#he's felt like too much of a jovial dumbass as of late when that never really felt like who he was before

[hopelikethemoon]

a night out (Javier x Reader) [smut]

Title: a night out  Rating: explicit  Warnings: mild angst, smut (oral sex f receiving, non-explicit sex), fluff, Daddy!Javi Summary: A year later, Reader and Javier go out to dinner with the Murphys and their friends.  Notes: Set in 1994. Part six of maybe today, maybe forever. If you don’t like this, don’t let me know. I didn’t really feel that secure with this little ficlet, but I’m posting it anyways. 

“So how did you guys meet?” Tracy asked as she held onto the straw in her fruity cocktail and sucked at it, looking between you and Javier. To her left, her husband Jeff was wedged into the booth beside her, peering over his thick-rimmed glasses. 

They were friends with Steve and Connie — mostly Connie, since Tracy and her worked the same shifts at the hospital. But so far Steve and Connie were running late for dinner, which meant painfully tense conversation with a couple that were a little too “Florida” for you and Javi. 

“Work.” Javier answered shortly, lifting his bottle of beer and taking a sip. You glanced at him, smirking when you saw the way his eyes were scanning the front of the restaurant — glorified Tiki Bar — for any signs of the Murphys. 

 Jeff snapped his fingers, “That’s right you worked with Steve in Columbia.” He turned to his wife, “Sweetie, Javier and Steve took down Pablo Escobar.” The way he said ‘Javier’ was really starting to grate on your nerves. 

Javier’s beer bottle clinked against the top of the table with a little more effort, brows furrowed. “It wasn’t just Steve and me—”

“I was there too.” You asserted, giving Javier’s thigh a squeeze beneath the table. “I think we’re both glad to be out though.”

Javier nodded, reaching beneath the table to give your hand a squeeze. “It feels good to be back in the states.”

You curled your fingers around your beer bottle and took a swig, rolling your wrist to slosh the beer around inside the bottle. “I think Florida’s heat could almost rival Bogotá.” 

Javi nodded, glancing towards the door again. “So what do you do, Jeff?”

Jeff sat up straighter, adjusting his glasses. “I work at NASA. Been there for about a decade now. It’s an absolute honor.” 

“Cool shit,” Javi hummed. “We took Josie to watch the Columbia launch back in March. I’ve never been bitten by so many goddamn mosqu-“ He shifted, leaning out of the booth to wave at Steve as he and Connie entered the bar.

Finally. 

The six of you settled into the round booth, ordering another round of drinks and — at Jeff’s insisting — a basket of gator bites for the table. 

“So what did you do at the DEA?” Jeff questioned you, wagging a finger in your direction. “Secretary? Typist?”

Connie leaned close to you and whispered, “Sexist.” She masked it well, coughing politely. 

“I worked with Javi and Steve.” You corrected, “Field agent.”

“Oh wow!” Tracy gawked. “That must’ve been so dangerous.”

“I got shot twice.” You said flatly, leaning into Javi as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “I lived it though.”

Steve took a drink of his beer before he added, “She was a damn good agent. Kept us in line, well mostly kept Javi in line. I never got into trouble.”

You rolled your eyes, “That’s because you’re not a dumbass like Javier.”

“Baby.” Javier drawled out with a laugh, squeezing your shoulder. 

“How old is your daughter?” Tracy questioned. 

“She turned one last month.” Javier answered, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. Inside he had a whole fold out plastic sleeve of pictures of her. “That one,” He pointed at the most recent photo. “My pops came over from Texas to celebrate.” It was a picture of the two men holding her hands as they helped her up over a curb. “Never did crawl, rolled right over and started running.”

“That’s because every chance you got, you were trying to teach her how to walk.” You nudged him the ribs. “She’s got him wrapped around her finger.” 

“Wasn’t her first word daddy?” Steve questioned. 

“How could it be anything else?” You laughed, pressing a kiss to Javi’s cheek. “She’s your biggest fan.”

Steve gestured at you with his beer bottle, “Have you decided if we get to be her godparents? Seeing as I’m basically the reason she even exists.”

“Fuck off, Murphy.” Javi quipped as he took a drink. 

“Steve.” Connie chastised. 

“What? It’s the truth.” He shrugged. 

“This sounds like a story.” Jeff said with a jovial laugh. 

Javi flipped Steve off, “It’s not much of a story.” He ran his hand over your back, flashing you a charming grin. “Steve leaving was the kick in the ass I needed to realize how I felt.” 

“Oh, is that the story you’re sticking with?” Steve teased and you quickly interrupted before Javi had the chance to ring his neck. 

“These gator bites were better than I expected,” You remarked, gesturing to the half-eaten basket of food. “They taste like chicken.” 

Javi squeezed your shoulder. “The sauce was good.” He finished off his beer and sat it down, looking around for the waitress. She was very attentive every time Javier called her to the table, which you weren’t the least bit surprised by. 

“So,” Jeff started, trying to keep the conversation alive while the table waited for the entrees. “What are you doing now that you’re out of the DEA?”

“I’ve been working at the local PD off and on.” You answered with a shrug, popping another gator bite into your mouth, wiping your fingers off on the napkin your beer had been sat on. “Consulting, mostly. There’s a pretty big drug scene in Miami, so I’m lending my knowledge.” 

Javier’s hand found yours beneath the table, his fingers curling around yours. He took another swig of beer before answering, “I’m in talks with the DEA. They’ve got an office down the road from our condos, but I haven’t made my mind up.” 

Steve clicked his tongue against his teeth, “I’m sure they’re ready to welcome you back with open arms.” 

He clenched his jaw, which prompted you to squeeze his hand under the table. “I’m sure they’re chomping at the bit.” 

The conversation didn’t make it much further than that, with the waitress bringing the food over. 

“And I brought you some more of the sriracha sauce,” The waitress told Javi with a grin and a too-obvious flutter of her lashes. “I heard you say that you liked it.” 

Javier seemed absolutely oblivious, however. “Uh, thanks.” He looked at the little container of sauce, giving you a sideways look. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this? Put it on my burger?” He questioned you.

You couldn’t help but laugh, nudging him in the ribs. “She was flirting with you.” You plucked the sauce off his plate, sitting in your basket of fried shrimp. “But I can use it.” 

His brows furrowed together as he looked at you, head cocked to the side. “That would explain the prompt service.” 

“The only reason I got a refill was because you waved her down,” Connie remarked with a laugh. 

“I’ve got to say it,” Steve started, shoving a fry into his mouth before using another to gesture between you and Javier. “I didn’t think I’d live to see the day that Javier wouldn’t catch on that some chick was hitting on him.” 

Javier flipped Steve off as he bit into his burger. 

Jeff cleared his throat, “So what was Columbia like? We considered going there for our honeymoon, but went to Paris instead.” 

Your brows shot upwards and you tried hard to resist the urge to laugh. That, right there, summed up the two WASPS that the Murphys had invited to dinner. There was no chance in hell that they’d considered Columbia for their honeymoon.

Steve shoved another fry into his mouth, “Hot as shit.” 

You nodded in agreement, “Almost as hot as Florida. Not quite as sticky.” 

“We had fun though, didn’t we Javi?” Steve peered around you and Connie to look at Javi. “Looking forward to getting back at it.”

“Yeah.” Javier seemed tense beside you and you arched a curious brow at him. He’d only finished half of his burger and didn’t seem particularly keen to finish it. 

“You good?” You whispered, giving his knee a squeeze beneath the table.

He gave a short nod of his head, sighing heavily. “Anyone got a light?” 

Jeff, of course, produced one — passing it across the table. Javier snatched it from him and slid out of the booth promptly. 

“I thought he stopp—” Connie started.

“He did.” You slid out after him. In fact, you knew he didn’t even have a cigarette on him.

“Gotta make sure that waitress doesn’t follow after him. Right?” Jeff remarked to the table and only Tracy laughed as you left. 

You followed Javier out the backdoor of the bar to a patio area that was used for shitty outdoor seating during the summer. They’d gone a little heavy-handed with the tiki theme, but that was over half of the bars in Florida. 

“Don’t worry,” Javier remarked as he turned around to face you, hands on his hips. “I’m not smoking. I just needed some goddamn air.” 

“Columbia?” You questioned, folding your arms across your chest as you approached him.

“I fucking hate talking about it.” He flexed his jaw, staring down at the ground.  

“I know.” You stopped in front of him, reaching up to brush your fingers over his jaw. “Steve means well.”

Javier sighed, turning his face so he could kiss your palm. “Yeah, he does. I don’t know how to tell him that I don’t want back in.”

“You just tell him that.”

“It’s not that easy, baby.” He reached out and rested a hand on your waist, squeezing gently. “I know he wants us to be partners again. Just like old times.” Javi shook his head. “So much shit happened in Columbia that I’m not proud of.”

You nodded your head understandingly. “You’re going to have to tell him.”

“I know.” Javier dragged his fingers through his hair, shaking his head slowly. “Shit.” 

“It doesn’t have to be a hard no.” You suggested gently. “Maybe in a couple of months you’ll decide you do want back in.” You traced your fingertips along his jaw, scratching lightly at the scruff that had started to grow in there. “He knows how much you enjoy staying home with Josie.” 

“I’m in a good place, you know?” Javier questioned you, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he glanced away. “The DEA expects so much out of a person.” He let out an incredulous chuckle. “Went down there for that meeting and they were going on and on about my record. How I’d do anything for the case down there.” He looked back at you then. “I’ve got you and Josie to worry about now. I don’t want to sell my soul just to bag another drug lord.” 

You reached out and took his hand into yours as you stepped closer to him. “It’s a shame the sitter just paged us.” You suggested with a faint smirk on your lips. 

Javier glanced down at the pager on his hip before his eyes slowly lifted to meet yours again, a brow arching upwards curiously. “We’ve still got to pay Melissa if we go back early.” 

“I didn’t say we were going home.” 

He brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, grinning down at you. “Goddamn, I love you.” 

You leaned up and kissed him, your fingers curling around the back of his neck as you let it linger longer than necessary. 

“Everything alright out here?”

It was the waitress. Of course it was the waitress. 

“We’re good,” You answered, looping your arm around Javier’s waist. 

“Smoke break.” Javier added, flicking the zippo on for show. “Ready to go back in?” He glanced down at you.

“Yep.” You kept his hand in yours as you made your way back to the table. Steve looked a little paler than he had when you left, giving you and Javi a wary look like maybe Connie had told him off for pushing at the DEA thing. You’d already mentioned to Connie that you didn’t think Javier was ready to get back into the DEA — which you had hoped she’d relay back to Steve in that way wives (or partners) did to get the point across. 

“Unfortunately,” Javier started as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “Melissa’s having a hell of a time putting Miss Josie back to sleep after a nightmare.”

“Oh no!” Tracy said — like she actually cared. “That’s so terrible.” 

“So, we’re going to head out.” You explained as Javier threw down money to cover your meals and the tip. 

“Don’t forget your share of the gator bites.” Jeff reminded Javier and he glowered as he tossed another couple bucks down on the table.

Connie slid out of the booth and hugged you goodbye. “Are we good?”

You nodded as you pulled back. “It’ll be fine.” 

She let out a breath of relief. “Thank God.” 

“You know, Javi.” You shrugged. 

Jeff dug around in his wallet for a business card, passing it to Javi with an offer to hang out and play golf someday soon. The business card ended up in the first trashcan you passed on the way back to the car. 

“How the hell do the Murphys put up with them?” He lamented as he settled into the driver’s seat, shutting off the music just as some country singer started to croon. 

You laughed, “I have no idea. Maybe Tracy’s cooler away from her husband.” 

“Are you cooler away from me?” He questioned, one hand on the steering wheel on the other on your thigh. It still annoyed the shit out of you when he traced those little circles against your leg, but you never brought it up. 

You considered the question for a moment, humming thoughtfully. “I don’t know. You’re not a pocket protector, so I don’t think your presence affects my coolness.” 

Javier chuckled, glancing at you as he rolled up to the stop sign. “So, we’ve got about an hour to kill… What’d you have planned?”

Pushing your fingers through your hair, you looked out the window. “Think the ice cream place on the boardwalk is still open?”

Javier glanced at his wristwatch, “If we head over there now I think you’re in luck, baby.” He squeezed your leg and started in that direction. 

“Needless to say,” You started, settling down onto the bench beside Javi, licking a drop of ice cream off your fingers as they curled around your cone. “I think we narrowly dodged a lifetime of Bunko weekends.”

“Bunko and golf.” He dramatically shuddered, nudging your leg with his. “Can you imagine me golfing?” He snorted. 

You made a face, “I’d have to check to see if you were an alien.” 

Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth, before sweeping his tongue over his ice cream. Which you watched, with rapt attention. “Was that waitress really flirting with me?”

You tilted your head back and laughed. “It was obnoxious.” You licked at your ice cream before adding, “After she seated us, her shirt got about four inches lower.” 

“It didn’t even phase me.” He admitted with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Awww,” You said teasingly. “Javi, do you love me?”

“Shut up,” He rolled his eyes and slapped your leg playfully. 

“If you make me drop my ice cream—“

“You’ll what?” He leaned over and licked your ice cream. 

“Son of a bitch!”

Javier chuckled. “Such loving words.”

You started to offer him a bit of turn about, but he got you in the nose with his ice cream instead. “Jackass.” You groused, wiping your nose off. 

He shrugged and laughed. “If the shoe fits.”

“You’re lucky you're handsome.” You said dryly. “Even though everyone makes it obvious.” 

“As long as you think I’m handsome, I think I’m good.” Javier remarked, patting your leg. “This was nice.”

You nodded, “Much better than tiki bar chic.” Your eyes flickered towards his face, lingering on his lips. “I really hope Josie stays asleep when we get home.”

“Me too.” Javier’s fingers danced along your inner thigh through your jeans. He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “We’ve got to get the sitter more often.”

