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spiltscribbles · 3 years

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You're doing prompts! Yesss you have no idea how happy that makes me cause I love you're writing so so so much its so amazing soo yayyyyyy 🥳🥳 can I request prompt 32? Things you said I wouldn't understand. Maybe some wolfstar? I'm just a slut for your fics so I would probably die if you wrote this. Even if you don't that's fine I never wanna pressure you soo yeah love you 💕💕

~Notes: Gorgeous, this message is literally so fucking kind and I am absolutely SOBBING!!!! You are such a fucking gorgeous soul! And this means the galaxy! And I’m sorry! This screams angst, but I had a really really fucking awful day, so I just wanted to escape with some fluff :( But if you want me to redo I promise I will! Or you can send me another prompt and I’ll write angst! I adore you!!!

A Reblog Is Worth A Thousand Stars » Send Me A Prompt » Things You Said That I Couldn’t Understand

Sirius realizes on an ordinary Tuesday morning as he spills the chocolate chips into the batter of the first batch of flapjacks, that he and his husband of over a decade haven’t had a date night for three months.

Three! Ruddy! Months!

THat’s completely not on! especially considering that now that the twins have entered their terrible twos they’ve barely had any energy at all to go beyond furtive hand jobs and messy kisses in almost just as long. Sirius misses his bloody husband damn it!

“Daddy?” Angelica asks with owlish eyes from where she and her younger brother, Teddy, are standing on either side of him with their expectant plates in hand. “You look peaky.”

“Like you’re gonna puke,” Teddy tacks on helpfully, his ordinarily tawny curls turning a putrid shade of green just to emphasize his point. And Sirius silently reminds himself to tell Tonks off for teaching his kid such rude gestures once she gets back from her honeymoon with that Muggle bird of hers.

“Oi, you guys are going to make your old man feel like he’s the Hogwarts squid if you keep on.” Sirius tells them with a soft tug on Angelica’s ponytail and a cluck of a tongue directed towards his son.

“You’re father’s probably still just getting use to the time difference after getting back from the states.”

Sirius straightens up— pulse spiking in that way it always has around Remus ever since they had first begun to go out as fifth years— and spots him padding into the kitchen, beautifully sleep rumpled and cradling a babbling Maeve in one arm, while her twin, Matthew, toddles along side them with a meaty thumb in his mouth. Though he immediately begins sprinting towards Sirius once realizing that he’s finally home from teaching those Americans the newly enhanced defense tactics that the British Aurors have been utilizing to successful degrees.

“THere’s my Matty,” he crows, lifting him up in the air and blowing a raspberry into his belly while the toddler squawks with glee.

“Daddy home! Daddy! Daddy!”

“And he brings with him enough noise to rival the frog choir,” Remus notes absently.

Sirius waggles his tongue over at him, heart stuttering when he watches the morning sun spilling through the wide partition and unspooling golden in Remus’s hair. “You need it, gorgeous, considering you couldn’t wake up to your own ruddy alarm.”

Remus smiles in that abashed way that’s always been more devious than most give him credit for, “It’s the seventh year Ravenclaws, I think they will actually end up giving me an aneurism with how much extra they write in the essays.”

“Alas, I’m too pretty to be a widow,” Sirius sighs, tossing Matthew up in the air once more and cradling him into his arm before walking over to Remus and dipping down to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I’ve missed you.”

“You could’ve woken me up you know,” Remus mumbles, shifting from foot to foot while sliding Maeve into her high chair. “The moon’s not til tomorrow night.”

Sirius ducks his head, scratching the back of it with appropriate diffidence. “I just didn’t want to disturb you, love.”

Remus doesn’t catch his eye as he begins to walk over to the counter and brings the other portions of the meal to the table, lips pinched and shoulders stiff. “I’m not a total invalid, Sirius. I could welcome my husband home after a week apart.”

“What’s that mean, Tad?” Teddy asks, oblivious to the undercurrent of hurt in his father’s tone and energetic as always while scrambling into his own seat around the breakfast nook, wide eyes glowing with that easy mirth that Sirius is thankful every day his children can feel without any lingering ghosts. “A, erm— In—valvid."

“It means your Tad’s a bit brassed off at me, Ted.” Sirius answers for him, affecting a light hearted cadence. "And that I better get round to finishing up breakfast or else he’ll give me that stiff upper lip of his.”

Remus pins him with a glare from over his shoulder while Sirius sets Matthew into his own seat besides his sister, but his features are softened and Sirius knows that it means he’s close to being forgiven.

“Daddy can I have blueberries in mine,” Angelica asks as he returns to the oven.

“Course, jellybean,” Sirius answers, adopting the pet name that Hope had called her granddaughter ever since they had brought her back from the hospital eight years ago. Sirius loved it even more once finding out that it was actually a reference to some sort of Muggle treat that Remus use to eat by the handfuls as a lad.

“OmyChocomydadzee,” Ted yells towards them with a wedge of cheese in his mouth before sticking his fork into the plate of sliced fruit so to waggle it in front of a giggling Maeve.

“Sorry, son, I don’t understand trollish. Or is that some sort of highly advanced Metamorphmagus language that your Aunty Dora has been teaching you on the sly that we lowly, ordinary wizards couldn’t possibly understand?”

Teddy rolls his bright eyes with a huff, swallowing down pointedly before speaking again. “Only chocolate in mine, just like Tad!”

“Manners, Ted, remember please and thank yous.” Remus says, long suffering as he eases down into his own seat and sips from the mug of coffee that Sirius had already prepared for him. “Though yes, I’d like mine to be chocolate too, Sirius, if you’re taking orders.”

Sirius grins indulgently at them before peering down to his eldest. “Angie darling, what shall we do with their teeth once they fall out from all that sugar?”

Angelica laughs glowingly, and Sirius brushes back her chestnut bangs with a reverent hand.”The snow warlock outdoors could use it since he’s only got a carrot nose after Matty ate the chocolate frogs we were s’pose to use for his smile.”

“Brilliant!”

After they’ve all eaten, Teddy and Angelica race outside to await the Potters amidst shouts of “Shut your trap,” from a peeved off Teddy every time Angelica taunts him over his crush on Effie, and the twins dig into their toy chest in the living room while Sirius and Remus spell away the mess that always ensues after a meal with the Lupin-Blacks.

“Andromeda wants us to bring the Christmas pudding this year,” Remus idly tells Sirius while he enchants the dishes to begin washing themselves with a graceful flick of his wand. Remus ordinarily prefers cleaning them by hand, so Sirius has an inkling that the impending full moon has already begun aching in his bones. Merlin’s saggy bollocks does he wish this new, experimental potion would just escape the bureaucracy of the Ministry so that the man who is his other half could at least have a small relief.

“Is that along with the wine and fresh cranberry sauce she’s asked for?” Sirius says, saddling up behind Remus, bending slightly so to nuzzle his nose along the hollow of his long neck.

“Mmm, she thought you might say that, and wanted to kindly remind you that she carried a set of twins for us when she was forty even though we promised that Ted would be the last sprog.”

“Pff, as if I’d let potter outdo us.”

“We definitely didn’t let that happen,” Remus snorts. “The twins and Pip will surely be the next generation Marauders, God save Minerva.”

“Exactly!” Sirius sneers, locking his arms around Remus’s torso. “Besides ’s not like it’s our fault Meda’s bloody eggs decided on a two for one deal.”

Remus stifles a laugh, leaning back into the embrace and setting his hand over Sirius’s where he’s begun thumbing small circles against his abdomen. “Yes, well if you’d like to have that argument with her?”

“Oh, she’s full of it. I know that the twins are her favorites, spoils them rotten I tell you Moons.”

“Well it’s hard not to with such cute faces,” Remus says, turning his head slightly so to peer over at the pair of them through the doorway. Maeve is munching on the leg of her barbie and Matthew is clashing together pieces of two completely contradictory puzzles. Sirius swears that his chest might implode with the love he feels for his chaotic, little family.

“Course they’re cute, Moons,” he says loftily instead of the incredibly sappy emotions that are flooding his insides. “They’re are kids, cute is in the genes.”

“Cocky bastard,” Remus snorts before turning around in his arms and kissing him full on the mouth. And yes, the sight of Remus curled around the latest essay he’s meant to be marking up with the baby monitor for the twins’s room clutched in his left fist, was an absolute heavenly sight, but Sirius thinks this more hands on approach is a much more appropriate welcome after dealing with an ocean between them and six nights apart.

“Mmm, does this mean I’m not in the dog house anymore?” Sirius asks hopefully, trailing a path of kisses along Remus’s jawline and stopping at the hinge where it meets his neck so to suck only slightly, reveling in the beautifully familiar taste of his husband.

“You were never in the dog house you daft mutt,” Remus reproves in a voice that could’ve been caustic if it weren’t for his words going breathy half way through and his hands clutching tightly onto Sirius’s shoulders. “’S just— Just… Nothing.”

Sirius feels his stomach twist, pulling off of him with a scowl set on his face, and refusing for Remus to just brush this aside, the way he’s always want to do instead of talking about anything that actually might be hurting him. Like he’s afraid that his sodding feelings are somehow a burden, the self-possessed bastard.

“Tell me,” he intones, brooking no arguments while he gently takes Remus’s face in hand so he can’t look away.

His gorgeous features twist up, indignant and mulish, but they relax almost just as quickly, a defense tactic that’s melt away almost completely after so long of being intwined with one another in the most intimate of ways.

“Sirius, there was a time that you could hardly keep your hands off of me after being away for less than half as long,” Remus tells him, voice wavering only slightly. “And I understand if it’s getting tiring having to parent around the moon’s schedule—“

“What the bloody fuck are you talking about,” Sirius really meant to listen to him all the way through, he did! But he can’t help just how furious he got at the sound of that absolutely ridiculous conclusion Remus has somehow conjured up in his impossible mind. Positively hates how this is still such a point of sensitivity Remus has when it regards to their relationship.

“Sirius—“

“Don’t be a completely idiotic arse, Lupin!” Sirius very nearly shouts, absolutely broiling. “You are the love of my life, and I wouldn’t change a single sodding thing about us! And I swear to Merlin or Morgana or whoever the fuck else, that if you begin speaking such rubbish again, I’ll have to lock you up in our bedroom, and show you just how intensely I mean that.”

Remus’s face has gone flushed throughout Sirius’s diatribe, and his hazel eyes twinkle with that adoring way of his that always makes Sirius’s heart lodge somewhere in his diaphragm. “Lupin-Black.”

“Pardon?”

“You called me Lupin, it’s Lupin-Black now, has been for quite a while.”

Sirius chuckles lowly, feeling his righteous anger deflate as he crowds Remus against the kitchen island and presses their foreheads together. “You done being a senseless sod then?”

Remus locks his hands around Sirius’s neck, kisses his cupids bow with a tender earnestness. “You still could’ve woken me up.”

“I just wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t be exhausted for tomorrow, love.” Sirius reiterates, kissing him with feeling before pulling apart once more. “Though if I’m being totally honest, I would’ve liked it if you could’ve wanked me off in hello.”

“That’s all you would’ve wanted?” Remus asks smugly, the tip of his index finger tracing idl patterns against Sirius’s neck.

“Mmm, don’t tease me, Moony.” Sirius tells him before sharing another snog. “I was just thinking earlier on that it’s been three ruddy months since I’ve had you to myself for the entire night.””

Remus’s smile brightens, “Oh yeah? You’ve missed that have you?” He bucks forwards, and Sirius can feel him pressed completely against his front.

“I think I might go mad very, very soon, Mssr Moony if we don’t correct this most awful of grievances.”

Remus laughs fondly, kissing the tip of his nose with a smile on his face. “Well I reckon that the twins are old enough to sleep through the night, and Grandma Lupin is always asking after them.”

Sirius brightens ten fold, “Really?”

“I’m sure the kids won’t mind spending an extended weekend on the Welsh coast.” Remus nods.

“Right, good. Yes! Let’s use that tellamabob thing.”

“But the kitchen’s still a mess.”

“Remus, please have mercy on me,” Sirius begs with his best pleading look until his husband finally relents in that worldweary way of his, even if it’s him who snatches Sirius’s wrist and drags him to that muggle contraption, an excited jittering to his grasp all the while.

Sirius is irrecoverably in love with such a bellend.

~*~

My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #REMUSXSIRIUS #SIRIUSXREMUS #HARRY POTTER SERIES #MARAUDERS #SPILT INK #SUGARPLUMS #Sweetest babes

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atlafan · 4 years

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Take it Slow - Part Forty-Two

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff and Smut.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

Harry wakes up feeling your butt shift against his pelvis. He opens is eyes slowly and sees you scrolling on your phone. You were reading something, but he couldn’t make out what. His head didn’t feel too bad, but he knew he drank too much. He felt so happy he had you to take care of him. He was also happy that your drama with Sarah had come to a close.

The arm that’s draped over you moves up from your stomach and to your breast. He presses his morning wood against you. He kisses on your neck and you wince.

“What’s wrong?”

“Spot’s a little tender.”

“M’sorry, did I hurt ya last night?”

“Didn’t hurt while you were doing it.” You turn onto your back so you can look at him. He gets a better look at it.

“Yikes, I’m sorry. I’ll, uh, cool it there for a bit.” He rests his head on your chest. He lightly plays with one of your piercings. “You have such a beautiful body, you know that?” You giggle and run your hand through his hair.

“Thanks babe.”

“You took care of me last night?”

“Mhm.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have drank that much.”

“It’s okay, you weren’t that difficult to take care of.”

“Are you sure?” He props himself to look at you. “Sometimes I can be a real goober.”

“Oh god.” You groan while he laughs.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t get over it. What a weird name for candy!”

“But they were good right?”

“Yeah I actually really liked ‘em.” He kisses your cheek. “Is there anythin’ we need to do today?”

“Grocery shop, laundry, other chores.” He groans.

“I hate cleanin’.”

“Well…you don’t really clean.” You stroke his cheek gently.

“Wha’? I clean.”

“And then I re-clean.” You smile. “I really don’t mind. I kinda like doing it myself. If you want maybe you could meal prep the lunches.”

“Deal. And I can do all the laundry.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that.” He moves to hover over you, and he kisses on the less tender side of your neck. Your phone starts to go off. It’s Niall.

“He can wait.”

“It could be important, Harry.” You swipe to answer the call. “Hey baby what’s shakin’?” Harry glares at you. He can hear Niall chuckling.

“He still in bed with ya?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re funny.”

“I’m aware. What’s up?”

“Do ya have plans later today?”

“Well it depends on when I finish all my chores and stuff, why?”

“Wanna come over for dinner?”

“Just moi?”

“Just toi! Sarah’s totally cool now.”

“Oh that’s great. Did you two have a good night?”

“Very good.”

“Yay! Okay sure I’d love to come for, shit, dinner.” Harry’s hand moved between your legs and started rubbing on your clit.

“You okay?”

“Mhm, I’ll text you later okay?”

“Alright, BYE WIFEY!”

“Bye hubby!” You hang up the phone and put it on the nightstand. “Very funny doing that while I’m on the phone.”

He moves your legs to wrap them around his waist.

“You know I don’t really like the husband/wife shit.”

“It’s just a joke, chill.” He nods.

“Hm, chill?”

“Yeah, chiiillllll.” He plunges two of his fingers into you. He smirks at your reaction. You tighten around him and moan out. You loved having sex in the morning, you were always way more stimulated. “Fuck.”

“So he invited you over tonight?”

“Harry please.”

“It’s a simple question.”

“I, fuck, don’t wanna think about him right now.”

“Good answer.”

He pumps in and out of you faster. You move your hips along with his fingers.

“Harry, please use your cock.” He pulls his fingers out of you completely.

“Nah, we gotta go grocery shoppin’.”

“What…what do you mean nah?”

“We have shit to do today, love.” He gets off of you and goes into the bathroom, leaving you there stunned. What in the actual fuck? Was he seriously edging you? He comes back out and smirks at you. “C’mon, time to start the day.” He starts getting dressed. You get out of bed, glaring at him.

You were completely frazzled. Not only did he deprive you of his dick, but he deprived you of an orgasm. Rude. You get dressed, and go through the shopping list on your phone. Harry throws a load into the wash before you leave. The car ride is quiet at first.

“Harry…you’re not mad that I’m hanging out with Niall tonight, are you? Would you have preferred I asked before agreeing?” You’re asking in a genuine tone. You didn’t want his feelings hurt.

“Not at all.” He places his hand on your thigh. “Want ya t’hang out with your friends. Why would you think I’m mad?”

“I don’t know…this morning…” You pinch your legs together.

“Left ya hangin’ did I?”

“Little bit.” He nods but doesn’t say anything else.

You get through your shopping. You clean up the kitchen while Harry flips the load of laundry. You turn some music on, and start mopping. Harry watches while you dance around with the mop. Next you dust and vacuum while he starts prepping your lunches for the week. It was a pretty good system. You really didn’t mind cleaning. You knew he wasn’t going to deep clean certain things. Plus, you loved when he cooked so you knew you’d enjoy your lunches even more this week.

“All done babe.” He says throwing the sponge back in the sink. You hug him and kiss him on the cheek.

“Thank you so much! I can’t wait to eat your delicious creation this week.” He wraps his arms around you.

“My pleasure. Thanks for cleanin’ everything else up.” He squishes his nose to yours and you giggle.

You tilt your head up to kiss him. You were still feeling sort of deprived from earlier, so you deepen the kiss. His hands slide down to your butt and kneads your cheeks. His eyes glance over to the clock. You feel him smirk against you.

“What?”

“Nothin’, you should get goin’, wouldn’t wanna keep hubby waitin’.”

“You are mad at me…”

“I promise I’m not. Go on, have fun.” He kisses you on the cheek.

“I don’t have to go right this second, we could-“

“Nah.” He shrugs and goes over to his desk. “I have some stuff I need to get done, love.” You sigh and grab your things.

“Alright, I’ll be back in a little while.”

You drive to Niall’s slightly annoyed. You knew exactly what Harry was doing to you. He wanted you to want it so bad it would be all you thought about while you were with Niall. Maybe you wouldn’t want to stay as long, or maybe he just wanted you to think of him the entire time. You ring Niall’s buzzer and he lets you up.

“Hey!” You both say at the same time and hug. You come in and hang your jacket up. “I ordered a pizza, know you don’t get to have real cheese too often.”

“God that sounds amazing.” You both get settled on the couch.

“Thought I would put that Wet Hot American Summer series on in the background while we chat. Haven’t watched that in a while, but it’s not somethin’ we need to pay attention to.”

“Good thinking.” He turns on Netflix and puts the show on.

“Okay, I want every single dirty detail, and I want it now. How was the first time?” You take a bite of the pizza.

“Where should I begin…”

You tell Niall everything, even down to Harry accidentally coming on your face. You both laugh hysterically about it. You tell him about the couple of times after that, and you laugh even harder when you talk about Niall walking in on you.

“That was so awkward.” You say.

“I felt terrible about it. Literally was the last thing I was expectin’.”

“So everything really is cool with you and Sarah now?”

“Yeah, we talked through a lot. She felt really bad for trying to ruin our friendship. She explained she just needed more reassurance, which I’m happy to give her.”

“Little Niall, in love.” You jostle the hair on his head.

“It’s a great feelin’ for sure.”

“And she was fine with giving up a date night to let you hang with me tonight?”

“Yeah, she said her and Rachel were going to hang out.”

“Oh good.”

“And Harry was okay with it?”

“Mhm. We got all of our Sunday chores out of the way today, so tomorrow we can do whatever.”

“So what’s he up to then?”

“Working, I think.”

“Do ya want anythin’ t’drink? I have tequila.”

“Yes please! Do you have anything to mix with it?”

“Orange juice work?”

“You bet!” He comes back with the drink. “Thanks.”

“Alright, so, I know we’ve both been busy so I’m assumin’ you haven’t watched the second season of You yet?”

“Nope.” You grin.

“Shall we take the opportunity to binge?”

“I don’t think we have a choice.” Niall pulls up the show, and you both get comfortable.

“The first season was so good, I hope this is a good follow up.”

“I’ve heard excellent reviews.”

Harry didn’t realize how much time had passed. He had ripped through a ton of his freelance work and had actually gotten caught up. When he looked at his watch and saw that it was nearly 9:30, he got a little worried. You said you were just going over for dinner. He didn’t think this would be a late night thing. It was Saturday night after all. He wanted to call to see when you’d be home, but he didn’t want to seem controlling.

You were on your third drink, and third episode. You knew it was getting late, but this is what you and Niall used to do all the time. You would binge entire seasons of shows together. You were also just enjoying the quality time. You guys had a lot of time together at work, but it was nice to not talk about work.

