushing over to their bedside table to grab everything necessary for the task at hand.

“Turn over, let me see that ass.”

Brooke shivers with excitement as she watches Vanessa shimmy into the strap, slide on a condom, and begin to lube herself up, smiling with an almost wicked grin as she does.

It’s going to be a long night, but with Vanessa, that’s never a bad thing.

space: g.d

concept: we all know gray is a clingy little koala bear but i also feel like he’d think a girl who values her independence is super hot. (spoiler alert: it’s not always plain sailing though)

~3000 words

warnings: angry grayson likes bad language and i apparently like a lot of dialogue

“hey! hey, y/n! are you awake?” he whispers, not quite as quietly as he’s trying for. following a little nudge to your side from where you’re laying next to him, your eyes flicker open and gradually meet his after you’ve tried to snuggle further into his side to avoid been woken up. “y/n? hey,” he repeats, nudging you lightly again. accepting you’re not getting any more sleep just now, you nod and grumble, “what’s up baby?” “oh, cool – you’re awake. do you wanna get breakfast together?” “what? now? gray, it’s –“ you hesitate to check his phone that you know is charging at the side of his bed. “it’s 2:17. is everything ok baby?” he snuggles down, tugging the sheets up to cover both of your shoulders and he rests his head right next to yours. “yeah, just couldn’t sleep. was thinkin’ about plans for tomorrow is all,” he answers, eyes tracking over your face adoringly. a contented smile grows on your face and you bring up your hand to peek out of the covers to rub at his cheek. he closes his eyes with a smile. “can’t tomorrow, bub. i’ve got a meeting first thing, then lunch and time with the girls. how about dinner at my place?” “my popular business queen. killin’ it!” he sleepily giggles, soothed by your hand still stroking at this cheek. “tha’s me,” you smile in reply. “i’ll text you when i leave the girls and you can come over. pasta sound good?” “with you? the best,” he slurs, almost sound asleep now. “pasta it is then, now get some rest,” you instruct, smoothing your hand over his hair and then down under the covers again. “hey, y’n?” he murmurs just as you’re about to slip back to sleep. “yeah?” “there’s that cereal in the pantry that you like – make sure you eat before you go. can’t be a business queen on an empty stomach,” he whispers, then immediately falls to sleep.

“can you see me now?” a black screen asks you for the fifth time in the same minute. “it’s the signal baby, let me just move over by the window. how about now?” you ask. grayson’s grinning face finally appears on the facetime screen as you tilt your phone just so. “heyyy! there’s my baby!” you grin upon seeing his face. “there she is,” he replies, his smile growing wider at hearing your joy to see him. “how are you?” he asks. “good, gray! the weather is freakin’ awesome here! how’re you?” “doin’ good, baby. even better now! question – why does it feel like you’ve been on your business trip for seven years now?” he asks, dramatically throwing his arm over his eyes as you loudly laugh. “oh yeah, three days; seven years. pretty similar! I’ll be back before you know it, baby – only another two days before we can hibernate in my room,” you smile. “ugh, that sounds like paradise right now! everything’s so boring without you here atht he minute. E won’t get off this new game he’s just got and i need company!” he whines. “aw poor baby! go out and have fun yourself! there’s so much to do in LA,” you remind him. “i know, i know! i’m fun and smart and i enjoy my own company,” he mocks you. “hey! don’t be mean – it’s true! you’re literally the least boring person, don’t hold yourself back. could you go skating or for a run on the beach? hell, go spray paint some public property! but do it by yourself and freaking have fun!” you say. he laughs deeply with a fond look in his eyes, nodding as he says, “ok my little cheerleader; we’re not all as comfortable with our own company as you are,” he reminds you. it’s your turn to laugh now. “is it really that weird i like being alone? i mean obviously i love spending time with you but damn, sometimes i just need my own space, y’know?” “nah, it’s not weird – it’s admirable! i blame ethan being stuck to my side all the freakin’ time for me not knowing how to function alone,” he jokes. “definitely his fault,” you jokingly agree. “how dare he be your identical twin?!” “right?! anyway baby, tell me about your trip and how you absolutely don’t miss me at all,” he grins.

you’re hanging out at the boys’ house for the afternoon sharing the couch with grayson; he’s at one end reading a book and you’re at the other scrolling through your phone. your legs are intertwined at the centre and you’re tickling his leg that’s closest to you with your nails, just to be touching him.

ethan bursts through the kitchen into the living room and announces, “one of the guys we go to the skate park with’s throwing a party tonight at the beach – are you guys down?” “yeah, dude – i’m down!” gray replies as ethan fist bumps him. two pairs of identical eyes turn to look at you and ethan asks, “y/n? are you down?” raising his eyebrows to match his question. “uhhh, no – sorry,” you reply, tilting your mouth up to the side in silent apology. “oh, ok. no worries! have you got other plans?” ethan asks genuinely, taking a seat on a chair at the side. “um, no, not really,” you state honestly, tucking your legs in as gray starts to shuffle up from his laying down position. “if you’ve got no plans you should come, y/n! it’s only J from the skate park and he’s super chill. it’d be fun and you’d be totally welcome,” ethan encourages. “nah, it’s ok, really. thanks for the invite though, E,” you smile, which he returns quickly. you’ve just gone back to scrolling through your phone when you hear gray clear his throat. you look up and he’s looking at you intently, book long forgotten shoved on the couch next to him. “why don’t you wanna come, y/n? is everything ok?” he asks as ethan looks between the two of you. “i- well- i just don’t want to, really. just want a quiet night, y’know?” you explain, shrugging your shoulders to show this really isn’t as big of a deal as gray’s trying to make it. “ok, well i’ll stay here too and we can do something together,” he offers, his intense stare not faltering. he’s challenging you. “gray, honestly – go to the party and have fun. i’ll stay at my house and have just as much fun, then when we get dinner tomorrow you can tell me all about it. chill out about it,” you say as his gaze becomes heated. “are you serious right now?” he asks, voice louder than it should be with so little distance between you. you lock your phone and sit up to meet his gaze. if he’s trying to cause an argument then you’re not going to back down. you raise your eyebrow and without blinking, you retort, “are you?” with a short, insincere laugh. “no – really. you’re choosing to go home and spend time on your own doing whatever it is that you find so much fun rather than go out with your boyfriend? you’re honestly telling me that you don’t see why that pisses me off?” he asks, voice growing louder and more disbelieving. never one to back down, you swing your legs down onto the floor and reply, “i’m honestly telling you that it pisses me off that you think i have to be with you every second of the day to be a good girlfriend. is that what you want to hear?” you see ethan silently stand up, slowly and awkwardly backing out of the room as he senses this conversation is quickly turning into a fight. “why is it so weird that i want to spend time with you?” he asks, stood up now with his hands messing up his hair. you know this is a sore spot for him; your rare fights are always over this very topic. “why is it so weird that i like my personal space? i’m not like you! i haven’t spent every waking moment attached to someone and it makes me feel like i’m suffocating if i don’t get that time every now and then. you know this, grayson!” you stand up – always ready to match him. “oh? oh? so i suffocate you. fuckin’ awesome, y/n. just what i wanted to hear, for fucks sake,” he mutters that last part almost inaudibly. he’s really pissed now and you can see it in the way his chest heaves and his jaw moves. that fact he’s getting so worked up over this issue again pisses you off even more. “don’t start with this, gray – we literally have this same fight every couple of months. you signed up to this! it’s not something you can change about me, why is that so hard for you to understand?” “we have the same fight because it’s still just as fucking infuriating, y/n!” he yells, gesticulating his hands in front of him. “no man wants to hear that his girlfriend would rather spend time at home doing fucking laundry rather than spending time with him! it makes me feel like i’ve got nothing left to give you!” you stand stock still. “what do you mean?” you ask, taken aback by how he’s phrased the last part of that sentence. “i mean you’re you – you know what you like and what you don’t, you know who you are and you don’t change that for anyone. sometimes i feel like i add nothing to your life. sometimes i feel like i hold you back when i just wanna cuddle with you or spend time with you around here or at yours. i feel guilty that maybe you’d rather be spending time on your own doing whatever it is that yo do but i’m keeping you here with me. it fucking sucks.” “you honestly think that?” you ask, emotion welling up in your chest and showing slightly in your quiet voice and the way your forehead is pinched. “you went on a business trip for five fucking days and literally told me over the phone about how great of a time you were having and how much you didn’t miss me!” he laughs with no humour. his arms are raised back in the air and his hair is beyond messed up now. “grayson, how can i miss you when we’re never fucking apart?” he hates – no, he despises your response. he lets out that loud laugh that you hate  because it means he’s about to walk away from you. “ok, cool. well have your fucking space now then, yeah?” he spits as he turns and walks out, grabbing his car keys and slamming the front door as he goes. you take in a few deep breaths, trying your best not to lose it in the middle of the twins’ living room and you take a seat on the couch again, placing your head in your hands and leaning your elbows on your knees. “wow, that didn’t sound good…” you hear coming from the kitchen. ethan takes one look at your face as you look up at him and winces at how unhelpful what he’s just said was. he trudges over to sit beside you on the couch and asks, “wanna talk about it?” “not really,” you respond. “c’mon. tell uncle ethan all about that nasty fight,” he jokes, trying to make you smile. sarcastically and in your peppiest voice you say, “well uncle E, i’m so glad you asked! your dick of a brother is pissed at me because i don’t want to spend my every waking moment with him for the rest of eternity! he hates the fact i know my own mind and he wishes i was totally different and didn’t have my own personality at all! if only i was an eighteenth century character from a romantic novel who’s only goal in life was to please their love!” you hiss, shoving your head back into your hands. ethan winces again, then replies. “ok, so you said a couple of interesting things there. i’m just gonna gloss over the bitchy tone and the bit about the book that i didn’t quite the reference of and i’m just gonna focus on this bit – you think gray hates that you’re strong minded?” “obviously so,” you mumble. “oh, y/n. you couldn’t be more wrong,” he laughs to himself. you raise your eyes that were trained to the floor up to meet ethan’s face and wait for him to continue. “in the long, long list of things that i have to hear grayson talk about how much he loves about you - and believe me, it’s freaking long - you being your own person? that’s pretty much at the top.” you raise your eyebrows in question, showing that you’re very much listening and ethan needs to keep on talking. “seriously – ‘god, E, she’s so independent. she knows exactly what she wants and she doesn’t need anyone to help her get it – it’s so freakin’ hot... she couldn’t make plans with me because she’s already made plans with her friends – why does that make me want her even more?’ oh yeah - the amount of times i’ve heard about it, i can honestly tell you, he doesn’t hate it. stop telling yourself he does. he does, however, love you a lot and sometimes, he doesn’t want to feel like he’s competing someone else for your love.” you can feel him thinking at the side of you before he quickly adds, “that other person is you, by the way. just in case you didn’t get that.” in dramatic ethan style, he stands up without warning and leaves you to contemplate exactly what he’s said. you sit there for the next forty five minutes, mulling over ethan’s wise words as the front door opens and then closes in a much calmer way than you last heard it. his keys are tossed into the bowl by the door and a couple of footsteps later, grayson appears in the entryway. he looks surprised to see you, his mouth dropping open into a small ‘o’ shape. you smile sadly at him, full of emotion that the last hour or so has caused you. “you’re still here?” he questions. “yeah. sorry if you wanted me to go,” you reply, suddenly unsure if you should be there at all. should you have left? after all, this is what your argument was about to start with. quickly, he shakes his head, upset that you would even think he didn’t want you there. “no, no. i’m glad you stayed,” he says quietly, followed by an unsure, “why did you stay?” you smile at his surprise, then reply a simple, “had a little chat with E. he’s very wise, y’know.” a gentle laugh and a whispered, “oh god,” escapes grayson’s mouth and, with his nervous hands still in his pockets, he makes his way over to you. you’re more hurt than you thought you would be when he sits in the chair rather than next to you on the couch. he can tell, and he explains softly so as to not cause another fight, “don’t want to suffocate you.” he casts his eyes down sadly as tears flood your eyes. he hates seeing you upset but this has upset him too. you take a deep breath to try and steady your emotions but your voice still wobbles as you say, “gray. i’m sorry if i ever made you feel like you’re not my number one priority. i’m sorry if i made you feel second best or if i made you feel like i was happier when i was away from you. the truth is, you make me feel so safe and secure that i like that i can go and do my own thing and then come right back home to you. i’m so in love with you that when we’re apart, i think about how right it will feel when we come back together. i know it will be so fucking worth it that i enjoy the moment i’m living in right then. i’m sorry that you think i don’t miss you but i simply don’t let myself think about it. instead, i look forward to kissing you again when we’re reunited and the butterflies i feel when i know its only a couple of hours til i see you again. i know you think it’s fucking weird that i like my space, but that’s me. i wish i could change that for you but i can’t and i hope that that’s something you can accept about me,” you state honestly. gray’s looking directly at you now, face mirroring yours; full of emotion. he’s nodding slowly, like it’s suddenly making a bit more sense to him. “i can’t say i’ll ever understand it, y/n, but that’s part of what makes me love you just that little extra. it drives me fucking insane that you’d rather spend time without me sometimes but i can’t say that i hate it. the thought that my girl is so self confident that she doesn’t need me? fuck, that’s as hot as it is infuriating.” he smiles. “i’d never thought about it like that before, though - what you just said. never though about how great it is when we reunite,” he mumbles, then slowly moves closer to you by sitting on the couch. he slides over until his knee is touching yours. you’re both feeling a little too vulnerable to really look at each other in your eyes at first but when he taps your knee with his index finger twice, you sniff and look up. “i’m sorry i keep getting angry about the same thing. i just get a little insecure at times. i love you and i’m sorry for making you sad and for making you feel like you wish you could change. please forgive me,” he whispers. you lean in and rest your forehead against his gently. his eyes close and he lets out a breath he’s been holding, tension releasing from his shoulders. he leans in slowly, and presses a tender kiss to your lips. you lift your hand to his jaw and keep him there, pressing kiss after kiss to his lips and not wanting to let him go. the kisses get deeper and more desperate as you both let out the emotion that you’d been holding in. a voice from the hallway makes you both jump and pulls you away from your private little world with giggles coming from swollen lips and relief pulsing through your bodies that you’d manage to solve your argument. “cool! you’ve made up. so, are we on for the beach or no?” ethan asks, leaping behind the wall next to him as gray picks up a cushion and violently throws it in his brother’s direction. the two of you spend the next couple of hours cuddled together in gray’s bed after making sure that you both knew just how forgiven the other person was. you’re just about to drop to sleep when gray’s hand brushes over your forehead gently and he whispers, “hey, y/n? it’s 11:30 - do you want me to take you home?” he presses a kiss into your hair as he waits for your response. he desperately tries to hide his elated grin as you shuffle sleepily closer to him, wrap your arms just that bit tighter around his waist and rest your head right in the crook of his neck. “wanna stay right here,” you whisper as you drift off to sleep.