“For more than just nights out with Steve and Connie.” You scooted closer to him, resting your cheek on his shoulder. The sun had dipped below the horizon hours ago, but the constant ebb and flow of the ocean as it met the coast line could be heard through darkness. 

Javier draped his arm over your shoulders, fingers curling around your shoulder and giving it three little squeezes. “Florida’s not so bad.” He remarked, scratching at his jaw as he stared out into the darkness beyond the boardwalk. 

“It feels like home.” You mused. 

“Anywhere with you and Josie feels like home, baby.” He kissed the top of your head. 

 ——

You tiptoed down the hallway from Josie’s nursery, giving Javier a thumbs up as he stood outside of the bedroom. “Out cold, with her thumb still in her mouth.” You whispered, stopping in front of him, you breath a little shaky as you looked up at him.

“Good.” He brushed his fingertips over your forehead, pushing hair back behind your ears. Javier hooked his fingers into your belt loops, pulling you close as he leaned down to catch your lips. 

You curled a hand around the back of his neck, your other hand working at the buttons of his shirt. 

Javi groaned against your lips, walking backwards further into the bedroom. You managed to get the shirt unbuttoned, shoving it down his arms and abandoning it on the floor. 

You nipped lightly on his bottom lip, moving forward until the backs of his legs hit the edge of the bed. 

He reluctantly stopped kissing you, sitting back onto the bed as his eyes raked over you in the dim light of your bedroom, illuminated only by the bedside lamp. 

You peeled off your shirt, tossing it aside as you stood between his legs. 

“You are fucking gorgeous,” Javier drawled out as he leaned in to press a kiss a path down your stomach, his hands smoothing over your sides. He bit at the soft flesh of your stomach, his teeth scraping lightly before his tongue soothed over it. Heat pooled between your thighs and a moan escaped you as he slid one hand up to roughly palm at your breast through your bra. 

Javier pulled you close, dragging down you onto the bed with him and you couldn’t help but giggle as he rolled you over, caging you beneath him. He covered your mouth, shushing you with a wry grin and you stuck your tongue out and licked his palm. You reached down to work at getting his pants off, but he caught your hand and pinned it to the bed above your head. “Javi.” 

“I have plans.” He told you, dipping down to kiss you. “Keep your hands right there.” Javier started kissing down your throat as he unclasped the front of your bra, cupping your breasts.

You drew in a ragged breath as you kept your hands above your head, fingers grabbing at the blanket beneath you as he kept kissing lower and lower. He peeled off your jeans and underwear off — tossing them over the side of the bed. 

His mouth descended upon your slick cunt, his tongue delving between your folds. It killed you to not be able to thread your fingers through his hair as he ate you out. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying not to cry out as he sucked lightly at your clit. The last thing you wanted was to accidentally wake Josie up — not when you were so close. 

“Fuck.” You breathed out, ignoring his request as you reached down to grab at his hair. Your inner walls were already starting to pulse around nothing as he lavished you sensitive little bud with attention. You rolled your hips, desperate for more. He stopped abruptly. 

Javier pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal. “Didn’t I tell you to keep your hands above your head?”

“Javier.” You said sharply, tugging at his hair. “Don’t tease.” 

He dipped down and pressed a kiss to each of your thighs, before he sat back on his knees. You leaned up on your elbows, chewing on your bottom lip as you watched him get off the bed to take off his jeans and boxers. You still had to marvel at the fact that Javier Peña was yours.

If someone had told you five years ago when you started in Columbia that you would end up the mother of Javier Peña’s daughter and become the woman who went to sleep beside him every night… you would have laughed your ass off. The very fact that he now seemed oblivious to the women flirting with him was even more hilarious. You had seen him in action at bars before, you knew exactly how he operated. But now he was all yours and he’d changed — on his own — for the better. Who knew fatherhood was what he’d needed to get his act together. 

Javier kissed his way back up your body, hands gripping at your hips as he settled between your thighs. Your back arched as he slid into you — clenching around his cock. He grunted out something that sounded like your name, his face pressed into the crook of your neck. “So good, baby.”

You wrapped one leg around him, rolling your hips to urge him on. There was no real urgency in the way you moved or the languid way he thrust into you. It was the perfect way to close out the day. 

—— 

Javier was already out of bed by the time you woke up — later than you usually did, but you were thankful for the few extra minutes of sleep. You grabbed your housecoat off the back of the door, heading into the kitchen to find him.

He was at the stove flipping pancakes as he hummed along to Fields of Gold as it played over the radio above the sink. Josie was contentedly sitting in her high chair, playing with the small pancake he’d already made for her, pretending to flip it with her plastic spatula. Always trying to be like daddy.

“Morning.” You said warmly as you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against the flat of his shoulder.

He squeezed your hand, “Morning, baby.” Javier turned in your arms, wrapping his own around you. “You sleep well?”

You nodded and grinned. “Did you?”

“Like a rock.” He kissed your forehead before turning his attention back to the pancakes. “Hungry?”

“Starving.” You answered, going over to scoop Josie out of her high chair. She giggled and babbled, mostly making sense in her attempt to tell you that daddy was making pancakes.

“You’re going to need a bath,” You told her, kissing her little palm. “You’re gonna be so sticky.”

“What can she say? She enjoys her food.” He remarked, popping his head over your shoulder — much to Josie’s amusement. “Someone was trying to escape her crib this morning.”

“Oh, Lord.” You made a face at your daughter. “Every day you’re just a new surprise, aren’t you? 

“Da-da-daddy.” She clenched her hands in his direction 

“Here.” You passed her off to him, “I’ll finish the pancakes.” You kissed his cheek as you stepped around him. 

Javier showed Josie in kisses, before he carried her over to the table to sit on his lap while he drank his coffee. “I think I’m gonna call Steve today.”

“Yeah?” You glanced back at him with an arched brow.

“I’m just gonna tell him I’m not ready.” He answered, bouncing Josie on his knee. “Like you said. Maybe in a couple months I’ll want to get back in.” He rubbed at the side of his neck, shrugging. “Might take him out for drinks. Smooth things over.”

“Probably a good idea.” You agreed. 

“No. That’s not for you.” Javier chuckled as he sat his coffee cup further out of Josie’s reach. “I know I was an a-s-s last night.” He told you, spelling out since Josie was there. 

“I mean,” You shrugged a shoulder. “Steve was too. He was definitely baiting to get a rise out of you.” 

Josie crawled her way back up Javi’s lap, nestling against his stomach with her cheek on his chest. He rubbed her back gently, playing with the soft dark curls at the nape of her neck. She had a head of hair not dissimilar from her father’s. 

You shut off the stovetop, before carrying the plates of pancakes over to the table. “Just talk to him, I’m sure he’ll understand.” 

“Talk?” Javier chuckled. “Now, you know we can’t do that.”

“Oh, right.” You laughed as you took Josie out of his arms, putting her back in her highchair. “You’ll just sit at a bar and grunt occasionally. It’ll solve everything.”

“Hey,” He started, gesturing towards Josie. “A lot can come out of a bar. 

You rolled your eyes. “We did make it back to your apartment.” 

Javier grinned at you, “I’m just saying.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” You quipped, looking towards Josie as you cut a piece of pancake for her. “Daddy’s ridiculous, isn’t he? Can you say ridiculous?” 

Josie beamed at you, “Redick-dick.” 

You cringed. “Nope. We’re not going to say that. 

Javier couldn’t help but laugh, “I mean, that’s pretty fuc-... freaking cute.” 

You flipped him off behind Josie’s highchair. “You’re lucky I love you.” 

He grinned at you. 

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena smut

[tracies-tales]

Letter by Letter

Dear Arin...

Dan’s pen paused. He pinched the tip and wiggled it as he surveyed his work. He’d written plenty of love songs in his day, comedy variety though they were. Writing out an actual love letter was basically second nature. Although, it wasn’t helping him get his feelings out and onto a tangible page as he’d hoped it would. He’d heard that pouring one’s soul out in words was a way that helped some people manage their emotions.

Looking at the letter again, Dan was pretty positive this had only deepened his infatuation.

It reminded him of everything he loved about Arin. It was filled end to end with the feelings that he tried to convey to Arin every day. Once he’d begun spilling the things he desperately wished he could find the courage to say out loud, he’d found it difficult to stop.

Because this letter also contained his terror.

As much as his heart was laid out in ink, so too was the underlying fear that this letter could mean the end of their friendship. He didn’t truly believe Arin would shun him if he knew how Dan felt, but he knew things would never be the same. Not really. You can’t just confess your undying love for a person and not experience a change one way or another. 

A sigh parted Dan’s lips as he folded the paper and laid it on his chest beneath his hand. Somewhere, deep down, a piece of him yearned to give Arin the letter. The worst that would probably happen was Arin would apologize and say he didn’t feel the same way. Then they would go back to their lives, recording Game Grumps sessions, laughing at dick jokes, doing his best to hide the pain behind a smile.

He shifted to lay down on the Grump couch, utilizing the space while everyone else was absorbed in their own projects. He rubbed his hands over his face and groaned into his palms. He tried to get himself to accept the fact that Arin’s gay jokes were just that--jokes. But he said them too often, the inflection of his tone always just lilted enough to make Dan’s heart flutter and his thoughts turn to static. The way Arin’s hand would always linger on Dan’s arm or shoulder, or ass, on special occasions, made Dan unable to help but wonder. 

“Whatcha got there?” Arin asked.

Dan jumped and snatched the letter off his chest, crumpling it into his fist. “What’s what?” he asked, far too quickly to be convincing. He hadn’t even heard the door to the studio open.

Arin’s eyebrows shot skyward. “Ooohhh, secrety secrets?” he prompted as he shut the door behind him.

Dan snorted, unable to help but chuckle at his tone. He figured he might as well play along. “Yes, the tippitiest toppest of secrets.”

“My favorite kind!” Arin walked over. Dan didn’t miss the way his eyes glanced to Dan’s hands as he sat up.

Dan shook a finger at him, “No siree, they’re secrets for a reason, Ar.”

A pout immediately overtook his features. They almost made Dan feel guilty enough to show him right then. “Dannyyy,” Arin whined, sitting next to him and leaning heavily into his shoulder. “Come on, at least give me a hint.”

Dan hated when he called him Danny--it was so damn cute. “Dude, cut it out,” he smiled, ruffling Arin’s hair with his free hand. 

“Not until you tell me,” Arin looked up at him.

Dan pursed his lips. He was distracted just long enough by Arin’s puppy eyes for the letter to be snatched from his grip. “Hey!” Dan yelped, leaning to try to grab it back.

Arin stretched his arm to its maximum limit and leaned away from him, holding the paper out of reach. “Dan, come on, how bad can it be?”

“It’s just stupid song lyrics!” Dan blurted, immediately cursing himself for such a blatant lie.

“You’re never ashamed to show me your ideas for new lyrics,” Arin retorted. However, he relented and shifted back up, holding the letter out. Dan grabbed it, but it felt like some otherworldly force was stopping his hand from yanking it away.

Dan frowned down at it, refusing to meet Arin’s eyes. “I know,” he said, feeling his cheeks warm up with a tingling blush. 

“So...what is it?” Arin asked, his tone much less jovial than it was a minute ago.

Dan bit his lip. He shut his eyes and said, “It’s...a letter. To you.”

That made Arin’s brows knit in confusion. “To me?” 

“To you.”

“So why the hell were you so adamantly against showing it to me?”

“Because, I-” Dan’s voice got caught in his throat. “I wasn’t...sure if I was ready for you to know,” he replied, letting the paper go.

Arin glanced to his hand and back up to him. Waiting for approval. Dan grinned in spite of himself, through all the roiling fear tearing his guts apart; he was touched that Arin was actually double checking to make sure he had permission. Dan nodded, but he couldn’t meet Arin’s eyes. He tucked his knees up to hug them as he heard the crinkle of the paper being unfolded and straightened out. Then Arin began to read aloud, which only made Dan’s grip on his legs tighten.

“Dear Arin, 

Where do I begin? I guess all letters have to start somewhere. So here it is, greatest intro to a letter there ever was. Smooth, Avidaniel

How was I supposed to know? I need to stop starting lines with questions How could I have known how big of a part you were going to play in my life? 

Maybe it was your charming smile. Maybe it was your musical resounding laugh. Maybe it was the way you wanted me, a 38 year old nobody, to be your Game Grumps partner in crime. I don’t fucking know, but somehow you took a hold of me and never let me go.

No amount of words in pen, text, audio recording, or verbal assault will ever be able to quantify what it means to me. What you mean to me. Because, fuck dude, you mean the world. 

You deserve everything you have. I mean it. The internet popularity, the lovelies, the job, you’ve worked your ass off for this. Everyone is so proud of what you’ve accomplished, and I couldn’t be happier or luckier to get to see you shine so brightly. I don’t care that the spotlight isn’t on me--you’re more of a star than I’ll ever be.

Shit, I’m running out of paper already. Curse my own large-print hubris! 

I suppose there is one way I could have summed this up rather than write a whole ass essay about the subject.

What I’ve been struggling to write this whole time, because once I’ve written it I’ll know for sure it’s true:

I love you, Arin. 

Nothing’s ever going to change that, whether or not you do, too. 

You can count on it, Big Cat.”

The silence in the room that followed gnawed at Dan’s stomach like acid. Maybe giving him the letter wasn’t the best idea after all. Was he mad? No, he was probably thinking of the gentlest way to turn him down. The waiting was agonizing, driving Dan insane.

The horrendous ache was quelled by Arin’s arms wrapping around him. They encompassed Dan entirely, legs and all, into a snug embrace. Dan was shocked enough that he forgot to adjust to help as Arin hauled him into his lap. The paper had left Arin’s hand and fluttered to the floor.

A sniffle made Dan turn his head. “Arin? Are...are you crying?” he asked.

“Fuck you, what do you mean am I crying?” Arin laughed, the sound broken up with gentle sobs. “How the fuck am I s’posed to read shit like that and not get emotional?”