“I love the way this show is narrated.” He says.

“Me too! It really feels like someone’s inner thoughts. I also just like the way his voice sounds. The cadence is interesting.”

“Agreed.” You finish your drink. “Hey, could I have some water, I should probably start to sober up.”

“Sure!” Niall gets up and fills a glass for you. “Here ya are.”

“Thanks.”

“You know I can just drive you home?”

“I know, but then I’d have to come to get my car tomorrow and it’ll be a whole thing.”

“You could call Harry. Bet he would just uber over here, then he could drive your car back.”

“No, I don’t wanna bother him.” You sigh. “I don’t think he likes that we’re married.” He starts laughing.

“Harry? I never would’ve guessed.” He says facetiously. “Jesus, he’s not gonna start gettin’ all jealous now is he? We just got over all this drama.”

“I don’t know, he was acting weird earlier. I don’t think it’s jealousy, I think…I think it’s a territory thing.”

“Ohhh, yup, I could definitely see that. Something I’ve learned about him over the years is that once something is his, he doesn’t really like having to share it, even if that thing has someone else in their life.”

“So…he’s done this with other girlfriends?”

“No.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “M’talkin’ about Louis.”

“Oh! Like when him and El first got together?”

“Even when him and his ex were together. Harry got very territorial with him. But Lou was also territorial with Harry.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know really.” He shrugs. “They had this like big brother/little brother thing. They were just protective of each other. I also think, at the time, Harry couldn’t wrap his head around Louis only wanting to be with one girl since he was happy just hookin’ up.”

“You don’t think he’d try to tell us we couldn’t hang out, do you?”

“Nah. But I could see him making sure it’s known that you’re no one’s but his.”

“He knows that.”

“Yeah, but he wants to make sure everyone else knows that…I’ve told ya before, he’s sorta needy. Little bit clingy.”

“So I’ve noticed.” You smile.

“You don’t mind?”

“Honestly? No. I kind of like it. I’ve never been with someone who just likes everything about me the way he does. I think…he really sees a future with me.”

“And movin’ in together didn’t make ya realize that sooner?” He smirks and swat your hand at him.

“He’s just been dropping small comments lately. Like, for example, he mentioned how our potential new place had room to grow.”

“For like a dog?”

“That’s what he said when I asked him to clarify, but I think he meant for like a baby.”

“He loves babies.” He chuckles.

“I know! And then last night when he was drunk, I made a joke about something for the rest of my life or whatever, and he was like I hope so.” You sip on your water. “Like…does boy wanna marry me?” You giggle.

“Y/N, you really read too far into things. I don’t think he’s been thinkin’ about it yet…even if he has, so what? A lot of people get engaged after being with each other for a year, sometimes less. Oh! Like in I love you man, Peter and Zooey get engaged after only eight months and they’ve been livin’ together.”

“Oh my god, how cute of you to compare us to one of the best film couples of all time.” You put your hands over your heart. “We need to watch that movie again, I love it so much.”

“Maybe that could be our next double date! We could invite Rachel and Lora too.”

“If Harry and I get the apartment we could have a small house warming and watch it!”

“Why are we literally the two most brilliant people in the world?”

“This is why we’re mom and dad of the division, I swear to god.” You both laugh.

Around eleven you decide to call it a night. You were itching to get home to Harry. You were surprised he hadn’t texted you, but to be fair you hadn’t texted him. You help Niall clean everything up.

“Text me when ya get home.” He hugs you.

“Will do.” You hug him back. “Thanks for a fun night, love ya!”

“Love ya back!”

You key into your apartment. Harry was wrapped in a blanket on the sofa watching TV. You smile when you see him.

“Hi baby.” You say.

“Hi there.” You walk over and sit down next to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Have fun?”

“Mhm.”

“Didn’t think you’d be gone for so long.”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve texted you to check in. Time just got away from us.”

“What did you guys do?”

“Caught up on life. Then we binged the first few episodes of You season two. It’s really good so far. I can’t wait to keep watching. We’ll have to use our lunch breaks to keep watching together.”

“That’s all you guys did, sit and watch TV?”

“Mhm, we love watching TV together. We like to make insightful comments with each other.” He can smell the tequila on you.

“Did you drink?”

“A little, but don’t worry I sobered up. That’s why I’m home so late, I didn’t wanna be buzzed.”

“You could’ve called me.”

“I didn’t wanna bother you babe. What did you do tonight?”

“Got caught up on all my freelance shit.”

“That’s great!” You smile at him. “I appreciate you being so cool about me hanging out with him tonight. He really is one of my best friends, and I’ve missed spending alone time with him.”

“I get it, making time for friends is important. Just maybe next time could you let me know when you’re going to be home? I didn’t know if I should wait up or not, and then I got kinda worried.” He rubs the back of his neck. “But I also didn’t wanna call because I didn’t want you to think I was up your ass.”

“I’m sorry baby, I feel bad you were worried. I’ll definitely check in with you next time.” You yawn. “Are you ready for bed? I’m tired.”

“Sure. Did you, um, think of me at all tonight?”

“Course I did.” You kiss him, and get up. He follows you into the bedroom.

You go into the bathroom and do your nightly routine. When you come out Harry’s in the bed with his glasses on, an arm behind his head, and the other hand has his book in his hand. You notice it’s a new book. You get into bed.

“What’s this one about?” You tap the outside of the book.

“Oh, this is a good one. This is a friend’s to lovers story. I think I’ve read it like four times already. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Would you read it to me since you’re just starting it?”

“You’re going to fall asleep though, I’d want ya to be fully invested.”

“I’ll tell you what, I will sit up while you read, and if I feel really tired, I’ll let you know. I love when you read to me, please?” He chuckles

“Alright.” You shift to sit up against the headboard. “Ready?”

“Proceed.” He clears his throat.

“’They had been friends for as long as he could remember. They had been through everything together, he was even in her wedding party. Eric was the best friend Jane could have ever had. When her husband left her, he was right there for her. Being a single mom to a two year old was not easy. Eric often helped Jane out on the weekends. He would babysit so she could have some time to herself. He loved that child like it was his own.’”

You were hooked immediately. You loved the way the words fell from Harry’s lips. You couldn’t wait to learn more about Eric and Jane. When you hear Harry yawn you look over at him.

“Think that’s enough for tonight.” He dog ear’s the page he’s on, and puts the book on the night stand. He takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes. “What do you think so far?”

“I am invested.” You giggle. “Do you always reread books like that?”

“Sometimes. I get into these funks where I just miss the characters.”

“God, Harry, you are so sweet.” He turns off the light, and you lay on his chest. “Seriously, you are the cutest thing in the world.” You look up at him. “You’re so sensitive, it’s so sexy.” He feels his cock twitch.

“Really?”

“Mhm.” He rubs your back lightly. You move to straddle him, surprising him a little. “I mean, there’s a lot of sexy things about you.”

“Like what?” He plays innocent.

“Well, for starters, these lips.” You brush your thumb over his bottom lip. “So sexy.” He kisses your thumb. You move your other hand to stroke through his hair. “And your beautiful, soft hair? Incredibly sexy.” You make a fist and tug at it. The hand near his mouth slides down to his throat. You run your thumb over his Adam’s apple. “God, and that deep voice of yours? When you whisper in my ear…I mean, fuck, that’s sexy.”

He leans up and kisses you. There was nothing more he enjoyed than when you loved on him like this. He missed you all night, and you were totally making up for it. His hands move to cup your cheeks as the kiss deepens. Your hands flatten on his chest. Your tongues drag against each other and you moan against him. Your hips roll down on him, and his lift up to yours. You reach between the two of you, and grip his hard cock. You lift slightly, and guide him in. You both moan out at the contact. You slowly grind down on him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, and hide your face in his neck.

Harry’s hands move down to your hips, and grips you tightly. He helps you move up and down on him as he thrust ups into you. You could feel your forehead sweating against his neck. You were letting out small moans. He was getting in so deep from the way you were sitting on him. You kiss on his collarbone, and suck his skin into your mouth. He gasps at the sensation. He moves you faster on him. Your hands move to his hair. You were feeling so good.

“Harry.” You moan into his ear.

“Talk to me, angel.” One of his hands moves to your clit, and he rubs slow, sensual circles on it.

“You feel so good inside me.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Do you like how tight I am around you?”

“God, yes.” His head nearly rolls back as you continue to move together.

“You like fucking me like this?”

“Yes.” He says through gritted teeth.

“You make me feel so hot, Harry. I’m so fucking wet.” You tighten around him.

“Oh, fuck.” One of his hands moves to your back to press you as close as he possibly can.

“I love you so much, Harry. You’re the only person I ever want to fuck me.”

“Shit, shit, Y/N.” Harry shoots his come up inside you. Between the warmth from that and the way he’s rubbing on your clit, you release as well. “I…love…you too.” He breaths heavily. He presses his head into your shoulder.

You move your hands to tilt his head up. You make sinful eye contact and kiss passionately. He shifts the two of you so you’re lying on your back. You feel him getting hard again inside you. You wrap your legs around his waist, and rest your heels against his butt.

“You’re the only person I ever want to fuck.” He says into your ear. He takes both of your hands in his and lifts them above your head as he moves in and out of you. “You feel so good around me.”

This was some of the best sex you two had ever had. It was so passionate. You could feel the sweat pooling between both of your stomachs and it didn’t bother you at all.

“Keep talking, baby.” You moan.

“I’m going to fuck you into this mattress.” Jesus. “I’m going to have you screaming.” Oh god. “I’m going to have you begging me to never stop.” Mother of fuck.

Harry delivered on everything he said to you. You had sex four times. FOUR TIMES! You lost track of how many orgasms you had. He had you all over the bed. Eventually you just felt too raw to keep going. You both fell asleep with big smiles on your faces.

The next day it hurt to walk. You felt like if you even sneezed your vagina was going to fall out. It honestly felt like after the first time you ever had sex years ago. It also hurt extremely bad to pee. You wondered if your body would ever get used to the way Harry stretched you out.

He was walking on sunshine when he got up. He was enjoying your state of being way too much. He didn’t want you to be in pain of course, but he was very proud of his work. You were completely and utterly fucked for him, and knew it.

#harry styles #take it slow #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #harry styles y/n fic #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #posting it a little early for yall #i know it's a shorter part #but did we like?

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zankivich · 4 years

Text

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 14

a/n: i told you I wasn’t good at angst. 2-3 more chapters and then we out this bitch tbh. Hope you’re enjoying the final words. If there were ever a time to tell me you fuck with the fic this would probably be it tbh. I’m almost done. K bye. Also if you wouldn’t mind supporting at ko-fi that would be really dope. The kid is broke and has to go to grad school somehow.

*Shawn’s point of view*

He can’t sleep without her. Can’t eat or make music or workout. It all hurts. It hurts more than he could ever possibly imagine. And he couldn’t get the sound of her voice breaking when she told him it was over out of his head. She loved him. And he loved her. But it wasn’t enough. Losing her is like losing everything that ever mattered to him. It situates her differently in his mind. He thought that she was everything to him, but it wasn’t until he had to go without her that he actually knew what it meant and what it felt like. It was like she controlled his heart beat, his lungs, even his mind. Without her there to keep him going, it all feels pointless. And so he cries a lot more than he had in years, and he reminds himself that she had been the one to tell him to get over himself and get in touch with his emotions. She had showed him it wasn’t bad to feel, and yet she never could have prepared him for this.

He tortures himself with it too. He replays the words, remembers the exact cadence of her voice so soft and muted and full of hurt. It’s over. It doesn’t matter. Goodbye. He never in a million years could have seen this one coming. All that’s left is for it to kill him slowly by the hour, when he reflects on what it means to lose her. To be without her was like not existing at all, but with a shit ton more pain.

He’s lying in bed on another guilt trip when his bedroom door opens. It’s Tiffany this time instead of his dad. It’s probably for the best. Given his current state, he surely would have lunged.

“Shawn,” She hummed softly. “It’s time to get out of bed.”

He cuddled her pillow a little closer to his chest and found that it didn’t smell like her anymore. And he had this moment where he wondered if this was the beginning of the end. Would he start to lose the parts of her that meant the most to him, that had become so salient? Would it be like she was never here at all? His chest tightened considerably and his eyes watered.

“No.” He mumbled.

“Look I--I’m not quite sure what’s going on here, or why your father has suddenly had a change in heart but...I’m here to take you to your contract signing, Shawn. This is literally everything that you’ve dreamed up for your entire life. Everything changes today, if you just get out of bed.”

The only thing he can think of is the last night he stayed over at her place. He played her a song he wrote about her. He kept messing it up because he didn’t wanna look away from her, but his fingers hadn’t quite memorized the chords yet. Everytime he messed up, he would just smile at her and eventually she asked him what he was doing. He told her:

I can’t help but look at you when we’re in a room together. I wanna always be looking at you, honey.

“I’m not signing, Tiff.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Tell dad I’m not signing and on top of that I quit.”

“Shawn. Now look I understand you’re upset but you need to be very strategic about what your next move is, here! You know what your father is capable of.”

His eyes drifted over to his nightstand where the watch that she bought him for christmas still sat. He’d never been clearer about anything in his whole life.

“Look I’m sorry he made you drive all the way over here, but my stance is final. Fuck his money, fuck his power, and fuck him. I want out.” He whispered tears threatening to choke him again.

He closes his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He can’t take it anymore.

“He’s already taken everything that matters. He can’t hurt me anymore.”

He rolled over away from her, glaring angrily at the wall until the sound of his apartment door closing rang in his ears. He goes back to counting the minutes without her. It isn’t enough to keep him preoccupied from the longing.

***

*y/n’s point of view*

It doesn’t feel the same. None of it. Your sheets are too rough. The shower is too cold. The eggs you make in the morning don’t taste the same. It’s lonely. Like devastatingly lonely. His curls don’t tickle your neck with morning kisses. You can’t hear him play guitar on the couch while you shower. His cologne doesn’t dominate your bedroom. It’s like he’s not there, and it’s like maybe he never was.

It is...so incredibly painful at first. You can’t even breathe without sobbing. But the worst part is that even when the tears dry, he’s still not there. And all you’re left with is a world that feels a little duller. Perhaps that’s the worst part. It’s not a catastrophe. No one’s died. No one’s in harm’s way. So the world keeps turning and everyone keeps living while inside you’re breaking down. Despite your world being absolutely rocked in every sense of the word, everyone else continued on as if nothing had ever happened.

You’ve got nothing that matters before you anymore. It’s not until you wake up one morning and you skip a flight to meet with Normani in Brazil that you realize the most painful thing of all. He had meant more to you than anything else, even your career, even the power, and the work. The day you’d rather lie at home missing him than working, is the day that you know you lost the most important thing in your whole entire world. And worse than that, you’d had the audacity to give him up for free. To a white man nonetheless. Your ancestors were surely singing negro spirituals from the skies.

The worst part is the waiting, because you weren’t quite sure what you were waiting for. Would they start with a single? Or perhaps a photoshoot? An interview on one of the Jimmys. You knew what you would’ve done, but Manny had a completely different style when it came to management and roll out. If Shawn was signed, he was going to take the media by storm without a doubt. The girls would certainly love him. Hell so would the gays and the non-binary folks too. He was so cute and fluffy. Your cute and fluffy! But not anymore. Somehow you had walked into your office ready to fight the whole world if it meant the two of you got to stay together. Not so much.

The fact that Tiana manages to get into your apartment must mean things are bad. She had a key to your apartment the way an assistant that makes your life run should. However you had an unspoken rule between the two of you that she shouldn’t enter your space without you knowing. Everyone knew how important your space was to you, how much being home needed to exist outside of work. For her to enter unannounced probably meant she thought you were dead. If only it were that simple.

The door slid open interrupting the mood of playing a playlist that Shawn had made for you back in a time where there hadn’t been a world of space between the two of you.

“Oh sis…” Tiana whimpered. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

You rolled your eyes into your pillow. “Well get a good look. It’s probably my permanent state.”

“Is this...is this a playlist he made you? Baby that is some middle school shit. We have to snap you out of it.”

Tiana slipped off her shoes and crawled into bed with you. You almost mounted a fight, afraid that she might take away the last of the smell of him. But then you remember that smell had left long ago. So, you fall a little more pathetically into her arms.

“I don’t wanna snap out of it, Ti. I don’t wanna lose what little I have left.” You whispered.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I deserve to mourn him.”

She snorted. “Y/n, he didn’t die.”

“No, that’s not...I mean I get to mourn what we were. It was--it was the best thing I ever had. And I lost it. I had to give it up so that he could be everything he’s ever wanted, and that means something. I get to hold onto it okay? Don’t take that away from me too. I already lost him, don’t make me lose him all over again.”

You could hear the lack of life in your voice in your own ears. And if the look of worry on her face is anything to go off, it must not be good. But it hurts too much for you to care.

“Okay. Okay, we can be alright with that.”

You nodded and snuggled a little deeper into her arms. She held for a while in silence. And it didn’t necessarily make you feel better, but it was nice to not have to shoulder the weight alone for a little while. If only for a little while.

***

You’re back at work the first time he reaches out. Work is still work and it still matters and you still love it. It’s just that you don’t get to take lunch breaks with him anymore. You don’t get the random phone calls to get you through the afternoon, or the dinner plans to look forward to at the end of the day. And it’s not the prospect of being with someone. It’s not being lonely versus being with someone. It’s him. You miss him. His laugh. That damn chest hair when he shows more cleavage than you did. The gravelly sound of his voice in the morning. And the way that he’d rather hold you in bed for hours than do anything else. You had never been loved so vastly and so wholesomely in your life. And here you were just trying to get by without it.

Your phone goes off while you’re in a branding meeting for fragrances. The only reason you paid any attention to it at all was because...it was a branding meeting for fragrances. Honeslty, who the fuck cares? When your eyes trail down to the notification in your lap and see his name you jump. It’s completely erratic, and you couldn’t explain it if you tried. Your heart rate spikes and your stomach is just as fluttery as ever. If there had ever been even the inkling that you could get over this fool, that quickly went straight out the window along with apparently any impulse that might stop you from opening it.

Shawn: Hi.

Shawn: idk if there’s like a rule somewhere that tells me how many days I’m supposed to go before being able to talk to you again. Is there a rule?

You shouldn’t answer. It went against everything that you’d said to yourself when you made the decision to leave. There had to be a clean break, or neither of you would make it out whole. You couldn’t answer him. You couldn’t.

y/n: I don’t think there’s a rule. But it’s probably not a good idea.

Shawn: Yea probably. It’s just that I walked past your favorite coffee shop today, and I went inside and bought you a dirty chai only to walk out and realized I couldn’t bring it to you.

There’s a sharp inhale as you try to breathe through the pain of a memory that might never be forgotten. It’s dumb. It’s coffee. Except for nothing is just anything with him. Coffee isn’t just coffee. It’s mornings waking up to him crawling into bed with you and handing you the cup because it’s the only free time in your schedule for the day. It’s shared bagels and fruit and kissing each other on the way out the door to go your separate ways. It’s adventures on the saturday mornings to find a coffee shop you haven’t been to before. It’s a whole slice of your life together that just doesn’t exist anymore.

Shawn: And then I spent the next two and a half hours of my life writing a song about how pissed I was at dirty chai. And instead of being mad at myself for wasting my life away I thought I could just talk to you instead.

You laughed, as he no doubt expected, and had to apologize to all the professional business people for not being professional at all. But hey, it was funny. And it was the first time you got to laugh since he left. Or you sent him away.

y/n: you’re gonna get me in trouble. I’m in a meeting, I can’t laugh.

Shawn: fuck them. I miss you. I just wanted you to know that. I miss you so much.

y/n: I miss you too. More than you can even imagine.

You end up in the bathroom in the middle of the day crying your eyes out. You don’t text each other again.

*Shawn’s point of view*

He gets called into his dad’s office more times than he can count. And first he says fuck it. Fuck him. Fuck his money. Fuck everything. But then his card gets declined at the gas station, and he figures it was time for daddy to finally pull the strings. The least he could do was go meet the prick physically to watch him do it.

He shows up in skinny jeans and an old gym t-shirt just to piss the guy off. His dad had never liked him in anything less than a hand tailored suit, and the thought of pissing him off one final time was too good to pass up.

Tiffany is waiting for him just like always when he gets there only this time she’s a little less than her perfectly controlled self. Her fingers twitch at her sides as she walks him back toward his father’s office, her face anxious and stressed.

“Tiff,” He attempted a weak version of a smile. “How are you?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t been this stressed at this job since your father told P Diddy to go fuck himself with a twenty-five thousand dollar bottle of scotch in his hand.”