inspired by NASA - queen ari you can say "i love you" through the phone tonight really don’t wanna be in your arms tonight i'm just sayin', baby i can’t really miss you if i’m with you

FemSebaRin: So Soft

A Floundering Mey Rin finds herself smitten with the beautiful but cold Governess Sebastian. So how on earth is she supposed to thaw the other woman’s heart so she can win it over?? Perhaps the intervention of some little feline intruders can help...

Mey Rin caught herself staring at the Governess of the house again, while standing still and proper, highlighted by the sun shining in through the windows and over her profile, clapping her small dainty hands in time to her young mistress’ dance lessons.

How could such a beautiful lady be just a Governess?? She looked like she should be the head of a household! Ordering servants around, hosting parties with other elites. Oh, imagining Miss Sebastian in a gown on a ballroom FLOOR made Mey Rin nearly flop to the floor with overwhelm, and she had to hide away in the hall and flap a hand over her face to cool it down!

Oh, this was too much, yes it was!

How could she have come so far, from a ratty little assassin to a maid in a house under such a GORGEOUS lady, having to see her every day, hearing her firm voice every day-

“Shouldn’t you be off somewhere else cleaning, Mey Rin?”

YES! JUST LIKE THA-- AAAA! IT WAS HER!!

“OH- Oh, pa-pardon me Miss Sebastian, I was j-just passin’ by on me way to get- get u-um, a towel to wipe up a mess, yes indeed.” She hastily thought up.

“.. The closet is downstairs, Mey Rin. You know this by now.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow in confusion at the floundering maid. “Are you feeling unwell today at all?” And then she was moving in, hovering a gloved hand to Mey Rin’s forehead to clearly check for a temperature.

Instantly the maid zipped away. She was RUNNING. “NO NO, I-I’M SORRY, MISS!” She called back, “IT-IT WAS JUST A MISUNDERSTANDIN’, YES IT WAS!!! I WON’T INTERRUPT AGAIN, I SWEAR IT!!”

Oh, what am I going to DO??? Mey Rin shouted in her mind the whole way back down. She was clearly in over her head, and CLEARLY maybe the best thing was to get over this silly fantasy mindset. She was a MAID. Sebastian was the GOVERNESS. And not to mention.. THEY WERE BOTH LADIES!

Mey Rin felt melancholy overcome her, and knew all she could do was move on.. She did have chores to do after all. Life still went on, it wasn’t gonna stop just for one hopeless maid who wanted to impress and woo a gorgeous lady! Nope, it was clear she needed to toss such silly notions aside.

And so Mey Rin went on to spend the day taking out the laundry to dry, smiling at this blissful brief moment of sunshine and a cool wind. It certainly was better than the cold, windy cramped areas of the city!

And she could watch the young gardener Finny tend to the vegetables as best he could. He was always running around, making sure every plant was watered, had enough sun, ect. And he’d talk to them too! It was so sweet, and certainly helped keep the maid’s mind off bad things..

Until suddenly she could hear the boy audibly gasping!

“Oh no!” The boy cried, “What’re you doin’ out here, little kitty!” He was running off out of the dirt and over to a corner of the mansion. Mey Rin also put the basket of sheets down, placed her hand over her eyes to shield it from the sun, and took off her spectacles to get  proper look of what the boy was running to.

Indeed, it seemed like some kind of little kitten was making its way along the manor’s wall, just ambling along. Big blue eyes looking around curiously, and bright orange and white fur fluffed up making the little one look more like a big moving cotton ball!

“Oh dear!” Mey Rin cried and hurried over to join the gardener, who was about to pick the kitty up as he squatted down.

“Let me see them, oh my.. they are so young, why are they all alone!” She cried.

“Maybe their family is near by...” Hummed Finny thoughtfully as he let the maid handle picking them up, “Oh, I bet Miss Sebastian would know where they are!”

“Wh-whot??” Mey Rin asked incredulously, staring at him like he was talking another language, suddenly. “How would Miss Sebastian know that, Finny??”

“Cause I see Miss Sebastian carryin’ around kitties all the time! She especially brings them into the manor if it’s rainin’ out real bad!”

Mey Rin just stared on in absolute confusion. Miss Sebastian... and .. cats. The two things didn’t really add up in her mind! How could this be possible?? But, despite how happy-go-lucky Finnian could be, he certainly would never MAKE UP such a thing! He was definitely not that type of boy, no sir.

“Um, a-alright, so you think it’s alright to bright the kitty inside, Finny?”

“Sure! You bring them in, I’ll go on and get Miss Sebastian!”

“U-Um WAIT, FINNY!” Mey Rin started shaking in place; couldn’t take another step forward towards the back door to the kitchen.

“What?” Finny asked, blinking at the maid like he had no idea what could possibly go wrong in this situation.

“Just... j-just don’t telll her outright a-about the cats or... o-or me... j-just say it’s- it’s somethin’ important, yes, a-alright???”

Finny’s head tilted like a puppy at the maid’s peculiar request, but he smiled all the same. “Um, okay! I’ll be back in a minute!” Aaaand he was gone.

Mey Rin groaned, plopping down in the grass with the little kitten.

“Oh lord, what am I doing??” She lifted the cat to turn it’s little big-eyed kitty face toward her own and lifted her eyebrows pleadingly at it. “Do you think Miss Sebastian will.. be happy?? She already caught me misbehavin’ once today, I should probably not even be here right now! Oh, but.. i-if Miss Sebastian does like cats, then..” The little thing was trying to sniff at Mey Rin’s face now, and it tickled quite a bit. So the maid found herself giggling a little as she let the kitty do his. Oh, it was so soft, so precious, so... 

“Over there!” Finny’s voice called out again, and Mey Rin froze up once more, the jolt almost making her glasses slip off-- Oh, no, the cat managed to reach over and bat them off themselves. Mey Rin blinked at the view change, staring up at a bright eyed happy Finny, and a.. strangely surprised and big-eyed Sebastian Michaelis!

Both were over to the maid in second, and kneeling too in the grass instead of waiting for the maid to get up, which also struck the girl as baffling! Not Finny, of course, but just SEBASTIAN going ahead and kneeling down too, her big, soft long gown looking like it was liquid melting around her in the grass as she did.

“Oh dear, the poor thing. How long has it been out here like this, all alone?” Sebastian asked automatically, voice turning into the most tender, GENTLE tone Mey Rin had ever heard... and suddenly her face was BOILING AGAIN.

“I-I-I d-do-do-don’t.. I-I don’t... I... F-Finny...” Mey Rin stuttered out in the most obscure mess she swore she’d ever done, but for once Sebastian seemed unphased, just looking over at the gardener.

Finny had not a single trace of confusion or bafflement. He just kept smiling and nodded at whatever the hell Mey Rin had been trying to say that he clearly somehow understood.

“I saw the kitty at the corner of my eye! It was just walkin’ along the side of the building all alone! I haven’t seen any other kitties around, though, so...”

“Oh dear, well there’s nothing for it, I’ll just have to take care of her in her mother’s stead for now, until she’s old enough to go out again on her own without any risks!”

She was explaining this all so casually and so outright, while also smiling down at the kitten now in her arms.

Like.. like a new mother and her baby, almost.

Mey Rin continued to boil, while still unable to help reaching over to wiggle a finger at the kitty, and have it happily mew and try to grab her finger.

“She’s... lucky to have you then, Miss Sebastian, yes she is.” Mey Rin uttered without thinking, and sighed a little. Oh, this cat was too cute to bother getting too worked up over strange statements.

“Well, I do have you two to thank for finding her, so I think she’s more lucky for you two first and foremost..” 

Mey Rin was two busy grinning at the kitty and wiggling her finger some more to see anything that would happen next, so when she felt a soft quick press of lips to her cheek, Mey Rin completely locked up, hand still out in mid-air towards the kitty, and eyes just bulging behind her spectacles.

“Thank you, dear.” Sebastian simply said, then smiled to the boy next to her as well. “And thank you as well, Finny.” And she gave him a quick peck, too.