“I’m...fuck man, I’m sorry, I didn’t even mean to give it to you, I...”

“So you were just gonna bottle it up like some kind of dumbass?”

Dan blinked, “What?”

“Like I haven’t been hinting this at you for years,” he scoffed. “Years, Daniel! I spent this entire damn time thinking the same shit, more or less.”

Dan was dumbfounded. He felt tears start to well up in his eyes, as well, “Really?”

“Of c--of course really! What the hell do you think I was implying? I was hitting on you but really what I wanted was to bang Ross?”

The curse of the static-brain returned. “Hitting on me?”

“Holy fuck, you really were clueless,” Arin laughed, snuggling his face into Dan’s shoulder. He sniffled again and said, “This is only about a couple years too late, but I love you too, Dan.”

Warmth blossomed in Dan’s chest, and his heart raced with no indication of slowing any time soon. He had succumbed to tears as well, beaming at Arin before he shifted his torso and threw his arms around his neck. When Arin lifted his head in curiosity at the adjusted posture, Dan pulled him into a kiss. 

When they parted, Dan noticed Arin now shared his blush. “I’m glad,” Dan said, unsure that he could manage to say anything else.

They both turned their heads when they heard the door opening to Ross, who said, “Woah, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” His gaze drifted to the floor as he noticed the letter. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Dan and Arin said.

cliche? maybe a little

regrets? none

this was inspired by the book “to all the boys i’ve loved before" :) ps i know dan’s 39 i just picked 38 bc idk

edit: this additional little note is to let y’all know i really am taking writing suggestions almost always so if you have ideas or a prompt from somewhere else you want me to tackle, pitch it to me! the worst i can do is say no (and I probably won’t, unless it’s too terribly nsfw) :D

#egobang #ficlet #fluff #love letter

[nessiefromspace]

If you are doing those rare pair things still I would love to see something cute with Rhys and Axton. Big strong commando protecting the string bean of a man from something. Something probably his own fault because Rhys is a trouble magnet. If you would like.

All four drinks, finally in front of him, were wonderfully fruity, with notes of spices and herbs. He clinked them together and leaned over, sucking all the straws into his mouth and gulping them down at once. The bartender stared cautiously as they handed the commando his food.

“You… Okay, buddy?”

“Just peachy, thanks,” he grumbled. He drank more of the mixture together. It was tart and sour while burning his throat in a soothing way. “You ever notice how alcohol burns better after you been rejected?” he asked the bartender.

“Ah, relationship problems?” they asked.

When Rhys tells Axton off, slamming the door in his face, Axton is confused. Rhys has never spoken to him like that, or to anyone he’s turned down. When Axton realizes the truth, however, he’s too late, Rhys has already been kidnapped.

You can also read this on my AO3!!!

Axton trudged into the bar, slumping onto a stool at the counter. “Get me a clover club, strawberry basil margarita, a cosmopolitan and a black widow.” The bartender got to work while he grumpily looked at a food menu and ordered something. He always knew what he craved and he’d wanted Rhys and had been absolutely positive Rhys had wanted him back. He could read people and had read all the signs that Rhys was interested.

But when he made a move, Rhys had rudely dismissed him, claiming he had no idea what he was talking about. He’d wanted to argue with Rhys, but the man had demanded they drop it and Axton leave. It was very unlike Rhys to speak like that, even more so to slam the door in his face. Now he was at this crappy bar nursing his ego and confusion. He sipped at each drink as it arrived.

Sure, he flirted with everyone he found attractive, which, was almost anyone, but it wasn’t the case with Rhys. Rhys flirted back and blushed and giggled so purely and sweetly it had captured the commando’s full attention. Rhys was a free spirit just like Axton, but he lead with his heart, even when it ended in disaster. Ever since he’d first been hired by the CEO, Rhys had followed with his passion and stubbornness, which usually lead to trouble that Axton needed to clean up. In fact, Axton had started hanging around a lot more and volunteering when he realized just how much killing he’d be able to do working for Rhys.

And that had lead to becoming Rhys’ bodyguard, which had lead to spending most of his days with Rhys and getting to really know him. He worked too much when he could see his goal in sight, neglecting all other things, especially his health. Then he’d victoriously binge on ice cream, sharing it with his friends, including Axton. He was so jovial, it was off putting. And when Rhys had began to laugh at Axton’s playful advances, answering them with his own, it had settled deep inside the commando, fluttering around in the back of his head.

All four drinks, finally in front of him, were wonderfully fruity, with notes of spices and herbs. He clinked them together and leaned over, sucking all the straws into his mouth and gulping them down at once. The bartender stared cautiously as they handed the commando his food.

“You… Okay, buddy?”

“Just peachy, thanks,” he grumbled. He drank more of the mixture together. It was tart and sour while burning his throat in a soothing way. “You ever notice how alcohol burns better after you been rejected?” he asked the bartender.

“Ah, relationship problems?” they asked.

Axton shrugged. “I just don’t get it, I’m excellent at reading people, I’m the best, so how did I miss this?” His head was buzzed nicely now and he couldn’t wait for the impact of drinking all of these at once would do. “He gave me all the signs, flirted back, turned the cutest shade of pink, the lingering touches, wanting to spend more time together, but when it’s time to act, he just gets angry and pushes me away.” He frowned. “I just don’t get it.” He reached for his chili cheese fries, scooping a large handful in his mouth. He chewed for a long time, finding himself replaying the conversation. “He hadn’t even opened the door all the way. Am I missin’ something?” he asked to no one in particular.

He felt a knot begin in the pit of his stomach and he washed it in more alcohol, Now that he thought of it, Rhys hadn’t even listened to what Axton had been trying to say. He ate his food, his head perfectly light and floating overhead of his misery. He shrugged and downed the last of his drinks. He leaned on the counter, staring at the game that played on the television. He stuffed more food into his mouth, tuning into the noise of the bar and how loud it actually was. Rhys’ place had been dead quiet, like he’d just gotten home, but Axton knew he’d been there for hours. Rhys always had music or the television on.

And he always smiled at him, but not this time. This time he’d been hurried, nervous and quick to dismiss him. He would have been told if Rhys was having company because Rhys would have asked Axton to escort them or wait with him for them to arrive. He sighed and chomped on his food, pushing the fries to scoop up chili. He’d seen Rhys turn down dates before and it had never been so harsh as it had just been. His eyes flashed to the television, staring idly for a long while as he finished his food.

It hit him when he swallowed the last of the chili. “Good God.” He threw cash down, uncaring at how much he’d overpaid and hurried out of the bar. He kicked himself, swearing as he made his way to Rhys’ apartment on top of Atlas. He didn’t bother knocking, using his personal key instead, drawing his pistol as he opened the door and peeked in. “Rhys?” he called out carefully. The place was quiet with only the slightest hints of a disruption. A broken mug of hot chocolate and a melted bowl of ice cream. His fist clenched and he slammed it on the counter. “Son of a- dammit!”

Rhys had been kidnapped and Axton had let it happen.

He went to the hidden security panel that recorded the house when Rhys wasn’t home. He smirked when he saw the most recent log showing Rhys and his captors. Rhys had turned it on the moment things had gone south. “That’s my boy.” He pulled it up and watched. They were holding him as one of them shut the front door.

“Hello, boss! Surprised? I bet you don’t even know who I am?” a man said, stepping close and punching Rhys in the gut. “Well, you’ll know it now! There’s a big price for bringing in the best hacker and that’s you.”

“You’re dumb if you think I’ll help you,” Rhys spat, earning him another punch to the gut. That’s when there was a knock on the door. They all pulled guns out, but Rhys called to them. “Wait! No! Let me answer the door, I’ll get them to go away. You… You don’t want to kill anybody, others will notice.”

The employee nodded. “No funny business or they die.”

“Yeah, I know,” Rhys snapped.

Axton watched the conversation between Rhys and him, his fists clenching tightly. They were all lined behind Rhys, ready to shoot him and pounced on him when the door was finally shut, knocking him out.

The employee smirked. “This is for not promoting me! I would have been the best head of middle management!”

Another guy shoved the employee. “You dumbass! He was supposed to walk out of here like nothing was wrong! Now how are we supposed to get him out?”

When the video ran its course, Axton sent it to Yvette with a short message that he was going to go get Rhys back. He was more than ready for a fight now. He had no problem finding who wanted Rhys, the employee had left a trail. They’d loaded Rhys into a car and left out to the mountains thick with forest. But preparing to leave was taking so long, he was already out of his horrible hangover.

He leaned over the meeting room table, glaring at Yvette. “We’re taking too long to decide on what to do. I left the military to get away from pointless waiting, dammit.” She quirked a brow at him. He rolled his eyes. “And because I got dishonorably discharged, but mostly the first thing. The point is I’m bored just sitting here while you all take forever to think of a plan. Just let me at them, I can kill them all and save Rhys.”

Vaughn, watching from the other side of a screen spoke up. “He’s got a point, Yvette, time is precious and he’s good at what he does…”

She sighed. “Fine, but you make sure to keep your priorities straight, Axton and that’s Rhys.”

Axton was walking out of the room when he turned his head to speak at her with a hungry grin. “They won’t even make it to him when I show up.”

It was two days past Rhys’ kidnap when Axton finally reached the large cabin riddled with bandits. He left his vehicle hidden a ways from it and reached it on foot silently. He got as close as he dared and set up his turret safely hiding her in a bush. He kissed her. “Kick some ass, sweetheart.” He set a timer on her, giving himself a minute to get out of her way. He was crouched behind a tree by the back entrance when she started shooting at everyone in her sights. He heard her take multiple bandits down. He smirked. “Shit, I love her.”

Axton peeked inside the backdoor, seeing others ready and waiting, their attention on the front door. He took aim and shot them down, laughing. “BAM!” He cackled, taking them down easily. “And you get a bullet! And you get a bullet! Everybody gets a bullet!” His commotion got the attention from the others outside. He slipped inside now that it was safe and knelt behind the old, disintegrating couch picking them off as they each came into the cabin. He smirked and searched the rest of the house for Rhys, but came up empty.

“Crap!” He growled stomping heavily down from the second floor. He was missing something. He scanned the main floor, pulling away all the furniture and rugs. He found the trap door and threw it open, rifle and flashlight ready and finger itching to pull the trigger.

He crouched in front of the angled ladder and took a step onto the first stair. He peered in, flashing the light all around. The basement stretched out the under the cabin with a door at the end. Alert as ever, adrenaline pumping, he took another step, straining for any sounds. It came from behind him, hitting his boots, a slashing of a knife that cut through the thick leather shallowly. He took several steps down at once, grinning wide. “Yeah, I don’t die so easy.” Letting his gun fall to hang around his shoulder, he gripped the ceiling of the opened trap door and swung himself off the ladder and into the basement next to the person who’d attacked him. They ran at him with a gun aimed. He dodged, knocking it out of their hand. He punched them, sending them tumbling backward. He followed, landing a swift kick of his boot to their chest. He pulled his gun up, along with the flashlight to see the man properly. He took aim of the bandit and shot them several times, ensuring they were dead.

He went to the door and kicked it in after a few tries. He entered the room, gun drawn just in case. Rhys was in the center, handcuffed, his arms stretched above him but a rope fastened to the ceiling. His toes barely touched the floor and his head rolled onto his chest.

Axton’s resolve shattered. He went to Rhys, pulling out a large military knife.

Rhys raised his head, eyes wide, fear overwhelming him for a moment before he recognized the commando. “Axton…” He whispered, the corners of his bloodied lips curling upward.

His heart beat faster than he’d ever felt it before and his throat clogged, but he smiled and he reached up to cut the rope tied to Rhys’ handcuffs. “Stronger, smarter, and more sexually attractive.” He worked the rope quickly, sawing through it in no time and Rhys collapsed into him instantly. Axton caught him, holding him close, putting his knife away. He hugged Rhys, easing down to one knee and giving him a moment to rest. Rhys was bloody and dirty and all of it was his. Rage welled inside Axton and he wanted to kill every single bandit again. He swallowed it down for the moment and spoke quietly. “Did ya miss me?”

Rhys was quiet, sitting on Axton’s leg and leaning against him, arms limp, catching his breath. “I’m… I’m sorry, Axton…”

He grunted. “For what?”

“For being rude to you earlier… I didn’t mean any of it…”

He gently brushed Rhys’ sweat and oil soaked hair to the side, tipping his chin up. He bent down to carefully place a kiss on those chapped lips. He smiled. “I know. You’re okay now, I got you.”

But the brunette shook his head. “No… They were just waiting for… Her to come back. She’s… She’s always a step ahead…”

“Okay, then we’ll get out of here, can you walk?”

Rhys nodded.

“Do you know who has the key?” he asked indicating his handcuffs.

“She does.”

Axton nodded and helped him up. “We’ll have to walk a ways, I parked the jeep a day’s walk from here.”

Again, Rhys nodded as they left the room.

“You remember what to do when we go up?”

Another nod.

Axton helped him, holding him around the waist and leading him up the ladder with ease. Rhys ducked his head and body into Axton while the commando looked over, gun at the ready. When it was clear, he pulled Rhys up and out, checking the outside before taking him out there. He packed up his turret, congratulating her and lead them away from the cabin.

The sun was hot through the forest as Rhys trudged through it, finally able to stand on his own. He was hungry and thirsty and incredibly tired, but he didn’t want to stop, not with Her still alive and returning soon. He wanted nothing more to do with Her, nothing more to do with any of it. He knew that wasn’t a possibility, but he could at least get away from the cabin. Axton marched just ahead of him, scouting the way with his GPS.

“I would be utterly lost if I didn’t have this piece of crap.” He grunted, laughing.

Rhys smiled, his heart elated to be back with the commando. He’d known Axton would save him, he always did. He loved saving Rhys and while he knew it was for the excuse to kill, it always felt like there was more to it. Something Rhys couldn’t put together at this moment, but with rest, he’d figure it out. For now, he was glad for what he had. Axton and trees that blocked out the sun, keeping the area cool and staving off his headache.