“Yea? Well I’ll be out of your hair shortly and then things should go back to normal.”

“Shawn he...he’s pulling out all the stops. He has zero intentions of letting you leave.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Huh? He really thinks he can convince me to stay?”

“Yea he does. Please just...don’t give him a heart attack okay?” She asked as they stopped at the door.

He snorted and pulled harshly at the door without knocking.

“No promises, Tiff.”

In his office, his father is still just as pristine as always. He’s wearing a suit and standing at the ceiling to floor length windows of his office, hands in his pockets looking out like he’s contemplating the world. What a douche. It’s gross.

“You wanted to see me?” He sighed already over this conversation.

His dad turned to him and smiled for the first time since he was probably an infant.

“My boy! Why don’t you have a seat? Can I get you anything? Water, that kombucha shit you kids are into nowadays?”

“No, dad. I’m not interested. Why don’t you explain to me what part of my resignation wasn’t concrete enough. Tell me how I can make it clearer for you.”

His dad snorted. “Well of course you can’t quit.”

“...No I--I very much can. And I did dad. I no longer work for you. You don’t own me anymore.”

“Oh for christ’s sake, Shawn! You’re always trying to make me out to be some horrible villain.” He rolled his eyes taking a seat at his desk. “It’s very unoriginal.”

His eyes widened. “That’s only because you’re like the most evil bastard I’ve ever met in my entire life! You make darth vader look like a fucking kitten in comparison.”

His dad merely sniffed and looked at him as if to ask, “Are you done?”

And then he asked, “Are you done? Will you sit down now so I can tell you how I’m going to fix it?”

“This oughta be rich.”

He plopped down in the chair in front of his desk and leaned his chin on his hand in boredom.

“Now...I am going to get you set up in a studio next week. It’s already confirmed. Any producer you want, any collaboration you want, I’ve got it all handled.” He explained pushing a folder across the desk. “Open it. It’s the complete total package. I will have you at the top of the charts in less than a month. With your voice and your lyrics, and my power, you’ll be a force to be reckoned with.”

He stared down at the folder with zero inclination of picking it up. The story was tired. He didn’t need to be at the top of the charts. All he’d ever asked for was to be treated like a decent human being. His dad has never been able to give him that. And as much as he loved music, if it meant giving up y/n the dream wasn’t even the same without her. Everything that he wanted in life had drastically shifted. There was a hole in his life now and he knew that money and music and material shit wasn’t going to fill it. So what was the point?

“What about Khalid? Can you get me Khalid?” He asked.

His dad’s face quickly began to redden.

“What about Normani? Can I collab with her?” He continued. “Oh or what about Ariana? She’s fucking huge isn’t she?”

His dad bit his lip and took a deep breath to contain himself. This was usually the moment when he started throwing things.

“Be reasonable, Shawn.” Manny hissed.

“Me be reasonable? You convince my girlfriend to break up with me and you want me to be reasonable?! Fuck you!”

His blood boiled. His skin felt hot and his heart hammered in his chest. He wiped his hands over his face just to stop himself from spitting. He hated him. He really, really fucking hated him in a way he hadn’t thought possible. His dad had always prioritized his own self interest over everything else, but never had he ever been so vindictive to him. Never had he so viciously snatched away happiness from him.

y/n loved him. She loved him more than maybe anyone had been loved before, at least that’s the way she made him feel. He used to think that losing music was the most painful thing he’d ever experienced in his whole life. But to lose her? Her? It destroyed him. Endlessly.

“You’ve got to get the fuck over her!” His dad roared hopping out of his seat. “You’ve heard the saying, don’t shit where you eat? Well I’m here to tell you you don’t fuck where you eat neither kid,’specially not someone who could be the help! Now I hand you your fucking life’s work on a silver platter and you think you can talk down to me? Cuss at me? You little shit, I made you!”

“Did you...Was that a racist comment against her?” His voice trailed off.

His father huffed. “Oh don’t be such a snowflake Shawn, I raised you better.”

“Did you just compare the greatest thing that ever happened to me to the help?!”

“You gonna pick that bitch over your own family?! I don’t know what kind of spell she has over you, but it ends. Now! I am your meal ticket in this industry and in this world. You fuck with me and it’s over do you hear that? Your apartment. Your cars. Those fucking jeans on your waist. You are mine. Now you can either get with the fucking picture and grow the fuck up from your fairytale bullshit, or I can make a call and you’ll be out on your ass. Do I make myself clear?”

It’s amazing how one person in your life can put it all into perspective, how she could completely shake his whole entire world. It wasn’t a matter of choosing. It wasn’t his dad or y/n. It was choosing himself and his own happiness and his own freedom. Every day spent working for his dad was a day not living a life for him, but a day spent directly towards his dad’s own self-interest. It just so happens that nothing in the world could make it easier than hearing the way that he talks about her.

He gets out of his seat and bites so hard at his lip that blood hits his tongue. But it’s the only thing that’s gonna keep him from knocking the shit out of him, so it’s worth it.

“You’re not worth a damn, you know that?”

His dad blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t excuse shit. I’d rather never sing a single fucking note than give you anything ever again. That woman has more heart and more talent and more balls than either of us combined. You think you’re some tough guy because of your money? Look around dad, no one gives a fuck! At the end of the day you’re gonna die alone and miserable, and if I keep following your lead, I will too. I’m done. Get it? Fucking done.”

He shoved his chair out of the way and headed straight for the door, his dad’s yells and screams finally rolling off his back without care.

“You walk out of this room and you’re finished!”

He paused and turned back to his dad, fingers gripping tightly at the door handle.

“Just so we’re on the same page? You ever talk about her again like that and I won’t hesitate to beat the shit out of you. I hope we’re clear on that. Good bye.”

And that was the end of that.

***

She’s sitting on the edge of his countertop in the middle of his kitchen. It’s where she often would sit when he tried to cook meals for her, and vehemently failed. She’s in a big soft pink sweater that just lights up her skin in ways he couldn’t believe. She’s beautiful. She smiles at him and parts her legs for him to walk between; he does so willingly. The skin of her ankle traps him against the countertop pressed perfectly against her. He smiles.

“You don’t have to try to trap me. I’m already here.” He tells her.

“Good. Don’t go anywhere okay?”

He trails his fingers up her calves and presses closer to kiss her lips.

“Never. I’m here. Always.”

“Mmm. Me too.” She paused to kiss him again. “Always.”

He wakes up like being underwater for a really long time and finally coming to the surface. It’s disorienting to go from seeing her any minute of the day that he could, to only getting to be with her in his dreams. It sucks how bad it hurts. It sucks that he’d rather be asleep than awake, and how much he wishes he didn’t have to feel the pain of surfacing when the image of her is gone again. It just all sucks.

***

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like utter shit mate.” Niall grimaced.

He rolled his eyes and tugged at his hair in frustration. There wasn’t much he could afford to do was there? He was just sort of lost in it all.

“Is that why you invited me to lunch? To make fun of me? Cause I can happily go back to my bed.”

“Alright, alright, calm yourself Mendes. I invited you out here on account of two things. One, Ronnie told me he hooked you up with someone at Atlantic and you never called the guy. Now I’m sitting here thinking surely my Shawnie Boy isn’t a fucking idiot, is he? So that can’t be. And then two! I show up to listen to the final mastering of the album only for some pompous bloke to tell me you quit your job!” He exclaimed. “Now what the hell is going on?”

Niall leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms before staring him down in defiance. The funniest part was that Niall had the kindest, sweetest face in the world. Even though he was trying his hardest to seem angry and intimidating, he just seem really worried and flustered. Maybe it wasn’t funny. Maybe it was sad. Sad. Everything was sad.

He goes to tell his friend about the hell his life has become when two people walk up to their table. It’s a little girl no older than ten or eleven, with an older teenage guy with his hand on her shoulder. He’s probably sixteen or seventeen based off the acne and the look of utter boredom at the world. The little girl is hiding her face behind what looks to be a physical copy of Niall’s album. He hadn’t seen a real CD in years. Must be a hardcore fan.

“Go ahead. Ask him.” The guy asked in a tone just as bored as his demeanor.

She looks up at him with eyes so wide and sparkly that even teenage angst couldn’t defend against it. He sighed and pulled her closer against him.

“Look man she’s a really big fan of yours. Honestly. Like won’t listen to anything else besides you. Will you please do us all a favor and sign her CD?”

Niall turned to two of them and snorted happily. As far as fan encounters go, it’s probably one of the best ones you can get. He held his hand out politely and the little girl plopped the CD into his waiting hand before quickly covering her mouth with her hands. She remained silent.

“Well hello there. I’m Niall by the way. What’s your name darling?” He asked.

A squeal was just barely masked by her hands and Shawn could seen the teenage boy roll his eyes in a certain level of familiarity. Niall smiled at her and the squealing continued.

“Her name is Jenny.” Teenage boy answered on her behalf.

“Jenny. That’s a great name. Jenny I would love to sign this and take a picture for you if I could, but I need to hear your voice first. Can you talk to me please?”

Shawn watches the way they interact. Watches the selfie taking and the signing and the hug. The way she opens up to him and tells him how much she means to him. It reminds him a lot of listening to music at that age. Whether it was Ed Sheeran or John Mayer, music can often times feel like the only thing in the world that makes sense. And it made him feel whole and it made him feel loved and cared for, when no one could convince him of those facts. He had needed music for so much of his life, and it had given him a great deal of self-importance. In that moment he felt more connected to a ten year old girl than to anyone in the world. And it set his mind on a path that it hadn’t been in a very long time. A place he thought would never be an option again.

“You two have a nice day!” Niall smiled at the duo ran off.

Shawn was already tripping out of his chair and reaching into his wallet to pay for the meal they hadn’t eaten yet.

“Get up, let’s go.” He told Niall.

“Oiy! What the hell’s going on?”

“Dude, let’s go!!!”

***

Why can’t I quit when you break my heart open?

I need you more than I know

***

I know a girl, she's like a curse

We want each other, no one will break first

So many nights, trying to find someone new

They don't mean nothing compared to you

***

“That sounded incredible!” Niall called through the speaker.

Shawn shook his head and readjusted his headphones.

“Again, please? I wanna try it one more time.”

***

“Mate, I got someone I want you to meet!” Niall grinned. “Teddy this is Shawn. Shawn this is Teddy.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Teddy, aye?”

She grinned. “That simply is not the craziest thing about me in the slightest. I sure hope you can get over it.”

He shrugged. “Crazy? I can get down with crazy.”

“Oooo. This should be fun.”

***

“I don’t know, it’s like...maybe, maybe one day I could get to a place where it was worth trying again. I know realistically that’s a thing. But I can’t even imagine it. I can’t imagine anything that isn’t her.”

He takes another pull of the blunt she rolled for him and let’s his back hit against the bottom of the couch.

She nodded. “Great so write that. Write what it would be like if you found somebody new. We get the longing, we get the angsty I miss you shit. Write what it would be if you actually tried it though.”

He nods up at the ceiling, arms behind his head as the words start to formulate.

“Like . . . like loving her isn’t something I would ever be able do because it’s not--it’s not you. Because I had you, I don’t want anyone else.”

“Yes. That. Now write it, lover boy.” She sasses handing him a guitar.

***

They’re on a break standing outside the studio while Niall and one of the producers smoke. He hasn’t seen the sun in who knows how long. He’s been living in the studio, Niall putting up every dime for him to record. Every person that he works with, every hour that he spends making this thing is largely because of him. And he’ll never forget it. Somehow what means more to him than any of it is just how good of a friend he is.

“Why don’t you just call her mate?” He asked.

He was leaning against the side of the building peering up at the night sky. He still missed her so badly it hurt to think about. And all he’s been doing every day is thinking about it.

“I can’t.” He sighed. “I mean I--I could. I just...I wanna have something to show her. I want her to know that there was another option. If I try and get her back now, it will just look like I gave up my shot for her and she’d never be able to live with herself. I know her. This is...it’s the only way.”

Niall nodded and took another puff.

“And if it doesn’t work? Cause sometimes it doesn’t, ya know?”

“I know. If it doesn’t work than I tried on my own terms. And then it’s no one else’s fault but mine. Not hers’. Not my dad’s. Not yours. I just have to hope she’ll listen to me when my whole heart is on this record.”

“Well shit. It’s a hell of a plan man.”

****

He’s drunk. There’s no way around it. He’s drunk and tired and lonely a maybe a little horny too if he thought about it long enough. Niall, Teddy, and another producer got him hammered when he said he couldn’t write another song if you paid him. They probably meant for it to be inspiring, but really it had just rooted him in his sadness. So, he stumbled home and fell into bed and that was when it hit him.

“Hello?”

“You’re not here.” He mumbled into the dark.

“Shawn? What the hell is going on; it’s three am.”

He kicked his legs out on the bed and whined into his pillow.

“You’re not here! I’m drunk and I’m lonely and I want you to hold me. I want...I want you to tell me that no one gets to love you because they can’t do it like I can. I want you so bad. Why aren’t you here?”

She breathed deeply. Soulfully. It sounded heavy and full and like maybe it hurt for her to breathe the way it still did for him.

“Where are you right now? Are you safe?”

“I’m at my apartment... Y/n, I was getting kind of used to being someone you loved.”

She giggled and he had to roll over and shove his face into the mattress to keep from exploding at the sound. God could she get any cuter?!

“You didn’t write that one, superstar.”

“I wish I had.” He whispered. “Come over. Please? No wait, d--don’t. I’ll come to you. Let me come to you. I’d do that for you.”

“I think that’s a bad idea. You stay right there sir. You fall even more than normal when you’re drunk.”

He bit his lip and held the phone a little tighter against his ear.

“Yea. You used to catch me though. Why’d you let me fall?”

“Because...Because I knew you were gonna get to fly.” She sniffled. “And I didn’t want to be the reason that you never tried.”

He clutched at his chest, eyes closing. “Please don’t cry. I love you so much. Don’t cry.”

“I know. I know you do, and I knew you’d never let me go if I didn’t make you. I had to, Shawn.”

He shook his head, wishing more than anything that she was there so he could shake her and kiss her and flick her on the forehead.

“No. You didn’t. We could have made it work. I would have made anything work with you. You were it, ya know?”

So now she’s crying and he’s crying and her side of the bed is still cold and it doesn’t even smell like her anymore. And he’s just supposed to give up? He’s just supposed to do nothing? With this crazy ass beautiful woman who was the best thing to ever happen to him? Yea, not fucking likely.

***

*y/n’s point of view*

You were trying to reheat this amazing french onion soup your mother had sent you the recipe for. Your stomach growled as you ran the spoon through it as if to say: “bitch we simply must eat more.” Despite Tiana’s begging, you didn’t have the multi-pronged attack from Shawn and her to convince you to eat in the busy work day anymore. The doorbell rings and makes you burn yourself on the hot liquid causing you to curse and run your finger under some cold water. The doorbell rings again. And then a third, fourth, fith, and sixth time in quick succession. By the time you head towards the door whoever was behind it had taken to knocking aggressively as all hell instead.

“There better be somebody dying for you to be knocking on my door like--”

You yanked the door open only for six feet of Canadian headache to literally fall into your apartment and onto the floor. You know...like an idiot?

“Oh my god! Oh my god, what’s happening?!” You exclaimed.

You were sure the son of a bitch had been shot.

“Ran straight from the subway! Elevator too long! Took Stairs. Can’t breathe.” He wheezed.

“You….You ASSHOLE!” You screamed kicking him in the thigh. “I thought you were dying!”

“OW! Goddamn y/n, I thought I was too!”

He fell back against the floor and placed his hand over his heart working steadily to gain his breath.

“Why are you here Shawn!” You screeched. “Besides to give me a heart attack?!”

“Because! I need you to be my manager!”

And that is where you killed him.

Buy me a ko-fi???

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sparrowwritings · 4 years

Text

Writing Challenge Day Four: Waste

Day Three -- Masterpost -- Day Five

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

Rose froze in place. She quickly pocketed her stolen goods before turning to face her mother. “Nothing.” Basil’s advice whispered to her and she kept her gaze steady, as if she really was telling the truth.

Cadence Highbottle narrowed her green eyes. There was a tense moment where Rose was sure she was going to get her haul taken, when the older halfling just gave a deep sigh. “I don’t have time to deal with your shenanigans today. If you’re going to cause trouble, do it outside of the house.” In Rose’s shock, she realized that her mother’s long, blonde hair was done up in the elaborate braided hairstyle that she wore when there was business to be had that day. She literally didn’t have the time to scold her daughter.

Before the girl could scamper away, Cadence grabbed one of her arms firmly. “I mean it, I don’t want to hear even a squeak while the meeting’s going on. Understood?”

She squirmed a little, but eventually relented. “I got it, mom.”

“Good. Now where’d the other rascal run off to...” She muttered to herself. The minute that her arm was released, Rose took off to the nearest exit that led outside.

“What took so long?” Neola complained as Rose made her way to the border between the Highbottle and Beddye vineyards. Even accounting for dodging Willow, her dad, and the other workers in the fields, Rose was still late for their get together. There was a hole in the fence that separated the land--too small to be noticed by anyone on either side, but just big enough for a young halfling to crawl through. This was how one of the Beddye children was able to be on Highbottle land despite the ongoing rivalry between the families.

“Mom almost caught me while I was going out.” She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out one of the pastries she had grabbed from the kitchens. “Got us a snack, though.”

Neola rolled her eyes, but accepted the flakey, sugary treat. “She’s good at catching you, but not that good.” After spending a moment to eat and then lick her fingers, she asked the important question. “Think the fort’s still safe?”

“It’s gotta be. I saw Jack going out there with old blankets just yesterday.”

“Uuugh.” The shorter halfling girl dramatically leaned against the sturdy fence separating the land. Her curtain of auburn hair somehow stayed perfectly straight. A harsh contrast to Rose’s far messier bob of wavy brown. “I know we gotta share it since he’ll blab if we don’t, but if I wanted to be around a baby I’d bring Tezor along.”

Rose couldn’t help but giggle. “Don’t tell him he’s a baby to his face, he’ll just pout. And c’mon! He can be fun!”

“His dog can be fun, more like.” Neola pouted. Despite her complaints, she allowed herself to be taken by the hand to the fort.

Said fort was really a collection of scraps of wood put together as a small, vaguely square shape. It only resembled a building in that there were four walls and a couple of planks used for a roof. It was hidden among the bramble of as-yet untamed land that the Highbottles owned and thus all of the children who knew about it (all three of them) knew it wouldn’t live for very long. Still, there was a far shorter trek to the flimsy construction than there was to the cave at the edge of Vineshade that Neola and Rose stayed in most often. As a bonus, the girls could really pretend they were adventurers hiding out from all sorts of imagined baddies. If they were sitting down and ignored the sounds of workers in the field, that is.

Just like Rose had mentioned, there were indeed old blankets spread out on the floor of the fort as the girls made their way inside. Even the appearance of Jack and his puppy Spot were things that the two of them expected. What neither of them had predicted was that Rose’s older brother Basil would be there.

He gave a wide, lazy grin and waved at the girls. “Rosey! Neola! Care to join our party?”

Jack looked up from a paper he had been scribbling on and gave a dopey smile himself. “Yeah! Come join our party!” Spot, hearing how excited his master was, sprung up from his curled up position to bark his approval.

Rose blinked several times in confusion. “Basil? What’re you doing here?”

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” He took a couple of other pieces of paper and set them and some charcoal in the middle of the room. “It’ll be a tight squeeze, but the four--I mean five--of us should be able to hide out in here. Plus, we’re playing adventurer.”

“I’m a ranger!” Jack announced, proudly holding up his paper. On it was a crude drawing of what appeared to be an older Jack, with something large and with four legs and spots that must have been a bigger, older Spot. “We’re out hunting goblins!” The dog barked again and got down on his forepaws and wagged his tail.

“Well, resting before we go hunt goblins.” Basil indicated the fort. “Can’t fight them when you’re too tired.”

“You’re just saying that ‘cuz you’re gonna go sneak off and kill them yourself.” Jack frowned. “That’s what rogues do.”

“True! But! They can also wait for their party in case things go wrong. We wouldn’t want *that* right? So resting’s a good way to make sure the party’s all going to be safe.”

While the young boy contemplated his older brother’s logic, Rose finally got over her shock enough to realize what he was doing. “Weren’t you supposed to be at that meeting that mom’s going to today?”