Minutes later when Sebastian had stood to walk back in with the cat and likely stow it away somewhere in her room, Finny finally tilted his head at Mey Rin.

She’d been stuck in that same position for quite a while...

“Mey??” He asked, and waved his hand in front of her face.

After another second or two, Mey Rin FINALLY made a loud wheezing noise, and promptly flopped over into the grass.

She stared up at the sky and sighed again, mumbling one thing over and over.

“So soft... so soft... so soft...”

“Aww, I wish I coulda got to hold the kitty, too.” Finny huffed.

Quarantine UST 6

//Suggestive content

“Um, s-sorry about this...”

“Nah, it’s fine. Though, maybe I should be askin’ if you’re alright with this...yer quakin’ like a leaf.”

“A-Ah, uh...”

“...”

The girl shook her head. No, this was her idea in the first place; it would be rude to back out now...especially after all the trouble they went through to acquire the supplies. “No, I’m...sure. So, please do your best, Adam-san...I’m in your hands, literally...”

Adam was not sure if the sniper was aware of her word choice and the innuendo it carried, but nodded solemnly anyway. Armed with a comb, hairdryer and specifically, a pair of sharp salon scissors, he tied a sheet around her neck and spritzed the girl’s unruly bob down, prepping it for a trim.

After two weeks of trying and failing to clip her hair back, the sniper had given up and then sheepishly asked him to help her trim it. At first he was confused as to why she didn’t ask Jess, considering the woman was a model, but one look at those round maroons and he agreed before he knew it. Though Adam didn’t have much experience with hair styling in general, he had trimmed his own hair before on occasion, and reasoned if she just wanted it shorter, then he’d probably do all right.

Probably.

“Eeek! Th-That was a bit too close of a shave,” the sniper squeaked as the scissors chopped off a good chunk of her bangs. “...You didn’t cut too much off, did you? My forehead feels more bare than normal...”

“Uuuuhh...n, no, you look...fine.” Adam tried to make his voice sound neutral, but one look at the sniper’s face and he instantly knew he’d fucked up. ‘God fucking dammit...real smooth, Adam.’

“...Well, worst case I guess it’ll eventually grow back.” Sio muttered, now seriously wondering if it had been a good idea to ask the guy who housed the soul of a throat-slasher to help cut her hair. ‘But you’d think a guy who’s so skilled with a blade on the field would be dexterous enough for hair cutting...’

“Hey now, you’re the one who asked, squirt; I’m doin’ you a favor here...cut me some slack,” Adam muttered, still smarting over his mishap. “I ain’t a hair stylist or anything, surprised you asked me instead of someone like Jess...”

“W, Well, th-that just shows how much I trust you!” Sio blurted out, before realizing what exactly she’d just said. ‘Oh crap! I hope he doesn’t read too much into that...’

Of course, Adam read exactly as much as Sio feared he would. “...I’ll try. Just...don’t expect anythin’ fancy.” He had to pretend to busy himself with sweeping away the hair to stop himself from shaking. Did she really say she trusted him? ‘What the hell does that mean...well, I guess it means at least she doesn’t think I’m a total arse anymore...’ Thankfully, the rest of her hair was easier to contend with, though it was hard not to get distracted as he hovered in front of her face, doing his best to make sure the ends were even and not ragged.

‘Oh boy, he’s standing so close...! I can feel his breath on my face...and that nice scent...’ The sniper gulped nervously as Adam pulled her ends and squinted, trying to determine if it was level or not. ‘I wonder if that scent is from his shampoo, or laundry or...maybe he wears cologne?’ 

He didn’t seem like the type though, upon further thought. Or maybe that’s his natural scent, a naughty voice in her head joked, and it took everything fiber of her being to not just jump out of the chair (lest she get another too-close shave). She prayed her face wouldn’t turn red as Adam moved to the back, now cutting off another inch or so.

“Hmm, is this good? You said you like it just below your ears, yeh?”

“H-Huh? Oh yeah, that’s good. I just want it away from my neck...it gets so itchy otherwise.”

“Right. Got it.” Brushing away the loose hair, he switched to the scissors. “Gonna see if I can give you some more layers back here...otherwise, it’ll look bad within a week...”

Sio sat nervously as she watched bits and pieces of brown hair litter the yard. The sun was shining; not too high yet, but she hoped they would finish before it got overhead. The days were definitely warming up, and more than once Adam came downstairs complaining of how stuffy the attic was, to which Mahesh could only reply that he’d made the choice to take it.

“I did give you a choice when we first arrived, and you were the one who said you’d take it, so...”

Something soft brushed against the nape of her neck and she squealed. “Th-That tickles...!”

“Sorry; anyway, think I’m almost done. Just need to blow off the stray hair and comb it back out...” Adam blew off the rest of the hair, before combing everything neatly back into place and then gave a final nod of approval. “Alright, I think that’s good. Hm, not too shabby, if I do say so myself.” He handed the girl a small mirror. “So, verdict?”

“Oh...” Sio studied her own reflection, turning this way and that. Aside from her bangs (they were definitely too short, she sighed), it wasn’t half bad. He’d actually managed to give her bob a bit of an angle, so it was slightly more stylish than the flat cut she usually had. “Hey, not bad. I like it...well, the bangs are too short, but...”

“I’m sorry, alright? It’s a bit hard to get it right when you’re squirming around so much...” Adam grumbled. “Next time, when I say don’t move, I mean it.”

“Well, it’s not my fault my neck got itchy,” Sio stuck her tongue out briefly, but Adam knew she was just joking. “But still, thanks...finally, I have short hair again! It feel so nice...” She brushed the back briefly, enjoying the puffy strands. “Heh, I think your hair is now longer than mine,” she teased, glancing at his silvery-white strands that now just touched his shoulders. “Sure you don’t want a trim as well?”

“No thanks; I’ve seen what you can do with a knife, I’d rather not risk it,” he replied flatly, cleaning up the supplies. 

“Hey! Jerk,” she muttered, but he had a point. If it’d been up to her, she’d probably just have gotten the kitchen scissors and chopped it all off in one go. When she announced her original plan to Adam, he stared at her for a few seconds with thinly concealed horror, before managing to convince the girl that it would be worth it to get a pair of scissors just for this.

As Adam returned everything inside and swept up the stray hairs, something brushed against the back of his neck .”What th—” he jumped in surprise, before realizing the sniper was combing his hair.

“Your hair sure is getting long, though. Maybe you should tie it back; after all, don’t you know your vision’s gonna go bad like that?” She scolded, fingers running through his bangs that were, admittedly, starting to become a nuisance.

“...That’s just an urban legend,” he murmured, trying not to blush. Her fingers were delicate and small as they touched his skin, then through his scalp as she smoothed everything out with a brush. He nearly moaned as they brushed down his neck, but he bit it back just in time. “If you’re so concerned, then why don’t you tie it up for me?”

“W, Well then, I might just do that!” With a steely glint in her eye, the sniper returned with a hair tie and comb, now determined to make this work. “Seriously, how do you even see half the time?” She raised an eyebrow as she pulled his bangs back. “Oh hey look, you do have two eyes! Who’d’ve thought.”

“Right. Sure.” He rolled his eyes, trying to maintain his cool. Her cute little face filled his vision as she squinted those maroons in concentration, pulling his hair back. It felt nice to have someone brushing his hair, and even moreso, when she ran her fingers through it...he shivered slightly as the sniper started to rub his head a little more...

“Uhn...wh-what are you—”

“Is it nice? I read that head massages are a great way to relax...and it’s super easy to do,” she cooed into his ear, and that definitely sent a shiver down his spine. Was it just him, or did she suddenly seem more...mature than usual? This couldn’t possibly be happening, could it? The Sio he knew was shy, awkward and bumbling; the only time she ever showed any dominance was during battle...

‘Wait a minute, don’t tell me she’s being influenced by her e-gene even when we’re not in battle?’ 

Adam didn’t have anymore time to ruminate on that, however, as Sio massaged his scalp in earnest. His eyes fluttered shut, but he still had enough control left to not just start moaning, though it did feel really good. Just before he passed out though, she pulled his strands back a final time, tying it into a low ponytail just around the nape of his neck.

“There, all done. Huh, you look kinda different with your hair all back like this...but, not bad. It’s...different, but I like it.” She smiled as she handed him the mirror this time. “You should grow it out really long!”

“Heh, well at the rate things are going, who knows...” He glanced at the reflection. It did make him look different, but at least he didn’t look like one of those hipster ‘bros’. Also, it was true that he could see a lot better now, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. “Thanks, Ogura.”

“Mmn hmm. Consider things between us even now.”

Both Jess and Mahesh commented on their new styles as they went back in, although Sio was still very self-conscious of her now-bare forehead.

“I don’t think it’s that bad, dear. Besides, you have a cute forehead! Just think of it as not needing a trim for a while.” Jess consoled.

“Trying for a new style, Adam? I think it suits you. Maybe you should try the ‘man bun’ next, I hear those are in,” the Indian teased, getting out of the way before their leader could throw something else at him.

“Do you two wanna get your hair trimmed?” Sio offered, but they shook their heads. Jess already had long braids, and Mahesh, well, he apparently couldn’t care less how disheveled he looked.

“It’s not like we’ll be going anywhere or seeing anyone, aside from just...well, us. I don’t see the point, frankly.” The group was lounging about the living room, most still in their sleepwear; Mahesh still didn’t wear a shirt, but at least he threw on a jacket, and Jess had graduated from knickers to short shorts. Sio was making herself some toast and jam while Adam was busy with his Final Fantasy VII file, everybody else watching in great amusement or else shouting at the screen.

“Dodge dodge! No wait, do a counterstance!”

“Whoa, that’s a lot of damage...”

“That’s a lot going on at once on the screen.”

“Oy, would you all shut yer traps?! You’re not helping,” Adam groused, narrowly avoiding a game over with a phoenix down. “If you’re not going to be giving me useful advice, then can it!”

Sio giggled slightly to herself, taking in the scene before her as she ate her bread. ‘Even though it’s not the best of circumstances, it is nice to be able to spend time with everybody, like this.’ Back aboard the Logan, or even the Forrester, everyone mostly kept to themselves, except for perfunctory meetings or battle. To live an everyday existence with her teammates, and get to know them beyond their e-genes... Sio felt a warm glow within her, glad she got to experience this. 

At last Adam stopped for food, lunch consisting mostly of leftovers from the night before and whatever they had lying around. Sio slowly finished a packet of instant ramen with spam, as Adam made a smorgasbord out of leftover breakfast items.

“Y’know, if it weren’t for the fact that we’re kinda forced to be here and the circumstances, it feels a bit like uni,” Jess commented as the group sat around the table. “Though I can’t say I experienced much of ‘traditional’ university life.”

“Hn; yer romanticizin’ it too much,” Adam retorted. “Trust me, actual dorm life with a bunch of other strangers wasn’t exactly something I enjoyed. There’s a big difference between living in a giant dormitory versus a single house...”

Sio perked up at the conversation. ‘That’s right, Jess said Adam was just beginning college when he left for DOGOO...I wonder what his school life was like?’ The sniper herself hadn’t even begun to think about university, even before everything happened, and now she wasn’t sure if college was in her future. Not that she had an inkling of what she might study, anyway.

“Um, so what is it like, anyway? College?”

“Thinkin’ of applying after this is all over, squirt? Well, let me tell you it’s not all fun and games,” Adam warned as he finished off the rest of his plate. “Especially if you’re not used to taking care of yourself...”