He watched the back of the blonde man, effortlessly walking through the trees while Rhys kept finding every branch and rock, tripping more and more the longer they went. Rhys blinked, trying to focus, but his body was heavy and his legs wouldn’t cooperate and things were getting blurry.

Axton glanced behind him after Rhys once more tripped, toppling into the strong man. “Sorry…” Rhys mumbled, straightening himself.

The commando turned to him, taking a hold of his arms. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Rhys nodded. “We need to keep moving.”

His eyes assessed Rhys and their surroundings. “We can afford to take a rest.”

Rhys shook his head. “No, I can keep going.”

Axton grunted. “No chance, we’re staying put for a while.” He led Rhys off to the side to a small clearing where he helped Rhys sit against a tree. Rhys grunted, his body wincing visibly. He smiled quickly at Axton, hiding the true depth of his pain. Axton didn’t seem to notice and left him with some water to find wood for a fire. It was still light out, but a fire meant they’d be staying there through the night.

Rhys swore, he’d become a burden. Yes, the commando loved the thrill of the fight, but this wasn’t a fight, it was taking care of someone and Rhys hated that he’d put Axton in that position. He hadn’t told Axton what they’d done to get him to cave and help them. The commando wanted to kill people and things, not nurse his lame ass. His body stung as his sweat and sweat soaked clothes clung to his open wounds. He hadn’t wanted to stop, not just to avoid being a burden, but to keep his adrenaline from seeping away and leaving him an empty husk. But now he was sitting, useless and watching all his nerve melt away as his body calmed and the true extent of his pain surfaced.

Axton was fast, returning with an armful of large sticks and setting them aside for later. He brushed himself off and reached into a deep pocket to pull out a pouch with a first aid symbol on it. He knelt in front of Rhys. “Okay, spill, just how hurt are you?”

He swallowed “I’m fine-”

“Quit the bullshit, Rhys.” Sharp, crystalline eyes stared at him, intense and dangerous. He reached for Rhys’ shirt. “I know you’re hurt more than you’re letting on.” He grabbed the hem and pulled it up, peeling it off Rhys’ body to dangle around his cuffed wrists. Rhys gasped at the pain, shivering as his fresh wounds were exposed to the air, eyes watering. Axton’s eyes were steel as he assessed all the damage. Harsh burns were spread all over Rhys’ torso, favoring the light blue tattoos on his left sight. Shallow gashes ticked up and down his body like cracks in a dam.

Axton’s breath fizzled out of him raggedly. His iced eyes pierced into Rhys. “Did they do this anywhere else?”

Rhys bit his lip, eyes squeezing shut in shame. He felt so weak compared to this military man, so inconvenient. If Axton had fallen to the same fate as Rhys had, he wouldn’t be as bumbling stupid as Rhys was. He sighed, whispering. “My… My back…”

Axton moved around Rhys to look at the damage. “Fuck.”

“They’re, they’re all shallow,” Rhys said, trying to ease the tension and laughing nervously. Something about Axton’s reaction had him worried. He didn’t know how bad it looked, but he knew they’d only wanted to punish him, not kill him. They’d needed him.

Axton unzipped the medical pouch and Rhys heard a tearing of paper before Axton was wiping something over all the wounds. Rhys yelped, squeezing his eyes shut as his head spun, the alcohol stinging like nothing else. He reached out to grip something to keep him steady and found Axton’s knee. He clung to it, gripping hard and gasping with each wipe. He tried hard not to pull away from Axton’s work, but it was automatic. The commando said nothing, working with Rhys’ reactions easily.

Only when Axton was finished, did Rhys breath fully, taking in gulps of air, his body shaking. Wind brushed over it, cooling it and making his back sting even more and he whimpered, pouting. He knew the front of him would be worse. His face heated, mortified at how much of a baby he was being. Axton’s hands were so sure and strong over Rhys. He was so steady where Rhys was weak and all over the place, haphazardly hoping something good came out of it.

He felt Axton’s hand at the base of his neck and Rhys’ eyes fluttered open as Axton closed the distance, kissing Rhys. Rhys was caught by it, leaning in and kissing the commando back.

Axton smiled. “Been meanin’ to do that properly.”

“I wasn’t sure you wanted to… I wasn’t sure if you were just flirting…”

He shrugged, smirking, his thumb massaging Rhys’ neck. “I was.” His eyes lowered to Rhys’ lips. “I like kissing you, too… And more.” His eyes twinkled mischievously.

Rhys couldn’t help grinning ear to ear, the tips of them burning brightly. He wanted to kiss Axton again, feel those experienced lips against his again. He leaned forward and was relieved when Axton received him, pressing against his chapped lips. He leaned further into the commando, wanting more. He reached out, shackled hands gripping at the military man, squeezing tight. Axton held Rhys steady, kissing him over and over, both losing themselves to it.

When they broke away once more, Rhys was drunk with kisses. Axton’s hands gripped his long thighs, rubbing them thoughtfully. He smiled. “We should fix the rest of you up.”

Rhys whined, swallowing hard, his body stiff as he watched Axton rip open another alcohol swab. Rhys’ fists tightened, ready for the next round of searing pain. He hadn’t been ready. It stung worse than his back due to all the burned areas. His eyes squeezed shut and he dug his head into Axton’s shoulder, blocking the commando’s path to the wounds. He felt the salty betrayal slide down his cheeks and swore, sniffling.

“Just hang tight, Rhys, can’t have someone as pretty as you passing out or dying on me.” He grinned tipped Rhys’ chin up to plant more kisses on him, these ones gentle and tender. “There’s a lot more I want to do with you.”

Rhys laughed raggedly, his breath shaking. He wiped his tears away. “I’m crying,” he pouted.

“Hey, happens to the best of us. Gotta say I’m impressed though. You’d have to get me drunk before doing this.”

Rhys looked up at him. “Really?”

He was kissed again. “Yep. You’re pretty badass.”

That got Rhys to smile and allow Axton to finish dressing all the wounds.

Axton made sure Rhys was completely asleep before he walked away from the campsite, marking it on his GPS. He’d left food and water for Rhys if he woke up before Axton got back. He began a slow jog through the forest, easily dodging around bushes and rocks, back to the cabin. The woman Rhys was so afraid of was going to get there- if she wasn’t already- with the rest of her entourage. And Axton was going to kill them all. They’d hurt Rhys over and over again and he wasn’t going to let them walk the planet longer than it took to kill them.

#Borderlands #Rhyxton #Rhys/Axton #rhys the company man #axton the commando #Fluff #Rare Pair Extravaganza

[its-love-u-asshole]

Franchises, Feuds, and Too Much Tension [fic]

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei/Kuroo Tetsurou 

Summary: Sometimes, Tsukishima wonders if his relationship is too good to be true. Kuroo is everything he's ever wanted and more, pardon his cheesiness, and there's never a doubt in his mind that he loves him. Of course, he should've expected a fight like this at some point or another, though he can't say he'd been prepared.The only thing Tsukishima knows for sure is that one way or another, this is all Terushima's fault. 

Rating: E

Tags: fluff, fluff and smut, established relationship, kurotsuki argue about dumb things like horror movies and then bang p much 

Note: Yooo I managed to actually get something done for @heartykurotsukiweek​! I've had this wip sitting in my docs for a while now and then the prompt list came out and day 2 gave me the perfect excuse to finish it ;) and it's smut too which is odd for me these days pft it's torture to write but hey, kurotsuki deserves to get laid always. Big thanks to @emeraldwaves​ for reading this over! 

AO3

Tsukishima was a good, reasonable person.

For the most part.

Therefore, it was important to note how much he did not and would not ever deserve this level of disrespect, from someone he loved no less.

Tsukishima took exactly ten steps into their apartment, not bothering to look at Kuroo until their privacy had been secured. He stopped at the couch, glaring at the few DVDs which were strewn about the rumpled cushions. All good picks, quality thriller movies which he and Kuroo had decided to rewatch the previous night.

He had been a young, naive fool then. Completely unaware of the secrets boiling beneath the surface.

It was like those movies were laughing at him now. Bitches.

How could he have missed it? It was the most obvious horror/gore franchise and yet it had never come up...

Here he was, thinking he and Kuroo were movie buffs when they had never even had the real nitty gritty conversations.

They were frauds.

The front door shut, and the muffled chatter of their neighbors in the hallway was cut off in a split second. Tsukishima could feel Kuroo standing there at the door, staring at his back, but he felt too stubborn to turn around and make the first move.

Man, things could get ugly here. Tsukishima hadn't fully realized it until just now. The silence around them was suffocating, thick with the strain of their thoughts.

Eventually, one of them would have to begin this bloodbath, and once more, Tsukishima was left to marvel at how stupid they both were. Why can't we have normal fights...

They'd never know, but oh how Tsukishima wished they'd never crossed the line into such dangerous territory.

How had this happened again?

It had been a normal night, and honestly, maybe that should've been the first thing to tip Tsukishima off. Things had been too peaceful, too calm, and without a trace of tension in the air when those cursed words had left his mouth, condemning him to a sleepless night.

Perhaps the worst part was the subject matter, but he stood by his opinion, and overall he blamed Terushima for the entire incident.

Some things to take into account before he continued:

1) Tsukishima was right. No matter what anyone said, he'd rather get smashed by a glass pane (ha), than give in to his boyfriend.

2) Final Destination was a terrible series. It had some arguable gems, and it was enjoyable to watch some of the grisly deaths and laugh at the dumbass characters. He'd never try and deny that if he saw it on the T.V. guide, he would click in an instant. Still, most of the films were awful, with less than acceptable effects. Moving on...

3) Kuroo Tetsurou was supposed to be the love of his life, but goddamn if Tsukishima wasn't considering poisoning his water.

4) Addendum. Kuroo Tetsurou was fucking wrong, and Tsukishima hoped he was ready to face the wrath that had been building in his debate club brain for the past hour and thirteen minutes.

Now that the basics are cleared, back to what happened....

They had been at Terushima's house late in the evening, drinking and yelling at each other after a few failed games of Monopoly. Everyone refused to read the instructions no matter how lost they were, but that was irrelevant at this moment in time.

Eventually, they all calmed down as the sun dipped below the horizon and Terushima supplied them with more beer. He and Kuroo had hardly drank, more content with watching their friends make fools of themselves for future blackmailing purposes.

The conversations ranged from embarrassing high school memories, to the famous mint chocolate ice cream debate, most of which Tsukishima gladly tuned out in favor of focusing on Kuroo's hands. Tsukishima had managed to practically seat himself in his boyfriend's lap without calling too much attention to them, the perfect vantage point. Especially when Kuroo's nimble fingers began to massage his exposed hip bones, kneading the soft skin and curves while Tsukishima greedily moved closer.

The touch was familiar, welcome, with something burning and desirous just below the surface. But given their public situation, the fire dwindled, and Tsukishima let himself relax as the ministrations continued. There was no rush, no urgency. They had all the time in the world that Friday night, and they basked in the jovial atmosphere.

That is, until the subject of the newest horror movie came about.

It was silly probably, how fast he and Kuroo's heads shot up, like dogs hearing their kibble pour into bowls, but they couldn't help it. They loved anything to do with horror and suspense; haunted houses, slasher films, whatever.

(Minus the time they'd gotten so scared from one particular movie they couldn't sleep, but no one had to know about that. They'd both agreed long ago on taking that one to the grave.)

But otherwise, it was their calling. They already had their tickets pre-bought for the movie everyone was currently discussing, and they jumped in, scattering their own predictions and opinions without care.

Naturally, one thing led to another, and the conversation turned into a full-blown comparison of different horror franchises, either in support or contempt of the new upcoming film. Whatever. Kuroo and Tsukishima had this shit. They’d made their predictions already, knew the director, had bets placed. So truthfully, this was more of a trip down memory lane of all the shitty and spectacular films they’d watched ever since they’d become brave enough to sneak into R rated movies.

Not to mention all the films they’d seen together, an excuse to hold each other close and makeout during all the boring scenes with dull characters. It made Tsukishima somewhat excited for either outcome. If the movie was good, then he’d enjoy himself and would also have a new movie to rewatch on chilly nights. If it sucked, then he could make Kuroo fall apart, movie forgotten. Wins all around.

So yeah, bringing up both the duds and hits of the horror world made him satisfied all around.

But then, Terushima went and did it, that bastard. He said the measly string of words which would later cause Tsukishima's mind-numbing headache.

"I don't know, it looks like a Final Destination rip-off to me."

And oh, what an insult.

Both he and Kuroo recoiled just a bit, not knowing where to start. What exactly did he mean anyways? They were two completely different plots, new actors, there was no supernatural element at all…

“I mean it looks too over the top,” Terushima continued, smirking slightly at the glares he received from the couple.

“Funny coming from someone as dramatic as you,” Tsukishima shot back, and in true Terushima fashion, the drunkard sloshed his drink in Tsukishima’s direction, eager for a fearful flinch.

Tsukishima didn’t move. A chorus of childish ‘oos’ echoed around them. The stare down between them didn’t last long though, in part because of Terushima’s one too many beers and Tsukishima’s good mood. They both maintained the scowling eye contact for a few seconds before they burst out into a fit of laughter.

Kuroo’s hands tightened on him at the sound.

Horror fan reputation be damned, Tsukishima was ready to ditch the party in favor of seeing exactly what those hands had in mind for him.

But of course, the universe, and Terushima had other plans.

"Those movies were a trip though," Terushima went on as his laughter died, his words slightly slurred from the amount of alcohol he'd inhaled throughout the night. The hiccups made everyone around him giggle. "My far...my fav was the--the one with the cars? The race track! That was epic."

And as predicted, he and Kuroo exchanged amused glances, their thoughts completely in sync. And how could they not be?

‘Pft, the fourth FD is a joke.’

‘I know right? Worst film, best title.’