To his credit, Basil’s lazy grin turned sheepish. “I didn’t really see the point in going. Feels like a waste of time when Reed’s going to take over when mom di--” He stopped himself, glanced at Jack and then clearly switched words. Both he and Spot tilted their heads at the same time. “Decides to step down. And Willow’s happy enough to keep up the vineyard forever, and Melody loves all the hard lifting work, and mom clearly wants YOU to be in charge of our marketing.” Rose made a face at that. “I know what she wants me to be, but I’m not so sure that that’s what I want to be, you know?” He stared off into the middle distance as he finished speaking.

Rose wasn’t sure what to make of it. There was a ring of truth to everything he was saying that hit her in a way that she wasn’t sure she liked. It felt...familiar, almost. She just hadn’t been able to put her feelings into words before. Before she could think too hard about it, Neola finally spoke up. “You’re already the best prankster around, Bas. You don’t need to be anything else.”

He blinked and then laughed like he wasn’t bothered by anything at all. “True! Very true!” He tapped at the papers on the floor. “You still haven’t told me what you’re bringing to the party, girls!”

Jack, his wide coppery eyes having refused to move from his brother until now, snapped out of his stupor. He also grinned, glad that the serious moment was over. “Yeah, we need more people! There might be a lot of goblins!”

Neola plopped down on her knees next to the paper nearest Basil and took one of the pieces of charcoal to get started. “I think I’ll be a fighter or maybe a wizard.” She paused in her sketch and frowned. “Do you think it’s possible to be both?”

Basil shrugged. “Maybe? We’ll work it out as we go.”

“What about you, Rosey?” Jack looked up at the still standing girl. “You wanna play?”

There was a lot churning in her head. What Basil said, her own feelings about her place in life, anything to do with adventuring...and then her eyes met her older brother’s. There weren't a lot of things that all of the Highbottle siblings shared, but Rose had a similar shade of brown eyes as Basil. So when he smiled and they warmed up considerably, she knew that her own were doing the same and she felt a little better.

“Yeah, I wanna play.” She sat down on the blanket with a plop. “So ranger, rogue, fighter/wizard...you guys are missing a healer.” Rose took her own piece of charcoal and started drawing. “I’ll be the cleric.”

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crysj88 · 3 years

Text

Phylax Ch. 5 Scare me Avengers x oc

Bennett woke to the familiar feeling of pins and needles, right hand completely asleep. She tried to soothe the nerves so she could sleep a little longer but something else was off. Her pulse felt off. Too many beats or the wrong cadence, something. Her right arm seemed to be pinned to the bed from the shoulder down. That would explain the “pins and needles”. A quick inspection gave the reason. Natalie was sound asleep snuggled into her side, using her shoulder for a pillow. The redhead seemed to fit there. The blonde didn’t really care to move but Tony would be knocking down her door any minute, so she needed to get ready to start the day. Unless he actually slept in although that was highly unlikely.

So began the debate: lay there until Natalie wakes up or try and slip out without waking her? As Bennett lay there debating Natalie snuggled closer. Red hair tickling her nose. Every cell in her body decided right then that it had no desire to move, so her mind was made up. She was getting up.

Sliding out of bed was harder than she thought. She tucked a pillow under the other woman’s head where her shoulder had been and forced herself to walk away. She grabbed a pair of track pants and tank top and headed down to the hotel gym to get in a morning run. Leaving a note for Tony so he wouldn’t wake up Natalie.

A quick stretch and she jumped on one of the treadmills. Plugging in a pair of headphones she started a playlist of instrumental music. Mainly rock covers done with violins and cellos but there were a few variations on classics and some epic movie themes. She started the machine slow to warm up her stiff muscles, the room was empty due to it being a few minutes before 5. She lost herself in the rhythm of her steps as the treadmill increased it’s pace. Taking in the music and trying to bleed off the last of the nightmare that still clung. This morning it wasn’t near as bad as normal. She could still remember and felt the guilt but curiosity outweighed all of that. Why didn't she slip into oblivion this time? What had pulled her back from that edge?

Then waking up with Rushman that close. Not that it was unpleasant. Just unexpected. She couldn’t entertain the thought of any relationship right now. Not even a crush. Not after Emily. Maybe not ever. She had told Jax she was taking a year to focus solely on herself and her career. No exceptions. No matter how exceptional Natalie Rushman was. Right?

Thicker pajamas tonight so she wouldn’t die of frostbite. That was the only solid decision she had made in the millions of thoughts bouncing around her head during her run, most involving her current roommate. But there were benefits to her sleeping with the room that cold so maybe just live with the shorts and t-shirt one more night.

When she made it back to the room the first thing Benn saw was Natalie’s sleepy smile. She must have woken up when Bennett opened the door. “Morning,” Natalie sounded as if she was still half asleep.

Bennett gave a soft laugh as Natalie burrowed back into the covers. She walked to the edge of the bed. “Good morning, Nat.” Bennett tugged the edge of the blanket back slightly and Natalie gave an irritated groan. “I hate to be the one to break it to you but we need to get up. Tony will be looking for me.” Natalie pulled the covers back over her head. “Alright, I am going to go shower and head down stairs to eat, if you want to join me.” Natalie peaked out from under the covers and Bennett blushed. “For breakfast. Down stairs. In the cafe.”

The redhead gave a mischievous smirk before ducking back under the sheets. “I will be ready by the time you get out,” her voice was muffled by the copious amount of blankets.

Bennett couldn’t help but smile. She went to her bag and grabbed the clothes she needed for the day along with the belt and thigh holster. A quick shower and a swipe of gel and she was ready to go.

When she stepped out the door she had to focus on not letting her jaw hit the floor. Natalie had changed as well. She now wore a form fitting dress that would be considered business attire and looked amazing. Bennett realized her jeans and fitted blazers would never stand up to the woman’s fashion. She would need better clothes if she ever got the chance to take Natalie out, but first she would have to get the guts to ask. Today she had opted for a Stark Industries t-shirt and flannel, knowing she would be heading to the track with Tony. Bennett noticed a fond smile grace the redheads lips. “What?”

“Nothing you just reminded me of a friend,” she shook her head. “Looks like something he would wear.”

“This isn’t my normal choice.” she tried to defend, lying through her teeth. “Tony said we were going to the track today, so I figured I didn’t wanna wear anything that I wouldn't wanna get grease on.” Stupid freakin accent.

“Relax,” she stepped in closer, “never said it was a bad look. You wear it much better than he does.” She reached up, straightening the collar of Benn’s shirt. “Come on, let’s go eat. I’m starving.” She smiled leading the blonde to the door.

Bennett grabbed her leather jacket on the way out. Trying to regulate her breathing again.

Bennett pulled out Natalie’s chair at the table before taking her own seat. Their orders were taken and put on Stark’s tab.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Natalie gave a sheepish smile. She read the confusion on Bennett’s face and decided to explain further. “When I woke up this morning I realized I hadn’t kept to my side of the bed. I was afraid I ran you off.”

“No, I got up early to go for a run. You didn’t bother me.”

“I prefer to sleep with lots of blankets and the room super cold, I guess I underestimated how cold it was going to get.” A soft blush dusted her cheeks as she admitted this.

“The big bad Russian got cold,” Bennett smiled.

“I wasn’t the only one, you were shaking too.” She saw Bennett’s expression faulter for just a second before resuming it’s normal grin.

“Yeah well next time we have to share you aren’t allowed to touch the thermostat.” Bennett thanked the waiter as he left their meals.

Natalie took the joke as a good sign. “You think we will have to room together again?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me.” She shrugged.

They continued talking through breakfast, that is until Tony walked around the corner. “Ladies, I trust you slept well.” He shot Bennett a wink.

“Just fine, Mr. Stark” Natalie responded for the both of them.

“Good to hear. Ms. Rushman I am going to have to steal Bennett for a while if you don’t mind.” He ruffled her hair. Bennett glared at him for the childish gesture. Making the gel hold was hard enough without his help.

“Of course, Mr. Stark. I have a few things to go over before Ms. Potts arrives. Where would you like me to set reservations for lunch?” She knew her job well.

“Anywhere in the resort you want, my treat.” He smiled at her. He dropped two gym bags in Bennet’s lap, “come on kid I reserved us a nearby boxing studio for the next couple of mornings.”

Reserved not a boxing ring but the whole school, of course. Bennett threw back the last of her orange juice, rolling her eyes at Tony. Natalie let out a soft chuckle. “See ya later, Nat” she said softly enough that she could hear but not Tony.

“Watch out for his sweep,” the redhead teased.

“That was a one time thing,” Bennett said, hurrying to catch up to Tony hearing her laugh again.

“So how was your night with your redhead?” Tony asked.

“Boss, you do realize it is my job to keep everyone safe. I can’t do that if I don’t even know who all is here” her voice was laced with irritation.

“Let me rephrase. How was she? You were all cuddly at breakfast, something had to happen.” She made no response. “Come on. She is the first woman you have looked at since Emily and I have literally had you in a room full of naked women and you never glanced at one of them.” Happy opened the car door for Tony.

“Ms. Rushman and I may become friends over time,” she replied coolly as she climbed in the other side of the car.

“Come on, Kid, we both know your redhead is hot as hell. You didn’t even try to make a move?” He questioned.

“Tony, she’s not my anything. She isn’t anything more than possibly a friend. I’m not ready for anything else. Nothing is going to happen between me and Nat.” Bennett felt the heat creep up the back of her neck and tamped it down, correcting herself. “Ms. Rushman.”

“Why not? You’re charming and charismatic, I would like to think I have been a good influence in that department. Besides she needs a reason to stay around, my assistants never seem to hang around very long.” Tony pulled the car up to an old brick building with a pair of boxing gloves painted on the side.

“I’m not ready for anything like that. As far as your assistants go maybe if you didn’t sleep with them and then forget them they would hang around. How did you manage to not run Pepper off?”

He seemed to think for a moment. “She never fell for my charm.”

“So she has brains and morals,” Bennett opened the door to the gym and followed Tony in.

“Or she’s gay but I highly doubt that.”

Bennett dropped their bags down on one of the benches and they began to stretch for the morning’s workout.

Bennett winced, she might have gone a little too hard on Tony. She noticed him slightly favoring his right leg. He made one too many "your redhead" comments and she kinda lost it. Which in the end only encouraged him that much more. So maybe she didn't feel too bad about his limp. They made sure to leave with enough time to shower and change before meeting Pepper.

Stepping off the elevators Tony and Bennett were immediately greeted by the sight of Pepper and Happy coming through the lobby doors.

Tensions seemed to rise more every time Pepper and Tony were in the same room. “Ms. Potts, good flight?” Bennett smiled at her friend.

“As always,” she greeted the girl warmly. Her face dropped suddenly.

“Mr. Stark, we have a few photographers here, if you and Ms. Potts wouldn’t mind.” Natalie entered the room turning the couple toward the few members of the press present.

Press appeased and the schedule set, Bennett followed Tony and Pepper around the corner. To keep away wandering eyes. “What is she doing here?” Pepper snapped.

“Assisting me. That’s what a personal assistant does correct?” Tony answered.

“Where did she stay?” Pepper was fuming.

“Here at the hotel with the rest of us. I had her book three rooms.” Tony’s nonchalance only made things worse.

“Yes I saw a double and two singles. If you had a single and I have a single and Bennett and Happy are sharing the double, where did Ms. Rushman sleep?” Her tone was accusatory and she stepped closer to Tony with every sentence.

Bennett had to stop a few people before they reached the hallway. Tony and Pepper fighting was the last publicity they needed.

“Actually,” Tony’s voice took on a self-righteous tone, “Happy and I split the double Natalie and Bennett shared one of the singles.”

Pepper didn’t have an immediate answer so Tony pushed past Benn headed toward the bar. Pepper followed only steps behind. Today was already more stressful than yesterday and it wasn’t even 10 o’clock yet. To make matters worse Justin Hammer sat only a few seats from Tony. Hammer ran a “rival” company. In the limited interaction Bennett had had with the man; he was just another Tony-Stark-wanna-be. They bantered back and forth for a time before Natalie came to let everyone know the table was ready.

Pepper started toward the table, Tony tapped Bennett’s shoulder saying he would be right back. He headed toward the restroom.

She watched Natalie as she and Pepper talked. Pepper made no secret what she thought of Natalie but as she watched them they appeared to be best friends. Either Pepper was a damn good actress or Natalie was charismatic as hell. The corners of Natalie’s lips quirked up in a smile and the blonde couldn’t stop hers from following the same path. Their eyes caught across the room, brown meeting green. Pepper followed her gaze and the two women shared a secret smile and a few whispers, before turning back to their work for the day.

Tony grabbed her bicep as he re-entered the restaurant. “Come on, Kid. Let’s go to the track.”

She nodded glancing over her shoulder at Natalie one more time as they left.

At the track Bennett's blood immediately started to race. The sound of the engines and the smell of the exhaust fumes was enough to kick her adrenaline into high gear. A race like this was a completely new experience and it was awesome. Standing with the pit crew she got a good look at the car before the race. It was a work of art, but then again Tony bought it. So that wasn't surprising. Tony walking onto the track in a racing suit was her first clue that something was off.

“What’s the use of having and owning a race car if you don’t drive it?” He tapped her shoulder with his helmet and climbed in the seat. “Boss, are you sure about this?” she grabbed the wheel.

“Absolutely not,” he called as he pulled into traffic with the other cars.

The first several turns of the race went great. After relaxing it was actually exhilarating watching Tony. She almost envied him.

The crowd cheered the racers on. Excitement grew as they neared the start of the second lap. That was when Bennett noticed one of the track officials walk onto the track. His suit began to burn and sizzle melting off him down to his waist. An arc reactor was strapped to his chest and he held two whips of pure energy. He sliced through the first car that crossed the line. Then made his way walking into traffic with purpose. It didn’t take long to figure out what that purpose was; Tony. He sliced through the front of Tony’s car and stalked after the car as it flipped across the road.

Tony managed to climb out of the car but he didn’t stand a chance against this man on his own. Not without Ironman. The man slapped the whips across the ground sending sparks flying. Knowing trouble was coming Bennett ducked behind a pillar and sent Happy a text “Tony needs the case.”

The space was secluded enough. Happy needed time. Tony needed a distraction. She ran a hand through her hair knowing she was going to regret this. Bennett took a deep breath and tapped the cuffs first to the pendent then to each other. When she saw the cuffs extended up her arms forming the bracers, she knew it was game time.

“You know,” her voice came out contorted. It didn't sound right, it was smoother with an almost musical quality. Tony could fix that later. “I thought dominatrix and archeology professors were the only ones that used whips anymore”

“This no concern you. Leave now.” Without even turning he flicked one of the whips in her direction. Side stepping she threw her left arm out in a block. The whip was longer than it appeared or she had misjudged the distance between her and the man as the end caught her in the chest. She inhaled sharply, eyes watering. This was gonna hurt a lot. “Sorry, but I can’t do that.”

He lashed one whip out followed immediately by the other. Bennett ducked one but the next hit wrapped up her arm burning wherever the bracer didn’t protect. He released her, kicking her across the track and stalking towards Tony. “Not much of a conversationalist, got it.”

She had another idea. He continued to slash at Tony. It was probably not a great idea but still an idea.

“Hey Grease Lightning, I said leave him alone.” Crap it was hard to make this voice sound intimidating. But it worked to a degree. The man turned his head and slung his whip towards her neck. She ducked, leaning back and let it reach its full extent before grabbing the tail with her gloved hand and jerking forward as hard as possible. As the man was pulled forward with the force, she chambered a kick in tight. As he flew forward she drove her heel into his stomach as deep as she could. Then spun out into another fighting stance. By this point Tony was back up.

The two kept the man busy. Bennett took as many hits for Tony as she could and prayed Happy would get here soon. “Aim everything at the straps,” Tony instructed.

From that point on every kick and every punch had one goal to loosen the straps holding the arc reactor in place. A well placed push kick had Tony tumbling across the ground.

Bennett rushed in. Whips are a ranged weapon. They are hard to attack with from point blank range. She got in tight and refused to let up. Wearing out his body or trying to. She managed to hit a few pressure points and thought she might have been getting the upper hand until she felt the whip wrap around her ankle. Her feet were ripped from underneath her and her head hit the asphalt. She felt the gash and knew there was blood.

The man grabbed her, lifting her from the ground by her neck and began to squeeze. He pulled her to his face. The smell of his putrid breath overwhelming her senses. “I told you to stay out of it little girl.” His grip tightened suddenly and she felt her trachea collapse. Followed by a few vertebrae sliding out of alignment. Her body went limp and he dropped her lifeless form.

Knowing you will survive doesn't take away all the fear. For a moment she considered death as she waited for her windpipe to fix itself.

At the sound of a car explosion she jumped and crawled back to her feet anxious to see a sign that Tony was alive. They were both against the fence, Tony and the man. She followed Tony’s gaze to see Happy speeding up the track towards them in the luxury car they were using while in Monaco. Happy must have gotten the text.

The Rolls slammed the man into the fence Tony leaping out of the way at the last moment. Bennett's ears were still ringing and she was a little out of it as she made her way to the others. She didn’t remember much other than getting Pepper from the car, to safety and telling Happy to follow as the two men fought.

Once she got several yards and several more concrete barriers between them and the fight, she had her first coherent thought. “Where’s Natalie?” They both looked confused. So she repeated the question. “Where is Natalie? She was with you two when I left.”

“I don’t know. She didn’t come with us. I’m not sure where she went. How do you even…” Pepper’s confusion seemed to clear slightly, and morph into anger, “Bennett?”

Bennett looked down seeing the bracers and remembering the rest of the costume that although invisible to her was still active. “Hey, Pep.” The authorities arrived to take the man away and Tony walked towards the others.

Pepper fixed him with a glare. "We are going home now." Vacation was over.

The police kept Tony at hand until he could speak to his attacker. Bennett waited at the station with him. When they came to lead him back he told Bennett to stay in the lobby. She reluctantly obeyed.

She paced the length of the room more times than she cared to count as she waited for Tony to return. As she turned to begin another lap, the door to the cells and offices was pulled open hitting the wall with a sharp crack.

Tony stalked by her and signalled for her to follow him to his car. Once buckled in they left for the airport where Pepper and the others would be waiting.

“Boss, who was that guy?”

“His name is Ivan Vanko. He claimed that the arc reactor was his father’s idea.”

Tony looked as confused as Bennett felt. “But it’s not.”

“No.”

“So what did he want? Notoriety?”

“He said...He wanted to take me down but he missed. We are fine, kid, don’t worry.” He gave her a smile.

There was more to the story she knew but she let it slide. “Is he going to be a threat anymore?”

“Nah, we are home free.” He revved the engine and sped the rest of the way to the air strip.

#The Avengers #Black Widow #Black widow imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #Tony Stark #Ironman #MCU #avengers imagine #original female character #phylax

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blushnote · 5 years

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literally love!!!!! ur writing!!! omg can i pls request video call sex with mingyu 🥺 when the call connects all he sees on screen is u in /his/ shirt and u slowly take it off to reveal the new lingerie u were gonna keep for when he came back..... then mutual masturbation! (p.s. overuse of “princess” “angel” “baby” petnames is absolutely acceptable)

↳ requested | 2.1k words

↳ mingyu smut

a/n: thank you so much! ngl, when i first read this ask i actually saw the light. this concept is everything… you have brought it to my attention and i love you.

you can’t stop fiddling with the powder blue hem of a t-shirt that mingyu had left behind at your apartment the last time he stayed the night. as you rub the soft fabric between your fingers, you inhale deeply, the fading scent of his cologne still woven into the stitching and nursing the slight anxiety that grovels at the pit of your stomach.

currently, you were connecting a video call with him at the opposite line. under casual circumstances you wouldn’t be this fidgety or nervous. but tonight, the atmosphere was different, the air was thick enough to be sliced with a butter knife and there was this dull, thrumming ache at the apex of your thighs that was like an itch needing to be scratched.

beneath the slippery fabric of mingyu’s t-shirt your frame was adorned with new lingerie, a marveling lace set that was a mild, sunrise shade of pink, embellished with an occasional tiny ribbon to which you felt somewhat like a birthday present waiting to be unwrapped. it was the first time you would reveal it to mingyu, and your heart was hammering.

suddenly, the laptop you had on the mattress as you sat criss-cross before the loading screen made a simple beeping noise. in a mere second, mingyu occupied the space, his smile wide and beaming, his white canines flashing against his rosy mouth. it was evident that he recently showered, the earthen curls of his hair a bit damp and fluffy.