“Th, that’s—are you implying something...” She met Adam’s eyes with a stare, which was returned in equal fervor. “A-Anyway, I doubt I’ll have to think about that for a while...who knows if I’ll even go back after all this.” Most of her classmates were already talking about their final senior year trip abroad, which, from the sound of things, might actually include San Francisco—once the pandemic was over, of course. “I’m not even sure what I’d major in, or where to go...”

“Well, it never hurts to think about your future after all this. With any luck, we’ll still be able to get on with our lives...eventually.” Mahesh commented breezily. “Who knows, maybe you’ll come out of this whole EIO thing with a better idea of what you actually want.”

Sio pondered those words over in her mind as everybody picked up their empty plates. ‘What I actually want...’ Well, for the immediate time being, it would be to get through this pandemic without dying. And maybe (hopefully?) figure out how to navigate her increasingly-complicated relationship with Adam. ‘Urg...I know I really shouldn’t be entertaining those thoughts, but still...I can’t help it if I feel this way. Is it really so wrong to like him?’

She climbed the stairs up, debating if she wanted to relax a bit before she hit the gym, or play games, or go for a walk. It was interesting to realize that, despite not really being able to go anywhere, she still had a fair amount of choices and autonomy within her daily life here. Even small things, such as deciding what to do for meals, or how to spend her free time, were things she never really considered back when every other second was spent fighting.

“Oh baby, can’t live without you baby, I’d give it up for you... You know I love you—”

“Huh? Where’s that sound coming from...” She cocked her ear up, realizing the sound was drifting through the attic door. “Oh, I guess Adam’s listening to music.” It was some low-key, jazzy R&B in English; she never would’ve guess Adam was into anything other than rock, but curiosity got the better of her, and before Sio knew it she was knocking on his door.

“Eh? What’s up, Ogura?” Adam looked at the girl in surprise, not expecting her to come knocking. “Need something?”

“Ah, uh, not really...I was, um, just...” She squirmed, hoping she didn’t sound too forward. “Just, I heard music coming from your room...a-and, I...was curious to what it was...”

Oh. “Ah, sorry about that...guess I should turn down the volume,” but Sio shook her head.

“N-No, I like it...er, well, from what I’ve been able to hear, anyway...a-and it’s not like you’re disrupting me or anything, just...” She shyly looked down at her feet, wondering what was the best way to invite herself in, if possible.

“...You, wanna come in?” The sniper looked up in surprise, face blushing a pink before she could control herself. “Since you’re curious about my taste in music and all,” he teased, but she simply nodded, and Adam stepped aside. “I’ll admit, I kinda messed up in choosing this room, ‘cause it’s hot as fuck when the sun comes in...but eh, whatever. I don’t feel like movin’ everything all over again...plus I doubt Mirza’ll be interested in switching, anyway.”

“Oh! I’m sorry to hear that...I mean, if it really bothers you, I’d be willing to trade rooms?” The sniper looked up with those round maroons, but Adam merely smiled and shook his head. 

“Nah, I’m just grousing. It’s fine, don’t worry about it, squirt.” He picked up the a jacket and pair of pants off the bed. “Sorry for the mess; wasn’t expecting a visitor.”

“A-Ah, s, sorry...” Though, just a quick glance around and Sio thought Adam must have very high standards for cleanliness. The bed was made, no dirty laundry piled anywhere, and the desk was neatly set up with a couple documents and a laptop, which was playing the music. ‘Seriously, if he stepped inside my room, he’d probably pass out first...’

“Well, make yourself at home; I’m just taking care of some stuff from DOGOO...” Adam muttered as he scanned the latest email from Saint-Germain, which contained details about an all-hands to discuss the Objects’ next potential moves. “Seriously, what the hell? They want to meet 10pm our time...”

Sio stood around nervously, unsure if she should just leave if he was going to be busy, until Adam caught sight of her just standing to the side. “Oh, feel free to sit on the bed or whatever; it’s fine by me.”

“O-Oh, okay...” She resisted the urge to just flop into it, but the moment she sat on the coverlet she could smell the scent that was very familiar by now. ‘Oh no...of course his bed is gonna smell like him...!’

“Anyway, MONKEY MAJIK’s playin’ right now, but if you wanna change the tunes, let me know.” Adam turned the volume down slightly. “You heard of them before? They’re actually founded by two Canadian brothers who went to Japan to teach English, but ended up starting a band.” As if to emphasize it, Adam changed the track to a Japanese/English one.

“Nanoni kokoro mitasa rezu Nakushita kakera sagashite Mitsukedasenai Dubai Paris Shanghai”

“Eh? Whoa, they’re so good...” The music wasn’t bad, either; it was definitely a departure from the stereotypical J-pop that she heard so often, or even the J-rock songs she liked to listen to. “Heh, it’s actually kind of fun to listen to, if you can understand both languages...” Smiling, Sio closed her eyes, simply enjoying the music.

“Dokoni ite mo I need your love Umi wo koete I’m giving you love Donna toki mo, soba ni iru yo Kore kara mo share my life with you...”

Sio blushed as she listened to the lyrics. ‘I’ll always be with you, and share my life with you. I wonder if Adam knows what the words mean...’ Actually, he most likely did; she knew Adam could speak and understand Japanese at a near-native level, which was impressive considering he’d only ever studied it in school. ‘Although, I guess I’m not half-bad with English, considering I never used it until now...’

As much as she enjoyed MONKEY MAJIK’s romantic, R&B tracks however, she was starting to become just a bit too self-conscious, as each track seemed to be more passionate than the last. “Er, um, A-Adam-san? Sorry to bother you...but, I was wondering if...if we could listen to something else?”

“Oh yeh, sure.” Adam swiveled around on his chair. “What’re you in the mood for? Alt-rock? Top 40? Pop?”

“Uh, I was wondering...you know that song that you played when we were doing VR? Beat Saber?” Adam looked confused as he searched for his memory, until he finally his mouth made an ‘o’. 

“Ah, you’re talking about Camellia then. Japanese EDM? Didn’t know you were into that...”

“Well, I don’t know about that, but it sounded really good...also, you sure like Japanese music, don’t you Adam? Are you one of those people who got into Japanese culture ‘cause of anime and games?”

At that comment however, the white-haired main spun around, a rather annoyed look on his face. “Alright look, I can see why you’d say that—and yeh, I’ll admit I first got into it ‘cause I watched a bunch of anime on the telly after school and I did study Japanese. But I am definitely not one of those waifu-worshipping Japanophiles who think it’s a paradise and can do no wrong. It’s a country like any other, just like the U.K. It’s cool and all, but it’s not perfect.” 

Sio nodded timidly, not wanting to upset him. “Of course, Adam-san...I’m, actually glad you think that, ‘cause as somebody who is from Japan...yeah, it’s definitely got some serious problems...”

“Sorry; I didn’t mean to badmouth your homeland like that...” Adam sighed and mentally berated himself for letting his mouth run, again. “Anyway, there’s several songs in the game apparently, but my favorite album is the first one, Crystallized.” 

“Rain of Amethyst...” Sio muttered to herself as she peeked at the track listing. “It sounds really pretty...” As the music chimed in though, she decided not only was the title pretty, but the song itself was beautiful. The delicate chimes mixed with piano, before the synthetic notes burst in; all accompanied by a heady, thumping bass track. It was quite different than what she usually listened to, or even heard in Japan. Not being one to frequent nightclubs or similar places that would feature this type of music, Sio found herself falling into a trance almost, concentrating on the echoing chimes and sounds that she never knew could exist.

Even though the songs barely had any lyrics worth mentioning, they were just as layered and nuanced, if not more so. All the different layers of sound, music, notes and beats combined seamlessly, the music’s flow never stopping, it seemed. Certain tracks made her feel like she was flying through space, or time, the way it washed over her. Notes flowed like water, occasionally interspersed with delicate piano or other crystal-like tones; then all of a sudden the music’s beat would kick up, sending a rush of brilliance through her ears.

‘Oh, it’s this song...!’ Finally the track Adam had been playing started; she recognized the gradual piano build-up, before the song dove headfirst like a rollercoaster into a seemingly-impossible combination of beats and notes. Closing her eyes, the sniper didn’t even realize herself sinking onto the bed, too caught up in trying to absorb the music as rapidly as it slipped her by. ‘It’s amazing...I never knew music could make you feel like this...’

“Well, that’s the album. Did you like it squirt?” The album finally ended and Adam turned around, only to find the sniper curled on her side on his bed, seemingly fast asleep. “Uh...squirt?” He looked at her slumbering visage, eyes closed and a peaceful expression on her face, and smiled to himself. 

“Heh, you’re really somethin’ else, Ogura.” Gently, so as to not disturb her, he pulled a light blanket over her, then quietly went downstairs. ------- What th...where am I? She was floating in a nebulous space, darkness all around but it wasn’t frightening at all. Beyond the horizon, a faint glow stretched into forever, her view lit with the glow of countless stars.

She looked down. Her body was nude, but she wasn’t embarrassed or cold. No, it was natural after all. It was perfectly normal. Making a wave-like motion, she discovered just a simple movement could propel her at what felt like light speed, and she struggled to stop herself from flying off into infinity.

Whoa! Slow down, get a hold of yourself... But it was like moving through molasses; each movement greatly exaggerated no matter how careful she was. In the end, she decided it was easier to go with the flow instead of fighting it. She shot forward like a rocket, marveling at the blurs of light that flew past her vision.

Suddenly she could see the Earth; only this time, there was a web crawling around, like a sinister shadow. Hey...what’s going on? And before she knew it the planet was sucking her in like a black hole, no matter how hard she tried to stop it. It was like being sucked into a whirlpool, a vast, endless depth of blue-black water (?) and though she didn’t know how, it felt like she’d become the planet itself, integrated with the very life force of Earth.

Wait...stop, what’s going on? Why am I like this? Am I trapped...? When can I get out? There was no answer, only an unsettled feeling that somehow never grew into a full panic. This can’t be real...no, I don’t believe it, it’s not real...!

“...Ah. Uhn...huh?” A low rumble of voices combined with the occasional clink of silverware greeted her as Sio opened her eyes, still bleary with sleep. “What th...that was one whacked-out dream.” She didn’t forget it like last time, but even then it made little sense. Floating in space, and then becoming part of...the planet? Even though she knew it was just a dream, probably influenced by the ethereal tones of the music she was listening to, it was still slightly disturbing. “Nnn...remind me to maybe not listen to music that gives me an out-of-body experience before bed...”

Still yawning, the sniper descended the stairs, realizing it was already past dinnertime. The skyline was a barely visible twilight now, and the smell of food made her stomach rumble. 

“Oh...sorry guys, I somehow overslept...”

“Sio! Don’t fret, we figured you’d probably want food eventually, so there’s plenty.” Jess got up and pulled a chair for the sniper, along with a bowl. “It’s curry tonight; Mahesh made it less spicy so we wouldn’t die.” 

“That was some kip you took, Ogura. You feelin’ alright?” Adam cast her a curious look as she piled her bowl high with fragrant basmati rice and the thick, creamy-orange chicken curry. “Also, nice bedhead...” Sio’s hand flew to her hair at his comment, frantically trying to smooth out the stubborn strands.

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m okay...though I wasn’t expecting to just pass out like that... I guess your bed is just too comfortable, Adam-san,” Sio said innocently, unaware of the weight her words carried. Adam choked on his tea, and Jess and Mahesh raised an eyebrow at each other. 