“Oh Yuuji, how the hell did you get to be so uncultured?” Kuroo sighed dramatically, shaking his head. Tsukishima had to give it to his boyfriend, there was real pity in those eyes. “That’s probably the worst film of them all.”

“Ah fuck off,” Futakuchi’s voice drifted from where he sat, face buried into the couch cushions. Damn, Tsukishima thought he’d died thirty minutes ago.

“Yeah, you’re the ones who’ve seen every damn movie,” someone on the staircase said, and from the tone, Tsukishima could tell it was probably one of the Atsumu twins. Oh, so now everyone had their two cents… “Probably more than once…”

“For research purposes,” Kuroo called back, his grin staying firmly in place. Tsukishima wanted to kiss him for it.

“Oh yeah, well what do you assholes think is the best one then?” Terushima said, swirling around his drink with an air of confidence he did not deserve. It was like he was some rich business investor with expensive wine in his glass and not a broke college student drinking cider out of a Naruto mug.

But Tsukishima didn’t need to point that out, his answer would speak for itself. And it was a no brainer for him. He didn't even have to think as he said, "Oh, the fifth for sure."

At the exact same fucking time, Kuroo went: "The second one."

And that’s when the night fell right down the shit hole.

What.

The observing crowd must’ve realized what an affront this was, what a rare occurrence it was to see them disagree on something so close to their hearts. Oh, the silence which followed could’ve been akin to a cemetery even, but with twice as much dread and foreboding.

Kuroo and Tsukishima looked at each other in an instant, eyes stupidly wide and any other shit-eating words dying on the tips of their tongues.

Tsukishima didn’t have anything to say, could barely process his feelings on the subject. Deep down, he knew this day probably should’ve been expected at some point, but wow, what a fucking inconvenience.

Tsukishima’s mouth opened once, then twice, before he eventually surrendered to the fact they were screwed.

Lastly, the only person who could seem to formulate a response in that moment happened to be Terushima, who simply wheezed in laughter, throwing back the rest of his drink before he spoke in sports bar level excitement. “Oh. Shit.”

Aaaand now they were here. A car ride of silence and two ice cream sundaes (both for Tsukishima) later.

Kuroo clicked the lock on the door, sealing them in for battle, and Tsukishima took one slow, deep breath.

Yeah. He was ready.

The stupidest part was probably how they met each other halfway in no more than five steps. At the time, it felt serious, but Tsukishima knew later he’d want to jump off a cliff.

Kuroo nodded to him, eyes brimming with something so ridiculously nerdy one would think they were in high school mock trial. Basically, it was a look that said, ‘Yeah that’s right. Go first. Bring it.’

‘I fucking will.’

Tsukishima raised his hands, the only thing keeping him from just hitting Kuroo with the nearest pillow. Or…any object really. “Tetsu.”

“Yes, my love?” Kuroo smiled sweetly, and yeah, Tsukishima was so ready. No amount of sappy endearments would change that.

“How the hell can you say the second Final Destination is the best? Did you watch the same movie I did? Surely you could’ve have, dear.”

Tsukishima saw the brief hesitation, the way Kuroo had to smother the immediate instinct to just tackle Tsukishima and kiss the daylights out of him for the petname, but man, Kuroo must’ve been as serious as Tsukishima right then. He powered through it. Damn.

“Oh I’m sorry for liking believable suspense,” Kuroo said, motioning to nothing in particular, as if the gestures somehow made his points more legitimate. “That movie had deaths better if not equal to the first.”

Pure blasphemy.

Tsukishima blinked, shaking his head as he tried to make sense of the words. “B-Believable...wha—Tetsu, a girl has a vision on a freeway.”

Why was the freeway aspect more startling than the vision part? Who knew.

“A believable vision, you can’t trust those fucking log trucks!”

That…was correct, but not the point.

Tsukishima clapped, actually clapped in triumph. “Ha! See! You just like the disaster scene, you’re letting that get in the way of the fact the rest is shit!”

Besides, even if Tsukishima could admit the disaster scene was wonderful, the rest fell flatter than three day old soda.

“Oh, because you totally don’t like the fifth one just for the disaster scene,” Kuroo scoffed, rolling his eyes. “A bridge collapse? Seriously?”

“More original than some glorified car accident,” Tsukishima shot back, crossing his arms in hopes of looking more menacing. Too bad that strategy no longer worked on Kuroo.

“The logs Kei, the logs.”

“If that’s all you have to offer, then you’re not as good at arguing as I thought,” Tsukishima sighed in pity, a tone normally used for provoking Kuroo into…different situations. He’d happily employ it for this fight, no doubt.

The last Final Destination may have had subpar effects, but the ending and the deaths were so well crafted, he refused to let them be overlooked.

“Oh really now? What are your points then? I’m sure someone as devoted as you has more to dish out than insults…”

Tsukishima nearly winced. Kuroo, regardless of his sweetness and the fondness he held for him, had a sharp tongue on him all the same. Tsukishima loved him, but this was not helping.

Not that he was at a disadvantage. Oh no. He would gladly pick apart all the excellent points of the fifth Final Destination if Kuroo wanted him to, but really, his biggest point said it all.

Tsukishima sniffed, aura haughty and just the right amount of bratty to drive Kuroo up the wall. “Why should I? It’s obviously the superior film.”

“So help me, if you say it’s because it connects to the first—”

“It connects to the first film—”

“Kei.”

“—and it does so flawlessly! Admit it!”

“Never!”

Tsukishima turned on his heel, holding his breath as he walked to the end of the living room and back to face Kuroo. It needed to be done. He was about to lose it.

Kuroo either didn’t sense that or wasn’t scared to test it.

“You’re the one letting personal preference get in the way of which one had a better plot Kei, the second one has better acting and—”

“How is tying back to the first one not a better plot? It’s a prequel, a surprise prequel! Also what the hell, they all have the same plot!”

“That’s crap, I know you don’t believe that!”

(Tsukishima did not but okay, technically it was the truth. A director could only take a concept so far.)

Kuroo laughed, somewhat crazed, as he finished his spiel. “Final Destination 2 is better in every way, I liked the characters more, the deaths were better, and it stood on its own. It didn’t have to rely on the first film—”

“It…it completely relies on the first film!”

“—in order to be successful. You probably just don’t remember because you were too busy watching the cash grab that was the fifth movie.”

Tsukishima, had he been more on Kuroo’s level of drama, might’ve gasped, hand on his chest and everything. But no, he steeled himself, squinting because like hell would he blink. Blinking meant defeat.

“The critics hated it,” Tsukishima seethed, as if that meant anything at all. A low, pathetic blow even for him. Was he losing?

“The people loved it,” Kuroo said back, his grin wide and so telling. He thinks I’m losing. Me.

Unacceptable.

The problem there? When Tsukishima got competitive, part of his rationale flew out the window. Therefore, stupid, impulsive decisions could slip through.

Kuroo’s next words were all it took.

“A true horror fan would know, amidst all the movies in the franchise, number two is the shining star,” Kuroo sighed, placing a hand on Tsukishima’s trembling shoulder with confidence all too grand. “It’s okay babe, I still love you, flaws and all.”

Fuck. You.

“Well, we—we’re just gonna have to watch all of them then!” Tsukishima yelled, the fierceness of competition flaring up without control. “We’ll see what the shining star is!”

“Fine!”

“Great!”

Oof.

Or, not great. Not one of his best ideas in hindsight, considering it was already close to midnight. But he was committed.

This, this would surely show Kuroo how wrong he was. The middle movies were a fucking slog and they both knew it. Kuroo would crack in no time, begging Tsukishima to just skip right to the last film.

Fuck yeah.

Unfortunately, he overestimated several things. One, his own patience, and two, his ability to stomach more than two of these shitty ass movies in a row.

Hint: he could not.

It was halfway through Final Destination 3 that Tsukishima had enough, mostly because both he and Kuroo didn't care for this particular installment to the mediocre franchise and also because…as sad as it sounded, he sort of no longer knew why they were fighting.

Glancing over at Kuroo from the corner of his eye, Tsukishima could make out the bored stare mixed with stubbornness and just a tad bit of disgust (the tanning salon death always did sort of freak Kuroo out). Tsukishima couldn't help but grin at the small bit of knowledge, and he cursed himself. Why was being mad at Kuroo so hard?

Maybe it's because you're arguing about Final Destination, Tsukishima's brain supplied, quite unhelpfully.

Kuroo's hands were clenched, gaze flickering towards the remote as if he was contemplating giving in and turning the cursed thing off.

He wouldn't though. They were both far too prideful for that.

No, if Kuroo was going to concede, Tsukishima would have to employ other tactics, and he momentarily let himself cast away any remaining dignity. He couldn't half-ass this, and once his plan was put into action, he wouldn't be able to turn back.

I can't believe it's come to this.

More unbelievable still was the way a rush of anticipation ran up his body, the beginnings of a desirous heat coiling in his abdomen. Like a reflex, a preview of what was to come.

He wondered if his heart had started to race yet, his pulse picking up...

He'd been complaining earlier, but it truly was hard to stay mad at Kuroo. He was....well, he was Kuroo.

Just the name made him relax, and Tsukishima didn't bother scolding himself. What was the use? This would be over soon, given how grossly affectionate he was feeling.

At the thought, Tsukishima looked back at his boyfriend, noting the way the shadows and flashes from the T.V. danced across the curves of his face. The light flecked in his golden eyes, subtle and far too mesmerizing considering the movie playing. Those eyes, framed by long eyelashes and the occasional sand had held Tsukishima's gaze so many times. In fact, Tsukishima had stared at Kuroo's entire face more times than he could count, but he always found himself observing the same things over and over. The light crease on the bridge of his nose during allergy season, the discoloration on the tops of his cheeks due to too many beach trips.

Tsukishima could almost feel the textures from memory alone, each bump, every contour.

Seeing him sitting there, so content and at home regardless of their stupidity, made Tsukishima's heart squeeze, and an easy admission floated into his brain.

Kuroo, with all his dumb reasonings and silly jokes, was handsome. Tsukishima knew that, but it had been a while since he'd reminded himself. Maybe he was setting himself up for disaster, but whatever. He always did like sticking to facts.

Tsukishima didn't feel the need to add more to the observation, and if he had to write a book, he doubted Kuroo's description would be more than a few lines long. Kuroo's smooth edges and searing gazes were too much to describe, but to Tsukishima, they felt so simple. So right. He didn't have to make a case for Kuroo's looks, they stared him in the face everyday, woke up with him, laughed with him.

Not bothering with subtlety anymore, Tsukishima moved his body away from the television until he was facing Kuroo, hugging his knees up to his chest as he continued his musings. Plus, he'd seen this movie enough times (more than enough, fucking hell) to recognize the events. Some guy in the drive-thru was about to get bladed through the head, truly, Final Destination 3 deserved to be in a national archive of some sort. Best film ever.

As if sharing the sentiment, Kuroo chuckled, rolling his eyes at the display of gore.

Yeah, that's my guy, Tsukishima thought, without much resistance. Kuroo never disappointed him, Final Destination 2 be damned.

Tsukishima bit his lip, noting the softness as he stared at his boyfriend's creased brow. He never realized how soft his lips were until he started dating Kuroo. The raven liked to bite on them, pull and suck...

A second tremor came then, and now Tsukishima knew it was over.

Fuck this.

"Like what you see?" Kuroo's soft, amused tone floated in his ears, and he didn't flinch. Tsukishima knew Kuroo had noticed the staring from the beginning, but he was patient with Tsukishima, letting him collect his thoughts for a bit.

God, you're the worst.

And just like that, the last of Tsukishima's willpower was gone.

"Mm," he hummed, moving slowly until he was comfortably seated in Kuroo's lap. "I don't know. The gym death is kind of lame."

One of Kuroo's hands automatically came up to grab Tsukishima's hip, while the other laced their fingers together. Such a sweet, intimate gesture, all to the sound of Lewis Romero's delusional theories.

"The lamest," Kuroo replied, eyes never leaving Tsukishima's lips. The blond briefly wondered how he did that, how he could read the atmosphere so well nowadays. Kuroo was so terrible at that in high school, accidentally offending people, including Tsukishima on a few occasions. The doofus apologized genuinely each time, but still, it was impressive to see how far he'd come.

Now he could read the room like a telepath might, feeling the shifts in mood and atmosphere, knowing exactly what people wanted.

And right then, he could probably tell just how much Tsukishima wanted to be fucked against the nearest available surface.

Side note: Yes, he knew how weird it was to become unbearably horny during a rewatch of a horror franchise, he couldn't explain it and didn't really want to. End of story. Besides, he was allowed, especially after the time Kuroo wanted to get dicked after watching A Christmas Carol, there were some things they just refused to acknowledge.

“Final Destination 2 is pretty lame too you know,” Tsukishima jabbed, but the animosity from before wasn’t there anymore, replaced now with a soft whisper as he tapped his fingers against the back of Kuroo’s hand.

“Mmhm, and so is Final Destination 5,” Kuroo nudged, moving his hips to let Tsukishima slide closer. He happily did so.

“The whole franchise is.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Without a doubt.”

“The worst.”

Each exchange only made their stupid smiles grow, and Kuroo nuzzled Tsukishima’s neck to hide his face before it made them both blush.

“Hey…you know what’s not lame?” Kuroo asked, and Tsukishima rolled his eyes before the words fully left his mouth. Oh no…

Of course, there was no real dread to be found as Tsukishima touched their foreheads together. “Stop.”

“The most beautiful person in the world—”

“No.”

“Light of my life!”

“Tetsu.”

“The future Kuroo Kei, beloved husband.”

The words made Tsukishima halt, especially with how Kuroo’s tone trembled on the last syllables, as if he hadn’t meant to say such a serious thing. He didn’t have to worry, because the words only made Tsukishima wonder how he’d ever been mad at this fool in the first place.

He didn’t let the silence sit between them long, not when Kuroo sat so tense beneath him. Dummy, as if I’d be mad at that.