“there you are, my beautiful princess,” he chuckled while pushing the long, brassy bangs from his eyes. “yeah, sorry for the wait, our concert ended later than expected. but– look at you! you’re always so patient with me. fuck, i really miss you so much baby.”

you feel your face flush with warmth. mingyu is sitting at a desk in the hotel room, in some swivel chair that you can hardly see behind his broad frame. you assume he’s already in his pajamas, though his attire is nothing more than a black t-shirt and loose, red shorts that ride a little up his firm thighs. you know you’re staring. it’s painfully obvious.

“y-yeah,” you stutter while snapping from your daze, plucking at the hem of his shirt again in a nervous tick, “i miss you even more. today wasn’t too tiring, was it?”

mingyu sinks back slightly and tucks an arm behind his head, puffing out his chest, “nah, it was okay. it’s only another day and then we leave for the airport. i’ll rest up on the plane.” his hand then falls back onto his lap and he smiles at you gently, the copper in his eyes softening, his voice low and sweet, “how was your day, baby? tell me, i’m curious.”

“um,” you start fidgeting again, and your gaze flits away from the camera, “it was nice. i, uh, went somewhere today, to the mall actually.”

mingyu quirks an eyebrow, “oh?” he hums. “did you get some new clothes, sweetheart?” he then brushes his hair back and grins almost knowingly. “even though i see you’re in my shirt. i wanted to wear it a couple days ago, but i’m glad i left it at your place, looks cute.”

“t-thanks,” you feel like your heart is going to pump out of your chest, “i did get new clothes too. do you… do you want to see them? i mean, it was actually meant for when you get back but i just– i didn’t really want to wait.”

your palms are clammy and your skin is burning. the anticipation of revealing your outfit to him lights a nervous fire in your belly, its embers beginning to seep into your blood as mingyu sets his chin on his fist and he smirks. never have you done something like this before. one part of you wants to be swallowed up, while the other is eager and needy.

a glimpse of his tongue swipes at his bottom lip before he nods, speaking in a tone that is saccharine but increasingly lustful.

“show me,” mingyu entreats, “what did you buy for me today, princess? let me see it, let me see what a pretty girl you are.”

you push the laptop a little ways back on the mattress so more of your body can be seen by the camera scope. uncrossing your legs, you instead move to sit on your knees, taking the powder blue hem of mingyu’s soft t-shirt in your hands and swallowing the heartbeat in your throat as best you could. his gaze has pierced you. slowly, you peel the fabric over the head.

as the shirt is dropped on the pillow next to you, mingyu leans back in his seat, his hands grasping the arms of the desk chair while his blunt nails dig into the hard plastic. you aren’t sure how to present yourself, so you just tug a pink strap further up your shoulder and tilt your head, gauging how his expression is darkened, like heavy storm clouds.

“do you like it?” you ask quietly, running your palm over the lace at your chest and squeezing slightly to see how the texture might feel to mingyu’s hands.

his sharp canines delve into the plump flesh of his bottom lip, sinking in deep as his eyes trace your body, positively fascinated and aroused. mingyu adores touring, but at that very moment there was no place he desired to be more than your bedroom, you sat in his lap, his hands warming your waist’s soft skin as he suckled bruises to the swell of your breasts.

“of course i like it,” mingyu rasps, feeling his length stiffen in his shorts, “so this was your plan, huh?” he scoffs. “do you know how bad i’ve been wanting to fuck you lately? do you know how difficult it is for me to go to rehearsal when i can only think about stretching you open and eating you out and making you gag on my fucking cock?”

gulping thickly, you press your thighs together as this molten, sweltering sensation pools at your core. his voice is deep and gravelly, you can almost feel the reverberations as though his words were against your ear or growled in a somewhat muffled fashion into your heat.

“it must be hard.” you comply while slowly beginning to spread your knees apart.

mingyu doesn’t resist. he groans as he grips the prominent outline of his length through his flimsy shorts, his bicep bulging as he squeezes himself for relief. you feel a little bit like the devil. you can read from his stern brow how desperately he yearns to be at your apartment just so his hands can massage every inch of your skin before he fucks you.

“it is,” mingyu sneers, his eyes glazed, watching you partially slide a pink strap down your shoulder and run teasing fingertips across a tiny lace garter belt at the thigh, “it’s so fucking hard sweetheart, especially when i have such a pretty girlfriend who dresses up just for me. can’t you show me a little more, baby? open your legs a bit? i want to see all of you.”

“o-okay,” you oblige, untucking your legs and spreading them in front of the camera.

as mingyu stares into the honeyed, glistening flesh of your core, a shiver splits down your spine and a realization clouds your head that nothing you have ever done has felt this intimate and dirty. he curses under his breath. before you can even slip a finger to brush across your folds, mingyu whines loudly like a desperate puppy and manages his cock out of his shorts. the size of him makes you momentarily dizzy and so completely aroused.

“f-fuck,” mingyu rumbles from his chest, his fist tightly suctioned around his length while he starts a pace pumping himself. “w-wider,” he demands, “open wider, baby, please.”

you do as he asks. your arm is trembling as you spread your legs wider apart, allowing mingyu enough room to imagine himself buried snug and deep between your thighs, his warm tongue probing at the soft, wet skin, eliciting your shaky exhales and encouraging, high-pitches whines. pearls of come slowly seep from his flushed head, though he just collects them with a calculated thumb and fucks into his hand with a new rigorousness.

once your fingers meddle at your core for the first time that evening, this intense satisfaction thunders into you like a bullet rain. you roll your sore clit between your fingers and scissor into the slick shininess of your opening, your arousal pooling continuously, sticky between your eager fingers. mingyu slams his fist down harder, his hips jolting up in a loud slap.

“h-how’re you so f-fucking wet?” mingyu pants, his head spinning, “i wanna t-taste you, p-princess, s-so b-bad. wanna t-taste you then c-come right inside you until you tell me n-no. will you let me, baby, my sweet girl, my little angel? will you let me f-fuck you as rough as i want when i’m back h-home?”

it feels like there’s a white current of electricity coursing through your veins as mingyu’s immoral words lap like velvet at your ears. swirling your fingertips in sporadic, clumsy movements at your clit, you nod automatically, knowing full-well there is nothing you crave more than for mingyu to bend you over every surface and eliminate his frustrations. and even though he’s already seen the pink ensemble, you wouldn’t mind wearing it again.

“mmhm–,” you respond, your cadence quivering, “i w-want you, m-mingyu.”

the tight, rough grunts that echo in his chest only further spur you to keep pleasuring yourself. he can’t tear his hooded gaze from between your thighs; he wants to have your legs hooked over his shoulders so he can be free to plunge his tongue as far into you as he can, he wants to feel how your body contorts as he pushes just the head of his cock into your walls, hearing your mewls of how he’s too big and you need a moment to adjust.

suddenly, your fingers find that perfect rhythm. they strike an unimaginable gold spot, so sensitive and amplifying of your ecstasy that you cry out and your back instantly arches. mingyu grinds his teeth together. he can hardly keep his eyes open while he twists his wrist sharply, feeling the strength of his orgasm creep up from behind the intense heat.

“g’nna come,” he growls, his head falling back against the rim of the chair, the amber skin of his neck shimmering and his adam’s apple taunt.

in a few more strokes, mingyu falls apart like a fragile pastry, thick, white ropes of come landing on his abdomen and his black shirt that had ridden up to reveal his hard stomach. he manages to watch your orgasm as well, how your thighs suction around your trembling, meek hand that pushes you into gentle whimpers and frail breathing. mingyu closes his eyes for a fleeting moment, moans gruffly your name while pumping out every drop.

“oh my god,” you squeak, shuffling onto your elbows and parting any stray strands of hair from your forehead, “you came so much.”

mingyu is still softly rubbing at his head, laughing drowsily as his come continues to bead through the lasting tremors of his orgasm.

“yeah, well, it’s all being wasted y’know,” he teases, “i think it looks better when it’s spilling out of you.”

“maybe,” you sigh as the warm, thrumming afterglow of such an intense orgasm encompasses you, “you’ll be home soon enough.”

“but i want to be home now,” mingyu juts out his bottom lip and pouts, “seriously baby, i miss you so much. how many days until we see each other again?”

you wince gingerly from sensitivity, though manage to sit up and reach for your phone that sits on the nightstand to check the date. once the lurid screen flashes against your face, you glance at the camera and sigh, “another week.”

mingyu melts back into the desk chair almost lifelessly, though he casts you a soft-hearted smile where his fangs glint against his pink mouth and the hair has sweetly slipped before his tender eyes.

“a week,” he ponders, “i guess i can do a week. especially if i know what i have to look forward to when we’re alone again.”

#seventeen scenarios #mingyu scenarios #seventeen smut #mingyu smut #seventeen fanfic #mingyu fanfic #seventeen imagines #mingyu imagines #svt fanfic #svt smut #i am literally DE*D in a DITCH

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pavlovers · 6 years

Text

thank you so much to @murobrown for tagging me to do this <33

Write down the next 10 songs that come up on shuffle and your favorite lyrics.

1. Blasphemous Rumours - Depeche Mode

hmm i dont wanna be obvious but the chorus on this song is so..yeah

I don't want to start any blasphemous rumours But I think that God's got a sick sense of humour And when I die I expect to find Him laughing

2. Over and Over and Over - Jack White

I think, therefore I die Anxiety and I, rolling down a mountain (Over and over)

3. The Crawl - Placebo

Don't go and lose your face At some stranger's place And don't forget to breathe And pay before you leave

4. Talk Tonight - Oasis

this was a bit harder since the lyrics are quite literal and personal to noel but,, the second verse is so damn sweet :’’’)

All your dreams are made Of strawberry lemonade And you make sure I eat today You take me walking To where you played When you were young

5. She’s A Lady - Pulp

MAMAMA MAMA MAMA MA OH SHE’S A LADY

I don't want to try too hard I don't want to wait too long I don't want to live alone With all this crap that pulls me down

6. You - Radiohead

You try at working out chaotic things And why should I believe myself, not you? It's like the world is going to end so soon And why should I believe myself?

7. A Dustland Fairytale - The Killers

Is there still magic in the midnight sun, Or did you leave it back in '61? In the cadence of a young man's eyes. Out where the dreams all hide

8. The Things You Do (To Me) - Mark Whalen

ok so i found this song when i was looking up the things you said by depeche mode on spotify, which prompted me to check out the one ep this dude has, and uh it’s pretty good! i would recommend looking it up if you’re into soft/smooth indie rock.

So I wouldn't be the one to talk, I never had the lips So I'll sit here all alone and Figure out my shit

9. And I Love Her - The Beatles

oh simple but still undeniably beautiful:

Bright are the stars that shine Dark is the sky I know this love of mine Will never die And I love her

10. Emily - Catfish and The Bottlemen

New York surprise me 21 and I need something To pick me up out of The company I run with

i’ll tag @teara-cotta @chellsketch @home-in-orbis @girl-with-the-mousy-hair @disappointed-diamond and @soulmatescoexist if they want to

#tag thing

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concussed-to-pieces · 6 years

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Activate

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Demon Kane/Female Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Oh good, it's time for no apologies again! We return to the City That Shows No Mercy, with a bit of a deviation from the norm when it comes to the title. More of a spin-off than anything else, really. Contains literal Big Red Machine!Kane. This is some Terminator nonsense. Tagging @toxiicpop, @oraclegazes and naturally, @hardcorewwetrash! Enjoy!

The Saloon

The Empire

ACTIVATE <3

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains graphic depictions of violence! Stay safe!]

You wiped the sweat off your brow and sighed heavily for the third time that night. The pile of trash bags didn’t seem to be getting any smaller and you were tired.

You finally saw your coworker lurch out the door into the alley and you smiled in relief, beckoning him over. “Hey, can you help m…me…” Your words died in your throat as the person stood to his full height and you realized no, that was not your coworker. “Oh. Uh, sorry to b-bother you.” You squeaked. The man, his face hidden by a deep hood, seemed to be looking at you.

You took a step back when he took a step forward, uncertain as to what his intentions were. Screaming for help didn’t usually garner any kind of response in this city, everyone was too scared of a Family trap to do anything. Maybe you could outrun him-

A large, gloved hand closed down on one of the trash bags and without a word, the massive man moved it to the dumpster. “Oh! You don’t have to help me, it’s okay. I thought you were the young man I work with, I-I’m sure you have more important things to do than give me a hand.” You were a little envious of the ease he had moving the bag, they were all so heavy to you! Why did Mr. Nakamura have to use contractor bags for everything?

The man looked towards you again, but that deep hood and the poor lighting in the alley hid his facial features well. You got the feeling that was intentional. Maybe he was from the Underground?

“A-Are you hungry? I can…I can get you some food. You really don’t have to help me.” You protested as he carried on moving the bags silently. “Okay just stay here, I’m--I’ll be right back.” You scrambled back into the store without waiting for a response, sure you weren’t going to get one anyway.

You had an extra sandwich sitting in the fridge, a little fancier than the average sandwich even though the lettuce was wilted. Grabbing a paper plate on your way by the counter, you hurried back outside.

The alley behind Strong Style appeared deserted at first, all the trash bags neatly deposited into the dumpster. “Hey, where did you go?” You asked loudly. “I brought you something!” A large form rose from the almost-pitch black beside the dumpster and you quickly held out the paper plate. “Here, you must have worked up an appetite moving all that stuff.” You offered, confused when he remained still. “C’mon, I have to finish closing up shop. And you have to eat this, otherwise it’ll go to waste!”

The man (you were assuming, anyhow) crept forward, seeming hesitant to come closer to the guttering light source over the door. He finally got within reach and eased the plate out of your hands, offering you a solemn nod. He was awfully bundled up for it being early June.

“Hey I…I’m sure you already know this, but there’s a guy named Mick who runs a soup kitchen. In case you can’t get a job for a little while and you need a good meal.” You kept your voice soft, unsure of how skittish he might be.

A single, greasy-looking lock of dark hair slipped out of the hood when he bent his head to eat the sandwich directly off the plate. You reached out instinctively to tuck it back behind his ear and only just caught yourself in time before he was glancing up at you again. At least, that’s what you thought he was doing. You were a little distracted by the hunk of paper plate in his mouth, hanging from between his teeth as he chewed and stared at you from the dark recesses of that hood. Suddenly, a blue-white light flickered from the area where his right eye should be, a weak flash of LED in the black. He flinched, taking a step back and shaking his head.

There was a high-pitched noise that made your ears ring and you shuddered, the reflex motion closing your eyes momentarily. When you opened them again, the man was gone. You heard a manhole cover clatter loudly in the relative quiet of the night. You wondered if you’d just witnessed one of the Family’s tricks.

But no, those usually ended in kidnappings. Or worse. So just a...strange occurrence.

…

It wasn’t hard to get used to strange occurrences in a city like this. Or rather, that’s what you told yourself after the fourth time you’d stumbled across the huge man in the alley. At this point you were basically expecting him. He held out his arms and you obliged him with the trash bag. He had a limp, you noticed abruptly. Did he always have a limp?

“Did you get hurt?” You asked, not really expecting an answer and not too surprised when you didn’t get one. “Right, I should have known. Bear traps.” His head snapped up at your joke and he tilted it to the side after a minute, appearing confused. “Ah, never mind big guy.” You waved it off, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Have you been going to Mick’s? Getting some of that spaghetti into you?”

He nodded slowly and you smiled, sitting down on the steps and patting the wood beside you.

“C’mere and sit for a minute? You seem like you could use a breather.” He shook his head wildly, that flickering blue-white light back again in the darkness of his hood. “What? I’m not gonna’ bite, man.” You huffed in annoyance. The LED was so bright it left afterimages in your vision whenever you looked away, and you almost thought you caught a glimpse of a face illuminated by the cool white glow.

He shook his head again, clutching his coat a little tighter to himself.

“Okay man, alright.” You relented. “Thanks for your help anyway, I guess. Even if you wanna’ act like I have rabies.”

“Sorry, thank…you.”

You almost toppled off the steps, barely grabbing the railing in time. “You can talk?!” He nodded again, one large, gloved hand easing you back onto the stairs. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He shrugged. “Don’t you shrug at me!” You glared up at him, “I have so many questions, no shrugging!”

“Can’t answer them.” He said curtly.

“You don’t even know what I was gonna’ ask!”

“I can guess.” The LED looked like an iris and pupil up close, rapidly contracting and expanding in the dim light.

“What’s your name?” You asked quickly.

He seemed startled, tilting his head to the side again. “Name.”

“Yeah, considering I’ve been calling you ‘man’ and ‘dude’ this whole time, I’d like to know your name.” You stressed the word.

“Can answer that.” He spoke with a strange, deliberate cadence, as though he had to think about which words to use. “Usually people ask something different.”

“Like what?”

“Where I come from.” A second of hesitation. “What...I am.”

“Well now I know what’s off-limits!” You replied cheerily, smile dimming a fraction as you processed what he had said. What I am. “So c’mon. What’s your name?”

“K-Kane.” He muttered, the LED blinking a few times. It seriously looked like an eye.

“What did you mean by ‘what I am’, Kane?”

He gestured at the hood. “I don’t look right. People ask questions.”

“Ah, so like. Hunchback of Notre Dame style.”

“Quasimodo.” He sounded exhausted. “I’m not as good-looking.”

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten, Kane?” You asked cautiously. He was leaning pretty heavily on the railing. He just shook his head in reply and you sighed. “Look, don’t go anywhere okay? I’ll be right back.”

You returned a few minutes later with a cup of cola and two extra sandwiches, whistling quietly to attract Kane’s attention. You wondered if the reason why he was so quick to hide was because of how he looked under that hood.

“Kane?” You called softly, “I brought food!”

There was a scuffling noise from the shadows by the dumpster, and a body crash-landed inches away from the stairs. It was a man all dressed in black and purple. An Acolyte. You yelped, almost dropping the plate and cup.

“Kane!” You said it louder now, unsure if he was alright. Another Acolyte slammed into the bricks on the opposite side of the alley, crumpling to the ground. “Kane!” You hopped from foot to foot, too scared to leave the tiny circle of light by the door. “Are you okay?” You asked fearfully as his familiar form emerged from the darkness.

He nodded, limping badly now. “Alright.” He pointed at the door. “You should go inside.” He said calmly.

“What? No way! You were just-”

“You should go inside.” He repeated, then, “Please.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me man!” You snapped in irritation. “You’re hurt! You’re limping! You were already limping before! You’re obviously hungry! Let me! Give you! These sandwiches!” You shoved the plate into his hands, all but growling as you crossed your arms and glared at him. “Don’t be such a martyr. Eat the damn food.” You scolded.

“You don’t understand.“ Kane began to say, the LED flaring bright for a split second after he put the plate and cup down on the steps. An arm wrapped around his neck from behind and you jumped back, screaming for your boss while Kane struggled with the Acolyte.

“Mr. Nakamura!” Shinsuke Nakamura, ever the drama king, kicked the door open instead of just using the handle. He proceeded to strike a fantastic pose on the stairs beside you while he accessed in the situation. “Mr. Nakamura, please! You have to help-”

“The big one.” Shinsuke interrupted you, raising an eyebrow. “Correct?”

“Yeah, how did you…?”

“Surveillance cameras.” Shinsuke gracefully slipped off the steps, circling the two struggling men. He lashed out with a vicious kick and you heard the dull crunch of bone as the Acolyte’s leg gave in. The man screamed, releasing Kane and flopping to the ground. Nakamura’s boot ended up pressed to his jaw, pinning him to the pavement. “Who sent you and why? I’ll break your skull.” Shinsuke said nonchalantly. Everything about your boss was either offhanded or hyper-dramatic, with no areas in-between.

“Fuck you.” The man spat up at him and Shinsuke sighed, seeming inconvenienced. He ground the heel of his boot against the man’s cheek, a savage grin crossing his face when the Acolyte squealed in pain.

“Let him go. I know who--” Kane paused to cough violently, still doubled over on the asphalt. “Here for me.”

“Yeah-o, but why.” Nakamura gave the whimpering Acolyte a hard look. “Not much fun when ‘Taker’s toys go missing and you have to track them down, is it?”

“Enough.” Kane implored the wiry man, tugging on his arm. “Let him go. He’ll just tell ‘Taker where I am anyway. You kill him and it’ll loose hell on you.”

“Run along to ‘Taker, rat.” Shinsuke growled, flourishing his leg and then retreating to the steps where you stood. “Did they hurt you?”

“N-No, I’m-”

“Good.” Nakamura rumpled your hair, his expression fond. “Get inside. Both of you.” He said pointedly, obviously noticing Kane try to slink off. “You can eat your sandwiches in there.”

Kane limped along behind you, seeming sullen even after he took up a spot on the counter and clumsily crammed one sandwich into the void of his hood.