“...What? Is there something on my face? Why’s everyone looking at me?”

“...Nevermind, squirt.” Adam sighed and prayed the other two wouldn’t say anything else, though it was too late to try and deny that anything happened, even if it was all completely innocent in nature. 

“I did have a really weird dream though...it wasn’t exactly scary, but...well, it was just weird.” The sniper frowned, trying not to get pulled too deep into it. “Meh, oh well. Oh man, Mirza-san, this is soo good...I could eat two bowls of this...”

“Well, help yourself, there’s plenty. I’m definitely taking that as a compliment. Sure you’ll still be able to sleep tonight?”

Sio laughed sheepishly. One thing she never said no to was more sleep. “I think I’ll...manage.” Besides, if she needed to release some pent-up energy, there were definitely ways to do that, her brain suggested naughtily.

As she helped clean up the table, Jess and Mahesh now finally pitching in regularly as well, she noticed Adam was still at the table, quietly sipping his tea and seemingly lost in thought. “Hey, you...okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing. Sometimes you just wanna ruminate a bit...” He shrugged, reaching for a biscotti to dip into his tea. “Although, this means you missed today’s training, squirt...” Sio groaned dramatically, but Adam only laughed. “I’m just kidding, Ogura. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Then why do you keep reminding me,” she grumbled, lips formed into a pout. “Do you enjoy making my life miserable?”

“Hn. Depends on what you mean by that...”

“Jerk,” she muttered under her breath, but there wasn’t any real anger behind it. Truth be told, he was a lot better than say, the beginning of this quarantine. Perhaps living as normal people for once had a mollifying effect on everybody’s personalities? Given how stressful their lives were most of the time, it made sense that everybody’s real natures would come out, when they could relax and be themselves.

“...Is it wrong if I wish this could go on longer?”

He raised a white eyebrow at her. “You mean you actually enjoy voluntarily being imprisoned in this house?” She was about to retort when he laughed. “I know I know, I’m just teasin’ ya; sorry, but you are just a bit too easy sometimes...”

“Baka.” Then, before he knew it, she stole the latter half of his biscotti, causing the man to let out a cry. 

“Oy! Get your own biscuit!” 

“Hmph, that’s what you get for being a meanie,” she stuck her tongue out at him, before chomping the treat up in two bites.

“If gettin’ outta here means I don’t have to worry about you stealin’ my food, then I’m all for it,” Adam muttered. “...But I know what you mean. It’s been a long time since I’ve lived like a ‘normal’ person.” He gave a rueful smile. “Sometimes, it seems like I’ve almost forgotten about my life before DOGOO...”

Certainly, his life before all this hadn’t exactly been exciting, and oftentimes a younger Adam secretly wished for something to happen, to have some guiding direction in his mundane life. Be careful what you wish for, huh? Who would have thought that all it would take was a spontaneous cruise trip, right after his freshman year of college, and everything was turned upside-down? Sometimes Adam wondered what life would’ve been like, if he hadn’t discovered his powers; would he still be wishing for something to break up the ordinary, everyday monotony?

“Well...that’s why, we should take advantage of it now. ‘Cause I’m sure, even though right now I’m complaining about being bored...once we go back to the Logan, I’ll be missing this, a little bit...” Those maroon eyes seemed a bit more melancholy, her face a bit more mature for once.

“Hn. Same Ogura, same.”  

Blood Orange

Para: Blood Orange

Who: Monty Prescott & Vitya Cristo @vityacristo

When: June 13th, 2020

Where: Vitya’s apartment 

What: Vitya gets under Monty’s skin and forces him to talk about Schuyler, both boys experience unusual feelings.

Triggers: Suicide, Drug use, Abuse 

MONTY

Monty was fuming after the fight with Schuyler. The redhead had managed to press all his buttons and wound him up so tightly he'd exploded, in public, spilling his emotions where everyone could see. Nothing had been able to numb the fear and pain coursing through him. He'd smoked half a packet of cigarettes, a bottle of Jack, and three joints, and yet he was still feeling the pain but now with a sore head. He was already out of E from the fights with Nikko and he couldn't get hold of his usual supplier. Monty needed a distraction, he needed a good fuck. He also needed someone he could be honest with, or at least someone he could be around without having to go through the exhaustion of putting up his walls with. Nikko and Sam were still in Tn, Danny was in Colorado... that only left Vitya. The younger man had about as many issues as Monty himself and was in no place to judge, he was also a great lay. Monty picked up his phone with a tremor in his hand and hit call. "Yo, Vit, ya busy or got time for a fuck?" He tried to sound seductive but the emotion was heavy in his voice.

VITYA

Vitya had been home a day or two, enjoying his privacy and quiet. Most of his time was spent relaxing, catching up on easy chores, like laundry. He was not a domestic person, but also did not feel well enough to go to a bar or club. The hospital had drained him. Still, when his phone began to ring, and he saw who was calling, curiosity getting the better of him. He answered, and a smile cracked onto his face. "Careful, you come around any more often, I may just need to give you your own key," he joked, holding the phone to his ear by shoulder to fold a shirt in his hand. "So, what brings you my way this time around? You fucked me, like yesterday. A great home-warming present, by the way."

MONTY

Monty couldn't help the small grin that Vitya's sarcastic greeting put on his face. It was easy being around him, things weren't complicated or messy, they were just themselves and that idea alone had Monty relaxing a little. "Don't be makin' ya'self too available, ya poor ass is gonna be so sore ya wont be able ta sit for a week." He chuckled, grabbing his phone, wallet and keys. Vitya hadn't told him to fuck off, in fact it basically sounded like an invitation to him so Monty headed out in the direction of Vitya's place. "For an invalid ya took my dick like a champ, gotta see if it's a fluke or if all them needles they've been stickin' in ya really worked." Mont lied easily, covering up his own need and the small flicker of concern for his friend? fuck buddy? After finding out just how much time he'd spent in the hospital.

VITYA

"Isn't that the whole point?" Vitya said back, starting to move all the clothes to his bedroom. Vitya could hear something off in Monty's voice. Something visceral was there. The words were Monty's normal, sarcastic self, but the tone felt too open. "Practice makes perfect- Also being a pillow princess is, like, easy. And we have done it enough times, you know it ain't a fluke." Vitya sat on his bed, leaning back on his hand. "Oh, when you get here, keep your clothes on. I'll handle that," Vitya said in his low, wispy tone, hoping that would convince the man on the other side that Vitya couldn't hear his different tone.

MONTY

"Mm ya wanna feel it the next day, I got ya, figured ya might wanna go easy on ya crippled ass but fine we can go hard, I know exactly how ya like it." Monty didn't even try to keep his voice down as he walked across campus, all he concentrated on was keeping his tone even and teasing. "As much fun as I have poundin' ya ass we gotta get ya back ta full strength so ya can ride me hard." He taunted, more of his mind slipping from his pain and concentrating on what was in store for him as it seemed he had Vitya fooled that everything was normal. "Pillow princess puttin' in some work today, sounds good ta me, want that mouth." Monty groaned quietly as he reached the door to Vitya's apartment.

VITYA

Vitya could hear the desperation growing in Monty's voice over the phone. On one hand, it was such a turn-on. Vitya loved this, being able to wind someone up, have them wrapped around his finger. But between talking to Anthony, and his latest stint with death, whatever empathy that was still buried in him was rearing it's pretty little head. "What, and have you sit and wait like a good little boy? You're too impatient for that." he teased again, keeping the conversation going. He heard Monty from the other side of the door as well as through the phone, Vitya walking over, opening it, and tugging Monty inside by the shirt collar. With a bite of his lip, he tossed the phone to the side and shoved Monty onto the couch. He took his hair, yanked it back, and with a look of complete seriousness on his face, Vitya stared Monty dead in the eye. "What happened?"

MONTY

"Come on now, ya know I can still fuck ya hard even when ya ride me, I ain't waitin', an' I definitely ain't a good boy, ya know that ya filthy boy." Monty taunted, keeping focused on the conversation and begining to feel very hot and flustered, Vitya knew exactly how to get him going and his cock responded to the words quickly as blood began to rush to his groin. "Impatient hm?" Monty grinned at the surprising strength in the lanky young man as he was caught off guard before he even had a chance to knock. A pained groan escaped Monty's lips as he was manhandled. "What the fuck do ya mean what happened, I should be the one askin' you. What the fuck are ya doin'?" He seethed, brow furrowing in confusion and fists clenching ready to attack.

VITYA

"I mean, why are you calling me, on the edge of a meltdown?" Vitya said back, releasing Monty's hair and standing up straight, crossing his arms. "I am going to fuck you, you're here so it's happening, but you are going to tell me why I could hear you holding back baby-tears. Like it or not, Monty, you aren't getting this-" he said, motioning to his body. "Until you tell me what happened. It was the redhead, wasn't it?"

MONTY

"Fuck you, asshole." Monty yelled. He hated this, hated when people could see through his defences, hated showing any signs of vunerabilty, any clue that he was human and could be hurt. "What if I don't fucking want ya, huh, ever think of that?" He growled, standing up and begining to pace the room. He could leave, he could run back to his hiding place in his own room, Vitya wasn't stopping him, but some how he couldn't bring his feet to move more than a few steps in each direction. "It's always the fuckin' redhead." He ground out.

VITYA

Vitya laughed under his breath. "That's a damn lie, you're still tenting," Vitya said, clearly as a joke and not an actual dig at Monty. He left the man pace, seeing the seething anger. He wasn't leaving, proving Vitya's idea right; this was going to be an angry, vicious fuck. He was fine with that, normally, but he was not exactly normal enough to take that. That, and Monty was somehow becoming... significant to Vitya. He wasn't sure why, but it was something. "Mind telling me what the history is? All I ever see is you, being a dick to him, him telling you off, and then his ball and chain holding him back." Vitya paused, licking his lips. "Is he an ex? Do you even have exes?"

MONTY

Monty moved forward in a flash, grabbing Vitya by the hips, pressing the length of their bodies together, and capturing his soft lips in a hard kiss. It was rough and deep and unrelenting; the only way he could expel some of his feelings."Yeah well ya ass get's me all worked up." Mont tried to tease but it came out flat so instead of sounding sexual he just sounded tired. Monty rubbed a hand over his face, vision blurring when he pressed the heal of his hand to his eyes. He wanted to throw himself into Vitya's body and forget everything, take his pain out on the boy, but somehow he didn't have the strength, he craved human touch, the warmth of another body to take away his pain completely not just forget for a few moments the way Schuy had for a short time back when they had been together. It felt wrong to want that again after all he'd done to destroy what he and Schuy had tried to build. But Vitya was the same as Monty; he was broken too not some untouchable thing like Schuy; he was real. "Ex. Singular."

VITYA

Vitya didn't fight it when Monty got close and kissed him. In fact, he was too shocked to react. They had kissed before, usually mid-fuck, clearly just to enhance whatever they were doing at the time, but this... This was different. When they broke apart, and Monty rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand, Vitya took his hands off and put them at his sides. "You'll go blind doing that," he mumbled, fixing the mess he had made of Monty's hair earlier when he grabbed it. Vitya nodded, laughing low in his chest. "Guessed that much. I take it the two of you ended things poorly, and now you see how good you had it and want it back." Vitya took a few steps away, sitting himself down on the couch to give Monty room to pace, breathe, talk, whatever he needed. "Can't say I don't relate. Not a day goes by that I don't miss home. I take it he was yours?"