“Tsukishima Tetsurou,” he whispered into the small space between them, their breath mingling. The admission the reinforcement brought with it, the fact he’d revealed he actually pictured them married, made Tsukishima’s cheeks heat up.

“Huh?” Kuroo choked out, as if he totally hadn’t heard the words loud and clear. Tsukishima laughed lightly, shaking his head.

“It sounds better…that way…you know?” The explanation was poor, but Tsukishima couldn’t sound smart right then, not with the butterflies in his stomach, or the constant heat beneath his skin. To think, they could’ve been this close, touching, this whole time.

Slowly, Kuroo touched their lips together, a peck far too innocent for how in the mood Tsukishima was. Damn Kuroo and his ability to turn every moment sappy. Did Tsukishima understand it? No. Would he change it? Never.

“Yeah, guess it does,” Kuroo said, smiling in a way which would surely kill Tsukishima if he continued.

“So…truce?” Tsukishima tried, moving his hips in hopes of getting that dumb look off of Kuroo’s face. “I’d like to pick up from where we left off, if you don’t mind.”

Being sappy was fun and all, but that was their entire life pretty much. Right then, Tsukishima wanted primal, needy, and nothing would get in the way of that.

One more purposeful grind, and Kuroo got the picture.

Grinning in that lovable, aggravating way, Kuroo met Tsukishima’s movements. “About time.”

I’ll say.

A shiver ran down Tsukishima’s spine as any thoughts of movies or terrible gore effects were forgotten, and he succumbed to the atmosphere, wanting more and more of it.

"Hey...what was that thing at the party you were doing?" Tsukishima asked, ready to dissolve the tension around them and take the plunge. He'd been thinking about this throughout the party, and not even the interruption of Final Destination could smother the flame building between them. He was tired of waiting. The moment of confusion on Kuroo's face didn't last long when Tsukishima placed both of Kuroo's hands on his hips, shivering at the touch on the bare skin where his shirt rode up. Why did he have it on still again?

The recognition in Kuroo's eyes made Tsukishima feel so small, something only Kuroo could do from such a vulnerable position. It happened to be the only time Tsukishima allowed it. And yeah, it was a great look on his boyfriend, as if it was taking all of his willpower to not fuck Tsukishima into the couch right then and there. Kuroo was such a pleaser though, wanting to draw out every touch, every position so Tsukishima could feel everything.

Tonight though, Tsukishima wanted to be the pleaser too, and a wicked thought crossed his mind as his mouth salivated.

I want it in my mouth...

It was the least he could do, after destroying his boyfriend so badly in their fight. Or maybe he just wanted to suck his dick until Kuroo begged to come. He didn't care much anymore about pretenses.

Kuroo chuckled darkly, unaware of how in control Tsukishima was (but honestly, when wasn't he?), and dug into his soft skin with poorly masked greed. "Somehow I doubt that's all you want me to do, love."

And this time, the endearment made him want to surrender.

Kuroo bucked his hips up, grinding their growing erections together, and Tsukishima laughed lowly even as a shudder racked his body. Of course not, but it's a good place to start.

Kuroo's hands traveled up his chest, ghosting over his nipples with his palms slowly. It was as if Kuroo was the conductor of Tsukishima's pleasure, the only one who got the notes and cues exactly right. He grinned as Tsukishima's hips dipped lowly towards him, seeking more.

Tsukishima moaned, and he figured it was alright, since soon Kuroo would be as undone as him.

The sensation of Kuroo playfully tugging at his nipples almost made his plan blur in his mind, his back arching into the feeling, but the determination drove him forward. Perhaps too roughly, he undid the buckle on Kuroo's belt, and in record time, he flung the damn thing to the floor.

Much better, but not enough.

Smirking, Tsukishima leaned forward, licking into Kuroo's mouth until their breath grew hot and frantic. It could hardly be called a kiss, the way Tsukishima would tease with his tongue, coaxing Kuroo's to meet him and make those obscene smacking noises they both loved so much. Shamelessly, he tugged on Kuroo's waistband as he moaned into the kiss. If that wasn't enough to get Kuroo moving, his next words certainly were.

He pulled away, letting a string of saliva connect them as he squeezed Kuroo through his underwear. The captivation on his boyfriend's face made his own cock twitch in his pants. "It's not what I want you to do, it's what I wanna do." Another harsh tug. "Off."

He loved when Kuroo moved fast sometimes.

In a matter of seconds, rough hands returned to his hips, seating him on the couch cushion as Kuroo stood up and kicked off his pants and boxers in a few fluid movements.

The pure obedience did something to Tsukishima he couldn't properly explain, but he squirmed where he sat, trying not to moan at the sight of his boyfriend's cock as it hung heavy between his legs.

It probably didn't matter, since the way Tsukishima immediately moved off the couch and onto his knees spoke for itself. His mind was already racing with the desire to make his boyfriend come, to suck on the head until Kuroo begged for more, to choke on his cock...

"Wait!" Kuroo's voice made him freeze though, and he looked up at Kuroo as the raven sat back onto the couch. He probably looked so sex drunk already, from how Kuroo's eyes flashed with something carnivorous. Stroking his cock, Kuroo laughed at the way Tsukishima's eyes followed the movement, and then pat his thigh. "Come up here."

At that, Tsukishima actually snapped out of it for a bit, blinking in confusion. "But I want to--"

"I know you do, and I'm gonna let you," Kuroo said, and his smirk actually made Tsukishima glare. "But you deserve a consolation prize too."

Tsukishima scoffed, standing to shuck off his pants and briefs.

"It's not a consolation prize if you're the winner," he replied, and still unsure of Kuroo's plan, he hopped back up onto the couch until his breath fanned over Kuroo's cock once more.

The tremble in Kuroo's voice made him wiggle his hips, and he made sure Kuroo watched.

"What happened to a truce?" Kuroo's voice shook as Tsukishima gave his cock a few firm strokes, and the blond didn't care what Kuroo was planning, he wanted more of that desperation now.

"I needed to tell you something," he said slyly, and before Kuroo could retort, he took the head of his cock in his mouth, sucking like he yearned for it. Kuroo choked out a moan as the milky precum met Tsukishima's tongue, and he swirled it around lewdly in his mouth.

Kuroo's hips twitched from the pleasure, and Tsukishima keened, the vibrations driving Kuroo mad.

"Fuck baby, that's right," Kuroo groaned, his hand digging into the cushions clumsily until he found their bottle of lube. Tsukishima didn't understand at first, but the realization dawned on him as soon as he felt a large hand kneed his ass.

Oh. Oh okay. Yes please.

Sticking his ass up higher, Tsukishima began to suck Kuroo off in earnest, making the show of it as he went all the way down on his cock. The sloshing and choking noises probably weren't necessary, but he loved the way they made Kuroo grab his blond hair and pull.

"Fuck Kei, you're amazing."

Tsukishima drank in all of Kuroo's babbles, all the praises and embarrassing comments.

"Want me to stretch you open? You're so dirty, bouncing your ass like this..."

"I'm gonna make you come hard with my cock in your mouth, Kei."

Tsukishima whined, trying his best to keep a good rhythm so Kuroo wouldn't come so fast. But god, it was tempting, especially when all he wanted was to pull off and tell Kuroo to come hard down his throat.

All coherent thought left his mind when Kuroo's lubed finger prodded at his entrance, teasing the rim until Tsukishima's whines turned even brattier, just how Kuroo liked. Tsukishima never liked to show that side of himself, no matter how much Kuroo told him it was okay. But when he did, something in Kuroo snapped, and he was no better than an animal.

He worked Tsukishima open, the lust taking over as he spoke mindlessly. "Fuck babe, your mouth is good at everything huh? So smart, but you can't say anything right now can you?"

He pulled Tsukishima off his cock, and the blond gasped.

Kuroo cursed under his breath. "So sexy..."

At the same time, Kuroo pushed in another finger, teasing the bundle of nerves inside Tsukishima with practiced skill.

Tsukishima got the picture as Kuroo kept him off his cock, but he wanted more than anything to keep going. Kuroo was close, but he obviously didn't want the fun to end. Tsukishima licked the head of his boyfriend's cock instead while Kuroo fingered him roughly, eventually scissoring him with three fingers after Tsukishima loosened up for him. And yeah, Tsukishima couldn't say anything at all, could just moan and push back wantonly.

Kuroo must've used more lube on purpose too, because the way his fingers plunged in and out of Tsukishima's ass filled the room with sloppy, indecent sounds which made Tsukishima glad they didn't have close neighbors.

"Tetsu, ah--I'm--fuck," Tsukishima's words quickly turned to mush when Kuroo pressed firmly against his prostate, and Tsukishima spasmed around him, like he wanted to keep his fingers locked there so badly.

But Kuroo really was a genuine bastard.

He pulled his fingers out, his palm connecting with Tsukishima's ass cheek with a resounding slap.

Tsukishima's back arched, and he stroked Kuroo's cock as best he could with trembling hands.

"Don't stop..."

"Hm, tempting," Kuroo sighed, groaning when Tsukishima licked a long stripe up his cock. "M-maybe if you admit I was right."

Seriously.

Tsukishima huffed, but he was too far gone to stop this, he felt so good. He just wanted to come, wanted to make Kuroo come..."I hate you sometimes."

Not that the words landed in the slightest when he was drooling over his boyfriend's dick. Or when Kuroo abruptly thrusted his fingers back inside of him, Tsukishima's moans way too happy to carry anything convincing.

"Aw, you hate me now? Is that it?" Kuroo said, amusement clear as day as he let Tsukishima feel every slow drag of his fingers inside him.

The rough, breathless syllables pouring from his lips made Tsukishima's mind swim, his body twisting at the sex-drunk words. Kuroo's speech abilities varied, and so far tonight, his debate skills hadn't gotten him far. Now, he was giving 110% to cover all that lost ground.

Tsukishima keened, and fuck, he didn't even bother glaring as Kuroo continued. "Hard to believe. You're so tight around me...."

Fuck, fuck, fuck...

“Mm, I wish I could hate you," Tsukishima sighed out, nails digging into Kuroo's thigh as he felt the familiar coiling of heat in his gut.

I'm gonna come, please make me come...

"But?" Kuroo's grin was most likely of the shit-eating kind, but Tsukishima didn't have it in him anymore to mind. He'd take everything Kuroo offered.

Thinking actions would speak louder than words, Tsukishima took Kuroo's cock back into his mouth, his pace merciless.

Come on, fall apart for me.

And Kuroo certainly did, all inclinations to tease or argue out the window. Neither of them cared about words, not with the pleasure building, not with Kuroo whimpering into the air of their apartment as Tsukishima took him deep.

He felt Kuroo's thrusts quicken, knew his fingers must've been cramping by then, but he kept going, eager to make Tsukishima feel as good as possible.

In the last few moments, a surge of affection welled up in Tsukishima's chest, and the noise he made around Kuroo's cock finally sent him over the edge.

Kuroo threw his head back, his hand leaving Tsukishima's hair to grip the armrest. "Oh god, oh shit, baby I'm coming, I'm--"

The feeling of Kuroo's cum shooting down his throat, along with the rough press of his fingers, sent Tsukishima toppling over the edge. He pulled off as he sobbed out in pleasure, some cum dribbling from the corner of his mouth as his body trembled.

He moved his hips shamelessly, riding out every last shock wave as he released into his hand. At least he'd had enough sense to do that right before his vision blanked out, his toes curling.

So good, so good.

Collapsing, he gave one last jolt as Kuroo pulled out his fingers, the sound absolutely filthy. Spent, their labored breathing filled the room, and Tsukishima lazily wiped his hand on his discarded pair of pants.

"Wow," Kuroo sighed above him, and Tsukishima simply hummed in response. His throat was sore, and his body still tingled from his orgasm. He was perfectly content with silence, and Kuroo's comforting touches.

Or, almost.

One last thought did cross his mind, and he turned over onto his back, letting his head rest on Kuroo's thigh. He felt the blush spread across his cheeks, a reaction he found annoying each time. No matter how many times he said it, it never got less embarrassing. "I love you too much to hate you by the way, shitty movie opinions and all."

Kuroo probably knew that already but...he felt he had to say it. The night couldn't get weirder anyways.

Tsukishima saw the exact moment Kuroo's brain and soul combusted from the statement, and before he knew it, he was being tackled onto the floor, his limbs too relaxed to protest as Kuroo smothered him in affection.

Oh well, if terrible movie marathons ended like this each time, Tsukishima couldn't mind it.

Much.

As if remembering the reason for all this mess, Kuroo lifted his head, glancing over to the home screen of the next installment of the franchise. The fourth one. Terushima's favorite.

Looking at each other, the consensus was reached, and the mutual hatred was all they needed as they both uttered the same response.

"No."

And yes, the truce persisted.

#kurotsukifestweek #kurotsuki #adri writing #tsukishima kei #kuroo tetsurou

[balticrush]

The Mending

Becca x MC (Rynne) It was around nine o’clock when a solid rapping at her apartment door drew Becca’s attention away from the book she’d been reading. She cocked a brow, glancing at the time. It was unlikely that any of their friends would visit without first giving notice. Rynne was out picking up some groceries and certainly wouldn’t knock before entering. She shrugged, lazily crossing the room to answer it. Upon opening the door, her heart went rigid.

“Good evening, Rebecca.”

There, in the dim light of the hallway, stood her father. He wore a suit and a smile that was anything but friendly. Her hand tightened on the door handle, as she made no move to step aside and let him in.

“Father,” she greeted curtly. He had all but disappeared from her life for the past year, and she’d been quite alright with that arrangement. Now, showing up out of nowhere at such a late hour, he had her brain blowing up with red flags. Tilting his head to one side, he peered past her and into the apartment.

“You live alone?” he asked, feigning innocence. She felt her pulse quicken.

“N-no… not alone.” Her subconscious warned her against giving out any more information than what was directly requested.

“Is your roommate here right now?”