Nakamura returned to the now-crowded back room with his personal toolbox, setting in on the counter beside Kane and opening it up. “You can head home, if you want.” He said dismissively to you. As though the man in front of him hadn’t been attacked minutes ago in the back alley.

You shook your head, your heart pounding. “What?! No way! Those guys could still be out there!”

“Nakamura, she can’t fight like we can.” Kane pointed out. Shinsuke paid him no mind, pulling up the right leg of Kane’s ragged pants to expose bare skin and…metal? You took a step back, making a noise of confusion before you realized how rude it would be to do so. The LED in Kane’s hood dimmed and he looked down at the plate in his lap. “Sorry.” He mumbled.

“No! No no, don’t apologize. I’m the one that should apologize, jeez. I didn’t mean to…to react like that. I’ve seen prosthetics before obviously. I’m still just jumpy.” You tried to explain, feeling awful for flinching the way you had.

Kane snorted. “Prosthetics. Yeah.” He grunted as Nakamura took a flathead screwdriver to the metal, the larger man slowly eating the other sandwich.

“Is your face…?” You trailed off, unsure of how to pose the question. Kane nodded curtly, saving you the trouble. “So that’s why you have the hood? And the gloves?”

Kane tugged the glove off of his right hand, displaying scarred skin with red metal shining through at his knuckles when he clenched his fist. “Everywhere.”

“He’s like a pet project.” Nakamura mused, seeming a little too pleased with himself as he tinkered with Kane’s leg. “Entertaining.”

Kane’s shoulders drooped visibly.

“Kane, where do you live?” You asked, sharper than you intended. A plan was starting to take shape in your brain.

“…Nowhere.” Kane continued to stare at his lap.

“Don’t waste your time. I keep saying he needs to come work for me, told him he could live back here like you did.” Shinsuke said, sounding wounded. “He refuses!”

“Mr. Nakamura, no offense, but you just said he was like a pet project. That’s not exactly something that would encourage me to stick around.” You grimaced.

“And she’s hit the nail on the head.” Kane grumbled, propping his chin up with his hand as Nakamura carried on straightening a piston. “You’re great for a fix, Shinsuke. But your bedside manner is shit.”

“You’ll see someday.” Shinsuke huffed, going for his best offended tone while he smeared a fresh layer of grease on the newly-repaired piston. “Gaskets are too loose. Need to order ones that fit.”

“The old ones have worked this long. I don’t have the money to justify that. They’ll hold a little longer.”

“If you keep running into-”

“There’s no helping that.” Kane interrupted the other man, sounding weary. “I want to leave.”

“No one like you leaves this city.” Nakamura murmured, almost like he was talking to himself.

“I’m going to leave.” Kane said stubbornly.

“If you were solar, I’d say go ahead. But you’re not. What happens if you run out somewhere? What happens if you break?” Nakamura shook his head. “Too dangerous.”

“I rust. I break. I slow down. That’s how it is.” Kane shifted uneasily on the counter. “I just…just once, I want to go past the city limits.” He shrugged. “Clawing my way out of the sewers took years. I don’t expect it to happen overnight. All I can do is weather the storm.”

“Come stay with me!” You burst out before you could stop yourself. Both men jumped, seeming to have forgotten that you were standing there.

“What?” Kane asked in confusion. Nakamura just appeared intrigued.

“C-Come…stay with me? My complex is on the outskirts. You…you can see past the city limits from my windows.” You swallowed hard but pressed on doggedly, “You’ll be safer once you’re inside, anyway. We all look out for each other. If something happens, you’ll have backup.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting into. There’s a reason I don’t live anywhere.” The larger man said. You would have been convinced, aside from the way his fists clenched on his thighs.

“Look. You need someplace to be where those black and purple jerks don’t have free rein. And I’m on the outskirts, so close you can see the trees.” You sang.

Kane’s head jerked up, the LED flickering and then almost blinding you. “You…trees?”

“Yeah. Trees.” You said smugly.

“You’re that close to-”

“Yep.”

“I’ll at least walk you home. So you’re safe.” Kane said finally. “They’ve been watching me. They’ll know you were feeding me. Going to Mick’s for food tends to cause trouble later.”

Your brow furrowed. Trouble?

“It’s a soup kitchen, you’d think that would be neutral ground.” Nakamura said, his tone peeved while he screwed the plating back into place.

“Oh, it is. But sooner or later you have to leave.” Kane eased down off the counter, gingerly testing his weight on his leg. “Alright. Let’s get moving before the night really sets in.”

…

Kane didn’t walk with you so much as tail you. You appreciated the thought, but having him lurk like Michael Myers wasn’t doing your nerves any favors.

You eventually turned around in the middle of the sidewalk and started towards him, vaguely amused by the way he back-peddled. “No, stop, knock it off.” You scolded, finally catching his sleeve. “Look, I get what you’re trying to do, but I promise we’re safe. Look at how well-lit the street is!”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want you getting hurt is all.”

“Shush. If they’re going to come after me I’d rather you were close by, instead of back a block whistling fucking Dixie.” You reasoned, boldly putting your arm through the crook of his elbow and tugging him up to walk beside you. “Look, it’s like we’re camouflaged now. We look totally normal.”

“I look like a homeless person and you look like a mechanic.”

“Which is pretty normal for this city.”

Kane constantly kept scanning your surroundings, head and shoulders twitching at every sound. “I don’t normally walk this close to the streetlights. Too dangerous.” He admitted after a minute had gone by. “I can't see well in bright light.”

“Hey, we’re almost there. It’s going to be fine.” You promised quietly. A battered sedan drove by, the driver shouting something and launching a can out the window. Kane just about jumped out of his skin at that and you latched down on his arm to keep him from bolting. “Easy, it’s okay. Just one of the local drunks.” You soothed, feeling him trembling even through his layers of clothing. “I’m right here. And that’s my building right there. I’ll make you some tea if you come inside.” You bargained, barely having to wait a second before Kane was nodding violently. “Okay. Do you need a second or are you alright to keep walking?”

“I…I’m okay.” He mumbled. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize!” You protested, punching in your code for the outside door. “Pull it shut behind you when you come in, sometimes it sticks.” You added, chuckling a little when Kane hastily yanked the door shut and then tested his weight against it to make sure it was fully closed. “It’s kind of a hike to my apartment, but I think it’s worth it.”

Kane silently followed you up the flights of stairs, going totally still behind you when you came across the kids of your neighbors sitting in the stairwell.

“Hey guys! Where’s Mom and Dad?” You asked curiously, noting with a sinking feeling that they both still had their backpacks from school on.

The older child shrugged. “Mom’s working, late shift. Dunno’ where Dad is.” The younger one stayed put on the stairs, uninterested in the whole situation.

“Okay…” You drew the word out. “One second.” You said to Kane, who pressed himself against the wall so you could go back down to the previous landing. “’Ey yo, Akam!” You shouted, hammering on their door. “Rezar! You guys home?”

“Woman, you trying to wake the building?” Akam sounded grumpy even through the door. You heard deadbolts slide and the door opened, revealing a tattooed young man built like a tank on the opposite side. “Yes, neighbor?” He asked sarcastically.

You hooked your thumb over your shoulder. “Duty calls.”

“Oh no, how long have you guys been out there?” Akam asked worriedly, his irritation seemingly forgotten as he beckoned the two kids down the stairs. “Mama working late again?”

“We didn’t want to bug you, Daddy says we shouldn’t.” The younger child said, rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, I already told you li’l bro, you’re more than welcome in our home. All you gotta’ do is knock. You guys hungry? Rezar is making dinner.” Akam gave you a worried look after he ushered the two children inside. “Dad’s at Hustle again?”

“He’s not here, at any rate.” You said softly. “If you can’t take them overnight, bring them either to me or Zayn and Owens. I have a friend staying over but I don’t mind if I need to have a few more guests.” You smiled up at Akam when you heard Rezar greet the kids. “Thank you.”

“It’s cool. Rezar has a late shift, but I’ll be up when their mama gets home. I wish their dad would just give ‘em a key though.” Akam grunted, raising an eyebrow. “Friend, huh?”

“Yep.” You replied cheerily, refusing to be ruffled by his inquisitive tone. “Have a good night, Akam. You too, Rezar!”

“I’m gonna’ kick their dad’s butt!” Rezar hollered in farewell, making you laugh and shake your head.

“Sorry about that.” You apologized to Kane, who just nodded and shifted his weight so you could squeeze past him again in the narrow stairwell. “They’re good kids. They don’t deserve a dad who doesn’t look after them.” You grumbled, unhooking your keys from your belt and unlocking your door. “Welcome to my humble abode.” You made a grand, sweeping gesture with your hand that took in the entirety of your meager apartment. “Are you still hungry? You kinda’ bolted those sandwiches earlier. Can I take your coat?”

“No.” Kane muttered, clutching the beaten fabric a little closer to his body. “Too cold without it.” He must have noticed your incredulous look, because he sighed heavily and then said, “It’s warmer in the Underground. Much, much warmer.”

“Gotcha’.” You replied slowly.

“I can’t…regulate my temperature well.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want some tea first? Or is a hot shower better?” You offered.

“God, I haven’t had a shower in…in a while.” Kane murmured, sounding wistful. “Rinse my face and hair at Mick’s, usually. Only so much of me that I can wash in an industrial sink.”

“Okay yeah, so a shower. And then some tea. And then bed. I’ll make up the sofa for you, alright?”

“I can’t stay here.” Kane protested.

“I think you can, man. Pretty sure. All you have to do is say yes. Look, I’ve got some bigger clothes, and my sweatshirts are all pretty baggy. I must have something that’ll fit you.” You were halfway across the room when you finished speaking, making a beeline for your closet. “I have like, bins of clothing, I will find something for you to wear. Hang tight.”

“I don’t understand you.” You could hear the suspicion in his voice. “Why help me?”

“Because you need it?” You replied, sticking your head back out of the closet to give him a serious look.

“You’re alone in your apartment with a stranger. You invited a strange man into your apartment. You live alone.” Kane pointed out, stating the obvious. The unspoken question was loud and clear, though.

Are you insane or too naïve to know better?

“I have two guys who I'm pretty sure are a literal SWAT team living downstairs. Somehow, I get the feeling they might throw down for me if things go south.” You said lightly, shaking the wrinkles out of an oversized hooded sweatshirt. “Here, this should fit. I’ll keep looking for pants.”

Kane simply stood there while you searched, holding the sweatshirt tightly. “No one has ever done this for me.” He finally murmured. “There’s been people like Nakamura that want to unbolt me, rummage around in my insides. Not…not offering me a place to stay because they can, but because they want something from me.” He shook his head. “Think I’ve talked more to you than I’ve talked to anyone else in my life.”

“Good! That means it’s working.” You stuck your head back out of the closet, wiggling your eyebrows at him. “Soon I’ll have you picking up the trash from the whole building!”

“Not funny.” He said flatly while you snickered to yourself. “I helped because you needed help, and I was usually there anyway going through that dumpster for parts.”

“I know, I’m only kidding. I really do appreciate the help, honestly. You’re super strong!” You praised, smiling when he cleared his throat and looked away. “Okay, here’s some pajama pants. They should fit? Socks, I have to…” You started digging through your dresser, trying to find a pair of your winter socks. “Ah, here we are. Alright, go go! Kill the bar of soap, I have plenty, and the towels are in the skinny cupboard.” You pointed towards your tiny bathroom. “Tell me when you’re getting out, I’ll put the hot water on then for tea.”

“This is too much.” Kane protested, and you wondered for a second whether you were going to have to wrestle him into the shower. “I…I mean, all I did was move a couple of things.” His grip tightened on the bundle of clothes in his arms. “You gave me food already, I shouldn’t even-”

“Oh my God, be noble some other time, okay? Right now, you need to shower.” You interrupted what promised to be a long-winded speech, patting his leg. “You smell like grease and burnt rubber, go.”

You puttered around in the kitchen while he got washed up, putting your clean dishes away and spooning out a generous dollop of peanut butter to enjoy in solitude.

“I’ll start the water for your tea, okay?” You called after the shower turned off.

…

“Alright.”

He almost didn’t answer, too busy staring at himself in the mirror. His freshly-washed hair hung limp around his face, poorly concealing the area where his right eye should be. The LED still made clicking noises whenever he moved it, but he’d gotten used to that. Gotten used to the way it would blur for a minute as he shifted his attention.

Anything was better than how it had been before. The blunt stab of pain when his eye had been violently removed, Vader standing over him triumphantly while he writhed on the ground in agony. Sharp throbbing in the empty socket whenever he moved his left eye. No, it was better this way. He had been broken, burned. It was better with less feeling.

He sighed, running a hand over his hair and pulling it back. The metal of his body shone through the battered skin of his face in numerous places, gleaming a sickly brick red under the harsh light.

This is a bad idea.

There had been a bandanna in the sweatshirt. He clumsily tied it over his eye and then pulled the hood up. It wasn’t nearly as deep as his other hood, making him grimace at how visible his face was. Especially in the bright light of the bathroom.

The sweatshirt was a little too small as well, sleeves riding up on his forearms and exposing more of his scarred hide. She had already seen his hand, though, so he guessed maybe that was okay. Kane took a few deep breaths. Breathing was one of the few things that made him still feel like a human. Whether he actually was one or not was something for late-night pondering.

With a bravery he didn't own, Kane opened the bathroom door and stepped gingerly back into the main area of the apartment.

She was pouring steaming water into a mug on the kitchen counter, making a noise to acknowledge him when he settled carefully into a chair at a kitchen table that rivaled his body for the coveted title of 'most battered object in the room'. She turned around and he was confused at her lack of flinch, her non-hesitation when he reached out with a hand that still didn't work quite right. Her fingers brushed his as she passed him the mug, and he would have sworn in some crazy part of him that she waited a little longer than she needed to before releasing the ceramic.

“Feel better?” She asked, smiling at him.

Something in his chest hitched violently. Kane had to take a minute, gulping some of the tea in a gamble for composure. “I do, thank you.” He said, trying for calm, collected. Fake it 'til you make it.

“If you want, you can wash your clothes in the tub and we can hang them to dry in the bathroom? Or if you're willing to risk my wardrobe for a little longer I usually do laundry on Tuesdays.”

Kane shook his head. “I'm sure some of my things would go to pieces in a regular washing machine.” He admitted. “If I can steal your tub for a while, I'd appreciate it.”

“Do you need gloves? I have some long ones for washing dishes.” She nodded down at his hand and Kane clenched his fist on reflex. “Don't know how damp you can get.”

“I'm watertight. For the most part.” He winced. There was a patch of rust that kept creeping back up his leg, but he wasn't exactly keen on getting sandblasted again. The parts of him that were still human tissue had a bit of a grievance with particulate irritations. “Thank you.”

She ended up falling asleep at the kitchen table while he washed his clothes, her own mug of tea half-finished at her elbow.

Kane stood over her for what felt like ages, his hands tucked into the pockets of his loaned pajama pants. I could snap your neck. He shook his head, irritated with the Underground still winding through his skull.

Kill or be killed. Take or suffer longer.

“It never stops, Kane.” The Deadman had nodded up at the ceiling of the tunnel. Despite addressing him, he all but ignored his monstrous creation screaming in pain on the table. “They do the same thing up top. More subtle, which I think is worse. There's honesty in ugliness. But you would know, wouldn't you?”

Kane flinched at the memory of the electricity coursing through his body, stepping back from her sleeping form. He barely trusted himself without his brother's voice in his head.

…

You didn’t expect him to still be there when you woke up but he was, his massive form curled up in the bathtub. The bathroom was still humid and steamy due to the poor ventilation in your complex, which you would suppose explained his location if he really couldn’t regulate his temperature properly.

You let him sleep, leaving a note on the table with your spare key in case he needed to go somewhere.

When you got to work, Nakamura was all over you like a bad suit. “Well?!” He exploded the second you walked in the door. “What happened? Tell me everything.”

“It’s impolite to gossip.” You sniped back at him, “And don’t forget that you have to present your sketches to Mr. Helmsley by noon!” Shinsuke was part designer, part business owner, all absentminded artist. After he’d cost Strong Style a few negotiations due to forgetting about them, you took it upon yourself to remind him.

Your coworker, Jason Jordan, was the son of an Olympian and suffered from a complex of legendary proportions. He spent most of his shifts stocking the shelves and pointedly ignoring customers, as well as the growing pile of cardboard and miscellaneous trash that he would create in the process of stocking. It was his ritual to leave early and let you clean up the mess. You wondered sometimes why Shinsuke kept him on, but Jason was strong enough to lift the things that needed to be lifted. He just had the attitude of a sulky teen.

“What are you all wound up about, boss?” Jason sighed from his spot sorting small boxes behind the counter.

“This one, coaxing my metal man into her apartment!” Nakamura huffed, “And holding all the details hostage!”

You couldn’t help a laugh at his indignation. “Yours? I didn’t see your name on him, boss.”

“That’s irrelevant.” Shinsuke sputtered.

…

At the end of the day Kane surprised you by showing up to walk you home, wearing his old clothes. “No kids in the stairwell this time, right?” You asked worriedly, sighing in relief when he shook his head. “Okay, good. What did you do today?”

“Slept. Not used to being up during the day.” He mumbled. “Woke up around sundown, saw the trees.” His voice sounded raw with longing. “So green.”

You turned his words over in your mind, his tone tugging at your heartstrings. “You want some supper?” You threaded your arm through the crook of his elbow again. “I know a few places.”

“Can’t go inside restaurants.”

“Takeout it is! How do you feel about noodles?”

“Why are you doing this?” He asked instead. “I’m so confused. Normally people are easy for me to read.”

“I know what it’s like to be in your shoes, man! Sometimes you just need the right person to take a gamble on you.” You thought fondly of Shinsuke curtaining off a corner of the back room as a temporary living space for you when you’d come to answer his job listing. “I’m helping because I want to. I promise there’s no evil, underhanded motives when it comes to me.”

“That’s strange.” Kane said bluntly, making you roll your eyes.

“You’re strange.”

“Yes.” Kane agreed instantly.

You lightly shoved his shoulder. “Stop that, I’m only kidding. I doubt you’re any stranger than the rest of us.”

“I beg to differ.”

Later that evening you marveled at how small he made the couch in your apartment look, his hulking frame dwarfing the furniture while he stubbornly tried to eat his noodles with chopsticks.

“Hey, I can get you a fork if you want?” You offered after you'd watched him struggle for a few minutes. You didn't want to offend him by giving him one right off the bat, but at this rate he might starve.

“No. You can do it. I know I can.” Kane grunted, making a noise of disappointment when the noodles slipped free again.

“Yeah, and I also have years of takeout experience.” You reached out, touching his hand hesitantly and then, emboldened by the fact that he let you do that much, you moved his fingers to grip the chopsticks a little differently. It felt like there was a sticking motion to adjust his digits, as though he had nothing to pad his joints. “Try it now.”

“Alright.” It took a few more attempts, but he finally managed to snag a cluster of noodles and hurriedly shove them into his mouth.

“Yeah!” You cheered, catching the barest glimpse of a smile as he chewed. “Here, have some of mine.” You deftly picked up a tangle of your own noodles and aimed them at the void of his hood. He tugged the hood back a fraction, revealing a square jaw. Faint scars pulled at the skin beneath his stubble. You realized you were staring after a second and you blushed when Kane leaned forward to eat the noodles.

“My turn?” He asked hopefully after he swallowed, chasing after a single water chestnut in the nest of his noodles. “You're taking this thing, I don't know what it is.”

“Try it! They're crunchy.”

“It...tastes like nothing.”

“Yeah, but it's crunchy!” You sang, grinning at him.

“You're so strange.”

…

Strange was apparently your new normal. It didn't take long for you to adjust to your...roommate, though you worried about him whacking his head on the doorjamb with alarming regularity. Sometimes Kane would absently crack his knuckles and the muffled screech of metal on metal would set your teeth on edge. You wanted to ask whether it hurt or not, but you also didn't want to be rude.

He would walk you home from work, showing up promptly at seven thirty to help you deal with the trash before you could clock out. Nakamura usually left well before six, and on the off chance that he was still around when Kane got there, the tall man would briefly humor him before falling stubbornly silent.

“I was regular once.” Kane had said quietly one night. It was raining and as the two of you walked home, you couldn't help but notice the way steam rose off his jacket when the rain hit it. “Regular enough, anyway.”

“What happened?”

“Jealousy. Pride.” His fists had clenched at his sides, joints making an audible click. “Arson.”

You didn't get much more than Shinsuke in that respect, but you knew better than to harass him about it. Obviously it was something that had caused him grief in the past and it was hardly fair of you to expect him to rip himself apart to satisfy your curiosity.