MONTY

The kiss had loosened some of the tension in Monty enough so that he didn't flinch away when Vitya touched his hands. Mont stretched his neck out, almost like a cat being petted, as Vitya played with his hair; it felt soothing in a way he wasn't used to, a way he hadn't felt since Schuyler. "Dunno how much of that fight ya saw but yah, fuckin' shit. Caught me cheatin', he beat the guy with a fuckin' camera then went to fuckin' Israel." Monty replied flatly, scanning the room for alcohol if only to keep his eyes from Vitya, not understanding how or why he was spilling information he never expected to share with anyone. "Dunno about home man, ain't never had one of 'em before. Ya miss the Bratva, huh?"

VITYA

Vitya could see it; the starvation of touch, the blatant want of affection without saying it. Humans were social creatures, and Monty was no different. Monty was being open, so open it nearly weirded Vitya out. But this wasn’t like Benji, spilling every little detail worth telling. Monty only said what he wanted, when he wanted. Vitya pulled his legs up and under him, patting the spot next to him on the couch. This wasn’t the first time that, as a prostitute, a client needed to vent to him. But this was the first time Vitya... cared? Payed attention? Who knows. “I saw enough.” Vitya was not surprised that Monty was a cheater. The fact he admitted it was new, a spark of humility showing in Monty’s words. Vitya smiled to himself, looking down at the hand he had resting on his thigh. “Perhaps I do. Or maybe I simply miss my ponytail.” He joked. “So, if you know he is taken, and has refused you several times, why do you keep going after him? What about him is special to you?”

MONTY

Monty bit is lip, looking between Vitya and the open spot on the couch, he stood still for a long moment in silence before breathing out heavily and sitting down beside the younger man. It was strange to have someone that wasn't Nikko asking and listening and allowing him to share at his own pace. Even wanting to share was so foreign. Somehow he felt it easy to share. It was still painful and confusing but he didn't feel judged or humiliated. “Miss that ponytail, fuckin' badass ponytail man." Monty chuckled. “Can't fuckin' tell ya why man, never felt shit for anyone but ma brother Nikk, scared the shit outta me, but without it I'm fuckin' terrified, dunno what I'll be without ever havin' that shit again, I don't wanna find out, I ain't a good guy, I don't wanna be ma Pops."

VITYA

Vitya let Monty sit and talk at his own pace. Unlike his clients, he didn’t touch him on his back for fake comfort. When the revelation about his father came out, all made sense. Monty was a gang kid, and his dad was no better. Vitya looked him up and down, biting his lip. Yeah, they had a lot in common. “...I get that. A lot more than you know.” Vitya ran his fingers in Monty’s hair again, same way as before. “If you are that fearful that you’ll end up like him, best to look at where you are. So, example; I left the country, cut my hair, have sex for a living, and am-“ Vitya chuckles sadly. “I’m basically just waiting to die instead of fighting it. All to tell my dad to fuck off. I know I’ll never be like him because nothing can drag me back there... What do you do? Ignore other people, ignore your brother a moment; what does Montgomery do to not be his father?”

MONTY

A shiver ran through Monty and a soft moan escaped his throat with his permission as Vitya ran his hands through his hair. It felt so fucking good. He felt so touch starved, not realizing it until this moment and he had to clench his fists to stop himself reaching out and grabbing onto Vitya. “Wait in’ ta die, what the fuck?” Montys eyebrows shot up in surprise and confusion, his own problems pushed to the back of his mind, refusing to concentrate on anything else, ignoring Vitya’s question.

VITYA

Vitya kept his touch going, gently coaxing Monty into a more relaxed sate. He rolled his eyes at Monty's surprise at what he said. "What, did you think I was in the hospital for the fuck of it? It doesn't matter, this isn't about me. I'm fine, you aren't." Vitya moved so his legs were crossed. "I did what I could to get to where I am. I'm not happy, but I'm content. What about that redhead is keeping you from being content? Why aren't you letting go?"

MONTY

Monty glared at Vitya, eyebrows still raised, “Aye figured ya went too hard on the drugs an’ booze been there done that but the fuck ya dyin’ fuckin’ explain that shit!” He growled, refusing to let it drop, though not entirely sure why. Monty rubbed a hand over his face again, clearly Vitya was not going to drop this. “Al’ight, go with the ignorin’ ma brother thing Red is the only one who ever gave half a fuck about me. Pops ain’t just some street thug, he’s mob, he’s a fuckin’ Don, an’ he don’t give a shit who he hurts ta get more power. With Red I didn’t have ta be the son of the Don or hide.” Monty responded, apparently finding the hem of his shirt endlessly fascinating so as to not look at Vityas expression. Monty couldn’t believe he was sharing his deepest feelings and was sure he would be laughed at for his pathetic admission. Then again this was Vitya... a guy who never judged just like Schuy... but unlike Schuy this guy had experiences of his own... maybe he understood Monty in a way Schuy never could.

VITYA

"Yes, I am, it's a stupid heart condition. Ventricular tachycardia. Had it all my life, it will kill me, end of story." Vitya said in a snappy tone. Much like Monty's reaction to Vitya's inquiry into is emotions, this was Vitya's soft spot. This was his Schuyler, in some twisted way. Vitya got it a lot more than Monty knew. He nodded, shrugging in understanding before licking his lips. "Russia is anything but legit in it's government. The state controls everything. Kind of like a mafia. Say the wrong thing, you disappear." Vitya pet at Monty's hair, this time lower, toward his neck. "If he isn't willing to make you feel the way you want to, then maybe you should go looking somewhere else. Besides, love, romance, dating- It's shit. A messy load of shit, and if it makes you feel like this-" Vitya motioned to Monty. "-Then that just proves how much it isn't worth it."

MONTY

Monty furrowed his brow, “don’t know what that is but pretty fuckin’ sure it ain’t good an’ all the booze an’ drugs ain’t helpin’. Ya said ya waitin’ ta die but man it sounds more fuckin’ like ya tryin’ ta kill ya’self!” Monty yelled, surprised by the force in his own tone. Since when did he give a shit what other people did to themselves. “Sounds like my fucking family, at least my pa is the one that makes people disappear so I ain’t goin anywhere but fuck it might be better if I did. There ain’t words ta describe how much of a prick he is.” Monty groused but relaxed again under Vityas touch. It was reassuring and yet terrifying that he seemed to be able to control Monty’s emotions this way. Yet the feeling of giving up control is was almost welcomed; he didn’t have to fight to stay in control and it gave him room to breathe. He idly wondered how Vitya had gotten out of Russia but couldn’t bring himself to ask, that seemed too much like being interested or caring. It was bad enough he’d let himself slip and ask about his illness. “It’s all bullshit. Love an’ dating an’ all that. Just made me feel fuckin’ weak an’ just waitin’ to be punched in the gut when he walked away an’ then he did walk an’ I felt like dyin’. I fuckin’ hate how he made me feel man. Never want that shit again. Never!” He ground out with a hard expression, going back to repeatedly clenching and unclenching his fists to avoid lashing out.

VITYA

"They aren't, but I'm not going out with a whimper, either. Fearing it, trying to push it back, just prevents the inevitable. I want to be here for a good time, not a long time." Vitya shook his head, throwing a hand in the air as if to give up. "Maybe I am trying to kill myself, at least I am doing it on my own terms. And I'm not jumping off bridges or that dumb shit. I'm just having fun. Like, when you decked me, and cut me with your ring, I walked away because, finally, someone did it. It made that night fun, I felt alive. If I was worried about dying all the time, I never would have gone." Vitya nodded, laughing at their similarities. "My father runs the largest pharma and drug development company in Russia. I am untouchable, back home, thanks to him. I called myself the Prince of Poison in middle school. Edgy bullshit," he said with a laugh, his hand now tracing circle's in Monty's nape, twirling the hair around his fingers. His then placed his other hand on Monty's thigh, doing a similar circular pattern. "Then maybe it's time to move on. Because if he makes you feel like that, and you hate that, running after him is fucking stupid. He doesn't want you, and you don't like how he made you feel, so what's the point?"

MONTY

“Then why the fuck are ya at college then? Ya plan on dyin’ so why do ya want a degree huh?” Monty snapped back, “sounds like ya plannin’ a future.” He raised an eye brow in an accusatory fashion. “I’d still have beat the shit outta ya even if I knew then ya dying, nobody gets near Nikko and I ain’t apologizing for that.” Monty shrugged, he wasn’t ashamed of loving his brother and wanting to protect him. “Prince of poison.” Monty barked out a laugh shaking his head. “Thought you were hot shit, huh?” He rolled his eyes. “Spent my time yellin’ at anyone who called me Montgomery, eventually they learned an’ just called me Prescott. Fuckin’ teachers spent all their time yellin’ at me anyway doubt they cared what ma first name was. Two older brothers went through the school before me, they saw a Prescott on their ledger an’ knew exactly what they were in for.” He snorted, remembering homeroom teachers giving him talkings to at the beginning of the year expressing their ‘sincere hope’ he wouldn’t be like his brothers. “Not so easy to get that fuck head outta my mind no matter how much I fuckin wish I could. Wanna forget it all.” He whispered, staring down at Vitya’s hand on his thigh. Vityas touch was beginning to make Monty hot again, heat pooling in his stomach and groin, especially once the hand was on his thigh. Monty leaned in and kissed at Vitya’s neck, just below his ear, nipping and sucking, “tell me us fucking doesn’t make ya feel alive. Tell me ya don’t feel like ya world is gunna implode if ya don’t cum. Tell me ya don’t hold me like ya might die if ya don’t when ya finally cum from my cock poundin’ ya ass.” He whispered, lips grazing the shell of Vitya’s ear as he spoke.

VITYA

Vitya's voice caught in his throat, freezing a second. He really had no reply to that. For all his spouting about not caring about his end, Monty saw right through it and asked him the one question he coudn't answer. He just shook his head, and shrugged. "Was bored," he said quickly, knowing that wasn't enough of an answer, but hoping it would slide by as if it was. Vitya laughed with Monty, smiling and biting his lip in embarrassment. "Oh yeah, I really thought I was. It was kiddy nonsense," Vitya mumbled, his smile sticking in place as Monty recounted his formative years. Little things, like homeroom teachers, stick with the strangest people, and Monty was no different. "Did you surpass your brother's before you? I would, I'd see it as a challenge. I'm the youngest, so it would be my mission to out-do my siblings." Vitya admitted with a mischievous look in his eye. "If you forgot, you'd just do it again. Best to remember, so then you know you'll never do it again," Vitya stated back, speaking a low enough tone, as if the walls could hear. And, in a split second, the air went from a freeing open space, to clenching his chest, when Monty looked down to where his hand rested. Vitya, satisfied with all the answers Monty gave, let the man have his way with his neck, angling his head just so to give him all the freedom he needed. He let out a breathy, distracted chuckle, the hand that was calmly dancing in Monty's hair now gripping a bit tighter. "If I did, I'd be lying," Vitya whispered back, uncrossing his legs. With a seductive slowness, practiced and natural, Vitya slid one leg over Monty's legs, slotting himself in Monty's lap. He took Monty's hands and placed then on his waist, where his shirt was hiked up just enough so skin touched skin. "Don't be gentle."