“I… no. She’s out shopping. Should be back any minute.” A lie. Becca had no idea when Rynne would return. Her father saw right through it. Smiling easily, he took a stride into her personal space, making as though to take her arm.

“Would you like to step outside with me for a moment? There’s something I wish to discuss with you.”

Becca took two steps back, shaking her head. “I– I can’t. I have to…”

“Come now, it’ll only take a minute,” he cut her off, tone changing abruptly to something more insistent. He followed her as she walked backward, catching her wrist when she bumped into the couch. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she frantically attempted to conjure up a plan of escape. His grip tightened, painful now, and she gave a soft squeak just as a voice drifted in from outside the still open door.

“Dang Becs, the room got a little too much privacy for ya?” Rynne stepped inside, jovial light instantly dropping from her eyes as she took in the scene. The bag of groceries was set warily on the floor as she came in the rest of the way, shoulders going tense. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Rebecca’s father,” he answered, releasing Becca’s wrist in favor of extending a hand. Becca took the opportunity to quickly move around him so she was standing behind Rynne, who hesitated briefly before taking the offered hand so firmly in her own that Becca swore she heard knuckles popping. He certainly winced, displeasure evident on his features. When Rynne made no move to introduce herself he continued stiffly. “Not to be rude, but this is a family matter, and therefore none of your concern. So if you wouldn’t mind leaving…”

Rynne’s smirk held no amusement when she replied. “Well I’m just one small proposal and a ring short of family, so maybe you’d like to reconsider that statement.”

His eyes widened at that. “You…? You’re…?” He composed himself, jaw going rigid. “Of course. It figures. Rebecca always did have poor judgement, no different than any other woman in the family.”

Becca was quite certain the temperature in the room instantly dropped ten degrees. Rynne stepped forward, having to tilt her head back just slightly to make proper eye-contact with him. Her lack of height in no way decreased her level of intimidation as she spoke.

“Listen. I had a healthy dislike for you long before you ever set foot in this place, and every second you’ve been here has just been nursing that opinion into full-on loathing. So I’ll be blunt.” She grabbed his shirt collar with such speed that Becca almost missed it happening. “You’re one disrespectful comment away from getting your ass dropkicked out that door. Might wanna be real careful with your next sentence. Maybe make a few rough drafts first.” She released him with a rough little shove and he gave a startled grunt before immediately returning to his state of irritation.

“Is that a threat?”

“Got a few brain cells up there after all, I see.” She could feel Becca trembling against her back, stoking the fire in the pit of her stomach. However, her voice was gentle as the dawn when she asked, “You wanna talk to this guy, baby?”

“Rebecca–” he began sternly, warning in every syllable. She cowered slightly, gripping Rynne’s shirt, but her voice was certain when she replied.

“No. I don’t.”

“REBECCA DAVENPORT,” he bellowed, face red with anger.

Far from daunted, Rynne slipped an arm around her waist briefly, kissing her cheek before releasing her. “Can you do me a favor, darling?” she asked softly. Becca nodded. “Go ahead and stand over there by the table for a moment. I don’t want to get any of this guy’s blood on you when I bust a chair over his face. Wouldn’t wanna risk you catching whatever disease turned him into a total dumbass.”

Becca wasn’t sure exactly what it was that finally made her father take Rynne seriously, but he quite visibly paled. Maybe it was the level of unshakable confidence in her voice. Or maybe it was the way she effortlessly swung a chair over one shoulder, making sure her bicep flexed so hard that there was the audible sound of stitches ripping where her sleeve was rolled up around it. Whatever the case, she watched as his protests shriveled and died just as quickly as they were forming.

“Door’s that way,” Rynne reminded him casually, nodding in its general direction. His eyes made one more uncertain pass between the two of them before he complied, his movements tense and awkward, like he expected to be beaten down any second. Just as he reached the doorway, Rynne’s voice stopped him.

“Hey, I forgot to mention…” He turned, glaring. She leveled him with a look Becca had never seen before and hoped she never had to see again. “You’re welcome to stop by anytime.” Confusion flickered across his expression before she continued, “But if you do I’ll rip your throat out.” What little color still remained in his face vanished at that, and he turned on his heel, the door slamming shut behind him.

Once he was gone, Rynne sighed, running her fingers through her hair. “Jeez, what a piece of work, huh?” Catching sight of a shaken Becca, her chest blossomed with concern. “Oh sweetheart, come here. I’m sorry.” She pulled her into a tight hug that was immediately returned. A long moment passed, gentle kisses slowly being pressed along Becca’s cheek and soothing circles getting rubbed into her back. Eventually, she felt the tension easing away.

“Did you mean it?”

Rynne froze, frantically trying to figure out which comment had stepped over the line. Probably the throat-ripping. She grimaced. “Which part…?” Becca pulled back, and Rynne was shocked to see a shy blush across her cheeks. Her voice dropped to an uncertain whisper.

“…the proposal part.”

Rynne flinched, giving a nervous laugh. She really had let that slip, hadn’t she? The timing hardly seemed proper after all that mess, but it wasn’t as though she could play it off now. Stepping back, she headed for one of the bags on the floor. Reaching a hand in, she procured a small black box. Becca’s eyes went wide as she dropped to one knee.

“I don’t suppose you’d be interested in having another go at the family thing?”

#becca davenport #becca x mc #mc x becca #choices #my writing

[jesterofinaba]

starter | @obeysword

It was quiet at the bar, and Adachi was content in thinking that it’d stay that way. It could get boring as all get out, but it was starting to get late, and he got paid the same. It’s not like this was the States and he’d get some kinda extra buck here and there. There had been a pretty steady stream of patrons since his shift started, never more than two or three at a time, and the soft amber lights shining off the polished oak surface made it feel... comfortable. Not overcrowded, thanks to the small space and lack of seats, but enough people that would stick around and give him a few yen for a magic trick if they were plastered enough. But now the little bar was empty except for Adachi, and he was busy cleaning a glass (just like in the movies, he’d thought idly), when the door opened and someone took a seat.

“Hey there. What’ll it be?”

The question’s automatic at this point, but when he looks up from the glass, it’s a miracle he didn’t drop it to the floor with a shatter.

Narukami.

He knew that they’d have to run into each other one of these days, he wasn’t completely stupid. That, or the kid came looking for it, but even then, it’s not like he was trying too hard not to be found. Narukami’s pretty much as Adachi remembers him, looking like he was better than everyone, the rich kid prettyboy who got a ragtag bunch of brats to act like trained dogs, just doing whatever the hell he asked. Ugh. He still had this air about him like he wanted nothing more than to crush Adachi under his heel, though his steely gaze had, if it was even possible, even more of a darkness behind it.

Oh, he’d nearly forgotten how much he hated Narukami. He’d also almost forgotten what this kind of unfettered rage felt like. He squashes it down with a smile, knowing that if he ever tells his therapist this, the nerd’d throttle him.

The grin he gives is jovial, but without the veneer of a dumbass dumb cop dope in front of it; knowing and a little sly. He looks remarkably healthier than his arrest a few years before- hair to about his chin and well kempt for once in his life, face not nearly as sallow, not as much of skin and bones as before. He’s also wearing a small, rectangular pair of glasses, and his gray eyes shine behind them with... something. He reaches back to untie the apron around his waist, unrolling the sleeves of his casual red button-up. and rests a hand lackadaisically on the counter with that same impish grin.

“Are you at the drinking age already? Man, how time flies. Couple years in solitary will do that to you, though.

But let’s cut the shit, huh? Why’re you here, Narukami-kun?”

#𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚜 [ RP ] #𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚔𝚎'𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍 [ PERSONA 5 ROYAL VERSE ] #obeysword #[me: i'll write quick starters] #[also me: this] #[pretend the icon matches the physical description i gave him LGJFLHJDL] #[god i'm so excited]

[hamilmeme69-blog]

The Counsellor's Surprise.

{ AU belongs to @doritofalls ! Check them out! } Peace and quiet. Serenity filled the crisp and cool air, not even a butterfly flittering anywhere in sight to disturb the silent and still morning. The honey-gold sun slowly crept into sight, touching all areas with its warm and radiant light. Birds chirped their good morning songs, grass blades drifted gently in the soft breeze, nothing could ruin it. Max, appreciating the noiseless morning, took the opportunity to sleep in and catch up on all of those missed hours of shut eyes. Drool trailed down the corner of his lips as he snored, though, it wasn't loud enough like a bear's to stir up any true annoying noise. But it was like as soon as he thought he had earned some well-deserved rest, an all too familiar jovial and perky voice echoed through the branches, an even more bothersome guitar started to play almost straight away. "OHHHHHHHHHHHH! There's a place I know that's tucked away, a place where you and I can stay where we can go out to laugh and play and have adventures everyday! I know that sounds hard to belive, but guys and gals it's true! Camp Campbell is the place for me and you!" David. Of every possible way a morning such as tranquil as this could be ruined, it had to have been ruined by David. (Un. Fucken. Believable,) Max thought. With an angered growl, he emerged from his cot and felt a dizziness arise in his head, making his environment spin a lot harsher than it should've. To his dismay, a throbbing, stinging pain erupted in his skull, a migraine following after. This always occured if he had been awoken too abruptly and far too early. Rubbing his temples, he walked through the flaps and shot David the most aggravated expression he could think of. "David, what the hell?! People are trying to sleep you dick!" As always, David merely greeted him with his default bright smile and cheerful tone. "I know! They're going to miss out on a bea-utiful sunrise!" "A sunrise? That's what you woke up us for?!" The other campers, who tried to ignore David's admittedly annoying wake-up call, soon came out of their tents when the argument had began. Each of them were groaning and rubbing their eyes. David's breath hitched somewhat. "W.. Well, yes! Sunrises are an amazing feature about nature, Max! And--!" "No. NO. Shut up, just shut. Up. No one gives a flying fuck about your dumbass sunrises and not a single goddamn shitty camp activity you planned out for us! Can you even call it planning; it feels like you just make shit up on the dot and if it goes to hell but it works, then by all means, just throw away any original plans!" Neil blinked himself awake at Max's berating, frowning slightly as he warily approached him. "Whoa, whoa. What's your problem? You're acting like a bigger douche than usual." "What's my problem? My problem is that David woke us all up at ass in the morning for something as stupid as a fucken sunrise! Sorry if I'm a bit cranky!" Nikki shook her head and stood next to her clearly upset friend, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You have to give David some credit, Max. He was just trying to be considerate." He glared. "Maybe I would if he had done it in a less obnoxious way. Did you know that was the one time -- The one time! -- I could actually close my eyes and sleep for a solid eight hours? But nope! Camp Man here decides to fuck it all up because he thinks he knows what's best for us instead of just letting us gain our own happiness in our own way so he can figure it out!" Soon, his attention averted to the male. Everybody held their breath when Max pointed a finger at him. "I can't believe you have the audacity to claim you've been working with us kids for a good portion of our ruined summer and yet you don't use your fucken brain to see a pattern here! Hell, I'VE noticed that this is the TENTH time you've done this in nearly three fucken weeks! You ever stop and wonder what we want? It's all about what you want and what you want to see. I wouldn't be half as pissed if you didn't pull this shit on Saturdays. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go try and go back to sleep. Good. Night." Without another word, Max turned himself around on the rock of his heel and charged back inside of his tent, shock and unease thick in the silent again air. It was Nikki who was brave enough to reach up in attempt to hold his hand. "David--." Attempt failed. He jerked his hand away and forced an insincere grin, clasping his hands together in a single clap. "Campers! Change of plans. Why don't you, ah, take the day off and um.. H-Hang out with Gwen for the day? I just.. Remembered I have a very busy schedule today, sooo.. Gwen's in charge." Preston felt his heart stop beating. "W-What?! But.. Who's going to help me with my costumes for next week's play?!" "You can always ask Gwen, Preston." "BUT ONLY YOU KNOW THE DESIGNS, DAMMIT!" "I don't see the issue in teaching them to her." "You don't understand, it.." The child paused and frowned, his heartbroken expression triggering a pang of guilt in David's chest. "..It wouldn't be the same." "Who's going to help me with space camp?" asked Space Kid. "Who's going to help me repair the ramp?" asked Ered. "Who's going to help me with my painting?" asked Dolph. "Who's going to help me clean out the dove poop from my hat and actually get me to laugh about it instead of feeling embarrassed about it?" asked Harrison. "David," started Neil gently. "Who's going to actually care about us? The last time Gwen was left 'in charge,'" he air quoted, "we were raided by the Woodscouts and she moved not a single bone in her entire body to do something about it. You forget that she's the same woman who's recorded another grown woman attack a child in hopes it would go viral and she would earn a fair amount of cash from it." Nikki crossed her arms. "Yeah. We've tried going one day without you in the past but things never turned out well." The male bit down on the edge of his thumb before sighing lightly and patting himself down in search of his keys. When he found them, he started to depart from the children. "It's just for today, kids. Come on, give her a chance, please? For me?" Not like they had a choice. Before they could argue again, he had made it crystal clear he was going to head out for the rest of the day. Neil sighed in exasperation and defeat. "That's just great. The one adult that gives a shit about us just walked away because Max was on his man-period. Did you guys see the hatred in his eyes?" "Yeah," replied Harrison. "I would say Max had been holding that in for a while now." "Probably longer than we think," added Nerris. Neither of their comments put Neil's nerves at ease. "No, I mean.. I think Max wanted to hurt David the way he did. And, granted, he tries to hurt him almost every day of the week, this time it felt.. Different, didn't it? If there's been another time where he struck where it hurt, I don't think any of us were there to see it." Nurf grunted. "I don't see what the big deal is. So David's feelings got a little hurt, big whup." Preston stomped his foot on the ground, somewhat offended himself the other had dared to say that. "THE BIG DEAL, NURF, IS THAT DAVID IS THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN KEEP SHIT IN CHECK! WITHOUT HIM, WE CANNOT FUNCTION PROPERLY AS A CAMP OR EVEN OURSELVES!" "Don't yell at me. You know what I'm like when I'm angry." SLAP! "Not everything is about YOU, Nurf," Preston spat out, retracting his hand after it had left a large red handprint on his cheek. "Then again I'm not surprised that someone as thick-headed and insensitive as yourself would only think about yourself. He has been there for every single one of us when we needed him to be. I say we do the same when he returns! We can write him a song or even throw a play! Who's with me?!" Neil nodded with a smile at the idea. "Hey, that's actually a really good idea! We had a Quartermaster appreciation day. I don't see why there shouldn't be a David appreciation day!" Nikki gasped. "And him being gone gives us the perfect time to work on a surprise!" Neil rubbed his chin. "Alright, gang. Any idea you have, just go for it. All that matters is that we show David how much he means to us. Let's get to work!" > Everyone had worked hard that night to set up a surprise. They had baked a cake, tidied up the cabin -- Why, Neil even managed to convince Max into apologising to him and help everyone make the camp look nice. But everybody, even Gwen, noticed just how late it had gotten and their fellow camp counsellor had yet to return. Max sat down at front, anxiously waiting for his car to pull up at any second. Gwen volunteered to clean up David's room and make his bed. She was alone. David left at 5:09 A.M. and it was 8:32 P.M. The thought made her chew on her lip. Her phone soon buzzed. When she read the text, she was beyond relieved to know David was still okay, the feeling of her stress vanishing immediately returned and doubled when reading his text. She felt sick. She felt appalled. She felt unsure of what to do. | Moron. | { Gwen. Get QM and meet me out in the back. } { Don't tell the campers that I'm here yet. } { I killed a man and I need help hiding his body. } She couldn't believe David -- Of all people -- Had killed a man, let alone he requested she helps hide the evidence! If they get caught, they'd be thrown in jail and the campers would forever live in fear and shame and be forced to carry around the burden of knowing two murderers who were counsellors in disguise. But for some odd reason, a reason Gwendolyn herself may never know why.. | Moron. | { Gwen. Get QM and meet me out in the back. } { Don't tell the campers that I'm here yet. } { I killed a man and I need help hiding his body. } {Gwen, please answer me. This isn't a joke.} {Gwen??} {Sorry. I got distracted.} {Okay. I'll help you.} {Just. This. Once.}