Tonight, though, he was late.

You waited on the steps for almost an hour after you were done with your shift, worriedly checking your watch over and over. You tried to tell yourself that everything was fine. Maybe he overslept. Maybe your neighbor's kids had been left in the stairwell again. You finally got to your feet, straightening out your heavy work overalls and starting off on the long walk.

By the time you reached your complex you were jogging, your worry compounded when you found the door to the outside slightly ajar. Upon opening the inside door, you heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. Akam’s voice rang out from overhead, “The fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

You lunged for the stairs, taking them two at a time. “Akam? Rezar!” You yelled, “What’s going on?” You didn’t get a verbal response, but you heard glass break with a sudden smash! A scuffle had clearly ensued, and you hoped and prayed that Kane wasn’t in the middle of it.

An Acolyte slumped on the landing gave you pause, and when you went to hop over the body the man grabbed your ankle, tripping you and halting your rush up the stairs. You thrashed your leg, trying to get away from the man’s death grip. Acolytes always have knives! This was not how you had planned on dying! You wriggled and squirmed desperately, every panicky motion just seeming to drag you closer to the Acolyte instead of further away.

“Help!” You screamed, trying to grip the floor, the wall, anything! Pain sliced across the back of your calf and you cried out, kicking and flailing as the Acolyte forced you to his chest with the sheer power of his grip. The knife shimmered red in the light, so close to your throat--

Why is it so hot?

The Acolyte burst into flames.

That high-pitched noise rang in your ears. The air sizzled and popped loudly but the fire didn’t touch you, and the Acolyte dissolved into ash in seconds. You shoved yourself away from the pile of dust, your hand over your mouth. Flames curled around you, a barrier, and then they died off. The floor wasn’t even scorched.

Kane stood at the foot of the stairs, his hood thrown back and his hand stretched out towards you. The fact that you were seeing his face for the first time in the unforgiving light of the stairwell wasn’t even a thought that crossed your mind. He looked terrified, scared beyond belief. “Are you alright?” His voice was ragged, like he'd been shouting.

You shook your head silently, holding your leg. Tears streamed down your cheeks and you blindly continued to back away from the remains of the Acolyte until your back hit the wall.

“Jesus Christ.” Kane's own legs seemed to be having trouble as he dropped heavily to his knees beside you, gathering you into his arms. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” He muttered, staggering back to his feet after a second with you in his grip. “Just a cut. I didn’t think I would get to you in time. He was going to slit your throat, oh my God.” You buried your face in his shoulder, hysterical sobs shaking your body.

“Hey, what happened down there?” Rezar hollered from the next floor up. “The rest of ‘em decided the window was the better option.”

…

“She’s hurt.” Kane said thickly, his steps on the stairs slow and careful. “Knife.”

The scene replayed over and over in his mind, her desperately trying to get away and the Acolyte clawing at her, that grin on his face, eyes locked with Kane the whole time. He was too late, too late, he would never get there before the damage was done. He hadn't felt anything this strongly since he'd been brought back online. Emotions were nothing but lines of binary, electricity in his battered brain.

The fire answered Kane's call sluggishly; it had never been as responsive as his half-brother's lightning and he was still almost too late, his panic fanning the flames to the point where the guy just…dissolved.

In his frantic rush he wasn’t sure whether he had burnt her as well. Fear stopped up his throat for a breathless second until the flames burned out. He couldn’t help the way that he froze when he saw her crying, his hand still outstretched and his mind screaming hood face she can see everything!

He arrived at her door, spotting Akam already sweeping up the broken glass from the window. Kane clutched her a little closer to his chest, searching for an acceptable surface to lay her on so he could look at her leg.

“Here man, set her down here.” Rezar patted the clean counter, murmuring something to her. She shook her head, clinging tighter to Kane. “Sweetheart, we need to check that steel bite. Gotta’ let him go so we can fix it.”

Kane was touched by the way Rezar said we. “I’m right here. I won’t leave.” He said quietly, trying to reassure her. She finally loosened her death grip on his neck, wiping her face off with his sweatshirt.

“I wasn’t crying.” Her voice was so small.

“No, obviously not.” Akam agreed, raising an eyebrow. “You’re all puffy in the face because you’re allergic to knife wounds.”

“Put me down, I have to go kick his ass.”

“You’re staying on the counter. I need to make sure you’re alright.” Kane rasped. “Sit.” She obliged silently, letting him pull up the cuff of her work overalls until he could clearly see the damage that had been done. He thanked God that it looked worse than it was.

“Washcloth?” Rezar asked quietly.

“Yeah. You’re going to be alright. Just sit still.” Kane pulled a chair over from the table, settling her leg into his hands. “Eyes on me, don’t look at it.” He ordered, seeing her steal glances at the wound. “Eyes on me.”

Her eyes raised, locking with his and then widening. She had obviously been too distraught to notice his lack of hood out in the stairway. Kane shifted nervously, waiting for her to start screaming. “You were burned?” She asked, leaning in a little closer.

Kane blinked. “Uh.”

“Your face…and that light is actually your eye?”

“It’s a decent substitute. You’re um, taking this pretty well.” Kane said, utterly bewildered. Granted, Akam and Rezar hadn’t exactly wasted time gawking at him when they opened their apartment door and saw him taking on four Acolytes alone. But he had expected her to recoil. Freak out.

“That's incredible. I...I wasn't sure, never really could see.” Her hand reached to touch him, then at the last second she pulled back. Disappointment settled like a rock in his stomach. Why he would be disappointed about her not touching him was anyone's guess. “Sorry, I know you're not...something to be examined.” She said awkwardly. “Didn't mean to be rude.”

“It's alright.”

She at least kept still while he cleaned her cut and then carefully bandaged the area. It wasn't deep enough to need stitches, but it was enough to make him promise himself that he would watch it like a hawk so it didn't get infected. Rezar and Akam offered to stay overnight and she waved off their worry. A swell of pride warmed Kane from the inside when she gestured up at him and said she would be fine.

He settled back into a chair later on in the evening, a blanket wrapped securely around his shoulders as he prepared for a sleepless night of keeping watch in front of the door. He had been having more and more trouble sleeping during the day as of late, his body finally seeming to understand that most normal people apparently slept while he was at his most active.

“Kane?” She called from her bedroom, her voice soft.

He got to his feet and moved to go lean against the doorframe where she could see him. “Yes?”

“Can you...can you sleep in here tonight?”

“I wasn't planning on sleeping.” Kane replied with a shrug, yawning a second later.

His breath caught in his throat when she fumbled with the blankets nervously. “At least hold me for a little bit, then?” She asked all in a rush. “I'm still...” She made a noise. “Wound up inside.”

“I don't know if I...my, uh, sometimes my hand locks up.” Kane admitted, incredibly embarrassed. “I'll keep my hands to myself?”

“That's fine. M' sorry.”

“It's alright.” She tucked herself into his side when he laid down stiffly, laying her head on his chest. After a second of hesitation, Kane wrapped his arm around her and carefully rested his fist on her shoulder. “Don't want to pinch you, it closes like a bear trap.”

“Thank you.” She murmured, her nose burrowed into the space just beneath his ear.

Kane swallowed hard, listening to her breathing even out as the minutes ticked by. He really ought to leave the bed. He needed to stand watch. Five more minutes, he promised himself. He would get up in five minutes...

She was curled up with her back to his chest, wriggling her body enticingly. Her voice, husky with sleep, caressed his senses while she asked him to do the unthinkable, rousing parts of him that he'd thought had been dead for good. Her backside pressed to his cock and Kane couldn't help his groan.

Her breasts fit perfectly in his hands. He relished the soft moan she gave him, her fingers dragging hungrily at his hair. “Fuck me.” She demanded again...

…

Kane rolled his hips against your ass and you weren't able to resist pushing back instinctively as you woke up, getting a sleepy groan in reply that made your stomach drop out. One large hand closed down on your hip, his thumb resting on the waistband of your pajama shorts. “Kane...” You murmured, laying your hand on top of his own. He jerked awake, his whole body going rigid. “You okay?”

“Oh.” He tried to let you go, but you held onto his hand. “Fell asleep, wasn't going to.”

“It's okay.” You snuggled against him, the hard line of his cock slotting into the small of your back. “Is this okay?” You weren't sure what level of touch he was actually comfortable with, after all, your limits were different from his.

“Um.” Kane relaxed slightly behind you, exhaling hard. “How's your leg?” The bandage was catching on his shin, you could feel it every time he moved.

“Put your leg between mine, maybe?” You suggested, suddenly very awake when his comparatively huge thigh easily parted your legs. Oh hi. “That's better.” You squeaked, hoping that he hadn't felt the way your hips twitched down.

“You're warm.” He sounded worried.

“Yeah, I get pretty hot when I sleep.”

“I get colder if I'm not moving.” He murmured. You could have sworn his hold on you tightened. “I dream sometimes. Don't think I'm supposed to.”

“What do you dream about?”

“Where I've been. My brother.” Kane shrugged. “Bits and pieces. Thought he took most of that out of me when he did this.” In the stillness of the room, you could actually hear the click of bearings in his wrist when he moved his fingers. “Wasn't always like this.”

“Kane, that thing earlier...with the fire. Was that actually you? Was it real? Or am I going crazy?” You asked hesitantly.

“I have limited...control? I guess you could call it that?” Kane rested his forehead on your shoulder. “It's been ages since I did it. Was almost too late.”

“Why didn't I get burned?”

“I told you. Control.”

“It was so hot, though. Like standing next to a radiator.” You were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that flames molten enough to burn a man to ash had just felt like the average too-close space heater to you.

“Yes. It was real fire.” Kane said slowly, like he was talking to a child. “Fire is hot.”

“You ass, you know what I mean.”

“I haven't done much practicing. It only got out of hand once. Brother said no more.” He said, his fingers abruptly clamping down on your hip like a vise. “Shit, sorry, sorry, hang on.” He grunted, “Don't move, I don't want to hurt you. I'll get it off.” He struggled for a second, reaching underneath you so he could pry at his clenched fingers. “Damn it, let go.” You accidentally whimpered and Kane immediately stopped. “Are you alright? I can tear the ligaments in my wrist if-”

“No no I'm okay, sorry. I like. Um. I like this.” You confessed, covering your face. “I like being held tight.”

“I'm not holding you, I'm crushing you.” Kane protested, still battling with his locked hand. His motions worked your body down on his thigh and you gasped. “I'm so sorry, just give me a second.” He apologized.

“Kane wait-” You panted, squirming desperately. His grip was so tight, his thigh warm and solid beneath you. His knee angled up, rubbing his leg against your pubic mound. “Oh please, please please-” You rambled softly, barely aware that the words were coming out of your mouth. If he didn't stop--

“You like this?” Kane breathed in your ear, sounding confused as he finally seemed to realize what was happening to you. “I don't understand.”

“Feels good.” You replied breathlessly.

“That's my leg.” He pointed out, shifting his weight so his thigh pressed up against you harder. Your mouth opened in a soundless cry and you felt his muscles tighten. “I don't understand. You're not supposed to be like this. You're not even supposed to let me touch you.” Kane seemed to have forgotten about his problematic hand. “Everyone else treats me the way they're supposed to but you just...I don't understand.” His tone dipped to a lower register. “How...how good does it feel?”

“Amazing.” You sighed, and his free hand cupped your neck.

“You like this?” He asked again, groaning when you nodded.

You were all but riding his thigh at this point, hips rocking back and forth to create the friction you needed so dearly. Without any warning his locked hand suddenly released and flew back, narrowly missing your shoulder and meeting his face with a solid clang! You jolted, immediately stopping and fumbling to roll over. “Oh my God, are you okay?!” You asked frantically, finally managing to get onto your stomach so you could see him.

“Ow.” Kane growled, holding his chin. “What are the odds?” You pressed a kiss to his hand, then nudged it out of the way and kissed the abraded skin. He was staring at your hip, and you risked a look down. Fingerprints were bruised into the stripe of skin not covered by your shorts. “Fuck.”

“Hey, it's okay.” You tried to reassure him, a hot tremor of need rolling over you at the sight of the purple marks.

“I hurt you.” He said bleakly.

“No.”

“What the hell do you mean, 'no'? Are you blind?” He asked, his thumb timidly grazing one of the bruises. “I could have broken you. I'm so stupid.”

You shook your head, cupping his face. “I like the marks.” You admitted shyly. “I like being held tight and close, like I'm something important.” Kane made a noise of disbelief in his throat. “I like you.”

“God, there's no way.”

“It's true!” You insisted, bumping your forehead against his. “I like you holding me tight. I trust you. You must like me too, unless you cuddle anyone in bed.”

“I don't let just any pretty girl grind on my thigh, if that's what you're saying.”

“I'm saying that whatever you think, you're wrong. I'm not scared of you.”

“You don't know what I can do to people.” Kane grabbed your chin clumsily and kissed you hard. “You don't know what you're getting into.” He groaned, sounding like he was trying to convince himself.

“I don't believe you.” You murmured. “I think you've done this before and you're scared of being hurt again.” You stretched out lazily beside him, wincing when your leg caught on the blankets. “So you're trying to be all macho about it.”

...

Kane opened his mouth, and then closed it after a second. “Look.” He said finally. “You're...I could hurt you. I could legitimately hurt you. I don't mean bruises.” He opened and closed his hand, flexing his stiff fingers. “If I shut down on your wrist...your neck.”

“I can be careful if you are.” She was dangerous. Brave. Not giving him up without a fight. No one had ever fought for him. His eyes darted to the bandage wrapped securely around her calf and he rolled over on top of her, propping himself up on his arms.

“It's just going to get worse. They'll keep coming.” She had to know that this was a terrible idea. An awful mistake.

“I guess you'd better teach me how to defend myself better then, huh?” She smiled. “Seeing as I'm planning on sticking around for a while.”

“I can do that.” Kane kissed her slowly this time, feeling the quiver of breath in her chest. “You really want me?”

“Yes.”

A deal with a demon. Kane shook his head, pressing his mouth to her jaw, her throat. “I'll keep you safe.”

“And I'll keep you safe.”

“When I saw you there, heard you screaming for help, I thought that...look, electrical impulses are difficult to sort out. I usually don't feel. It's been a very long time.” Kane tried to explain without having to go into the gory details. “I was scared.” He peeled her shorts off her body, taking care around the bandage. She wasn't wearing any panties, a detail that made his head spin. His long hair fell in his face, dragging over her bare stomach when he shoved her shirt up out of the way. “I thought I was going to watch you die. The only person in the world who ever showed me kindness for the sake of it and I thought...”

Her fingers tugged his sweatpants down, grazing over the skin of his thighs. Kane huffed out a breath, thrusting his cock up into her waiting palm. “You kept me safe.” She murmured, her body hot beneath his hands.

“You made me remember what feeling was.” Kane replied, his voice cracking when she teased the head of his cock. “I'll be faster next time.”

…

You brushed his cock back and forth over your pussy lips, listening to how his breathing hitched every time you moved. “You really want me?” You asked, echoing his earlier words.

“More than I've wanted anything in my whole life.” He answered desperately, precome dribbling onto your fingers. “I know I don't deserve you. Doesn't stop me from wanting.” You guided his cock to prod your entrance, loving the way he froze. “Oh God, fuck, you're so warm.” Kane hung his head, slowly penetrating you. “Fuck-”

“You have me. So fuck me like you mean it.” You whispered in his ear, making him clench his jaw and grunt in acknowledgment.

His fingers dug into the sheets at your shoulders. “You're ahead of me in the game, you know.” He growled. “I think you were about to come earlier, weren't you? Before I tried to bust my own mouth.”

“I was.” You bit your lip and he ducked his head to tug at your lip with his teeth, pinning your hips to the bed with his own. His cock throbbed inside you, fucking you open until every thrust ached sweetly in the pit of your belly.

You slipped a hand down between your bodies, his pace jerking to a stop when he felt your fingers. “Too much?” He rasped, eyes trained on your face.

“More.” You sighed, leaning up to kiss him again.

Kane buried his face in your neck, hips resuming their rough motion while you rubbed your clit. “This better than riding my thigh?” He chuckled breathlessly. “Didn't know that was a thing.”

“Only works on someone like you.” You panted. “Everyone else is a lost cause.” Your eyes half-lidded as you found the right spot, your fingers working in tandem with Kane's efforts to get you to come. His hand tapped the bruises on your hip, sending shudders of pleasure through your body before he pressed down harder, making you see stars.

“Come for me.” Kane closed his eyes as you writhed and bucked underneath him, crying out against his shoulder. “Yes, fuck, yes, fuck.” He pulled away, moaning while he stroked himself to completion on your stomach. “Yes.” He gasped, looking up and seeing you watching him, your chest still heaving for breath. “God, you are just...” He shook his head. “Wow.”

“Yeah? I think that's a resounding endorsement.” You smiled, tugging him down for another kiss. “I was thinking, tomorrow...we should take a field trip.”

“Oh? To where?” Kane asked curiously, propping himself up on his elbow beside you.

“There's a bus line that goes to a shopping plaza outside the city, but from there...” You trailed off, grinning when his eyes widened in realization.

He silently wrapped you up in a tight embrace, cupping the back of your head and cradling you close.

“I figured that might pique your interest.”

High Rise

#demon kane #kane #kane/reader #demon kane/reader #wrestle!AU: Suplex City #i make no apologies for this #actual Big Red Machine!Kane #the devil's favorite demon #wwe #wrestling #thirst party saturday #I am all in my feels #feels festival #I miss Big Red Machine Kane

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tommy-shepherd · 6 years

Text

Kith and Kin

Read on ao3

Swan/Skov

Chap. 1/?

Skov doesn't have a good relationship with his family, so Swan invites him over to meet his instead.

“Fucking cold in here. Piece of shit weather.” Skov mumbles, haphazardly pulling his favorite purple hoodie over his head from where he had retrieved it from its spot on the floor. There’s a draft coming in through the cracked window in the bedroom, but his stupid boyfriend runs hot and he knows better than to close it fully or he’ll have to hear Swan complain about it literally forever. Tugging the sweatshirt down over his hips with a final shake of his head, Skov stomps out of the bedroom and throws himself onto the couch. When he does, Swan looks over with a knowing grin. Skov flips him off.

“Fuck you.”

“I didn’t say anything.” And the asshole has the gall to laugh, Skov kicks him in the thigh, but regrettably it’s not hard enough to bruise.

“You didn’t have to. I know what you’re thinking.” Swan laughs again.

“We’ve been together too long.” He pauses, running a hand back through his hair before he motions for Skov to move closer to him and then pats his lap. “C’mere.” The smaller boy quirks a questioning brow but he shifts, lifting himself off the couch and rotating until he’s seated on his boyfriend’s lap, straddling his thighs. There’s a long moment of silence where neither boy says anything, Swan just staring at the smaller with a dopey smile on his face. Skov scowls.

“Yes?” Another beat of silence. Swan shakes his head fractionally.

“I love you.” And when he speaks, Swan’s voice is calm and steady and sure. His fingers tangle in the soft curls of white hair that tickle the nape of Skov’s neck and he tilts the boy’s face up gently to meet his gaze. Skov wonders how such large, strong hands can be so very capable of such tenderness.

Still, with furrowed brows, Skov smiles in return, soft and certain though he resists the urge to roll his eyes and break the moment of vulnerability between them. They deserve the tranquil bliss of here and now, sitting together in near silence with nothing but their adoration for each other.

“I love you, too,” His voice is nearly a whisper, but Skov is proud of himself for leaving off his usual bite. He grins, holding back the laughter that threatens to bubble out of him at any moment with the confession. There’s no joke here, but he doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt so completely good and it’s overwhelming. Swan grins back at him, thumb brushing across the small star tattooed on his boyfriend’s cheek, pressing against it like it was his own personal brand on the boy.

After that, they both lean in, unconsciously, naturally, whatever it may be, it’s a chemistry they’re used to, one that comes without thought or effort. Their kiss is unusually sweet, simple, chaste, as far as they’re concerned. It’s also short lived. The next time their lips meet it’s with renewed fire, a bruising force, a bite. Skov’s arms wrap around his boyfriend’s broad back and in return he’s tugged closer by the hands now cupping his face. He lets out a pleased hum in reward. They press themselves as close together as possible, lips, chests, hips, trying to become one shared existence. Swan never gets bored of the feeling, he shifts, one arm around his small boyfriend's waist as he flips them, leans over, caging his boyfriend in and pressing him into the plush cushions. Skov rolls his hips and moans. Swan deepens the kiss as the other boy parts his lips with the sound. It's perfect. It’s the feeling of running his tongue along the cool metal balls of Skov’s tongue piercings, of feeling them clack against the back of his teeth, and the feeling that action sends through his entire body. Both boys pull away to breathe.