MONTY

"Sure bored, not thinkin' about the future at all." Monty snorted, the disbelief clear in his tone but he could read Vitya like a book the way he stumbled over the words. This would be a conversation for another day, not that he really understood why he wanted to press the issue. Monty rolled his eyes, laughing easily, feeling relaxed. "Tough guy, huh? If ya didn't look like I could break ya in two right now I'd put ya tough guy act to the test." He taunted like a school kid on the playground. "KT and Thatch are morons, not exactly hard to out do 'em. Teachers never believed me when I said I didn't cheat on exams, they always made me take 'em away from other kids with some fuckin' supervisor." He laughed remembering the first time he got 100% on a physics exam and had been accused. It had felt awful and wonderful at the same time. "Of course you wanted to make more trouble than your siblin's, you're a sucker for a bad rep aren't ya?" He chuckled, enjoying this easy banter. "Wanna forget him, all the shit I liked about him, but I'll never forget that horrible feelin' that makes my skin crawl, I'll never let myself see all that good shit in anyone again cause it ain't worth it." Monty shook his head with a deep sigh.

A hum of satisfaction escaped Monty as Vitya presented his neck, allowing Monty to have his way with him was the control he needed right now after losing his reigns on his feelings for Schuyler. Monty moaned at the tug on his hair, another flash of heat shooting through his body. "So ya don't need me to hit ya ta make ya feel alive. Don't need ta be playin' with death. Just need my cock in ya ass." He continued, biting on Vitya's lip. It wasn't a gentle nibble it was sharp aiming to cause a quick sting of pain. Monty ran his hands down the younger man's body to his ass, squeezing his butt, enjoying the feel of the muscles under his hands before forcefully pulling Vitya down so their crotches rubbed together. The pressure on his dick made Monty moan but it wasn't enough and something tripped a switch inside him so he was thinking entirely with his cock. He grabbed at Vitya's sweatpants and tore them away so he could finally get his hands on that firm, smooth bubble butt.

VITYA

Vitya laughed along with Monty. "Yeah, you probably could. I'm not the most robust guy," he said, softly. It was interesting to hear more about Monty's life growing up. It sounded individual, singular proving more and more that he was not like other people. Vitya could see that 'shitty school life' was something they shared. The only contrast was Vitya being an absolute demon at his school on purpose. "I am, the worst the rep is, the more people gossip. And I do love gossip. It's politics for the powerless." Vitya, in the hope that he could say one final thing to truly get to Monty's core on his inner drama, tucked some hair behind his ear. "Then fuck him, and the high horse he rode in on." "In the end, Death fucks us all," he whispered quickly, knowing that after this, there was going to be less and less talking. Vitya gasped at Monty biting his lip, his eyes rolling a moment before he made it an actual kiss. He slid his tongue into Monty's mouth, giving him no option but to let him in. He moaned in delight as Monty touched him, taking hold of his waist and pulling him down. Vitya's eyes went wide when he felt, and heard the sound of tearing, looking back and seeing what Monty did. "Oh, I am going to make you regret that-" he said, swiftly tearing open Monty's dress shirt. His hands overtook the new open space, his hips sliding forward to grinding against him, then back into his hands again. Vitya leaned in and kissed Monty again, giving him some payback for biting his lip by doing the same. Vitya's hands went at Monty's belt, doing what we promised earlier and starting the process of getting him out of his clothes, of which there were way too many. He had done this too any times, able to get his belt out of the loops in one swift tug, palming Monty through his jeans before starting on the button. "Fuck, how are you this hard already?"

MONTY

"I bet ya a scrappy little fucker when ya not right outta the hospital though." Monty chuckled, lightly punching at Vitya in a playful manner just to tease. It was rather odd talking about his childhood, especially school, but it was kinda nice, and he did always enjoy showing off how intelligent he was. "Always been in trouble? Makes sense, hell in high heals an' all that shit. But ya ain't exactly powerless though are ya? Bein' a Prince an' all." Monty retorted, rolling his eye again for effect before breaking down and laughing again. Monty nodded, feeling a sense of closure on todays Schuyler chapter. No doubt the pain would come again, it was like the tide in that sense, the way it came and went; but now the tide was out, his feelings were being forgotten in favour of losing himself in Vitya. "It fucks us all in the end but who said we can't go out fightin'" Monty murmured against Vitya's lips. A groan rumbled in Monty's chest feeling the force of the kiss and the demands of Vitya's tongue against his. Sometimes he needed to take control for himself, and sometimes he needed to give it over and somehow Vitya was able to give him both. Vitya's moans caused Monty to buck his hips up and increase the friction between them. Monty tried to laugh as Vitya ripped open his shirt, sending the buttons flying but it came out more like a whine, he couldn't deny how hot it was that even in his state Vitya could still do this. Mont kept his hands on his ass, working with him as he moved his hips, letting his hands roam the now exposed flesh. He grabbed the cheeks and pulled them, letting his finger tips graze his hole. A shiver ran through him at the efficiency of Vitya undoing his belt and jeans, it was speed that only came with practice and it served as a reminder of all the times they'd done this before and how good it was. "Fuck." Monty swore under his breath as the feel of Vitya's hand. "Ya got me this hard ya fuckin' dick." he groaned, as his head fell back.

VITYA

Vitya was anything but distracted. He was laser sharp was Monty's hand groped at his ass, eventually propping as his hole, making him shiver. He bit his lip and smiled as Monty lost himself to such a simple thing as a grope through his jeans. He pushed back into his hands hoping to wake the other man up a bit. Vitya carefully undid Monty's jeans, and with seasoned hands, slid his cock free from their confines. Vitya gave a fake, innocent look. "Oh, did I?" He teased, sliding his hand up and down Monty's shaft at a delicate, slow pace. He leaned into Monty's ear, nipping the lobe a moment. "So sorry about that..." "Come on, be a good boy and open me up. Want you inside me," Vitya whispered, licked down to Monty's neck, where he promptly kissed and sucked a deep, purple hickey into existence. He even bit, just for a moment, to make sure it stuck. He began to twist his wrist as his hand slid up and down Monty's shaft, encouraging him to keep going. "Are you going to pound me into the floor, or am I gonna ride you till you whimper? Decisions, decisions..." Vitya teased even more, his free hand now joining in on his jerking of Monty's cock.

*fade to black*

Parenting 101 For Rockstar Dads

CH. 3- The One Where Everything Is Not Okay Pt 1

Warnings: medical malpractice, child birth, loss of blood, and death

Nessa’s pregnancy wore on throughout the fall and into the winter and spring. Jared and Nessa were having a girl and they had settled on the name Kaela, Kaela Dominique Leto; a lot had changed from the time of the pregnancy announcement such as Jared and Nessa turning the second bedroom of their apartment they used for storage into a nursery, Jared’s older brother Shannon crashing on their couch and Nessa being officially on maternity leave from school and work. She hated it, and with Jared and Shannon at work, she was absolutely bored. With summer in full swing, it was way too hot to do anything, and Nessa had very little energy. Her days consisted (sometimes) making breakfast for herself, Jared and Shannon, watching soap operas as she painted or knitted, fetching the mail, and concluding the day with a treat from the ice cream truck.

Jackie would come by after work or practice to keep her company until the guys came home. One Monday evening, she had stopped by after dance practice while Jared and Shannon were out at the laundromat. “Oh Nessa, I swear on everything I love, I’ll beat the fuck out of Lisa Russell! She gettin’ on my last damn nerve,” Jackie vented. When Nessa announced her pregnancy to the SUSLA dance team, her backup, Lisa had taken her place. It should’ve been a surprise that Lisa had even made the team in the first place, seeing as she couldn’t dance for shit, but she had rich parents, so it wasn’t really.

“The other girls are threatening to quit the team until you come back.” Nessa listened as her best friend cursed Lisa to the high heaven, never once losing steam until Shannon walked in carrying his laundry basket. The two of them were definitely checking each other out, until Jared bumped into him. “Dude, you gotta move. These mosquitos are eating me alive.” Ever since Shannon moved in, Jackie always hung around longer than necessary, and they were getting especially close.

Nessa liked the idea of Kaela’s godmother and uncle growing closer, but Jackie has a boyfriend who is absolutely wonderful, and for that reason, she only hoped that they were only getting to know each other because of the baby. Shannon plopped down in between them and threw an arm around Jackie’s side of the couch. “That’s cool, it’s not like I’m carrying your niece or anything.” They completely ignored her as they launched into their conversation; no matter how many times Jared and Nessa tried to include themselves in the conversation, Shannon and Jackie always managed to drift back to their own world. Jackie ended up staying for dinner, and the only time she and Shannon stopped talking was when either of them took a bite of their pizza.

“So Jackie, how’s Will doin’?” Nessa asked; she briefly wondered if her friend forgot that she even had a boyfriend. “Oh! Uh... he’s okay. Just really busy with summer practices so I haven’t been seeing him much lately.” Nessa saw the disappointed look on Shannon’s face but he still asked, “who’s Will?” “Just a guy she’s been seeing for a while.” He didn’t say anything after that, and the rest of dinner was quiet and a bit awkward. 

Jackie let at almost eight o’clock, saying she had to get up early, which was a lie, and even after she left Shannon was still quiet. “Shan, are you okay?” Jared asked his brother carefully. “What? Yeah, I’ll be fine, I’m just tired. I just want to go to bed. Had a long day.” Nessa and Jared went in the back to their bedroom and got ready for bed. “See Jared! I told you he has a thing for her! And she definitely likes him too!”

“Nessa baby, we’ve been through this. Shan and Jackie are going to be Kaela’s godparents. Of course they’re getting close.” Nessa only rolled her eyes as she put her hair up and put on her bonnet. “You saw how upset he was when I brought up Will.” She wasn’t even sure if Jackie even liked Will the way he liked her as she always seemed annoyed by him. “Let’s just go to sleep. You have your last doctor’s appointment before Kaela comes, first thing in the morning.”

Nessa still couldn’t believe that she was going to be a mom, that she was going to bring a child into the world with the love of her life; absolutely mind boggling. Everything was ready for her, the crib assembled and filled with stuffed animals and other things she might need, and a closet filled with pink outfits. She went into labor on July 13th, at 5:30 am which threw Jared and Shannon into a frenzy. They were both running around like chickens with their heads cut off as they made last minute plans; Shannon grabbing the hospital bag and putting in more things that might be needed and starting the car while Jared called everyone he knew. Turns out that Kaela was a very impatient baby, and by the time they made it to the hospital, Nessa was just about ready to push.

Finally, at 7:30 a.m. Kaela Dominique Leto made her grand entrance, weighing in at four pounds even. She had brown skin, a head of dark curls and the biggest brown eyes Jared had ever seen, and for the second time in his life, he fell in love. The placenta was delivered soon after, and that’s when everything went to hell. Nessa’s regular doctor was out of town due to a family emergency, so her replacement was a balding white man in fifties who brushed off Nessa’s concerns about bleeding after delivering the placenta. “Don’t worry Miss Arceneaux, the bleeding will stop soon.” The doctor had the nurses put some gauze to stop the blood flow but Nessa was losing her color and energy, fast. Jared was getting pissed; clearly there was something wrong with his girlfriend. Why wasn’t the doctor taking this seriously?

“Dr. Archibald, there is something wrong with her! Do something!” By this time Constance and Jackie had made it to the room, only to see Shannon holding Jared back as he was yelling at the doctor with Nessa running a finger over Kaela’s soft cheek; neither women had ever seen Nessa look like this. Of course it was normal to not look your best after giving birth, but it looked like someone had dimmed the lights from within. Nessa gave them a weak smile and they slowly walked over to her. Shannon had escorted Jared and Dr. Archibald into the hall, closing the door so the women wouldn’t have to hear it.