#it is one in the morning #camp camp #cc david #cc max #cc gwen #cc nikki #cc neil #cc preston #cc harrison #cc nerris #cc nurf #cc quartermaster #cc ered #cc dolph #cc space kid #oh no baby what #is you doing #stress is bad for the baby #gwen is the baby #she wasnt ready #i really hope you like this ashdjdjsj

[ziskandra]

PRIORITY OPS: REPOPULATING HELEUS (Ch. 4)

we call this chapter ‘fluff and foreshadowing’ ao3 link. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 

4. Close To

In the weeks that had passed since their fight, things had returned more-or-less to normal for Liam and Sara. Too normal, almost, if you asked Liam: the events that had shaped the first six months or so of their relationship had, after all, been anything but ordinary. Even though he was struggling with the change in pace, he knew that Sara had it worse. While she seemed less restless lately, more inclined towards the amused smiles and quick wit of the Sara he had first fallen in love with, her easy joviality was confined solely to her waking hours. Sara had never been a quiet sleeper, but she whimpered more in the middle of the night these days. Tossed and turned. Stole the blankets.

It was one such night that Liam awoke with a jolt, feeling the cool air of their room on his bare chest, and Sara curled at the edge of the mattress, twisted in the covers. She was talking to herself, her words quieter than a murmur. Liam wished he could make them out; wondered if it would help him decipher what haunted her dreams. When she started thrashing her legs, almost propelling herself off the edge of the bed, Liam instinctively reached out with one arm to shake her. "Sara, Sara," he whispered, "wake up." 

She rolled away and he had no other choice to pull her back towards him, or she'd be in for a rather nastier awakening than he'd anticipated. The sharpness of the motion was enough to achieve his aim, although not in the way he would've liked. Her eyes blinked uneasily for a few moments as she shook off the last vestiges of sleep. "Liam?" she mumbled, turning back over to look at him. "Why'd you push me?"

“Didn’t,” he responded easily, one arm curling protectively around her. “You were talking in your sleep again.” His other hand reached up towards her face to brush her hair back from where it had fallen in front of her. “Another nightmare?” 

She breathed in deeply, then exhaled with a shuddery breath. “Yeah. You can say that.”

“Want to talk about it?” She usually didn’t, but Liam liked to ask. He watched as her eyes went curiously blank as she steeled herself, saw her hesitation. He was ready for her to shake her head and insist they go back to sleep when she spoke instead.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she admitted, averting her gaze as though embarrassed by the disclosure. “And it scares me.” Her hand settled on the side of his stomach, warm against his cool skin. 

“You have me,” he promised, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And I’m not going anywhere.” 

She laughed at that, an amused little chuckle that lifted Liam’s spirits. He really just wanted Sara to be happy, and he’d contribute to that happiness in whatever way he could. “I appreciate it,” she started, before Liam interrupted. 

“I sense a ‘but’."

“Well, if you’d let me finish,” she admonished with a light slap against Liam’s arm. “It’s just you never know what’s going to happen, right?” Her smile turned to a grimace before she continued, the vacant look creeping back into her eyes. “I doubt Dad thought he would die just after we arrived in Andromeda.” 

The way her voice trembled at the end of her sentence broke something in Liam’s heart. Instinctively, he drew her in closer, holding her tight against his chest. She nuzzled into his grip, so it wasn’t like she couldn’t use the comfort. “None of us are dying any time soon, got it?” He hated how much it sounded like a platitude when he meant every word he said. Sure, he didn’t have much of a plan, but he’d protect her with everything he had. His life, if he had to. 

… Oh.  Realisation and understanding hit him like a bolt of lightning. Kosta, you’re an idiot.  Sara smiled wanly. “I wish I had your faith, sometimes.” 

He gave her a squeeze, then whispered against her ear, “Just as well I’ve got enough for the both of us. But I mean it, Sara. Whatever I have to do to keep us safe, I’m ready for it.” 

She must have heard his emphasis on the ‘us’, for the tension drained from her shoulders. He hadn’t even realised just how tightly she’d been holding herself, and she’d been in his arms this entire time. “Our job here is dangerous,” she said with a start. “And while things seem calm now…” she shrugged with one shoulder, the other still pressed firmly against the mattress. “I can’t help but think this is the proverbial eye of the storm.” 

“If it is,” Liam answered, with all the conviction he felt down to the very roots of his being, “I’ll be here to weather it with you.” 

“Together,” she whispered, almost reverently, before dropping her gaze again. “I’ve just been… thinking about Dad a lot lately. Trying not to, which probably explains this. The nightmares.” 

He’d suspected as much, but it helped to have the confirmation. He pressed another kiss to her face, this time against the tip of her nose. “You still blame yourself.” Not a question. 

“I just wonder, sometimes, how differently things would have gone if he’d been here. If he hadn’t had to protect me.”

Liam frowned. “Most parents would die to save their children,” he said, and it was only when Sara extricated herself from his grip to roll onto her back and throw her head against her pillow did he realise, too late, that Alec Ryder hadn’t exactly been most parents. Still. He’d given his life for his daughter, and that had to count for something, right? 

“I know,” she sighed as she looked up at the ceiling. “But Dad was just so accomplished, you know? As an explorer, as a pioneer, as a person. He was an N7, for God’s sake.”

Liam took a chance and reached out for her hand again, gave it a squeeze. “But he wasn’t the one who settled the outposts, connected communities, and brought everyone together to save the cluster.” 

“Wow,” Sara said with a surprised laugh. “Do you want to write my speeches from now on? They’ve never been my strong suit.” It wasn’t a serious suggestion, and Liam knew it. She turned her head to face him. “Do you think he would have done things differently?” 

“I can’t say for certain,” Liam started as he realised just how little he knew about Alec Ryder, the man behind the legend. “Maybe he would’ve. But who knows? He would’ve gotten different results. Maybe they could be better.” He inclined his head towards hers. “But they could also be a hell of a lot worse.” He shimmied slightly closer, so their shoulders were barely touching. “I’m happy with how things ended up.” He hesitated for the briefest of moments before continuing. “Aren’t you?” 

“Yeah. I am.” She smiled then, a proper one, the kind that lit up her whole face. “I’ve just been putting things off, but SAM keeps telling me that talking to people helps, so.” She wrinkled her nose. “Thank you.” 

“Helped, have I?” Liam asked brightly, and Sara gave him a playful shove.

“Dumbass. You always do.” She sighed again, shifting to rest one of her legs between Liam’s.  “I just need to go watch that last memory of my dad’s already. I keep bracing myself for some grand revelation, but I’m sure whatever I’m coming up with in my head can’t be worse than the truth.” 

They started to entangle themselves in each other again; Liam warmed by the heat radiating off Sara’s body. She was like his own personal heater. “What makes you so sure there’s some terrible secret waiting for you?” 

“The way it started,” she answered solemnly. “Did I tell you? Some of the first audio logs I listened to, after… Well, he basically said, 'You’re going to find out some things, and I hope you’ll understand.’ Makes it sound like he did something horrible, didn’t it? Something which could go beyond my capacity to forgive him. But,” she said, nuzzling in closer to Liam so her head was almost pressed against his neck, “I can’t think of what it could be. I know he’s not perfect. His record’s not spotless. We had our disagreements. But he’s my father. And…I’m babbling again, aren’t I?” 

Liam had noticed her fingers drumming restlessly against his skin, but hadn’t said anything. It was encouraging to see her open up like this, to trust him, really trust him, with her deepest and most intimate fears. “I like it when you babble,” he assured her, “and I want you to know you can tell me anything.”

“I know,” she told him, “and I’m trying my best. I don’t know what’s worse. That I’m overthinking things. Or that I’m not. But I do need to stop putting it off. Not knowing clearly isn’t helping matters.”

Liam chuckled, running a hand down Sara’s side. “You were one of those kids at school who was always too nervous to check their marks, weren’t you?” 

“Pathetic, isn’t it?” Sara said with a smile, all the confirmation that Liam needed. 

“Nah,” he assured her, “just different.” 

“Bet you were the type who just barrelled ahead and opened them up,” she shot back in response.

He held up a hand. Guilty as charged. “Always been a bit impulsive,” he answered, earning him an arched eyebrow from Sara. Yeah, okay, so maybe a bit was an understatement. 

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” Sara asked, her fingers trailing up his side, mimicking his motions.

He took a moment to contemplate whether it was a serious question before catching her hand in one of his own. “Hey, that tickles!"

She huffed, half annoyed, half amused. “Anyway, I’ve been thinking,” she said, intertwining her fingers with his. 

He looked down at where their hands were joined. “About?”  

“Children,” she answered promptly. It was a strange and curious thing, the way that one word made his insides swoop with joy, the elation that resulted from realising she might actually be considering the same future he was. “Not right now,” she continued, at the butterflies in his stomach settled slightly, hovering as they waited for whatever she said next. “But someday. With you,” she added, as though the clarification was necessary. The room was dimly lit, but Liam swore he could see colour rise high on Sara’s cheeks. 

“I’d like that,” Liam answered roughly, doing his best to ignore the way the words made blood rush to his extremities and instead raising Sara’s hand to his lips to press a kiss against it. “When the time is right. When you're ready. What brought this on?”

“You remember when we found out where the angara came from? And you sent me that email: the Jardaan made a people. And then there was Dad, with SAM. It’s just been something I’ve been thinking about. It’s not the same scale, sure. But isn’t that what having kids is like? Making people.”

He dragged his mouth downwards, brushing along the inside of Sara’s wrist. He could feel her pulse flutter there, beautiful and precious. “You and SAM: getting along better these days,” he noted. 

“Yeah,” she breathed, pressing her thighs more heavily against his; it took more and more of his will-power to not get distracted. “I mean. He didn’t ask to be created any more than I did. I can’t begrudge him for wanting to live. We’re still two separate consciousnesses, but intertwined. And look. It’s still weird — sorry, SAM— but what about my life hasn’t been? I’m doing my best to be okay with it. I can keep looking back at all the things I wished could have gone differently, like Mom dying or becoming the Pathfinder, but I want to be able to look forward. For us. For our future.” 

“For our future,” Liam echoed, feeling his chest bloom with adoration for this beautiful, amazing woman who he was so lucky to have in his life. It was hard, sometimes, to keep the entire depth and breadth of his feelings for Sara to himself when all he really wanted to do was scream all of them from the rooftops, to write her a letter itemising every little thing he loved about her. She’d hate it, which was the only reason stopping him from doing so. 

“You’re the one who made me believe it’s possible,” Sara admitted, her expression turning thoughtful. “I think the thing that gets me most about having kids is that anything can happen. Sure, you can try moulding them in your own image, you can guide them however you want, but at the end of the day, they’re individuals, with their own consciousness and they’re going to go into the world and do things you have no control over. Perhaps, even, things beyond your wildest imagination. It’s just that I think you’ve got to be ready for that, when you bring life into the world. And… I’m doing it again, aren’t I? Babbling.”

“I love it,” he answered with all the sincerity he could muster, and Sara’s eyes dropped to his lips. Before he could even lean in, she closed the distance between them and captured his mouth with her own, her spare hand cupping his face, thumb running over his cheekbone. 

When they broke apart, they moved as little as possible. Noses touching, Liam could still feel Sara’s breath against his skin. “I love you,” she told him, eyes bright and earnest. 

“I love you, too,” he answered, nuzzling his nose against hers. “And we are going to be great parents. One day.” 

“Still enough faith for the both of us,” Sara laughed. 

#liam kosta #ryder #rydam #ryder x liam #mass effect andromeda #mass effect #asha fic #nat fic: repopulating heleus #comments and reblogs make my life #any feedback really! #let me know what you think #even if it's incoherent squealing #and i also welcome concrit with open arms!! #me:a spoilers