"Fuck," Skov laughs. "Love makes you so horny." It's a tease, but as usual, Swan only smiles, his thumbs going back to stroking Skov's cheeks and the look in his eyes is soft enough to make the smaller boy squirm underneath him.

"You make me horny," Swan counters without heat. "I just happen to love you so fucking much." Skov bites his lip, watching his boyfriend watch him.

"You wanna make love to me, Alex?" The question is accompanied by a shit eating grin. Make love, a cheesy phrase neither boy employs when describing sex, even when it’s with each other. A beat. Then both boys burst out laughing.

When they have control of their senses again, Swan leans down, another soft kiss and he mumbles yet another confession against Skov's lips.

"Yeah. I really do."

The next morning, Swan wakes up in bed alone. When he first opens his eyes, stretching his long limbs out, his hand lands on empty mattress rather than the warm body of his boyfriend. His brows pull together and he closes his eyes again, yawning as he scratches the bare skin of his belly, fingers brushing the coarse hair trailing under the waistband of his pajama bottoms. He can hear the muffled sound of his boyfriend’s voice from the other side of their bedroom door and he listens to the sharp cadence of it for a few more minutes as he toes the line between wake and sleep. When he opens his eyes again, the LCD display of his clock reads 8:37 AM in bright green. Just the fact that the other is awake is a warning sign itself, but Skov is loud in the other room again, tone strained though Swan isn’t able to decipher his words. With a sigh, Swan hauls himself out of bed, eyelids still heavy and feet dragging on the carpet.

Making his way out of the room and past the kitchen, Swan finds Skov curled up on the couch. He’s wearing sweat shorts and one of Swan’s old camp t shirts and a scowl that could probably scare off Medusa herself. He’s on the phone though, so Swan stays silent, sitting on the couch beside his boyfriend as he tries to rub the remnants of sleep from his eyes. Skov is quiet again, back to listening to the voice on the other end of the line but he’s clearly itching to say something, sharp words always ready on his tongue. Swan reaches out and takes one of his boyfriend’s hands, thumb brushing over scarred knuckles in slow circles. Skov doesn’t resist, but he doesn’t return the affection either.

“Mom,” He says instead, voice tight, though it’s clear, to Swan at least, that he’s trying to hide how irritated he is. His voice has taken on a tone of placid obedience reserved only for speaking to his parents but even that can’t completely dull the rebellious edge of the boy. ‘They don’t deserve him.’ Swan thinks, closing his eyes to rest his head back against the couch, but he knows that’s not his place to say. “I’m sorry. I did send flowers… Well, I thought you’d be at the resort in Kuala Lampur. …No, I didn’t ask. I’m sorry.”

There’s another pause and Skov squeezes his boyfriend’s hand hard enough that Swan can feel his own knuckles scrape together under his skin. The larger boy looks up and brings his boyfriend’s hand to his mouth, delivering open mouthed kisses to the swell of his knuckles instead. Skov gives him a withering look.

“I know. I know. Mom.” And his attention is back on the call in an instant. She must be reprimanding him now, because that tone of his slipped out and Mrs. Skov won’t tolerate that kind of disrespect from her son. Swan has seen that lecture in person, and it’s not a pretty one.

Skov’s brows furrow, creasing his smooth, tan skin. Swan thinks he hears a biting tone say Nikolai from the other end of the line, and the next time Skov speaks, his voice is a soft, almost whisper.

“I’m sorry. I’ll call more often. Yes. Okay. I will. Happy Mother’s Day. …Paalam.” He hangs up, hand falling to his side, but Swan stays silent, waiting to see where Skov stands emotionally. He waits for an explosion that doesn’t come. Skov just sits there, phone clenched tightly in his hand and Swan grows more concerned. His boyfriend is not quiet by nature, and while he doesn’t think always being angry is healthy, in this instance, he would have both expected, and welcomed it. The Skovs were some of the most frustrating parents Swan had ever encountered. And he went to a private boarding school full of rich boys with mommy and daddy issues.

“Elliot?” He tries after a few prolonged moments of silence. “You good?” It’s not the right thing to ask, he knows, and it’s not what he wanted to ask, but it comes out anyway.

Skov doesn't answer, though Swan watches the muscles in his neck twitch, his jaw clenches and he grinds his teeth angrily. It would be easier, Swan thinks, if Skov hated his parents. But for reasons many of them can’t understand, a parent’s lack of love does not equal the same in the child. Skov wants his parents’ affection, hell, he just wants their attention and even if maybe, they'll never really love him, never really care about him, Skov will struggle through his interactions with them and hurt himself over and over. Swan doesn’t get it.

His dad is absent at best and he doesn’t really lose much sleep over it. His mom is enough for him. Then again, he thinks, at least he has his mom. Neither of his boyfriend's parents make an effort to pretend to care, and when they do, it’s always for selfish occasions. Fundraisers, press dates, mother's day. If Nikolai Elliot Skov can't contribute to the family, then it's easier for them to ignore his existence until an occasion he’s needed arises again. He’s never really needed though, he just helps make a better impression, when they pretend to be a happy family. Swan hates Skov's parents with every fiber of his being.

"Elliot. Talk to me, babe." Skov throws his phone against the far wall in lieu of a reply. The case stops it from breaking (they’ve learned this is a must with all their phones) but it leaves a nasty mark on the plaster. Swan knows his boyfriend. The explosion was delayed, but there it was nonetheless.

"I'm fine," Is what the smaller boy manages to grind out after the momentary outburst. "It's just the same shit." That obedient tone is gone, but there is less anger than expected, as if he’s reigned himself in. Maybe that’s what the prolonged silence was; Skov slipping from one persona to the next. Obedient to rebellious to himself. Swan never takes Skov’s attitude seriously though, or at least, he never takes it to heart.

"Okay. …Okay. So you don’t wanna talk about it."

"No. I don’t." Swan sighs.

"Alright well. You're still coming with me to mom's right? The whole family is gonna be there, you know. Kinda a big deal…." He tries for a grin, it's half-hearted, but Skov barely glances at him to notice.

"I don’t really want-"

"Please, babe? Mom was really looking forward to seeing you. It would make her day." It’s an unfair card to play. None of them can say no to Ms. Swan— Jenni as she insisted they call her— and Skov is no exception. He loves Swan's mom. The smaller boy scowls.

"Fine. But I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for Jenni. Because it’s Mother's Day." This time when Swan grins, it's sincere.

"Of course. And she'll thank you on both our behalves." Skov snorts at that and Swan is just glad to get some sort of positive reaction out of him. The smaller boy peals himself off the couch in a fluid motion but when he stands, it’s not to go retrieve his phone. Swan figures it'll stay where it is for the rest of the day, or at least until they leave.

"I need to shower. Is this a formal thing?" The way he says formal is almost a sneer and Swan smiles, standing as well. His boyfriend is so cute.

"Nah. Semi-formal maybe? I dunno. No running pants. But jeans are fine."

“My whole wardrobe is running pants.” He starts as he walks to the bathroom. “Jenni won’t mind.” Swan can’t help but roll his eyes, but the affection in his smile gives him away.

“Elliot. Real pants. For once.” Feigning a put upon sigh, Skov walks into the bathroom and begins to strip off his pajamas.

“Alex. Fuck off.” He turns on the shower, but even with his face mostly turned away from his boyfriend, Swan can see the smile tugging at his lips. “If you wanted a boyfriend who wore real pants, you should have dated someone else.”

Swan laughs from his spot in the open door way, watching the muscles of the smaller boy’s back flex and shift under tan skin. Skov is beautiful and Swan’s laugh is a bright, open sound. It’s a sound that Skov always finds comfort in even at his worst moments, something that shatters the walls he’s built and pulses in his veins in a way that even the music he creates can’t compare to. Swan is a grounding force, with the patience for Skov’s loud heart and his tenacity. Not many people can say that, and both are impressive skills to have. Skov thinks Swan might be too good for him sometimes, but he will take advantage of his boyfriend’s ignorance for as long as he can. In the meantime, he gets in the shower, hoping the hot water will melt away the excess of emotions he’s had to put up with today.

Its 9:13 AM when Skov finishes washing away his heart and begins to raid his own dressers for something appropriate to wear to the Swan family gathering. Alex, the Swan taking him to the gathering, is taking his own turn in the shower and is missing the moment’s dilemma, something the shorter boy is immensely grateful for at the moment. When he had said that all he owned was jogging pants, it hadn’t necessarily been a lie. Though he does own other types of clothes, none of them are exactly what he would consider a ‘nice family’ to find presentable for an event like this. He has his formal clothes of course, but Skov only wears button ups for his parents, whether to see them, or as a duty to them, and not even his desire to impress the women that make up the Swan family will change that.

With a grumble, Skov tosses another pair of track pants over his shoulder. He debates the merits of drop crotch joggers for a conflicted moment before tossing those aside too. Swan had said jeans. Skov has a few pairs, but they’ve all got rips and tears and holes, most of them intentional.

“Uggghhhhhh.” Letting out a loud groan, Skov tugs at his own hair, shoves everything back in the drawer and tugs at the next one over. He pulls out a pair of washed out, blue jeans, skinny legged and soft. The only tears are at the knees with a third across his right thigh and the boy figures that’s probably going to be as good as it gets. After that, it’s not too hard. He pulls on a large white tee, one of Swan’s, a marbled gray sweatshirt and his army print jean jacket. He feels comfortably like himself, but he also feels like he might present as a reasonably decent human being. With a self-approving nod, Skov steps into his gray high top Adidas and waits for Swan to finish in the shower.

#the raven cycle #the dream pack #skov #swan #joseph kavinsky #dream pack #trc #wow two fics in one day #my fic #swanskov #skovswan #idk #lol

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jesbakescookies · 7 years

Text

Too Hot To Handle: Chapter Seven

So I kinda wrote a different kind of fanfiction. It’s nothing as in depth as my other fics so I am going to post it here. ENJOY!!

***Actor, Real Person Fanfiction, Walking Dead RPF***

Featuring: Jeffrey Dean Morgan X Original Female Character, Norman Reedus and others.. (FYI this is total fiction, as in I know nothing about JDMs life or that of his real SO and son etc. Because of this, for this work of fiction, they don’t exist. Jeffrey’s been a typical actor playboy dating fellow stars etc. This is written for sick daydreaming pleasure.)

Aria St. James is a busy woman with a thriving restaurant. She thought she had everything she needed until a few famous faces visit her dining room. A tall, dark and handsome actor decides Aria’s just what he’s been looking for.

Rating: Mature

Aria pulled off her chef coat and dug through the closet in her office for a change of clothes. Her shirt was sweaty and she felt overall disgusting from being behind a stove all day. Jeffrey was going to be there any moment and she would rather wear a potato sack than the t-shirt sticking to her back.

"Ah hah!" She exclaimed finding a fairly unwrinkled shirt with her restaurant’s logo on it. Yanking off her shirt, she washed up quickly in the staff bathroom and changed into the fresh tee. She couldn't do anything about her black chef pants, the splash of something on her thigh making her grimace.

"All well." She muttered, heading into the kitchen to whip them up some leftovers from the service. Spooning the last of the carrot soup into a shallow bowl, topping it off with smoked duck and chopped herbs, Aria heard the knock on the front door. Smiling widely, she set the dish down on the counter and headed out to let Jeffrey in.

He stood with his hands in his pockets, a black hoodie over an old misfits t-shirt. Aria smirked at the beanie he wore and decided Jeffrey out of leather was just as fucking handsome.

"Hey there beautiful." He rasped before kissing temple and pulling her into a body warming hug. Aria took in a deep breath as he rocked them back and forth while nuzzling it her hair.

"Mmm. You're an excellent hugger." She commented, as they pulled apart, the compliment making Jeffrey grin smugly.

"Thanks darlin'."

Rolling her eyes playfully, she motioned to the kitchen. "Hungry?"

"Always."

Taking the spread of different dishes to the comfiest of booths, Aria grabbed a bottle of wine from the service counter. Jeffrey took it from her and poured them both a glass.

"Everything looks amazing sweetheart." He leaned towards her, kissing her cheek. "Tell me about 'em."

Aria explained each dish while they ate, Jeffrey moaning through bites making her laugh.

"You're a fucking goofball." She chuckled at his over the top compliments.

"What?" He asked with raised eyebrows and a dimpled grin. "Just telling you how it is sweetpea."

Blushing at his pet name, Aria replied, "I'm happy you're enjoying everything."

"So this is all on the new menu?"

"Yep." She nodded, sinking into the booth with a pleased smile. "I think this is my best spring."

"I can only compare it to other places fares and you my dear are heads above the rest." He drawled with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he teased, "Despite how petite you may be."

She couldn't even be bitter about the quip when he wrinkled his nose and grinned his bright smile at her. ‘Handsome fucker.’ She thought wryly.

"You're the worst." She scoffed, suppressing a grin as she glared mockingly. Jeffrey bellowed, his head thrown back as he replied. "Oh darlin', shit you're a riot."

Their laughter died down and they found themselves staring silently at each other. Aria felt a flush bloom across her chest and up her neck, her cheeks turning rosy under his hooded stare. He was eating her whole with those bedroom eyes and she was enjoying every second of it.

"You are so goddam beautiful. You know that?" He stated, his voice low and as rough as asphalt. A cadence only developed by a bad habit of cigarettes and stiff drinks. She adored it and wanted it rasped into her ear.

Smirking, Aria sipped her wine and cocked her eyebrow. "I think you've mentioned it before.”

Chuckling lowly, Jeffrey drummed his fingers on the back of the booth in thought, his tongue darting across his bottom lip. As he continued to look her over, he cocked his head to the side and rasped, "I wanna know more about you."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Anything... Everything. Where’re you from?”

"Umm. Well, I was born in Nevada outside of Vegas. I hated it. It always felt dead to me, everything being brown and covered in dirt and sand. We were poor, my dad was a janitor at the grade school and my mom fed me canned crap and fast food." Her nose was wrinkled is disgust. "I was starved for something but I didn't know what."

"That's how you got interested in cooking?"

"Sorta yeah. I decided at sixteen I was done with high school so I took the GED and took off. My parents weren't too concerned with me so I travelled. I wanted to go somewhere that had everything I could ever want, so I took a greyhound to New York. The melting pot or so I read about. And of course I met a guy, fell in love and we found ourselves on a plane to Amsterdam where he promptly dumped me.”

“What an asshole.” Jeffrey scoffed, with his long arm on the back of the booth he leaned closer as she spoke. His fingers played with a lock of her hair, twirling it between two. Swallowing thickly, she fought the urge to turn her head and kiss the tan skin below his watch. Aria wanted to lick a path up the side of his long neck and bite his jaw bone while fisting his hair. She could almost taste his salty skin on her tongue.

Clearing her throat she continued, “Total douchbag. Anyways, I was eighteen and stranded in a foreign country by myself. I just became this vagabond working in different restaurants under the table to travel and feed myself. I figured out real soon that I had a passion for food so I tried to learn everything I could about running a kitchen."

Jeffrey grinned at the knowledge, his eyes bright. "I never would've fucking pictured you traveling like that."

"Why?"

"Because you're a planner."

Rolling her eyes she muttered, "I was young, dumb and out of choices."

"Tell me more." He replied, biting his lip in anticipation. "Where'd you go? What’d you learn?"

"I learned how to get pissed in England.” She spoke with a laugh as Jeffrey joined her. “In Paris an old baker named Louis taught me how to make a proper beignet and the best loaf of crusty sourdough you'll ever taste. I bicycled through Italy and tasted every kind of pasta and wine ever created. About five years passed with me never settling down until I ended up on a flight back to New York. I wanted to be back in the states."

Sipping his wine, Jeffrey asked, "Homesick?"

"Maybe in a way. I mean I’d been to a lot of places but I wanted to be back in America. I worked in New York under different head chefs. Many different kinds of restaurants from highscale French to mom and pop pizzerias. I paid my dues with literal blood, sweat and tears." Snorting she offered, "if you think I'm tough on Javier you should've seen some of the shit I put up with. All five foot two of me."

"Don't forget the half." He rasped with a grin, his eyes twinkling.

"And a half." She repeated with a smirk. "These macho assholes tried to stomp all over me. Like making the new girl break was sport or something. I had one boss make me work all night cleaning all seven ovens with a toothbrush and then was made to work on the line at open."

"Jesus." Jeffrey scoffed, "what a dickhole."

"Yeah that wasn't fun." She muttered, finishing off her glass of red wine before Jeffrey refilled it with a grin.

"You getting me drunk?" She murmured, her eyes twinkling in humor.

"Just keeping your tongue wet darlin'." He drawled, a smile tugging on the corner of his lip.

"Tell me all about you.”

"Don't say you haven't googled me."

"I haven't." She confessed with a shrug, "I figured if you want me to know, you'll tell me."

Jeffrey's mouth parted and he stared at her for a long moment before he shook his head in disbelief. "You are one of a fucking kind doll."

"I'm not saying I don't know stuff, I mean fucking Javier and Cheryl are like walking tabloids. They tried to give me the low down. I stopped them but some things made it to my ears."

"Like what?"

"That you're quite a ladies man." She offered with a smile, her eyebrow cocked high.

Scoffing, he rolled his eyes but Aria could see his ears turning pink. "No more than the next man."

Cutting him a break, Aria replied, "Like I said. I mostly didn't listen and what I heard, I took with a grain of salt. I'm an open person, I don't really hide who I am or what I've done. I like to keep company with like minded people. I'm just hoping you'll be one of them."

Jeffrey smiled easily at her, his expression genuinely pleased. "I would be the happiest fuck alive to keep company with you sweetheart."

He tried to keep his hands and mouth away from her but it was impossible when she smiled at him with those pouty fucking lips. Jeffrey couldn’t stop himself from pulling her into his lap, her legs straddling his hips as they made out desperately.

"Fuck doll." He huffed, when she pulled away to kiss his neck, his hands tightening on her hips as she rolled them against his pocket rocket. "Gonna make me blow if you keep grinding my dick like that."

"Maybe I wanna make you blow." She breathed into his ear before sucking his lobe into her hot mouth, her hands buried in his hair.

"Mother of fuck." He groaned, thrusting off the seat into her spread thighs. "Darlin, I'm gonna tear your clothes off if we keep up at this rate."

"If we count our Skype calls as one date, we can call this our third.” She murmured, her lips quirked to the side as the words sunk into Jeffrey’s lust addled brain. Smiling slowly, his hands slid up and down her thighs and he drawled, “You wearin’ you’re superhero costume under here.”

Aria laughed, her head thrown back and she offered, “Truthfully, at the moment I am not.”

“Well that’s un-fucking-acceptable.” He grunted, his face trying to pull of disappointment but failing miserably. How could he be disappointed when he had a stunner in his lap?

Snorting, Aria leaned forward and kissed him slow and deep, her tongue stroking and curling with his. Whispering against his lips, Aria confessed, “There’s no costume but I am naked underneath if that makes up for it.”

Jeffrey couldn’t stop from grabbing her ass and rutting up into her core, the man desperate to bury himself deep inside her fluttering walls.

“I swear to Christ.” He rasped, nuzzling into her neck and behind her ear. “You get me hotter than fuck.”

“I think we should move this party somewhere else.” She murmured, peering down at him as his hands gripped her narrow waist.

“Oh yeah? Where too?” Jeffrey asked hoarsely, his eyes trailing over her swollen lips and mussed hair.

“My place’s very close.” Aria replied, her lips pulling into a crooked smile.

“Fuck yeah it is.” He grunted, motioning to the table of dishes. “We gotta clean up first.”

“Fuck it. I’ll do it in the morning. I gotta grab my bag.” She replied, sliding from his lap while tugging on his hand.

“You in a hurry babydoll?” he asked with a chuckle, his long legs unfolding from the booth. Aria smirked back at him while pulling him to the back of the restaurant to grab her things. “You want to take a leisurely stroll or do you wanna go to my place and fuck?”

Jeffrey wasn’t sure if his eyes could get any wider as the words spilled from her pretty fucking mouth. “You keep talking like that and we won’t make it to the fucking bike, let alone your bed.”

“Who said anything about needing a bed?”

Find Chapter Eight here:

http://jesbakescookies.tumblr.com/post/162290342061/too-hot-to-handle-chapter-eight

I started posting this fic over on AO3 also. I will probably post in both places since I’m still figuring out AO3 formatting etc.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for updates. I’ll try my best to remember!

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