“Nessa, she’s absolutely beautiful,” Constance whispered. She couldn’t believe that she was a grandmother, but here she was, holding her new granddaughter Kaela. Surely this had to be a dream; she and Jackie took turns holding the baby, and it was a while before Shannon and Jared came back. They had plastic bags of food and they sat them down on the rolling table. “Nessa baby, you need to eat something, get your strength back up,” Jared told her.

Eating seemed to do something good for her, and her blood pressure seemed to return to normal after drinking a few ounces of orange juice. Nessa’s family came later in the day to fawn over the baby while Jared went to see about a birth certificate; when he came back, his eyes were red, he looked tired and a piece of paper in his hand. Jared looked over and saw his daughter in one of those makeshift cribs, sleeping peacefully. “Jay, why are you crying? Everything is fine. I’m okay,” Nessa assured him. He wiped the remaining tears away with the back of his hand and began kissing her face. 

“I thought I almost lost you Nessa. It was horrible.” Jared was shaken to his core, and the thought of losing the love of his life scared the shit out of him; he wanted to live out the rest of his life with her. Which reminded him... he still had the ring in his pocket, a ring he’s had for months. Of course the two had never talked about marriage, Jared had been too chicken to bring it up, but now that their daughter was here, now was a perfect time. “You’re not gonna lose me Jay.”

Jared felt like crying again, but his eyes were sore and he didn’t know if he could produce more tears; he felt like he’d done enough crying to last him twenty years. “Nessa, it was bad, and that doctor, I wanted to fucking punch him.” He could feel his throat close up again, and he focused on Shannon holding Kaela, with Jackie begging for a turn again. “It’s my turn Shannon. You’ve had her for ten minutes already.” Constance, Jared and Nessa had to step in to get the two to stop bickering.

“Come on you two, knock it off! She’s only three hours old and these are not the first sounds she should be hearing!” Constance’s tone was enough to make Shannon be quiet after Jackie called him a name. “Shan, Jackie’s right, you’ve had your turn. Give the baby to her.” He settled his niece in Jackie’s arms who had the biggest smile on her face. A few hours later, everyone had to go back to work, except for Jared who had some time off, so now he and Nessa finally had time to themselves to admire their daughter alone. 

The new parents couldn’t believe that their baby was real, they were actually looking at her, and yet it still felt like they could wake up at any moment. Kaela was, without a doubt the most perfect baby in the world; as Jared watched over his sleeping daughter, he felt a flash of anger. Here he is, holding this miracle he helped create, the thought of leaving her behind too painful to even fathom, and yet Tony Bryant had no problem leaving his two boys behind. He looked over at Nessa, who was staring at him holding Kaela. She looked tired, tired but happy, and Jared knew that now was the perfect time to ask her to spend the res of her life with him.

“Nessa, I love you so much, I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I won’t question it.” He sat Kaela back down in her cradle thing so he could get the ring from his pocket, and when Nessa realized what he was doing, she gasped. “Jared, are you doing what I think you’re doing?” Jared didn’t answer her, instead getting down on one knee at the side of her bed. “Vanessa Dominique Arceneaux, will you marry me?” 

Nessa had a smile on her face, the kind of smile that reached the eyes. “Of course I’ll marry you! I love you so much!” Jared slipped the ring on her finger, and they kissed as Kaela made some noises in her cradle. “Yes, pretty girl, your momma and daddy are getting married,” Jared cooed at the newborn. Jared didn’t expect that their celebration would abruptly end.

Nessa died two days later in her sleep sometime in the early morning. Jared was awoken by the heart monitor flatlining, thinking it was his alarm clock back home before he remembered where he was. It was dark in the room, the curtains drawn and the only light in the room was the monitor and the little sliver of golden light under the door coming from hall. Jared leaped from the couch and into the hallway. “Nurse, nurse! I need a nurse!” The monitor had to be wrong, she was only sleeping...

Doctors and nurses began to rush into the room and Jared was quickly jostled about as they tried to get to her; it took two security guards and a male nurse to calm him down, to assure him that they were doing everything they could to revive her. He was dragged into the waiting area kicking and screaming and crying. He tried to take his mind off what was happening by pacing the floor, listening to the early morning news, but none of that was helping. It was another fifteen minutes before a nurse came into the waiting area to tell him the news, but she didn’t need to, he could see it on her face.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Leto. We tried everything we could. There was one time where we tried the paddles and it worked, but only for a second.” Jared could feel the hot tears streaming down his face and he dropped back into a chair, bending over and grabbing his head, then rocking back and forth. He knew that he should go back in and say goodbye to Nessa but he couldn’t, it would be too real, but his feet moved on their own accord. There she was, his new fiancée lying on her back, eyes closed as if she was sleeping peacefully. Jared grabbed the hand he put the ring on, squeezing it and he just cried.

taglist: @llfd1977 @blackreaders-assemble @itsmeauntie

     ok its ya girl back at it, same deal ! if u wanna plot just HMU or LIKE THIS and i’ll come to you ! wes is my father & u can peep his pinterest board HERE !

     ⌈ chris pine, cismale, he/him ⌋ hey, is it WESLEY BIGELOW that you’re looking for? you know, the THIRTY-SIX year old CARPENTER. typically i see them hanging around GRISTOL DOCKS so you could try there! i hear they’ve been in living in PRINCETOWN for THIRTY-SIX YEARS. gristol wouldn’t be the same without them, right? anyway, whenever i see them they make me think of waking up before dawn, an old rowboat sitting in still water & a kitchen full of fresh produce.

tw: car accident & illness 

this mans has lived in town his entire life!!! his parents, william and rose bigelow owned a historic farm . willy & rose were high school sweethearts, a shotgun wedding joining them together after rose ended up pregnant with their first child at the age of 19. while rose’s parents were furious with their daughter for being so reckless, william’s father was more than happy to offer them a place to stay and lend a hand taking care of the baby that would soon be on the way.

despite the circumstances, wes was never treated as an accident or a mistake. he grew up in his grandpa’s farmhouse with a loving family. the bigelow family followed some pretty traditional gender roles. wes’ dad and his grandpa would wake at the crack of dawn and work out in the field until sunset while his mother hung around the house to take care of him, doing laundry, making dinner, taking him to the park, everything.

from a young age he was encouraged to help out on the farm but being the mama’s boy he was, he was far more eager to help his mom out with the cooking and the laundry. he was close with his grandfather as well, the two always working on little projects together like building a tree house, birdhouses, his own bee house………………….a lot of houses

but wes was never rly close with his father. william wasn’t much of an emotional or talkative guy, usually just sitting there in stern silence and working the day away. a bit of a scary guy despite not ever doing anything scary?? he’s just an ominous guy that doesn’t rly seem impressed by anything so wes never rly knew where he stood u know.

the one time wes ever really felt close to his father was when they would take little weekend fishing trips together, even though they didn’t really speak. just the fact that william took his time to teach wes how to do everything and didn’t get mad or frustrated when he lost a lure or let a fish go by accident was enough to like…..send the message. that was his way of showing his love u know.

the second bigelow child was welcomed when wes was a kid and while at first he was jealous that his new baby sister was getting all the attention, having a baby around the house was kind of fun. she’d make funny faces and funny noises and he grew to love her pretty quickly. he used to always say that his baby sister was the best thing that happened to him. when she got older, he taught her how to make mud pies and how to play pranks on grandpa who was a rly good sport, all things considered.

car accident & death tw !! the winter of ‘94 would prove to be the worst winter of wes’ entire life. on the way back home to pick up a christmas tree from a nearby farm, the family’s old pick up hit a patch of black ice and ended up flipped into a ditch. it was a bad wreck. luckily his grandpa and sister were safe at home during the time of the crash, but wes and his parents weren’t so lucky, his mother being the unluckiest of the bunch. they were stranded in the middle of the road for two hours before anyone showed up for help and by the time they arrived, it was too late for rose, who got the worst of the injuries. doa at the hospital while wes and his dad walked away with mostly minor injuries. that year, there was no christmas tree and no presents. christmas dinner was replaced with takeout and no one said a word.

illness & death tw !! not long after rose passed away, grandpa bigelow got some bad news. lung cancer that no one really saw coming. just a few months after the diagnosis they were having another funeral for another member of the bigelow clan.

it was a tough year, but they got through it. wes did his job to step up and do all the things his dad couldn’t do; all the things his mother taught him. he expected all of it to make his dad more closed off but it had the reverse effect and for the first time in his entire life, wes and his father had heart to heart conversations.

jump forward to high school and things finally felt like they were back to normal. william wasn’t dating yet but he wasn’t being all that anti-social, either.

wes discovered quickly he was the kind of person that other people liked and he was quite popular??? he made good grades, played football, dating the coolest girl in school (in his own opinion ofc), everything kind of fell into place for him in high school

and then after high school he…………didn’t rly know what to do asdj;fdksgfkdlj he never went to college and decided work around town doing odd jobs and saving some money so he could go off and travel and live his life as a young person craving adventure.

he was gone for abt a year or so before coming back home & he’s just been here ever since, doin his thing

started working with a family friend in his shop, doing what he loved and building things n working with his hands u know and hasn’t stopped doing what he loves ever since

he owns his own shop now & builds custom furniture 

the….personality section has Arrived

he’s quite the Charming guy but he talks WAY too much

definitely the kind of guy who will just…..talk about himself non-stop without even realizing it ?? he needs to get his Ego in check even after all these years smh

buT he’s very good at making conversation and is rly a friendly guy!!!! will talk and joke with anyone just because……why not ?? it makes his day when ppl talk to him so he will talk to u even if u dont feel the same way

highkey the kind of person to start up a random conversation w a stranger in the grocery story just because

lowkey uncomfortable with feelings and still isn’t super great at expressing emotions and his thoughts but ya boi is trying his best

but he’s rly good at picking up on signals. he can’t express his own emotions but he’s like….pretty in tune with other ppl

a very platonically affectionate guy. loves hugging his buddies and telling them how much he loves & appreciates them

and now for the lil extra tidbits

he’s got two dogs. a german shepherd named mulder & a pomeranian named scully sfddgfhgfg and he strategically uses his dogs to flirt w ladies when they’re out on a walk LMAO

he’s got a 6 year old daughter named aspen with a woman he is no longer dating ( im prob gna put this as a wc on the main so if u want this....hmu???? ) but they are still v close and spend a lot of time together & he loves aspen more than anything :’)

he’s very much a Dad. dad jokes all the time. endless shitty puns for everyonE

the man loves a turtleneck. he can’t keep his hands off a good ass sweater u know ??

he loves to cook and is v good at it, since he’s been cooking his entire life. he is the self-proclaimed kind of bbq and honestly???? he’s always throwing lil bbq parties & they are a hit :/  u know he be winning contests w his grilling bro

obviously.........a handyman. the house he lives in now, he built himself after tearing down the old on.  he built himself a nice big deck and everything so he can have a nice place to host bbqs and everyone will come compliment him on hard work and enjoy his fantastic recipes

he runs his own business building & selling furniture!!!! need a shelf installed??? give him a call. dog chewed up ur table leg??? give him a call. house burned down???? give him a call he’ll build u a new one.

what’s better than this ??????????? guys bein dudes

he rly likes going to the movies. lowkey loves disney but pretends he only cares bc his daughter likes it but……….u know he knows the words to every song

tragically heterosexual ://///////

he loves strong coffee & he loves beer & occasionally he loves a good book & a nice game of chess

did i mention he is such a dad bc………..he is such a dad

someone hold his rough sandpaper ass hands